Albert wheezed and his arms and legs shook. Just metres from the gate to Waverley, the iron bar fed through the section of cloth slipped from his hand. Héctor stumbled with his end, and the stretcher hit the ground with a thud. Albert straightened up, pressed a hand to his chest and closed his eyes.
His heart hadn’t been through this much exertion since the days when he’d lifted barrels in his functional and profitable tavern. He wiped his clammy brow with a sleeve. The satchel with Jenny’s apples clung to his back. He rubbed his aching hands together and stooped to re-lift the stretcher.
Their arrival at the gate had stirred curiosity among the residents waiting to enter Waverley. A guard appeared at the back of the group and waved the onlookers away with the threat of an Impulse Taser. He approached Albert, with a mask pressed to his face.
‘What the hell’s this?’
Albert set his side of the stretcher down and looked up at the guard. The guard pointed the Taser at Albert’s head.
‘I asked you a question.’
‘He intervened in a row between Marcus and one of the vendors at the black market,’ said Albert in a flurry of words. He repeated the story Jenny had told him to say.
The guard narrowed his gaze and looked down at Hans. The German was still unconscious. A second guard watched from the slightly raised booth.
The first guard knelt down beside Hans and peeled back the fabric covering the wound. He laughed and turned to the guard at the gate.
‘Did you hear that, Tash? One of the Germans messed with Marcus. Check out the size of this fucking blast wound.’
Tash strained his neck out of the booth to see. They both bellowed with laughter. The nearest guard kicked the stretcher. Héctor pressed his fists into his sides and bent down to pick it up.
Albert had often considered trying to overpower the guards at the gate, but the Agostini family would only have replaced them with more vicious thugs.
‘Get up.’
The guard shouted at Hans. When the German didn’t move, he bent in close.
‘Hey! Sprechen Sie Englisch, asswipe?’
Albert slowly picked up his end of the stretcher and Héctor readjusted for the weight.
‘You don’t need to worry about him,’ said Albert. ‘I’ll take full responsibility.’
The guard kicked the stretcher again and waved the Taser at Albert. ‘Get out of my sight before I use this on you.’
Héctor passed through the gate first. Albert’s legs quivered as he followed past the booth and the sneering second guard. He was close to dropping the stretcher, but knew that things would be much worse if he showed weakness in front of the guards.
The guard with the Taser snatched at Albert’s satchel so hard he almost lost his grip.
‘What’s in here?’
‘A couple of apples I got at the market. I have a receipt. Take them. They’re yours.’
The last thing Albert cared about was two stupid apples. He could barely breathe.
The guard flipped open the top of the satchel and took them out. He tossed one to Tash and polished the other one on his uniform before tucking it in his pocket. The guard jerked the empty satchel up and laughed as he draped it over Albert’s head like a hat.
Albert made it a short distance inside the gate before his legs buckled and he dropped his end of the stretcher. Héctor eased the stretcher down and slumped to the ground.
Beside them, Hans stirred. Albert reached over and pressed two fingers to his neck. His pulse was weak.
Several Waverley residents gathered round. Four picked up the stretcher and jogged towards the junction that connected the four Compounds.
‘Get him to the school,’ said Albert.
Someone lifted him up by his armpits. He tried to stand, but fell back to the ground. He looked up at his helper: a man no older than twenty spoke to him in hurried Italian.
Albert frowned and shook his head. A second person knelt beside him. It was Sofia, the Italian rep from Sal’s place the day before.
‘He wants to know if you can stand.’
Albert nodded. ‘I think so.’
Sofia and the young man helped Albert to his feet. Others helped Héctor off the ground.
Albert stumbled along, leaning on the pair for support. When the tavern loomed in the near distance, he felt stronger, and a little silly.
‘I think I can manage now. Thank you both for your help.’
The pair released Albert and followed him back to the tavern.
His hands shook as he reached for the door; it was locked. He banged on it.
‘Kevin? Ben? Open up.’
He heard the bolt sliding back. Then Sal’s face appeared in the crack.
‘What’s going on?’ He pushed past her, followed by Sofia and the young Italian. ‘Why is my tavern closed?’ His run-in with the guards had both angered and embarrassed him.
The back of the tavern was a tangled mess of washing lines, blankets and towels.
‘Where the hell have you been?’ said Sal. Her grey overalls were covered in grease. ‘Ben told me you were on your way back hours ago. I was going to go after you, but then I got caught up helping here.’
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. There was an accident.’
Sal’s eyes widened as Albert closed the door. She checked him over. ‘Are you okay?’
He pulled off his gel mask, feeling the slight strain on his lungs. With so many extra people, the environmental controls couldn’t cope. Was this how life would be? Fighting for a little space to breathe?
‘I’m fine, but Hans is in bad shape. Marcus shot him with a Buzz Gun, took a massive chunk out of his side. They’ve taken him to the school.’
‘There are no medicines there.’
Albert shuffled to a chair, feeling an uncomfortable burn spread through his arms and legs.
‘I know. All we can do is wait and see if he recovers. Marcus really did a number on him. I’ve no idea if he’ll make it.’
Sal sighed and shook her head. ‘What did Marcus say?’
Albert removed his coat, conscious of the extra pairs of eyes on him; all there because of the failing life support in North.
‘He won’t help.’
He avoided Sal’s gaze as he draped his coat across the back of a chair.
Sal grabbed a pile of linens from the bar top.
‘Marcus is an asshole, but it was worth a try. Don’t worry. We’ll figure something out.’
She handed the linens to Sofia who set about preparing beds on the floor. ‘The upstairs still belongs to you and the boys, in case you were wondering.’
Albert nodded and dropped into the chair. Sal sat opposite him, her gaze cautious.
‘When did it come to this, Sal?’
‘To what, old man?’
He swept his hand across the tavern. ‘To this. We’re supposed to be making things better, but this doesn’t feel like we’re doing anything except preparing to die.’
‘Hush now. You know I don’t like hearing that defeatist talk.’
‘I’m sorry to disappoint you, Sal, but I’m tired. Of everything.’
Sal placed a hand on his arm. It was calloused and warm. ‘Do you remember what you said when they first erected the wall around Waverley? Around the only home you and I have ever known?’
Albert nodded. ‘I said I would fight to restore our old neighbourhood. But that was then. I’m an older man now and my fight is slipping.’
‘Then do it for your boys.’ Sal squeezed his hand tight.
‘Speaking of the boys, where are they? I expected them to be here.’ He looked around. ‘Where’s Isobel? I need to speak to her about something.’
‘Didn’t Ben tell you? He said he would catch up with you on his way out of town.’
‘Out of town? Where?’
‘They’ve gone to Long Island to find Isobel’s husband. Well, they hope it’s her husband. He was the only name listed as living in the New York area.’ Sal smiled. ‘Don’t worry, Albert. They’ll be back soon. Kevin came home an hour ago. He’s upstairs, being his usual helpful self.’
Albert waved his hand, distracted.
‘Come on.’ Sal stood up. ‘Let’s talk more upstairs. Forget about tea. We need something stronger.’
Sal poured three fingers of whisky each into two tumblers. Albert followed her as she carried them upstairs to the kitchen and closed the door.
Albert sat at the table, grateful for a little space away from his house guests.
Sal pushed a glass towards him. ‘This will help you to relax.’
Albert took a sip and savoured the heat from the watered-down alcohol.
She stared into her tumbler. ‘I know things aren’t good, Albert. And I can’t say I trust that boy of yours.’
‘Who, Ben?’
‘No, Kevin. He’s out at all hours. He’s never around to help you.’ She seemed distracted. ‘I wish I could do more to fix those damn generators. Then we wouldn’t have to rely on that good-for-nothing Agostini family.’
‘The generators aren’t the issue, Sal. It’s the life support. Apparently, it runs off its own power supply.’
That got her attention. ‘Who told you that?’
‘A vendor at the black market. Called herself Jenny Waterson.’
‘Isobel’s mystery woman? What did she say?’
‘When I asked Marcus about the life support, he knew nothing about it.’ Albert ran his fingers through his thick hair. ‘Then Jenny confirmed the criminals have nothing to do with the life support.’
‘Interesting.’ Sal folded her arms. ‘So, what does she want with our Indigene?’
‘She seems to think Isobel is more than an empath.’
‘A mechanic?’
‘No idea.’
Sal swirled her glass and drank. ‘So what’s the big secret about the life support?’
‘Jenny showed me an encrypted message that’s running on all the DPads. Well, on the functional ones, anyway. She thinks the failure of the life support and the encrypted message are linked. Apparently, some hackers shut down the systems before they left for Exilon 5. Anyway, Jenny says the criminals don’t use the DPads to send messages because they can’t verify how genuine the input-output is. They’re terrified that some hackers remained on Earth and can see and manipulate their messages. So they play it safe. Use couriers. She seems to think there’s an IT expert among the skilled workers hiding in Boston somewhere. She said Isobel was sent here to help.’
Sal leaned back. ‘So, what, we just hand Isobel over, no questions asked? Do you trust this Jenny Waterson? It could be a trick. Or one of the Kings testing you.’
‘Could be.’ Albert took a hit of his whisky and enjoyed the slight burn as it went down. ‘She wants to meet Isobel tomorrow.’ Sal made a face. ‘I know, but if there’s a chance Isobel can help then we should explore that option. Besides, I’ll be with her. I can pull her out if it’s a trick.’
‘So what else did this Jenny woman say about the skilled workers?’ Sal tapped her foot on the floor. ‘Can they really help us with our life support issue?’
‘She said they still use the DPads to communicate with each other. There’s a good chance they could decipher the encrypted message and restore life support. If they’re linked.’
‘Any idea who sent Isobel?’
‘Yeah, a Bill Taggart and someone called Stephen.’
Sal lifted a brow. ‘The Bill Taggart?’
‘Yeah. Who’s he?’
‘The only man who came remotely close to changing the World Government’s mind about not abandoning us.’ Sal gestured as she spoke. ‘In public, he works for the World Government board members on Exilon 5. But many believe he’s working privately with an underground movement. This Jenny woman must be part of that movement. I can’t believe you haven’t heard of him. Director of the International Task Force on Exilon 5? Where have you been, old man?’
Albert shifted in his chair. ‘If he’s not here on Earth helping us out of this mess, he’s of no interest to me.’
‘And this encryption. Could it be an old message playing on a loop? Why does Jenny think it’s linked to the life support?’
‘I’m not sure. She seems to think it could be some computer code. There’s a small chance that the two are connected. I’m more interested in why the life support is failing now, after all this time.’
Sal shrugged. ‘Could just be Marcus sending us all on a wild goose chase. He’s a liar, we both know that. He may have said what he did to throw you off the scent.’
Albert stood up and drained his glass. He set the tumbler down on the draining board beside the sink. ‘I realise the risk, but we have to get to the bottom of our life support glitch, and try to recover the stolen money and pay back Marcus. There are twenty people on my floor and the life support can’t cope. Isobel and the skilled workers may be our only option.’
He opened the door and headed for the stairs. Sal followed him. At the bottom, he turned to her.
‘What do we know about where these workers are living?’
She shrugged. ‘Not much. Nobody knows if they’re even in Boston. Some think they’re at Harvard. Parts of the campus are wired up with new security measures.’
‘So we are finally discussing la Fortezza, yes?’ said Sofia.
‘What do you know about it, Sofia?’
‘Strong, impenetrabile. Old medical facilities. Harvard. Si. I’ve been there.’
‘Old what?’
She pointed to the badge on Sal’s World Government uniform. ‘It’s where they used to hide.’
Albert looked at Sal. ‘Is she talking about the old genetic manipulation clinics?’
Sal shook her head. ‘She means the secret medical facilities where the government tested on humans to perfect the alteration programme. Sofia, I thought they were all destroyed when the last of the World Government staff left six years ago. How did the workers get in there?’
‘Bill Taggart. When he helped them to fuga... When he helped them to escape, he gave them carta for the places. They lied about destroying all.’
There was that name, again. How had Albert never heard of Taggart? ‘Carta? You mean schematics, maps?’
‘Si. They live well. Fresh food, fresh water, air, power. Like kings.’
‘So why haven’t they helped us?’ said Albert.
‘I am unsure.’ Sofia clasped her wrinkled hands together. ‘Others have tried to talk to them at Harvard. They refuse to speak.’
‘When was the last time someone tried to convince them to help?’ said Sal.
‘Three years ago. Soon after, they hid their entrance and put new security in place. There was a collapse.’
‘Of the tunnels?’
Sofia nodded.
Albert turned to Sal. ‘Active security systems in place could mean there are skilled workers camped out at Harvard. And our IT person might be among them, as Jenny Waterson suggested.’
‘But they don’t want anything to do with us,’ said Sofia.
‘Well, maybe it’s time we tried again,’ said Albert.
Sal nodded. ‘I’m guessing they’re hiding from the criminal faction that runs Boston.’
‘Cowards, if they are,’ said Albert.
‘Would you blame them?’ said Sal. ‘Look at what happened to the Devolved when they came back. Farmed out to the Kings and other factions. The empaths sold as slaves to the neighbourhoods. Now imagine if ten, twenty, even a hundred skilled workers per facility suddenly emerged. The factions would have a field day.’
‘I understand their reluctance to show themselves. But the time has come for them to help with the life support.’
‘They can help with much more,’ said Sofia.
Albert didn’t want to raise his hopes too much. ‘If Marcus won’t help us, we need Isobel to step up. As soon as she returns I’ll speak to her. I want to know what Jenny Waterson wants with my barkeep.’