Genesis Lie (Genesis Book 2)

by Eliza Green

  A door opened. A stream of light brightened one corner of the room.

  The extra light showed Susan the actual size of the room, which wasn’t as big as she’d previously thought. The light disappeared. Two pairs of heels clacked on the hard floor. The altered sound in the room made it impossible to tell what direction they walked.

  Robbie grinned. ‘I told you calling out would work.’

  ‘Check on the others,’ said one female. ‘Make sure none of the units have been compromised,’

  ‘Straight away, Doctor.’ A second female walked off in another direction.

  The first woman stopped at the base of their unit. ‘MOUSE, bring them down to my level.’

  A tinny voice replied: ‘As you wish, Doctor.’

  Somewhere in the background, a machine whirred and the row Susan, Joel and Robbie were in turned until Susan’s feet touched the ground.

  ‘How many are awake this time?’ said the doctor. She stood before them with a DPad in hand.

  Susan stiffened as she recognised the doctor’s face.

  ‘Just three, Doctor.’

  ‘Is that all?’ She sounded disappointed. ‘There are thousands here. Why just three, MOUSE?’

  ‘These three are genetically closest to each other. They’re also showing a positive reaction to the genetic material I’ve been administering.’

  That solved the mystery of the green tube.

  The doctor frowned at her DPad. ‘What number is this batch again?’

  ‘Fifty-two.’

  ‘Note that on the file and let’s get started.’

  Susan looked Caroline Finnegan over. She wore her usual white lab coat, and her reddish-brown hair was pulled back into a low ponytail.

  ‘My name is Doctor Caroline Finnegan,’ she said, not looking up from the DPad. ‘I apologise for the conditions you’re being kept in. I hope you’re comfortable.’ Her speech was a rehearsed one. The doctor maintained a clinical detachment from her subjects; Susan was familiar with the tactic. Caroline glanced up at Robbie, then back at her DPad.

  ‘I can’t speak for the others, but I’m not comfortable,’ said Susan. ‘How long are we to be kept prisoners?’

  Caroline’s head jerked up. Her eyes had widened, but she found her voice. ‘You’re not prisoners.’

  ‘Then why the restraints, doctor?’ said Susan. ‘Remove them and these tubes from our arms. Then let us go.’

  A visibly rattled Caroline shook her head. ‘You know I can’t do that. You will be released shortly.’

  ‘And how soon is that?’ said Joel.

  Caroline rubbed her forehead, as if stalling for time. Or maybe she was starting to see sense.

  ‘Careful, Dr Finnegan,’ said MOUSE. ‘The female patient is registering increased levels of adrenaline. Her heart rate has also spiked.’

  ‘Thank you, MOUSE.’ Caroline addressed Susan. ‘It’s not possible to remove your restraints or tubes at this time.’ She sounded almost remorseful. ‘We have some further tests to conduct to determine if you three are a match. We... I’ll come and get you myself. You must remain here until we’re finished.’

  ‘What kind of tests? What genetic matching are you doing?’ said Susan.

  ‘That information is classified.’

  ‘Where are we? We know this isn’t the passenger ship,’ said Joel.

  ‘That information is classified.’

  Susan stared at her, hands clenched. ‘Stop playing games, Caroline.’

  The doctor’s gaze lifted to Susan. ‘This isn’t a game. This is very serious.’

  ‘Do you two know each other?’ said Joel.

  ‘Don’t you recognise the doctor from our weekly chats, Joel?’

  Joel leaned forward for a better look. ‘Can’t say I do. I’d have remembered a lying bitch like her.’

  Caroline stiffened. ‘Wait—is he a government employee too?’

  ‘Yeah, so?’ said Joel.

  ‘You weren’t expecting that. I can tell from the look on your face.’ That piece of news gave Susan hope.

  ‘I want to go home,’ said Robbie.

  Caroline dropped her gaze back to the DPad. After a moment, she said, ‘We’ll be ready for you shortly. Please be patient. Not much longer, I promise.’

  ‘You won’t get away with this,’ said Joel.

  Caroline’s eyes flicked from Joel to Susan and back again.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said and rushed for the door. ‘MOUSE, please keep monitoring their vitals.’

  ‘As you wish, Doctor,’ replied MOUSE.

  ‘Felicity?’ she called out.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Are you finished with the checks?’

  ‘Yes. Everything is fine.’

  ‘We’re leaving. Now.’

  Susan caught the urgency in Caroline’s voice. She listened until their footsteps faded, then vanished. When the door sucked shut, the room fell quiet again. Then the sound of Robbie’s sobbing filled the room.

  17

  Caroline stumbled, almost falling, in her hurry to get out of the holding room. She slumped against the wall, not bothering to hide her shock from her assistant.

  A wide-eyed Felicity grabbed her elbow. She was accustomed to seeing the professional Dr Finnegan with a cool and detached demeanour.

  ‘Is everything okay?’ she asked. ‘You seem... shaken.’

  Caroline forced a smile. ‘I’m just a bit lightheaded. Probably need to eat something, that’s all.’

  Felicity turned to leave. ‘Let me get something for you.’

  ‘No!’ Felicity’s eyes widened more and she added, ‘No, thank you. I can get something myself. I need you back in the lab. Help Julian to process the results from our current batch.’

  ‘Yes, Doctor.’ Her assistant left.

  ‘Thank God she’s gone,’ said MOUSE.

  Caroline pinched the bridge of her nose. ‘What?’

  ‘Your heart rate was elevated and your adrenaline had spiked. Felicity’s presence was clearly making you uncomfortable.’

  Caroline leaned her head back with a sigh. ‘Do you have a problem with Felicity, MOUSE?’

  ‘Well, nothing a personality transplant and a comb through her hair wouldn’t fix. Why do you ask?’

  She was sick of MOUSE’s pettiness.

  ‘Is there a problem?’ asked the sentient.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You’re acting weird, Dr Finnegan. You can hide nothing from me. I see and hear all.’

  Caroline came clean with the sentient. She focused on the floor. ‘I know that woman in there.’

  ‘That much was obvious. Is she—was she—a friend?’

  ‘I knew her to see, that’s all.’

  ‘So, why are you so upset? What is she to you?’

  ‘I’m just surprised. I worked with her.’ If the tables were flipped, how would she feel being in Susan Bouchard’s position? ‘MOUSE, why are there two government employees in the next room and a kid that’s too young for this programme?’

  ‘Perhaps Mr Deighton felt the DNA net needed to be cast wider.’

  ‘I received top-level assurances that the programme would be restricted to those who had previously used the manipulation clinics. That way, any tests we carried out would be masked by the earlier work and remain undetectable.’

  MOUSE finished her thought. ‘And if we test anyone outside of those criteria, we leave a trail for others to uncover our work.’

  ‘Exactly.’

  Radicals eager to expose their operation remained a top level threat.

  But something else bothered Caroline that she didn’t want to share with MOUSE: she and her team had been guaranteed immunity from the secret tests. All government officials had. With the discovery of fellow researchers in her holding room, that promise stood on shaky ground.

  ‘Is there something else bothering you, Doctor?’

  Caroline wished her vitals weren’t so easy for the sentient program to read. ‘You don’t have to know everyth
ing, MOUSE. Not everything requires an analysis and discussion.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Dr Finnegan, but I’m programmed to monitor the team’s vitals. Your heart rate is pumping unusually fast. Do you need medical assistance? Should I call for someone—or help you myself?’

  ‘Damn it, MOUSE. Leave me alone.’

  ‘No need to be rude. I’m only trying to help.’ The sentient actually huffed. ‘I would have expected this attitude from Felicity, but you Doctor—you’ve always been so nice to me. Perhaps if I just check—’

  ‘MOUSE! Go back to the lab. That’s an order.’ Caroline needed five minutes to think.

  ‘Fine. FINE. I’m going.’

  She heard a click and then silence—MOUSE had gone.

  Caroline trembled with abating anger. This new change in protocol unsettled her. How could she be sure Deighton wouldn’t turn on her once he had his answers?

  She did the best job when she clinically detached from her test subjects. Her father, also a genetic biologist, had taught her how to survive in the ever-changing world of genetics. The first lecture he’d given her still stuck with her.

  ‘The primary goal of genetics is to improve human life, not destroy it, but you may be asked to do things you’re not comfortable with. You’ll face difficult moral decisions. Protect yourself. Emotionally detach from your subjects. Your goal is as few casualties as possible. That includes you.’

  It had been harsh advice at the time, but the longer she worked in twenty-second-century genetics, the more his advice made sense.

  For the first time in her career, Caroline struggled to remain impartial. How could she when she knew what MOUSE and her team would confirm in an hour’s time? The perfect subject for Deighton’s plans would be one of the three awakened people in that room.

  She walked back to the laboratory, giving herself a pep talk on the way to get her shit together. Outside the room, she heard MOUSE tell the team about her episode and how she had refused its help. An angry Caroline slapped the doors open. Everyone fell silent.

  Felicity was the first to speak. ‘How are you feeling, Dr Finnegan?’

  ‘I’m fine,’ she said through gritted teeth. ‘And if everyone is finished gossiping maybe we can get back to work.’

  Her three assistants lowered their eyes. So they should be embarrassed. Her episodes were none of their business.

  ‘I was just worried about you, Doctor,’ said the sentient. ‘I wouldn’t have mentioned it otherwise.’

  She took a deep breath, hating that MOUSE was right. ‘Let’s concentrate on the results. Have you analysed them yet?’

  ‘The woman’s genome structure is the strongest out of the three and most likely to accept our additions. She is the best candidate.’

  It’s what Caroline had feared. ‘What about the others in the room yet to be tested? Julian, is it possible we might find a stronger pairing?’

  ‘Possibly,’ said Julian from his workstation, ‘but we don’t have time to check. It could be months before we find another person that fits all the criteria.’

  ‘We’re ready to move now,’ said MOUSE. ‘Why not this one? Is it because you know her?’

  The others stared at Caroline. Her pulse thrummed in her ears.

  ‘You’re right, MOUSE.’ There was no point in lying. ‘She is the best, but I want you to test the younger male too, just to be sure. After, Felicity will contact Mr Deighton immediately. He’ll want to be here for the results.’

  ‘Two test subjects?’ said MOUSE. ‘Are you sure that’s necessary? The female is the strongest genetic match.’

  ‘Yes, two,’ hissed Caroline. ‘I want Deighton to have choices. Don’t argue.’

  Felicity looked uncomfortable.

  ‘Is there a problem?’ she asked her assistant.

  ‘I... shouldn’t someone more senior be contacting Mr Deighton? I mean, I can if you want me to, but I thought I should ask.’

  ‘No, you can do it.’

  ‘It’s just that—’

  ‘What is it, Felicity?’

  ‘He gives me the creeps. I don’t like the way he looks at me.’

  Deighton gave everyone the creeps, even Caroline. She disliked him even more since their call when he’d ordered his driver to push a woman and her baby out of the way.

  ‘Don’t argue with me please. Just do it.’

  A tight lipped Felicity nodded.

  Her team buzzed with cautious optimism. They had sacrificed so much—families, social lives, and their mental health—to live underground and do this work. MOUSE began the cheers and the assistants high-fived each other.

  Caroline couldn’t share in their enthusiasm. She was about to give Deighton what he needed. That should have made her happy, but all she felt was pain, right in the centre of her chest.

  Once they developed the new prototype, there would be no going back for Susan Bouchard. Caroline hoped she could live with the consequences of what they were about to create.

  18

  The morning after Bill Taggart had called Jenny Waterson to ask for her help, she’d called him back, inviting him to dinner—in Brisbane.

  ‘I’m sorry, Captain, that’s not an option,’ he’d said. ‘It’s too dangerous for me to travel right now.’

  ‘If you expect me to partake in illegal activity without having met you, you can forget it.’

  ‘Shit...’

  A long pause followed.

  Then Jenny said, ‘Should I set another place this evening?’

  Bill stood outside Jenny’s apartment block wearing a black overcoat, and a hat and scarf ensemble that covered most of his face. He removed a small box from his pocket and used the severed finger it contained to gain entry to the building. Jenny’s apartment was on the fifth floor. He arrived to find Jenny waiting for him.

  The leisure suit had been replaced by jeans and a floral print blouse. Bill smiled when he saw her hair.

  ‘What?’ she said pushing open her door.

  ‘I see you’ve changed your hair back.’

  Jenny ran a hand over her dyed platinum buzz cut. ‘Felt right.’

  She closed the door behind him. ‘Who’s Carl Benton?’ Bill frowned. ‘The name you registered under at the door.’

  ‘Oh, that.’ He touched the box in his pocket. ‘Just an alias I use to disguise my movements. They know where I am, but not who I’m meeting.’

  ‘Well, don’t stand on ceremony.’ She gestured to the sofa. ‘Take a seat. Can I get you something to drink?’

  ‘Beer.’

  Bill took off his coat, hat, and scarf and sat down. He looked around the apartment he’d only seen through the Light Box. It was tidier than the last time they’d spoken. He removed a sound disrupter from his pocket and attached it to the hardware unit for her Light Box. Jenny returned with his bottle of beer.

  ‘Is that thing legal? No—don’t tell me.’ She handed him the beer. ‘Steak okay?’

  ‘Don’t go to any trouble on my account.’ Bill took a large gulp from the opened bottle.

  ‘I’m not. It’s replicated.’

  Bill followed her into the kitchen where he saw cupboard doors were ajar and items had been pulled out and left on the counter. The kitchen looked like a bomb had hit it. He put his beer down on the only clean countertop space he could find. ‘I’m taking a big risk being here.’

  Jenny lifted her brows. ‘And I’m taking an even bigger risk by considering your proposal. Not to mention letting you use strange equipment in my apartment.’

  ‘Fair enough.’ Bill took another swig from the bottle.

  She gestured towards the replicator. ‘Help yourself.’

  Bill replicated another beer, this time a light one. He cracked off the cap and took a swig.

  ‘Would you set the table outside?’ Jenny pointed at an open drawer. ‘I’ll just order the food now.’

  Bill grabbed two sets of cutlery and laid it out on the table in the living room. He sat down with his beer. A few minutes later, Jenny showe
d up with their meals. Bill ate his replicated steak, hash browns and gravy with little enthusiasm—replicated meat had no flavour. Cantaloupe had spoiled food for him.

  ‘What part of Scotland are you from?’ Jenny didn’t seem bothered by the lack of flavour as she devoured her meal.

  ‘Edinburgh.’

  ‘My friend Stuart is Scottish too. Has a temper.’

  With a smile, Bill shoved another bland piece of steak into his mouth. ‘You want to know if I have one too.’

  ‘I like to know the people I work for. I like to know what to expect.’

  He chewed then swallowed. ‘Not all Scotsmen want a fight, but I’ll make exceptions for the right reason.’

  ‘Is that why you need me—because you’ve a score to settle?’

  Bill put his fork down. ‘On this occasion I’m just doing the right thing.’

  A few moments of silence passed between them. Then Jenny said, ‘I need you to go over everything you told me yesterday. You left out a lot of detail and I have questions.’

  Bill recounted the sequence of events that had led to him and Laura seeking her help. ‘We need you to sneak us on to a passenger ship bound for Exilon 5 so we can warn the Indigenes about our government’s plans for them.’

  ‘And those plans are exactly?’

  ‘Best you don’t know.’

  Jenny watched him for a moment. ‘How much does the job pay?’

  The question took him aback; he hadn’t given it any thought. ‘We can’t offer you anything right now.’

  ‘Then I’m afraid we’ve a problem. I’m unemployed and I need to pay my bills. It costs money to fly my personal craft.’

  She was right; Bill should never have assumed she’d do it for nothing. Perhaps they could reach a compromise. ‘I sure we could work something out. I’ve some savings. I could give you something now, and then make more payments in instalments.’

  Jenny tapped her fork against her lip. ‘If you cover the cost of the flight, I can probably manage until we get back. When must you leave?’

  ‘We need to put a few things in place first, but hopefully within the next week.’

  ‘I’d like to come with you and Laura to Exilon 5.’

  ‘Absolutely not.’