‘I can’t imagine they’ll go without a fight, but it’s in your interests to make sure they don’t. Fatal accidents happen even in our risk-averse world, more frequently than you’d think. There doesn’t need to be a ticking time bomb in your bloodstream for an untimely fatality. Shorthand, if they give Kodi up, she stays alive and so do you. If they don’t, she dies, and you, well… what do you think?’
Kau’s ears drowned with Anton’s threats. He couldn’t speak even if he wanted to.
‘I don’t want to dick around with people unnecessarily. There are millions of lives at risk. I don’t care what you say, or what lies you spin, as long as you don’t tell them anything about Project Epomenzoic.’
But Kau knew the Ghettoites wouldn’t give Kodi up. It wasn’t a possibility, and not just to protect her as a person, but also what she stood for; for Odgerel, freedom, and life beyond the UA. But Anton was right, Kodi’s powers counteracted any second guessing with Mars developments. With Kodi’s capabilities, she could identify the holes the strategists couldn’t; bypass the margins of error, saving millions of lives. The migration to Mars needed to happen; there was no possibility of sustainable, long-term existence without this kind of intervention. Even if the Ghettoites were prepared to battle it out, they couldn’t ask the rest of the world to do the same, and who were they to demand it of them? Whether they liked it or not, the world needed Kodi to guarantee people’s survival; that lives weren’t unnecessarily lost.
But Kau still couldn’t see the Ghetto agreeing to it.
‘Now do you want that drink?’ Anton said, but the drawer had already clunked. Anton poured Kau a healthy measure. The larger-than-life telescope loomed in the background – despite Epomenzoic, he didn’t have Anton down as a stargazer.
If Kodi was such an asset to the UA, and she was, it didn’t make sense for them to kill her. ‘You wouldn’t kill her though, she’s too much of an asset,’ Kau said, relieving the tumbler from Anton’s desk. He drew in the nutty-aroma. It was good stuff, if less peaty than he preferred.
Anton poured himself another slug and tipped to Kau in a salute. This time, he took a reserved sip. Kau brought the glass to his mouth; the liquid fire combusted reassuringly on his tongue before scorching his throat.
‘She is too much of an asset. You’re right. If they don’t give her up, then we’ll be forced to go into the Ghetto again and get her ourselves. But not before infecting her, unleashing the agonising symptoms in front of them. The lab has an antidote that collects every virion of the Virus and makes her vomit it out. We charge in, claiming the ability to heal her; they let us because she’s in a bad way, and then we take her. But it’s so much easier if everyone complies.’
‘If you’re planning on getting her anyway, then why do I-?’
‘Have to be involved?’ Anton’s smile was wider than his tumbler. ‘Because I still don’t trust you. And you can pull more levers than we can, and we can’t fail this again. It’s for the survival of the human race.’
‘You don’t have to convince me, Sir. It’s the best possible course of action,’ Kau said.
Anton smiled. Was it in compliance of the student or the turn of the screw?
‘What’s the virus?’
Anton laughed dryly and shook his head. ‘Why would I tell you? You’ve got to earn my trust…Knowledge is power, and all that.’ He finished the rest of his whisky before giving a wave of the hand – Kau was dismissed. Kau left most of the whisky in his tumbler, though he hadn’t wanted to. It wouldn’t waste, Anton would see to that. Before he walked out the door, he remembered he still needed the VIP names for Phase One.
As soon as Kau asked, Anton’s face scowled, and he harrumphed a ‘fine,’ as Kau opened the door.
‘One more thing,’ Anton said before Kau managed to slip through. ‘I had confirmation, about the final domestic migration – your last case. It’s indefinitely suspended. All resources are diverted to Project Epomenzoic. We can’t meet our deadlines managing that, as well as this. We’ve notified your old Province Migration Team. Your efforts are 100% focused towards this now. Well, dependent on you securing the kid.’
All those people, their lives perpetually suspended, waiting for the day of absolution. They only had 12 months, 18 maximum before their homes were uninhabitable.
‘We can’t just leave them to die, Sir,’ Kau said. He couldn’t help the pleading in his voice, though he knew that it would do him no favours.
‘It won’t come to that, but there simply isn’t the resource to do anything about it now.’ Anton looked at his Interface. That was it, conversation, over. ‘Don’t forget to give me the report by the end of the week,’ he growled behind the screen.
As Kau stumbled back to his office, the ground was unsteady beneath his feet. Damn them! With one hand they were disregarding a population who’d been waiting in hope, and in another, they were trying to ensure humanity’s existence. There was no denying how much the world would benefit from Kodi’s guidance, but then she would be back in Anton’s sadistic hands. Of course, it wasn’t just the population’s lives at stake, it was his own too.
Kau stood to the side for a moment to steady his legs, and breathed in a lingering vapour of whisky, and with it an aftertaste like he’d swallowed a mouthful of Anton himself. Anton had given him less than an hour to wrap things up before a fleet of forceIntuimotos and Officers would escort him to the Ghetto. That meant he couldn’t go home first and warn Chandra and his mother about what was going to happen.
He wished he’d finished the rest of that whisky now. He imagined Anton’s hand clawing out for the tumbler, butchering the remnants Kau had left to prove that he wasn’t like Anton. They were all living double lives, to some degree, and Anton had just shown him his.
Kau’s double life had put him under threat again, but this time no coder or expert could crack him out of it, the only person he could rely on was himself.
* * *
Somewhere between the forceIntuimoto and the rock formation at the mouth of the Ghetto, Kau realised the only way he could make them hand Kodi over, was to exaggerate the truth.
He felt like a bad penny, or the prodigal son, depending on their point of view. Bad penny seemed more fitting, considering what he was about to say. His stomach bucked at the thought of it. How he’d last left it with Kodi, her hatred spewing at him like volcanic ash. He hadn’t dared to open the box labelled guilt around her family, but here he was, doing the UA’s bidding again. This time, however, he knew exactly what was at stake.
In Anton’s office, it had seemed obvious what was for the best; if she worked with the UA, people’s lives wouldn’t needlessly be at risk. But now as he walked towards the Ghetto, as solemnly as if he were at a funeral, he wasn’t so sure. Threatening her life to force her to return to her parents’ murderers and her abductors; it no longer seemed so simple.
Kau stopped purposefully at the rocks, to show the Ghettoites that he and the ten or so Officers had come for talk, rather than action. He imagined Chandra squirrelled in a bunker, maybe with his mother, assessing the threat. Perhaps they didn’t even realise it was him, now with his newly-shorn scalp. The late afternoon sun burned down on it like the striking of a match. There was a blood-curling caw in the distance, and he jumped. The Officers snorted and tittered behind him. He felt more exposed than the skin on his scalp, but there were more dangers than the sun to contend with.
They’d been standing there a few minutes or so before three bodies approached them, but it seemed much longer. Time elongated in the Ghetto – that was something else which didn’t play by the rules. The dark bobbing top-knot accompanied by purposeful eyes was unmistakably Chandra; by his side, a tall hulk striding with a lion’s pride was Lucas, followed by the kinder mass of Batz. He’d hoped that he might see his mother, but it was likely too much of a risk.
Though the faces were familiar, he realised how little he knew them, and he was unsure how they would react to what he came to say. He wished he�
��d been able to send them a message, warning them. As they came closer, Kau got a handle on how it was going to go. Chandra, calm and composed, held his eye; Lucas cracked his knuckles as though ready for a fight; Batz tempered beside him.
‘What do you want?’ Lucas shouted. Chandra put a hand on Lucas’ shoulder, depressing his rage.
‘I have a message,’ Kau said, with more zeal than he felt.
He’d practised what he wanted to say on the journey over here. He’d tell them about the virus, of course. He’d almost forgotten that they weren’t supposed to know about Project Epomenzoic, and that was the one thing Anton forbade him to tell. Failure wasn’t an option. That’s why he’d decided to raise the stakes and tell them that she’d already been infected. If he didn’t, he knew the Ghetto wouldn’t take the bait.
‘Kodi was exposed to a virus at the lab, which only we have the antidote for. She only has 72 hours before the symptoms take effect,’ Kau said, his voice unwavering, his tone firm.
‘When they do, it will be unpleasant. Her body will systematically shut down, organ after organ, while she’ll blur in and out of delirium and fever.’
‘That is unless you give her to me. The last thing we want is for her to die, she has so many reasons to live. But if you don’t hand her over, that’s what will happen.’
Lucas went to hurl a fist at his face, but one of the Officers got in first and shocked a Voltarm through his body. He writhed, and then fell to the floor. Though his own knees were shaking, Chandra knelt beside him to check his pulse. Batz thrust his chest forward to push the Officer back. They stood in an aggressive prelude to what might follow.
Chandra’s eyes flashed white with rage.
Were they all playing their parts, Kau thought, or was their anger real?
Chandra took a step towards Kau, the white-rage of his eyes unrecognisable; the piercing fury of betrayal, screamed as loud as if it had been from his mother. The Officers flexed by Kau’s side.
And the confusion unfurled, drawing down like blinds shielding from the sun – whose side was he supposed to be on? What was it that he was fighting for?
* * *
72 hours to hand over Kodi
It had been strange to see his reflection and not recognise the person staring back at him. He’d come home and showered but changing into his favourite t-shirt and shorts still didn’t make the face any more familiar. Like a belt fastened too tight, his face didn’t fit, and it wore him uncomfortably.
He hadn’t been able to shake the burn of Chandra’s eyes, the words he’d cursed under his breath. They’d journeyed back with Kau in the forceIntuimoto, drowning out the teasing from the Officers.
Chandra waited till the bitter end to give his fatal blow.
‘You are your father’s son after all,’ he had said, cold and collected, twisting the knife.
But if he’d told them the truth, they wouldn’t return Kodi. They’d try and figure out an alternative, they’d pull an ace from out of their sleeve, forsaking the world, to keep her safe. But Kodi was too much of an asset for the UA to hurt her like they had Odgerel, wasn’t she?
Kau looked back at his reflection – he needed to get a fucking grip. He had a plan, he had to stick to it. Despite trying to return Kodi to the UA, he was still a double agent for the Ghetto; he would continue to feed them information, but he wouldn’t sacrifice the safety of the world.
He fired off a message to the Ghetto while his brain was clear and in control. He explained what happened – that Anton and others had shaved his hair to do the lie detection test. That he’d passed, and his prize had been to deliver the message about Kodi. He said he hoped they’d understand. It wasn’t him; it was them. That he’d tried to find out what the virus was, but the best thing to do was give Kodi up; she’d die otherwise. He would look after her, he promised.
Though his Interface could have returned his car home from the UA base where he’d left it, he wanted to walk there and pick it up himself, stretch his legs and mind. The early evening sun seeped like tree-sap across the horizon; bush crickets had begun their woody-whisper.
He’d been walking for twenty minutes when he realised that he wasn’t near the base at all. He hadn’t intended to walk there, but then here he was, turning the corner, walking up the drive, opening the door.
He surprised himself at how his heart was racing, how short his breaths had become. He wasn’t a teenager anymore, so why was he acting like one?
He remembered his shaved head and readied himself for a reaction. After everything that had happened today, one bullet dodged, another one taken, he was no longer sure of himself. Who was right and who was wrong, but standing in the hallway, he needn’t have worried; his scalp was the last thing on either of their minds.
CHAPTER 30
Thursday 18th May 2062
48 hours to hand over Kodi
Jun pinched her tired eyes in place of losing her cool. It had to be a joke, and she kept missing the punchline.
‘No,’ Kodi said for the millionth time, like a truculent child. They were going through the top viruses Jun thought Kodi might be infected with but were getting nowhere fast.
‘I told you,’ Kodi said, ‘I’m trying to connect in with what it is, but I’m getting nothing,’ she sounded as desperate as Jun felt. She jumped from the stool she’d been sitting on, and it toppled to the ground with the force of it. Her feet crunched on the floor.
Their underground bolthole had been closing in on Jun since the early hours of that morning, while their problems had grown and multiplied.
Remnants of a spare bunker access panel were strewn on the table near the fallen stool. Before dawn had broken, Lucas had helped assess whether they could use it to run tests on her blood, rather than its usual purpose of correlating DNA. It was one of the first things they had tried and failed.
‘It’s old, basic technology,’ Lucas had said, shaking his head. Their biometric functionality analysed specific criteria only; it was incapable of diversifying.
Jun wasn’t a virologist, and they had no real equipment or programs; it was impossible to analyse Kodi’s bloods and body in the Ghetto. They needed outside expertise and tools to come inside, or they needed to get out, but the earliest they could leave was their planned escape in three days’ time. If, they would still escape.
‘Let’s try a few more,’ Jun said, though she wasn’t optimistic. It was unlikely Kodi would be infected with a synthetic virus that they knew of, or one that was related to organic viruses, which meant they’d have no idea what it was or how to treat it. If they could treat it. She was reminded of that fateful day when Odgerel died, and her depreciating test results. Her P-EP had slowly retreated, collapsing into itself till there was nothing left. Was the same happening again with Kodi? Without any equipment to test her neuro-data, Jun was fumbling in the dark worse than she had in the dummy run, but this time it was someone else’s life on the line.
She had thought breaking Kodi out of the lab would protect her. That keeping her away from them meant she was safe, but no. Another subject, another bounty on their head. No matter what she did, history insisted on repeating itself.
Kodi picked up the stool with a grunt, and threw herself back down on it, her shoulders inching toward her ears. The kiwi-prickles of her hair felt softer to the touch now, but she had begun to get pricklier. She had been oscillating between restless and unhelpful all morning, not that Jun blamed her. She had no idea how she would react to being infected with a life-threatening virus, but there had been the shadow of something else. Ever since Chandra had told them about the virus, it was as though Kodi had swallowed something, and was intent on holding it in.
When one of the Ghettoites had warned that ForceIntuimotos were on their way yesterday, Chandra, Lucas and Batz had gone to meet them. After they returned back to the East Bunker, Jun knew there was something wrong. Lucas had popped his knuckles, the sound of it cut like chopped wood; a quiet shock cradled Batz. Chandra had struggled to fin
d the words at first, but when he did, Kodi’s eyes had drifted to the four of them, as though she knew what was about to be said, then looked down to the floor.
As they discussed all their options and their next steps, Kodi had been so quiet…reserved. At first, Jun thought she was in shock, but paradoxically, she didn’t seem shocked about it at all. But when they asked if Kodi had known, she had thoughtfully shaken her head, and with the defiance of Solo, had answered the question none of them had dared to ask.
‘Whatever they may have put in my body, however, I might suffer, I won’t be blackmailed into going back to that lab.’ Kodi had calmly stood up and walked out of the bunker and into the night. Jun had gone after her, but Kodi had wanted to be on her own.
But today, as they went through trying to detect the virus in Kodi’s system, Jun sensed Kodi had that same peculiar behaviour as she had last night. Jun held up the Interface screen denoting the next virus. ‘Sal Nombre,’ Jun said.
Kodi closed her eyes for a moment before they flipped open. ‘No.’
Jun brought up the next virus, E581, and before she had the chance to show it, a solemn ‘no’ boomed from Kodi, and burrowed into the walls.
They were getting nowhere; Kodi was over it, and she was getting increasingly frustrated. ‘Why don’t we take a break?’ Jun said.
Kodi gave a long sigh, and the tense peaks in her shoulders seemed to relax.
‘Well done for today,’ Jun said, and put her hand to Kodi’s cheek in reassurance. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll figure this out.’ The words came effortlessly; keeping to them was more difficult.
‘It might just be easier for everyone if I leave,’ Kodi said, and gave an abrupt turn of her head. Warm tears skidded down Jun’s hand. ‘I knew I’d get in the way of you and Kau.’
It had been Kau, after all, who had drawn the UA’s pistol last night. Half of her was elated when they’d said that he delivered the message, while the other half made her stomach churn like spoiled vegetables. Though there was nothing more that Jun wanted than to see her son – congratulate him for passing the tests, celebrate his courage – it would have been too much of a risk, and now more than ever, they couldn’t take any chances.
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