After the following morning’s breakfast and morale-boosting speech from Gunn, we were about to leave the mess room for the office again while the others dispersed for their duties, when Gunn approached Johnny. He put his hand on Johnny’s shoulder and gave him a shot of his wolfish grin.
“Well? What do you think, mate? You’ve seen our little operation. You know, your experience and skills could be very useful to us. I hope you decide to stick around.”
Maman had come up to his side and he draped his arm around her shoulder. No matter how many times I saw this it still made me feel icky inside.
“I do hope you say yes,” she said. “After all, with us you have friends—we’ll look after you.”
“Sure will,” chipped in Gunn. “That’s what an army’s about—comradeship, support, solidarity.” He bent forwards to Johnny’s ear. “Come and see me later,” I heard him whisper. “I’ll let you in on some of our plans. I’d be interested in your opinion.”
Gunn and Maman walked away holding hands, to begin the task of conducting the day’s training and planning sessions.
“God, I can’t stand it,” I hissed to Johnny. “They’re getting worse. Thom is so cocky, he thinks he’s really scored with Maman. The former famous cover model. I’ve no idea why she’s doing this.”
Johnny nodded. “Yeah, but see it from her point of view. He represents her best chance of survival. She’s just swapped one alpha male for another.”
“Yeah, but why does she need one at all?” I said.
When there was a break, we went to where Gunn and Maman were working together above the mess room, in a mezzanine area at the back of the warehouse. Gunn was pleased to see us.
“Good to see you two. How’s the memory reconstruction going? I’ve been meaning to ask you, Johnny, what was it like in the CGR?”
I sat next to Johnny while he related what he’d managed to piece together from the remaining few scraps of a diary he’d kept while in the CGR that he had been able to retrieve. He left out the bit about meeting his mother, which he’d told me before. Gunn was interested in the tests, and the way that the inmates were kept separated from each other.
He asked about the security systems, but Johnny was only able to produce a few details. He mentioned a prisoner kept in an isolated building. This really got Gunn excited. “Weren’t you able to find out who he was, not even a clue?”
“I think he—or she—was inside a caged building under separate guard. I can’t remember if anyone I spoke to had anything to do with them.”
Maman and Gunn turned to each other. “Whoever it is must be important, or dangerous,” said Gunn with a special light in his eyes.
“And they must be really scared of him or her to separate them like that,” agreed Maman. “Do you think the wire mesh means something?”
“It could be to prevent communication with the outside world, by radio waves or microwave. Perhaps they have a form of comms rewrite…”
“We’ve got to find out who it is,” said Maman.
“Yes, we could use ability like that. It’s not going to be easy to try and get everybody out of the Zone.”
While they were getting excited, I nuzzled up to Johnny. My whole body tingled with a different sort of electricity as our hands touched and part of my mind began to wonder if we could communicate with each other on a data transfer level this way. I could see Maman glancing with distaste at my behaviour.
Touché, I thought. We walked off together to the office.
“Come on, let’s think about what you’re going to do about this invitation from your dad,” I said.
“Yes. It could be a trap,” said Johnny. “He is a government man. But I’ve got to find out more about myself. There’s still big gaps in my knowledge. You’ve no idea what it’s like reaching for memories and finding chunks of blankness. Some of it could be really important. So maybe I should see him.”
“How did he find your email address anyway?”
“They could easily have stolen it from my system while I was in the CGR,” he said. “I’m going to email him and find out more. I’ll set up a new account just for that purpose to protect myself. No harm in that, is there?”
I wasn’t sure. But that’s what he did, and an answer came promptly back.
I can assure you there is no subterfuge in my desire to see you. You will at all times be free to leave. But I do so want to meet the son I have missed for two years. I didn’t even know if you were still alive. There is much I have to tell you, which I think will be of great interest…
With very best wishes, Your father, David
“He sure writes funny,” I said. “So formal.”
“Yeah,” said Johnny. “Stiff as a board.”
“Well?” I said.
“I have to see him,” he said. “Or I will forever wonder what it was about.”
There followed a flurry of emails while arrangements were made. We would meet the following day at his father’s house.
“Shouldn’t you meet somewhere neutral?” I asked.
“There is nowhere neutral,” Johnny said, “if you think about it. The security forces can go anywhere and monitor anywhere they want to. For all we know they are monitoring us now. So if he chooses his own house to meet at, he must have a reason.”
“We’ll have to tell Thom and Maman,” I said.
We returned to that mezzanine level where Gunn and Maman were plotting. All the other kids were elsewhere in a training session being run by one of the older hybrids. When Johnny told him what he wanted to do, Gunn shifted uneasily in his chair, nervously drumming his rifle against the desk.
“Don’t like it,” he said. “For all we know they’ll capture you, drain your memory banks and find out all about us.”
“But I have to go,” Johnny said. “Surely you can understand?”
“Bad attitude, kid,” said Gunn. “The HRA saved your life and we’re the only hope left for hybrids, far as I’m aware. I can’t have us put at risk like that.”
“But you can’t stop us going!” I said.
“Johnny, this is not just about you,” Gunn said. “It’s about all of us. You better learn to accept orders. Find another way to get your memory back.”
“Orders?” said Johnny. “I don’t recall having agreed to join your army.”
“There’s a war on, boy,” said Gunn. “It’s us or them. And if you’re not on their side you must be on ours, whether you like it or not. Ergo, you’re a soldier now. Besides, we took our inspiration from what you wrote —the Declaration. ‘Hybrids must unite’—remember that?”
“I do remember now. But this kind of outfit is not what I had in mind.” Johnny took my hand. “Come on, let’s go.”
As we were descending the steps I heard Maman murmur in Gunn’s ear, thinking I couldn’t hear: “Thom, why not let him go, but keep Kes here. She is only fifteen.”
I turned back. “Maman! That’s not fair!”
“But I want you here with me, darling.”
“You’re only saying that because you don’t like Johnny!” I shouted. “But how do you think I feel about him?” I pointed at Gunn.
Gunn moved quickly to defuse the situation. “Hey, hey, let’s change the subject.”
“Yes, yes, what a good idea,” agreed Maman hurriedly.
“Look what we’re doing, Johnny. As you wrote, ‘If the government does not protect us, then hybrids have no choice but to defend themselves, by any means at their disposal’. That’s what we’re doing. See this map? The location of every Gene Police station in London. Here’s the Quarantine Zone. And here is the CGR. Now soon they plan to close down the CGR and move its operations into the Zone. All hybrids and those who work with them will be in there. Here’s the route from the CGR to the Zone. We reckon, as they come here, through Bermondsey, that we can ambush a convoy. Pick them off, guerrilla style. We will try to target the special prisoner you told us about. What do you think?”
Johnny thought. “You really want to know what I think?” he said. “You’re living in a dreamworld.”
“You what?” said Gunn with genuine confusion. Some of the kids had started wandering into the mess room below. They looked up when they heard us.
Johnny sighed. “Don’t you realise what you’re up against? You seem to think this is like some comic book adventure and you’re superheroes. Instead, it’s just a bunch of sad, scared and dangerous people running around and smashing into each other, causing damage cos they didn’t think through the consequences of what they were doing. It’s all random.”
I found myself nodding in agreement.
“No,” said Maman. “What we want is a better world. They’re just selfish.”
“I bet that’s what they believe too,” I said to her.
“Who was it once talked about the selfish gene?” continued Johnny. “Have you thought about that? It’s our genes inside us making us look out for our best interests, trying to get passed on to the next generation. You and the government are just pawns of your genes acting out roles they’ve decided for you. Well, I am fed up with it all. I don’t want to be anybody’s pawn.”
“You should side with your friends, with those whose interests you share,” added Maman. “Of all people you should know that.”
“You mean this ragged army?” said Johnny, and there was a gasp from those below who were listening. I grabbed his hand, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Sure I believe in solidarity, but you don’t stand a chance against the Gene Police, the army and the SAS once they get wind of you. Besides, who makes all the decisions round here? This hardly seems to be an example of democracy and co-operation—just a one man show!”
The whole room was silent and watching. “Thom.” It was Maman’s turn to step between us and Gunn and whisper to him. “It’s clear we have to let them go. Both of them.”
“But an army relies on discipline, on order,” Gunn hissed. “If we don’t have discipline, we’re lost. That’s what my dad taught me. We have to make an example of them.”
“Yes, but suppose we say we’re giving them compassionate leave?” she whispered.
Gunn relaxed a little and looked down at all the pairs of eyes waiting to see what he would do. “All right,” he relented and turned to Johnny. “We can’t stop you going to meet your dad. But in return you must help us. You must try to find out more about that prisoner. You must find a way to tell us.”
“OK, I’ll try,” said Johnny, realising it was the only way we would be let out.
“And take every precaution to protect your memories of here. I dunno—delete them, encrypt them, whatever.”
“I promise.”
“And don’t expect me ever to come and rescue you again. I’ve got all these other soldiers to take care of. And we have a war to prepare for!” And he turned back to all those faces which gazed up in admiration. I felt kind of sick.
Johnny and I went down and left the warehouse. Nobody stopped us, not even the former Flotsam.
The next morning we gathered what few possessions we had and were ready to go. Johnny took my hand in his. “You don’t have to come with me, you know,” he said.
I glared at him with a look that would melt lead. “I know. But now I’ve found you again, I’m never going to let you out of my sight. We’re together to the end, OK?”
His body was shaking with emotion. “Yes. To the end. I promise. The only thing is—”
“What?” I asked suddenly afraid.
“Nothing,” he said.
I went to say goodbye to Maman. We hugged, knowing it was possible we might never see each other again, but afraid to say so.
“You have to go, don’t you,” she said.
I nodded. “And you have to stay.”
She nodded.
“Take care, OK?” I said.
“Bien sûr. Et toi,” said she, a tear in her eye. “Je t’aime. Adieu, ma chérie.”
Johnny said goodbye to Slash, Metal Gristle and the other Flotsam, who wished us good luck.
Slash said: “You’ll be back, right?”
“Sure,” said Johnny.
“Well, good luck—we’re behind you, Pixelface. And take care. The Gene Police have eyes everywhere.”
Johnny then took my hand and led me through the door to the outside world, the world of Keep Britain Normal.
Soon we were in an electric taxi purring across London. Maman had given us the number of a minicab firm whose owner was sympathetic to hybrids. We hid on the floor behind the seat so no one outside would see us, unable to avoid the endless patter of the middle-aged driver.
“You wouldn’t believe how bad it’s got. No end of taxi firms gone down the tube. Everybody afraid to go out, see? Nobody’s got any dosh anyway what with the crash an’ all. An’ as for the tourist trade, bottom’s fallen so far out of the market it’s at the bottom of the Atlantic. America, land of the brave? Don’t make me laugh. Nobody’s seen a Yank for ten month round ’ere. They’re all scared they’ll catch summat nasty, an’ you know what that means! As if any tourist has picked anything up from a dirty weekend in Soho apart from the clap.”
“What about you?” I asked. “Aren’t you afraid yourself—you might get the auto rewrite?”
“Look, girlie, if I’m gonna pick anything up, I’ll pick it up no matter what I do. I been drivin’ a cab for twenty year an’ it’s never done me no ‘arm. Natcherly we take precautions—we change the cab every quarter so I don’t get too close to one model. Costs a bob or two but—D’ya hear about Pete of Camberwell Motors? Shockin’. ’E came down with it—only passed ’is test six months. His ma wouldn’t even let him in the garage. Lived in a lock-up in Norwood till someone shopped him and them Gene Police tossers came and towed ’im to Peckham.”
I contemplated the life of Pete, cowering in the dark in a smelly lock-up garage in South London, relying on his friends to bring him food, oil and water and dreading every set of approaching footfalls outside.
I turned to Johnny, my hand on his leg. He was miles away, perhaps surfing the net somewhere through the onboard system. Outside, London sped past. Traffic hadn’t flowed this freely for sixty years. It was eerie. This was what fear did to city life.
“Missus has been goin’ on at me to stop for months. I says to ’er, who’s going to bring ’ome the bacon? She don’t make enough dosh cleaning airports specially since ’ardly anyone comes ’ere any more. And me drugs bill—them Recombi-Norms and the like—cost nearly as much as the mortgage.”
And that was money going straight into the bank account of Papa’s company, I reflected.
“Mind you, one silver lining to all this—you don’t ’ave to listen to people having loud, intimate conversations on their mobile phones any more, do yer? And the phut-phut-phut of their iPods.”
He broke off into a wheezy laugh. I asked him what he thought was the cause of the pandemic.
“Bleedin’ obvious, innit? It’s the Chinese. Who makes all them gadgets we use? They’ve gone and put some bug into ’em so they can take over when we’re all compost. They’re just jealous, in’t they?”
“Jealous? What of?” I said. This was a new one on me.
“Our country. Over there it’s either too ’ot or too dry, not enough food, an’ their coastal cities is all drownin’. When we’re gone they’ll colonise ’ere, see?”
I lapsed into silence. Everybody had a theory about where the virus came from. For some it was CIA labs in America: the Yanks wanted to destroy Europe as a commercial competitor. For others it was GM food or nanotechnology—bugs loosed into the environment that had started evolving and got out of control. Some said it was because we were too reliant on material goods and needed to get back to living on the land: the plague was nature’s revenge against humanity. Then there were those who believed human beings were now redundant and this was another stage in evolution. And some religious nutters thought we were being punished by God for either a) worshipping material goods, b) our immoral lifestyle, or c) not praying often enough. Creep was the Devil’s work.
I squeezed Johnny’s hand. It felt so good to be with him now. He turned to look at me.
“What do you mean?”
“You look worried.”
“Yes, it’s Maman. I was looking for her for so long and imagining all kinds of awful things had happened…even that she was dead. And when I found her…”
“…you discovered she’d gone simply because she wanted to,” said Johnny, voicing my thoughts.
“Oh, how could she love that macho jerk?”
“Nearly there,” announced the driver suddenly. “Twickenham.”
We risked a peep through the window: a leafy avenue with massive houses hidden up long drives behind acres of wooded grounds.
“Bloody posh, isn’t it? Wonder how he can afford to live here?” said Johnny.
“This isn’t where you grew up?”
“Can’t remember. Don’t think so though.”
The car lurched to the left throwing Johnny on to me. We took the opportunity to hug and he whispered, “I feel like a mouse walking into a lion’s cage.”
We paid off the cab and it scrunched away over the gravel. Hand in hand we turned to look at where it had left us. Night had almost fallen, and a few lamps lit the way through the gloom beneath arching beeches. We started walking.
“Even when I was at home, my dad was so distant we never connected. I wonder why he really wants to see me? I bet it’s not to give me the keys to the family home.”
“Whatever it is, we’ll face it together,” I said.
“Yes, but—”
“What?”
“Never mind.”
“What is it, Johnny? There’s something troubling you too, isn’t there?”
“I’m not Johnny, Kestrella.”
I was suddenly afraid. “What do you mean?”
“I mean I’m changing. How do you know I’m the person you think you love? I have no idea who I am, so how can you know?”
I breathed again. “I just do, silly. It doesn’t matter what you call yourself, you’re still the same sweet guy. It’s how you behave that matters. Stop thinking so much!”
“I dunno. Thinking seems to be what I’m made to do. Anyway. Come on. We might as well go and see what my dad’s like.”
We rounded a bend in the drive to discover a large Georgian structure fronted by a portico flanked by a pair of stone lions. The main house had at least four storeys, including the attic, and there were a number of outbuildings.
Johnny let out a long whistle through his speaker. “Ah well, here goes nothing.”
And he led me up the steps to knock on the front door.