by Eliza Green
Okay, now he was losing it.
The dream room, picked clean of any identifiable markers, continued to taunt him. He summoned the image once more, in an attempt to identify its location again. Frustration gnawed at his sanity.
Maybe he should open up his mind the next time he had the dream. If he were relaxed, perhaps he might see something new in the room. The dreams had a haunting quality to them, as though he shared a connection with them.
Stephen turned onto his side and contemplated some of the more ridiculous non-scientific explanations. Were the dreams foretelling his future, warning him about something he could alter? He closed his eyes and tried to squeeze more information from the images. A burst of pain spread through his head.
Stephen huffed out a breath and sat up. This was a waste of time. He had to change tack. Finding a practical way to rescue Anton was all that mattered now. He couldn’t put off the discussion any longer. It was time to tell the elders and Leon exactly what had happened on Earth. They’d know what to do.
Stephen got to his feet and walked to the door. His hand grazed the handle just as a strange energy shifted inside him. It wasn’t for the first time, either. He’d felt it on board the ship, but the feeling had been more subtle back then.
He jerked the door open to find Pierre on the other side, his fist raised as if he’d been about to knock.
In the elder’s presence, the energy inside him stirred again.
☼
Stephen followed a fast-moving Pierre through the rough hewn tunnels of the district. His bare feet glided over the uneven ground. They arrived at Council Chambers to find Elise and Leon waiting for them inside. He followed Pierre into the soundproofed chamber space that in the past had given him peace and quiet. A large bookcase dividing the room contained books about Indigene history, and more interesting ones from the surface about human history. Tucked behind the bookshelf, a single mattress lay on the floor. Pierre often used the space when he needed to think; sometimes he slept there.
The nervous energy from the others fuelled Stephen’s growing anxiety. Only Leon, Pierre and Elise had been present when they’d made the decision for Stephen and Anton to travel to Earth. The representatives—included on all matters of importance—had not been told of their plans. Stephen recounted details of his difficult journey for the trio. He sensed Leon’s eagerness to ask about Anton, but to his relief, Leon didn’t interrupt him.
As he told his story—the fight to get out of the docking station, the hijacked space craft, his encounter with Bill and Laura—the events leading to Anton’s demise became clear to the others. Stephen recounted the information from Laura about the Indigene’s creation, the genetic experiments to create their race and the World Government’s earliest plans to destroy them that correlated with the explosions thirty years earlier. Pierre nodded as if this was expected news, but Elise looked worried. Stephen didn’t blame her.
Leon’s mood, already dark and expectant, didn’t change when Stephen mentioned Anton’s capture. Stephen made sure to highlight Anton’s role in helping him to escape.
If it hadn’t been for him, I wouldn’t even be here, said Stephen telepathically. His head pounded.
It’s obvious what we need to do, said Leon. We must devise a rescue plan.
Pierre agreed. Elise was quieter than usual.
Their behaviour is predictable, Elise, said Pierre. This is a good thing. He turned to Stephen. Have you any idea where they’ve taken Anton?
No, but the humans I made contact with have promised to investigate his whereabouts. The pain in his head grew; Stephen switched to his voice. ‘I gave Bill Taggart a communication stone so we can keep in touch.’
Pierre’s shoulders relaxed; Stephen sensed the elder’s desire to fight lessen.
The same could not be said for Elise. ‘Was that wise?’ she said. ‘We have no guarantee they’ll cooperate. Their race is untrustworthy. They might be playing you.’
‘I trust them, Elise,’ said Stephen.
Pierre turned to his wife. ‘So do I. And for a while, I thought you did too.’
‘That was before Anton was captured.’ She glared at Stephen. ‘Why did you give them a stone? It will lead them straight to us if they figure out how to use it properly.’
A force burrowed deep into Stephen’s mind. He resisted Elise’s attempts to access his private thoughts. ‘Stop! If you want to know something, then ask me. Don’t pry.’
Elise backed off. ‘I’m sorry. It’s what I do.’
He shook off the lingering effects of her skill. ‘I had no option but to trust them. They know as much about us as we do. We need them as allies. We must gather as much information about their government’s next move. Bill and Laura took a huge risk by making contact with me.’
The intensity of Elise’s gaze didn’t lessen, forcing Stephen to look elsewhere. He erected a new barrier in his mind.
‘What was it like, their planet called Earth?’ said Pierre.
‘Strange, oppressive, overcrowded. Other than the constructions above ground, different to this planet. The humans think of Exilon 5 as their new home. They need it to ensure their survival. The air on Earth has changed so much that they require masks and oxygen to breathe. It’s what’s driving their ambitions to relocate here. I’m concerned they’ll do just about anything to get what they want.’
‘Desperation leads us to do funny things,’ said Elise.
Pierre placed a hand on his wife’s shoulder. She shrugged it off. ‘What about co-existence? Do you think there’s a possibility this could all end peacefully?’
‘It’s too early to tell.’ Stephen sighed. ‘Officially, we don’t exist, and their government hasn’t told the rest of the population about us. My sense is they have no desire to educate them; I’m sure we would be difficult to explain. It would disrupt their society too much.’
Leon stepped forward, his pain evident. ‘How many of them did you encounter? Was my son hurt in the struggle?’
‘Not many and no, he wasn’t hurt. I don’t think they’ll harm him.’ Truth was Stephen had no idea if Anton was alive or dead—or what the humans might do to him.
Seeing Leon’s brighter expression released some of his guilt. He continued, ‘Hundreds of thousands of humans litter their streets, and even more cross the land in their automated vehicles; far more than I had expected.’
‘What makes you so sure you can trust the pair you spoke to?’ said Elise.
Stephen reinforced the barrier in his mind. He felt the elder probing for a weak point. ‘I trust them as I trusted the child, Ben Watson. It’s a feeling, a sense that there’s more depth to some of these humans.’
Elise turned away from the group. ‘I never should have listened to you, Pierre—or to her for that matter. Just look at the trouble we’re in now.’
‘Elise, please,’ said Pierre. ‘We had no choice. I trusted my instincts when we met with Isla. I thought you did too.’
Elise turned back, her lips pinched in disagreement.
Isla? Was that the name Bill Taggart had mentioned? Stephen’s head throbbed too much now. He would ask Pierre about it later.
Pierre asked, ‘Is it possible the two humans could be wrong about what they’ve found?’
‘A possibility,’ said Stephen. ‘But I didn’t sense any deception. They believed the story. Bill Taggart appeared genuinely surprised at the revelation.’
Leon frowned at the elder. ‘Are you suggesting they made it all up?’
‘Not them, exactly,’ said Pierre. ‘But what if their government knew we were coming and planted the story with the two humans? Was it coincidence that Anton was discovered but not Stephen? They had two weeks to prepare for Stephen and Anton’s arrival. We’ve no idea how long they knew about Anton’s false identity.’
‘So you think they hoped that Stephen would return and spread the rumour? For what reason?’
‘To create mass panic? To set us up somehow?’ Pierre sighed. He looked every day
of his one hundred and twenty years. ‘It’s just a theory. The stories may be true but I was warned something like this might happen, and not to trust everything we hear. We need to consider all possibilities.’
‘Warned by whom? By that woman?’ said Elise.
Pierre shook his head. ‘It’s of no concern. Let’s focus on the matters at hand.’
Stephen sensed there was more to this story.
What now? Do we tell the representatives? asked Leon. A shiver down Stephen’s back issued a warning. That was how fear from others emitted through the link of telepathy.
I don’t know, said Pierre. What exactly would it achieve?
‘Don’t tell them anything,’ suggested Stephen. ‘The last thing we need is to be at each other’s throats. Our best chance is to stick together—to work together.’
‘I agree,’ said Leon. ‘We shouldn’t tell them until we can validate the story. We need to focus our efforts on a rescue attempt.’
‘And Anton?’ Elise asked. ‘They’re going to notice his absence soon.’
‘She’s right,’ said Stephen. ‘We need to tell them something.’
‘Then we say he died in a hunting accident,’ said Pierre.
Leon scoffed. ‘They’ll find that hard to believe that lie. He’s a skilled hunter.’
I don’t care what they believe. I am an elder, and what I say goes.
Do you have any better suggestions, Leon? asked Elise.
Leon shook his head and looked away.
Then that is the story. It’s all we can say right now.
3
Elise excused herself when Pierre, Leon and Stephen began to discuss a rescue plan. She headed to the private dwelling she shared with Pierre in the eastern section of District Three. She bounded up the uneven steps to the top of a large circular area containing accommodation set out on three levels, and opened the only door on that level.
Inside she lay down on her thin mattress, stuffed with dried moss, and soft materials the humans had discarded on the surface. The coolness of the stone floor seeped through and chilled her skin. She didn’t mind the refreshing cold, but today it provided her with little comfort. The double room felt too small and too tight. The smooth omicron walls around her shuddered, as though it mirrored the stress she felt. It upset her to learn that Anton had not made it home, but news of the Indigene’s true beginning in life worried her more.
She turned onto her side and faced the wall, sinking into the soft mattress and tucking her arms beneath her. Everything had unravelled the moment she and Pierre had met with that woman, Isla Taggart. She had warned Pierre over her government’s behaviour. Isla hadn’t mentioned details of any experiments, but Stephen had discovered so much more with little effort.
Why had it been so easy for him and not her? She wasn’t sure which frightened her more: that the news was real, or that Pierre believed this potentially fake story. Should Isla ever have been trusted?
Regardless, the Indigenes had two choices: do nothing, or fight back. The latter risked revealing both their secret location and the depth of how far their enhanced abilities went.
She shifted onto her back when her mood grew more sombre. Her stomach rumbled low and long, reminding her of how little she’d eaten since Stephen had arrived home. Someone stopped outside her door. A shadow cast through the narrow gap at the base. It was Pierre; she recognised those ordered thoughts anywhere. She sensed his hesitation. Then the shadow vanished from underneath the door.
Grateful to escape another of his lectures, Elise curled onto her side.
The news of the planted origin story invaded her thoughts once more. Why had the humans captured Anton? What did they want from him?
She shook the bunch of lies from her mind, aimed at driving a wedge between the two races. But her heart thrummed at the feeling there was more to the story. Elise stroked her cool arm, wondering how different her skin would feel if she were human.
The thought shot her upright. She was Indigene, not human. Their race was unique.
Yet something nagged at her.
The Indigenes differed from the ordinary humans too much for the news to be true. New and better skills were emerging in their most recent generation: Stephen’s unmatched speed; Anton’s ability to see inside the humans’ inventions. But what if they really had descended from the human bloodline? How much did the humans already know about their younger generation?
Anton’s capture concerned her. What could his captors learn about his abilities, their history and location? No matter the truth, Anton must resist all attempts to break him. She only wished Pierre had included the other districts in this situation. Maybe they could help.
Elise sighed and leaned against the wall. Her stubborn husband would rather go it alone than to ask anyone for help. She and Pierre may be the most senior of all the elders presiding over other districts, but that did not give him or District Three the right to decide on matters for all.
A different, soothing vibration passed from the wall to her back. She closed her eyes, allowing the steady thrum to calm her erratic thoughts. With her next sigh, the stress melted away.
Sometimes the district—the rock—knew exactly what she needed.
☼
Elise awoke with a start. She licked her dry lips as she looked around her quarters. She didn’t even remember falling asleep. Her unsettled thoughts had woken her.
‘Calm down.’
She twisted her hands to control the erratic moods that had marked these past few weeks. It wasn’t just Anton’s capture that had unsettled her. No, she had another problem.
A change was happening inside her, pushing her abilities beyond that of an empath. Sensing an Indigene’s mood was what empaths did. That and her ability to calm a room when the situation called for it. Seeing and predicting an emotion? Well, that was new.
Without effort, she could now see the trigger that elicited an emotional response in other Indigenes, like a flash of light. She’d tried to speak to Pierre about her evolving skill. But instead of offering her support and compassion, he’d been rational, logical.
Cold.
‘Your overwhelming compassion for others, it clouds your judgement,’ he’d said. ‘You do this. You sacrifice your own well-being for their comfort.’
‘This is different,’ Elise had argued. ‘It feels as if I’m gaining a deeper understanding of how my gift works.’
But Pierre hadn’t been convinced. Nor did he really understand her connection with others’ emotions. He’d always preferred logic and science to feelings. The changes terrified her, because they had nothing to do with compassion. If she relaxed her mind enough, she could sense new neural pathways developing in her brain where they hadn’t existed before.
Somehow, her empathic abilities were changing.
‘Everything can be explained, Elise.’ That was Pierre’s answer to any problem he couldn’t understand.
Maybe he was right. But how could she prove it? Only hard evidence would convince Pierre that her abilities had altered. Her concern doubled as she thought of Anton. If her skills were evolving as a free Indigene, how were his abilities manifesting in captivity?
She touched the smooth, translucent skin on her arm and head that defined her race. After locating to the tunnels from the surface, the Indigenes had experienced their first transformation. Many had lost the physical features that had defined them, the changes occurring because of a genetic mutation in their cells. The Indigenes no longer needed hair to protect them from the sun, or melanin in their skin to act as a barrier against the elements. Their bodies had fully adapted to a light-starved environment. In one of Elise’s stranger dreams, she’d dreamt of having curly hair. But in reality her hair had never grown past stubble. She lost it all shortly after the relocation.
How the Indigenes differed from each other physically was in height and body type. Elise was shorter than Pierre but lean and strong, in contrast to his more muscular appearance. According to their histor
ical records, which dated back ten thousand years, the Indigenes could live to one hundred and ninety years of age. Their cell structure could regenerate and would keep them strong for as long as they lived. Their DNA contained a self-destruct code that would switch off the cell’s ability to regenerate. When they wished to move beyond the physical plain, the code would terminate the cells like an aggressive cancer.
But to the Indigenes, their bodies were just vessels. Through telepathy, they all shared a deeper connection. They believed their souls would be reborn in others of their species. It was what Elise had believed—until she’d heard Stephen’s report from Earth.
How could the Indigenes have begun life in a different way? Was the self-destruct code a human design implanted in their creation? Surely not. Yet, Elise had not witnessed an Indigene death; she only assumed she had. And when she gave it more thought, perhaps all she’d ever done was read about it in one of their history books.
The air in the room grew tight and forced her to her feet. She abandoned the solitude of her private quarters.
Elise grazed her fingers along surface of the tunnels that connected to all areas in the district. A strip of low lighting along the base of the tunnel walls guided each step she took. The floor had a slight uneven tilt, designed to unsettle unwelcome visitors. But the floor posed no difficulty to her. She often walked the tunnels for hours in search of company. The time she spent with others recharged her, unlike Pierre who preferred to be alone. She enjoyed participating in social activities, but lately Elise had been using them as an excuse to understand her changes better.
She tuned in to the conversations around her as she walked. Some Indigenes spoke quickly and quietly, while others spoke telepathically to each other. There was a different sound associated with silent conversations, a medium-pitched tone that calmed her. She focused on the tone and listened to some exchanges, switching off when she heard something private.
