Marcus couldn’t believe it. The traitor.
Harvey had just come out of the ITF building. He shook hands with Bill Taggart like they’d just done a deal. What deal? Harvey was supposed to be taking down the ITF. He and Patterson wanted the ITF’s power, and that plan required giving support to the rogue groups who had done nothing more than watch the GS lair for days now.
Two to each shift: one human one Indigene. Marcus and Clement had been paired together from the beginning. What did Marcus have to show for it? A killer headache from listening to Clement badger him about Harvey and Ollie, about how he needed to divide them with more lies.
And a deep-rooted desire to go solo.
He stormed away from his hiding place just as Harvey got in his vehicle parked outside the glass monstrosity on a street filled with old-world opulence. The car drove away. Marcus used to command similar vehicles on Earth. But here, he had to steal one.
Nothing more than a common thief.
He had no problem with the label, but he’d earned a better place in society through working for Gaetano. He refused to return to the bottom of the rung and wait another seven years to climb it.
Marcus returned to his stolen vehicle and ordered it to drive to nowhere in particular. He didn’t care where he went. He should have floored it to race Harvey back to the construction site, but seeing Harvey all pally with Bill Taggart had turned his stomach. He was sick of everything. What he really wanted was to confront Buchanan about his meeting. The shocked betrayer would have no choice but to let him in on his plans.
Marcus changed his mind and returned to the construction site. The car parked in its owner’s drive. From there, he walked the couple of miles back to the site and his giant hole, which could fit several chopped-up bodies. The thought made Marcus shudder. The hole beckoned him like a prison guard taunting him from outside a cell. He bypassed it and looked around, surprised not see any sign of either Harvey or Ollie. He took advantage of the lack of supervision and went to the house to get his communication device from his room. The house was both quiet and empty when he arrived. Marcus planned to be in and out before either Harvey or Ollie caught wind of his diversion.
He slipped into his bedroom and made a call to Clement. The phone rang and rang. The dickhead Indigene kept him waiting until the tenth ring.
‘Yes?’ said a cautious-sounding Clement.
Marcus rolled his eyes. ‘It’s Martin Casey, your old buddy. Your pal. Listen.’ He talked low and kept one eye on his closed bedroom door. ‘We need to chat about some things. Tonight. Can you meet with me?’
A long pause followed. It irritated Marcus that the Indigenes had no clue about human technology. It had been the same deal in the attic of the Deighton Mansion.
‘We’re not on the schedule tonight,’ said Clement.
‘I know,’ said Marcus. ‘I need to talk to you about something. Not meant for discussion over the communication device, if you get my drift.’
Another long pause irritated Marcus to no end. Carl, his traitorous—and hopefully dead—best friend back on Earth, had been the exact same way.
‘Okay,’ said Clement finally. ‘Usual spot at nine.’
‘Okay.’ Marcus rolled his eyes again. ‘See you then.’
He slipped the device out of his ear and stole out of the house. Back on site, it appeared nobody had missed him. Normally that would have pissed him off, but today that’s how he wanted it.
☼
Marcus arrived earlier than 9pm to make sure he didn’t miss Clement. He stood by the boulders that marked the boundary line for the GS land. It was the only place he and Clement had been. The Indigene hadn’t turned up yet, but Marcus knew enough to know he probably watched from afar. The dark prevented him from seeing much. Even his magnification glasses didn’t extend his vision beyond a few green feet. A sudden gust of wind alerted him to the presence of another. He twisted round but saw nothing. When he turned back, Clement stood a few feet from him, watching.
‘Shit. Fuck!’
Marcus pressed his fist to his already racing heart. The Indigene did his best impression of a statue.
‘How about a little warning next time?’
‘I don’t do warnings,’ said Clement flatly.
‘No, you don’t do humour either,’ muttered Marcus.
‘What?’
‘Nothing.’ Marcus eyed the creature. ‘Do you have any idea how creepy you are?’
Clement smiled. ‘You brought me all the way out here to insult me?’
Marcus exaggerated his eye roll. ‘Of course not, but an insult here and there doesn’t hurt, especially for someone with thick skin like yours.’
‘And I understand yours is thin.’
It was the way Clement said it, all creepy and low, that forced Marcus to drop the act. This Indigene knew more than he let on—and probably too much about Marcus. But at least the neural blocker kept the freak out of his head and put them on equal footing.
‘Okay, yeah, I didn’t bring you here to insult you. I came here to do business.’
Clement lifted his hairless brow. ‘Business?’
‘Things are changing on my side. I thought you’d like to know. I repeated the lies to both Harvey and Ollie, told them you were so desperate you would do anything for a truce with us,’ Marcus bluffed. ‘Not sure if they believed me, but they didn’t look surprised, if you know what I mean.’
Clement’s expression darkened in the black night. ‘How have things changed, human?’
‘Harvey told me he wants to protect the GS humans now. That’s where their focus lies. He doesn’t care what happens to the Indigenes.’
‘Well, you need to find a way to get their focus back on us.’
‘I will, I promised, but I need something from you.’
‘What?’
‘I’ll pledge my loyalty to the Indigenes if you get me a meeting with your... what do you call them... elders?’
Clement smirked. ‘What do you need to talk to them about?’
Marcus lifted his chin. ‘I want to be changed into one of you.’
‘Why?’
Was this Indigene playing games? ‘Because you suggested it to me. You told me I had options.’
‘I caught some of your thoughts before you turned on your neural blocker. I know you see the GS humans as a more attractive option.’
‘I’ve changed my mind.’
Without Harvey’s help, he didn’t see how he’d get near them.
Clement paused for too long. Marcus didn’t like the wait.
Then Clement said, ‘How will your alteration benefit our truce with the humans? You have the ear of Harvey and Ollie. If you become Indigene, we lose that connection.’
Marcus had given that some thought. ‘I was going to cement the idea in Harvey and Ollie’s heads before I changed, you know, to make sure they wouldn’t back out. But I’ll only agree if your elders promise to change me.’
Clement glanced behind him suddenly, and that’s when Marcus saw three other Indigenes step out of the shadows, all as menacingly tall as Clement. Marcus had not seen them before.
‘We don’t feel you would be a good addition to our race.’
‘You can’t back out, Clement. You promised.’
‘I made no such promise, human. And you won’t get near District Three.’
‘Sure I will.’
‘How?’
‘The same way you get in.’
Clement laughed. ‘There’s more than one way in, human. Drop this idea.’
Marcus shook his head. ‘So you’re not going to help me, not even after I promised to help you?’
‘If your human leaders wish to protect only the GS humans and leave us vulnerable, you’ve outlived your usefulness. We will find another human to manipulate.’
Marcus didn’t care for the term “outlived”, especially not in the Indigenes’ presence. He’d used that term before when he frogmarched one of Gaetano Agostini’s betrayers to their execution.
The group advanced on him and forced him to back up.
His heart thumped so loud he was sure the Indigenes could hear it. ‘So that’s a no to my offer?’
‘That’s a no,’ said Clement.
‘Okay.’ He thumbed behind him. ‘I’ll be off then.’
‘Are you sure you don’t want to stick around, see how we hunt?’ teased Clement.
Marcus was certain he did not. ‘Maybe another time. See you on the next rotation?’
‘Perhaps we’ll see you sooner than that, human,’ said one of Clement’s associates.
He licked his incisor, causing Marcus to shudder.
Marcus retreated from the group, catching himself too late as he stumbled and fell over a low cluster of rocks. His bum hit the ground with a thud, prompting a round of laughter from the carnivorous group stood just three feet away from him. He turned and crawled away until he was clear, then got to his feet and ran.
A panting and swearing Marcus stopped to see Clement and the others run off in a northerly direction. Clement would be no ally to him after all. But Marcus wasn’t giving up on the idea of alteration yet. With Harvey making his own plans, it was time for him to do the same.
He pulled his DPad out of his pocket and brought up a map of the area. Some of the Indigenes who’d lived in the Deighton mansion attic had discussed the location of District Three’s entrance. It was nothing more than a metal hatch from what he recalled of their discussions. Marcus had a vague idea of its location, given the direction Clement and his associates just ran. He would go there, wait for someone friendlier to appear.
Then what, ask them if he could meet their elders? Ask to be changed into one of them?
Was that what he wanted?
Maybe, if it meant he could become powerful. The Indigenes on Exilon 5 were not the frightened rabbits he’d lorded over on Earth. Here, they had power. He saw the potential to be someone great among them.
The more he worked through his plan, the more ridiculous the idea became. But he had to try something. Of one thing he was certain: Marcus Murphy would not go down without a fight.