Arrows of Time - Kim Falconer [185]
According to the archives, this had been a heavily trafficked air transport complex before the ‘conflict’. He laughed at the euphemism. ‘Holocaust’ would be a more accurate description for what had happened in his world, but ASSIST was big on prevarication. Whatever it had been, this Flight Centre now marked the edge of the Borderlands—a place with horrors of its own, supposedly. At least it existed, and was not a fabrication of ASSIST.
He took a deep breath. If this was the gnashing hell he had been led to believe, he welcomed it. It looked more like paradise to him. He turned full circle, arms outstretched, taking it in. A mountain filled his view. It was jagged and snow-capped. Majestic. His eyes welled again.
Insects of some kind chanted in the midday heat. He brushed one from his face and laughed. He couldn’t believe such luxuriance of nature existed only a few hours’ flight from the city. Why hadn’t he come here sooner? He’d had all the status and credits he needed, but, like his colleagues, he’d been led to believe the world was wretched beyond the protection of the sector walls. Not until the recent death of his Jane Doe did he start to wonder, to research for himself what was ‘out there’. Standing in the abandoned airstrip and seeing where she must have come from, he began to understand her better.
Everett had uncovered an underground contact while searching the history of the Borderlands. The contact was eager and the requirements clear. He had a way into this new world, this strange culture that had sidestepped the regimented and endless life offered by the Allied States One. He exhaled. They were to meet him here. He only had to wait.
As the heat brought perspiration to his forehead, he heard their voices. They were unmistakably human, and unmistakably happy. The conversations and laughter rode the breeze. In the distance several people were walking up the road, heading straight for him. This was it. First contact.
He waved, the other hand going to his pocket, automatically checking for the tiny cryo case. It was there, safely zipped into the lining of his jacket. He wouldn’t rush, he told himself. He’d do what he came here for—establish the in vitro fertility program for those who wanted to conceive, and somewhere along the line he’d find the perfect host for his project, none the wiser. But he would know, and eventually he would discover the secrets of the egg he’d harvested—a DNA combination that had left him awestruck. Jane Doe’s child would have answers to questions he’d not even considered. He was sure of it. ‘Hello.’ He projected his voice, searching their faces.
Everett knew he was about to make a deadly deal, and so did these people. They had been sterilised for a reason—ASSIST’s internal protection protocol—and if he were discovered reversing that process, his life would be suspended. Why he’d been compelled to turn his back on ASSIST—the safety, predictability and longevity they provided—to offer medical aid to the Borderlands shocked him at first until he acknowledged his feelings. It was simply a sense of hope. As he looked around, he knew that his hope had been answered—paradise on Earth. These people never had to know what else he would get in return.
He patted the case and put both hands in the air, waving his enthusiasm as well as his lack of weapons, just in case. ‘I’m Everett Kelly,’ he said, extending his hand to the woman who greeted him. ‘Dr Everett Kelly.’
‘Regina De Luth,’ she said and introduced the half-dozen adults accompanying her.