by Eliza Green
Serena echoed the guard’s words. ‘The others will see you for what you are now, Stephen.’
He looked at her. ‘What’s that?’
‘A leader.’
For the first time in the last eight years, he finally felt like one. He’d made some hard calls about using the Nexus and telepathy, but his delay, coupled with the push back from his charges, had resulted in too many deaths.
‘They’re not going to like what I need to do next.’
‘It’s the right call. There has been dissent here for too long. You must lay down some ground rules.’ Serena linked her arm in his. ‘Have you spoken to Emile yet?’
‘No, but I think I should do that before I speak to the district.’
‘It’s the best move. He’s still your main opposition. Others listen to him, and see his elder years as making up for the experience you lack.’
Stephen gazed at the uneven tunnel floor as he pondered that. ‘We need to change the way we live. If we don’t have unity, we have nothing.’
She squeezed his arm.
They entered the Central Core, not as busy as the day before. The number of patients using it was dwindling by the hour. Several medics roamed the area to check on patients, but Stephen counted only three Indigenes who still looked sick. Without the Nexus, their natural immunity would have to suffice for now. But for some, their immune systems were not as strong as others.
‘Everything okay here?’ he asked the medics.
‘Fine, Stephen,’ said one. ‘We’re seeing a full recovery here. Any news about the Nexus?’
‘Tomorrow,’ he said with a nod. ‘Those who have cleared the illness can begin to use it again.’
His mate nudged him. ‘Go, before you change your mind.’
Stephen gave Serena a weak nod before he walked off. He wasn’t looking forward to this next part.
The infirmary where Emile was recovering wasn’t far, but Stephen wished it were farther away.
He hesitated outside, drawing in a deep breath. With his head held high, Stephen entered the room to see the elder had swapped his bed for a chair. He’d been one of the first to get sick and one of the last to recover.
Stephen walked up to him. ‘How do you feel, Emile?’
He had a blanket over him. Marie was sitting up in the bed next to him, looking around.
‘Fine. The illness took a lot out of me.’ He pulled the covers up higher. ‘Without use of the Nexus, though, my recovery has been slow going.’
Stephen detected a little animosity in the elder’s tone.
‘A precaution, you understand. The Nexus was ill. It would have been unwise to use it.’
Emile grunted, his eyes sliding away. ‘I suppose that was one of your better decisions.’
Stephen had enough of the snippy remarks. ‘When do you return to your district?’
Emile made eye contact with him. ‘Tonight. Marie and I have been away for too long.’ His gaze lingered. ‘And your plan is?’
‘For what?’
‘To deal with the problems you have created here.’
Stephen frowned. ‘The virus has been dealt with. The Nexus trusts Serena again, enough to let her heal it. We are in a good place. There are no problems.’
Emile chuckled, which irritated Stephen.
‘What’s so funny?’
‘You don’t get it. The young, they are restless. The illness doesn't change anything. I assume you will resume your draconian rules that limit hunting on the surface?’
Stephen’s breaths quickened; he tried to calm down. ‘That is what the peace treaty allows. It is not my rule. If we break it, we suffer the consequences.’
Emile’s eyes widened, the amusement in them clear to see. ‘That’s my point right there. We never used to live under anyone’s rules.’
‘We never had animals to hunt before the humans arrived.’
‘Take off the blinkers, Stephen.’ Emile shifted in the bed. ‘You cannot return to the old ways.’
Stephen gritted his teeth. He wished his ability to see auras would return. Then maybe he could see Emile’s mood. But everything was still offline. The longer it stayed away the more he worried none of it would return.
Instead, he forced a smile. ‘I’m glad to see you and Marie are well again.’
He turned and left. Outside, Anton and Arianna waited with Serena. Both of them had recovered fast, like Stephen. It seemed the immune systems of the second gens were more robust than the first. Serena had shown no signs of illness at all. The third gen was possibly immune to Tanya’s infection. But none of them had recovered their full strength. A trip to the Nexus would fix that.
Anton donned a cheeky smile. ‘We didn’t want to interrupt your little discussion.’
‘He’s an old fool,’ said Arianna.
‘You must do what’s right for this district,’ added Serena.
His gut agreed. He knew his next decision wouldn’t be popular, but he had to know how bad things were—who was willing to follow his rules and who wasn’t. It was time to follow Pierre’s style again.
‘Call everyone to the Central Core.’ he said to Anton. ‘Tell them to gather in one hour.’
☼
Sixty minutes wasn’t long enough to gather his thoughts, but no amount of time would help that. He stepped into the Core, which was packed with Indigenes—how many Stephen couldn’t tell. Nor could he sense the moods of everyone around him. He looked around at the mix of young and old, relieved to see they had recovered enough to be here.
He climbed onto a makeshift platform, borrowed from one of the teaching alcoves, at one end of the space. It brought him head and shoulders above the group.
‘My charges of District Three. I cannot convey my relief to see you looking well. This past week has been an ordeal, and I know some of my commands were not popular.’
He spotted a dressed Emile and Marie at the back of the space, their faces wiped clean of emotion.
He swallowed hard, wishing he could at least get a read on the moods in the room. ‘The Nexus will be available to use from tomorrow, on a rotation basis. We must re-introduce the energies to it slowly, to avoid a repeat of what happened.’
‘More rules!’ a male shouted.
He tried to locate the bellowing Indigene. ‘Necessary rules, to keep you safe.’
‘We want to hunt!’ another male said.
The voices of dissent sounded younger than him. Maybe Emile was right about the young not wanting to follow him.
Too bad. Someone had to be in charge.
‘We have rules about that...’
‘We almost died because of them,’ the first male said.
The humans, Stephen assumed.
‘We don’t want to follow their rules.’
Stephen lifted his chin. ‘We have to; there’s no alternative.’
A stony silence descended on the room, but the familiar buzz that accompanied telepathy deafened him. Those who had not received shock treatment used their inner voices. Stephen, unable to sense or participate in the silent activity, was forced to bring order.
‘Please use your voices. Not all of us have recovered our telepathy.’
The buzzing continued. The Indigenes with their ability intact continued to defy his request.
‘I won’t ask you again!’
His eyes flashed to Serena, who shook her head at him. She still had her ability. Anton and Arianna, without theirs, assessed the room. Emile and Marie both wore faint smiles on their faces.
He focused on the room again. ‘I command you to stop, or you will be confined to your quarters.’
That did it. Several of his charges walked out, much to Emile’s amusement. His eyes slid to Stephen. There, plain for Stephen to see was an I-told-you-so look.
Stephen hopped down from the podium and pushed into the centre of the room. Perhaps he needed to speak to them from one level—theirs.
‘Where are you going?’
Indigenes pushed their way out. �
�Anywhere but here. This place has become a dictatorship.’
‘It’s for your own good.’
‘You almost killed us.’
‘It wasn’t my fault.’
One rounded on him. ‘Yes, it was. You led the GS humans here. You allowed them to infect our district.’
Stephen had no comeback, because it was true. He stood back, watching helplessly as half of his charges left. Those who remained looked uneasy.
Under their intense scrutiny, he stood tall. He was still leader, after all.
Fanning his hands the way Pierre used to, he said, ‘Everything will be fine. Please return to your duties.’
The room emptied to leave just Anton, Arianna and Serena. He couldn’t look at them.
46
It had been twenty-four hours since Jameson and Harvey had completed their treatment of the Indigenes. While their cure had been welcomed by most, some patients had shown contempt for their saviours. Bill had spoken to Stephen since. He’d reported the cure was working, but the telepathic ability had yet to return.
Now, Bill stood next to Jameson in the cryogenic room. The Elite rested upright in their pods on one side, the Conditioned on the other. He had made a promise to reverse the minds. The time had come to fulfil that promise.
In the middle of the room, Jameson set up the mind-mapping machine that had made it possible to perform the swap first time around. The Elite, still the empty vessels they had become after Jameson’s procedure, would soon regain their consciousness. It hadn’t been Tanya’s plan for them to live the rest of their lives in withered, frail bodies. But healthy Conditioned minds were deteriorating the longer the Elite occupied them.
Jameson attached a wire to the machine. On the end of that wire was a small circle of silicone. He explained how the circle and wire would act as a conduit to transfer the consciousness to the machine.
‘The procedure shouldn’t take long. I’ll store the Elite’s mind in the machine, then reverse the transfer into their original body. To do this, we’ll have to take the corresponding pairs out of the stasis pods and sit them on these chairs.’
Jameson pointed to a couple of chairs that he had positioned either side of the machine. The wires looked too short to stretch to either pod.
‘How long will it take?’ asked Bill.
Jameson pushed his hair back. ‘To complete all the transfers? An hour in total.’
Only one person had no corresponding Conditioned host: Tanya. Bill looked to the lone figure in a stasis pod set away from the pairs. Nobody preserved Tanya’s mind. She’d lost it to the Nexus.
One of Jameson’s assistants buzzed around the space checking on the pods. The other held a DPad and was standing in front of the empty shell that used to be Elite Seven, the only ex board member who Bill had woken up in his Conditioned host.
‘Slowly,’ cautioned Jameson. ‘We don’t want him waking up too fast.’
The assistant nodded and dragged her fingers down the screen. A hissing sound followed, then a slowing of a fan deep inside the unit, designed perhaps to keep the unit cool.
When she nodded and stepped back, Jameson clicked open the front of the stasis pod. The empty shell of Elite Seven stirred from his slumber. Jameson and his second assistant released the restraints and carefully took the shell down. They sat him in the first chair. Bill waited by the opposite pod containing the Conditioned playing host to Elite Seven’s mind. He expected the next step to go less smoothly.
As though Jameson agreed, he spoke to the female assistant. ‘Lower the dosage, but not all the way. We’ll need him calm.’
The assistant nodded and dragged her fingers down the screen a second time. Jameson walked over to the pod and opened the front. He released the restraints holding the Conditioned host in place.
‘Help me get him to the chair, before he wakes up.’
The Conditioned host stirred. Bill anchored his foot against the edge of the stasis pod and helped to lift him down.
‘Wh... what’s happening?’ said the Conditioned.
Bill had spoken to this host before, but it was Elite Seven who had answered.
‘Quick, into the chair,’ said Jameson with a huff, ‘before he regains his strength.’
The female assistant held a needle. As soon as the host was settled, she pierced the skin with it, but didn’t push. She remained on standby, finger over a control on her DPad, ready to act, if necessary.
Jameson cautioned her with a hand. ‘I’m going to need him awake for the next part and the brain firing on all synapses.’
The shell of the Elite groaned in the chair opposite, his head rolling to the side. The male assistant supported his head while Jameson placed a restraint made of leather around the Conditioned’s chest.
The Conditioned looked down lazily at the binding. ‘What’s this? Why am I restrained?’
He looked up, his eyes widening when they landed on the shell sitting opposite him. His wild gaze flitted to the machine.
‘What the hell is this?’ In the Conditioned host body, Elite Seven bucked against his restraints. His feral gaze found Bill. ‘You promised to free me.’
He’d never made that promise out loud. Bill held his nerve. ‘And I am.’
Elite Seven shook against the restraint supposed to keep him docile. ‘This does not look like freedom to me.’
‘You cannot occupy this mind any longer. To do so will kill the original host.’
Elite Seven jerked beneath the restraints. ‘I don’t give a shit about my host.’ Spittle landed on the machine. ‘Let me go.’
Jameson nodded to the female assistant, who pressed something on her DPad. Bill saw the top of the needle push down and some of the contents enter the Conditioned host’s body. Elite Seven’s thrashing slowed.
‘Let me go!’ His demands lessened in severity. A new desperation crept into his tone. ‘I don’t want to return to that.’
Jameson fiddled with the machine. He drew one wire from it and placed the circle on the side of the Conditioned host’s head.
Elite Seven grunted. ‘Stop...’
Bill had heard enough. He steadied Elite Seven; the move shocked him into submission.
‘Listen to me. You do not belong in that body. You never did.’ He pointed across from him without taking his eyes off the Conditioned host. ‘That is what you agreed to become when you changed into a new species. A greater experiment that transcended the ordinary body you inhabit.’
Elite Seven slumped against Bill; the host’s eyes grew wet. ‘But I want to live. Tanya forced me into this life.’
‘You will live, in the body that was meant for you.’
Stubbornness hardened Elite Seven’s expression. ‘I won’t leave.’
The host closed his eyes. He might have folded his arms had the restraint not been there.
But Bill would not bend to the will of a former board member. Inside this mind was a second one that Margaux had heard and Bill was trying to save.
‘Hurry, let’s get this over with.’
A flustered Jameson set the machine to run, to draw the Elite’s mind out of the Conditioned host. Bill watched and waited as the Conditioned host released a long breath, as if it were expelling something. Then the circle on the side of the host’s head blinked red, in tandem with another light on the machine. The host slumped forward.
With an outward breath, Jameson drew out a second wire and placed it in the same position on the Elite’s head. He flicked a switch and the machine buzzed softly. The transfer jerked the legs and arms of the empty shell, more compliant than the host had been.
The original Elite’s eyes fluttered open, as if waking from a deep sleep. Bill could barely see his eyes for the folds of skin covering them. The gaze sharpened and focused on Bill.
A croaky voice said, ‘You will regret this.’
The voice was Elite Seven’s but the delivery was weak.
‘I don’t think I will.’
Bill turned his back on the Elite and foc
used on the Conditioned. He was roused from his own slumber. Tears marked his eyes as he looked around the room. Jameson released his restraints. The Conditioned’s mouth opened and closed, possibly from shock.
Eventually, he said, ‘Thank you for letting me live.’
His words sparked regret in Bill. He nodded tightly at the Conditioned, then left the room and walked over to where the screens where. He had almost killed the Conditioned because he needed a cure. One had been found, but not with the Conditioned’s help. Keeping them in this state had been his choice. He’d wanted to punish the Elite, not save the Conditioned.
Inside the room, Bill saw Jameson and his assistants repeating the steps with the next Elite shell and its corresponding Conditioned host. The next Elite appeared to be more cooperative than Seven. His gaze went to Tanya alone in her pod.
Tanya. Bill returned to the cryogenic room and walked over to the isolated stasis pod. He placed both hands on the front of the tempered glass.
‘What will happen to her?’ he asked Jameson while the doctor repeated the steps with the next pair.
Jameson looked up and over as he flicked a switch on the machine to capture the Elite’s mind.
‘We can take her out of there, but Tanya’s mind is gone. Her body will last less time than those with their consciousnesses back. Did you want to keep her alive for longer?’
Bill looked up at the woman whose sole ambition had destroyed her appearance, and her life. He felt nothing for her now. No pity, no malice. He turned away from her.
‘No.’
Elite One, Tanya Li, was already dead.
47
A group of fast-moving Indigenes passed Laura, coming from the Central Core. They shot her wary looks. There’d never been a time when she’d felt welcomed by all of the Indigenes. Her first time here had generated a suspicious vibe. Now, even though she was half Indigene, their feelings toward her had not warmed much.
Shoulders and elbows jostled her in the tight corridor. Eyes down, she stopped and held her ground. If it made them feel better to take their anger out on her, she’d let them. Laura was not the same person she’d been on Earth, willing to let those stronger than her push her around. Her place was wherever she wanted it to be. And caught in this tunnel now, she knew exactly where she had to go.
