Eden Read online

  “Looks almost pretty,” Cove said.

  “Pretty like cancer,” her dad said, and Jenn caught her breath. Guilt bit in. It always did when she thought about the secret she was holding back from him.

  “Mr Cheerful strikes again,” Aaron said. “You should do stand up, Dylan. You should have your own motivational net channel. You could call it Dour Dylan and the—”

  “Says the man sleeping with my daughter.”

  “Hey!” Jenn said. “That is not a place you can go.”

  “Said Jenn to Aaron, never,” Gee said, and all of them laughed. Even Selina was smirking when Jenn twisted in her seat to launch a punch at Gee. He held up both fists and her blow glanced off his left prosthetic hand, leaving her knuckles smarting. He grinned and raised his middle finger at her.

  “Taken your mind off our imminent fiery death, anyway,” Aaron said.

  “I don’t know why I stay with any of you,” Jenn said, settling back in her seat. She looked at her smiling father. “You’re devils. Every single one of you. I’m the only non-devil person here.”

  “Totally without sin,” Aaron agreed.

  Jenn crossed her arms and feigned anger. In front of her, Cove’s shoulders shook with laughter, and her fear began to ease. She could even watch the pilot going about his frantic business without expecting them to flip over and plummet into the forest at any moment.

  Jenn liked to analyse a problem, pick it apart, examine its components until she had found if not a solution, then at least its cause. But her fear of flying remained a mystery. It was not the heights involved, because she was a competent base jumper, a climber, and two years ago she’d ridden a mountain bike along a ridgeline track in Mexico which Aaron had admitted made his nerves jangle. She’d beaten his time by a good margin, too. It wasn’t the loss of control, because she frequently surrendered her wellbeing to other people, and not just members of their own tight team. She knew it was not the fact that this old aircraft probably wasn’t considered new for the bulk of the last century, let alone this one, because she’d made a hundred fear-laden journeys in a variety of jets, propeller planes, helicopters, and even a couple of hot air balloons.

  She didn’t know what it was. She could look from the window and watch cars winding along roads like ants, and welcomed the views that aircraft flight paths afforded of a wide range of vistas. Yet still when an aircraft took off with her on board, her heart fluttered twice as fast as usual, her palms sweated, and a constant queasiness swilled through her torso from throat to gut. If she closed her eyes it only made matters worse.

  Maybe you died in a plane crash in a previous life, Aaron had said once when they discussed her fears the day before a flight.

  Yeah, right. Fighter pilot.

  Crop sprayer, maybe.

  * * *

  “Oh man, that’s just fucking lovely,” Gee said.

  “What?” Jenn asked.

  “Left turn, Jenn,” he said, face pressed to the window. “Anyone for a swim?” A narrow valley had opened beside them, curving gently away from their flight path. The river snaking along the valley floor was pale yellow in places, and here and there it threw up a confusion of unnatural colours. The chemical slicks were a flow of broken rainbows. Foam speckled the banks in cotton-wool piles and swirled on gentle currents.

  “Must come from seventy miles upriver,” Lucy said from beside Cove. She was reading from her hand tablet, and Jenn marvelled how her friend ever survived without her tech. She was researching a PhD in human/artificial intelligence communication, the finer details of which went over Jenn’s head, and Cove sometimes joked that she was happiest in the company of a computer. Most expeditions were tech-free, and this more than any other was going to be stripped back to the bare essentials once they set out for real. Basic, streamlined, fast. “Chemical plant, officially been closed down for seventeen years.”

  “Officially,” Aaron said.

  “Money can open doors and close eyes,” Lucy said. “Fucking assholes.”

  “So close to Eden?” Cove asked. “I’m amazed it’s allowed.”

  “It’s not,” Lucy said. “Like I said, fucking asshole.” The singular was very obvious. She brushed her long dark hair over her ear and half-turned, raising one corner of her mouth. Jenn stifled a giggle. The two of them shared a birthday, though Lucy was two years older, and sometimes Cove joked that they were like sisters, whispering and keeping secrets. He didn’t always smile when he said it.

  “We’ll leave all that behind soon,” Aaron said, and Jenn thought he was talking just loud enough for her to hear. On their trip here they’d passed through plenty of places where signs of pollution were rife, and crossed a coastline where global warming and a rise in sea levels were starkly illustrated by several abandoned communities half-submerged beneath the waves. It was nothing they hadn’t seen many times before, and lived with for most of their lives. They’d once taken a flight across swathes of floating garbage in the Pacific so vast that some of the islands of waste had actually been given names and were home to communities of pirates, smugglers and terrorist cells. They had witnessed whole districts undermined and washed away in Old Shanghai, with millions of residents displaced to resettlement camps where hunger, crime and disease were rife. They had wandered between terrible mass graves and monuments to the million victims of the Great Alexandrian Flood, deaths that had been easily preventable if public information had been more forthcoming from governments that shied away from, or even denied, the shattering effects of climate change. Whilst scouting a trip into the Jaguar Zone with Aaron and her father—a journey they had yet to commit to—they had witnessed the devastating effects of many decades of illegal logging, burning and deforestation on the Amazon rainforest. The giant jungle had become many thousands of small, scattered woodlands.

  Such memories and experiences made the anticipation of this journey even more sweet.

  “Hope so.” She squeezed his hand again, more gently this time. “Love you,” she whispered, but he didn’t reply, and she wondered if he’d heard at all. She turned from the window and stared again at the back of Cove’s head, willing the flight to be over, craving the feel of grass and soil beneath her feet, the planet pressing back.

  She visualised the expedition to come. It filled her with excitement. She saw forests and hillsides, abandoned towns, valleys and rivers and lakes, a beautiful place where there were no people at all.

  Then she remembered her real reason for coming and wished that flying was all she had to fear.

  2

  “Of course, I appreciate all the good intentions behind the International Virgin Zone Accord, and I’ve gone down on record many times supporting the whole effort. But you can’t become a virgin. And however successful these places might be—and only time will show and tell us that—they’re still part of a world that’s already been well and truly fucked by humanity.”

  Anthony Keyse, Green World Alliance

  Jenn always loved the companionable tension between seven people who’d prepared together many times before. There was the clink and brush of kit being checked and packed, the smell of chafe cream and sun lotion, the sweet aroma of a fuel-heavy breakfast bubbling on the camp stove, the swill of water in bottles and rucksack bladders, and the nervous and excited chatter, quieter than usual, as if speaking too loud would disturb the comfortable balance they had all found.

  She loved the sense of danger, too. They all did. That was why they were here, away from their families, homes and real-world jobs. They all agreed that this might be the most dangerous thing any of them had ever done.

  Forest sounds muttered around them—the hushing of leaves in the morning breeze, bird song, secretive rustlings as small creatures went about their dawn tasks unseen. It was everything that made Jenn feel invigorated and alive, and a refreshing change to the rattle and roar of the aircraft.

  “Thirty minutes,” the woman said. She called herself Pocahontas, or Poke for short. Jenn had laughed when she’d i
ntroduced herself, but Poke’s stern glare had seen the smile away. She conveyed all manner of experience and knowledge in that look, and Jenn had to respect that. No matter what she chose to call herself.

  “You don’t look like a Pocahontas,” Cove said as he strapped a rolled bivvy bag to the top flap of his rucksack.

  “So what the fuck do I look like?” Poke asked. She was sitting on a fallen tree, smoking a foul-smelling cigarette and watching them prepare. Her dad said Poke was the best fixer he’d ever met.

  Jenn found her fascinating. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen anyone smoking. She was pleased to see that the old woman was smiling, and her dark wrinkled skin, lean physique and functional clothing indicated that she was very much at home out here. The gold on her fingers and hanging from her ears showed that she still liked some of the finer things. Her hair was snow-white, and braided tight to her scalp. She had scars. Jenn wondered at the stories each one might tell.

  “Maybe a Mildred,” Cove said.

  “Or a Whitney,” Jenn said.

  Poke laughed out loud, rocking back on the tree and coughing cigarette smoke at the sky. “I guess after Eden’s eaten you all up, I’ll change my name.” She stood and walked a wide circle around them, watching them work.

  The pilot had surprised them by turning around and taking off minutes after landing and disgorging them on the old road. Jenn thought he’d have at least checked the aircraft over, but he’d seemed eager to leave. Poke, emerging from the trees as soon as they appeared, said that if he was caught his plane would be impounded, and it was his only source of income. It wasn’t only people he smuggled.

  She’d led them into the forest and to a clearing where she’d prepared for their arrival. The stew cooking on the camp fire made Jenn’s mouth water, and she looked forward to how it would fend off the early morning chill. She had decided not to ask what meat it contained.

  “Twenty-five minutes,” Poke said.

  “It’s a six-hour hike to the boundary,” Cove said.

  “And?” Poke stopped close to Cove.

  “So why the countdown?”

  Poke looked him up and down, chuckled, then continued circling the group without replying. Cove glanced at Jenn and raised an eyebrow. He was the most beholden to gear among them. Branded labels adorned his clothing, rucksack and other kit, and he’d probably spent more money equipping himself for this expedition than the rest of them put together. She wanted to tell Poke how experienced Cove was, but it wasn’t her place to stand up for him. He wasn’t usually averse to singing his own praises.

  “Poke’s got us on a tight schedule,” Jenn’s father said. “Listen to her. She knows what she’s doing.”

  Jenn noticed that Poke had stopped pacing and was staring at her.

  “What?” Jenn asked.

  “Nothing.” Poke stomped out her dog-end and pulled another rolled cigarette from her shirt pocket. “Just wondering where the rest of your gear is.”

  “Lucy’s already mourning her precious gadgets,” Gee said, chuckling. Lucy glared at him from where she stood next to the small pile of kit they were leaving behind. Eden was a pristine place, the oldest and wildest of the world’s thirteen Virgin Zones, and Dylan had insisted that they treat it with the appropriate respect. This expedition was as stripped down as any they had ever undertaken—no hand tablets or net implants, no GPS, no satphones, no electronics or gadgets at all. It was them against Eden, and there was a purity about that which Jenn found beguiling.

  “You know,” Poke said. “Sciency stuff. Prods and measuring shit.”

  “We’ve got nothing like that,” Selina said.

  “Scales and beakers. Sample bags. All that crap.”

  “Got everything we need here.” Gee was the first to be ready, as ever. “Hiking, running, climbing stuff. Dried food. Water purifiers. Sun block and basic medical kit. Couple of small tents, knives, some waterproof kit in case the forecast is off, and spare clothing. But not much, because we just so love to smell.”

  “You’ll forage for food?”

  “Yeah, fruit and nuts, but we won’t kill anything to eat unless we have to. We run on a calorie deficit—when you’re burning twelve thousand per day you just can’t carry that much grub.” Gee nodded at Cove. “And some of us can afford to lose some timber.”

  Cove gave him the finger, and Gee giggled. A thin, small man, the Canadian was probably the most determined person Jenn knew. In the six years he’d been travelling with her and her father, she’d never witnessed him shy away from any challenge, or give up. She’d seen him free-climb a sheer cliff wall no one else would try, and face up to three racist pricks on a boat in France. They’d walked away and he’d limped, but in Jenn’s eyes he’d still won. Only two years younger than her father, still Gee felt something like a brother. Yet none of his determination was to do with him having only one hand. He’d never indicated it was a disability at all; in fact he seemed to like it. He hid two joints in a hollow finger.

  “What the fuck do you look like?” Poke asked, looking Gee up and down.

  “Your boyfriend,” Gee said. He took a step closer.

  “Put you on your ass,” Poke said. Gee shrugged and smiled. None of them doubted her. She lit the rollie and inhaled.

  “I’ve told you why we’re here,” Jenn’s father said.

  “I didn’t believe anyone was that stupid.” She looked at Jenn again, frowning.

  “We are,” he said.

  “So who are you racing?” Poke asked.

  “No one yet. We’re aiming to be the first. You know this place, you know why.”

  Poke just blinked at him through a haze of smoke.

  “Statistically and historically Eden is the most dangerous Zone in the world,” he said. “It’s swallowed up plenty of people over the years.”

  “Yeah.”

  Jenn’s father looked around as he continued, pleased that he had everyone’s attention. They’d all heard this before, but not in front of someone like Poke. Someone who could verify the things he said.

  “Other adventurer racers have tried. Some vanished. Others fled Eden and melted away, attempting to assimilate back into society. It’s as if the place stripped away their sense of adventure. Over the years, it’s attracted a reputation as one of the most amazing places on Earth, wholly inimical to man.”

  The breeze fell away, the trees growing still and the birds quiet, listening.

  “And to woman,” Gee quipped to break the silence.

  “You want to be the first group of assholes to run across Eden,” Poke said, shaking her head.

  “Run, climb, swim, walk, crawl if we have to,” Cove said. “It’s called an adventure race.”

  “Adventure,” Poke said, rolling the word like a strange taste.

  “Want to come with us?” Gee asked.

  “Want to live,” Poke said. For the first time she sounded serious.

  “We are living,” Lucy said. “This is being alive.”

  “You got a job, missy?”

  “I’m researching a PhD.”

  “Family?”

  “My parents live in London.”

  “Huh.” Poke circled them again, smoking, silent, and they all finished preparing their kit. She kept glancing at Jenn.

  “What?” Jenn asked again. She was becoming impatient. Poke might be the best fixer her father knew, she might be able to get them through security measures and into Eden, but she was a pain in the ass.

  “Just thinking what a pity it is,” Poke said.

  “What’s a pity?” Selina asked.

  “Seeing you all here like this, fit and healthy, and I’m taking you into a place that’ll chew you up and spit you out. Or maybe not even spit you out. You’re all fucking mad.”

  “So why take us?” Jenn asked.

  Poke nodded at her father. “Good pay.” With that she ground out her latest cigarette, glanced at her watch and took the lid off the stew. “And here’s some good news,” she said
over her shoulder. “Breakfast’s ready fifteen minutes early. That’s a buffer for any unforeseens.”

  3

  Got it on good authority that this year’s death toll for those attempting to enter the Husky Plains Zone isn’t as published. They tell us 7. I heard it’s over 150. Wasted by the Zeds. They’re murdering mercenaries. Don’t believe a word of this Zone Protection Force bullshit.

  @PottyBonkkers

  There were no unforeseens. Jenn’s dad had been right, Poke was the best fixer and guide any of them had ever met. She had their route scoped out, and she surprised Jenn with her supreme level of fitness. She might have been sixty-five, even seventy, but for the next six hours she led them on a tough hike through rising temperatures and dense forest towards the place where she said they had their best chance of entering Eden.

  They knew some of what to expect. Security around every Virgin Zone was tight, but the areas involved were so vast that there were loopholes for those who knew where and how to look. Poke knew very well. She wore an advanced GPS smartwatch with all manner of upgrades and a net implant behind her ear, and she had programmed it in detail for their route, time and pace. Each buzz was a signal for some form of action—march on apace; seek cover and wait for a drone to pass by overhead; jig left and pass through a culvert beneath a road; turn right and climb a small, steeply wooded slope—and Poke had each move pre-planned and memorised. She kept a strict watch on their time, slowing them down on several occasions, and speeding them up once after Aaron stopped to take a leak.

  The landscape was beautiful, with forested slopes and valleys opening here and there to flower-speckled clearings, and a network of streams and creeks flowing towards some distant river. But they were never far from signs of humankind’s influence. For a while they followed a road, old and fallen into disrepair now that the only vehicles to use it were occasional Zed security patrols. Weeds grew through tarmac, kerbstones were cracked and deformed from root action, and successive years of leaf fall had turned to soil in the gutters and cracks, sprouting an array of grasses, small shrubs and trees. Jenn looked forward to seeing how much more the road had changed once they were inside. Her excitement was a physical thing, a bee buzzing in her brain.