They headed back to the tavern in silence, along the small, straight road that led from Central Square. Albert had once told Ben about growing up in the former Cambria Heights; a suburb with wide roads and neat houses on small plots of land. When the population had exploded at the turn of the twenty-second century, the suburbs were redesigned to better use the space. Towering apartment blocks soon replaced single houses. Some of the old suburbanites resisted, and a mix of tall and small housing became the new Waverley. Lee’s Tavern was one such place. Albert had helped his father to fight off the construction workers who tore through half of Cambria Heights without a single thought for those living there.
Isobel shuffled ahead, her hands and feet still bound, while Albert kept a loose grip on the chain attached to her ankles. Ben walked alongside Isobel, eager to distract her. If it was him tied up he’d be thinking of escaping.
‘When we’re back at the tavern we can take off the restraints,’ said Ben.
Isobel continued to absorb her surroundings. She switched her focus to her hands.
‘I will kill you as soon as you do.’
‘Please understand, we can’t do it here. There are too many people around.’
‘I will still kill you.’
Albert yanked on the chain and Isobel stumbled.
‘Threaten my grandson again and I’ll send you straight back to Marcus.’
Isobel muttered something under her breath, but kept shuffling forward, her eyes focused on the road.
When they reached the tavern, Albert handed the chain to Ben. Albert unlocked the door and held it open as Isobel shuffled inside. Ben saw Isobel’s fingers probe the atmospheric force field as she passed through. He kept close behind to narrow any escape path; not that he was a match for her. She would soon see that working at the tavern was the easier, safer option.
The tavern had been closed all morning and the lack of patronage seemed to put Isobel at ease. Ben dropped the chain to the floor while Albert went upstairs. He returned with a screwdriver, a crowbar and a hacksaw.
‘Before I take these off, I need your reassurances that you won’t harm us,’ said Albert.
Isobel smirked and looked away. ‘I will make no such promise.’
He placed the tools down on the bar. ‘Then the chains stay on.’
Ben stepped in front of Isobel. ‘Just promise and we can take these off.’
He noticed she was having trouble breathing. Her chest rose and fell a little too quickly.
‘Are you all right? Is the air going to be a problem?’
Isobel cleared her throat and shook her head. ‘It’s a little more oxygen than I’m used to. But my lungs will adapt.’
‘How is that possible?’ said Ben. He waited for Isobel’s discomfort to pass.
‘Genetic reversal.’ She closed her eyes and drew in a long breath, then released it. ‘My lungs are now part Indigene, part human. And, yes, I promise not to kill any of you. Now take off these chains. I am weak from the electricity.’
Albert grabbed the tools and tried the screwdriver on the shackles. Ben took the crowbar and wedged it into the seam of the ankle restraints. He loosened them enough for Isobel to step out of them. Her hands popped out of the wrist clamps, and the chains and clamps clattered to the floor. Isobel pushed the metal pile away with her foot. It slid across the floor and hit the back wall with a thump.
‘Don’t be afraid here, Isobel,’ said Albert. Ben caught the slight tremor in his voice.
Isobel, who held her head high, barely moved. ‘I’m not afraid of you. I accept whatever fate I am given.’
‘You misunderstand my intentions. We’re all friends here, isn’t that right?’ His eyes flicked to Ben.
Ben nodded. ‘I told you already. We bought you to save you. We’re the good guys.’
Isobel smirked. ‘Most people who say that don’t usually bargain for a slave.’
‘How else could I convince Marcus to let you go?’ said Albert. ‘The lad here even gave up his compass so we could meet the price.’
Isobel levelled her gaze at Ben. ‘You shouldn’t have bothered. You’ll soon see it was a waste to spend it on me.’
Her words lacked emotion but something else danced behind her yellow-flecked eyes. Ben recognised the same fear he’d seen in Stephen’s eyes all that time ago. She was afraid, but not of him or Albert. Something else terrified her.
Albert called for Kevin, but he got no answer. ‘Where has he gone to now?’
Ben hadn’t seen him at the auction.
Albert shook his head in the same way his mother used to, when she realised she could no longer control her son. But Albert cared a lot more than she ever had. Kevin was Albert’s last living relative. His son had died the year after the World Government had left. He’d suffered a pulmonary collapse and had needed the medical attention that was no longer being provided.
Kevin had been hit hard by his father’s death. When Albert had rescued Ben from the orphanage and Ben had met the surly boy for the first time, he’d wondered if Albert’s offer to take him in was more to ease Kevin’s pain than Ben’s.
Albert turned his attention to Isobel. ‘Now, Isobel, I need to tell you what place you’ve returned to. This planet is not how you remember it. The World Government left on the last ships in 2164. It’s a time we call “The Last Escape”. They abandoned the unskilled workers on Earth. The criminals were high in numbers and they took over to fill the void the government left behind. They killed off industry, seized all the food replicators, drove us into these managed neighbourhoods, built high walls. They gave us the basics. Generators for light and heat, food supplies that they controlled.’
‘But yet you stay,’ said Isobel.
‘In some twisted way, we rely on them. There is nothing beyond these walls. No life support, no way to live. The properties inside Waverley all have life support, breathable air. Not outside these walls. We would suffocate long before we starved.’
‘I saw guns, on the rooftops.’
‘Yes, they like to control us from inside, but they let us run the neighbourhood as we see fit. Curfew operates from 10pm until 10am. Outside of those hours, we may venture out. They patrol the neighbourhood after hours, use the guns to keep us compliant.’
‘And they don’t worry about you making a run for it during the day?’
Albert laughed. ‘People don’t stray far from the safety of the neighbourhoods. Our oxygen, which they ration, doesn’t last long enough and they know that. They don’t care about us, but they exercise control over us to show the other factions who’s in charge. The Agostini family run the entire New York area as far as Long Island to Upstate New York. They call themselves “the Kings” because of Gaetano Agostini’s supposed connection to Italian royalty back in the day. There’s constant rivalry, bad blood between the factions. But they keep their distance from each other. One thing they agreed upon was to dole out the returning Indigenes equally among the factions. Everybody wins. Marcus, the one who sold you in the marketplace, is one of Gaetano’s men. He runs Waverley and other neighbourhoods close by. And also a black market not far from here.’
‘So I’m a prisoner here.’
‘In a way, yes. We’re all prisoners. But you will not be shackled while you live here. I only ask that you respect the rules and don’t cause trouble for us.’
Isobel gave a tight nod.
‘Now, I’m going to make a cup of tea. Would you like one, Isobel?’ Albert’s voice was gentle but his shoulders were set and rigid.
Isobel shook her head and slumped down in a chair at one of the round tables near the back of the room.
Albert turned to Ben. ‘Would you like one?’
Ben shook his head and gave Albert his most encouraging smile. But the old man didn’t reciprocate. He climbed the wooden stairs, one hand gripping the rail. When he was gone, Ben sat on one of the bar stools. Isobel studied him.
‘You’re different from the others,’ she said.
He tried to make light of it. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
But her stare hardened and her eyes narrowed. ‘You don’t have the same fear, the same edge to your words as the others do. I would say you’re comfortable around me. Do I not repulse you in this form?’ Her hands swept the length of her body. ‘I may be a devolved human who’s regaining my human looks, but I am still not human by your standards. I still have my Indigene speed and strength.’
Ben smiled and shook his head. ‘I’m not repulsed by you. I’ve met one of you before.’
‘Were you not terrified by the one you met?’ Her eyes became wide and feral, her voice sharp. ‘According to your Marcus and others like him, we are monsters. Contaminated humans unfit for anything other than slave labour.’
‘Marcus is a dickhead. And no, not terrified. Okay, I admit I was scared. I was only eight. The one I met. He didn’t threaten me. All he wanted to do was talk.’
‘And who is this mystery Indigene who has cured you of all hate towards our race?’
‘Stephen. Meeting him changed my life, and I’m sorry to say it wasn’t for the better.’
Isobel leaned back in her chair, visibly shocked. ‘Don’t tell me you’re talking about the leader of District Three?’
‘The what?’
She leaned forward, her tone icy. ‘District Three’s great leader. Well, one of them.’ She shook her head. ‘Stories say he met a young boy who was the catalyst in changing his mind about the human race. That one event altered the course of District Three. He is revered by all district Elders because of his innate understanding of your kind.’ She laughed as if mocking him, and leaned back in her chair. ‘Could it be you he met? You don’t look like anything special.’
He flushed red as Isobel stared at him with a mixture of curiosity and disgust.
‘What did he say about me, exactly?’
Isobel relaxed her hard expression. ‘Something about your innocence and being drawn to it. Blah, blah blah.’ She circled her hand around, as if bored.
His eyes pricked with tears. A hard lump lodged in his throat. At age eight, all he’d wanted was for someone to understand him in a way his parents never did. For someone to understand how his mind worked; to be interested in him, in his life. He’d thought this someone was Stephen. But he’d spent the last eight years believing that Stephen had used him, and he hated him for that. And now, to hear that their meeting had been the catalyst for something good? He didn’t believe it.
Ben’s breaths came out too short and too sharp.
Isobel stood up too fast, and came towards him. Her sudden speed surprised him and forced him off the stool.
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.’
He turned away from her soft expression. He hadn’t cried since the orphanage, and he refused to start now. It was easier to close himself off to people. He knew how to handle rejection. He’d kept Albert in the dark about his past, been careful not to let him get too close. It was stupid that one good thought about Stephen could unravel all this hard work. Stephen had walked into his life when Ben still cared about what people thought of him.
He turned back around and was surprised to see Isobel with her arms outstretched, as though she was reaching for him. He frowned and she dropped her arms, then returned to her chair and sat down.
The front door swung open and a drunk Kevin burst in. ‘Where is she?’
He stumbled over to Ben.
‘Where the hell were you? Albert’s been worried sick. Where did you get the drink? Was it here?’
‘Shut up, Ben. You’re such a fuckin’ goody two-shoes. And no, it wasn’t here. Older boys who give a shit.’ He leaned close, his breath reeking of beer. ‘You and Albert, always whisperin’ ’bout me. Where is she?’
He staggered around the room. Ben backed up towards Isobel. Chair legs squeaked on the flagstone floor behind him.
Kevin’s eyes slid everywhere, focused on little. His head bobbed as he tried to nod. ‘There she is.’
Ben matched Kevin’s drunken steps. ‘Sober up first, then I’ll introduce you.’
‘Why don’ you shurrup?’ His glassy eyes sharpened when he locked on Isobel. Ben turned to see she was standing. Her tall frame looked menacing in the grey World Government uniform. Her dark hair was patchy and uneven.
‘Jesus...’ Kevin screwed up his face and swayed. ‘She’s old an’ bald. The fellas will be disappointed. They were hopin’ to get laid by one of these.’
Kevin’s hate for the Indigenes shocked Ben; he’d never heard him speak quite like this before. He wondered which of the ‘fellas’ had been in his ear.
‘Shut your mouth, Kevin. You know nothing about her.’ He ground his fists into the side of his legs. He glanced behind him to see Isobel watching them with quiet amusement.
Then he saw Albert, standing on the last step, mug in hand.
‘Ah, there you are, Kevin.’ Albert’s voice was even. ‘I was looking for you this morning. I had to go with Ben to the auction. Where did you go?’
‘Out.’ Kevin dropped his gaze.
‘Have you met Isobel?’ Albert kept his tone light as he stepped down into the room and sipped his tea.
‘No...’ Kevin didn’t look at him.
Albert clutched the mug so tight his knuckles had turned milky-white.
‘Well, Isobel will be working with us. Helping us to run this place.’ He turned to Isobel. ‘Sal, our mechanic, has agreed to give you a room. It’s nothing much, but you should be more comfortable there than living here with three males.’
She nodded. The tension in the room made Ben shiver.
‘I don’t want to work here if she’s goin’ to be here,’ said Kevin.
‘Of course you do,’ said Albert. ‘You’ll get to know Isobel the same way I will get to know Isobel, and we will keep an open mind on the matter, like Ben is doing.’
Kevin muttered. ‘Fucking kiss-ass.’
‘What did you say?’
Isobel shifted closer to Albert, as if to protect him.
‘Nothing.’
Albert drank some more tea and waved his hand. ‘Now go upstairs and sober up. Later, I want you to show Isobel how we do things around here. I’ve delayed opening the tavern so Isobel can have time to settle in. Today, we open at 3pm.’