by Eliza Green
Before the clinics came into existence, he’d tried every black market treatment. Now his life mirrored that of the animals they’d tested on, but instead of being trapped inside a cage, he was trapped in his own body. The tremors, becoming more noticeable, would be how others would see him, even though his mind was still as sharp as ever. So he controlled the disease as best as he could. He read the report again:
Parkinson’s disease results from mutations in the LRRK2, PARK2, PARK7, PINK1, or SNCA gene. It is characterised by a deficiency in dopamine. Some genes try to alter themselves, although we could not identify how or why. The nanoid treatments have so far only succeeded in fixing mutations in other patients, but point zero one per cent of the population still show symptoms of this rare disease.
Deighton held his hands out. While they were steady now they wouldn’t stay that way for long. The worst of the tremors were confined to his hands, but he could feel new twitches beginning in his arms and legs. His exhaustion from having to hide his condition only exacerbated the problem. When the tremors began, not much could stop them. It was a miracle nobody else had noticed his flawed genetic structure that could preclude him from the alteration programme. He knew well enough what happened to unsuitable types. Maybe the conservative pro-Earth board members would show mercy, let him live as he wished on Earth. Or he could be confined to one of the Infirmary clinics indefinitely, run by the autobots the residents called tin can men.
That’s why Daphne Gilchrist had to die. Not only had her disloyalty to him stoked his desire to end her life, but she had become too curious. He’d noticed the look she gave him on the boat after one of his tremors appeared.
He studied the file showing the double strand helix of his genetic structure and zoomed in to the defective genes that the nanoids could only patch, not fix. The alterations could never fix the underlying problem.
Only one solution guaranteed him a way out of his body: to become a new species like the Indigenes before the board members discovered his issues. The Indigenes healed fast and the process could potentially repair his genetic defects. But the ‘change’ must appear to work naturally with his code, not alert them to his incompatible genetic structures that would sentence him to an ordinary life.
Deighton pressed the call button on his monitor and the face of his doctor appeared.
‘I need to see you urgently,’ he said. ‘I’m running out of time.’
‘I’ll be in London on business tomorrow. Meet me at one of our safe houses,’ said the doctor.
‘Fine. Send the details to my DPad,’ he said before disconnecting the call.
20
Bill travelled to Sydney to see Laura and discuss his meeting with Simon Shaw. They both agreed it would be safer to speak in person. But he hesitated as he stood outside her apartment block. Should he drag her in to this mess with the World Government? It was his fight, not hers. He’d been the one to investigate the Indigenes. Deighton wanted him. He pondered his choices as he entered her foyer and called the lift.
Turn around, Bill. Don’t involve her. His inner voice repeated the warning in his head as he stood outside her apartment block. Walk away. Forget about her, the voice said as he knocked on her door. She opened it and smiled.
Don’t go in there. Give her a chance to live her life.
Bill returned the smile and slipped inside her apartment, already knowing she’d made her choice the minute she looked at the micro file.
Laura closed the door and Bill attached a disruption device to the front of her Light Box’s hardware unit. He sat down on the sofa while Laura hovered in a way that made him uneasy. Not that long ago, Bill would have hovered and Laura would have been the calm one.
When he couldn’t take any more, he pointed to a seat. ‘Sit. Please.’
Laura obeyed, but she sat too stiff to be comfortable. She clasped her hands together on her lap and stared at nothing. Bill shifted in his seat, feeling on edge due to her strange mood.
‘Don’t keep me in suspense, Laura. What did you find out?’ Bill had asked her to look closer at the transfer numbers, as Simon had suggested.
She blinked and snapped out of her daze. ‘I found nothing unusual in the reports about the transfer numbers, but I noticed something odd about the time it took for the people to arrive on Exilon 5.’
‘Odd—how?’
‘Well, the timing was all wrong. We know the trip takes two weeks. But the recent transferees—the ones selected based on their genetic code—arrived three days later than that.’
‘So what happened in those three days?’
‘Stephen told you a new Indigene arrived at the same time Anton returned home,’ said Laura. ‘You said the military were showing interest in someone called Serena.’ Bill nodded. ‘It’s possible they created her in those three days.’
‘Shit...’
‘You were vague about the details of your meeting with Simon,’ said Laura. ‘How did it go?’
Bill shrugged. ‘I profiled him but to be honest, I had prepared for him to order my death.’
Laura stood up and paced the room. ‘You mustn’t think like that. We can’t assume that’s their end goal.’
He watched her trace a figure-of-eight pattern similar to the one she’d made when last in his apartment. ‘The World Government wants my help.’
Her head snapped around. Too fast for normal. ‘Help how?’
‘They want to discuss a truce with the Indigenes and they plan to put me, centre stage, to provide a friendly face.’
‘And you’re going to do it.’ It sounded more like a statement than a question.
‘Maybe, but I wanted to hear what you thought.’ He watched her while she continued to wear a pattern in her carpet.
She didn’t slow down as she seemed to think about her answer. Then she stopped and a strange look crossed her face. ‘I think I’m hungry.’ She left Bill without an answer and padded in her bare feet to the kitchen. Minutes later, she returned with a pile of food stacked high on a plate and placed it on the dining table behind the sofa. On the plate were various cuts of cooked chicken, steak and pork. She picked up a leg of chicken and tore it apart with her teeth.
Bill could no longer hide his surprise.
Laura noticed and stopped eating. ‘Sorry, I’m being rude. Did you want some?’
He shook his head and she resumed her attack on the chicken, barely pausing to chew before she swallowed.
‘Are you okay?’
‘Yeah fine. Tell me more about what Simon said.’
Bill waited for a natural break in her eating before continuing. ‘Simon confirmed that Anton’s bomb was courtesy of Deighton.’
Laura slammed her fist down on the table. ‘That bastard.’ The table rocked with the force.
A startled Bill stared at her. ‘Laura, what the fuck is wrong with you?’
‘Nothing—I feel fine.’ The angry look vanished as fast as it had appeared. ‘I’m just angry that we were right all along.’ She eyed the remaining food on the plate.
‘I think I can trust Simon.’ Saying it out loud made Bill smile. ‘I never thought I’d say that about him.’
‘Who?’ Laura had a second chicken leg in her hand.
‘I was talking about Shaw—’ Bill shook his head. He might as well be talking to himself. ‘Can you stop eating for a minute, please?’
She dropped the chicken leg on the plate and stared at her greasy hands, as though they dripped with blood. ‘I’m sorry. I’m just so damn hungry all the time. Let me wash my hands.’ She disappeared into the kitchen and returned a moment later, towelling off her wet hands. She sat beside him. ‘Sorry, I’m all yours.’
Her expression had softened and she looked more like the Laura he knew. She turned towards him and her green eyes shone under the bright overhead lights. Then their legs touched and it was like a shock had passed between them. Her perfume lingered in the air between them and disrupted his thoughts. He drew in a deep breath, if only to give his mind tim
e to settle because she sat too close.
With Laura facing his side, he kept his eyes to the front. Her soft breath tickled his neck.
‘What else did Simon say about your involvement?’ At least she sounded more like her usual self.
Bill cleared his throat. ‘Not much else. If I agree to help, I expect they’ll fill me in on their plans then.’
She shifted in her seat and he became aware of every movement she made. Her knee grazed his and Bill felt that spark again. A heat ignited in his core and set his nerves alight. ‘I can’t tell if the World Government board really want a truce or if they’re using me to get close to the Indigenes.’
‘Possibly both.’ Laura shifted in her seat. His body reacted when her fingers grazed the back of his hand.
‘Laura, I don’t think that’s a good idea.’
He squirmed under her intense gaze, wondering where this new confidence came from. But then her green eyes sparkled under the light, and he wanted nothing more than to kiss her.
‘Is it just me, or is it getting warm in here?’ He repositioned his body. ‘Maybe I should sit somewhere else.’
‘I’m not stopping you.’ Laura grazed his hand a second time. ‘Sit wherever you want.’
Her touch zapped him like a bolt of electricity and turned his mouth dry. ‘What are you doing?’ He should have moved away. But instead he dug his fingernails into the sofa and waited.
She glanced at his hand, then looked at him. His breath caught in his throat. She was beautiful.
‘You’ve never thought about it? I’ve seen the way you look at me sometimes. Like when we went on that pretend date.’
She’d looked stunning that night. And yeah, he’d thought about it. But he didn’t want to take the risk and ruin their friendship.
Her soft gaze was still on him, her plump lips and mouth inviting him to come closer. Then her expression shifted again. It was only for a moment, but long enough for him to question if something else had caused the change in her behaviour. First there was the cough, then the excessive eating and restlessness. Now this uncharacteristic flirting and all since Stephen had treated her Seasonal Affective Disorder.
Laura frowned at him. ‘What’s wrong? You have a strange look on your face.’
She sat too close and Bill felt a familiar urge, one he hadn’t felt since his wife, take hold. He grabbed her hand, the one that touched him and was driving him wild, and pinned it between his. ‘Laura, this can’t happen. We’re friends and I don’t think either of us wants to ruin that.’
‘It’s only ruined if it’s a mistake. And this feels right.’
‘But that could just be the—’ The touch of her lips on his silenced him.
‘Laura, we’re just friends—’ he mumbled as he grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her in close. His mouth found her lips a second time and he pressed harder. ‘We shouldn’t be doing this—’ His tongue teased her mouth open, then found its way inside.
He stole a taste of her, a mix of salt and sweetness, and his excitement began to build. Coming up for breath, he pulled away, but even a second away from her was too long. He couldn’t deny the raw animal need inside him that wanted her.
He stood and pulled Laura up with him, feeling drunk in the presence of this beautiful woman. Had her eyes always been that green? He tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, then nuzzled her soft, smooth neck. A small moan escaped her lips and she arched her body against his. The sound sent him searching for her lips once more. She curled her leg around his until only an inch of space remained between them. His hands slid to her backside and he lifted her up until her legs wrapped tight around his waist. Her sweet lips melded with his as he carried her into her bedroom.
His brows lifted at the sight of her messy room, a room he’d remembered being tidier when he’d slept there just after meeting Stephen. But he said nothing and threw her onto the clothes-littered bed. She laughed and the sound made him smile. A little untidiness could not disturb this heavy, sweating and achingly sweet moment.
But a bout of nerves hit him and he stood back from the bed. He hadn’t been with anyone since Isla. Even Laura’s hooded gaze on him did little to settle his anxiety. He stepped closer to her and, with shaking hands, undid each button on her white blouse. Slowly. Laura grunted and ripped it open the rest of the way, scattering buttons around the room.
‘You were taking too long. Plus I have other blouses.’ She smiled at him and grabbed his shirt to give it the same treatment. ‘Now we’re the same.’
She slipped her hands to the front of his trousers and undid his belt buckle. Bill stepped back and opened the buttons himself. Then he stripped and tossed his clothes to one side until he stood naked and feeling self conscious in front of her. Laura’s eyes examined him from head to toe. Then she smiled and hooked a finger at him. Bill grinned and hovered over her, his self-consciousness forgotten.
A half-dressed Laura bit her finger so lightly he wanted to ravish her. But her zip wouldn’t budge until he yanked it down. He slipped the clothes off a wriggling Laura. ‘Hurry up.’ Bill tossed her remaining clothes aside and enjoyed the show as Laura slipped out of her underwear.
He climbed on top of her and kissed her stomach, her breasts, her neck, while his fingers twisted in her hair. He tasted her again just as he entered her. She gasped and bit his lip, drawing blood. Then she licked the wound. He pulled away from her. Was she tasting him? But Laura moaned and his thoughts narrowed until all he could think about was her.
His blood heated his veins. If he didn’t have her right now, he might explode.
She lifted her hips and he pushed into her, taking the pleasure she offered and giving it back. Her back arched and he closed his eyes as a calm he hadn’t felt in a long time flooded through him.
21
Laura woke the next morning to find a snoring Bill beside her in the bed. She turned to watch him, his chest, partially uncovered, rising and falling as he slept. A trace of a smile was on his lips.
She smiled too as she rested her head on her hand and hovered her other one over the small curls of hair that covered his chest. But her bravery from last night had disappeared and she touched his face instead. Parts of her skin burned from where his stubble had rubbed against her delicate skin. The rest of her face blushed as she remembered what they had done.
‘Oh my God...’
Her smile turned into a grin and she felt like a naughty child. She’d wanted him for so long, but she hadn’t been sure he felt the same way about her. Last night, her urges drove her actions and it excited her to know Bill had felt the same way. But in the weak light of morning, would he feel the same?
Bill stirred beside her. She felt herself withdraw. He stretched and opened his eyes. When he saw her he smiled. ‘Hey, what the hell did we do last night?’
Laura’s shyness returned. ‘I don’t know what got into me.’ She lay down and pulled the covers up to her chin.
Bill laughed gently and tugged the covers back down to her waist. He stroked his fingers over her naked stomach.
‘It’s a bit late for modesty, don’t you think? Do you regret it?’
Laura relaxed into the pillow and answered honestly. ‘I—no. Do you?’
‘No. I wondered why it took us so long.’ Bill’s eyes shone under the artificial light of her bedside lamp. His smile slipped away. ‘Does this mean our friendship is ruined?’
Laura rolled her eyes. ‘We weren’t that close anyway.’
Bill laughed. ‘Glad to see you back to your old self this morning.’
‘Yeah, I feel a little different than I did last night.’
Bill watched her.
‘What?’ said Laura, trying not to smile under his hot, serious gaze.
‘Want to try again? We really should check if this was a one-off.’ He kept his mouth straight as he continued to stroke her stomach. ‘I mean, we owe it to ourselves to check for the sake of our friendship.’
‘Last night could hardly
count as a one-off.’
‘You know what I mean. All the times we did it last night count as one try in my book.’
‘Well, why don’t you come over here and find out?’ She hooked a finger at him.
He groaned and covered her mouth with his.
Their lovemaking was more powerful and sensual than the frenzied sex of the night before. Bill held Laura in his arms afterwards, and they talked about anything that came to mind.
A little later Bill got out of bed. ‘Coffee?’ he said.
Laura watched him as he searched the floor for his underwear.
She propped herself up on one elbow. ‘You know I hate coffee. How about a cup of tea? I’m parched.’
Bill turned and smiled at her, but it vanished when his eyes darted from her face to the pillow. He scrambled back into bed and reached a hand out behind her. He drew large clumps of blonde hair out in his hand.
‘When did you start losing your hair?’ His eyes grew large as he stared at the hair in his hand.
Laura rolled out of bed and rushed over to the mirror. She tugged at her locks and breathed a sigh of relief.
‘Jesus, you frightened me for a second. It’s not that bad. I’ve been losing my hair since we lost access to the sun on this planet.’
Bill came up behind her and tugged gently on her hair, but his efforts yielded little more than a few wispy strands.
Laura felt too much like an experiment subject as Bill poked and prodded her. She tried to laugh it off as she walked away from him and pulled on her underwear. ‘Don’t worry about it. It’s nothing to be concerned about.’ But he didn’t look convinced.
‘Well, what about your eyes, then?’ he said. ‘They looked so different last night. This morning and in the light of this room, their colour still seems exaggerated.’
Laura returned to the mirror and examined them. ‘They’ve always looked like this. I see nothing unusual about them. You’re worrying yourself over nothing.’ Her stomach rumbled and she could think of nothing else but food. I need to eat.’
