Kau nodded. And there he was again, Anton the sadist who would be as comfortable killing Kau as he was feeding his fish. Kau went to leave, but something hung heavy around his neck. He had dragged his feet in apologising for bursting in on him and Celeste yesterday. He’d have to swallow his pride to keep up the pretence of everything, but the thought of it made his toes curl.
‘I’m sorry for yesterday; with you and Ms Crosbie,’ Kau said with a sincerity he reserved for lying.
‘Ahhh, what it is they say in the Euros…“water under the bridge”? No need to apologise to me… but perhaps Ms Crosbie might appreciate it,’ Anton said, and slapped Kau’s back good-naturedly. ‘Just before you arrived this morning, I sent those VIP names to you for the bespoke reports. You should have all you need.’
Another glimmer of Anton the human. Kau never knew what Anton’s agenda was. Anton didn’t trust him, it was clear that he didn’t, so why give Kau the names? He was a mystery, even more so with what Celeste had said last night – he still hadn’t processed it.
Anton showed him out, and as Kau turned and walked away, Anton shouted behind him, ‘Don’t let me down.’
It was almost easier to digest Anton the sadist than Anton the human, but when Kau failed to bring them Kodi, he knew which Anton would come for revenge.
Kau left the garden through the side gate and jumped into his car; he didn’t want to be late for the Ghetto – he had an appointment to keep.
After reading his mother’s comm last night, learning that no matter what happened, they only had twelve years left on Earth, it suddenly made everything brighter and sharper. Since becoming a double agent, his head had spun with lies and deceit. He didn’t know who he was or what he felt anymore. Like a magnet that had fucked its internal compass, he didn’t know up from down. What lies had he told himself, what confusion had he created? Nothing made sense anymore, from the lies, lies-on-lies, the second-guessing and the hidden agendas. All uttered from his mouth, spun in his mind, and compounded by everyone around him.
But learning that it was all futile, that with or without handing Kodi over, his days were numbered. Removing his survival out of the equation, it made it easier to see what he needed to do. Instead of trying to save his own skin, he needed to think globally. If the masses’ lifeline was to move to Mars, then there had to be some fundamental changes to how the world operated. The Ghettoites had been resisting the UA for years, but it hadn’t changed anything globally, and only kept them in a weaker position. If they wanted to make a stand against the UA, once and for all, it had to be smarter; less reactive, more encompassing. After all, it wasn’t just for their benefit; it was for everyone.
And that was when it hit him. Kodi and the virus. They had been looking at it from the weaker position, reactively, as they had with everything. If the Ghetto was calling the shots, how would they deal with it?
He had typed a message on the Chandra comm, telling them the truth – that Kodi hadn’t been infected with a virus, yet, it was only a matter of time, and why he’d lied.
I think I know how we can save Kodi. Meet me at 9.30am at the entrance, with all the Ghettoites you can muster, and I’ll explain everything.
Now, there was only one thing for it, he just hoped they’d be able to forgive him, and that they had enough fight left for one final push.
* * *
A tenseness permeated the Ghetto at Kau’s return; like a rumour starting out as a whisper but grew into a scream.
Chandra, who for the most part was as calm and constant as the ground beneath your feet, greeted him uneasily. The last time they had seen each other, Chandra had been furious. Now that Kau had admitted he’d lied about Kodi already being infected, perhaps he would be even worse. It felt like he’d let his father down, but worse – Chandra played by more honourable rules.
Chandra held his hand out to Kau; the relief of it smoothed out his kinks and creases. As soon as they shook, seemingly from nowhere, Ghettoites swarmed towards them, just as Kau had asked.
‘So, tell me,’ Chandra said with his usual composure, ‘What’s your plan for Kodi?’
‘The plan is in here,’ Kau said, and rapped on the trunk door.
It had occurred to him last night when he was replying to the Ghetto, that if the UA had planted a synthetic virus that was activated remotely, it didn’t need a physician to detect virions in Kodi’s system, it required a coder to identify the code.
From the skill he’d seen from Larisa with his lie detection test, she could disrupt any latent virus they’d planted. She could counter their code, or even overwrite it.
And so Kau had got in touch with Larisa and they’d met on a public access road, 15 minutes from the UA base, not far from Lake Baikal. The land was public ground, so there were no CC’s or tracking devices. Larisa had hidden her car in a thicket of trees, near a coniferous forest., which was concealed from the main highway. His mother had taken him there when he was younger; she had always been drawn to it, but he never understood why.
Larisa had walked ten minutes down the access road to meet Kau at a crossroads. She’d stood there waiting with her bag of equipment like a doctor on call, and greeted him in that kindly way she had about her, but they both knew the huge risk she was taking. She’d jumped into the trunk of his car, and he’d taken the best route he knew to make the hour-long journey as smooth and comfortable as possible.
‘Anything else?’ Chandra said, perhaps sensing the load that Kau was bearing.
Yes, there was plenty else. After messaging his mother and Chandra, he’d raced around to Celeste’s, but she wasn’t there. Usually, they would have been together, but after he’d burst in on her and Anton the day before, they hadn’t spoken. He needed space, and she might have been waiting for an apology.
By the time he’d got to her workshop, the horizon had darkened. Husky caramels and slashes of aubergine blended into the sky like one of Qin’s stews. She’d been there sure enough, doubled over her precious development model, hair falling in her face; her desk a mess of Interfaces and multiscale rulers; a vintage ceramic mug choked on model bits and manual fobs. Untidiness was not a good indicator of Celeste’s state of mind.
‘I know you lied about the timescales,’ Kau shouted, his gruff-voice bounced off the cluttered stuff inside the workshop – prototypes and her BioDome, development models and materials. Everything began to make more sense now. Her and Anton’s secret conferences, everyone holding back information. It wasn’t just that they didn’t trust him, they’d been working on a different timeline all along.
‘Out!’ Celeste screamed, rushing over to him and pushed him out of the door. She followed. ‘So we’re not recorded,’ she whispered.
They snuck outside of the building, into one of its corners hidden from the main base, with no CC cameras or recording equipment. Looking at Celeste, her creamy nose pinking with stress, her hands scoring her scalp, he found it difficult to believe she was part of the deception, but she had lied to him from the start.
‘Why didn’t you tell me? Only ten years…,’ he shook his head, but it wasn’t just that – she’d lied to him.
Her hands ran through her hair. ‘Bogus timescales kept those who weren’t as close to the project – and more of a risk – at bay. They’re scared of leaks, understandably, and everyone is just scared, full stop.’
Anton had only ever needed him to do the migratory paperwork, connect some dots thanks to his experience, and, of course, Kodi. Kau was only ever a means to the end.
‘They don’t trust you. I won’t insult your intelligence explaining why.’ What had their relationship been to her? He thought about the time at the Graveyard when she had told him about the baby, the decision she made, what had been done. Her intimacy and vulnerability, their closeness at that moment had been honest and sincere. But he couldn’t deny her and Anton’s clandestine meetings; the way she held Anton’s attention. He couldn’t bear to think it, let alone say it.
‘And you and Anton
…’ Could it have been one of Anton’s elaborate tricks? Kau tried to push it out of his mind, but visions of Anton and Celeste flooded in; her on his desk, his hands crawling up her body. He swallowed the acid rising in his throat. ‘I didn’t have you down as sleeping your way to the top.’
An eye detonated, his skin stung; Celeste had slapped him, and she was about to go for him again. Kau restrained her, shackling her hands together. She shook and shook, until the violence in her eyes turned to tears.
‘It’s not like that…’ she said. ‘Anton’s not a lover,’ she recoiled from him. ‘He’s like a father.’
Kau struggled to process what he’d heard. He hadn’t expected that. Celeste pulled her her hands away from him and dragged her hand through her hair. She looked at him with an inevitability; like she had finally confessed.
‘My parents were astrophysicists… they died when I was a baby. It was an accident, a terrible accident while they developed Mars Terraforming simulators. Anton was good friends with my father. Best friends. Both of them, really. You’ve seen the telescope in Anton’s office? That was my father’s. He was working on the long-term habitability of Mars – he helped inspire the Adaptive Strategies team,’ she said with a twinkle of pride in her eyes.
‘My aunt brought me up, but since their death, Anton’s always looked out for me. Helped and supported me. I can’t betray him.’
Kau’s brain percolated their conversations and interactions, and a story began to weave together. He remembered his father had mentioned one of Anton’s contacts being an Astrophysicist; some of the looks Anton had made when he was talking about Celeste, now he understood; it was familiarity, a pride.
‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,’ she said and wiped the tears from her cheeks. ‘But we had orders and, you know what happens if we go against those…’ Whatever she was thinking, she seemed to shake it away. ‘I didn’t know where you and I were going to begin with…’ but then something shifted, and she was baying for blood again. ‘If we’re talking about betrayals,’ her voice rose, ‘changing the locking system on your home-comp, meeting ‘troubled friends’… not being present. If you were me, what would you think?’
Her eyes spooled his, convincing him to tell her the truth, but how could he after he knew, ultimately, where her loyalties lay? But she was right; he’d lied too. ‘I was trying to keep my head above water.’ He thought she’d been his closest ally at the UA, but she had been so far away all the time. ‘If you only knew half of what they’d done-’
‘I can’t know,’ she interrupted, her eyelids fluttering like it was too dangerous to even look at him. ‘As much as I’m falling for you, I can’t fall out of my life. Knowing too much ends in only a handful of ways – you either go crazy with it, end up a sociopath or you end it all. Knowing the minimum is the only way…’ Droplets tore down her cheek.
Kau looked up to the cosmos and constellations. They were always there, no matter where you were, or how much time you had left. There was just one more thing he needed to ask her, one more thing he couldn’t decipher between what was real and what was fake.
‘Why did you lie about going to Mars?’
She turned back to him; her eyes earnestly scanned his face. ‘Anton cancelled the mission last minute – there was too much other stuff to do here. I tried to call you, and I went to yours, but you weren’t there,’ she said with a child’s innocence.
Of course, he’d been at his father’s. Their closeness at the Graveyard, it had been real, she hadn’t been playing him; he cupped her soft face in his hands.
‘I don’t want it to be over,’ she said and leaned her body into him; her curves fitted so well into his. He took in that reassuring, familiar smell, probably for the last time.
‘Neither do I.’ He pulled her tighter and kissed her forehead, and they both looked out into the dark abyss.
Even though the Earth was winding down, the sprawling blanket of stars in the sky seemed bigger, brighter somehow. As he held her body against his, he found for the first time, that he didn’t feel stronger or taller. Her rising star couldn’t help but stretch up towards the bigger and brighter, where it wanted, needed to be. Where was he?
They went back inside the workshop, and the shroud of the UA slowly pulled over her with every step. He thought of Anton, her loyalty to him. He wondered if his mother had overheard anything from their monitoring. Anton had always said information was knowledge, and knowledge was power.
As Celeste walked back to her model, Kau’s eyes were drawn to her BioDome in the corner of the workshop. He was drowning with information about the UA, and that was exactly what they had been afraid of – it was their weakest point of attack. The UA would always have more resources, more power, more people and Ai-ssistants…and the Ghetto had so far always responded reactively, jousted on a battled ground constructed by the UA, perpetually thwarted by their scale and savagery. The US nourished the world on toxic lies and manipulation; the only way to change it was to blow it all open. Share the knowledge, tell everyone the truth about everything – including how he’d begun to go toxic too – and bring down their power. It was the UA’s weakest point of attack, and the Ghetto needed to expose it.
He’d lingered by Celeste’s desk, with the pretence of tidying away the Interfaces, piling up the multiscale rulers. He’d slipped his hand into the ceramic mug that choked with bits and pieces and had pulled out one of the fobs that manually opened the workshop. It was another lie to Celeste, but she was back on the side where she belonged, focused on her development, set for the bigger and brighter. And he could finally commit to his.
A plan had come together, but he couldn’t do it alone. Of the two collaborators he needed to help bring the plan to life, one was in the trunk, and the other was standing in front of him.
‘I have the VIP names…and the bits and pieces my mother asked for,’ Kau said quietly, finally handing Chandra the box of his mother’s treasures, and wanting to say much more than he had. Asking Chandra was a bigger task than he thought. Could Chandra, could the Ghettoites, trust him again; could he ask them to risk more than they had before?
‘Your mother will be pleased,’ Chandra said, with that zen-like calm. ‘But you have something else cooking, don’t you? Whatever it is, you need another pair of hands?’
Chandra had made it easier than Kau had expected; easier than he deserved. It was like Chadnra has known all along and been quietly waiting for Kau to summon the courage to ask.
Although Kodi was supposed to be the one with the powers, sometimes, Kau felt like Chandra could read his mind.
CHAPTER 34
Saturday 20th May 2062
7 hours to hand over Kodi
Despite the trauma and stress that brought Larisa here, Jun was strangely comforted by her presence. Though they were from unrelated disciplines, there were enough parallels that felt reassuring. There was the leaning on equipment and tools to analyse and unlock the unknown; Larisa’s steady direction that demonstrated her reason and objectivity; her prep work was evident; her methodology, coherent. Jun wrapped all of this around her like a security blanket and allowed herself to indulge in the feeling that they might make some headway. Larisa had worked tirelessly with Kau and Jonquil. Her genius had helped keep them alive, could she now do the same for Kodi?
Being squirrelled away in the East Bunker meant they avoided the scorching midday sun but suffered from the intense humidity from being below ground. Jun’s mind fogged. Between worrying about Kodi and the virus, and Kau’s hare-brained plan, her mind lurched from one anxiety to the next and back again. But right here, right now, Kodi needed her.
Everyone from their Ghetto committee was present and correct. Solo and Batz stood like Captain and Lieutenant near the exit, waiting for battle to commence. Lucas and Chandra brooded by the table; they’d witnessed similar exploits yesterday but hoped for a better result. Kodi and Jun sat opposite one another at the table, awaiting Larisa’s next prompt.
Larisa
’s kit wouldn’t have looked out of place in Jun’s lab. With her greying hair, and lines around her eyes and mouth to match, in a different place and a different time, Jun thought they might have been colleagues or friends.
‘I’ll be doing a three-fold search,’ Larisa addressed the committee. ‘I’ll check Kodi’s blood for a synthetic virus-code. If I don’t find anything, as a final precaution, I’ll hack into the UA mainframe to see Kodi’s files. They’ll have records with whatever they injected her with. It’s just a bit riskier,’ Larisa said, and placed the last of her equipment on the table. ‘But first, I’m going to do a chip sweep,’ she said and brought out a small-cylindrical device that was no bigger than a lipstick. ‘Stand up, sweetie,’ she said to Kodi.
When she first arrived thirty minutes ago, Larisa had received a welcome warmer than Eli’s, though infinitely more panicked. Everyone knew her from before, of course; from helping Jonquil, amongst others, out of life-threatening scrapes over the years. Jun wondered why Larisa, who lived by the Ghettoite’s principles, hadn’t moved here to be with like-minded people. Instead, she seemingly preferred a reclusive life, living in an abandoned area of their Province, with old-world buildings and forgotten lives. After Kau had completed the finishing touches to his plan, he would collect Larisa and take her back home, back to obscurity.
‘Arms out,’ Larisa said. A fan-like wing, from caterpillar to butterfly emerged from the lipstick device, pulsing from electromagnetic energy. Larisa swept it over Kodi, fastidiously going over every vein and speck of skin, before giving a satisfied nod. ‘She’s clear of chips. I take that as a good sign. Usually, but not always, as there are so many ‘cell’ receivers, you’d expect a transmitter chip to act as an antenna, deploying the signal from the UA control room to activate the cells.’
Kodi sprung back to her stool triumphantly. Jun spared herself any such indulgence; the luxury of wishful thinking was dangerous. Now they would check if there was a synthetic virus in Kodi’s blood. Jun went through the motions as she did yesterday but was desperate for a different ending. She sterilised the vacutainer, and as she pinched Kodi’s skin, and drove in the needle, she bit back the reminder that they had less than seven hours to resolve this.
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