Trojan Gene: The Awakening

by Ben Onslow

  “Jacob can look after himself,” says Fitzgerald. “But with any luck, we’ll have it sorted by the time he gets out.”

  Ela hands him back the piece of paper she’s holding. “So your friend thinks Vincent is dangerous?” she asks.

  Fitzgerald nods. “Yes. Leave him to us from now on.”

  “He’s all yours.” I say, standing up. Not likely, I think.

  We get outside.

  “Are you up for a bit of forgery?” I say to Ela.

  “Why?”

  “While Fitzgerald is dealing with Vincent, we need to slow the Willises down and buy some time. We can’t let them get anywhere near the Vault, especially now with Joe and Lucinda there.”

  “I don’t know.” Ela gets in the Land Rover. “How?”

  I get in the other side, pull the door shut.

  “When the Willises come to talk to Jacob on Friday, I’ll make sure it is me they talk to, and I’ll give them the map of where to find the Vault.”

  “What map is that?”

  I turn the key, start the Land Rover.

  “The one we are going to make.”

  “So, how will that work?”

  “If they come after Jacob on Friday or Saturday, they’ll find me, and I’ll offer them a deal. They get the map if they let me into their scheme.”

  “Why are they going to do that?”

  I pull out onto the road, while I’m thinking, then list all the reasons I can come up with.

  “I’ll explain to them I know what they’re doing and I’ll tell on them if they don’t cut me in. They should go for it. I’ll even offer to take them straight to where the Vault is.”

  “What are you going to do then?”

  “Stall and hope Fitzgerald’s thought of something. But if we draw a map that takes them away from the waterfall, it should keep them busy for weeks,” I say as we go along the road.

  “Draw a map?” Ela sounds pretty sceptical.

  “Think about it, we’ve got the plans, so we know what the map should look like. You’ve done art at school, I did CAD. We make a fake map.”

  “Is this a real plan?” Ela tucks a bit of hair behind her ears.

  “It’s for real.”

  “Okay.” She still sounds pretty doubtful. “Isn’t CAD done on a computer. Are we just making a NavMap?”

  I consider the idea; dismiss it. “No. They probably know it would be on paper, the Vault design is.”

  We park in a space near the Nostalgia shop, walk in, go past the books, magazines and novelties, and stop at the back where the art and craft supplies are stored. I ruffle through the piles of paper looking for something that has the right texture and weight.

  I pick up a block of watercolour paper.

  “What about this?”

  Ela runs her hand over it and then lifts up a sheet.

  “It’s too thick.” She picks up the sketch book beside it. “This is better.”

  “Yep.” I run my hand over the surface of the top page in the sketch pad. “If we fold it a few times, dirty up the edges, it should look right. A bit like the journal.” I pick up the pad and put it under my arm, find a fine point pen.

  “Do you know anything about these?”

  “I used one years ago.”

  “Okay, we’ll have two of those too, and one of these.”

  I add a scale rule and put it with the sketch pad.

  “Where are we going to do this?” Ela asks.

  “At home. There are some survey maps in the study that will help us. Dad kept records of what he found when he was looking for gold on the mountain.”

  We arrive at the pub. I let Mon off his chain and go inside. Ela is standing by the dining room table, trying to open the packaging around one of the pens. She bites the side and tries to rip it apart. “I can’t work out why they used to make the packaging so difficult to open.”

  “Intelligence test,” I say.

  “Just failed.” Ela pulls a chair out and sits down to try out the pen.

  I watch her practice for a while, then go and get the CAD drawings and a couple of survey maps from the study.

  “See if you can make it like Dad’s drawing. It doesn’t have to be perfect; just something close.”

  Ela tries to copy the drawing. “It’s too black,” she says.

  “Doesn’t matter. The Willises won’t notice.”

  She keeps going until it looks about right.

  “Not bad.”

  “It might pass, if the paper looked older.”

  We spend a while looking at ways to age the paper and soften the colour of the ink so it looks faded.

  When it’s good, I spread out Dad’s maps. First we need a site that is near a creek and can be got to by walking along the river bank. By using the map, the notes and what we know of the area, we find a creek on the way to Dickey’s Flat.

  “This will do. You have to go through a tunnel, but there’s no reason that would make them suspicious.”

  We study it all a bit. Then using the topographical maps of the area as a guide, I sketch an outline onto the paper and show the site we’ve chosen. I write the notes and instructions. After we have bleached the writing and stained the whole area with tea then dried it with Patsy’s hair drier, it’s starting to look the way we imagined a map made and used by Dad might look. We do it again and again. By the time we’ve finished the sixth map, we have it right.

  “A few folds and smudges and we’re there.” Ela folds and unfolds the map.

  Not bad for a couple of amateurs.

  “I think we should go to the place we’ve chosen,” says Ela. “I’d feel better if we weren’t just guessing what’s there.”

  “Okay.” I put my arm around Ela’s shoulders and walk her up the hallway and out the front door.

  “You’re enjoying this,” says Ela. “It’s your idea of fun.”

  She isn’t wrong. Double crossing the Willises has its appeal; can’t wait to see their faces when they find me not Jacob, at the farm. I wait for Mon to get into the back, shut the door, and get into the driver’s side.

  “We’re just setting a trap for some vermin,” I say as I start the motor.

  “Huh.” Sometimes even Ela is stuck for words.

  We drive to Dickey’s Flat, at the Waihi end of the gorge, and turn right onto a tar sealed road. It has farmland on both sides. As we drive along the road gets narrower, winds around corner after corner. Then it’s just a track winding its way through the dense bush.

  I park by some huge boulders at the entrance to the Dickey’s Flat Camping Ground. No one is camping, but it has been used recently. The rubbish bin is overflowing with beer cans and bottles. I haven’t been here for years. It used to be the place kids went for parties and night time swimming. I’d say from the mess it’s still a place for parties.

  Ela helps me unload and Mon stands quietly beside us waiting. The river murmurs in the background. Ela carries the shovel, and I put on the pack filled with the rest of the stuff we need and get the pick. We go across the grass on an angle to the old swing bridge and down the curved ramp that gets us back on the track. After a few metres, I turn into the bush and push through a stand of manuka near the tunnel at the end of the walkway.

  “We could have parked at the carpark and walked along the walkway,” Ela says.

  “Not many people go for a walk carrying a shovel and a pick,” I point out. Ela’s struggling to get between the trees without tangling the shovel in the branches. I take it off her. It just gives her more energy to talk.

  “It’s beautiful here, with the three waterfalls and the water flowing through the second tunnel.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I used to come here with friends,” says Ela.

  Who didn’t? It’s the biggest party place in town.

  “We’d go through the tunnel and swim in the swimming hole whenever I was staying with Jacob.”

  We walk further along, pushing our way through the bush.

  “How far a
re we going?” she asks.

  “Only a couple of hundred metres. We’ll come across a creek soon and then follow it up until we find the best spot to dig.”

  We walk until we come to the small creek. The water bounces and sparkles over the rocks, swirling around the muddy banks. We cross it and then start to make our way through the bush; sometimes we are on the bank and sometimes have to wade. Every now and then the water drops over a ledge creating a small waterfall. At first there’s nothing that looks like a clearing we can use, but after the third fall we come across a small opening and flat area.

  “This is it,” I say.

  Ela looks around.

  “It’s not as nice as the original.”

  She walks to the creek and looks down at the drop. “It’s a pathetic waterfall.”

  “I think it’ll work.” I take off the pack and put it down beside the tools.

  We walk around the small clearing and choose a spot near the rock face. There’s a slight curve that could be described as a cave if you used your imagination.

  Once the hollow has been cleared of branches, I attack it with the pick. The cliff is decayed so it’s easy to break up – not the solid rock it could have been. I break the stone and Ela shovels until we have created a hollow about half a metre deep and a metre wide.

  “What do you think?” I ask.

  “It’s way smaller than the cave in front of the Vault.” Ela is leaning on the shovel recovering.

  “We can get away with it. We’re only trying to convince them they’ve found the entrance. They don’t know how big the cave is anyway,” I say. “We’ll build a cairn and that should give us a bit of camouflage.”

  Ela helps me make a stack of rocks in front of the cave.

  “It’s like one of those punishments they used to use.” Ela throws a few rocks on top. “Dig a hole, fill it up.” She stands back and looks at what we’ve done.

  “I don’t know.” She wipes the side of her mouth and leaves a streak of dirt.

  I’m down on my hands and knees trying to make the area look like it hasn’t been disturbed. “It’s good.”

  “Maybe you should bring them here at night, or pray for rain. It all looks too new to me,” Ela says.

  “It’ll settle.” I try to convince myself.

  Ela adds another few stones. It isn’t perfect but then the Willises don’t know what to expect. I think it’ll pass. It’s not like they’re rocket scientists.

  27.

  Pub

  Monday 20th Feb 2051

  8:40 p.m.

  Ela and I are curled up on the couch together. We’ve got a Vid going on the screen. Bloody Humicrib babies march across the sea again. But we’re not really watching. We’re a bit tired. Not much sleep last night with the whole rescuing Lucinda thing. The fake map and fake site took all morning. We did a bit of work at the farm in the afternoon. Checked on Joe and Lucinda and took them some food. Lucinda was still asleep and Joe was acting real protective. Somehow seeing them again just waiting there made it all seem worse.

  Now it’s after dinner and all I can think about is, what if what happened to Joe and Lucinda happened to me and Ela. If Jacob’s right about Ela, it could. I can’t imagine being in Joe’s place. Ela taken away, having that done to her by Vector, then finding her bleeding and weak in the infirmary.

  Every now and then one of us says something about Joe or Lucinda, like Ela can’t think of anything else either.

  And I’m keeping an ear out for Patsy. It’s still not a great idea for her to find us curled up together like this.

  “Have you heard from your mum?” I ask Ela.

  “Why?”

  “Two weeks will be over soon. When’s she coming back?”

  “She’s back on Saturday,” says Ela. “I won’t be here for your birthday.”

  Then Ela gets a Txt. Moves away a bit. Hauls the Com out of her pocket and starts to read the message.

  I guess the Txt is from that Amon again. He’s kept Txting her the whole time she’s been here, and now she’s started answering the Txts instead of just deleting them.

  I take her Com off her, and read the Txt out to her.

  See you soon

  “Don’t read my Txts.” Ela tries to take the Com back. I hold it high so she can’t.

  When she gives up, I scroll through backwards – read a few of the past Txts.

  Nearly all I’m sorry or Where are you? type Txts.

  Then I come to a different one.

  At the Tri. Dad forgot the synicarbs. Wish I had my support crew.

  I read it out to Ela. “What’s that mean?” I ask, holding the Com high and away from her again so she can’t get to it.

  “He does triathlons. It was his final chance to get into the national squad.”

  I read the next Txt out.

  You’re fit. Eat bananas, she Txted back.

  Amon came back with, You know I don’t like bananas. Wish me luck.

  Good luck. That was Ela.

  Now Ela’s kneeling on the couch, leaning across me trying to get the thing.

  “He’s not very romantic.” I still hold the Com so Ela can’t reach it.

  “Don’t read my Txts,” says Ela again, really cross this time, still trying to get the Com off me. “Anyway it wasn’t like that. I was his training partner. But because I’m a girl I could only be the support crew at the competitions; just hold his HoverBike, pass him the drink bottle, cheer him on.”

  “I thought it was all Sweet and Elite for you lot?”

  “Amon doesn’t mind that I can run. He doesn’t mind if I’m as fast as he is,” she says.

  I bet. Who would be that single-minded, sending Txts all the time for two whole weeks if he just thought she was his training partner? That’s not what he thinks. And the Txt he’s just sent says, See you soon.

  “Persistent bugger isn’t he?” I slide my thumb across the screen and bring up the keyboard. “I’ll answer it for you.”

  “No you won’t.” Ela manages to snatch the Com back. She starts tapping away at the screen.

  I check the time on my Com. Patsy will be a bit longer. I still haven’t been to see Jacob. Ela called in on him earlier; said he seemed all right. Said she didn’t tell him about rescuing Lucinda. She’s got some sense.

  Ela looks up from her Txting and sees me look at the time. “You’d better move now,” she says.

  “Why?”

  “Patsy’s due and you’ll pretend you’re still just the baby sitter.”

  I take her at her word and move away from her, to the end of the couch.

  “What do you expect me to do?” I ask.

  “You could behave normally. You could visit Jacob with me. You could act like you like me when you are around your mother. You could stop acting like you think you’re doing something wrong.”

  Ela carries on answering the Txt.

  I sit there with my elbows on my knees, Com in my hands and consider her. Decide to explain a few facts of life.

  “Mum’s not the only one who’s going to think it’s wrong. Most people will, and even you aren’t too sure.”

  “That’s not true,” says Ela.

  “Of course it is. You’re Elite. I’m just breeding stock.”

  “You know that’s not true,” she says.

  “That’s the way it looks. And you keep answering those Txts.”

  “I’m just being polite,” she says, Com still in her hand.

  I nod at the Com.

  “You sure you’re not just keeping your options open?”

  “Are you jealous?”

  I ignore that. “When are you going home?”

  “Saturday,” she says.

  “And you go back to your own life.” I look at my Com again. Only a few minutes until Patsy arrives.

  I’ve been foul all day. I figure its Joe and Lucinda.

  “You know I can’t stay,” says Ela, still tapping away.

  “So you’re going back?”

  I look
at my Com again. Mum arriving in the middle of us arguing about this isn’t a good idea either.

  Ela shakes her head, like I’m just being annoying now. “I don’t have any choice. But from now on I can visit Jacob a lot,” she says.

  Like that’s some compensation.

  “And Txt. Maybe some ComMails?” I say real sarcastic. “Or we both could get an ImageMaker, send some Holograms.”

  “I don’t have any choice. I have to go home. Mum had to get a special dispensation for me to come here in the first place.” Nobody ever stays. “I’m just a kid,” says Ela.

  “You had me fooled.” I look up at the VidScreen. Fields of Genus 6 scroll by. There are several things in my world that are irritating at the moment. Those bloody Humicrib babies bumbling across the screen again for one.

  Next I’ll get the speech about staying friends and keeping in contact.

  “You’re being unreasonable,” says Ela instead. She stands up. “I’m going to bed.”

  I ignore her. I can’t believe she is planning on leaving me and going back to that Txter Amon.

  Ela stops by the door.

  “We could stay at Jacob’s tomorrow night,” she says, sort of tentative.

  “How?” I ask, not particularly nicely.

  “You could tell Patsy that Jacob is coming home tomorrow and we have to look after him.” Ela is standing there by the door, hesitant.

  “You want me to lie to my mother?” I ask still grumpy.

  “You’ve done it before.”

  “When?”

  She laughs as she goes out the door, gives me the slow fade. “He doesn’t want to lie to his mother.” She walks slowly up the passageway. “And I remember him doing it a couple of times,” she says. “I’m sure I heard him say he wouldn’t drink a few nights ago. Then we have to wait until he sobers up. And then there was ‘I’m just looking after her like Jacob wanted me to’, and he knows Jacob wouldn’t agree with the way he is looking after me now.”

  She goes into her bedroom and shuts the door.

  Smart arse.

  I lie in bed, and think it through. Ela’s plan to spend the night at Jacob’s is going to blow up in our faces. For some reason adults think there’s a big difference between staying out late, and staying out all night. And Patsy’s not stupid; she has to know things have changed between Ela and me. But I don’t see any reason to rub her nose in it.