Genesis War (Genesis Book 3)

by Eliza Green

  Deighton thought about Serena—his latest creation. Peter Cantwell, the original founding member of the World Government, had plans to protect the human race from itself. Deighton wondered if his dead mentor would have been proud of his achievements.

  A waiter hovered close to his table. Deighton didn’t look up as he said, ‘Where’s François tonight?’

  ‘He’s in the back. Do you want to speak to him?’

  Deighton hesitated. ‘No.’ He was in no mood for company.

  ‘Can I get you something to drink? Water?’

  ‘Get me a glass of Merlot 2122, from François’s personal stock.’

  ‘And to eat?’ The waited shifted nervously.

  ‘I need more time.’ The waiter left and Deighton relaxed into his chair.

  Serena’s alteration had turned out better than he could have hoped. He’d sent her to Exilon 5 without the board members’ approval or ordering extensive testing of her genetic code. But he already had what he needed: a sample of her DNA. Serena and Anton would serve other purposes now: to cause mayhem among the Indigenes. He needed the board members full attention on his plan, a new alteration programme that would pick the best humans for alteration. But while the Indigenes lived, his plan would not work. Only one species deserved to live on Exilon 5—the one created in Serena’s image.

  Deighton looked around the room. He recognised a few faces—high-level personnel from World Government, heads of security—all people he had supervised. Now he had employees who did that work.

  The waiter returned with his glass of Merlot and spilled some on the table.

  ‘Watch what you’re doing,’ said Deighton. ‘I’m not paying for that. I’ll expect to see a discount on my bill.’

  The waiter flushed crimson.

  ‘Get me some water, then take my order.’

  The waiter hurried away.

  Deighton’s left hand shook again. He set the DPad down and sat on his hand to keep it still. The words on the menu blurred as his mind drifted elsewhere—to Anton and the events at the Galway Medical Facility. The medical team had wiped Anton’s memories of his time on Earth, then implanted a tracer and recording device in his head. Deighton wanted evidence to show the board members that the Indigenes were dangerous and should be eliminated. The device in Anton’s head would monitor his activities and should have recorded the moment when Anton had delivered the bomb to Exilon 5. That should be proof enough of his volatility. But first Deighton needed access to the feed.

  When he’d killed Dr Finnegan, there had only been time to implant a tracer and recording device in one head—Anton’s or Serena’s—before the facilities were placed on lockdown. Anton was dispensable—Serena would serve another purpose. Daphne Gilchrist arranged for the pair to be transported to Exilon 5.

  But the tracking device in Anton’s head had yet to connect to the military’s equipment on Exilon 5. Something to do with a dampening field around the Indigene’s lair. No, for Deighton to access the recorded footage, Anton must leave the tunnels.

  Deighton hated waiting on people. Had Anton triggered the bomb successfully? Who had been killed? Were the Indigenes destroying each other? How had they reacted to Anton’s personality transplant?

  It frustrated him to rely on reports from the ground troops on Exilon 5. They had confirmed sightings of Serena out hunting at night, at ease with other Indigenes. It thrilled him to hear that the Indigenes had accepted his protégé—the one he had falsely accused of murdering Dr Finnegan—into the fold.

  Deighton needed all the ammo he could get. The pro-Earth board members who had invested heavily in Earth were reluctant to move to a planet where the Indigenes threatened any business potential. He could now report back the Indigenes had accepted Serena—a murderer—into their community. He would tell them a full-scale Indigene retaliation would happen soon and the time to take control of Exilon 5—in new bodies and with a new plan—was now. He would insist that the Indigenes be eliminated. Then they could start over—a new race without the flaws of the old one. Remove the threat of retaliation and new investments could be made with the potential for massive financial gains.

  A different waiter returned with a glass of water and put it down. He didn’t seem so nervous. ‘Can I take your order, sir?’

  Deighton focused on the menu listing. He thought about asking François for a more personal rundown of the specials, but he didn’t want him seeing his tremors—news travelled fast among the elite.

  His options were Vietnamese dog, genetically modified bluefin tuna, or veal—the latter sourced from one of the few meat farms still in existence. Deighton despised the bland flavour of replicated meat. The World Government had commissioned farms to exclusively supply a select number of restaurants similar to Les Fontaines around the globe.

  ‘Get me the veal,’ said Deighton. The waiter nodded, and Deighton handed him the DPad.

  He sat back and released his hand. It was numb but at least the tremors had stopped. His plan was to get to Exilon 5 where he stood a better chance of finding a cure for his medical condition. Or he could find the cure on Earth—a more difficult prospect—that would improve his chances to transfer to Exilon 5. Preliminary genetic tests would show his faulty genes, cured or not. Deighton could skip the testing phase because of his connections. Or, he could go straight to the end prize and alter his genes to become a better version of himself.

  He must somehow convince the new chair, Tanya Li, to accept his accelerated plans for alteration. His life depended on it.

  The veal arrived and Deighton stabbed the bloody meat with his fork. The prongs struck bone. The shudder up his arm reminded him of when he’d applied pressure to Caroline Finnegan’s neck. He carved off a slice of meat and shoved it in his mouth. Blood dripped down his chin; he dabbed at it with the edge of his pristine white napkin, staining it pink. He scooped up his wine glass and silently toasted Serena—the product of his persistence. The liberal board members with an eye on Exilon 5 would demand her return to test her code. The conservatives wouldn’t care; their interest was in keeping people, not Indigenes, on Earth.

  Deighton drank some wine and put his glass down. The waiter appeared with the bottle and filled the glass half way. Deighton tapped the edge of the glass and the waiter continued to pour almost to the top.

  ‘Leave the bottle,’ he demanded. He planned to get drunk tonight.

  The waiter complied and left.

  Deighton relaxed under the wine’s influence. He was keen to forget a few things, like his problem with the new Chair for one. Tanya Li, who had been distracted by a personal matter, had turned her focus to increasing the transfer numbers to Exilon 5. Deighton was running out of ways to push ahead with his suggestions, without drawing attention to his personal problems.

  Deighton gulped down more wine. The soothing warmth of the alcohol bolstered his confidence. The news about the tracer and recording device in Anton’s head would satisfy the board members for now, but he would not mention Anton’s personality adjustment. Deighton had his reasons for turning the Indigene into a suicide bomber with a particular target in mind. The tracer and recording device would get them inside the Indigenes’ underground fortress. While the rough location of their tunnels was known, the World Government had been unable to pinpoint their exact location. New cities were being built in strategic areas to hem them in.

  He finished his glass of wine and poured another.

  There was still the problem of accessing Anton’s feed.

  He sat back in his chair.

  It was settled. Tomorrow, Deighton would suggest to the board members that they drive the Indigenes to the surface, up to their world where they couldn’t hide.

  4

  Stephen’s eyes fluttered open. Serena stood over him.

  ‘Stephen! Are you okay?’ She cradled his head in her lap.

  He sat up, causing his head to pound. He ground his fist to his temple. ‘How long was I out for?’

  ‘About ten minutes
. What happened?’

  ‘I could ask you the same question.’ He closed his eyes and concentrated on the throbbing pain until it shattered into tiny pieces. His arms and legs pricked with pain as they received the fragments.

  Serena helped him to stand. ‘Should I get help?’

  He waved off her concern. ‘I’m fine but what happened in the Nexus? Are you okay? Why did it react to you like that?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ She turned away from him. ‘Sometimes I feel like an Indigene, but I also drift in and out of another life.’

  ‘Something to do with a woman and a little girl?’

  Serena turned back, her eyes wide. ‘How do you know about them?’

  ‘I’ve seen them in your mind. Who are they?’ He felt braver asking her questions now— the Nexus’s reaction to her gave him a good excuse.

  ‘I don’t know...’

  ‘When were you in a lab?’

  ‘I don’t know anything, Stephen.’

  ‘What else do you remember about this other life?’

  She paced in front of him. ‘I remember an apartment. Did I live there once? How could that be if I’m an Indigene?’ She became agitated. ‘I’m certain I came from District Eight. But I also feel as though I’ve never been there.’

  A bout of dizziness forced Stephen to close his eyes. Serena steadied him.

  ‘No more questions,’ she said. ‘You need to rest. I’m taking you back to your quarters.’

  Stephen didn’t argue as she returned him to his dwelling. He would ask her about the images later.

  At his door, she said, ‘I’ll check on you in a bit.’

  He nodded and entered his small quarters containing a single mattress on the floor and a timepiece propped against one wall. On the far wall were drawings of equations he’d dreamt about, scrawled on nights when he couldn’t sleep.

  He closed the door and the sounds of the district disappeared. He sat on his mattress and leaned against the wall, too wired to sleep. Another dizzy spell forced him to lie down. Just as his mind began to unwind, a knock on his door had him sitting upright.

  The soundproofing omicron prevented him from detecting a clear signature. He hoped it was Serena wanting to talk some more.

  But when he opened the door he was surprised to find Arianna there.

  ‘Stephen, are you okay?’ She pushed her way inside. ‘I sensed you were in pain. Was it one of your visions? What did you see?’

  He couldn’t hide his feelings from Arianna, an empath.

  He shut the door. ‘I’m okay, Ari. I just hit my head in the tranquillity cave.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Serena and I were using the Nexus. She suggested I use it to control my envisioning ability.’

  ‘And you wound up hurt, how?’ She frowned. ‘You’ve never had an accident using the Nexus. Yet you use it one time with her and it almost kills you?’

  ‘It wasn’t like that. She couldn’t disconnect on her own. I had to carry her out of her unit.’

  Arianna looked unconvinced. ‘I’m worried about you, Stephen. You’ve put a lot of faith in Serena but you’ve only just met her. What do you really know about her?’

  Stephen hadn’t thought to ask Arianna to use her gift. ‘What can you sense from her?’

  ‘Nothing out of the ordinary—and that’s the problem.’

  Stephen was both disappointed, and relieved. ‘Maybe we should give her the benefit of the doubt.’

  Arianna walked over to Stephen’s wall drawings. She traced her finger along the black line of a formula. ‘I want to keep an open mind but I don’t trust her.’

  ‘If it’s because of our friendship, you have nothing to worry—’

  Arianna turned and shot him a look. ‘This isn’t jealousy, Stephen. You’re like a brother to me.’ She sighed and faced the wall again. ‘I’ve spoken to other females and they feel uneasy around her. All the men lust after her as if she controls them.’

  Stephen laughed. ‘That’s rubbish, Ari and you know it. We all have free will. None of us can exert control over others.’

  Arianna faced him and folded her arms. ‘Elise could.’

  ‘That was different, and temporary.’ Elise, a former elder and empath, could influence moods, not actions.

  ‘I just think we should keep our guards up when she’s around. Things don’t add up about her. For instance, she says she doesn’t know Anton, yet Anton knows her. One of them is lying.’

  ‘Just a rumour, Arianna.’ His heart beat a little faster.

  But Arianna wouldn’t let it go. She uncrossed her arms. ‘Everything’s starting to unravel without Pierre’s guidance.’

  ‘How is Pierre?’ Stephen had been too preoccupied with Serena to visit him.

  ‘He’s locked himself away in the Council Chambers, won’t let anyone in. Gabriel tried to get him to eat something—some of the wolf you killed—but he won’t open the door to accept it.’

  ‘And what about Anton?’

  Arianna dropped her gaze to the floor.

  Stephen’s breath hitched. ‘What is it? Has something happened to him?’

  ‘I went to see him. I went to see Anton.’

  He stared at Arianna. ‘On your own?’

  She looked at him and nodded.

  ‘You shouldn’t have done that. Whatever has control of Anton is dangerous.’

  ‘I took precautions, Stephen.’

  He sighed at Arianna’s stubbornness. ‘What happened?’

  ‘The malevolent personality still controls him. I wasn’t strong enough to release him.’

  Stephen recalled the evil look in Anton’s eyes when they’d discovered Elise’s body in the makeshift medical facility just after the explosion. Arianna’s yellowish-grey aura confirmed her lack of confidence.

  ‘Then we’ll have to try something else.’

  ‘There was something else the invasive personality said... about Pierre,’ said Arianna.

  ‘Tell me.’

  ‘I don’t know where to start.’

  Stephen stepped closer and rested his forehead against hers. He closed his eyes. ‘Then show me.’

  Arianna navigated the uneven floor of the tunnel, on her way to the room where they held Anton. Her heart thumped in her chest. What was she thinking, going to see Anton on her own? He was a different person since he’d returned to the district. Yet, Pierre had not objected to her plans when she’d spoken to him through the Council Chambers door. She suspected he hadn’t understood her intentions. But who else would help Anton if not her? Not Stephen. The strange female, Serena, occupied too much of his time.

  Those who didn’t understand how much Anton had changed called him a murderer.

  Anger blazed through Stephen. He expected better of his friend. ‘You should have told me. I would have listened.’

  ‘I know that now.’

  The district still reeled from Elise’s death. The grief from others overwhelmed Arianna, but not as much as the relief she detected from some at her passing. It saddened her to think that not everyone had liked the former elder.

  Arianna exited the tunnel and entered a circular residential area containing dozens of private dwellings. Two male Indigenes—one older—guarded just one door. A noise from the opposite tunnel drew her attention. Two Indigenes took up a defensive position. Behind her, a male and female blocked off the tunnel she’d just come through. Who had given the order?

  ‘It was Gabriel,’ said Stephen. ‘He thought it was better if everyone used an alternative route.’

  The guards posted outside Anton’s door didn’t move as she approached. She stopped a foot away, and probed their minds. She couldn’t pin down the older male’s erratic emotions, but the younger male’s uncertainty was clear.

  ‘I’m here to see the prisoner,’ she said.

  The guards glanced at each other, then at her. Arianna cleared her throat. ‘Pierre asked me to come and speak with him.’

  ‘He would never have asked you to do that,’ said
Stephen.

  ‘I know—which is why I had to lie.’

  The older male shook his head. ‘He would have told us.’

  ‘In case you haven’t noticed, Pierre is in no fit state to be running operations this delicate.’

  ‘I can’t let you in,’ said the older male.

  Arianna lowered her voice. ‘Please. I have to try. It’s what Elise would have done.’

  Stephen smiled with a heavy heart. ‘Yes, she probably would have.’

  The younger male spoke to the older guard telepathically. ‘Get permission from Gabriel first,’ said the older male.

  ‘It was Gabriel who told me to come.’ She surprised herself at how easily she could lie.

  ‘I’ll need to hear it from him.’

  She didn’t have time for this. ‘Please, you have to let me inside. Gabriel’s too busy keeping tabs on his crazy wife. He’s not going to be happy I dragged him all the way here.’

  The older male sighed. ‘Okay, but be quick.’

  Stephen couldn’t believe it. ‘They shouldn’t have let you in.’

  ‘I know, but I had to try.’

  Arianna held her breath and cracked the door open. She looked around the small single-occupancy room. Anton sat on a silver metal chair facing the door, one leg crossed over the other. He rested his chin on his fist, and his elbow on his raised knee. He looked up when she closed the door behind her. His gaze dropped to the floor and he sighed.

  Arianna exhaled and stayed near the door. Her heart pounded in her chest. She sensed Anton’s boredom; it made it easier to probe his thoughts. Elise had said that Anton was trapped behind strong murky colours. But all Arianna saw were washed out colours. Then she saw them—brighter hues hidden behind the faded ones, and a small ball of light beyond. She pushed further inside Anton’s mind to reach the light. But something pushed her back and broke the mind connection. Arianna steadied herself against the door.