by Eliza Green
‘Well how the hell do we turn it off?’ said Jenny. ‘Where did he unleash the virus?’
‘That’s the problem,’ said Hayes. ‘It’s in the supercomputer in the former World Government offices.’
‘Shit.’ Jenny ran a hand through her hair. ‘That place is crawling with armed military. We won’t even get close without being detected.’ She looked around. ‘So why isn’t the life support affected down here?’
‘We have independent control over our power supply, to protect the work they used to do here, I guess. But the World Government master computer controls the neighbourhoods. The buildings the factions have taken over run off a different feed, but could also be affected by Drake’s virus. That’s why Marcus knew nothing about the life support issue.’
‘So what do we do now?’ said Olsen.
‘If we’re to have any chance of disrupting the virus,’ said Hayes, ‘we must access the lower levels in WG, where the supercomputer is. I could get to the virus from there.’
‘What about remotely?’
‘I’ve tried. That’s why I took so long back there. A strong force field surrounding the offices is preventing me from seeing or manipulating anything.’
‘But you can access your own power supply,’ said Jenny, ‘and that’s being controlled by the big computer or here?’
‘We have the code for our facility. The computer runs it but we control it from here. Once we get the same for the general supply, I can get in. Until then, I can’t do anything.’
‘We need to give these people back their lives,’ said Jenny.
‘So, we’re helping the underground movement now?’ said Robinson.
‘Yes,’ said Hayes. ‘We can’t let innocent people die. And being a medic plus what you’ve been through, I would have thought you’d understand that more than any of us.’
Robinson clenched his jaw and nodded.
‘What about other facilities, closer to DC than we are?’ said Jenny.
Hayes shook her head. ‘I’m the closest IT expert to Washington we’ve got.’
‘Okay, so we know what we have to do,’ said Jenny. ‘When do we get going?’
‘Who said you were invited?’ said Robinson. Olsen put a hand on his shoulder.
‘Of course I’m going. How many of you have been inside the World Government headquarters?’
‘I have,’ said Hayes. ‘But I’m going to need Isobel’s help.’
‘Well now you have two who’ve been inside,’ Jenny said to Robinson. ‘I used to work for the bastards who ruined this world and Bill Taggart has been there many times. He has described to me the layout of the lower levels.’
Robinson was about to say something else, but Olsen silenced him with a look.
‘Can you convince Isobel to help us?’ said Olsen.
‘I’ll try. But not without me.’
‘Blackmail won’t work, insurgent,’ said Robinson.
‘I’m no insurgent, deserter,’ said Jenny. The veins bulged in Robinson’s neck.
‘Enough,’ said Olsen. He spoke to Jenny. ‘You can come with us if Isobel does. That’s the deal. Will she agree to it?’
‘She will, and I’ll use the people she cares about to get her there.’
27
Albert, Isobel and Sofia arrived back in Waverley with just an hour of curfew remaining. The two guards at the gate were more animated than usual. When one of them grabbed a woman’s grocery bag and emptied the contents on the ground, Albert pushed Isobel and Sofia past the commotion before the second guard noticed.
He’d often dreamt about the residents just overpowering the guards. Two wouldn’t be that difficult to take down, but it would bring a whole world of trouble to Waverley if the Kings detected any resistance. He’d heard of residents in rebellious neighbourhoods being shot dead in broad daylight, or found hanging from rafters in ransacked homes.
Albert froze at the bottom of the steps to the tavern and stared at the door. Isobel appeared like a ghost beside him causing his skin to prickle with fear. Something wasn’t right.
‘They’re anxious inside,’ said Isobel.
‘What about?’
‘I don’t know.’
Albert couldn’t handle any more bad news. He half-contemplated walking to Sal’s and sleeping on her living-room sofa among the engine parts and the smell of oil.
Sofia marched up the stairs. Her fingers had barely grazed the handle when the door swung open.
‘There you are,’ said an edgy Sal. ‘Get inside, quickly.’
Albert’s heart thrummed in his chest. ‘Where are the boys, Sal? Are they okay?’
‘They’re fine,’ she said, gesturing to one of the round tables. Ben sat in one chair with his arms folded. Kevin sat opposite him, his head dipped and his eyes red and puffy, as if he’d been crying.
Sofia hurried over to the loud Italians and spoke to them in a hushed tone.
‘What’s going on, Sal?’ said Albert.
Sal took a quick breath. ‘Marcus was just here. He roughed up a few of the Italians.’
Albert noticed the cuts on their faces, the bloody noses. Sofia dropped to her knees, and helped others to tear a bedsheet into long strips. She tied a length of fabric around a piece of wood pressed to one of the men’s forearms. It looked like his arm had been broken.
Anger replaced Albert’s fear. ‘What the hell did that scum want?’
‘I think the boy should explain.’ Sal folded her arms and nodded at Kevin.
Kevin looked up, fresh tears spilling from his eyes. ‘Marcus says you have until Friday to pay back the stolen money and give him a list of at least five troublemakers, otherwise he will kill people, starting with me.’ He visibly shook.
Sofia gasped at the back of the room.
‘That’s two days,’ said Albert. He could recover the money from his back yard and return it to Marcus, but Albert doubted it was still there.
His gaze met Kevin’s. ‘Are you all right? Did he hurt you?’
Kevin shook his head, his eyes downcast. He ran a sleeve across his face. ‘I’m sorry, Granddad. I’ll meet him, I’ll sort this out. I’ll—’
‘Don’t you dare tell that scum anything,’ said Ben.
Kevin buried his face in his hands and sobbed. Albert hadn’t heard him cry this much since his father died.
‘See? That’s what you get when you run with trouble.’ Ben leaned in. ‘They don’t give a shit about you, Kevin. There are a hundred others waiting to take your place. You’re expendable.’
‘That’s enough, Ben,’ said Albert. ‘I think Kevin understands all of that.’
‘I’m done with them. I swear.’ Kevin lifted his head. His eyes brightened. ‘I’ll just tell Marcus that I can’t find anyone. What if I put Pete’s name on the list? He’s always looking for free drink, never bothered to help.’
‘I won’t have you sacrificing people for that murdering loon or the Agostinis. Do you hear me? That makes us no better than them.’ He turned to Sal and ran his hand over his mouth. ‘Waverley is no better than a damn prison camp. I’m not sure how much more I can take.’
‘We’ll deal with Marcus,’ said Sal. ‘We always do. But if we’re to make changes around here, I can’t think of a better time. Let’s not waste it by wallowing in self-pity.’ She lowered her voice. ‘I hope you have some good news from the Fortress?’
‘Maybe,’ said Albert. He filled her in on the electrified fence, the hologram, meeting Olsen, Robinson and Hayes. ‘We left Jenny there to thrash out the details. I won’t know if they are willing or able to help until I speak with her tomorrow.’
Sal nodded. ‘Well, that still leaves us tomorrow and most of Friday to meet Marcus’ demands. No problem.’
‘We’re dead either way, Sal. If Marcus doesn’t kill us, the lack of air will. The life support is our main priority now.’ He patted her shoulder. ‘You and Isobel had better get on home now. Curfew is approaching.’
Sal nodded. ‘Probably best. I’ll se
e you bright and early, old man.’
☼
Albert stared after Sal and Isobel long after they’d left. Several injured Italians moaned in a corner of the room while Kevin’s sniffles at the table lessened. His thoughts drifted to the problem with the life support. The more he pondered it, the more sure he was that the issue didn’t stem from anything the Kings had done. For a start, the Agostini family—using Marcus—would have used life support as a weapon to control Waverley far earlier than six years into their oppression. The life support was a complex system and not remotely in the same league as the beat-up generators. If the criminals really were the forgotten people of society—never educated, never given the opportunity to advance in life—then they wouldn’t possess the IT skills to mastermind such a takedown.
But they’d been clever, forced the returned Indigenes to work for them, even the empaths, who were more trained than the humans working for the factions. The criminals were self-taught, ruthless, egotistical, dangerous, and worst of all, in control.
Albert shrugged out of his coat and draped it over the back of one chair. He walked over to Kevin and ruffled the sixteen-year-old’s hair. Kevin shifted and wrapped his arms around Albert’s waist. Albert pulled him close, hoping to ease some of his sorrow. They needed to work together to defeat Marcus and to give the people of Waverley any chance of surviving this mess. And they would not do it by giving in to Marcus’ demands.
Albert let go, gave Ben’s shoulder a quick squeeze and climbed the stairs with a spring in his step that had been missing for some time. They may not have a solution, but the problem with the life support had brought the residents of Waverley together. Before, the four Compounds interacted only if someone needed something specific. Now they cared about what happened to each other. They had moved on from existing to living.
As Albert crawled into bed, he hoped the newfound connection with Jenny and Greyson would not be a waste of time.
28
Albert pushed away the bedclothes. He was still dressed, and his heavy boots weighed down his ankles. He had been so tired last night he could have slept for a week, but he’d woken after an hour and spent the rest of the night tossing and turning. What if Olsen and Jenny hadn’t reached an agreement? Where did that leave Waverley? How would they deal with Marcus and this chilling new threat to kill residents unless he got his list of troublemakers?
Albert sat on the bed. His body ached, and his head pounded. He couldn’t pretend for much longer that everything would be okay.
Noise from below dragged him out of bed and downstairs where he found Ben raking a brush over the flagstone floor.
‘What time is it?’ said Albert.
‘A little after nine.’
‘Why didn’t you call me?’
Ben glanced up at him. ‘I thought you could do with the sleep.’
‘I guess some would have been nice.’ Albert stretched his shoulders and stepped over a few prone bodies on the floor to get to the bar. The swollen Italian numbers meant their group was no longer contained at the back of the room. The sleeping arrangements were far from ideal; close to thirty people were jammed into whatever floor space they could find, both downstairs and now in one of the spare rooms upstairs. With so little air to share, the place had a thick, cloying atmosphere.
He grabbed a mug from behind the bar. ‘Did Isobel and Sal drop by yet?’
Ben shook his head. He put away the sweeping brush behind the bar, trying to avoid waking the sleeping bodies. ‘Smells like old socks in here.’
‘Yes, I suppose it does,’ said Albert with a smile. ‘Why don’t you get Isobel and Sal? You look like you could do with some fresh air.’ The term had lost its meaning over the years. Now it was more about giving space to people.
‘Yeah, I think I will,’ said Ben.
‘Be careful, son. Stay off the main streets.’ Albert squeezed Ben’s shoulder. Curfew had not yet been lifted but he trusted Ben to know the Kings’ routine and avoid the rooftop guns.
Albert made tea in the kitchen using hot water and a sprinkle of dried tea leaves. He changed into fresh clothes and tidied the accessible downstairs parts of the tavern. As crazy as things were, the tavern was still open for business; although the only person who bothered to show up was Old Pete. His best customer was quieter than usual, and that only made Albert suspicious. For some time he’d wondered how deep Pete’s involvement with Marcus went. Considering the recent attention on his tavern, Albert guessed pretty deep.
The Italians stirred. Albert yawned and sat in one chair, brush in hand, and nodded off.
A firm hand on his shoulder jolted him awake. Sal stood over him.
‘Wake up, old man. We need you.’
‘What is it? Is everything okay?’ His head swam in a fog of confusion. ‘Where’s Ben and Isobel?’
‘Outside. Come on. Jenny has some news for us.’
Albert looked around. The Italians stood, expectant. Old Pete had gone. He retrieved his coat from the back of the chair and put it on. He pressed his gel mask over his mouth and followed Sal outside to where an expressionless Isobel and an eager Ben waited.
‘We should get going,’ said Isobel. ‘Sal got a message from one of the courier boys she trusts. Jenny is waiting for us at the market.’
Albert nodded at Ben. ‘Inside now.’
‘But I can help, Albert. Please.’
‘I need you to keep an eye on Kevin, make sure he doesn’t sneak off anywhere.’
‘No! I’m not his damn babysitter. I’m sixteen and not a kid. Stop treating me like one. This involves me as much as you.’
Albert gripped Ben’s face with one hand. ‘When the time comes, I’ll ask for your help. But for now, don’t argue with me. You, Kevin and this tavern are all I have left in this world.’
Ben hesitated a moment, then jerked away and slammed the door as he went inside.
Sal smiled at him. ‘Is that all you have in this world, Albert?’
Albert followed Isobel towards Waverley’s exit. ‘Don’t start with me, woman. I’m never getting rid of you.’
☼
They timed their arrival at the black market so it wouldn’t coincide with the Kings’ vehicle patrols. Albert, Sal and Isobel marched down the side of the market to the area with the storage unit. Greyson waited for them outside. When they got closer, he opened the unit door and ushered them inside. A blast of crisp, cold air hit Albert and he sneezed.
‘The associates aren’t due to deliver their fresh stock for another hour, so make good use of your time,’ said Greyson. ‘I’ll knock on the door when time’s up, or if something happens.’
The door shut and the automatic lights flickered on.
The room temperature felt low, almost freezing. Replicated stock still spoiled like the real thing and the storage rooms were a necessity. Albert pulled his coat around him tighter.
Jenny emerged from behind a group of boxes stacked so high they plunged sections of the room into eerie shadow.
‘They’re here,’ she said to someone unseen.
Two people stepped out, dressed in dark clothing: thick brown-suede overcoats, beanie hats and scarves covering their mouths.
Sal muffled a laugh when Olsen and Hayes pulled the scarves off their faces. ‘Is this the first time you’ve been outside since you went underground?’
‘Are we that obvious?’ said Olsen, shivering.
‘Just a bit.’ Sal’s laugh faded. ‘Do you see anyone else wearing such heavy coats or scarves on their faces? You stick out too much. You look like something out of the comic stories Ben keeps telling me about.’
‘Old habits, I guess.’ Olsen unbuttoned his overcoat but kept it on. ‘It was colder the last time we were up top.’
‘So, I assume there’s good news?’ said Albert.
‘Yes and no,’ said Hayes. ‘We deciphered the message and it’s as I suspected. It’s a virus. It has nothing to do with the criminals.’
Albert sighed. ‘And the bad news?�
��
‘The virus was uploaded to the main computer at the World Government offices some time ago.’
‘In DC?’
‘Last time I checked there was only one. To disable the virus command, I’ll need access to their supercomputer. But it must be today. Time isn’t on our side here. You should know the World Government offices are heavily guarded.’
‘I don’t see we have a choice,’ said Albert. ‘What’s the plan?’
‘You should know it’s risky to go there,’ said Jenny. ‘We may not even get inside. The life support is on a time delay. I can probably find old schematics that show us the layout of the building, but it will take time.’
Albert sighed. ‘Waverley has even less time now. Marcus wants a list of five names. Troublemakers, he calls them. And he’s threatening to kill people at random if we don’t comply.’
Jenny looked concerned. ‘How much time do you have?’
‘Two days. And I’m sure his killing will go beyond any petty list we give him. Someone or something is putting him under pressure, and he’s taking it out on us. This is unusual, even for him.’
‘Well, that’s decided, then,’ Jenny said to Olsen. ‘We can’t delay any longer.’ She turned to Isobel. ‘Will you come with us?’
‘I gave my word to Olsen I would help.’
Jenny nodded at Albert. ‘And I’d like you to come too.’
‘What would you need with an old man like me?’
‘I need assurances that Isobel will help if things don’t go according to plan. With you along, she may be more cooperative.’
‘Do not use him as a pawn,’ said Isobel. ‘If I say my word is good then my word is good.’
Jenny smiled at her. ‘Don’t take offence, Isobel. You need to see it from my viewpoint. The underground movement has tried and failed for years to liberate the people on Earth. They’ve gone from living in one prison during World Government times to another controlled by the criminal factions. But for all our efforts to combat what’s happening, the return of the devolved Indigenes has severely hampered our operation. This isn’t the first time we’ve tried to get inside the World Government headquarters. The last Indigene we brought promised to help right the wrongs done to this world. But he betrayed us, sided with one faction, and we lost good people. It works in your favour that Bill Taggart and Stephen were instrumental in your return, but they’re taking a leap of faith with you. As am I. I have trust issues and I don’t trust you. Not yet, anyway. So until you prove yourself otherwise, I won’t risk any more lives. You seem to respect Albert and Ben, but I’m still unsure how much help you will give us.’
