by Eliza Green
Laura paused. ‘The Elite?’ She shook her head. ‘Margaux is only comfortable breathing the surface air now. She needs the higher levels of oxygen.’
‘It’s just a thought.’
One that he’d wondered about for a while now. Was this the nagging feeling that had kept him awake at night? That bought the Elite a few more months of life?
‘But the Elite are dead now,’ said Laura.
‘No, they’re not.’
Her eyes grew large. ‘What?’
‘They’re holed up in the basement of the military hospital, along with the Conditioned playing hosts to their consciousnesses.’
‘For what purpose?’
Her doubt irritated Bill.
‘For this one, apparently.’ He pushed his irritation down. ‘Something about this attack hasn’t sat right with me since it happened. Tanya entered the Nexus to reach transcendence and to live on as pure energy.’
‘But she’s dead,’ Laura repeated.
Bill gritted his teeth. ‘She was very much alive when she entered it.’
‘Okay, you think she might still be in there?’
‘Not necessarily, but a part of her could live on.’ Stephen had told him everything was fine, but Margaux’s condition proved to him something was happening. ‘What’s Stephen’s take on this?’
‘The usual with him. Everything is always fine. There’s always a logical explanation.’ She huffed. ‘Bill, we have to do something. Even if it’s covert research.’
Bill agreed. ‘I’ve got Jameson monitoring the Elite.’
‘You found him?’
Her question surprised him. Bill had told Stephen that news. Apparently, he hadn’t passed it on.
‘Sort of. Harvey did.’
He caught the scepticism in her eyes, and the disappointment. At being left out, perhaps? It wasn’t that long ago that he and Laura would have done this recon together.
‘Can you trust him?’ she asked.
‘About as much as I trusted Tanya. But I don’t have anyone else to help me, do I?’
Laura looked away. He hadn’t meant to snap, but her lack of contact had been hard on him.
‘I’ve got to go,’ she said, her voice barely above a low murmur. ‘See what you can find out.’
Bill cursed his temper. He wanted to talk to her more, ask her how things were going. But if she wanted him to know, she would have told him.
Calm returned to Laura’s voice as she said, ‘Harvey understands the first-generation code. You need to keep him on side.’
‘I will.’ Before she disconnected, he said, ‘Laura?’
‘What?’
‘Be safe.’
She looked away. ‘You too.’
Laura clicked off, leaving Bill to stare at a blank screen. The adrenaline that had fuelled his anger died away, leaving his hands shaking and a sickness in his stomach. Would he and Laura ever be the same again? There were moments when it had felt like old times; other moments when she could barely look at him.
Bill shook off his feelings. Feelings made his job harder to do.
One thing was certain: Bill needed Harvey’s help. And if that meant swallowing his pride and giving the geneticist what he wanted, then that’s what he’d do. But Harvey was off the grid. Perhaps a visit to the construction house would coax him out of hiding.
A knock on the door broke through his thoughts.
‘Come!’ he barked.
Julie popped her head in. ‘A quick word?’
Bill nodded at her.
Julie’s blonde hair bobbed as she closed the door. From the back, she looked like Laura. She turned around and shattered that illusion.
‘Bill, Harvey Buchanan is back on the grid and looking to be found.’
He sat up straight. ‘What’s he saying?’
‘He’s rallying all troops, saying it’s time to make a difference in this world. He mentions you by name, says they should start with the ITF.’
Shit. He needed Harvey working with him, not against him.
She folded her arms. ‘What’s got him all riled up? I thought he was helping you out?’
‘He was, but now he’s throwing his toys out of the pram.’ Bill guessed the message was for him more than the troops. ‘Was it broadcast?’
‘No, on a private channel.’
It was meant for him, as a warning.
‘Where’s it coming from?’
‘The safe house, the one he’s been living in since he came to Exilon 5.’
Huh, not exactly hiding then. Bill stood up. ‘I guess I’m taking a trip there.’
Julie’s gaze slid from Bill’s eyes to his chest, then back up. ‘You want company?’
He shook his head. ‘Not on this one.’ Laura’s disinterest in him still stung. ‘But I think we could try teaming up.’
Julie flashed a smile and tucked her hair behind her ear. ‘Sounds good, Bill.’
She left his office and Bill grabbed his coat, on his way to promise the earth to one Harvey Buchanan.
But he had one stop to make first.
14
‘Bill.’ Harvey folded his arms. ‘I was wondering how long it would take for you to come.’ He checked his watch and shrugged. ‘Not too long as it turns out.’
Bill stood on the porch of the safe house where Harvey had been assigned to live and work. Driving through the half-built estate, he’d passed by dozens of workers operating diggers in this latest New London expansion project. On Earth, machines would have done these jobs, but on Exilon 5 sentient programs had been pared back to the essentials—automated cars, drone deliveries and Light Boxes, including some with inbuilt avatars. While the workers got things done at a slower pace than the machines, it gave them purpose.
‘I assume the message on the Wave was meant for me?’
Harvey nodded. ‘A little taste of what to expect if you go behind my back.’
Marcus. ‘I wasn’t making a deal with him. He’s not going anywhere.’
Harvey uncrossed his arms and pointed a finger at him. ‘Neither is my career, thanks to you.’
Bill looked around, gripping the handle of his bag, which was slung cross-ways over his body. The workers were far enough away to give him privacy, but he felt too exposed in an area where known leaders of the rogue groups operated. His only solace was that Harvey was an influential figure in events. His reasons for keeping him on side just doubled.
‘Can I come in? Or are you going to say I-told-you-so on the porch?’
Harvey gestured for him to enter and drawled, ‘Please come in.’
Bill stepped inside the house, basic in design, with roughly hewn floors and beige-coloured walls. It was less of a home and more of a place to rest one’s head. Bill hadn’t meant for the workers from Earth to stay here forever. It was a halfway house, designed to get them accustomed to their new life. In fact, the expansion the workers were building was for them and others who’d arrived on the planet.
Harvey walked into the kitchen and Bill followed. He glanced inside a room off from the kitchen with a dozen monitors. Two men looked up in surprise. Their eyes widened and they hid their faces behind the monitors.
Harvey closed the door over. ‘We’re not alone, as you can see.’
‘I assume that’s where you send your messages from?’
Harvey flashed a grin at him. ‘Gotta communicate somehow. Did you know someone disabled the interstellar wave?’
Bill ignored the former geneticist’s attempts to rattle him, but he kept up with Harvey’s little game. ‘There’s no reason to contact Earth. Everything people need is here.’
Harvey smiled. ‘We both know the Wave serves a function here too. It facilitates private discussions over encrypted channels.’
‘Like I said, no need for it.’
Harvey dropped the act. ‘Look, Bill, I’m not interested in going ten rounds with you. You fuck me over, I’ll get the old team back together, Wave or no Wave.’
‘And Ollie Patterson?’
Bill had met with him once. He’d demanded weapons to protect this very site from the GS humans.
‘Patterson is a yes man. He listens to me.’ Harvey leaned against the counter, eyeing Bill. ‘What the fuck are you doing here anyway? Because you know I only want one thing from you.’
Bill pulled the strap over his head and opened his bag to retrieve his DPad. Before coming here, he’d made a quick stop at an empty warehouse, big enough and central enough to turn it into something special.
He turned the DPad on, activating a grey screen, and held it out to Harvey.
Harvey stared at it, then him. ‘’What’s this?’
‘What you asked for.’
‘I have plenty of DPads.’
Bill shook the screen. ‘Stick your thumb on the plate.’
Harvey flashed him a questioning look. ‘If this is a trick...’
‘No trick.’
Harvey pressed his thumb to the plate. A congratulatory note flashed up. His eyes slid from the pad to Bill. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘You’re the proud owner of a warehouse in central New London. It needs some equipment, but I should have you up and running in a few days.’
Harvey narrowed his eyes at Bill. ‘What’s the catch?’
The time had come to show his hand. ‘I need your help. One of the Indigenes is sick.’
The geneticist smiled. ‘I knew there was something. What do you expect me to do?’
‘I need to understand more about the genetics of the Indigenes.’
‘That’s what Jameson’s for.’ Harvey shook his head. ‘I’m out, Bill. I just want to live a quiet life on Exilon 5.’
Somehow, Bill doubted that. ‘Come on, Harvey. You’re not the least bit curious?’
‘Maybe.’ He paused then shrugged, clearly trying to downplay his interest. ‘What’s wrong with him or her?’
‘Her. A first-generation Indigene. She used the Nexus and collapsed after.’
‘That could be due to age.’
‘She couldn’t breathe. The only thing keeping her alive? Surface air.’
That caught Harvey’s attention. He straightened up. ‘A mutation?’
‘Possibly. We know nothing about the first generation. All that information is back on Earth. But we have the next best thing.’
Harvey paced to the glass door looking out at a porch, a two-seater swing set, and a square patch of grass. Beyond the garden and low fence was Exilon 5’s untamed landscape.
He turned back. ‘When did this happen?’
‘A few days ago.’
‘After Tanya entered the Nexus.’ Harvey concentrated on the floor.
‘What do you know about the self-destruct code that was added to the first generation’s mutation at the start?’ asked Bill.
Harvey looked up at him. ‘I wasn’t the only one to work on their creation.’ He lifted his shoulders. ‘As far as I know, the expiration code kicks in much later. None of the first gens are old enough to die of natural causes. We’re talking another sixty or seventy years for the eldest ones.’
‘And yet we have one displaying strange symptoms. The code is the only thing that separates the elders from the second generation.’
‘Is she the only one to be affected in this way?’ Bill nodded. ‘Then you’re worrying about nothing.’
‘Excuse me?’
‘Bill, one Indigene is not a problem. Did anything else significant happen to this Indigene?’
‘She lost her mate.’
Harvey splayed his hands. ‘See? It could just be grief causing this. We only know what we created, not how the Indigenes have further mutated without us. That’s why Charles Deighton was so obsessed with creating a new species.’
Mention of the former—and dead—CEO caused Bill to shiver hard.
Grief or not, this was not normal. ‘I’ve got a feeling something bad’s about to happen and I came to you to ward off any major strike. Will you help me?’
Harvey examined his thumb, the one he’d used to register as the new owner of the warehouse. ‘Kit out my clinic and I can do some research there.’
‘Send me a list of what you need.’
‘What about Jameson?’
Bill frowned. ‘What about him?’
The former geneticist lifted his brows. ‘If this has anything to do with Tanya’s visit to the Nexus, my help might not be enough. You’re going to need his help too.’
That’s what worried him. The problem might be more complicated than one sick Indigene.
15
The district buzzed with the arrival of four new guests. Not only was Margaux feeling better and sitting up in bed but four elders—two from District One and the newly appointed elders from District Eight—had bolstered everyone’s spirits.
Except for Stephen’s.
Their arrival, timed too closely with Margaux’s sickness, could not be ignored. Margaux had been District Three’s guest for three and a half weeks, yet now they decided to show up? One of his charges must have been keeping the elders from other districts appraised of the situation here.
Stephen neutralised his feelings in front of the elders as he showed Emile and Marie, from District One, and Maxime and Clara, from Eight, around the district. The auras of his charges shone bright green, a calmer colour to the hesitant yellow and grey that had marked their moods since the attack.
Score one for the visiting elders.
Serena came along to keep Marie and Clara company, lending her calming influence to the small group, but mostly to Stephen. She needn’t have bothered. Nothing could calm him.
Stephen kept an easy pace with Emile and Maxime. The two elderly males, of a similar age to Gabriel, walked with a slight stoop, like Pierre used to do. Both elders barely lifted their feet as they navigated the uneven floors of the tunnels. Miraculously, they managed not to trip. With each centenarian clocking over fifty years’ experience each, Stephen’s eight years as an elder paled in comparison to them.
Stephen, we hope our visit is not putting you to too much trouble, said Emile.
No trouble, said Stephen. I just wish I’d known you were coming. I could have prepared some domiciles for you.
Emile flashed a smile. Too kind. Last-minute plans, you understand.
Maxime said, Word had spread to District Eight that Margaux was unwell. How is she now?
Stephen smiled uneasily, switching to his voice. ‘Doing well. She’s been enjoying her respite here.’
He prepared for every word to be scrutinised by the four elders. If he got a clean bill of health for his district, maybe they’d leave.
Serena reached through the telepathic noise. Why do you need their approval, Stephen?
Because if they don’t give it, I’m worried they’ll take over.
Emile frowned at Stephen. While the elder could not hear his conversation with his mate, a strange hum accompanied telepathic use. Stephen flashed him another half-hearted smile.
Stephen’s appointment to leader had drawn scepticism from the other districts. Not just because of his age but also his handling of the peace treaty negotiations after Pierre’s death. The treaty had locked all the districts into an agreement many did not want. The elders had asked to be included in negotiations, but Stephen had close ties with the ITF and Tanya had refused to speak with anyone else.
Emile lifted his chin, his eyes delicately roaming the space. And the Nexus? I hear it has evolved since Serena’s arrival.
The elder looked back at her. The females keeping her company touched the vibrating walls of the tunnels, which reflected the mood of the district. Stephen hoped the vibes they were sending out were good ones.
Serena offered Emile her best diplomatic smile. ‘That was eight years ago. Since then, it has adapted to our needs. It’s much more energy efficient now than before. Would you like to use it?’
Emile waved his hand at her, then at Stephen. ‘Perhaps later, when we’ve had our tour.’
Stephen sensed animosity towards Serena,
a late addition to the Indigene world. She’d arrived in the district after having been created from Anton’s DNA. Before that, she’d been Susan Bouchard, a technician working in a lab in Toronto.
Some, it seemed, still held prejudices against his mate. He’d noticed a similar attitude among several of the first-generation Indigenes, but the animosity was most noticeable in the elders. Their snobbish attitude appeared to have extended to Stephen, a second-generation Indigene born of two first-gen parents. Gabriel, Margaux, Pierre and Elise had been exceptions to this.
May we see your Council Chambers and your Gathering Room? asked Emile, his withered hands tucked behind his back.
Stephen frowned at the informal request; it sounded more like an inspection. ‘Okay, but why?’
Emile laughed and spoke aloud. ‘I apologise for the intrusion. I knew Pierre quite well. He boasted about his collection of books in the Chambers and said the Gathering Room’s soundproof quality was second to none.’
Stephen glanced back at Serena, who shrugged lightly.
‘Sure.’
He led the party to the Council Chambers first. Maxime frowned at the open door; the surprised look he flashed Emile didn’t go unnoticed. Emile entered first, followed by Maxime. Both males headed straight for the bookshelf dividing the room in half. Stephen had left Pierre’s books as they were. This was still his and Elise’s space and always would be. While he’d made the books available for anyone to read, seeing these two elders poke around Pierre’s treasured collection bothered him.
Emile picked up one book on the history of humans. ‘I would love to read this some time.’
Stephen gestured to the collection. ‘You can borrow it whenever you’d like.’
Emile placed the book back in its slot. ‘Perhaps later. Now, the Gathering Room?’
Stephen kept pace with the elders’ slower one. He hated slowing down. It gave him too much time to think.
Keep it together, said Serena. They will be gone soon.
I hope so.
The Gathering Room wasn’t far from the Chambers, a soundproofed space used in the past to discuss relevant matters with representatives from the various districts. But its use had been more prevalent during Pierre and Elise’s reign. In the last eight years, Stephen could count on his hand how many times he’d used the room, or invited ageing representatives from other districts to join them. These days, he kept matters in house with a set of representatives from District Three, a younger demographic that more suited the changing times. The last meeting in this room had been with Bill and the underground operatives, both Indigene and human.
