THE FOREVER GENE (THE SCIONS OF EARTH Book 1) (36 page)

He and Eunice sat with Pris for an hour, staring at her pale, thin face.  Then he went through to the dining room and joined Chunky at the small table.  He ran his fingers through his dirty, overlong hair before speaking.  "I saw the Prince of South Boston again, but he has had no stock for weeks."  He kept his voice low so that Eunice could not hear.  "Or so he says.  I'm sure he has stock available for the highest bidder.  And the pushers in Telegraph Hill told me to get lost and never come back."

"There is nothing north of the river, either."  Chunky said, staring down at the table.  "There is only one place we can get what she needs.  And it won't cost us anything.  All we have to do is take her there."

David shook his head.  "Not the Faerie Folk again, we have been through this.  How can we trust them after what they did?"

"We have to," replied Chunky.  "We have no choice.  The gangs are not going to sell us what we need; we simply can't pay them enough.  You know that as well as me.  There is a shuttle landing at the common tomorrow morning.  It was announced on the Personet.  We have to take her."

David was still unconvinced.  "You don't know what will happen to us if we go there.  They probably won't even let us on board.  Or, if they do, how do you know they won't take the opportunity to shut us up for good?  I haven't exactly been showering them with praise since they came back."  He shook his head wearily.  "I can't believe that everyone still thinks they are here to help.  Look what happened the last time they decided to help us."

"David, I don't disagree with you and I don't like them any more than you do.  All I am saying is that we have no other options."

"She can't take much more of this," said Eunice quietly from the doorway.  "Her body is going to start shutting down any time now.  The painkillers should see her through the night.  But then we have to break her fever."

David put his head in his hands.  "I know, I know.  But putting her life in the hands of the beings that caused all of this in the first place makes no sense."

"No it doesn't," said Eunice.  "But Charles is right, we have to take her."

"I'll do it," said Chunky.  "We don't all have to go."

"No," said David.  "I'll take her.  She is not going into the lion's den without me."

"We will all go," said Eunice.  "We should stay together."

There was no further argument from David or Chunky.

The following morning they packed what they thought they might need and set out for the common.  Although it was cold outside, they dressed Pris lightly so as not to exacerbate her fever.  David carried her the whole way.  She was as light as a feather and he couldn't believe how much weight she had lost.

They walked straight down Marlborough Street and then followed the paths through the public garden.  But when they reached Charles Street, they found that they couldn't go any further.  The way onto the common was blocked by a cordon of armed men.  David could see the shuttle in the background, but the cordon was controlling access to it.  The crowd was growing larger by the minute and people were starting to push and shove.

He craned his neck, frantically trying to see over the heads of the people in front of him.  In the distance he saw a familiar face.  He handed Pris to Chunky and started to push his way forward.  "Stay here," he said over his shoulder.  "I'll find out what this is all about."  The people between him and the cordon were not happy for him to push his way forward, but no-one actively tried to stop him.  When he got through, he found himself face to face with Westside Phil, one of the gangsters who collected taxes for the Back Bay gang.  He recognised one or two other gang members among the men of the cordon.

"Phil," he shouted, catching the man's attention.  "What the hell is going on?"

"Haven't you heard?" said the gangster.  "This is the last shuttle, man.  The Greenies ain't sending any more after today.  The price of admission to the common just went up."

David's heart sank.  Of all the problems he had foreseen, this was not one of them.  "Look, Phil, my wife is very sick.  No-one will sell me the medicine she needs.  I have to get her to that shuttle."

Phil nodded sagely.  "You won't mind paying the fee, then."  The price he named was astronomical.  David tried to bargain with him, but he wouldn't budge.

David fought his way back to the others.  If he, Chunky, and Eunice put together everything they had, it was just enough for one person.  It took a couple of hours for them to work their way back to Phil.  He gave David an oily smile.  "Got your money ready?" he asked.

David paid him what they had.  Phil looked at him coldly.  "This isn't nearly enough for four of you," he said.

"It's enough for her," said David.  "I told you, she is very sick.  She can't even walk.  I am going to have to carry her in."

Phil looked over his shoulder and beckoned one of the other gang members.  The thug moved closer, waving his laser repeater threateningly.  Phil turned back and gave David another smile.  "You're right," he said.  "It is enough for her.  And I can see that someone has to carry her, I'm not stupid."

His smile disappeared.  "But not you."  He pointed at Chunky.  "He can take her in on condition he comes straight back out again.  And to make sure that he does, you are staying here with me."

David glared at him.  "Fine," he said, "but she is unconscious.  She will need her mother to stay with her on the shuttle."

Without giving Phil a chance to reply, he shoved Pris into Chunky's arms and pushed him and Eunice towards a gap in the cordon.

"But David…" said Chunky.

"Just go, I'll wait for you here."

"Very touching," sneered Phil, but he made no move to stop Chunky, Eunice, and Pris as they walked through the cordon and made their way towards the shuttle.

David waited until they were inside and then reached into his pocket.

"I'll give you my apartment," he said, taking out the keys and offering them to Phil.

"What?" said the gangster.

"I'll give you the apartment on Marlborough Street if you let me through."

Phil laughed humourlessly.  "I can take that anytime I want," he said.  "You'll have to come up with something better than that."

David could see that he wasn't going to get anywhere with the man and pushed his way back out of the crush of people around the cordon.  When he was out of sight of the gangsters, he checked that the Personet was up and called Chunky.

He answered immediately.  "Hi, we are on the shuttle."

"I know," said David.  "How is Pris, have they seen her yet?"

"Yes, they checked her condition and treated her immediately.  They gave her meds to fight the infection and put her on a drip.  The physician who saw her says that she should recover."

David closed his eyes with relief.  "That's good.  You were right; we should have brought her sooner."

"She'll be fine now," he replied. "That's the important thing.  I can see the colour coming back into her face already."

"Did you have any problems getting in?"

"No, there is no screening process or anything.  We have been worrying for nothing; they don't care about who we are at all.  They aren't concerned about people using their 'links either, in fact they are actively encouraging people to get their families together and stay on board.  Anyway, I'll wait a few minutes to see how Pris is doing and then I'll come back outside."

David took a deep breath.  "No," he said.  "Stay there.  I have been thinking about what you and Pris have been saying.  What kind of life is left for us here?  We have lost everything we worked for and the city is now controlled by goons like Westside Phil.  And what happens if Pris gets sick again?  Or Eunice, or one of us?  We don't have the money to buy the right meds and the Faerie Folk won't be around."

"What are you saying?" asked Chunky.

"I'm saying that we should go with them and start a new life.  If they really aren't concerned about us, then why should we be concerned about them?"

"But how are you going to get onto the shuttle?" Chunky asked pragmatically.  "How will you get through the cordon?"

"Let me worry about that."  Having made the decision to go, David was determined to find a way.  "I'm not completely out of ideas.  Can you find out when the shuttle is leaving?  I need to know how much time I have."

"I will ask around," said Chunky.  "Be careful, don't do anything stupid."  He ended the call.

Once, that last comment would have made David smile.  Before the collapse of Forever Incorporated, Chunky had always been the irresponsible one.  But the events of the last few months had muted his devil-may-care attitude.  He had become quieter and more withdrawn.  He had even lost weight, recovering some of his old football player physique.

David had changed too, if he was honest with himself.  He had by no means become reckless but, with nothing left to lose, he was prepared to take risks he would never have contemplated before.

He decided to check the rest of the cordon while he waited for Chunky's call.  There might be a section which was not well guarded.  For an hour he tested the perimeter.  But there were thugs with laser repeaters spaced evenly the whole way around.  He tried negotiating his way through at a few places but found that the gang was disciplined and well organised.  The admission fee was the same, no matter who he asked.  He tried bribery again, going as far as offering the mansion, but the gangsters just stared at him blankly.  They were in the Back Bay gang; how could they go and live in the hills?

By the time David got back to where he had started, he knew that there was no way in.  The only thing he could think of was to go back to the apartment and sell what he could to raise the fee.  He was walking back along Marlborough Street when Chunky called.

"David, you had better get a move on, the shuttle is almost full.  A physician I spoke to says that they are leaving soon and that they are not coming back.  I managed to find one of the pilots, who says that this is the last day the Faerie Folk are sending shuttles to Earth.  He says that the star ships are also almost full and that they will be taking off as soon as today's shuttles have returned."

David stopped walking.  "Chunky, I can't sneak through the cordon.  It is too tight and the gang members refuse to be bribed.  How much time do I have?  Maybe I can sell everything in the apartment and raise enough for the fee.  Hell, maybe I can sell the apartment itself."

"You don't have more than an hour or two," said Chunky doubtfully.  "I think your best bet is to try another shuttle.  The pilot told me that there are two others in Boston at the moment.  One is north of the river at Donnelly Field and the other is at Joe Moakley Park near the old harbour.  They both landed later than this shuttle, so they should have less people on board.  Try Joe Moakley first, the Prince is in control of that area and he at least knows you."

"It's too far," said David.  "Even if I run all the way, it will take me hours to get there."

"Use the car, stupid," said Chunky.

David had forgotten about the car.  The battered old Lamborghini Aventador had once been his pride and joy.  He bought it when the Factory had posted its first multi-million dollar profit.  In its time it was state of the art, but its massive engine chewed a lot of fuel and it was soon relegated to dinosaur status by vehicles sporting the new air-vortex technology.  As the years went by he had used it sparingly and tended it lovingly.  Unfortunately, fuel had become more and more expensive, and eventually it had been locked away in a basement and forgotten.

When the Factory folded and everything had been sold, the old sports car had been deemed worthless.  In an environment where the price of fuel was exorbitant, an ancient gas-guzzler like the Aventador was just so much scrap metal.

Desperate to retain some reminder of his past glory, he had taken the old car and stored it in an unused garage nearby. When the latest fuel crisis began, he spent some money buying two full tanks on the black market, reasoning that he would keep the scarce liquid for a rainy day.  Well, it was metaphorically raining and Chunky was right; it was time to use the car.

For a moment, he thought about trading the fuel, but there wasn't time to find someone with the cash to buy it, and if he offered it to Phil or one of his cronies, he risked the gangsters simply taking it off him.  The best thing he could do was to use the car to get to Joe Moakley Park.

He hurried back to the apartment and dug the ancient car keys out from under a loose floorboard.  It had begun to rain, so he shrugged on his overcoat before running around the corner into Beacon Street.  He found the dilapidated garage and shouldered open the warped old door.  The brilliant orange paintwork had faded somewhat, but the old Lamborghini was still an impressive sight.  He cleared some junk away from the doorway and climbed into the driver's seat.

Turning the key, he held his breath, wondering how the engine would react.  He couldn't remember when he had last started it.  After a couple of minutes of whining and coughing, the old V12 roared to life.  David's heart gave a leap; he had forgotten the fantastic sound it made.  He eased the car out of the garage and into the deserted street.  It seemed that everyone had gone to the common, attracted by the sideshow taking place there.