by Eliza Green
Sal’s strong hand gripped Ben’s shoulder. ‘Give the lad a moment longer to mourn his grandfather and brother.’
Jenny looked around her. ‘I don’t mean to sound callous but more factions will be here shortly. We don’t have time to stand around.’ She looked at Ben. ‘I’m sorry. We can’t wait any longer. We must bury them quickly to prevent disease from spreading. There won’t be time for a long goodbye.’
Ben stepped away from the three women intent on controlling his life. He knelt down beside Kevin’s body and peeled back the sheet. Kevin’s eyes were closed, his face drained of blood. His skin was ice-cold. ‘You weren’t the best brother in the world, but you were the only one I had. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.’
He pulled back the sheet that covered Albert and kissed his cold forehead. A lump caught in his throat. He’d said all he wanted to say to Albert last night.
He took a few deep breaths and covered their faces. Then he stood up.
This was it. He would never see them again. He was on his own once more. Except this time, nobody had abandoned him. In his beat-up world, he’d found a family in Sal and Isobel.
He nodded at Jenny. ‘I’m ready.’
☼
The residents—two to each body—hoisted the dead on their shoulders and carried them to the grounds of the old school. Ben kept his distance and stopped just short of the school walls. Several pits had hastily been dug, barely deep enough to cover the dead. It seemed fitting that Albert would remain in the neighbourhood he’d fought so hard to protect.
An hour later, when the last of the dead had been buried, Ben stood over the mound with the remains of his family. He thought of how he could honour them. Something came to mind and he smiled.
‘What’s that smile for?’ said Sal.
‘I was thinking about opening up the tavern.’
‘On a normal day, I would tend to agree. But our priority is to protect this place.’
Ben didn’t want to give up on the idea. ‘I mean, let’s throw a party, drink the place dry. Give all the alcohol away. I hate how restricted our lives have been. Let everyone feel like they’re not in the middle of a warzone. Just for a day.’
Sal thought about it, then nodded. ‘I think your grandfather would approve. But how about we wait until we’ve got a handle on our situation? Let’s call it our victory party.’
Ben nodded, just as a group of men ran up to the school. ‘The next wave is here and they’re armed and aggressive. We’ll need everyone at the gate.’
‘There aren’t enough canisters to go around,’ said Jenny to the men. ‘Tell the snipers to stay indoors, and the spotters to go high. We’ll need eyes on the streets, beyond the gate. We’ll use hand signals to communicate with each other.’
Sal squeezed Ben’s shoulder. ‘Let’s go protect our home.’
37
Two weeks had passed since Operation Liberate had been put into action to free the residents from the neighbourhoods. The criminal factions of New York, ousted from their mansions by failing life support, had hit the neighbourhoods hard. The worst attack had happened just after Albert and Kevin had been buried. The next had come during the night.
Casualties were many on both sides, but the barricaded gate and perimeter wall had held firm. The criminals had attempted and failed to scale the walls. Many had fallen to their deaths between the outer and inner wall. The attack waves had dwindled to nothing as the criminals ran out of oxygen and were forced to find refuge outside the neighbourhoods.
After retrieving the fallen, Jenny had ordered the underground movement to occupy the old Deighton Mansion. But members of the Agostini family had returned, and another battle raged for occupation. With the Indigenes’ help, she and the movement had secured the site.
Those Indigenes who’d requested it were given freedom in New York where the criminals no longer ruled, in an area the movement had named the Inclusion Zone. With the Indigenes’ help they would secure more safe zones and free more people.
Jenny sat alone in the Agostini mansion, at the same consoles the Indigenes had been forced to manage under criminal rule. The factions in other neighbourhoods had abandoned their strongholds and the Indigenes they’d imprisoned. She rested her DPad on top of one console and listened again to the message that Hayes had delivered across all communication devices in the last hour.
‘If you are receiving this message, we have added your area to the Inclusion Zone. We have rounded up the criminal factions. They are no longer a threat. The Indigenes in your area helped to orchestrate your rescue, so please allow them the freedom to live as they wish.
‘In exchange for your cooperation, the skilled workers have agreed to train people in your neighbourhoods. In time, we will reopen the factories, build viable businesses and tear down the walls that surround each neighbourhood. You will be granted the same freedom as the Indigenes. There will be no hierarchy. We will set up new democratic societies and get industry up and running. We need your help to liberate this planet once again.’
Greyson appeared at the door, his arms folded.
Jenny grabbed her DPad and went to him. She smiled, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him on the lips.
‘I think it’s going to work out, Grey. That’s the eleventh city we’ve been able to add to the zone. We are taking back control.’
Grey gave her a smile that made her go weak at the knees. He kissed her again. ‘It’s a good start, but there’s more to do. We need to liberate more than one city at a time. Hit them quickly before the factions can regroup.’
Jenny stood back and frowned at him. ‘We’ve waited eight years to get to this point. You’re not even a little bit happy?’
Grey grabbed her free hand and kissed the top of it. ‘Of course I am. I’m just finding it difficult to let go of my anxiety. It’s one small battle won, but when will this war be over?’
Jenny had wondered the same thing. She activated the DPad and connected an amplifier to the side. ‘It’s almost midday. Do you want to stay?’
Grey nodded and smiled. They sat down together and Jenny propped the DPad up against the console once more.
The screen flickered to life, showing a grainy image. It was the best they could hope for, given the distance between Earth and Exilon 5. A familiar face appeared on screen. She couldn’t believe it had been six months since she’d last seen him.
‘You’re looking a little greyer than the last time I saw you,’ said Jenny, smiling. ‘A little older, too. Any wiser?’
Bill Taggart smiled back. ‘I can always rely on you to tell it to me straight.’
‘And Laura? Still keeping you on your toes?’
‘Of course.’ His gaze shifted. ‘Good to see you, Grey.’
‘You too, Bill.’
‘That’s Commander Taggart to you.’
Grey smiled. ‘Simon Shaw always said you were a cocky son of a bitch back in the ITF days. I see nothing’s changed.’
The banter between the pair was warm and familiar. They had collaborated following the collapse of the World Government. Now Bill commanded a movement similar to Greyson’s, except he also operated in full view of the world, as Director of the ITF on Exilon 5.
‘How’s everything there?’ said Jenny.
‘I wish I had better news.’
‘I’m sorry we haven’t been in touch before now. We had to stabilise things here first. It’s taken that long for the last of the lower-level criminals to come out of hiding. The ones at the top may have escaped. It’s impossible to say without a formal headcount.’
‘What about the neighbourhoods?’ said Bill.
‘Once we removed the Indigenes’ chips, they could communicate with each other and things moved a lot quicker,’ said Jenny. ‘They gathered up as many communication devices and weapons as possible. They coordinated their movements between the neighbourhoods. Some were killed before they got there, but others picked up the slack. If it wasn’t for their cooperation, the plan may
have been delayed by several weeks. And who knows what would have happened? The factions were already making their presence felt on the streets. Many more could have died.’
Greyson cut in. ‘We sent word to the medical facility in Harvard and they switched off the life support to the criminal strongholds. As expected, a procession of land vehicles turned up at the neighbourhoods. Many were prepared and had barricaded their entrances with whatever they could. For some it was too late, but most were ready, thanks to the warning we sent out on the communication devices.’
‘It turns out we had a tech expert in the mansion after all,’ said Jenny. ‘Johan helped us to configure the devices so the neighbourhoods would all operate on the same frequency.’
‘We’re two weeks in,’ said Grey. ‘We took refugees in the tunnels, armed the neighbourhoods with whatever weapons we could find. The Indigenes found the rest in storage facilities at the strongholds. The lack of oxygen forced the factions from their buildings. After, they used up whatever oxygen canisters they had. When the last were weakened enough, we picked them up. Most we found dead on the streets. We can’t account for the higher-level criminals, as we said.’
Bill stroked his chin. ‘Well at least that’s one problem on its way to being sorted. What about the boy?’
Jenny shook her head. ‘He’s withdrawn into himself. Sal has done everything she can, but he won’t listen to anyone. He’s terrified of Marcus returning, making good on his promise. Is there anything you can do?’
Bill shook his head. ‘I can’t agree to Marcus’ demands. He’s a criminal. There’s no way I can let him leave Earth.’
‘I understand that, Bill, but Marcus is unstable. Who knows what he will do?’
‘I’m more interested in why he even wants immunity.’ Bill combed his fingers through his short salt-and-pepper hair. ‘The criminal strongholds have been disbanded.’
‘It’s my guess he’s afraid of Gaetano Agostini,’ said Jenny. ‘His betrayal of Gaetano surely makes him a marked man.’
‘And what about the skilled workers?’
‘They’ve come out of hiding and have agreed to teach the neighbourhoods useful skills to survive this mess for when things die down. They will work on rebuilding industries here. We’re putting a makeshift government in place. Word is being sent out globally of our success here. We hope it can be replicated in other regions.’
‘Is the spacecraft up and running yet?’ said Bill.
‘In a couple of weeks,’ said Greyson.
Bill nodded. ‘Good. I’ve convinced the ITF we left behind good soldiers on Earth. I’m sending a passenger ship. A one-time deal, you understand. Whoever wishes to return to Exilon 5 must be on it. Spread the word throughout the inclusion zones. But make sure Ben Watson is on that ship. Stephen’s orders. He needs our protection, now more than ever. That’s the least I can do for him. I still hate myself for how I used him all those years ago.’
‘Are you sure Exilon 5 is safe to return to?’ said Jenny.
‘Not by a long shot. But it’s better than Earth right now. Ben needs to be far away from Marcus. And even if Marcus is dead, Ben should come home. He should never have been forced to leave Exilon 5. He needs some stability in his life. I owe him that much.’
‘I’ll make sure he’s on the ship,’ said Jenny.
38
One month later
Ben had packed a few clothes and some photos into Albert’s old grey satchel. He also took two items belonging to Albert and Kevin: a pack of playing cards Kevin had hidden under his bed and Albert’s wristwatch. They would stay with him wherever he went.
While he packed, of one thing he was certain: Earth was not his home.
Ben sensed someone close by as he waited outside Waverley docking station.
He sighed and turned around. ‘When I said I was fine coming alone, I meant it.’
Isobel and Sal smiled at each other.
‘What you say and what we do are two entirely different things,’ said Sal.
‘We wouldn’t miss this for the world,’ said Isobel.
‘Are you saying you’re glad I’m going?’
‘No, silly child,’ said Sal. ‘You’re finally going home.’
Ben frowned at Sal, one hand holding the satchel strap. ‘Please reconsider and come with me.’
Sal grabbed his other hand. ‘This is my home, Ben. And for as long as Albert and I have known you, you’ve been trying to get back to yours.’
‘Isobel? What’s your excuse?’ He had tried to convince her all morning to come back with him.
‘This was always my home. I belong here more than I do there. I wouldn’t have gone through everything I did just to give up now.’
He hugged Sal. ‘I don’t want to leave you alone.’
Sal hugged him tighter. ‘I’m not alone. I have all of Waverley looking out for me.’
A man dressed in military uniform approached; Ben recognised him from Waverley. The residents controlled the docking stations in New York now. What remained of the military had sworn allegiance to the new government under the custodial control of the underground movement.
‘It’s time to go, Ben,’ said the man.
Ben nodded and turned to say goodbye to Isobel. She pulled something out of her pocket.
‘I almost forgot. Jenny asked me to give you this.’
She handed him an item wrapped in a handkerchief. He unfolded the cream-coloured linen and stared at the solid silver compass he’d used to buy Isobel at the auction in Waverley. It belonged to an old childhood friend. He wondered if he would get the opportunity to return it, even after all these years.
Ben hugged her tight.
Thank you, Ben. I’ll never forget your bravery or your friendship.
He pulled away, as her words tickled him. ‘I’m still not used to that, you know.’ She’d been talking to him like that for a week now; a new way of communicating for humans, but an old one for Indigenes.
He dropped the compass in his bag and followed the man inside the docking station. They walked through and out the other side. The spacecraft sat over a large magnetised block, accessible by a set of stairs. Ben walked as far as the bottom step and waited in the cool air with the other passengers.
Something brushed against his cheek, warm like a kiss.
Everything around him brightened for a moment.
While the others squinted, he shielded his eyes and looked up at a sliver of light as it pushed its way through the clouds, briefly illuminating their dark world. It was the most significant break in the clouds that he’d seen since coming to Earth.
The shaft of light vanished, and the warmth faded.
The other passengers chatted, while Ben continued to stare up at the sky.
He whispered. ‘Albert.’
Continue the story with GENESIS TRADE. Genesis Pact’s story retold shines a light on both Marcus’ murky present and Isobel’s mysterious past.
CLICK HERE TO GET IT ON SMASHWORDS
Grab a Free Book
Sign up for Eliza’s newsletter and get Genesis, a teaser story set before Genesis Code. Click here to get started.
Have you read all of Eliza’s books?
CLICK HERE for a complete list of Eliza Green’s books.
Word from the Author
Hey! Thanks for reading Genesis Pact, the follow up to Genesis War. There was an unintentional three year gap between these stories. Genesis War (formerly Crimson Dawn) was published in 2014 and I had completed the story in 2015 but then my Feeder series took over. In March 2016, I quit my day job to write full time and started to get organised. So if you’ve stuck with the series right from the beginning, thank you for your patience and perseverance. I assure you I don’t write and publish as slowly as George R.R. Martin does!
If you’re wondering where Stephen and Anton are, you can catch a bit more of them in the next book in this series: Genesis Trade. Genesis Variant, book 6 in this series, is coming in 2019. I can’t wait to share it with
you.
I recently rebranded this entire series, so some thanks will be for the earlier version, and some for the shiny new one. Thank you to some truly fabulous people. I collaborate with some really awesome creative professionals who do stellar work. Andrew Lowe and Sally Vince, my editors; the team from Deranged Doctor Design for this fabulous new cover; Kate Tilton, my assistant; my beta readers, Nigel and Kathryn; my awesome launch team.
I love getting reviews so if you enjoyed this book, I would appreciate it if you’d post a short one liner where you bought it. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
About the Author
Eliza Green tried her hand at fashion designing, massage, painting, and even ghost hunting, before finding her love of writing. She often wonders if her desire to change the ending of a particular glittery vampire story steered her in that direction (it did). After earning her degree in marketing, Eliza went on to work in everything but marketing, but swears she uses it in everyday life, or so she tells her bank manager.
Born and raised in Dublin, Ireland, she lives there with her sci-fi loving, evil genius best friend. When not working on her next amazing science fiction adventure, you can find her reading, indulging in new food at an amazing restaurant or simply singing along to something with a half decent beat.
