by Eliza Green
‘We are not here to take over, but we saw improvements that could be made now, not later. We didn’t want to wait.’
‘We want to hunt more. We hate the restrictions,’ shouted one of his charges.
All eyes were on Stephen, even the representatives of the district who’d voted him in to lead. But the representatives no longer decided things. Eight years ago, he had made the decision to rule democratically, something he was beginning to regret.
Audible and silent voices permeated the space. Only one reached him: Serena.
We may not have a choice here, she said.
That didn’t matter. He was in charge. What the majority wanted was not always in their best interest.
He ignored the many gazes on him, some hard and unyielding. ‘The restrictions remain in place. That’s what the treaty demands.’
Emile stepped forward. An innocent act to any bystander, but Stephen took it to be a move of aggression. He pitched one leg forward, in defence.
Emile froze in place and held his hands up. ‘What has happened here that we cannot have a civil discussion?’
Stephen snapped out of his hunting instinct and straightened up. ‘Speak.’
Emile lowered his hands. ‘The treaty is outdated and the other elders agree. You agreed to it. You must turn your back on it.’
The sets of eyes watching his response unsettled him. A new red bled into the sea of turquoise.
‘I would prefer to have this discussion in private.’
‘No, we will have it here. You claim to be a democratic district. Let’s see it in action.’
Something clicked with Stephen. ‘So that’s what this is about? You blame me for agreeing to the terms of the treaty. Yet, for the last eight years, you followed the rules. The minute we have a little trouble with the GS humans, which we dealt with alone, you now have your excuse. Tell me, did you vote as to which of the elders would come?’
Emile’s expression held no emotion. ‘We needed all elders to agree.’
‘And with Gabriel’s death and Margaux’s rescinded leadership, you had it?’ Stephen laughed and turned away. But when he caught the looks of pity and anger flashing in his charges’ eyes, he turned back to Emile. ‘If you think you know better, it’s all yours.’ He threw his hands up. ‘I’m done.’
Stephen stalked away; he heard someone follow him.
At the exit, Serena caught his arm. She spun him round. What are you doing? You need to fight for this place.
Stephen shucked her off and kept walking. ‘This place needs to fight for me.’
19
Big changes start with little ones. It’s what Bill had said to Laura once, not long after they’d met. She had just introduced Stephen to him. Shortly after, he’d secured Stephen safe passage off Earth. While she hadn’t heard him say that in a long time, the statement still rang true.
Small changes were occurring in the district. Margaux was sick, but recovering. That was good news, but to go from breathing less oxygen to more—how could that be a positive? Then there were the elders, who were swanning around like they owned the place.
From the back of the Central Core, Laura watched Emile give Stephen a dressing down in front of his charges. She attempted to read the minds of those around her, but a novice like her didn’t have the skills.
Arianna and Anton stood on the far side of the room, both with shocked looks on their faces. When Emile demanded changes that could compromise the peace treaty, the pair looked ready to make a move. But they didn’t, and Laura understood why. It wasn’t their place to command. They weren’t the ones in control.
Two men in a pissing contest was hardly a new concept. Laura had experienced it before when she’d worked for the Earth Security Centre. Male colleagues thinking she was there for their amusement had tried to push her around. No, change wasn’t a bad thing. Nor was the forceful Emile trying to assert his authority over a group of charges who’d lost their way under Stephen and Serena’s leadership.
But Emile would soon realise District Three’s demographic had more in common with Stephen and Serena than they did with the four centenarians. Promising them freedom to hunt would satiate them for a while, but it wouldn’t be long before the followers demanded more. The treaty operated under the ITF’s control. Ground troops were under orders to arrest anyone who didn’t follow the rules. What then? Would Emile, Marie, Maxime and Clara be forced to retract their offer to lead? Would the Indigenes in District Three realise life was better under the current regime?
Big changes start with little ones. Except that change had to come from Stephen, not elders belonging to a different district, and a different era.
Stephen stormed off. His leaving created a palpable, nervous energy among her friends, but a sense of relief among his charges. Laura exited too, using a different tunnel to Stephen. She sensed Clement in the west of the district, where he usually was around this time. She had noticed his absence today and that had surprised her. Maxime and Clara were his elders now, assuming, of course, he would one day return to District Eight.
She followed the curve of the tunnels, grazing the rough surface of the wall with her fingers in the same way she’d seen other Indigenes do. The rock, absorbing the energies of the Indigenes, vibrated roughly beneath her fingertips. While she could probably work out the science behind the vibration, she did not know how to read its energy.
Laura moved as fast as her Indigene DNA would allow. She made one stop first, in the east of the district, where Anton’s lab was located. An idea had occurred to her, a possible way to talk to the ghosts. Anton had created a neurosensor that had been successful in opening up Laura’s skill. Surely Anton wouldn’t mind her experimenting with it?
She arrived in the lab to find it empty. The smell of cooked wolf stored inside the oven reached her, despite its containment inside a pocket of insignia rock air. She assumed Anton’s team were all at the Central Core.
Laura walked over to the middle bench of three in the room and plucked up the hard, plastic box containing Anton’s neurosensor. She opened it and stared at the smooth, flat disc of metal covered in silicone. It had worked once to remap her neural pathway and open out her telepathic ability. It had also allowed Stephen to predict the arrival of Tanya and the Elite.
Movement outside the door caught her by surprise. She spun round to see a worried looking Anton and Arianna enter the room.
Anton stopped and frowned at her. ‘What are you doing in here?’
She held up the box. ‘I want to borrow this, if I may. I have an experiment I’d like to try.’
Anton’s eyes lit up at the word “experiment”, but he looked too shell-shocked to ask her about it.
He waved his hand at her. ‘Please be careful with it.’
Laura passed them and smiled at Anton. ‘I will. And don’t worry; things are rarely as bad as they seem.’
Arianna flashed a half-hearted smile in return. Laura left them to their private discussion, barely believing her own advice. If she did, she wouldn’t be trying to talk to ghosts. She sped off towards the western section of the district.
A few minutes later, she arrived in an area with a high concentration of gamma rock. Gamma’s amplification properties helped the Nexus to heal the Indigenes faster. In this network of tunnels with alcoves, Indigenes used the area to improve their skills.
Laura slowed her approach to the individual alcoves, similar to the ones in the Central Core, but larger and deeper, and offering more privacy. She checked in each one, finding a lone female Indigene halfway inside the alcove, sitting on the floor with her eyes closed. In other alcoves, lone Indigenes paced the length of the twenty-metre space. On occasion, they would stop and touch the vibrating walls.
She found Clement in the last one, sat cross-legged on the floor. Laura walked inside the alcove, stroking the box in her hand. As though he sensed her, he opened his eyes and smiled up at her. But the smile dropped away when he caught the look on her face, which she imagine
d appeared fearful.
He jumped to his feet. ‘What’s wrong?’
His voice barely lifted above a whisper, but his tone indicated his worry.
‘Didn’t you hear what happened just now? In the Central Core?’
Clement shook his head, frowning. ‘This part of the district is like a cocoon of silence.’ He touched her arm. ‘What happened?’
‘Emile and Marie are setting new rules, and your new leaders of District Eight—Maxime and Clara—are helping them.’
Clement stepped back. ‘They’re not my leaders.’
‘Of course they are. You’re from District Eight.’
‘But I feel connected to this place.’
His blue eyes bored into her. He touched her arm again, but this time the move felt too intimate.
She eased it out of his grip and turned away, pretending to think.
‘It’s just bluster,’ Clement argued. ‘They want to be seen to be doing something. I sense the Indigenes here want something to change, but aren’t sure what.’
Laura faced him. ‘Stephen was humiliated.’
‘Every good leader will face a challenge to their authority. Stephen is no different.’
‘But what if the Indigenes want to follow Emile?’
Clement smiled, which only irritated Laura. ‘What’s so funny?’
‘You remember Pierre and Elise, correct?’
She nodded, not seeing his point.
‘They ruled this place, but with difficulty. That’s what Gabriel told me. And Gabriel and Margaux didn’t have it any easier in my district. But one thing I’ve come to learn about Indigenes is they are fickle.’
‘Much like the humans they were created from.’
Clement nodded. ‘I suppose so. We should all embrace change. It can either set us on a different path or validate that we were already on the correct one to begin with.’
Laura understood. ‘So you’re saying that after a while the Indigenes will want Stephen back in charge?’
Clement pursed his lips. ‘It depends on how much he wants the role.’
Laura hoped Stephen would see this moment for what it was: a bump in the road. But she also knew her friend would take this as a personal attack on him.
‘I guess we’ll have to convince him to step up and take back control of his district,’ said Laura.
Clement tilted his head slightly. ‘Did you come all the way down here to tell me this? Or did you come for a different reason?’
His words, although innocent, sent a strange shiver through her. Why had she come here and not spoken to Serena or Arianna—or Stephen?
She nodded, hoping to disguise her feelings for this blue-eyed Indigene. Thoughts of Bill surfaced; she pushed them down.
Laura opened the box in her hand and removed the neurosensor.
‘I can’t read the minds of the Indigenes unless they let me in. I can’t see moods in colours like Stephen can.’ She pressed her hand against the vibrating gamma rock. A bubble of laughter erupted from her. ‘Hell, I can’t even figure out what these damn vibrations mean.’
Clement pointed at her hand. ‘Is that Anton’s neurosensor?’
She nodded. Clement had seen it once before in action. Laura placed the disc on the side of her head, like Anton had done once before. ‘It has worked before to boost my abilities. I thought we could try it, since this life does not come naturally to me.’
‘Your training is going well, Laura. Give it time. It will all feel more natural soon.’
Pity her patience didn’t agree. She set her shoulders back. ‘My lying skill is the only thing that’s unique to me. I told you I wanted to see if I could speak to the ghosts. I might not be able to read minds, but if I can speak to them, maybe that could be the next best thing?’
Clement didn’t laugh, not like he had when she’d suggested it the day before.
As though he’d heard her thoughts, he said, ‘I might not have thought it a good idea when you said it to me then, but I’ve had time to mull it over. The manifestation is part of the Indigene. A living entity, if you will. The darker part of the psyche.’
‘So it’s possible?’
Clement shrugged. ‘It’s never been done before. Who knows if we have the ability to talk to your “ghosts”?’ It was the closest analogy to what she saw when the lie happened. ‘But you’re the only person I know who can see them.’
With the neurosensor on, she felt Clement more intimately. Shaking her head and her thoughts away, she asked, ‘Can we try now?’
The light in his eyes faded a little. ‘Well, I assume that’s why you came.’
Not wanting to lead him on, she nodded.
Eager to resume training, she asked Clement a question. ‘Are you from District Three?’
Her Indigene friend drew back his shoulders. Hands behind him. Feet set apart slightly. ‘Yes, I am.’
The black manifestation shifted away from his form. Laura stepped closer to it, but the second she did, it vanished. She stepped back.
‘What happened?’ asked Clement.
‘The ghost appeared, but pulled back into you when I got too close.’
Try again, Laura.
‘Have you always been an Indigene?’
‘Yes,’ replied Clement.
The ghost shifted out from him again, like a curious stranger peeking out from behind a wall.
Laura stepped forward again. The ghost pulled back into line.
She shook her head at Clement.
‘Let’s try a deeper lie,’ he suggested. ‘One that keeps it out for longer.’
Laura touched her finger to her lips. ‘Do you think Margaux will be okay?’
‘Yes.’
The lie shifted again. Clement’s response caught her off guard and she forgot about the ghost. ‘You don’t think she will?’
‘Concentrate, Laura.’
‘Oh, yeah. Sorry.’
She stepped closer. The ghost held its position, allowing her to get near. The neurosensor enhanced her connection to it. She felt its presence like a shiver. But when she got too close, it snapped back and took her shiver with it.
‘Wait!’ she said. The ghost peeked out from behind Clement, curious. ‘Can you talk to me for a second?’
The manifestation stared at her for a moment, then disappeared.
An excited Clement grabbed her arm. ‘Something else, Laura. I can feel it.’
His touch sent a shock of pleasure through her. Bill’s face entered her mind, forcing her back and out of his reach.
‘Do you think Stephen is a good leader?’
‘Yes.’
The lie snapped out, more violently than before. She wanted to ask Clement about it, but remembered what she was trying to do. The ghost stared at her, waiting.
‘Can you hear me?’
The black shadow just stared at her.
Try to communicate silently, urged Clement.
She switched to her inner voice. Can you hear me?
Yes, came the reply.
Her pulse pounded at her success. What can you tell me about the lie?
Her cheeks flushed at not knowing what to ask.
The ghost tilted its head. He likes it when you do that.
Laura frowned. Do what?
But she had a feeling she knew. Her cheeks grew hotter.
He wants you.
The ghost’s revelation frightened her. She grabbed Clement’s wrist, feeling his body stiffen in response. She looked up at him, while the ghost looked on. His blue eyes found new depths within her, as though they could see into her soul. With the help of the neurosensor, an intimate part of his mind opened up to her. She saw an image of him kissing her, and then one of them taking their friendship to the next level. Her skin heated at the thought.
And that’s when she heard a chuckle beside her. The ghost was still watching.
She jerked back from Clement.
Are you doing this? she asked the ghost.
He wants you, it repeated.
Then it snapped back inside Clement.
‘What happened?’ he asked, rubbing his arms.
She touched her shaking fingers to her lips, not sure how much he heard or felt. ‘Do you... want me?’
Clement laughed. ‘What?’
‘Answer me.’
His laughter faded and he looked away. ‘Yes.’
Laura’s gaze slid to where the ghost had appeared before, but nothing emerged.
He looked back. ‘My feelings are my own. I wouldn’t act on it, I swear. I know you’re married.’
His blue gaze caught Laura unawares. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t feel something for Clement. But was it love or lust?
‘Your ghost told me you wanted me.’
‘And you thought it was a lie.’
‘Yes, because he also showed me something you wanted to happen between us.’
Clement stepped back from her. ‘I’m sorry. I’ve tried to fight my feelings. But that’s what they will stay.’
Laura sighed softly. ‘I feel the same.’
Clement stared at her, hopeful.
‘But I need to know if things are over between Bill and me before I give into them.’
Clement’s gentle smile relaxed her.
‘It’s what I would expect of you. My morals, however, are a little less perfect.’ He frowned. ‘My ghost showed you the truth?’
‘Yes, it would appear it likes to cause mischief.’
‘So the neurosensor works. If you can talk to the ghosts, perhaps you can gain insight into what might be coming.’
‘That’s the hope,’ said Laura. ‘The deeper the lie, the chattier the ghost appears to be.’
20
Head in hands, Bill sat at the dining table hunched over his DPad. The Actigen had spiked his energy levels and he’d spent the day and night scouring through old files on Dr Jameson, from back when he’d worked for Charles Deighton and the World Government. Eight years ago seemed like a lifetime now. So much had happened since then, not least the creation of the GS humans—a title given to them by the general population. Their official titles? Elite One through Ten, and Conditioned numbering a hundred.
