by Eliza Green
She looked around her. ‘Then what the hell did this place pay for?’
‘To get me started in my career. Relax, Laura. I’m interested in the science, nothing more.’
She wished she could believe him, but his shadow earlier had said otherwise.
Laura tossed the vial back to him and he pocketed it. ‘Get the results fast, Harvey.’
‘Give me one day to analyse them.’
She turned and left, shivering with fear. Her sacrifice had better be worth it.
Outside, Laura pulled her DPad out of her bag. Her finger hovered over Bill’s number, but she called Clement instead. He answered fast, as though he’d been sitting beside the DPad.
‘Laura, are you okay?’
Seeing his blue eyes comforted her.
She attempted a smile. ‘I’m fine. How are things there?’
‘You’ll be pleased to know Emile is doing better today, as are the others. Stephen and I saw a definite issue inside the Nexus. Now that we know, maybe things will improve.’
Maybe.
Clement’s trip inside the contaminated space worried her. ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’
His gentle look confirmed his feelings for her. It wasn’t fair to string him along, to use him for his friendship when he was holding out for more. She still loved Bill. Her jealousy over seeing him with Julie made that clear.
‘I’ve got to go...’
‘Laura, wait! Are you coming back?’
‘I don’t know.’
Clement nodded, drawing his lips thin and white. ‘Do what you have to do.’
‘Thanks, Clement.’
His eyes widened in surprise. ‘For what?’
‘For being a friend.’
He smiled sadly, then clicked off.
36
Stephen’s trip into the Nexus with Clement the day before had highlighted an issue, but the problem remained. Tanya had infected the Nexus; the Nexus, wary of new interactions, had then turned against all follow-up users. This issue only showing up now proved it was a new problem, not an old one.
He needed a cure now; not only for the Indigenes but for the Nexus too. The healing space was their lifeline. He couldn’t imagine never using it again. At least the Nexus in each district was isolated. The poison could only spread if one of the infected elders returned to another district and used it there.
The elders. Emile and the others were recovering. Surely that was a good thing? This problem might resolve itself on its own.
Stephen stood in Council Chambers, the only place to give him peace from the thumping frequency that accompanied his use of telepathy. His abilities were off kilter. His hearing was sometimes too clear, sometimes not clear at all. His speed muted. His ability to read minds—gone. Not to mention his foresight. Even after the GS humans’ power stealing machine had been turned off, Stephen still had not regained his newest ability.
What was happening to him?
A tap on the shoulder surprised him. He spun around, hard. Serena jumped back in surprise.
‘Don’t sneak up on me!’ he glowered at his mate.
She replied with a hiss, ‘I didn’t.’
Despite his failing abilities, he sensed Serena was also at a loss as to what to do. His failure to lead was coming between them; it wasn’t fair to take it out on her. This scientist needed order and a plan. As leader of District Three, he had neither.
The worry on Serena’s face pushed all other thoughts aside. What is it?
His use of telepathy sent a sharp, stabbing pain to his right eye. Sucking in air, he doubled over.
‘Are you okay?’ asked Serena.
‘Yes, I will be.’ He straightened up. ‘Did you need me for something?’
‘It’s Maxime and Clara.’ She paused. ‘They’re dead.’
He barely heard her over the white noise in his head. She told him to follow her and ran ahead through the tunnels. As if on autopilot, Stephen kept up with her.
Dead? How could that be? They were fine just yesterday, sitting up and taking liquids.
Serena brought him to the infirmary, where he paused for a moment outside. Not many sick Indigenes occupied the area. Good—that meant the illness was confined to just a few. He entered the infirmary to see two medics tending to Emile and Marie, the surviving elders, and the other three first-gen Indigenes. They all appeared to be asleep.
He could sense no other minds in the room. His breathing became laboured.
‘Are they all dead?’ he asked the medic.
The medic shook her head. ‘Just two. The others have slipped into comas.’
Stephen released a slow breath. It wasn’t great news, but it was better than his worst fear.
‘How long have they been like this?’
The medic said, ‘Two minutes exactly. Maxime and Clara died ten minutes ago.’
A pounding headache hit him. Stephen pressed his fingers into his skull to relieve the pressure.
‘Did they lapse into a coma too, before... you know?’
The medic nodded.
‘Can we do anything to save the elders and the others?’
The medic shook her head. ‘An illness like this would clear up in the Nexus, but they can’t use it.’
Stephen detected animosity from her. ‘And it will remain like that for the foreseeable future.’ He just wished he could see that same future. He probed for a commonality between the illnesses. ‘What were they all doing before they fell ill?’
Serena said, ‘They were speaking telepathically. Maxime and Clara more than Emile and Marie, or the other three.’
A possible correlation hit him. ‘The virus could be spreading through one of our abilities.’
‘How would it do that?’ asked Serena.
‘I don’t know, but it hurts me to speak silently these days. I should order—’
A sharp pain in his head cut him off. His foot slipped out from under him. He crashed to the floor, cracking his head on the unyielding surface.
‘Stephen!’ Serena cried. ‘Help me get him to the bed.’
Two sets of hands lifted him up and carried him a short distance. Stephen kept his eyes closed as the pain bounced around his skull. He felt a soft mattress cushion his back.
Serena’s voice rose. ‘What’s wrong with him?’
He opened his eyes but saw only black. It pushed him over the edge. ‘I can’t see. What’s happening?’
Someone shone a light into his eye. He saw the brightness, but not much else.
‘Have you been having any headaches?’ It was the medic.
‘Many.’
‘Stephen, why didn’t you tell me?’ His mate sounded angry.
The medic spoke again. ‘A pressure behind the eye could be compromising your vision. If it’s the virus, it could be affecting your skills.’
Just what he’d thought.
A scuffling noise close by alarmed him. ‘What’s happening?’
‘Bring them inside,’ said the medic. ‘We don’t have any spare beds. Put them on the floor.’
Someone grabbed his hand. It felt warm and soft, so he knew it was Serena.
‘Please don’t panic, but Anton and Arianna have just been brought in.’
He tried to sit up but the dizziness sent him back down with a crash. ‘Are they okay? Anton, Arianna...’
‘They’re okay, they’re awake. Looking a lot like you, actually.’
He squeezed her hand. ‘I can’t sense anything. Don’t lie to me, please.’
She squeezed back. ‘I’m not.’
‘And you?’
She sighed. ‘I’m okay.’
He pulled her close, using whatever senses he could to feel her.
‘Serena,’ he whispered.
‘What is it?’ Her mouth was by his ear.
He turned his head towards the sound. ‘Order all Indigenes to stop using their telepathic voices.’
‘You think that’s what this is?’ she said softly.
‘I don’t know
. A precaution. Serena...’
‘Yes, my love?’
He detected a wobble in her voice.
‘I don’t know how to do this, to live without my other senses.’
He heard her smile. ‘Tap into your human traits.’
It was the last thing he wanted to do. He felt less of an Indigene without his skills. ‘I can’t.’
‘You can and you will. You’re still the leader of this district. Show your charges how it’s done.’
He groped for her face, finding it. ‘Serena, you need to contact Bill, tell him we need the cure now.’
‘I will. Don’t worry, my love. Everything will be fine.’
A trace of worry in her voice betrayed her words. Maybe his “human” skill was kicking in.
Whatever was happening, he didn’t like it.
37
A silence descended over the occupants of the car. In the driver’s seat, Bill looked ahead of him. Next to him sat a quiet Margaux, hands folded on her lap. She had her hood up and was quietly observing life as it whizzed past. The car swapped the city and its high walls for the undeveloped landscape beyond.
Margaux took her hood down, her eyes crinkling against the brightness of the day. Back in his apartment, Bill had offered the former elder a pair of glasses to protect her sensitive Indigene eyes, but she had waved off the offer. Now, under the full sun, the Indigene appeared to have no trouble seeing. Whatever this illness was, it must have desensitised Margaux’s eyes. Stephen still had to wear his brown contact lenses whenever he visited during the day.
They were a few minutes out from the hospital when Margaux turned to him and said, ‘Things will get better, Bill Taggart. You’ll see.’
‘I hope so, but it’s hard to see it.’
He stared out at the city they’d created, but under a set of rules built on quicksand. The rules had come from an older regime that no longer existed.
‘Not just here, but for you.’ She slapped her chest, where her heart was. ‘Things will get worse before they get better.’
While she didn’t elaborate, Bill knew what she was referring to.
The car passed through the large gates and entered the compound, but not before the shocked guards ogled his passenger. It pulled up outside the hospital and they both got out.
Margaux popped the hood on her sweatshirt up. With a chuckle, she said, ‘Better I don’t scare.’
Bill smiled back, admitting to liking the oddest of the Indigenes. Like Gabriel, she was not afraid to speak her mind.
‘Come on.’
He walked her inside. Dressed in human clothes, her presence drew minimal attention from the doctors and medical assistants on the ground floor. A few patients still used the facilities, but with the virus spreading in the district and not knowing if humans could be affected, soon this facility could become a patient trauma centre. It was a risk bringing Margaux in now, but it was the only route in and Bill couldn’t wait for a quieter time. If the former elder had the virus, they needed her blood to find the antibodies and treat those affected.
They entered the lift hidden down a corridor at the back of the room. Margaux peered at the walls of the metal box.
‘Funny, I remember being in one of these before.’
Probably back when she was human. But the memories for those Indigenes who’d not opted for the genetic reversal treatment were sporadic and loose in meaning, or connection.
The lift opened two seconds later on the lower ground floor. He walked her out, feeling nervous about what Jameson might say.
Bill pushed the doors open. Jameson looked up and narrowed his eyes at his guest. Margaux removed her hood and Jameson’s eyes widened.
‘Relax, he’s more nervous than you.’ The elder chuckled. ‘Your heartbeat sounds like a fast train.’
She walked into the room, greeted by two shocked assistants.
‘Who’s this, Bill?’
‘Jameson, this is Margaux. We believe she is patient zero.’
Jameson was staring at her. ‘No last name?’
Bill had never thought to ask. He shook his head.
‘Margaux wants to help find the cure. She’s offering herself as a test subject. But don’t get wild ideas. You’ll treat her with respect.’ Beside him, the elder chuckled softly. ‘And I’ll be here to make sure you do.’
The doctor lost his rabbit-in-headlights look and offered his hand. ‘I’m pleased to meet—’
But the former elder wasn’t paying attention. She wandered off to the back of the room where the ten Elite stood inside their stasis pods opposite their nine Conditioned hosts. She entered the cryogenic room, despite Jameson’s protests, and walked up to the first original Elite body. Bill followed her inside, observing her as she placed her hands on the front of the pod.
‘We’ll have to sterilise the space now,’ muttered one of Jameson’s assistants.
Bill glared at him until the assistant looked away.
Bill joined her. She had her eyes closed and was concentrating.
‘Most of the Elite want to die.’ She opened her eyes, looking back at the Conditioned soldiers on the other side of the room. ‘And they want their lives back.’ She frowned at Bill. ‘The Conditioned say you are keeping them in this state.’
Her admission shocked him. ‘They can hear me?’
She nodded. ‘The mutations allow them to connect telepathically, to read your mind when your defences are down. The Elite do not possess the same skills as the Conditioned. Their minds have been too weakened by all the tests done to them.’
Bill rubbed a hand through his grey hair. ‘Shit, if I’d known you could have talked to them, I’d have brought you here sooner.’
Margaux fixed her grey eyes on Bill. ‘The Elite are tired, Bill. Tanya was the instigator, not them. They are not to blame for what she did.’
He couldn’t allow them to die, not yet. ‘When we have the cure, I promise to release them.’
He would first need Jameson’s help to transfer the minds of the Elite out of the Conditioned. Only one mind could reign supreme in each of the bodies.
Behind them, Jameson cleared his throat. ‘Miss... er, Margaux, could you come with me now?’
Margaux looked at Bill. ‘You’ll stay?’
He nodded. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’
Her tight expression relaxed a fraction. For the first time, Bill saw Margaux was nervous.
She followed a gloved Jameson out of the cryogenic room and over to a chair next to the array of screens, and sat down. Jameson fixed a mask over his mouth and used a titanium-strength needle to draw blood from her. The vial filled with clear fluid—Margaux’s blood. He then placed a sample of it into the immunoanalyser. Bill stepped closer to the testing area. Information from the machine filled the monitor with medical data only Jameson and his assistants could read. Jameson pulled up another two analysed blood samples and examined all three on screen.
He then picked up two silicone circles and placed them on either side of Margaux’s head. Jameson asked her some basic questions and ordered her to use telepathy: How did she feel? Was she cold? How old was she? Her silent responses fed into a second monitor, presenting as brain waves. Lines undulated in some areas; in others, they lay flat.
The results puzzled Bill. ‘What does it mean?’
‘Nothing yet, but early results tell me Margaux does not have the virus.’
That surprised Bill. ‘How? She got sick; she went through changes.’
Jameson removed his mask. ‘I don’t know but that’s why I just checked her brain functions. If the virus is transmitting between the species, it could be travelling in other ways.’
Margaux sat in the chair, her wide and interested gaze flicking between Bill and Jameson.
Bill frowned. ‘Like what?’
Jameson removed his mask. ‘The Indigenes appear to evolve when placed under intense emotional stress.’
Bill recalled how Stephen and Elise had evolved when Charles Deighton had th
reatened their district.
Jameson continued. ‘I’ve seen it in other test cases and Harvey confirmed he’d seen the same in early Indigene creations, when the memory wipe refused to take.’
Thinking about the early abuse administered by Harvey Buchanan and his colleagues made Bill angry.
Jameson asked the elder, ‘Have you experienced any major stress in your life recently?’
Margaux nodded. Jameson waited for an explanation, but he wasn’t to get one. She was too private to discuss Gabriel with a stranger.
The doctor flashed a smile. ‘Okay, one mystery solved. But there’s one more.’
‘What?’ asked Bill.
‘Margaux’s telepathic activity is off the charts.’
Bill was no expert, but this Indigene had always been more astute than others, seeing and feeling more than they did.
‘I don’t think that’s unusual for her.’
‘Maybe not.’ Jameson tapped a finger to his lip. ‘But it got me thinking about what she just said about the Elite and not being able to communicate telepathically. Tanya knew there was a risk they might lose their abilities if my team and I kept testing on them.’
Bill didn’t see his point. ‘So?’
‘The virus may have missed Margaux because of her unique ability.’ Jameson pointed to a flat line on the screen, depicting her brain wave function. ‘This is her telepathy line. The curve dips below the range that we can monitor.’
Bill still didn’t see the problem. ‘Isn’t that the point? That it flies lower than we humans can detect?’
‘Yes, technically, but our machines can still detect some use of the ability.’ He glanced at the elder. ‘Margaux is using hers as though she exists on a different plane to this one. Under the radar, so to speak. Like she’s communicating on one of your channels that’s off the grid.’
That made sense.
Margaux blinked, her gaze switching intermittently between him and Jameson.
‘So she’s offline?’ It was a crude analogy, but he had no better way to explain it.
Jameson nodded. ‘I suppose that’s a good description. If Harvey’s tests prove that humans are not affected by the virus, it could be spreading because of telepathy.’
