by J. J. Green
He couldn’t reply without revealing to the Guardians the fact that he had an ear comm. He said to them, “Leave now.” To the woman he said, “Take your boy and go.”
“No,” the male Guardian said. “Do not leave with that evidence. If you disobey, I’ll be forced to shoot.”
“You better shoot me first, then,” said Ethan. He adjusted his grip. His finger was a millimeter from the trigger.
A taut pause stretched almost to breaking point. The woman and child didn’t move. The little boy held tightly onto the piece of cloth and watched with round eyes. The male Guardian made his decision. He took a breath and moved a fraction, ready to shoot—
“Hey,” a voice shouted. Cherry had arrived. The two Guardians, the Gen woman, and the child switched their focus to the street behind Ethan. He didn’t want to take his eyes off the armed Guardian.
“Guardian, put down your weapon,” Cherry yelled. “Go back to your ship. You’re not welcome here.”
For a moment, the male Guardian didn’t react, then he reluctantly lowered his gun. Ethan risked a glance over his shoulder. It wasn’t only Cherry who had arrived to back him up. Two more farmers walked on either side of her. All three were armed.
Ethan returned his gaze to the Guardians. “I’d do as she says if I were you. She’s more dangerous than she looks.”
The female Guardian said to her colleague, “Let’s go. We’ll log this incident and return for the evidence later.” They departed.
Cherry came up by Ethan’s side. “What was that you said about me?”
“Nothing,” he replied. To the Gen widow he said, “They were right when they said your son could have found important evidence. Could you put it in a bag to prevent it from being contaminated?”
“I will,” the woman replied. “And I’ll hand it in soon. I just couldn’t bear to take it from my son right away. The Guardians wouldn’t listen when I tried to explain.”
“I understand,” said Ethan. “This could all have been avoided with a little more compassion and respect. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Thanks for helping us,” said the woman. She took her son’s hand and walked away with him.
“Ethan,” said Cherry, “did you hear the list of the shuttle passengers?”
“No. I’d stopped listening to the messages. I was asleep until I heard you call me.”
“I don’t want to get your hopes up, but Cariad’s name wasn’t on it.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“I must say,” Alasdair said when Cariad arrived at the revival center, “he’s quite a specimen.”
Aubriot lay under a sheet, unconscious, but alive.
“The finest genetic engineering money could buy,” Cariad said.
Alasdair reported that Aubriot’s vital signs were all normal and that he’d opened his eyes but then quickly lapsed back into unconsciousness again. A standard reaction after a successful revival. Cariad could vaguely remember the phase. At that time, she hadn’t been able to distinguish between dreams and waking. It had been a few hours before she understood that her cryonic suspension had come to an end and she’d survived.
Aubriot didn’t look too bad after his one hundred and eighty-four years of freezing. His skin was fresh and peeling, which was an effect of the drugs he’d been treated with. They would speed up cell renewal for the first few months after revival to replace the many cells that had died during suspension.
All of Aubriot’s hair had fallen out, as was also standard. His large, aquiline skull was perfectly smooth. His sizable, well-muscled body was outlined by the thin sheet. His large feet poked out at the bottom.
The sight of the man’s face, even asleep, caused Cariad’s stomach to knot with tension. As a person he was definitely preferable in his current state.
“He didn’t seem very angry,” Alasdair offered, “when he came round.”
“What do you mean?”
“You said he’d be pissed that he wasn’t the first to be revived.”
“I thought he would. What did you tell him?”
“I told him his revival was going well, and he’d soon be able to meet the other Woken.”
“And how did he react?”
“He just seemed to take in the information. Then he slipped away again. He’s probably not understanding much yet.”
“Perhaps he didn’t understand who you meant when you mentioned Woken. You Gens only began calling us that a few months after you began reviving us, as I recall.”
“Oh yes,” said Alasdair. “Maybe that’s it.”
“He’ll soon realize what’s happened when he sees me. Though I’m not sure if I want to be there for that revelation.”
“Why? You asked me to tell you.”
“I know, but… I told you who he is, didn’t I? He financed the majority of the Nova Fortuna Project.”
“Yeah,” Alasdair replied. “You said he sunk his life’s fortune into it.”
“Not just his life’s fortune. It was his grandmother who made the family’s trillions. His father and he only added to the family’s wealth. So, yes, it was understandable that he would want that pain-in-the-ass close oversight I mentioned. But imagine, Alasdair, what it was like for him being brought up with the kind of privilege his family had. The Global Government couldn’t touch them, for instance. They were beyond the law. They could do exactly as they wanted to whomever they pleased, and no one could do a thing.”
“I’m beginning to see what you mean.”
“The family made no secret of how much they spoiled him,” Cariad said, “and he was the only child. Whatever Aubriot wanted, he received, maybe even before he conceived the wish. He had servants waiting on his every whim and desire from before he emerged from his mother’s womb. Fulfilling his needs to perfection, anticipating his wants. As a child, he must never once have experienced disappointment, and then under his father’s stewardship he took over the business. With the disposal of more money than you or I could imagine, he crafted the most advantageous deals and met with great success. Until one day, I guess, Earth wasn’t big enough for him. The Solar System wasn’t big enough. Aubriot wanted the stars, and what Aubriot wanted, he got.”
“How eloquent, Cariad,” said the figure lying on the bed. Aubriot opened his eyes. “I couldn’t have put it better myself.”
Cariad swallowed. “You’re awake.”
“I’ve been awake for a little while. I just didn’t want to interrupt your wonderful tribute to my achievements.”
He hadn’t changed. Only Aubriot could have interpreted her words as a tribute.
“Welcome back,” said Alasdair. “How are you feeling?” He was reading the scan results on the screen beside the bed.
“I feel… ” Aubriot sat up. The sheet fell to his waist, revealing a brawny, hairless chest. He stretched, triggering ripples beneath his skin. “I feel bloody marvelous. That four trillion extra credits I invested in the cryo system paid off, hey, Cariad?” He looked at her from head to toe.
“We had some failures, actually,” Cariad said. “Sadly, some didn’t survive the revival process, and some suffered irreversible physical damage.” And some, like Anahi, might have suffered psychological damage too, she added to herself. She hoped that wasn’t the case with Aubriot, who was, in her opinion, already bordering insanity.
“Is that so?” Aubriot asked. “Interesting.” No sadness tinged his statement. No pity. He stretched again. “I seem to feel fine.” He threw back the sheet and stood up, entirely naked.
“Careful there,” said Alasdair, running to his side. “Take it easy. Those legs haven’t borne weight for nearly two centuries.”
Aubriot wobbled, and the medic eased him down to a sitting position. He tried to cover Aubriot with the sheet, but the man waved him aside.
“So when were you revived?” he asked Cariad, his eyes narrowing.
“Two years before Arrival, as planned.”
“Which was…?”
“Two years and thr
ee months ago.”
“You mean we’ve arrived?”
“Yes.”
Aubriot rose to his feet once more, eyes blazing. When Alasdair went to support him, he pushed the man aside so violently he hit the floor. “And why the FUCK wasn’t I revived first?”
***
After some time, Cariad managed to calm Aubriot down. She explained that after the failures, they’d wanted to perfect the revival process to ensure he didn’t come to any harm when it was his turn. The white lie mollified him. If there was one thing Aubriot understood, it was his own importance.
Having gained this small victory, Cariad went on to press her advantage. She told him about the rift that had opened between Gens and Woken, and how the Gens only wanted some autonomy and responsibility. They wanted to help run the colony they had been bred to take part in, she explained, but Anahi and other Woken had seized the reins and wouldn’t let go.
“Makes sense,” Aubriot replied. Alasdair had finally persuaded him to put on some clothes. He was sitting on the edge of the bed. “You scientists had your faults,” he said, “but you did seem to know what you were doing most of the time. These Gens, as they call themselves, they’re the seed corn, right? The seed doesn’t get to decide where it’s planted or how it’s going to grow.”
Cariad pursed her lips, biting back a retort. Speaking with Aubriot was like walking a tightrope over a pit of vipers. If she wanted to steer the Nova Fortuna Project financier to her point of view, she needed to tread carefully. “We engineered the Gens, it’s true, but we didn’t remove their humanity. They’re people, the same as you and I.”
Aubriot raised his eyebrows.
“The same as me anyway,” Cariad corrected. “Their desire to be in control of their own destinies is entirely natural. The more independence we take from them, and the more control we exert, the more they’re going to rebel. I don’t know why Anahi doesn’t understand that.”
Yawning, Aubriot gestured to Alasdair, who brought over the wheelchair that he’d demanded. “I’m going to see the planet now.”
Alasdair gave Cariad a look of panic. Aubriot was having his usual effect.
“There’s more that you need to know,” said Cariad. “While you were being revived, one of the shuttles exploded en route planetside. We think it was a bomb.”
“What?!” Aubriot looked as incensed as if the bomb had been intended for him.
Cariad told him about the First Night Attack, the arrival of the Guardians, the bomb in the stadium, and the shuttle explosion. As she went on, Aubriot turned red, then white, his eyes staring and his jaw clenching. Alasdair watched the readings on the scanner screen with concern.
“The Natural Movement? The fucking Natural Movement?” Aubriot went on to curse loudly while he vented his fury. Then he suddenly sagged. His strong features turned haggard.
“Maybe you should lie down,” Alasdair said.
Aubriot flopped to his side and collapsed on the bed.
“It’s been too much for him,” Alasdair said. “He’s still weak. You should go.”
Cariad stood to leave.
“Wait,” Aubriot said. His eyes remained on fire in his pale, tired face. “I want to meet these Guardians, then I’m going down to the planet. You all fucked up, and I expect you to put it right. You’re going to get this project back on track. I’m holding you personally responsible, Cariad.”
Great.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ethan hit his head twice on the protruding rock before he decided to chip it away. Plenty more people would be entering and leaving the storage cave and the stony spur would have more victims if he didn’t do something about it. As he worked away with a hammer and chisel, the ocean view spread out in front of him, Ethan ruminated.
Cariad quickly entered his thoughts, as always. He hadn’t spoken to her for weeks, not since the moment the ship-to-ground comm had been reopened and they’d contacted each other simultaneously.
“It’s good to hear your voice,” Ethan had said. “For hours, I thought you were dead, until I saw you weren’t on the list of fatalities. Thank the stars you weren’t on the shuttle.”
“Yes,” Cariad replied. “I was incredibly lucky. It’s good to finally talk to you again, Ethan.”
Then they’d both paused, uncertain what to say. Ethan spoke first. “I wanted to tell you I’m sorry I got angry at you after the fight at the equipment shed. That was why I invited you down to visit. I wanted to apologize, face to face. The argument we had has been on my mind ever since. When the shuttle exploded, I hated the idea that we’d parted on bad terms.”
“Me too,” said Cariad. “I mean, even before the disaster, I regretted some of the things I said. And I really do understand how you and the rest of the Gens feel. I’m doing everything I can up here to make things better.”
“I know you are, and I appreciate it. Now I’ve got the chance, I wanted to say, we shouldn’t ever argue like that again. We have something special. There aren’t many friendships between Gens and Woken. We have to try to preserve what we have.”
“I know,” said Cariad. “I agree.”
A silence followed. There was more to Ethan’s words than he’d stated, but he was struggling to express himself and didn’t know if he should try.
“Do you know when the shuttle runs are going to start up again?” he asked.
“No. No one knows. I don’t think Anahi has any idea what she’s doing. She’s out of her depth and too proud to admit it. She was requesting Guardians as an armed presence on the ship.”
“On Nova Fortuna? The Woken need protecting from each other now?”
“No, we don’t,” said Cariad. “That’s the problem. She’s paranoid. And she’s insisted on reviving another nutcase—Aubriot, the financier. Between the two of them, who knows what’s going to happen up here. I wish I was planetside with you.”
“I wish you were here too.” That was how they’d left it. They’d mended their rift, but Ethan felt the weight of things unsaid. The timing wasn’t right and he didn’t know if it ever would be.
Since then, he’d avoided Cariad’s comms. The subversive Gen group had made their plans known to the wider population and found they were welcomed. The process of slowly fitting out the cliff caves to make them suitable for human habitation was well under way. Equipment and supplies were being transferred surreptitiously, piece by piece. Ethan knew that his silence had to hurt Cariad and he was sorry for it, but he was worried that he might let slip a reference to what the Gens were doing. If she guessed or discovered the secret, it would put her in a difficult position. He didn’t think it was fair of him to do that to her.
One day, within a few weeks or months, she would know the reason for his silence. He hoped she would understand and forgive him.
The caves were dry and a little warmer than their surroundings, except for when the wind was blowing in from the sea. Sanitation had been the biggest concern at first. At the original settlement, the sewage treatment plant had been one of the first facilities that had been built. The Manual had laid out all the plans and instructions, so the Gens had an intellectual understanding of such things but no practical experience in creating their own facility from scratch in a different setting.
Luckily, the proximity of the caves to the ocean provided somewhat of an answer. They had a never-ending supply of water and the rocks below were regularly washed by waves. It wasn’t the perfect solution. At some point they would have to figure out a way to treat the waste, but it would do for the moment. The new settlement’s first latrines were built.
Garwin had devised a solar- and wind-powered pump that kept the latrine storage tanks supplied with seawater, and another engineer set to work on building rainwater storage facilities. Then, after the basic plans for storage, private, and communal caves had been decided, the Gens had begun the preparations for transferring the population.
Sneaking supplies, machinery, and tools out from under the noses of the Guardians tu
rned out to be even easier than anyone had guessed. Guardians didn’t involve themselves in the day-to-day running of the settlement, and they rarely stayed planetside overnight. No Woken remained on the planet surface either. After the shuttle explosion, they had all returned to the ship in an emergency evacuation, so the Gens had avoided their prying eyes too.
Day by day, little by little, the original settlement slowly emptied as the Gens transported everything they needed a two-hour flitter ride away to their new home. When the first crops were ready to harvest, they would transport them over too.
The effect on the general mood was almost palpable. An air of hope permeated Gen society. Complaints and worries were rarely voiced. Everyone seemed constantly energized and happy. Ethan felt the same. He missed Cariad a lot, but not a single other Woken nor his time aboard the Nova Fortuna. Living in the new settlement was hard and promised to become harder still, but he felt more alive than ever. He was finally living his own life in his own way, not an existence that had been dictated to him by others and the accident of his birth.
Then the day had come when regular Gens could begin giving up their homes in the original settlement and going to live permanently in the caves. One of the first to make the move was Twyla, Garwin’s wife. She was a kindergarten teacher, and she arrived to help set up the first small school, ready for the families who would transfer soon. The parents needed somewhere for their children to go while they worked on fitting out their caves.
Cherry had also been heavily involved in the moving-in process. Ethan wondered how she felt about seeing Twyla so often. Did it make things awkward for Garwin? Did Twyla know about her husband’s affair or wasn’t she even aware of his reputation as a philanderer?
Ethan paused at chipping away at the rock to wipe dust out of his eyes and rest his arms.
It had seemed to him that people had become more serious about their relationships over the few months since Arrival. Couples had grown less casual about exclusivity. Extra-marital affairs were more frowned upon. Even if Twyla had chosen to ignore Garwin’s frequent dalliances in the past, she might have changed her mind. She could be young enough to still be able to have children, and she had to like them, going by her chosen profession. Now that procreation was actively encouraged, that might throw a whole different light on things for her.
