Genesis Pact (Genesis Book 4)

by Eliza Green

  ‘That’s probably a good idea. I’ll watch the bar.’

  Ben stomped upstairs and threw himself on his bed. He buried his face in his pillow and screamed as loudly as he could. He hated this neighbourhood. He hated how Albert and Sal and others like them were treated. He hated that the best Earth could offer Indigenes like Isobel was a lifetime of slavery and hatred. This new world sucked and he wanted to do something to change it. He refused to be passive like his mother. For the briefest of moments he wondered she was still alive.

  Then that moment passed when he thought about how, on Exilon 5, his childhood avatar, Thomas, had been more of a parent to him than she had.

  He kicked, screamed and punched his way to peace. His mood felt lighter as he returned to the bar, but he tensed up again when he saw Kevin arguing with Isobel, coat and mask in his hand.

  ‘I don’t care what Albert said to you. I want you gone by the time I’m back. You hearing me?’

  ‘It’s really not your call, Kevin,’ said Isobel.

  Kevin’s face reddened. ‘Don’t use my first name, bottom-feeder. Call me “master” if you insist on addressing me.’

  Old Pete was grinning. He was turned towards the fight, his yellow teeth flashing and his hard eyes dancing with mischief. Judging by the quantity of beer in his mug, he’d moved on to his second drink.

  Ben moved closer. ‘Kevin, don’t talk to her like that.’

  ‘Shut up, Indigene-lover. It’s your fault she’s here, you know that? Albert wouldn’t have agreed to this if you hadn’t interfered.’

  ‘You tell ’im,’ said a pointing Pete.

  ‘You’re supposed to be working today. Where are you going?’

  Kevin swung his coat around and dropped his arms into the sleeves. ‘I’ve got some business to do.’

  ‘What do I tell Albert?’

  Kevin sneered. ‘Whatever the hell you want. I don’t care. As long as she’s working here, I’m not.’

  He slapped his well-worn gel mask on his face and connected the oxygen supply, flicking his nail against the bottle in frustration. ‘Stupid thing.’ He flicked it again and the oxygen finally hissed. Before Ben could talk him out of going, he’d opened front door and slammed it behind him.

  Ben checked his watch and looked at Isobel. ‘When’s Albert supposed to be back?’

  ‘He said later. That was all.’

  ☼

  The morning turned into afternoon and still there was no sign of Albert. Old Pete had left at 1pm, saying he had things to do. Ben didn’t want to know what jobs Marcus had him doing when he wasn’t at the tavern.

  Five customers remained in the bar: men ranging in age from late sixties to early eighties. All from East Compound.

  At 3pm, Albert finally showed. Ben dropped the cloth on the bar and strode over to him.

  ‘Where were you? I was worried.’

  Albert patted his shoulder. ‘Nothing to worry about. Sal and I had some extra business to discuss, that’s all. Then I accompanied her to the black market. She needed some parts for the generator.’ He removed his coat and looked around. ‘Where’s Kevin?’

  ‘He went out earlier. He was livid about Isobel working here. I tried to stop him.’

  Albert failed in his attempts to look relaxed. The space between his eyebrows creased way too much.

  ‘Where did he go?’

  ‘He didn’t say.’

  Albert sat at one of the round tables and nodded to the five men sitting together, playing cards.

  ‘We have room at the table, Albert, if you fancy wagering a little bet?’ said one man.

  Albert smiled. ‘Maybe later, Glen. I’ve already had the shirt taken off my back today.’

  Glen shrugged and dealt the cards. The pile in the middle of the table contained old photos, cheap strap-watches, plastic lighters and a scattering of matchsticks.

  Ben sat opposite Albert. ‘Have you had lunch yet?’

  ‘I just need a minute. Let me catch my breath and I’ll make us something.’

  Ben touched his shoulder. ‘No. You stay here. I’ll make it.’

  Albert looked up with a weary smile. ‘What happened to you? You seem grown up suddenly.’

  ‘Yeah, I guess I am. This shitty world will do that to you.’

  Ben prepared some food and set it down on the table in front of Albert. Glen and the other four men had gone, their card game over. Others came in to look at Isobel and left without buying anything. The number of paying customers in the tavern remained lower than normal.

  Isobel refused Ben’s offer of food, choosing to stay behind the bar and serve customers. Albert disappeared upstairs to rest, leaving just Ben and Isobel alone. He joined her behind the bar and cleaned glasses to keep busy.

  Another three hours passed before Kevin returned, but at least he was less hostile than before. He kept his eyes low as he passed Isobel. Ben wondered if he was finally coming round to the idea of her working there. But his whereabouts all day had him worried.

  ☼

  The evening was uneventful, with the usual regulars popping in and out. Old Pete was the only consistent business for the day, disappearing for a few hours at a time, and returning when his buzz had worn off. Isobel mostly kept to herself, speaking only when spoken to, and even then her answers were short and vague. Ben wondered what Isobel’s story was, where she’d come from, her Indigene skill. She’d said nothing about any of it. Sal had already asked her if she was an empath and Isobel had replied no. If not that, then what?

  More than once he saw her with her eyes closed, muttering to herself. Then her eyes would open and she’d stare at the walls, the stairs, the door.

  By 8.30pm, the place had cleared out, except for Old Pete. When Albert announced he was closing early, an irate Pete left but not without a little protesting first.

  Kevin had disappeared upstairs, leaving Isobel and Albert to sweep while Ben tidied away the chairs. By 9pm, the place was back in order.

  Isobel put on her coat and nodded to Albert. ‘See you tomorrow.’

  With a broom in one hand, Albert turned. ‘Yes. Tomorrow. But before you go, I wanted to say something to you.’

  Isobel tied the coat-belt around her waist and waited. Her expression was set to neutral.

  ‘I wanted to thank you for your help these last couple of days. I know this has been difficult for you, but the alternative is far, far worse. I hope you’re settling into Sal’s okay.’

  ‘Yes, Sal has been accommodating. But I didn’t come back to Earth to live my life as a slave.’

  Albert’s brow creased. ‘Please. You’re not a slave here. You may leave if that’s what you want, but I would strongly advise against it.’

  Isobel nodded, her hands paused on the ends of the belt. ‘Sal explained to me how this place works but I’d like to think that one day I will live as I please. This planet is not how I remember it.’ She nodded at him. ‘Goodnight.’

  ‘Goodnight, Isobel.’

  As Ben watched her leave, a funny feeling swirled around his stomach. He’d felt it all day, but it was worse now. Her muttering to herself, the staring at the walls, the door, the stairs.

  She had been working something out. Ben filled with a sudden dread that Isobel planned to escape Waverley tonight.

  9

  Ben ushered an exhausted Albert off to bed and promised to lock up. As soon as he heard Albert’s bedroom door close, he slipped his coat on and crept out of the tavern.

  Isobel had had a head start, so he ran at full tilt to Central Square. He was doubled over and out of breath by the time he got there, but there was no sign of her. He walked the rest of the way to Sal’s and knocked on the door. No answer. The front door had been padlocked from the outside.

  Curfew hadn’t kicked in yet, so he backtracked across the square with the rooftop guns and walked along the road to the tavern, darting down smaller roads that branched off the main route. He worked his way through most of the streets, eventually arriving back at the ta
vern. He looked at the large enclosing wall in the distance that defined Waverley’s boundaries.

  And that was when he saw her, moving so fast, her shape was just a blurry mass.

  Isobel’s movements became a stop-start motion. Hesitant, almost. She left the boundary and headed towards him, her eyes focused on the cracked road.

  Ben slipped into a dark and narrow side street before she could spot him. He watched her pass; she seemed distracted. With the memory of the patrol vehicle from the night before fresh in his mind, he decided to wait until Isobel returned to Sal’s before he returned to the tavern. And if she planned to escape instead, he would talk her out of it.

  He emerged from the side road and followed her along the East Compound route towards Central Square. Isobel hugged her body as if she was cold.

  Body temperatures close to normal. Lungs with the ability to adapt to different conditions. The latter change gave devolved humans the advantage in a killer climate.

  Ben kept to the shadows, but Isobel’s pace forced him out of the darker sections and into the weak glow from the occasional street lamps.

  She sped up forcing him to break into a sprint after her. She disappeared down another side street.

  He followed her into an alley that twisted and narrowed. Then he heard a struggle up ahead.

  ‘Don’t move a muscle or I’ll report you to Marcus. You hear me? Some lads want to have a bit o’ fun with you. I won the toss so I go first.’

  Ben turned the corner to see Old Pete with his hand on Isobel’s shoulder. He had pushed her up against the red-brick wall with one hand. The other ran along her outer thigh.

  Isobel stood frozen to the spot, her eyes wide and horrified. The sight made Ben’s stomach lurch.

  He crept up behind Pete. Slowly. Quietly. He made a gun with his finger and prodded it into Pete’s kidney.

  ‘Let her go.’

  Pete turned his head, swaying. His rancid smell crept inside Ben’s poorly sealed mask, making his nausea worse. Pete still had his hands on Isobel’s body.

  ‘Get outta here, you little shit. This is none of yer goddamn business.’

  Ben didn’t move. ‘Money has gone missing from East Compound funds and I thought I knew who took it. But I’ve noticed how you watch Albert count the takings. ‘

  ‘I don’t take what don’t belong to me.’

  Ben forced a smile. ‘Is that right?’

  Pete shoved Isobel away from him. Isobel stumbled a little just as Pete rounded on Ben.

  ‘Yeah, that’s right.’

  ‘What about the gambling?’

  He swayed again. ‘I have it under control.’

  ‘What about the money that’s gone missing from Sal’s? What about paying back Albert for all your free drinks?’

  ‘You can’t prove that was me. I always pay what I owe. And I don’t owe your granddaddy nothin’, see? “Free” bein’ the operative word in that sentence.’

  Pete’s lies sickened him the most. ‘Who’s Albert going to believe? You or me? You’re a drunk and a liar.’

  Pete’s eyes hardened. ‘You little runt. I ought to smack manners into you.’

  He balled his fist. Ben squeezed his eyes closed, and waited for the impact.

  But it never came.

  ‘Get off me.’

  Ben opened his eyes to see Isobel twisting Pete’s arm so far up his back, she was close to breaking it.

  ‘Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?’ she said.

  ‘Let go of me, bitch. Or I’ll tell Marcus on you.’

  ‘Let him go, Isobel. Please. I’ve got this.’ The last thing Isobel needed was Marcus on her case.

  She did. With reluctance.

  ‘If you say anything to Marcus,’ Ben said to Pete, ‘I’ll tell him you’ve been stealing money from Sal’s safe. Which is the same as stealing from him.’

  Old Pete backed off, stumbled a little, then staggered off down the alley into another side street that led away from Central Square.

  Isobel regained her composure and walked past Ben, heading back to the main street. He followed.

  ‘I’m okay, you don’t need to help me get home.’

  ‘I want to make sure that Pete doesn’t come back. The streets aren’t safe for you.’

  ‘I can look after myself.’

  ‘Yeah? Well it looked like you needed my help just now.’

  ‘I was distracted,’ she said. ‘What time is it?’

  ‘There’s forty minutes left till curfew.’

  Isobel took off at a new pace and Ben jogged to keep up with her. ‘Why did you veer off the main road?’

  ‘Because it’s safer that way. The patrol cars use the main roads. And I wanted to catalogue the location of all the rooftop guns.’

  ‘You weren’t at Sal’s. I checked.’ Ben’s breathing sharpened.

  Isobel made no reply.

  He accepted the silence for the remainder of the journey; Isobel out ahead and Ben running to keep up. When they reached Sal’s place, the padlock was gone. Isobel knocked on the door. When Sal answered, she checked her wristwatch and reprimanded Isobel for being late.

  ‘The streets are not safe, even for you,’ said Sal.

  ‘I’m back before curfew, like I said I would.’

  Sal peered past them as if to check they weren’t followed. ‘Girl, there’s more than just the criminals to watch out for in this place. Get in, both of you.’

  Ben explained what had happened out on the street, and Sal’s mood softened as she guided Isobel to the small, box-like kitchen. Isobel refused her offer of a seat at the kitchen table.

  ‘I can look after myself,’ said Isobel. She was shaking a little. ‘You’re both making a fuss about nothing.’

  Sal pushed her into a chair. ‘That act won’t wash with me.’

  Ben leaned against the kitchen counter and a sink full of dirty dishes. A pot handle dug into his back; he twisted it to the side.

  Sal filled a kettle with water and set it on a wire rack over a naked flame.

  ‘I don’t care who you are or where you came from. Old Pete has no business harassing anyone.’

  Isobel stared at her hands. ‘I could have snapped his neck if I’d wanted to.’

  ‘So why didn’t you?’ said Ben.

  ‘Because I’m no killer.’ Isobel lifted her chin. ‘Besides, if I’m forced to live here, it’s in my best interest to get on with the residents and killing them wouldn’t go down too well, would it?’

  Sal sprinkled something into a cup, poured boiling water on it and set it down in front of Isobel.

  ‘Is there no “off” switch with you? We are not your enemy, so how about you drop this haughtiness?’

  Isobel stared at the cup then brought it to her nose and sniffed it.

  ‘I’ve added some peppermint leaves that I grow myself,’ said Sal. ‘It will help to steady your nerves.’ She sat opposite Isobel. ‘Where did you come from? On Earth, I mean? I assume you now have your human memories? I mean, that’s what we’ve been told about reversal treatment. It gives you back your old life.’

  Isobel cupped her hands around the plain white cup but didn’t drink anything. ‘I remember almost everything, except when and why they changed me.’

  Sal got up, poured a second cup of water, opened one of the drawers and lifted out a different bag containing dried leaves. She sprinkled some in the water.

  ‘When were you changed?’ Ben asked Isobel.

  She seemed reluctant to answer. But then her shoulders dropped and she sighed.

  ‘Eight years ago, when they used genetics as a selection criteria for the alteration programme. I don’t remember them coming for me.’

  Sal sat back down with her drink. The liquid’s strange smell caused Ben’s nose to twitch.

  ‘Why did it take you so long to return home?’ said Sal. ‘Wasn’t it only a year later when the World Government released the dossiers to the Indigenes detailing every human they’d changed?’

 
Isobel sniffed at her drink and took a sip. ‘I didn’t want to believe it when we were told. That we were once human. I had no memories of my life here. In my mind I was an Indigene with a set of credible memories.’

  Sal pushed for more. ‘So what changed?’

  ‘A friend of mine asked for details of her past. She showed me the file that said she’d left a husband and daughter behind. It was then I wanted to know if I’d left anyone. If I had a family.’

  Ben folded his arms. ‘What did your file say?’

  Sal gave him a look. He straightened up and unfolded his arms.

  ‘It’s okay,’ said Isobel to Sal. ‘Ben is probably the one person I trust in this place, besides you.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I have a husband living somewhere in New York.’

  ‘Have you tried contacting him?’ said Ben. ‘What did he say?’

  Isobel shook her head. ‘I have no rights here, no access to the digital libraries, no way out of this neighbourhood. I don’t know where he lives now.’

  ‘I have access,’ said Ben. ‘So I might be able to get you the information you need.’

  Isobel looked at him, hopeful. ‘How?’

  ‘You can leave Waverley as long as one of us goes with you.’

  ‘Is it possible, Sal?’

  Sal shrugged and got up. She carried her drained cup to the sink. ‘You need to find your husband, Isobel. But you must prepare that he may not want to see you.’

  ‘There’s another reason I’m here. On Earth.’

  Sal turned around. ‘If you’re to live here, then I want to hear all of it. I don’t like secrets in my house.’

  Isobel’s lips thinned. She stared at the cup of peppermint-flavoured water, gripping the cup so tight Ben thought it might shatter in her hands. He waited for her explanation.

  Isobel looked up at them.

  ‘I’ve been asked to find a human on Earth. Jenny Waterson. I need to know if she’s in Waverley.’

  Sal and Ben glanced at each other.

  ‘I don’t recognise the name,’ said Sal. ‘Not in Waverley, anyway. Why do you need to find her?’

  ‘She works with some underground movement out of this jurisdiction. That’s why I opted to return to Waverley docking station and not one of the other cities.’