by Eliza Green
She diverted attention to Lisa. ‘What about the ships, Lisa?’
The team looked at their colleague.
Julie gave her a discreet nod that the others didn’t see. Laura released a tiny breath.
‘The passenger ships. Is it possible that the passengers arriving here are being recruited for these groups?’
‘It’s possible. Check that out,’ said Laura.
She hadn’t considered that avenue but fresh bodies and minds would be too tempting to pass on. She and Bill had been at the docking station just yesterday, too preoccupied with Ben Watson’s arrival. Were the groups recruiting from Earth? Had they used the ships to ferry their people to Exilon 5? Plenty of criminals with a desire to escape Earth would jump at the chance to join a fight.
‘Do we know where the group from the recent ship went?’
Julie checked her DPad. ‘Straight to the processing centres. They were assigned work based on their skills and taken to the safe houses.’
‘It’s possible these safe houses are a cover for a recruiting drive.’ Laura paced the room. ‘Can someone pull up the manifest for the last ship please?’
‘I can,’ said Julie.
She hit a few buttons on her pad and set the device in the middle of the table. She pulled the image out with two fingers and the manifest, listed in alphabetical order, rotated three-sixty degrees.
Laura stopped pacing and read it. ‘Does anyone recognise the names on that list?’
Ben Watson’s name was at the bottom.
Julie pointed to a name. ‘This guy used to be a ship engineer, and this woman worked in tech.’
Laura nodded. ‘Good, it’s a start.’
Julie shook her head. ‘No, you don’t understand; the emphasis is on “used to”. They’re both dead.’ She tapped the names again and brought up images of both men. ‘These two are travelling under false names using the identity of dead men. And if they are—’
‘Then others are too.’ Laura stared at the photos of the supposedly dead travellers. One was of a man called Martin Casey. The other travelling under the name John Caldwell was a face she’d never forget. ‘Harvey Buchanan.’
Shit.
‘Who’s Harvey Buchanan?’ said Julie.
‘Someone who was a big deal on Earth.’ Laura had to tell Bill. ‘Locate his chatter on the Wave and we’ll find the head of the splinter group. And be careful. Use your fake identities to lurk. This man is dangerous.’
Laura ended the meeting and took the stairs two at a time to the sixth floor. She entered the partitioned space. The evenly spaced desks and chairs allowed no free movement, unlike her open-plan space.
She offered good mornings as she walked through the space to the back of the room where Bill’s office stood, with four solid walls and a closed door. Bill had always preferred privacy over intrusion. But Laura had spent too long working in a tiny booth in the ESC that offered no interaction. For communications to work best, Laura relied on collaboration.
She knocked on his door, just like any other employee. Bill owed her no favours and she would never take them.
‘Enter!’ he said gruffly, his distracted tone permeating through the solid wood.
She opened the door and he lifted his hard gaze from the monitor to her. Then it softened.
‘Close the door and come here.’
With her DPad in one hand, Laura stood behind Bill’s chair. A drone shot of the environ belonging to the GS 100 was on screen. The image was overlaid with schematics from Anton showing the highest concentration of gamma rock.
‘Tanya wasn’t lying about the concentration of gamma rock. She’s using it to amplify something.’
‘The power from the grid. She already said as much,’ said Laura. ‘Can’t we just give them a monitored allowance?’
‘Not without compromising our own supply.’ Bill tapped the screen twice with his finger. ‘Besides, I want to know why she really wants it.’
‘They want it to heal. I sensed that much from Tanya. From Simon I learned the Elite are in a bad way and will not stand more genetic experiments done to them. It’s possible they want to strengthen their bodies to continue with the experiments. A powerful mind in a weak body is not a good outcome for them.’
‘They’ve gone through all these experiments, why—to live longer in a body that will eventually die?’ Bill shook his head. ‘Tanya doesn’t aim low. There’s more to her request, I can feel it.’ He glanced at the DPad in her hand. ‘Did you find out something?’
Laura nodded and pulled up Harvey Buchanan’s photo from his identity chip. ‘I did and you won’t like it.’
She turned the DPad around and Bill released a breath. ‘Shit, I thought he was dead.’
‘With facial manipulation and stolen identity chips, who knows any more?’
The man who’d created false identities for Bill and Laura eight years ago when they needed to travel to Exilon 5, who’d almost killed them to gain their knowledge of replica identity chips, was on Exilon 5.
‘What’s he doing here?’
Laura sat on the edge of the desk. Bill rubbed the back of her leg.
‘We think he’s got connections with whoever is running the main splinter group out of West London. People have arrived on the ships travelling under false identities. We think the groups might have brought people here, or at least targeted people coming off the ships. Then Harvey Buchanan turns up, travelling under a false name.’
‘Where did he go?’
‘Assigned to a construction job in the west quarter. That can’t be a coincidence. We’ve never looked into these safe houses before. I think we should now.’
Bill stroked her leg with his thumb. ‘Who’s the foreman in charge there?’
Laura checked her DPad. ‘Ollie Patterson.’
‘Can we arrange a meeting with this Ollie, tell him we want to talk?’
Laura didn’t like the sound of that. ‘You want to negotiate with terrorists?’
‘They haven’t done anything yet, love. They’ve been passive until now.’
‘A quiet group is never idle, Bill.’
They’d both seen the repercussions of their own government’s silent operations. They’d ended with a bloody battle with the Indigenes.
‘I agree, but what if we meet them on neutral ground?’ said Bill. ‘If we can offer them something small, they might share what they know about Tanya’s plans. If they know anything at all.’
Laura stood up. ‘Of course they know something. Harvey’s with them. Now you want us, you and me, to meet with a potential terrorist? What if something goes wrong?’
Bill stood too and grabbed her hands. His confidence sent a tickle up her spine and drew her closer to his foolish plan.
‘It has to be just us, love. We don’t know for sure if Harvey’s involved, but this Ollie Patterson definitely won’t agree to talk if we go in there with numbers. Besides, we have your Indigene abilities to help us if anything happens.’
Her skills wouldn’t stop a Buzz Gun blast or a bullet. But maybe the manifestation of deceit as a separate black shadow would give them an advantage. She’d only use her skill as a last resort.
Laura squeezed his shoulder and smiled. She would not saddle him with more worry.
‘I’ll get Julie on it and have her set up a meeting for later.’
She left his office knowing that after this meeting, she needed to face her personal problem head on. Was she human or Indigene?
Stuck between two identities, she felt as if she belonged to neither.
13
Bill received word from Laura about Julie’s success in contacting Ollie Patterson. She had arranged a meeting for him at 9pm that evening in the disused biodome on the edge of New London.
‘There’s just one condition,’ said Laura.
‘What’s that?’
‘It has to be just you.’
He leaned back in his chair. ‘That’s fine.’
‘No, it’s not. You’re n
ot going in alone.’
‘Laura, love, this is how these things work. These people are a secretive bunch. They won’t want an audience.’
Laura paced the room. ‘Maybe I can stay close, keep an eye on things.’
While Laura’s skills would prove useful, he’d changed his mind about her going. ‘No. He’s not going to do anything to me. He needs me. And he might not show up if I bring you.’
Laura stopped pacing. She didn’t look convinced. ‘When it was both of us going, I was fine with the idea. But just you? I don’t like it. It could be a trap. A group followed us last night on our way to meet Simon. What makes you think this Ollie Patterson will come alone? He’ll probably bring backup with him.’
Bill didn’t see what other choice he had. They needed more information on the splinter groups and the GS 100. If there was even a slim chance he could learn something new from this meeting, he had to risk it.
‘Last night was different. You said the Indigenes who watched didn’t want us. They were there to observe only.’
Laura leaned over a seated Bill. She fussed with his jacket, straightened his tie. ‘At least let me tell Stephen.’
‘No, love. Stephen is worse than you for worrying. He’ll only order a troop to follow. If this Ollie has Indigenes working with him, they’ll detect if there’s more than just me.’
Her hands stilled on his tie. ‘So that’s it? We just accept these meeting conditions with no safeguard?’
Bill sighed. ‘What else can we do?’
Laura’s expression brightened. She smiled and let go. ‘What about Serena? She could influence those who work for this Patterson character into keeping quiet about her presence.’
Bill hadn’t thought of Serena. It could work, and the idea of meeting this Ollie Patterson alone didn’t appeal to him.
‘Okay, but only she can come. Stephen needs to stay out of this.’
Laura looked relieved. She checked her watch. ‘It’s 8.30pm now. If I run I’ll make it in twenty. That will give her ten minutes to get there. She’s fast. She won’t need that long.’
‘I thought you didn’t like to use your abilities.’
His wife’s face darkened a fraction as she walked to the door. ‘Only in emergencies.’
She disappeared from his office and the vacant, sixth-floor space so fast he almost missed it. While he’d picked up on the edge to her mood that struck whenever he mentioned her abilities, Stephen had warned she needed to embrace that side of her. If she didn’t, she could risk getting stuck between her human and Indigene identities. Stephen had said he’d seen her conflict, most recently when they’d met with the underground operatives under both Bill and Stephen’s command. But how could he broach the subject with Laura when she kept changing the conversation?
He idled in his office for the twenty minutes Laura had said it would take for her to reach Serena. While he waited he ran a search on Ollie Patterson. Little information came back on him and there was no photo on file. The name was probably an alias anyway. Bill expected the supposed head of the splinter human group in New London to bring with him a list of demands.
Next, he pulled up Harvey Buchanan’s photo. The image of a man with sandy hair, a piercing gaze and a faint smile looked back at him. Bill had known Buchanan on Earth during his days as investigator. Bill had brought down a leading figure in technology manipulation who happened to be a close colleague of Harvey’s. The move had damaged Harvey’s side business of selling failed prototypes from Nanoid valley to the seedy underworld.
But Harvey had also helped Bill and Laura gain passage to Exilon 5 to find Stephen when word about the captured Anton had dried up. In the same breath, Harvey had also betrayed them to their own government to help his cause. He was someone Bill would never trust.
With ten minutes to go till the meeting, Bill waved his security chip over the screen to lock it. He called his automated car on the way out and found it waiting for him by the kerb.
He climbed into the front seat and ignored his racing heart. ‘East London biodome.’
The car took the shortest route to the biodome, located on an old perimeter line of the city. It used to house animals before the ITF relocated them to heavily monitored habitats that could cater better for their growing numbers. Before the peace treaty, the Indigenes had hunted the animals close to extinction. A new one-kill-per-hunting-party rule gave the animals time to breed and replenish their stock.
The car pulled up outside the biodome that had been closed for more than a year. Bill got out and looked around the abandoned space with its high, chain-link fences and weed-covered path leading to the dome entrance. The dome itself, once bright and white, had lost its gleam under a thin layer of dirt.
ITF had used the biodome just yesterday to process the passengers off the last ship. Bill looked at the building that Harvey Buchanan may have been in as recently as then.
It was too dark to see anyone in the vicinity, but he knew how these meetings worked. Someone was watching.
He approached the locked facility that not long ago had buzzed with his people. But the place was not a regular ITF haunt and a man like Ollie probably knew that.
Had Serena arrived yet? Just knowing she would come put his mind at ease. He would never see her though. Serena was the master of illusion.
He reached for the handle just as the door opened. A man with long, brown hair tied back in a ponytail and glasses greeted him.
‘Bill Taggart. I recognise you from the news feeds. Glad you took my advice and came alone.’
News feeds? There was probably a whole file on him.
‘I said I would. Ollie Patterson, I presume?’
‘The one and only. Come in.’
The eerie quiet of the abandoned building made the hairs on the back of Bill’s neck stand up. He hated being penned in. And although he couldn’t see anyone else, his skin prickled with the feeling they were not alone.
Maybe he’d been hanging around Stephen for too long. Or maybe he’d always been a paranoid bastard and would remain that way until he dropped dead.
He followed Patterson to the main room, where he saw a trestle table at the back of the room. Two chairs to the front of the table faced each other.
‘Take a seat, Bill.’ Patterson motioned to the chair and took the other one. ‘Were you expecting more than just me?’
Bill sat down. ‘The fact it looks like we’re alone doesn’t mean anything.’
Patterson laughed. ‘I forgot what you used to do, Investigator. Director of the ITF on a peaceful planet must be a real step down for you.’
‘It has its moments. Where people exist, opportunity and deceit usually follow.’
Patterson touched a hand to his heart. ‘Is that what you think our group is—opportunistic and deceitful?’
Bill leaned forward. ‘Yeah, I’d say that sums you up.’
‘So you think the peace treaty works?’
‘It keeps the cities in check.’
Patterson smiled. ‘And the Indigenes.’
‘We all have to follow rules.’
Patterson paused for a moment. ‘But the treaty appears to weigh more in the Indigene’s favour than ours.’
The Indigenes had certain perks, but nothing that tipped the scale in their favour. It was a small demand, given how humans had almost wiped them out. Bill didn’t see how their concessions affected someone like Ollie.
‘The peace treaty favours both Indigenes and humans.’
Patterson crossed his legs and rested one arm on the table. ‘I assume you know the Indigenes hunt outside of their hunting zones, which is in direct violation of the treaty?’
Bill nodded. ‘As long as it doesn’t affect the one-kill-per-group rule, I have no issue with that.’
‘Of course it matters!’ Patterson grunted. ‘They’re breaking the rules, testing the boundaries of what they can get away with. And for the record, the kills are sometimes two or three.’
Animal welfare felt too low
a concern for Patterson. What did he really want?
‘Are you sure the Indigenes killed all the animals? Man has a history of hunting. Meat is expensive in the cities. Those animals can fetch a fair price. Maybe you find it easy to use the Indigenes as scapegoats for bad human behaviour.’
Patterson examined his nails. ‘The Indigenes have confirmed to me that they broke the rules on purpose. And the humans I represent don’t like having to tiptoe around their own land. God forbid we should go where the hell we like.’
‘And yet you engage with Indigenes of your own free will.’
Patterson locked Bill in a stare. ‘A business arrangement that benefits both sides. And now the GS humans are making a nuisance of themselves. What do they want, a piece of the action?’
Bill released a small breath. He had thought he’d have to coax Patterson more to talk about them.
‘What dealings have you had with the GS 100?’
‘None. We keep our distance.’ Patterson uncrossed his legs and leaned forward. ‘Did you know they’ve built an environ just beyond their caves?’
‘Yes. Do you know why?’
Simon had already told him its purpose but Bill wanted to know what Patterson had heard.
‘I know as much as you, I’d imagine. You probably know I’m the foreman for the construction site in the west quarter.’ Bill nodded. ‘Some of our stored materials were stolen recently. My men and I fear the day the GS 100 come looking for more than materials and equipment. We need to protect ourselves.’
‘Protect?’
‘Yeah, weapons, Bill. Whatever you can spare. We’ve heard the rumours of what the GS 100 like to eat.’
Bill leaned back, curious to know Patterson’s real agenda and how Harvey Buchanan fit in to this. ‘I can assign troops to protect you while you work.’
Patterson shook his head. ‘They won’t be there twenty-four-seven. We must protect ourselves round the clock.’
Patterson’s rejection of his offer didn’t surprise Bill. ‘Sounds like you expect a war.’
‘Sometimes we do.’ Patterson released a slow breath that felt for show. ‘We’re vulnerable on that build site, isolated from the city. But what would you know about it in your ivory ITF tower, protected from such attacks? Your offer means nothing to us. We need weapons to show the GS 100 that we are not sitting ducks.’