Genesis Code, (Book 1, Genesis Series)

Chapter 6

Eight-year-old Ben Watson waited for the next automated bus to arrive, watching with interest as the stranger walked towards him and sat beside him on the bench. He glanced at his unusual appearance, wondering where he was from. He ran through the list of countries he knew from his school lessons. There were the six cities on Exilon 5 and, other than the obvious ones on faraway Earth, he struggled to think of more. Geography class was so boring. He and his best friend, Peter, preferred to send digital notes to each other instead.

Syria and Nepal popped into his head. He remembered them from his classic Earth adventure series on the Light Box. In one episode, the criminals had escaped from prison and had ended up in both locations. But the criminals from his stories were meaner-looking and had facial scars. He wondered if the stranger was a spy. He couldn't see any visible scarring, so maybe he was a spy for the allies.

Ben could barely contain his excitement: a real life spy, right here in New London. A grin transformed his face, and his mood.

The man glanced in his direction. Ben met his eyes then looked away. His stories taught him never to look at a spy when they worked undercover.

This one wore musty old clothes that irritated his nose: a long brown coat with matching hat, like the ones the old detectives used to wear in the antique comic books he collected. Weren't spies supposed to wear black ninja outfits? Maybe not looking like a spy made him a better one.

The man looked elsewhere and Ben noticed his skin: patchy and pale in places. He sat on his hands to control the butterflies in his stomach. The movement attracted the man's attention. Ben sucked in a breath and kept his eyes forward. The stranger could be anyone, working for the government, or worse, sent by his mum. He'd left the house that morning without telling her. Out of habit he checked over his shoulder.

He'd heard her complain to friends he was just like his father: always somewhere else, never where she wanted him to be. She called his actions "getting into trouble". He preferred to call it "going on an adventure". Ben wanted to become an actor to live the life of his adventure-story heroes: dodging bullets, getting into trouble, travelling to places like Syria and Nepal. The closest he came to that was his Saturday trips around New London, while his mother slept in late. Anywhere was better than home, waiting for her to wake up after another late-night VR session on the Light Box. And the minute she did, she'd get right back on the device. Ben hadn't eaten a proper meal since his dad skipped out on them both three years ago.

Ben slipped his small backpack off his shoulders and perched it on his lap. He pulled open the flap and peered inside. The night before, he'd packed enough supplies to cover his entire trip. He pulled out his DPad and checked where he was. His Light Box avatar had loaded it with a map covering a five-mile radius of the area; he didn't expect to get further than that. While his mother slept, he and his avatar had planned his next trips. He had no worries about getting caught. Ben had bypassed the child controls and taught his avatar to lie. But lately, she'd stopped asking, which suited him just fine. She'd said to a friend once that a lack of male presence in the house had made her only son "wilful and difficult to manage'. Ben hadn't understood exactly what that meant, but there were certain things he had to do without her. She was a girl, and girls didn't always understand.

This time he remembered to pack a compass. Last week had been a bust. He'd walked around for hours, almost forgot what bus to take. Peter had loaned him the compass for two weeks in exchange for some of his antique comics. It had been a good trade. Ben had read those stories a hundred times. The compass went well with his real life adventure stories. Peter had told him to check how the compass pointed to his house so if he got lost, he could find his way back. He wondered whether Peter might consider a permanent trade on the compass for a few more comic books. Or, he could simply tell him he'd lost it. He would decide later.