by Eliza Green
Anton looked around the space, as if he hadn’t heard him.
‘He still doesn’t remember anything,’ said Stephen.
Elise concentrated on Anton. Her fresh attempts to enter his mind were met with a heavy blockade. Anton glared at her, forcing her to break the connection.
Pierre tapped Anton on the shoulder. ‘And how are you feeling today?’
The Indigene stood tall, hands behind his back. ‘I’m very well, thank you. In fact, I believe I have everything I need now. I couldn’t figure out what was missing earlier, but when you two walked into the room’—he snapped his fingers—‘it just clicked into place.’ Anton held something out to Pierre. ‘I have a gift for you. From an old friend.’
In his hand was a small metal disc. ‘What is it?’ Pierre asked.
Anton didn’t reply.
‘What is it, Anton?’ repeated Pierre.
The Indigene smiled.
Elise tried to get inside his head again. She sensed despair and regret buried in the recesses of his mind. A rush of emotions hit her and almost broke her connection. But this was what she’d been searching for. Who she’d been searching for.
‘Anton?’ she asked.
The Indigene’s eyes welled up with tears. ‘What have I done?’
Elise grabbed the hand not extended out to Pierre. ‘Nothing yet. I knew you were in there. I could feel your presence.’
Pierre glanced around the room packed with both Indigenes and Evolvers. Their conversation had attracted a crowd. Stephen shifted closer to Anton, as if he were protecting his friend.
‘I’m sorry.’ Anton shook his head at Stephen. ‘I tried to stop him...’
‘Stop who? Where have you been?’ said Elise.
Anton’s eyes grew large. ‘He’s coming back. He won’t let me speak.’
Stephen nodded at the disc in Anton’s hand. ‘What is it?’
The Indigene squeezed his eyes shut. ‘He won’t let me tell you. I’m sorry for everything.’
‘We don’t understand. What are you sorry for?’ said Pierre.
‘Please, I have no control. This is not what—’ A gruesome smile replaced the look of fear on his face.
Elise pointed at the disc. ‘Whoever you are, tell us what this is.’
Stephen plucked it from Anton’s hand. ‘It’s pulsing...’
Pierre pushed Stephen away. ‘Get it out of here as fast as you can. Go!’
Elise watched in horror as Stephen bolted out of the core, carrying the bomb that Anton had brought back with him.
35
Laura’s head whipped round. ‘What the hell was that?’
A loud crash echoed through the tunnels. ‘Sounded like an explosion.’ The glowing blue communication stone scorched Bill’s hand. ‘We’re heading in the right direction. Let’s keep moving.’ He shoved the stone into his pocket, certain he could navigate without it.
Bill ran ahead, ignoring the slippery rock floor and bits of rock jutting out of the walls. The further they got the narrower the tunnel became, until it slowed all three of them down to a walk. The tunnel opened out into a cavernous space. Plumes of dust obscured his vision. Chunks of rock were strewn about the place.
The dust settled a little. Bill assessed the devastation. ‘It must have been one hell of an incendiary device to do this.’ He climbed over boulders and kicked debris to the side.
In one area, Bill spotted a body trapped under the rubble.
Seeing it too, Jenny rushed over to the figure.
‘Shine the flashlight over here,’ she called to Bill. He trained his torch on the spot where Jenny pointed.
‘It’s Stephen,’ said Laura with a gasp.
‘Help me get this off him.’ Jenny tugged at the large rock that pinned Stephen down.
Bill and Laura added their strength to her efforts, but it wouldn’t budge.
He crouched down next to Stephen. ‘Can you hear me?’
The Indigene moved his head but he didn’t respond. He seemed dazed, close to passing out.
‘Hang in there,’ said Jenny grabbing his hand.
‘Can anyone hear me?’ Bill called out. He stood. ‘We need help.’
‘This is Pierre,’ shouted a voice from the far side of the rubble. ‘Who are you?’
‘We’re friends of Stephen’s... from Earth. He’s trapped under a rock and we can’t move it on our own. Can you help?’
‘We?’ said Pierre. Bill caught the uneasiness in his voice. ‘How many of you are out there?’
‘Just three. My name is Bill.’
There was a pause. Then Pierre said, ‘We can’t get to you yet. The blast has blocked us in. But we’re trying to break through. If you work from that side we’ll be able to open a passage faster.’
Bill handed Laura the flashlight and followed the sound of Pierre’s voice to an opening big enough for a child to squeeze through. Jenny helped him to toss loose rock and stones away to one side. Laura stayed with Stephen.
‘Stephen, can you hear me? Are you all right?’ he heard her say. ‘It’s Laura O’Halloran. Remember, you came to my apartment on Earth? We’re working on a way to free you.’ To Bill she said, ‘Stephen’s not looking good. We have to do something.’
A new panic flared in Bill’s chest. ‘What can we do for him?’ he asked Pierre.
‘Just keep talking to him,’ said Pierre through the gap. ‘Leon and I are working as fast as we can on our side.’
Laura said to Stephen, ‘Hear that? Pierre and Leon are coming to help you.’
Stephen mumbled something.
‘He’s trying to speak,’ Laura yelled out.
‘He mustn’t speak.’ Pierre’s voice was urgent. ‘Please keep him still. His body’s trying to heal and it needs complete rest while it does that. Here’— he tossed a laser scalpel through the hole. Bill scrabbled in debris to find it—‘Cut him, He’ll heal. Any areas where there is severe oedema. It will help to relieve the pressure. Don’t worry, he will heal fast.’
Bill turned the scalpel over in his hand. It was a human design that had been modified with what looked like an unlimited power source. Original designs had to be manually recharged. He threw it to Laura and went back to shifting away the rubble.
Bill checked on Laura. Stephen’s thigh had swollen to double its normal size. She made a neat incision in his thigh with the scalpel. Clear fluid drained from the wound and the swelling subsided. He was close enough to see the wound knitting closed.
He shook his head. He’d only read about their healing abilities in official reports. Seeing it firsthand impressed him.
‘Hurry up,’ said Laura. ‘He’s not looking good and I don’t like cutting him in this way.’
‘We’re nearly through,’ said Bill. ‘You’re doing great.’
A few minutes later, the combined efforts of Bill, Jenny and the Indigenes had created a hole large enough to climb for an adult to climb through. Pierre and Leon went straight to the heavy rock that pinned Stephen down. They grunted and groaned as they lifted the rock off him and tossed it off to the side. The air instantly filled with more dust. Pierre and Leon coughed.
Jenny wiped the dust off her mask. ‘How did you manage that?’ she asked stunned. ‘The three of us couldn’t budge it an inch.’
Bill kept one eye on Stephen’s condition. Wounds more severe than the cut Laura had made healed before his eyes. But it soon became evident that he was struggling to breathe. Pierre crouched down beside Stephen with a filtration device in his hand. He inserted two parts into his nasal cavities, but struggled to get the largest part into his throat.
When Pierre tried to force the third part, Stephen convulsed. ‘His tongue is too swollen.’
‘We’re running out of time.’ Laura ripped off her own mask. Before Bill could react, she had detached the narrow oxygen tube and was passing it behind Stephen’s tongue. Stephen coughed and spluttered; she kept feeding the tube down. Stephen gagged and retched, but as Laura adjusted the airflow his breathing
calmed.
Laura’s breaths were short and uneven.
‘What the hell—?’ Bill ripped off his own mask. He lunged for her, covering her mouth and nose with it. She pushed his hand away.
She gasped for air. ‘You... need... it.’
He disagreed.
Bill’s own breaths laboured. With a grunt, he slapped the mask back on his face. ‘Christ, Laura...’
She dropped to her knees next to Stephen. Her breaths were dangerously shallow.
Bill stared at the Indigenes. ‘Help her!’
Pierre nodded. ‘Pick her up, get her inside.’
Leon scooped Stephen up in his arms and carried him through the opening in the debris. Bill followed with Laura, her long blonde hair tickling his forearm. He felt her shallow efforts to breathe.
‘Hang in there. I need you to stay with me,’ he said, his voice breaking.
Laura’s eyes drooped.
‘Let me—I’ll be quicker,’ said Pierre.
He tried to take Laura from him. Bill tightened his grip. ‘She’s my responsibility.’
Safely through the hole, he tried to keep up with Leon but the Indigene moved too fast. Pierre stayed with Bill, guiding him towards a large circular space with several doors on either side.
An Indigene held a set of double doors open and ushered them inside.
‘I have basic medical training,’ Jenny said to Pierre.
He pointed to Leon who still held Stephen in his arms. ‘Please assist them.’
Anton was already in the room and looked startled to see them.
‘Anton, you shouldn’t be here,’ said Pierre, but the Indigene stayed put. Pierre turned away from him in disgust.
Anton?
Bill’s surprise at hearing his name loosened his grip on Laura. Before he could move, Pierre had taken her from him and was pushing through some kind of flexible membrane surrounding a bed. He placed her down gently on the bed.
Bill widened his eyes. ‘What are you doing?’
‘The bubble contains air from the surface,’ Pierre explained. ‘It will allow her to breathe normally.’
Leon set Stephen down on a second bed next to Laura that was not contained in the same bubble. Jenny listened to instructions from Leon and inserted a drip into Stephen’s arm. Several Indigenes had gathered outside the room. Pierre spoke to them; it was too fast for Bill to understand. When the Indigenes left, Pierre faced Bill.
‘I’ve ordered them to contain the structural breach and to seal off our entrance,’ said Pierre. ‘It will help to stabilise the tunnels so we can begin the process of decontaminating our air.’
Bill tapped his breathing mask. ‘And these?’ He glanced over at Laura. Relief filled him when he saw she was breathing easier.
‘No, you have to keep that on. The air is too thin for you to breathe.’ Pierre’s attention was suddenly drawn to the entrance. A female Indigene stood by the door. ‘Do you know where Elise is, Arianna?’ he asked her.
Arianna shook her head. ‘I followed her signature to here, but I lost her.’
‘Leon, go find Elise,’ said Pierre. ‘Arianna, you can take over from Leon.’
Leon left the room and Arianna took his place at Stephen’s side. She and Jenny worked to stabilise Stephen.
Bill stood amid the chaos, wondering what he could do. With Pierre tending to Laura, and Arianna and Jenny watching over Stephen, he felt useless. His wandering gaze found Anton—the missing Indigene—stood in one corner. When had he returned home? With so much commotion, he hadn’t thought to ask. Anton’s hands were hidden behind his back—a pose that looked oddly familiar. The Indigene stared at him. Bill shivered under his intense scrutiny.
He turned away and focused on Laura. The gel mask was back on her face and she was sitting up, looking much better.
‘Can I come in and speak to Laura?’ Bill tried to push through the membrane, but it wouldn’t budge, no matter how hard he tried.
‘Nothing is as it seems,’ said Pierre with a bemused smile. ‘What looks weak to you is incredibly strong.’
She gave Bill the thumbs up. ‘I’m okay.’ Then she nodded at Stephen. ‘Check on him.’
Arianna was working fast to steady Stephen’s breathing.
‘How’s Stephen?’ he asked.
Arianna ignored him. Instead she administered something orally and intravenously.
Pierre growled. ‘He asked you a question.’
She visibly tensed. ‘The liquid I’ve given him will help his throat to heal.’ She refused to look at Bill. ‘The oxygen from Laura’s mask has scarred the tissue. It takes longer for us to heal internally than externally.’ She nodded at the intravenous liquid. ‘That will help to remove any impurities.’
‘Impurities?’
Arianna glared at him, as if the answer were obvious. ‘Human impurities. We are not immune from the bacteria you carry. Your female may have touched Stephen’s open wound after she cut him. It’s just a precaution.’
Jenny came to stand on the other side of Stephen’s bed. ‘Remember me?’ she said.
Stephen nodded. ‘Yes. I’m ashamed of how I behaved.’
Jenny grabbed his hand. Arianna looked away in disgust.
‘No, I’m the one who should be ashamed,’ said Jenny. ‘You asked for my help. I could have made things much easier for you.’
‘I threatened you. You did what you had to do.’
‘I could have done more, Stephen.’ Jenny sounded sad. She looked around the chaotic room. ‘Did my actions cause this?’
You saved my life.’ Stephen propped himself up on one elbow, his gaze finding Bill. ‘And you saved Anton’s. He’s home because of you.’
Bill shook his head. ‘I had nothing to do with Anton’s return. I’d no idea he’d been let go until today.’
Leon’s sudden arrival at the door drew their gazes. Pierre said something to him. He shook his head softly.
‘Where is my wife?’ Pierre asked the room.
Everyone heard it—the beginnings of a stifled laugh. Bill’s eyes cut to Anton in the corner, trying hard not to smile.
He strode towards him, appalled by his behaviour. ‘Why are you laughing?’
Jenny appeared by his side. She pushed him to one side. ‘Step aside, please.’ Bill was about to protest, but her gaze was fixed on Anton.
‘Jenny, what are you doing?’
‘Remember I told you I used to transport criminals before my courier job? I know what I’m doing.’
Anton regarded her with fascination. The room fell silent but Bill sensed a heavy tension that matched his own.
Pierre took a step closer, but Bill cautioned him with a look. He stayed back.
‘Anton, is it?’ said Jenny.
The Indigene pinned her with a hard look. His smile disappeared and the hairs on Bill’s neck stood on end.
‘What are you hiding?’ she asked.
‘Wouldn’t you like to know?’
For the first time, Bill noticed Anton was protecting something.
Jenny reached her hand out to Anton—a sort of gesture. ‘Of course. Please show me, I’d like to see.’
Anton slapped her hand away. ‘Fuck off, bitch.’
Jenny backed up, managing to keep her cool. ‘Come on now, I know you’re dying for someone to see your handiwork.’ She nodded to the bed behind Anton, covered with a loose white sheet.
‘Why would I show you, bitch?’
‘You want people to know what you’ve done. You get a kick out of it.’
Anton shrugged. ‘Maybe I do.’
Jenny reached for him again. ‘So show me. Show us all. You’ve got our attention. That’s what you want, isn’t it?’
Anton’s expression changed from anger to what looked like pride. Jenny grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the way. Pierre restrained Anton.
‘Bill...’ She nodded towards the bed.
It was a bed similar to the others in the room. Something was on it, covered in a loose sheet. Bill wa
lked up to it, his pulse racing. Before he even pulled back the sheet, he knew what he’d find. Pierre continued to restrain a smiling Anton.
Bill lifted a corner of the sheet and looked under it. ‘Shit.’
As if Pierre knew, he released Anton and rushed to the bed. ‘Elise...’
Two Indigenes grabbed Anton while Pierre cradled the body of his wife.
‘Get him out of here,’ the old man hissed. ‘Put him in one of the holding cells.’
They led a chuckling Anton away.
Pierre refused to let go of his wife.
‘We might still be able to save her,’ said Jenny to Pierre. ‘But I’ll need to start compressions.’
She tried to prise Pierre away from Elise, but the centenarian wouldn’t let go.
‘Let her try,’ said Bill.
‘I can’t feel her anymore.’ He sounded calm, accepting almost. ‘I haven’t been able to since the explosion.’
Bill looked around at the sea of shocked faces in the room. ‘How did the explosion happen?’
‘Anton—my son—returned home with a bomb,’ said Leon. ‘He said it was a gift for Pierre.’
A gift—from whom?
Whatever the purpose of this attack, it sickened Bill. The Indigenes were no different to humans. They had flesh and bones, emotions and feelings.
Tears streamed down Pierre’s face. He continued to rock his wife in his arms. ‘I don’t know how to protect them anymore.’
36
That night, Stephen, along with Arianna, walked behind Pierre as he carried Elise’s hessian-covered body to the core of the district. The core had been transformed into a ceremonial room and was packed with Indigenes. Their grey and red auras reflected the general mood—confusion, grief, pain, anger—as they struggled to come to terms with the death of their elder. Leon lingered at the back of the group.
Pierre was still refusing to speak with him.
A long table dominated the centre of the room, fashioned out of large shards of gamma rock left over after the tranquillity cave excavations. A few white flowers, collected from the residential gardens of New London, surrounded the table. On the floor was a small metal bowl filled with water. Next to it was a lit candle, and beside it, Elise’s white elder robe.