Cutting the Bloodline

by Angeline Trevena

  Kenton smiled. "Ok then, yes, the girl in the mental hospital. If you could hear her stories, hear what she went through. She's not a criminal, she's just a poor girl who suffered years of abuse."

  "And you let your heart get a little carried away?"

  Kenton ignored the comment. "There's this guy, Gus Murphy. I thought he was helping with the book, but all he wants is this huge, bloody revolution. He said he was going to hurt her." Kenton looked across the lake. "Maybe not just her. He can get people inside places. He wanted editorial control of the book. He wants me to write lies to fuel his revolution." Kenton wiped a tear from his face. "I said yes."

  Peter was silent for a moment. He had never been impulsive, approaching problems with calm and logic. Kenton had taken after his mother.

  "And you think what happened to your mum..."

  "What if it was him?"

  Peter stared across the lake, his eyes flicking back and forth as if looking for an answer in the water.

  "Why did you want to write this book?" he asked.

  "To expose the truth."

  "Well then, there you go." Peter folded his arms, signifying that the conversation was over.

  Kenton stared hard at the wood grain on the railing.

  "But what about Mum? What about Amie? I can't lose either of them."

  Peter took Kenton by the shoulders, and turned him towards him.

  "I told your mum about your book. It was a day that she barely remembered me. But she knew who you were, and she was so proud. You know what she said to me? She said 'And you gave him that stupid pen.' She was so happy, Kenton. It was the first time I'd seen her smile in a long time. Even when she forgets faces, she always remembers—" He thumped his chest.

  Kenton let his tears flow.

  "Now don't be silly," Peter said. He turned away, leaning back on the railing. "You know, life has a funny way of sorting itself out, don't you think?"

  Kenton looked at Peter. Although he had a habit of avoiding making his point, he was always right. He always had been.

  "I need to speak to Drew. Thanks Dad."

  "But I didn't even do anything." Peter winked at him.

  "I'll see you soon."

  24

  Thursday 20th March 2053: The Turncoat Magazine Office

  Valerie Conley dropped into Drew's chair, shaking her head. She looked up at him. "Has he lost his mind?"

  Drew returned to pacing the floor. "I honestly don't know what's going on with him. I don't know what to say to you."

  "Doesn't he realise this is far more important than some girl?"

  "It's more than that, there's his mum too. She was his original motivation for doing this. I don't know, I tried to tell him."

  Valerie stood up. "Then you need to do this. You have to write the book instead. I'll tell you everything you need to know."

  Drew shook his head. "Without all the background and Kenton's interviews, it's just a direct attack on the government. We can't do that, they'd never let us get away with it."

  The door opened, and Kenton stepped through it. He looked like he hadn't slept in a long time, and his face was bruised, his lip split.

  "What happened to you?" Drew asked.

  "Some guys jumped me, courtesy of Lina Moore. Honestly, it's nothing, it was barely a scuffle."

  "And have you come to your senses?"

  He glanced at Valerie. "Never been thinking clearer."

  Drew rubbed his hands together. "Thank god for that. Let's do this thing."

  25

  Friday 30th May 2053: Drew Snider's Residence

  Drew opened the fridge, gesturing to the chilled bottle of champagne. "Is it too early?"

  "Never too early," said Kenton. "The book's ready for release, we're getting more free publicity than we could have possibly hoped for. No matter what happens, we've made history."

  Drew pulled the bottle from the fridge and set about opening it.

  "You better be pouring me a glass of that," Neive called from the living room.

  "Yes darling," Drew called back, rolling his eyes at Kenton.

  Drew popped the cork, letting the liquid foam over his hand. It wasn't classy, but it was more exciting. And they deserved it; it may be the last drink they ever had. Kenton shook the thought from his head.

  Drew held his glass up. "To Kenton Hicks, the most ballsy, bloody-minded journalist I know. When others would have given up, he ignored the death threats, and pushed on."

  "And to Drew Snider," Kenton said. "You never lost faith in me, even when I was losing my mind."

  "Drew!" shouted Neive. "Drew, the book's on the news!"

  They bundled into the living room and gathered around the television. The news reader sat in front of a poster advertising the book's impending release.

  Kenton grinned at Drew. He felt like a child, giddy on his first taste of alcohol. The image changed to a press conference where the Prime Minister himself was speaking into a bouquet of microphones, camera flashes lighting his face.

  “This book is nothing but a left-wing, liberalist’s effort to devalue all the benefits we have seen come from the Eugenisence Programme. You wanted a crime-free utopia, and you got it. You wanted security in your own homes, you got it. You wanted your streets to be safe, and they are.

  “You, the people of Britain, asked for help, and Eugenisence answered that call. We all lived in fear as an uncontrollable crime-wave swept across the country, threatening to extinguish civilisation entirely. No one could stop the criminals, no one could protect the people. No one but Eugenisence.

  “In a few weeks, Kenton Hicks, an unremarkable journalist, will attempt to undo all the good Eugenisence have done. And why is Kenton Hicks trying to do this? Simply because he is unremarkable. Every man seeks to leave his mark on the world, to leave behind some kind of legacy, something for the world to remember him by.

  “But let me tell you this, if Kenton Hicks is remembered for anything, he will be remembered for writing propaganda which has no basis in truth. He will be remembered for failing to change the world. He will be remembered as a man who stood alone against justice, a man whose voice was drowned out by those of the people of Britain. The people who know why their country is free from crime, and the people who want it to remain that way.

  “So, I ask you, to ignore this book of lies, to walk away from it, and do not grant Kenton Hicks the fame he desires. Eugenisence will keep your streets safe, while this book seeks to return them to chaos.”

  Drew cheered, slapping Kenton on the back. He raised his glass again.

  “To Kenton Hicks, the unremarkable journalist. Long may he reign.”

  26

  Thursday 12th June 2053: Hookend Psychiatric Detention Centre

  The trees in the garden were thick with summer leaves, the sun high and bright. Narrow pathways weaved their way between flowerbeds and shrubs.

  "It's so beautiful out here," said Amie. "I've been a good girl and earned myself some privileges. I go to group therapy now, use the library. Joining in. Just like they want." She squeezed Kenton's arm. "I'm so glad you decided to come back."

  "I need to tell you something."

  Amie stopped walking and Kenton looked at her. It wasn't the right time for this. Or maybe that was an excuse for losing his nerve.

  "The book comes out next week," he said instead. "We're keeping that quiet though. We don't want bookshops or depots targeted."

  They walked on again.

  "I've seen the posters," Amie said. "People have them up on their walls. You're a pin-up."

  Kenton laughed. "A pin-up? Me?" He shook his head in disbelief. Drew would have a field day with that one.

  Amie pressed in close to him. "My hero."

  They walked in silence for a while.

  "There are no birds here," Kenton said.

  "If you could just fly over that wall, would you choose to stick around?"

  "I'm going to be really busy for a while," Kenton said. "Book signings, interviews, p
robably a lot of hiding too."

  "You're a celebrity now. A lifetime of dark glasses and fake beards to save from being mobbed by adoring fans."

  "Did you get the advance copy I sent you?"

  Amie sighed. "Eventually. It was rather bashed up by time I got it, with some choice words written on the cover."

  "Well, I guess that was inevitable."

  "I've read it twice already."

  "Twice?"

  She tipped her head onto his arm. "Well, the bits about me."

  "I think my sequel will all be about you." Kenton laid an arm around her shoulders, his heart racing. "While we're on the subject of you, I passed your case notes to a lawyer. I hope you don't mind."

  Amie stepped back. "What did they say?"

  "She specialises in working with the abandoned generation. You see, there are people out there that care. She's interested. She said she'd get in touch to arrange a visit."

  "She can get me out of here?" Amie's eyes flashed with hope.

  Kenton held his hands up. "Woah, slow down. She's just looking at getting your sentence changed from indefinite."

  "So I'd get a release date?" She clapped her hands, jigging up and down.

  "And carry on being the model inmate..."

  "Oh my god!" Amie launched herself at Kenton, throwing her arms around his neck. He hugged her back, pressing his nose into her hair. He set her back on the ground.

  "Just talk to her first. Don't get too excited." He shrugged sheepishly, knowing it was too late for that.

  Amie nodded. "I understand. We'd need a sympathetic judge, and there aren't many of them."

  "Well, I hear there's a book coming out that might be changing people's opinions."

  "I hope so."

  They walked on.

  "There's a new orderly on the wing," Amie said casually. Kenton stiffened. "He comes and chats to me, he's really nice."

  "He chats with you?"

  "Yeah. He seems to really care. He's new, so he gets all the crappy jobs. No responsibility."

  "So he doesn't hand out medication."

  "No, the orderlies never do that. We have to go up to the pharmacy. Some orderly lost his job a while back. It was a bit of a scandal actually. They found out he had ties to some extremist group, so security's been really tight for ages. We've been locked up a lot."

  Kenton smiled. "I'm glad you have someone to talk to."

  "Do you really think this lawyer could get me released?"

  "I have no idea. Please don't get your hopes up too much."

  "I can't help it. This is the first glimpse of hope I've ever had. Ever."

  "And if you got out, what would you do with the rest of your life?"

  She closed her eyes. "Everything." She looked up at him. "I'd like to find some way to help people like me. And I'd live by the sea, so I could go swimming every day."

  "Even in winter?"

  "Hey, I'm a hardened criminal, I can take it."

  They laughed.

  "Did you read the section in the book about Dr Conley's research?"

  Amie looked at the ground. "Yes."

  "You realise what it means?"

  She shrugged. "That I'm not necessarily a criminal because of my genes."

  "Exactly."

  She looked up at him. Not with the look of happiness he expected, but one of horror.

  "It's good news," he assured her. "People will realise that those branded as criminals aren't that at all."

  "You don't get it, do you? If it's not my genes making me a criminal, it was my own choice. I chose to set fire to that house. It means I'm evil."

  Kenton wrapped his arms around her, pressing his lips to the top of her head.

  "You're not evil, don't you ever believe that. You're institutionalised. You're suffering psychological fallout from years of abuse. You're not evil." He released her, and slipped his hand into hers. "You can be anything you want to be."

  "The future's mine." She pulled her hand away. "Shame about my past, eh?"

  Kenton pushed Amie's hair behind her ear, brushing his hand down her neck. "Just keep looking forward. Anyway, I should get going."

  "Already?"

  "Like I said, I'm going to be busy. I'll come and see you whenever I can, but I can't promise how often that will be."

  She smiled. "It's ok, you go save the world."

  She stretched up and kissed him on the cheek. He took her face in his hands and smiled at her. If only. He nodded and released her, pushing his hands into his pockets as he walked away.

  27

  Monday 16th June 2053: The Turncoat Magazine Office

  Kenton stepped into his office. Drew was there again, just hanging up his phone.

  "You need a PA," Drew said.

  "But you're doing such a wonderful job. Now get me some coffee."

  "Don't push your luck."

  Kenton gestured to the phone. "Who was it this time?"

  Drew rolled his eyes. "More interview requests. Just about every newspaper, magazine, TV and radio channel has asked now. You're quite the celebrity."

  "You know that's not why I'm doing this."

  "Doesn't hurt though."

  Kenton couldn't hold back his grin. "Yeah, doesn't hurt."

  "How does it feel to be the most talked about man in the country? Hell, probably the world."

  "Depends on what they're saying." Kenton dropped onto the sofa.

  "Eugenisence have not been off the TV since the book was announced. I've never heard anyone renounce something so much. They don't even know what it says yet. Not that they haven't tried. I can't tell you how much I've spent in legal fees fighting every one of their warrants. It got pretty close."

  "Maybe we should send them a thank you for all the publicity."

  Kenton leaned back and closed his eyes, only then realising how tired he was.

  "What if this doesn't change anything?" he said. "What if we only sell 200 copies? It's already been banned in every school, university, and library, and it's not even been released yet."

  "Being banned is the best publicity you can hope for."

  "I guess so." Kenton opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling.

  "Do you remember what you said to me when you pitched this book?" asked Drew. "Something like 'If we only change the minds of a few hundred people, it's a step in the right direction.' What happened to that?"

  Kenton shrugged. "I guess my motivations have changed a little."

  "You want a complete overhaul of the justice system."

  Kenton looked at Drew. "I have to save her. However I can."

  "You'll never be a great journalist. You get too emotionally involved."

  "Thanks for the compliment."

  "In this case, however, I think the book's better for the feeling you put into it. Your devotion to this comes through in your words, and that's how you'll change the world. People don't follow words in books, they follow people. People with passion. Passion can be very contagious, you know."

  "You don't think I'm crazy?"

  Drew laughed. "Of course you are, but you're honest too. I think the world needs more writers like you."

  "As long as I live to write the sequel."

  "Oh? We have a sequel in mind?"

  Kenton lifted his hands, laying the title out onto an imaginary poster. "Amie X: The Muse for the Man who Took on Parliament."

  "Let's just see how this one sells first."

  Kenton grinned. "So you really think I'm the most talked about man in the world?"

  "I really think it could be true."

  "Honestly, I've been trying to keep away from it all. I bet they're not saying anything nice though."

  "Well, let's see."

  Drew passed his hand over the panel on the wall, and it fizzed and lit. "News," he commanded. A news reporter appeared with the book's poster displayed behind him.

  "—have claimed that the book is merely propaganda seeking to cast doubt on the Eugenisence Programme. They claim it has no factu
al basis and that none of their own staff have been involved in the writing of this book. But now, I think we're returning to our breaking news story."

  The image changed to show the smouldering remains of a building. Fire engines and police vehicles filled the space behind the reporter, their lights flashing. She had to shout to be heard.

  "Yes, apologies for losing you there. It's a little chaotic here, as you can see. For those just joining us, this is the house of the lead scientist for Eugenisence, Dr Valerie Conley. We understand that the neighbours heard an explosion at around 5am this morning. Fire crews have now managed to extinguish the flames, but almost the entire building has been engulfed. A body has been removed from the house, although we do not know, at this time, if it is Dr Conley."

  28

  Monday 16th June 2053

  Kenton had walked out of the office without knowing where he was going. All he knew was that he couldn't breathe. He couldn't believe Valerie was gone. She wouldn't even see the book released.

  Kenton hadn't noticed it growing dark. The street lights were beginning to flicker on, and car headlights lit the road. He also hadn't paid attention to where he was going, and the streets looked worryingly unfamiliar. He needed to find an underground station and get home.

  "You shouldn't wander around alone," a voice said behind him.

  Kenton stopped, and slowly turned around.

  "You're a wanted man, Kenton Hicks." Gus moved into the acidic glow of a street light.

  "What do you want?"

  Gus stepped closer, his breath on Kenton's face. "You know what I want. I want the streets filled with people ready to fight for what they believe in. I want Eugenisence begging for their lives."

  "You're insane."

  Gus tutted and shook his head. "I'm passionate, Kenton, and I thought you were too."

  Kenton tried to shrug casually, but the motion came out exaggerated. "All I ever wanted was to tell the truth."

  "Your truth." Gus jabbed him with a finger. "What about my truth?"

  Kenton pushed him aside. "Then write your own damn book."

  Gus grabbed Kenton by the arm. He twisted it up behind his back, and pain seared through his shoulder. Kenton bent forward, but Gus just pushed harder. Kenton knelt on the damp ground, the pitted tarmac digging into his knees. Gus pushed forward, forcing his face towards the pavement.