Genesis (7 page)

She couldn’t stay here. She was hungry and thirsty. But where could she go? She doubted the neighbours would take her in.

Juli’s? She still had the shuttle token and she had to warn her – but what would she tell her?

With effort she moved, and stifled a cry as feeling rushed back into her legs. She massaged her calves until the tingling subsided, then pushed her fingernails under the panel and levered it up. The room was dark and quiet. A faint glow of pale blue light from the kitchen window showed in a wedge shape on the floor near the door. That meant the streetlights were on.

Rosie made out the shadow of the one crate below. She was going to have to jump down onto it. She dropped her pack through the gap, then lowered herself down as far as she could, and let go. She hit the corner of the crate. It tipped and she fell to the floor, her shins whacking against the bed frame. She bit her lip trying to stifle her cry and lay there for a second, furious at the pain, before she got to her feet. She picked up her bag and looked out into the living area. The mess was still there and the front door was open.

Who had taken her dad? Was he still alive? Don’t think about it. Rosie felt as though there was a hand around her throat. She crept towards the open door. The light was on in the hall; a dirty yellow glow. She put a hand on the wall then stopped. There was a smear of something on the doorframe. Fingerprints. Blood. Something snapped inside her and, without thinking, she ran out into the hallway towards the stairs.

Panic filled her, but then her brain kicked back in and she stopped a few steps down. What was she going to do – fight them? Her dad hadn’t been able to.

What if the men were waiting for her at the bottom? She stood, indecisive, taut with fear. Then she remembered the fire-escape. She ran back. She climbed up on the sink and unlatched the window with shaking hands. There was the ladder: a thin frame of steel, leading down to the alley. Rosie swung out and began climbing down. Below, the alley was empty but for a stack of rubbish against the wall that surrounded the housing block.

Around and above her small squares of light showed most people were at home, but she knew she couldn’t count on anyone helping her.

The metal felt greasy and something buzzed around her head as she reached the alley and jumped to the ground. One of the streetlights on the wall buzzed then went out, plunging her end of the alley into darkness. She clutched at the bottom of the ladder, trembling. Rosie hated the dark. It meant danger, the unknown, death. She pressed her face against her hand, willing herself to calm down. Her fear was threatening to swallow her.

High above, the thumping sound of a helijet came from the direction of Central. A bright searchlight swept across the clouded night sky. Like a white wing of light, it arced across the Banks, the helijet invisible behind it.

Rosie turned her face to it, the light steadying her somehow. Pull it together, Rosie. She forced herself forward and, keeping close to the wall, crept towards the mouth of the alley. Further along, the heap of rubbish, twice her height, half blocked the way out. As she got near, she heard a dull scraping sound come from the other side and a long shadow stretched towards her.

She stopped, frozen against the damp grime of the wall.

“Rosie?” It was Pip. He came around the stack of rubbish towards her, his hands up as if she might attack him. “It’s okay. It’s just me.”

He’d lost his headscarf and his dreadlocks were a mass about his head. The whites of his eyes seemed bright in the darkness. “You all right? I saw ’em go into your flat – thought they might’ve got you but …” He stretched a hand towards her.

“What’re you doing here?” She flinched back, her heart racing.

“You skipped out on me, remember? I was following you for my boss.” He checked over his shoulder. “Probably a good thing too. Come on, we shouldn’t hang around here.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.” Rosie took a step away.

“Well, where else are you gonna go – your friend’s place?” His tone was derisive. “You think they don’t already know where she lives?”

“You seem to know a lot.” Rosie could hardly believe he had turned up here so conveniently, ready to help her. She watched him warily and said, “How do I know you’re not working with them?”

“If I was, don’t you think I’d have knocked you out or something by now? I wouldn’t be offering to help you, would I?”

“Oh, is that what you’re doing?”

He ran a hand over his dreadlocks and said slowly, “Rosie, you’ve got no choice. Just come with me. The boss won’t hurt you; he just wants to talk. Where else have you got to go?”

“You just want to get paid,” she said.

“Sure, whatever you say.” Pip sighed. “Let’s just get going.”

Rosie was filled with indecision. She didn’t know if she could trust him, but he was right. She had no idea where to go. Aunt Essie wasn’t due back until tomorrow and she didn’t want to sleep on the street. And perhaps this boss guy knew something about what was happening and who had her dad.

“All right,” she said quietly, “I’ll come with you, but I need a comnet.”

“What for? Those men who took your dad could trace it. All the public ones are linked.”

“Maybe not all of them.” His superior tone annoyed her and she wasn’t going to give up on trying to contact Juli just because he said so.

“Fine. The boss probably has one you can use. Just come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

“Are we taking a shuttle?”

“Yeah, right. How easy do you think it would be to spot you on one of those?”

Why hadn’t she thought of that? She bit back the smart reply that sprang to her lips. She suddenly felt very tired and despite the humid warmth of the evening, a shiver ran through her.

Pip jerked his head towards the mouth of the alley. “Coming then?”

Rosie nodded. He turned away and she followed.

The central park of the housing block was empty and they jogged silently across it and headed towards the riverfront through the maze of housing blocks and shops. They emerged in the street that ran between the markets and the jetties. It was chaotic with night-time trade. Bars were open and people wandered in noisy groups from one to another. Neon holo signs, surrounded by insects, lit up the night.

“This way.” Pip stepped out into the crowds, walking fast towards the jetties.

Rosie followed, bumping into people as she tried to keep up. A man dressed in an overcoat and stinking of stale beer spat on the pavement near her, and she lost sight of Pip when a group of young men cut across her path, staring at her with leering eyes. “Slow down,” she called.

Pip stopped and waited for her. “Hurry up, will you?” he said as she caught up. “We can’t hang around here.”

“I’m trying.” She spoke through gritted teeth.

“Try harder.” Pip glanced over her shoulder. “The men who took your dad could be around here somewhere and if they see you, they’re not going to play nice.” His blue eyes were dark and Rosie was chilled by the look in them. He knew something.

“Who are they?” she said. “Are they Senate?”

His face closed up. “Don’t know.” He gripped her arm and pulled her along with him through the crowd. “But they had gear – not just the laser guns the Senate have – real gear. Why do you think your whole housing block went so quiet?”

Rosie didn’t reply. What was so important about what she’d found?

“Here.” Pip swerved onto the road. His grip on her slid down so he was holding her hand as they negotiated the traffic. It was oddly intimate and she would have pulled away but for the thick trail of bio bikes whizzing around them. She was clipped more than once, the bikes’ drivers yelling at her or sounding impact alarms as they buzzed past. Pip didn’t slow down when they reached the other side. He strode towards a dilapidated-looking set of stairs that led down to a jetty almost covered by water.

“Down here.” He let go of her hand and went nimbly down the stairs. The jetty wasn’t fixed to the riverbed but floated free, tied only to the stairs, and a swell made the jetty lurch as Rosie stepped down. She staggered.

“Careful.” Pip caught her. He then turned and jogged down the jetty, water splashing up his legs. Rosie followed more slowly, wary of the undulating surface.

The boat they were getting on was in no better condition than the jetty. It was just a skiff. Pale green paint was peeling along its side and the mast looked like it hadn’t seen a sail for years. The cabin was nothing more than a three-sided shelter and a thin man of indeterminate race was sitting in it on an upended drum, a fat candle burning on another drum next to him. His skin was sallow and wrinkled, and when he stood up he wasn’t much taller than Rosie. He regarded them with a dour expression.

“Got another one?” He addressed his comment to Pip but his eyes stayed on Rosie as he sucked on his bottom lip.

“We’ve just got to go over.” Pip pulled a credit slip from his pocket. “The boss sends this.”

The man looked at the slip, then up at Rosie again and after a moment he jerked his head at Pip. “In.” He turned his back and blew out the candle then went towards the engine.

Riley paced back and forth. It was getting late; Pip should have been here by now with the girl. What was he doing? He pushed a hand through his hair. How had this girl found Cassie’s stuff?

He tapped a key on the computer, reading again the message that Helios had sent out.

Shore beacon activated. Retrieval team to recon status.

It had come from Madrid, sent to Libertine City in South Bay. Someone there had sent the team out – but was that all? Was he missing something?

He paced back and forth, back and forth. The room he was in was dark and dank, and the stink of the river mud drying on the floor smelled like sewage; he’d have to wash his boots before he went back to Central.

He stopped, his profile edged in the moonlight coming through the broken window. What if he’d been wrong?

He began to type furiously on the keyboard, spinning numbers, checking routes, hacking the net. Sweat formed on his forehead and stained the armpits of his shirt as he prayed it wasn’t what he thought. But then he found it hidden in a complex sequence of numbers. They were clever. He shook his head and stared at it. There had been two messages sent. The second was buried deeper than the first, much deeper, but there it was:

Clean Genesis.

Two little words. Riley’s fingers shook. This was it, they were going to destroy everything. His chance to bring them down would be gone and Cassie would never be able to come back.

Cold anger formed in his gut. He walked over to the window and stared up at the stars towards the brightest and reddest of them all: Mars, his family’s downfall and their only hope of salvation. Did those girls have any idea what they’d done?

Rosie sat under the shelter of the cabin with her pack jammed between her legs, swatting at the insects buzzing around her bare thighs. She wished she’d thought to change into a pair of longer pants, but clothes had been far from her mind when she’d jumped out of the window. Where was Dad? Was he all right? She kept hearing the sound he’d made, the way his cries had cut off, and it made her feel sick. She pushed her head briefly into her hands, pressing her palms to her eyeballs and took a long breath. Get it together, Rosie. This was no time to burn out.

She rubbed at a bite, praying it was a midgie and not a MalX-carrying mozzie, and glanced at Pip. He was leaning against the cabin entrance, his hands in his pockets, watching the dark water of the river rippling out behind them. She wondered how much this boss of his was paying him to fetch her and if it was worth the trouble.

The old man sat at the back of the boat, his eyes fixed on an unseen spot ahead of them, ignoring both his passengers.

She tapped her fingers on her knees. She didn’t want to meet this boss, but he might be able to answer some of her questions. Pip had said the box belonged to him. But how? The diary was obviously a girl’s and there was no name on it, nothing but initials to give a clue to the owner. Maybe his initials were CS?

She felt for the pendant in the pocket of her shorts and looked again at Pip. She hated this waiting, this not knowing. She got up and went to him.

“How far are we going?” she said.

He didn’t look at her. “Not far.”

“Can you be more specific?”

He shrugged and kept looking at the river. “Probably.”

“Probably?” She waited, watching him, but he just scratched his arm and said nothing more. The strain of the day, all the worry and the fear came raging up in her. Furious, she pushed him – hard. He staggered back into the wall of the cabin, his eyes wide with surprise.

“Probably?” she repeated, louder this time. “My dad is missing and I’m going God-knows-where and all you can give me is
probably
.”

He recovered his balance and came back at her fast. “What do you want – a map?”

“No.” He looked angry now but Rosie didn’t care. She was sick of his attitude. “I want you to tell me who those men were who took my dad and how they found my flat so quickly.”