Genesis Code, (Book 1, Genesis Series)

Chapter 1

Year 2163, Exilon 5

Thirty years later

Bill Taggart sat alone in Cantaloupe, a restaurant in the heart of New London, at a table by the window. Ignoring his exhaustion, he started on his meal of steak and chips. Cantaloupe was his favourite restaurant and the best New London had to offer. Not one of the more affordable establishments on Exilon 5, which used real—not replicated—ingredients to make its old-fashioned fare, but the World Government was paying so he didn't care. Bill worked as an investigator for the biggest powerhouse back on Earth, an organisation comprised of twelve global leaders. It had been set up after the collapse of the United Nations in 2078.

He brought his fourth mug of coffee to his lips. Too many cups, some would say, but a necessity for him. His hands shook as he took a hit and set the mug down on the table. The caffeine only made his tremors worse but it wasn't solely to blame for his nerves.

Bill had an ulterior motive for choosing Cantaloupe that day. The children called them 'Shadow People', but he knew them by another name: Indigenes. The race emitted a static charge and the prickle on Bill's skin informed him that one had been in this very restaurant. Others might mistake the static for an itch. But as Investigator for the World Government's International Task Force division, Bill had better information on the alien race occupying their new home. While his primary mission was to monitor the Indigenes, he had waited two years for this chance to face one of them down. His wife, Isla, had disappeared on Exilon 5, and he was certain this scumbag race knew all about it.

He took another hit of coffee. The caffeine jolted his heart into more feverish action, but it didn't feel as jumpy as before. His hands shook like a city junkie's, but junkies weren't the worst thing to fear on Exilon 5. An old enemy—Larry Hunt—sprung to mind and his fingers grazed the spot on his shoulder where one of his henchmen had knifed him. Yes, the new cities required better policing, but something else made it dangerous to live on Exilon 5.

The residents were being fed half-truths about their new home.

His wife, the love of his life, was gone. Taken from him by a feral race that occupied the planet long before humans had arrived.

A pain gripped him as he thought about Isla's rosy cheeks, waist-long brown hair and dimpled smile. She was a strong woman and a less cynical version of him. She was why he got out of bed and why he couldn't face life some mornings. Without her, he would remain a shadow of his former self. He refused to give up looking for her, even after two years and still no contact from her.

Isla, I promise you. I won't give up.

Bill's communication device shrilled. He flinched and stuck the earpiece in his ear. 'Yeah?'

'Bill? Daphne calling. Have I caught you at a bad time?'

He straightened up when he heard the voice of the CEO of the Earth Security Centre.

'No, just doing some recon.' He pushed his plate away.

He heard what sounded like a fingernail tapping on wood—one of Daphne Gilchrist's habits. While he didn't trust the woman, he found her easier to deal with than Charles Deighton.

'Bill, I'm worried.'

Fuck. 'About what?'

'About how you're handling your first solo investigation.'

'I'm fine.'

Better than fine. Fucking fantastic, actually.

'I don't mean to intrude so late in the day but I need to make sure you're on form. We're just concerned for you.'