Monster Republic (6 page)

‘
Subjects
,’ echoed Cameron, recalling Fry’s chillingly emotionless use of the word.

‘Yeah, subjects. Fry was trying to blend
human genetics with animals, to create hybrid soldiers with cybernetic enhancements, like the Bloodhounds. But anyone who didn’t come up to his exacting standards – well, you’ve seen the waste disposal system first hand.’

Cameron nodded, shuddering. ‘Up close and personal.’

‘And back in the early days, most of Fry’s subjects
did
have some kind of weakness, and that just wasn’t good enough for the doctor. Take me,’ Rora continued. ‘I’m quick. Brilliant reflexes, light on my feet – but I’m only good for short bursts. Stamina, I don’t have.’

‘So, wait – you were one of Fry’s failures?’

‘A Reject. Yeah.’ Rora’s voice held a strange blend of pride and bitterness. ‘A few of us got wise to what happened to those who didn’t make the grade, so we broke out. Some of us died in the attempt, but better to go out fighting for freedom than dumped in the crusher, yeah?’

‘I guess,’ grunted Cameron. There didn’t seem to be any other answer.

‘Anyway, those of us who escaped, we
banded together. The government didn’t look after us, so we’ve created our own. We call it the Monster Republic. We don’t have a home, but we had to at least give ourselves some kind of name. Makes us feel like we’re part of something. Something that matters.’

Rora looked at Cameron seriously. He suspected she could see in his eyes the hard time he was having coming to terms with her fantastic story. Well, in the one eye that showed any human expression at all.

‘Now we live in hiding,’ she went on. ‘Moving from place to place in the town, or under it. And for the last couple of years we’ve been doing what we can to strike back at Fry, trying to mess up his plans and make dents in this saintly reputation he’s managed to build up for himself. You remember all those power cuts last winter?’

Cameron nodded.

‘That was us. We were trying to interfere with a new load of experiments Fry was doing. We hoped the authorities might start investigating, but they didn’t. Or if they did,
Fry managed to buy them off.’ Rora’s voice was low and bitter.

‘We also watch the lab, looking out for other Rejects who manage to escape.’ She stared hard at Cameron again. ‘This was the first time we’ve broken back into the building though.’

Cameron shook his head. ‘But why? Why now and why me?’

Rora sighed. ‘This is where it gets complicated. About a month ago, our mole inside the lab, Jason, managed to make contact with the Prime Minister and tell him the truth about what the Divinity Project was doing. He was furious. Told Fry to suspend the project pending an investigation.’

‘I’m not surprised,’ said Cameron.

‘Yeah, but Fry didn’t suspend it,’ replied Rora. ‘He stepped it up. First, the day after he spoke to the Prime Minister, Jason vanished. Then, two days later, Fry collected a whole new bunch of subjects.’

‘How?’

Rora bit her lip. ‘He planted a bomb at Broad Harbour power plant.’

‘Whoa, whoa, whoa!’ Cameron raised his hands. This girl was getting way ahead of him. ‘You’re saying
Fry
caused the explosion?
Deliberately?
’

‘Think about it: all the injured victims were taken to Fry’s private clinic instead of the hospital. Right after the “accident”, Fry made this big public announcement about how he was going to pay for special treatment, and make sure all those kids were given the best care possible. But surprise, surprise: so far none of them have managed to recover. Meanwhile – and this isn’t public knowledge, of course – all the bodies of the dead kids were secretly transferred from the city morgue to the lab.’

‘Wait,’ repeated Cameron. ‘When did you say this was?’

‘Twenty-seven days ago.’

‘Twenty-seven? I’ve been out of it for nearly a
month?
’

‘I’m afraid so. I know that’ll come as a shock.’

That was putting it mildly. Cameron shook
his head. A month had never sounded so long before.

‘If you don’t believe me, take a look at yourself,’ said Rora. ‘Fry didn’t do all that work on you overnight.’

Cameron stared down at his right arm, where gears and pistons were still visible through the teeth-marks the Bloodhound had left in his artificial skin. What Rora was saying sounded impossible, but it did make a terrible, twisted sort of sense.

Rora pressed on relentlessly, hatred burning in her eyes like dark flame. ‘Then, a couple of weeks ago, we found out more. Before he disappeared, Jason managed to plant a remote microphone in the lab. From a couple of conversations we overheard, we learned that Fry was using the bodies he’d harvested from the accident to build new human–machine hybrids more powerful than anything he’d achieved before. That was when we realized what he was up to.’

‘What?’

‘He was going to use them to destroy the
Monster Republic.’

‘But why?’ Cameron’s head was spinning. He couldn’t make sense of any of this.

Rora shrugged. ‘We’re a danger to him – the living proof of his botched experiments. If the Prime Minister’s investigators found out about us, he would be finished.’

‘So why don’t you go to the police?’

‘Yeah, right,’ snapped Rora. ‘Everyone in this town thinks Fry is their guardian angel. Who’s going to believe a bunch of freaky-looking kids? We’d end up being stoned to death by an angry mob, or banged up in another lab, with another bunch of scientists running tests twenty-four/seven. No thanks.’

Cameron felt stupid for having even suggested it. He’d just experienced at first hand how ‘normal’ people had reacted to seeing him.

‘Besides,’ muttered Rora, ‘we had a better plan. The first hybrid off this new production line was you. But it seems that you were only partially successful.’

Cameron remembered Fry leaning over
him, delivering his verdict:
Barely acceptable.
He’d never had anything nearly as damning as that in his school reports.

‘Whatever the reason, Fry deactivated you while he built a second prototype,’ Rora continued. ‘But he didn’t throw you away. That meant that sooner or later he was bound to break you out of storage and work on you some more – but we saw our chance.’

Rora was growing more animated now. ‘From what we heard through Jason’s mic, we knew that you hadn’t been fully programmed when they shut you down. Not conditioned to obey Fry without question like the Bloodhounds are. So we figured that if we could spring you from the lab and get you on
our
side, we’d stand a chance of fighting back, whatever Fry had to throw against us. So that’s why I came to find you, and that’s why you’re here.’

‘No,’ said Cameron, shaking his head as if he could dislodge the words that Rora had spoken. He refused to believe it. ‘Cyborgs? Animal-human hybrids? A nutty professor working for the government blowing up a
nuclear power station to create an army of mutants? This is science fiction, not something that happens in Broad Harbour.’

‘Really?’ Rora looked at him with disgust or impatience, Cameron couldn’t quite tell which. ‘You’ve seen yourself in the mirror. How do you explain it?’

Cameron turned away, staring into the night and hoping the darkness would blot out what he remembered of that reflection in the laboratory window.

‘I’m not sure what I saw.’

‘Yeah, right. Welcome to denial.’ Rora hopped off the bench and landed in front of him. ‘We’ve all been there, Cameron. And you know what? After a month or two, you can’t argue with the truth any more and you learn to accept what you are. But you, you’re special. And I’m Sorry but you don’t get the luxury of time. You have to wake up and accept what you are now.’

‘Huh.’ That sounded like a raw deal to Cameron.

‘And if you really need more proof, here it
is.’ Rora glanced left and right, as though making sure there were no passers-by to catch sight of something they shouldn’t.

And then she changed.

It was like watching a werewolf movie. Rora’s already-dark eyes deepened to solid black and her fine auburn hair grew rapidly, thickening to fur all over her morphing features. Her fingers flexed and stretched, scalpel-sharp claws snicking out of the tips. Her mouth swelled and she peeled back her lips to reveal a serious set of fangs. She was still very much human-shaped, but there was more of the fox about her now than ever.

‘There now,’ she said. ‘That’s something you can’t argue with.’

She was right, Cameron was lost for words. All he could do was stare at her while his brain struggled to catch up with his eyes.

‘And before you ask – no, I don’t have a tail.’

For a moment Rora eyeballed Cameron. Then, almost imperceptibly, her mouth twitched into a grin, and Cameron found
himself smiling for the first time since he had woken in the lab. It felt strange, as if his face had forgotten how to do it, but there was a funny sense of relief at the same time, even if it did hurt his stitches.

‘So,’ he said finally. ‘Fox. Bloodhounds.’ He gestured around the park. ‘Are you expecting a load of toffs in red jackets to come jumping over the hedge on horses?’

Rora’s smile faded. ‘This isn’t a joke, Cameron.’

‘I know,’ he replied. ‘But if all this is true – what you said about me being the first of a new batch – then there could be more people like me.’ Cameron pictured a face exactly like the one he had seen in that reflection. ‘More monsters.’

‘Well, I guess we know which one of you is the brains of this outfit.’

Cameron’s heart skipped a beat.

He and Rora spun round simultaneously to face the figure standing in the shadows between the trees. The shape was little more than a silhouette, but Cameron knew who it
was. He’d know her voice anywhere.

‘Marie?’

Part of him wanted to rush forward and give her a huge hug, but something stopped him. In the chaos of his visit home and their flight to the park, he had forgotten about her again, and he felt another hot flood of shame. Until now, he’d had no idea she was even alive. Would she understand if he told her how crazy things had been?

She stepped lightly towards him, her movements as graceful as ever, and Cameron suddenly felt ugly and self-conscious, wishing he could hide his hideous new face. Then he remembered – Marie had been standing just behind him when the explosion happened. She must have been hurt too.

‘Are you all right?’

‘I’m fine. I’m better than fine.’

Marie’s voice was soft, but there was something in the way she spoke that unsettled Cameron. As she got closer, he prayed that she was telling the truth; that she wasn’t hurt or scarred.

Marie stepped into the light.

She had lost her lovely hair, he could see that much. It was close-cropped – like a soldier’s – and he thought he could pick out the ridgeline of a scar on the side of her head. She was wearing combat trousers and a short vest that showed off her slender waist.

Coming up close to him, Marie took hold of both his hands and tilted her head towards him. Cameron gazed into her face, and suddenly he knew that everything was going to be all right.

Marie smiled her beautiful smile.

‘Reckon you can fly, Reilly?’

And then she hurled him halfway across the park.

Cameron crashed into a tree, the impact knocking the wind out of him. But it was nothing compared to the blow he’d been dealt on hearing those words. It had been Marie’s voice, but the words had belonged unmistakably to Carl Monkton. Cameron had heard him use them at the power plant. But why would Marie be repeating them now?

Cameron was still struggling to make sense of it when Marie came striding over. Rora chased after her and made a diving tackle for her legs, but despite the fox-girl’s light-footed steps, Marie must have heard her, because
she spun round, kicking out to send Rora’s small frame flying.

Cameron rose to his feet, but by the time he was up, Marie was right there in front of him again. Her fist shot out and punched him in the face, hard. Cameron staggered backwards, tasting blood. He touched a finger to his mouth.

‘What are you doing, Marie? What’s going on?’

Cameron’s brain couldn’t process what was happening. It was Marie he was looking at, but she’d never been violent. And certainly never so strong. He glanced past her to see Rora getting to her feet, clutching her side.

‘Dr Fry wants a word with you,’ said Marie.

‘OK. That’s good. I was just thinking I might turn myself in,’ lied Cameron, stalling for time.

‘Coming back with your tail between your legs?’ sneered Marie. ‘That figures. What a wuss – you make me puke.’ She mimed sticking her fingers in her mouth. ‘I don’t know why Dr Fry wants you back, but he does. So I think
I’ll just keep batting you in his general direction.’

Marie punched him again, square on the jaw. As Cameron reeled away, she grabbed hold of his shoulders, slammed him back against the tree, and drove her knee into his stomach. He struggled to get his arms up to push her off, but she locked an iron grip around his wrist, then wedged her forearm up under his chin, pinning him in place. She thrust her beautiful face into his and he finally got a good look at her eyes. They were cold, like steel.

Marie’s eyes and not Marie’s eyes.

Cameron’s mind raced. Perhaps as well as enhancing Marie’s body with superhuman strength, Fry had done something to her mind. Hypnosis, maybe. Something that was making her talk and act like Carl. But even so, there had to be something left of Marie inside. Surely he could get through to her?

He could feel her arm against his throat, squeezing his windpipe closed.

‘Marie …’ he choked.

‘
Marie
. Oh,
Marie
,’ she whined, mocking him, and gave a horrible laugh. ‘I’ve got news for you, buddy. Dr Fry gave your girlfriend a new personality. Mine!’

Cameron’s stomach lurched sickeningly. It couldn’t be true. Surely even Dr Fry wasn’t twisted enough to put one person’s mind in another person’s body? It wasn’t possible. But even as he recoiled from the thought, part of Cameron’s brain was telling him that was precisely what had happened with Carl and Marie.