Genesis War (Genesis Book 3)

by Eliza Green

  ‘Besides the fucking conservative members, what other obstacles are there?’

  Daphne released a quick, soft breath. ‘I spoke to Laura O’Halloran recently. She’s been acting very odd lately.’

  ‘What—since their trip to Exilon 5?’

  ‘It would seem so.’

  ‘Strange—how?’ A hunched over Deighton stared at the floor. He examined his hands.

  ‘She’s more jittery than usual, like something’s bothering her.’

  ‘Maybe she’s working out how to help her new friends.’

  ‘No, this is different,’ said Daphne. ‘She was rattled after viewing the contents of the micro file, but she kept her composure. Given her recent odd behaviour, I suggest we keep a closer eye on her.’

  Deighton shrugged. ‘Do what you want, Daphne. And what the fuck was Tanya’s suggestion all about—to include Taggart? I want you to ask that Laura one why she and that investigator are hanging out so much.’

  ‘There’s nothing to indicate she and Taggart have planned anything. I mean, they can’t do much without us knowing.’

  ‘Can’t do much?’ He lifted both brows. ‘They can interfere in our progress so far. Serena is proof that fast alteration can work. She’s already adapted to life on Exilon 5 as though she were born there. We no longer have to wait years for the new batch of Indigenes to settle on the new planet, like we did with the first generation.’

  All this talk of big change made Daphne nervous. ‘By my reckoning, Bill Taggart is still an issue, more so than Laura. What should we do with him?’

  ‘We need him.’ Deighton sighed. ‘Tanya’s right, as much as that pains me to admit. Taggart has a relationship with them. He should be on our side not theirs. If we cut him loose now, we give them an ally. We must use him to get close to the Indigenes somehow.’

  Daphne rushed through ideas to extricate herself from Deighton’s plans. She hadn’t spoken to Tanya Li in private yet. She had yet to gauge the new Chair’s ability to pull Deighton into line.

  ‘Any news of the explosion on Exilon 5?’ she said.

  ‘Apparently ground troops in the area reported a tremor.’

  ‘Is the intended target dead?’

  He shrugged. ‘I’ll find out soon enough. Did you know the Indigenes evolve faster when exposed to life-threatening situations? Just think of how we could speed up evolution if we kept the new generation—the ones we select—in a state of perpetual fear. Can you imagine the change we would see? We would probably hit an evolutionary wall at some stage, but that’s when we would begin new tests—to better the best of ourselves.’

  Daphne’s jaw clenched at the thought of a life lived in perpetual fear. That used to be her life. No more. She nodded and forced a smile as Deighton continued.

  ‘What I don’t know is if the Indigenes know yet how fast they can change. We should get in there while they’re still a fraction of the species they could be.’

  Her stomach heaved as she turned on the charm. ‘I look forward to being part of our new future. I am sick of this ageing process.’

  ‘It’s possible to live forever, Daphne.’ His eyes found the jaded cityscape. ‘Very possible.’

  An uneasy silence settled between them.

  ‘Tell me, my dear, do you know a good seamstress?’ said Deighton.

  Daphne frowned at him. He picked up his jacket with a shaking hand and showed her a hole under the arm. ‘My favourite suit jacket. The one I wore to my CEO interview.’

  How long had Deighton suffered hand tremors? She watched him a moment longer and noticed a twitch in his right leg. Was this the reason for Deighton’s ambitious plans? If so, she may have found a way to pick apart his plans for rapid alteration.

  She smiled and nodded. ‘Have Carol drop it over to my office. I have a tailor friend who is absolutely marvellous.’

  The yacht set sail once more, heading back to where they had left the cars. One of Deighton’s bodyguards helped Daphne ashore. She’d been worried Deighton had something else in mind. But no, it had just been a chat. At least she had some new information about Deighton. His tremors would be a good place for her to start. With her briefcase in hand, she navigated each careful step over the weed-filled concrete.

  Deighton marched on ahead and reached the car first. A second bodyguard opened the door for him and Deighton whispered something as he climbed in.

  Her skin prickled at the interaction and she picked up the pace to reach the other side of the car. She’d made it as far as the back of the car when someone came up behind her. She tried to turn but a thick arm held her in place. A hand tore the gel mask from her face. She dropped her briefcase and clawed at mouth. Her chest tightened as her lungs drew in air but found no relief.

  ‘What are you doing?’ she gasped.

  The car window lowered and Deighton, still wearing his mask, stuck out his head. ‘This is where we say goodbye. You made good points on the boat, but too little too late. I won’t have you interfering with my plans. And I no longer trust that you have my best interests at heart. I saw how you looked at me, at my shaking hands.’

  Daphne clutched at her throat and sank to her knees. The strain on her lungs became unbearable and her chest tightened even more.

  ‘Charles, please.’ It came out as barely a whisper.

  ‘You should have kept your mouth shut, Daphne. You should have supported me.’

  She slumped to the ground, pressing her hand against her lungs to encourage more air in. The first bodyguard, still cradling her gel mask, hovered over her. Deighton watched from his car.

  This would be her last memory. No family. No friends. Just two strangers watching her.

  Then the pain in her chest exploded.

  16

  The London ITF office came into view as Bill arrived for the briefing he hadn’t been told about. All Simon Shaw had said was new investigations had started into the Indigenes on Exilon 5. Bill still had no idea if Simon was a friend or foe. Did he keep information back because he didn’t trust Bill or because of an order from the top? Whatever the reason, Bill needed a distraction more than ever. Something was about to happen. He could feel it.

  He entered the lobby and passed through the body scanner. The corridor with hospital lighting stung his eyes. His feet marched on the blue carpet that had seen better days. Simon’s office was on his left. He glanced inside, not surprised to find it empty.

  Bill stopped walking. He could be in and out of Simon’s office. But just as he stepped towards the open door, a roving camera entered the space through its own special entrance and swept the area. Bill hunkered down and fiddled with his shoelaces until the camera disappeared the way it had come. He stood up and resumed his walk past Simon’s office to the corridor on the left where the briefing rooms were located.

  Ahead of him, a glass door divided the hallway in two. He scanned his thumb on the security plate to the side and the door made a sucking noise upon release. He passed by the briefing rooms he knew were empty until he reached the second last door on the left. Voices coming from inside increased in volume when he opened the door a crack. Simon Shaw stood at the top of the bright room while Team Eleven occupied the chairs around the boardroom style table. Bill took a deep breath and burst in, noting the look of surprise on Simon’s face.

  ‘Sorry, sorry, sorry.’ Bill raised a hand. ‘My alarm never went off this morning.’ He removed his coat and draped it across a spare chair by the door. He fixed his untidy shirt and straightened his tie before he sat down.

  Simon frowned. ‘I never invited you to this briefing, Bill.’

  ‘Oh, didn’t you? Well, I’m here now. Who knows the Indigenes better than me, right? I mean, didn’t I spend twelve months profiling the little buggers not too long ago?’ Bill glanced around the room and recognised a few faces from his old team: Caldwell, Jones and Page, among others, who’d served under him during the original investigation into Stephen. ‘Caldwell, what brings you here?’ Bill folded his arms.

/>   Caldwell stood up and squared his shoulders. ‘That’s Commander to you now.’

  Bill looked from Caldwell to Simon, waiting for the punch line. When Simon didn’t deliver one, he smiled and played along. ‘Okay... Commander. I’m sure they’ll rectify that typing mistake in no time.’

  ‘Sorry, Bill. This is a closed briefing,’ said Simon. ‘I need you to leave.’

  ‘Leave?’ Bill dropped the pretence and his smile. ‘This is my investigation, Simon—always has been. If I’d had my way, these losers wouldn’t have got within a mile of Exilon 5.’

  ‘Things have changed since then. Commander Caldwell will handle things from now on.’

  Caldwell sat down. ‘I always said you weren’t the right fit for the job, Bill.’

  Bill pointed a finger at him. ‘I haven’t forgotten what you did, Caldwell. Your ego will fuck this one up too. Just you watch.’

  The others sniggered. Bill guessed the news about their commander’s decision to disobey Bill’s orders—to observe Stephen only—was common knowledge. Caldwell’s cockiness dropped away along with his sneer.

  Simon approached him and Bill got to his feet. He played up his irritation when Simon ushered him towards the door. ‘I’ll speak to you later, Taggart.’

  ‘Too right you will.’ Bill lowered his voice. ‘You’ve got some fucking explaining to do.’

  Outside the room, Bill was about to leave when he noticed Simon had not closed the door fully. He stayed back and listened.

  Caldwell delivered his report. ‘We were recording previous patterns in Indigene activity on the surface when the ground shook, as though there had been an earthquake. We now suspect it may have been an explosion. Indigene hunting has intensified over the past couple of days and I have no explanation. We can find no obvious pattern to their movements and they’re surfacing at all hours of the night. I recommend we investigate the tunnels that aren’t used by Maglev trains to see if something happened there.’

  Bill had told Stephen to mix up his and others’ hunting movements. It would confuse the military that would be looking for behavioural patterns.

  ‘I won’t tell you again, Commander—your orders are to observe only,’ said Simon.

  ‘I get that, but my men don’t like to wait. Covert operations are not our thing. We’re not trained to observe.’

  That exact attitude had almost cost Bill his job after a delicate mission to observe Stephen went awry.

  ‘Let us search the tunnels and pull one of those freaks out of their hiding place,’ Caldwell went on. ‘Then we can talk about observation.’

  Bill desperately wanted back on the case. But he was sure Deighton had ordered Simon to keep him chained to a desk.

  ‘What about their hunting numbers?’ said Simon.

  ‘A slight increase, that’s all,’ said Caldwell

  ‘How many of them did you see?’

  ‘Well, there was a sharp drop off directly after the earthquake or underground explosion. Within a few days, the normal hunting party made its nightly appearance again.’

  ‘I asked how many of them you saw, Caldwell.’ Simon’s tone was sharp. ‘Deighton wants confirmation.’

  The hairs on Bill’s neck stood at the mention of Deighton.

  ‘The usual, except—’ said Caldwell.

  ‘Except what?’

  ‘Well, another was out there with them—a female. I haven’t seen her before.’

  ‘Describe her for me,’ said Simon.

  ‘Tall, attractive, in that weird freakish kind of way.’ Bill pictured Caldwell shrugging. Caldwell had no clue why Simon was asking. ‘I don’t like those bottom-feeders—ugly fuckers, the lot of them—but this one? Well, she was all right looking. Nice blue eyes. They called her Serena.’

  Bill’s heart thrummed loud in his chest. Stephen had mentioned a newcomer to their district. No cause for alarm, but if Deighton wanted details there was more to Serena than met the eye. Her arrival in District Three may not have been an accident. She may be a World Government plant.

  Bill’s communication device rang and he covered it with his hand. ‘Shit...’ He strode towards the connecting door when the briefing room fell silent.

  ‘Bill, can you hear me?’ said Laura.

  ‘Say nothing.’

  He walked back to the briefing room just as Simon appeared at the door.

  ‘Bill, I thought you’d gone.’

  ‘I forgot my coat. Excuse me.’ He pushed past Simon and grabbed it from the chair just inside the door. Simon gave him a look that said he should leave.

  ‘I said I’m going.’ He walked off. This time Simon closed the door all the way.

  Bill passed through the glass door and slipped inside the first empty room he found.

  ‘I suppose you heard all that?’ he whispered into the microphone.

  ‘Hard not to,’ said Laura. He picked up a tremor in her voice. ‘Trouble?’

  ‘Nothing I can’t handle. What’s the matter?’

  ‘We need to talk—urgently. Can we meet this evening?’

  At 7pm, Bill waited for Laura outside the docking station that had once been London City Airport. A large set of dark doors masked the interior. The doors opened and Laura emerged. Bill’s heart raced when he saw the confusion and terror on her face.

  ‘Come with me.’ He pulled her toward the Maglev train station. ‘I could have come to you.’

  ‘No, I had to get out of Sydney for a couple of hours. I don’t care if they know it.’

  Laura remained silent on the short trip to Stratford and Bill didn’t push her to talk. He took her to Mick’s Bar on the high street, a place with a reputation for good bootleg alcohol. He’d discovered it just before his assignment to investigate the Indigenes on Exilon 5. Dark wood dominated the interior. Bright lights more suitable for interrogations hung overhead. A pervasive smell of body odour coated the inside of his nostrils. Yet, he loved the old-world feel to the place.

  The bar was quiet that evening. Bill nodded to Mick stood behind the counter who filled two tumblers with amber liquid. He waved away Bill’s offer of payment.

  ‘Your credit’s still no good here,’ said Mick. He went back to watching the Light Box news feed on the wall with the other punters.

  He and Mick had an unspoken arrangement. Mick had a chequered past, but he knew who the good guys were and which side to stay on.

  Bill carried the tumblers of whiskey to a quiet snug at the back of the bar, while Laura followed. Her low-heeled shoes clacked on the dark wooden floor. The two men sat at the bar perked up at the sight of a woman. Laura pulled her coat around her. They sat down and Bill handed her one tumbler. He took a large gulp, then another.

  Laura’s mouth twisted when she sipped hers, but soon the alcohol took the edge off and she visibly relaxed.

  ‘You were vague when we spoke earlier. Did Gilchrist call you in?’ Bill said after a few minutes.

  Laura looked up at him, surprised. ‘You haven’t heard?’

  ‘Heard what?’

  She lowered her voice. ‘Gilchrist is dead.’

  ‘What? When? What happened?’

  ‘They found her by the Potomac River in Washington. Her gel mask was in her hand and her hair was wet. They say she drowned.’

  ‘Shit.’ Bill rubbed his face. ‘But that’s not why you met me, was it?’

  Laura shook her head. ‘Gilchrist pulled me into her office yesterday. She told me she knew about our trip to Exilon 5, and to Magadan.’

  ‘Why are you only telling me this now?’

  ‘Sorry. But we already had our suspicions.’

  ‘So who talked?’

  ‘Harvey Buchanan.’ Laura sipped some more whiskey.

  ‘Son of a bitch.’ Although it didn’t shock Bill to learn Harvey had betrayed them. Harvey had a good thing going with the World Government.

  ‘Look, maybe it’s good that Harvey spilled his guts.’ Laura took another sip. ‘I didn’t get the impression that Gilchrist called me in for
a reprimand. She asked me questions about the Indigenes but it sounded like she wanted to know for personal reasons. Maybe things are—were—strained between her and the board members. Maybe that’s why she died.’

  ‘Deighton’s the most likely candidate.’ Bill turned the empty glass in his hand. ‘I told you Simon’s been acting weird since my return. It feels like he wants me to know something, but he can’t say.’

  ‘This is getting dangerous, Bill. I wasn’t Gilchrist’s number one fan, but now she’s dead, I’ll admit I’m scared.’

  Bill half-smiled. ‘It’s been dangerous from the moment that woman gave you those micro files. Gilchrist’s death won’t change anything. That we’re not lying in a similar pool of water just proves they need us. We need to keep searching for the truth.’

  But Bill needed more. He’d even considered confronting Deighton about everything, but he killed off that idea on the journey home from Exilon 5. He had Laura’s safety to think about as well as his own. Now, Gilchrist’s death only proved there was something to find.

  Laura’s stomach rumbled as she drank more. ‘I’m starving. Can we get something to eat?’

  ‘Sure. There’s a replication terminal not far from here.’

  She looked disappointed. ‘Can’t we go to Cantaloupe again?’

  ‘Replication terminal or nothing, I’m afraid.’ As much as Bill liked Cantaloupe, he couldn’t afford it without charging the bill to the World Government tab. He wanted to stay off their radar as much as possible.

  Bill and Laura ordered their food and found a spot at the counter in the communal eating area. The place heaved with night workers preparing for shifts that would run till morning.

  Bill bit into his chicken sandwich and wrinkled his nose. ‘This is disgusting.’

  Laura shrugged. ‘Tastes fine to me. We can still go to Cantaloupe, you know.’ On the counter, Laura had laid out a sausage and gravy pie, a tuna sandwich and a half litre carton of tomato soup.

  Bill looked at her spoils. ‘If you want to go to Cantaloupe again, be my guest, but you’re paying. Do you have any idea how many portions you’ve replicated? The ESC will think you’re meeting more than just me.’