THE FOREVER GENE (THE SCIONS OF EARTH Book 1)

by Dean, Warren

  She walked uphill towards the entrance to the school, inclining her head politely to passers-by. Whether or not they realised she was a sensory projection she couldn't tell. Uncharacteristically, most of them didn't return the greeting. They seemed pre-occupied, even morose. An older male, his long white hair hanging past his shoulders, was walking purposefully down the hill. Unobtrusively, she adjusted her path of travel so as to draw near to him as they passed each other. He gave no sign that he had noticed and did not acknowledge her. His inattention made it easy for her to concentrate on his aura. Along with a sense of his life-long occupation as a merchant, and the numerous experiences which came with his advanced age, she detected a deep-rooted anxiety. He feared that his comfortable existence was about to change and that he had no control over his future.

  Similar worries were perceptible within the auras of other pedestrians she encountered. Although she had been aware of this general unease before leaving on the expedition, she had not realised how pervasive it had become. She had been too focussed on events taking place in her own life. Given the uncertain future her people faced, however, its prevalence was not really surprising.

  When she reached the open gates of the school at the top of the hill, she turned to look out over the city. Shaped like a spill of honey from a jar, it glowed serenely in the soft yellow light of day. Glide-pods flew silently amongst its myriad spires, criss-crossing the city in intricate three-dimensional patterns. One of the little craft was flying up the hill and she turned to watch it pass by. As it grew closer, its stubby little stability fins grew visible, and she caught a brief glimpse of a green face staring out of the forward view-port.

  Why the humans continued to rely on resource guzzling metal monsters for their transport needs was beyond her comprehension. She was aware that they did not have the telekinetic ability which was used to propel the 'pods. Even so, they ought to have developed more efficient vehicles than they had so far. At least their air-vortex technology was a step in the right direction.

  Her gaze drifted further out. Swift rivers flowing out of the mountains on either side of the city joined each other at multiple points across the valley, forming a patchwork of ever larger streams of water. They eventually flowed into a wide green lake in the middle distance, from which a single waterway wound its way through the cultivated fields towards the coast. From her elevated position she could even see the green smudge of the ocean on the horizon, sandwiched between the dusky blue fields and hazy yellow sky.

  Now that she had reached her destination, she was suddenly uncertain about who to seek out. She was initially tempted to see which of her old classmates were still there, but that would result in the inevitable swapping of stories and re-living of shared experiences. As pleasant as that would be, the story she had to tell was not one which would fit comfortably into such a conversation.

  After some hesitation, she walked through the tall wooden gates, crossed the immaculately neat grounds, and threaded her way through the maze of corridors which led to the college of instructors on the other side of the campus. Not many scholars were about and she saw no-one that she knew. She made her way towards the rooms of her old mentor, Master Za, which were on the third tier of the college. She found a levitation-well and telekinetically powered a vacant levi-pod upwards with practised ease.

  She made her way down the corridor, casting about for his aura. She found it easily; it was one of the most recognisable in the city. He was in his contemplation room. When he wasn't teaching, he spent a great deal of time there in a temporary escape from his duties as head of the school. Before she reached the doorway he came out, accompanied by a male dressed in elegant grey-black robes.

  Grey-black: the colour worn by members of the Planetary Council. She stopped in her tracks and inclined her head as deferentially as she could. The two males ignored her as they finished their conversation, and she had the chance to examine their auras. She detected the same sense of anxiety as she had within the auras of the citizens outside. In the case of the councillor, it was very pronounced.

  "We regret having to add to your administrative burden," the councillor was saying. "The Ancient Council has assured us that a solution will be found, but there are no guarantees. So, we have resolved to take precautions. We cannot afford to lose the contents of your data banks."

  "I will begin the necessary preparations," said Master Za. "Now please excuse me, one of my scholars requires my attention."

  The councillor inclined his head fractionally and hurried away down the corridor, not sparing Vi so much as a glance.

  Her mentor stared wearily after the departing councillor for a moment and then looked at her. His eyes widened in recognition. "Well now, it's my best female scholar!" he exclaimed. He didn't need to complete the well-worn joke, that she was his only female scholar, to make her smile. "It is good to see you. I thought you were away exploring the stars." He examined her aura more closely. "Oh, I see, you are a sensory projection. Well, no matter, you are still here in a way. You must come in and tell me where you are and what you have been doing. I am always happy to see one of my scholars doing so well."

  His genuine delight at seeing her didn't mask the fatigue she detected within his aura. Although it hadn't been that long since she had seen him last, he looked much older than she remembered. Of course he was extremely old, even for one of their race, but the depth of his knowledge and experience had always made him seem constant and indestructible.

  Suddenly, she didn't want to spoil the moment by unburdening herself to him. One of his most endearing qualities was his sincere empathy with his scholars. She could almost visualise his face losing its smile at the sorry ending to her tale.

  "I'm sorry, I can't stay long. I found an opportunity to visit briefly and thought I would greet you before I have to go back. I just wanted to thank you for all of your support and instruction when I was here. It was only after I left that I began to appreciate how happy I am that you accepted me and how much I learned here."

  He beamed. Scholars did not usually take the trouble to return and thank their instructors once they had left their schooldays behind, and she could see that it meant a lot to him. She spent a short time satisfying his curiosity about the doings of the expedition and regaled him with interesting snippets of information gleaned from Earth. Before she left, she couldn't resist fishing for information about the conversation she had overheard.

  "Why is the Planetary Council taking such an interest in the school now?"

  He narrowed his eyes wryly. "It is only because it wants something from us, as always. It has resolved that all of our records should be copied and stored off planet. Apparently all of the institutions in the city have been given similar instructions. A star ship with the necessary processing capacity is to be sent here from Primefall for this purpose."

  She nodded. "Surely that is for the best in the circumstances?"

  "Of course it is, but the council does not allocate us the resources needed to undertake such a task. The school must expend its own. I would rather use what we have to improve school facilities. When I was young we had a research station which was the envy of the five planets. Over time it has been neglected to the point that it is now no more than an archive. Every time I propose restoring it to its former glory, I am frustrated by arguments that there are far more important projects to fund. But how are we to improve our understanding of other races when we no longer undertake the study of communication seriously?"

  She had heard this from him many times before. "To communicate with the future we need to understand the past," she said, knowing that this was what he would say next.

  He smiled. "At least I have been able to teach you something of value. Sometimes I think it is the only thing of value that I know."

  "Does the council believe that we..., that you will have to leave Azura?"

  "What the council believes is not clear any more. It does not appear to be in possession of all of the facts. Its decisions
have been growing less and less cohesive. And if the Ancient Council on Primefall is better informed, it has not deigned to share its wisdom with the rest of us."

  He sighed. "But I am sure that you did not come all the way here to be burdened with our problems."

  "Perhaps not, but although I am far away now, they are still my problems too."

  After a few pleasantries, she wished him farewell and terminated the projection. Virtual Azura vanished and she quickly instructed Emissary to relinquish the wormhole.

  Although it had been pleasant to go home again, the experience had been oddly unrewarding. It had left her feeling disconnected from everything she had known. Loneliness was something humans often complained of; a strange thing to encounter on such a crowded planet. Or so she had thought. The realisation that, during the genetic trial, she would have no-one but Ti to confide in gave her a new perspective on the subject.

  Impulsively, she activated a Personet connection and made a call to Mongolia.

  CHAPTER SIX

  So much had happened to Qara in the past two months, she didn't think anything could surprise her anymore. Then she received a call from Translator Vi. She had encountered the tall extra-terrestrial a number of times since their initial meeting on the slopes of Tsetseegun Uul. On each occasion their friendly rapport had grown. Even so, the invitation to accompany the translator on a trip to Boston in the United States was a surprise.

  She told Vi that there was not much chance of her channel releasing her right now. She was the flavour of the month; the most recognisable face on the Personet besides those of the Faerie Folk themselves. For weeks she had been broadcasting a daily feature directly from their facility in the forest. Still, although Vi hadn't told her the purpose of the proposed trip, it was an intriguing prospect. Nothing about it had appeared in the media yet and Vi asked her to keep the information secret. There was nothing like a good mystery to get a reporter interested.

  She decided to broach the subject with Tolui. He thought about it for a whole split second. "The Faerie Folk go to America," he said. He had this weird ability to think in Personet headlines. "I'll arrange it. You can leave tomorrow."

  "Yes, but don't forget that this is confidential," she reminded him. "I won't be able to report anything about it."

  He snorted. "It won't be confidential for long. You are going to America, where the newshound is king and no secret is safe. When the story breaks, we will already have you on the inside."

  He saw the uncertain look on her face. "Whatever the story is, you will be able to report it fairly and accurately. Would you rather leave it in the hands of whichever sensationalist hack happens to stumble across it?" He watched her expression change from uncertain to resolute. He was not used to managing reporters with scruples, but Qara was changing that. It was not usually very difficult where she was concerned. All he had to do was point her at an injustice, or even a potential injustice, and she took off like an arrow from a bow.

  "I'll tell Batu," she said and left the room.

  Her newly acquired celebrity status was a problem, however. Even if she disguised herself, there was a good chance she would be recognised. And then she would be a beacon for every reporter looking for a story with a Faerie Folk angle. At best, someone would make up a story which wasn't true. At worst, she would lead the newshounds straight to the true story, whatever that might be.

  Tol would have to concoct a cover story, a task made easier by the fact that he was one of those people who had friends everywhere. He contacted Paul Dobson, the editor of New York Modzine, a pulp download which focussed on all things topical. He had met Paul at a seminar they both attended some years ago. He proceeded to make the man an offer he couldn't refuse; the rights to some unreleased footage of the Faerie Folk. He told Paul that the material would be perfect for a pulp feature and couldn't resist suggesting some titles; 'The Faerie Folk So Far' or 'Meet the Folks'. As a clincher he offered to send his star reporter to New York to be interviewed for the feature.

  Dobson metaphorically snatched his hand off. When asked why Mongolia Today did not do the feature itself, Tol explained that the channel wanted to boost its profile in the west, and that sending Qara to America to be interviewed by an American e-zine would help accomplish that.

  After making the arrangements for her to fly to New York, he contacted another friend and asked him to leak the newly constructed cover story to the LA Globe. A big news channel in Los Angeles, its intrepid reporters would jump at the chance to break the story, unwittingly giving it a massive dose of credibility. Qara would have to endure a media circus for a couple of days but, once the sensation ran out of steam, she could quietly head north to Boston.

  Unfortunately, she would have to leave Batu behind as his presence would not fit her cover.

  Qara called Vi to tell her of the plan.

  "When you are ready to leave New York, send me a signal on this 'link and someone will collect you and bring you to me," the translator said enigmatically.

  Everything Tol predicted came to pass. When she landed in New York, a news crew from the Globe was waiting for her. By the time she got to the Modzine interview the next day, she had attracted a veritable entourage of reporters. The most popular theory to explain her presence was, of course, that the Faerie Folk were coming to America. She simply said that her channel had sent her to give an interview and otherwise kept her head down.

  Paul Dobson was suitably impressed by the material she had brought and conducted the interview himself. It aired live on the Personet and, the purpose of her visit having been revealed, the media interest in her quickly waned. There were one or two conspiracy theorists who postulated that the real reason for her visit was being covered up, but no-one took them too seriously.

  After the interview, Qara sent the pre-arranged signal to Vi's 'link. The next day, she received a message telling her to take a bullet-line to Ozone Park, east of the City. Leaving most of her luggage at her hotel so as not to arouse suspicion, she caught the train and spent the journey wondering whether or not she was being followed. If the spy movies she was fond of watching were anything to go by, every second person in her carriage was acting suspiciously.

  When she arrived at the designated stop she waited until the last minute before jumping off the train and then turned to see if anyone else did the same. No-one seemed to take the slightest interest in her. Sheepishly, she followed a group of passengers out of the station and then stopped, uncertain of her next move.

  "Ma'am?" said a polite voice at her elbow, making her jump. She turned to see a thin, dark-haired man in a black chauffer's uniform. "My name is Carlo; I am here to drive you to your destination." He led her towards a black limousine and opened the back door for her. She hesitated.

  "Ma'am, your friend told me to assure you that the seats in this car won't automatically mould themselves to fit you," he said. His expression showed that he didn't understand what that meant and he looked relieved when she laughed and got into the car. He drove around aimlessly for a while, presumably to see whether any curious reporters were following her, before heading east on the Long Island Expressway.

  Having familiarised herself with the geography of the area before she left home, she grew concerned again when she realised that they were not heading towards Boston. Carlo must have noticed her anxious expression. The darkly tinted chauffer's window behind him slid silently downwards.

  "Don't worry, ma'am, your friend is not in Boston itself. She is at my employer's house on Shelter Island in Gardiner's Bay. We should be there in about half an hour." The window slid silently back into position.

  She sat back and tried to relax. The chauffer seemed genuine and it made sense for Vi to be staying in a secluded location rather than in the middle of a city. She watched the well-manicured towns and villages of Long Island go by, their beautiful old wooden houses sheltered from the Atlantic gales by stands of tall maple trees. Later she began to catch glimpses of the deep blue waters and cold, stony
beaches of the bays and sounds leading to Shelter Island.

  They eventually reached the small town of Greenport, where Carlo drove slowly through the streets and directly onto the Shelter Island ferry. As soon as they were aboard, the ramp lifted and the ferry left the dock. There were no other passengers on board and she got the impression that it had been waiting specifically for them.

  The crossing took no more than fifteen minutes. Carlo drove the limousine off the ferry into the even smaller town of Shelter Island Heights and then skirted the sparkling waters of Dering Harbour. She couldn't help but marvel at the scores of pristine white yachts criss-crossing the bay. It suddenly occurred to her that the ferry ride was the first time she had ever been on a boat.

  The car turned inland and crossed over to the eastern coast of the island. Carlo pulled up outside a beautifully kept country house overlooking the wide sweep of Gardiner's Bay. The double storey house was L-shaped, and its pale lilac wooden walls were set off by whitewashed window frames and roof eaves. The whole building was skirted by a covered wooden boardwalk framed by whitewashed balustrades. Each of the windows of the second storey was underlined by its own secluded balcony.

  She stepped out of the car to be met by a young woman who introduced herself as Rebecca Salmon, the manageress of the house. Rebecca signed her in and then showed her to a bedroom suite on the upper storey of the longer wing. She swept open the curtains, gave Qara directions to the dining room so that she could find her way there when she was ready, and then bustled out.

  Left to settle in, Qara didn't waste any time. She was anxious to get to the bottom of things, and simply washed her face and hands before setting off for the dining room. She deliberately took a few wrong turns so that she could have a look around. The upper storey of the longer wing housed a number of elegantly decorated bedroom suites. On the ground floor was a kitchen and state of the art medical facility. The ground floor of the shorter wing was taken up by a dining room and lounge, with a beautifully appointed spa and gymnasium on the floor above. Outside the main doors of the dining room was a wooden deck, from which a set of stairs led downwards onto a jetty jutting out into the bay.