Uploaded: Uploaded, #1

By James W. Hughes

In the near future, the secrets of immortality have been unlocked.

Those lucky enough to live forever reside behind the walls of the Enclave, like seventeen-year-old Xander, who on his next birthday is to be Uploaded into a new, indestructible body, never to age or die.

Then there are those that live in the Outside, shrouded in the miserable shadow of the walled city. For Rachel, fighting to survive is a way of life, but trouble is brewing.

When the two paths cross, the secrets of Uploading begin to unravel. Not everyone can live forever, and as each day passes, the price of immortality grows.

The clock ticks down, and Rachel and Xander are left with no choice but to fight the terrifying Enclave government, who will stop at nothing to preserve their way of life.

EVOLVED PUBLISHING PRESENTS the first book of the "Uploaded" series of dystopian sci-fi adventures.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Evolved Publishing LLC
• Release date: Dec 17, 2016
• ISBN: 9781622535323

James W. Hughes

I came across the idea for my first novel almost by accident. I was at home on summer break from school–I use the word “summer” lightly, as I’m from the north of England–when a news article caught my eye. It was titled “The First Person to Live to 1000 has Already Been Born.” A year (and several drafts) later I had a manuscript for my first novel: Uploaded. These days I live in Lancaster, a place equally as cold and wet, with seven of my friends. When I’m not writing (or procrastinating), I alternate my time between finishing off my degree in marketing, cooking, travelling, and running.

Book preview

Prologue

To Sven’s people, she was something of myth, an alchemist with the power to live forever. He’d only heard stories of her until last week, when she came to his cell. In his whole life he’d never seen a woman so hauntingly beautiful. The curves of her body, her golden eyes, her platinum hair—it was enough to stop his beating heart. He had sold her his soul in return for his family’s freedom. All he had to do was deliver the parcel.

It was six hours past curfew, which meant that any non-Enclaver on the streets of the walled city would be shot on sight—no trials were reserved for his kind. Nevertheless, he made his way down Main Street holding the neatly wrapped package tightly to his chest, knowing that soon they would be safe. She had promised him that much.

Sven was a Wildlander, a savage, a man from beyond the known world, cursed with the scars of an ancient chemical war. His family had been taken captive to the Enclave some two weeks ago but were about to be granted their freedom.

An eerie silence settled over the Enclave, but still he took the careful path, under the shadows of the willow trees that lined the streets connecting the outer levels with the centre of town. The glittering pavements and titanic structures stood in stark contrast to the lands in the shadow of the walled city, and even more so to the land Sven called home. Like a cylindrical forest made of glass and marble, the city grew upwards, its buildings connected by strands of roads and bridges that spiralled their way towards the ceiling like the inside of a beehive.

Wildlander scum, he whispered under his breath, repeating what the guard had called him, as the bruise on his ribs brushed against the parcel. His people saw little need for pain and fear, but as the clock on the town hall clicked down, he felt pressed, even though he couldn’t read it.

His mind skipped back to what the woman had said as she brushed her soft hand lightly across his unshaven face, comforting his pounding head. He’d been full of anger and desperation, and had no choice but to trust her.

I need you to do this for me, she’d said.

Only if you save them.

I never break a promise.

But why? He’d tried to control his fear. Why must I do this?

Because to heal this nation, first we must do terrible things. Necessary things.

Sven clung to the shadows as a city guard passed slowly—agonisingly—before stopping just ahead. He held his breath as the guard checked his reflection in a shop window, adjusted his rifle, and then marched on into the dark streets. He was safe to carry on.

Up ahead a security camera beeped quietly, idly watching Sven as he rounded the corner next to the library. Just as she had said, there appeared a cluster of guards beside the Upload Hub, a simple tower constructed from black marble. He was to complete his journey just outside the building, but not in it.

She had stressed that profusely; if he went into the building she would kill his family.

So he repeated everything she had told him to do. It flowed through his mind and onto his lips as he stepped between the streetlights, practicing the unfamiliar words.

She’d told him to rehearse it, that the deal was only true if he spoke those words.

He thought back to his elder’s warnings and tried to slow his breathing. The pain he felt for those he had to leave behind made him feel weak, but he had brought his family south. They’d been captured by the Enclavers because of him.

He shuddered at the memory and then forced himself to press on. He would be there soon, and would join with those that had gone before him. Thinking of that turned the fear into excitement and....

His foot wrapped around a root, and Sven fell, resisting the urge to call out as he hit the ground. The parcel spun from his hands, but he still clutched the wire that stretched from it, the trigger grasped firmly in his palm.

All the guards burst into life and scurried towards him in their customary green and black uniforms. In an instant a floodlight put Sven at centre stage, and a dozen red lasers danced over his body.

Drop it! one of the guards yelled, aiming a gun at him.

But I’m not at the correct place yet. I’m not close enough to the Hub.

An uncomfortable, warm sensation spread across his pants, accompanied by the smell of urine. His hand trembled on the trigger as he struggled to exhale. He couldn’t do it.

A red pointer caught his eye, temporarily blinding him. He had only seconds left. He thought of his wife and child, and of what the Enclave would do to them if they made him speak.

Drop it!

Now or never.

He turned to the cameras mounted on a nearby building and screamed, Long live the Underground!

He pulled the trigger.

***

A flash of lightning lit up the city, and the white walls reverberated with the boiling heat of the bonfire that raged from the bomb. Glass and debris rained down from neighbouring office blocks, the square reduced to a smouldering crater.

All too late, the warning sirens blared into action as the ears of the immortal city rang from the blast.

Chapter 1 – Xander

The modifications for your new body will have to be very... extensive, Doctor Straker said through a set of gleaming, shark-like teeth.

Xander squirmed as he sat opposite a large screen displaying every part of his body in embarrassingly clear sight. The doctor had half of the screen focused on Xander’s face.

"Obviously, we will keep a few distinct features to maintain some resemblance, but the red hair will have to go."

Xander absently ran his hand through his shaggy ginger mop, feeling the doctor scrutinising his every expression. Erm....

Pick anything. It all needs improving.

How about....

Straker raised his eyebrows.

How about the eyes?

Terrible. We can keep the colour, as the blue is well suited, but that’s about it. He used his fingers to zoom in, until Xander’s eyes engulfed the entire screen. The shape is too wide.

Well, at least he likes the colour, Xander thought.

I’m not sure.... He looked at the rotating image of his naked body and felt the heat rush to his face.

Doctor Reyansh Straker rolled his eyes and stood up—at seven foot, he embraced the full power of his height. Young man, I have been your grandfather’s physician for the last century, and your father’s for the best half of it. He has never been a time waster and, if you are ever going to follow in his footsteps, I suggest you get a move on.

Xander looked up at the doctor’s lofty frame, draped in a white lab coat, and imagined what it would be like looking out of Straker’s eyes. Everything felt so unreal, and he wanted to leave. He couldn’t understand why his friend Zeke had been so excited for the ritual. Xander had tried to ignore the deadline of his eighteenth birthday for as long as possible; now, he was finally out of time.

I’ve got an eternity, Alexander, Straker grumbled. "You, on the other hand, have not... yet."

It was true. A new body fitting served as a reminder that, in two weeks, Xander would no longer be a scrawny, ginger, almost-eighteen-year-old that nobody, especially his father, deemed acceptable for life as an Enclaver.

But what was life as an Enclaver? Artificial? Trapped? Was he really destined to live forever, penned in by some sort of cushy Enclaver job—a politician, an architect, an artist? He knew the consequences and had run through them a million times while lying awake at night.

In his city, the last true city on Earth, custom dictated that every Enclaver, on their eighteenth birthday, be uploaded into a new body—one designed and engineered to never age, never wither with disease, and most importantly, never die. The body that sat in front of the physician on that November morning, the one Xander now occupied, would be hibernated in the Upload Hub, to sleep for eternity, its brain wired to a billion transmitters and machines, living through its new and improved host.

Alexander? Straker jolted him out of his thoughts. If you don’t make a decision, I will.

How about brown hair?

Perfect. Straker grinned as he selected a colour that looked more blonde than brown. And your jaw line?

Erm... like I have it now?

For heaven’s sake!

Xander was beginning to feel more insecure by the second.

Your father mentioned you were friends with Councilman Kane’s boy. He was not nearly this indecisive.

The mention of his friend caught Xander’s attention. Zeke had been uploaded the previous week. You did Zeke?

"I did," Straker said, rolling his eyes.

Where is he now?

You know I can’t divulge patient information, Mr. Lazarus.

Xander wondered how his friend looked in his new body.

Are you even paying attention?

Xander snapped out of his thoughts again, and tried to smile. Sorry.

Doctor Straker lingered on a thought for a moment, pursing his lips. You have one more chance. This is the body you are going to be living in for eternity, and I will not be responsible for messing up such an important upload. Your father trusts me, and I certainly will not let down the president of the Enclave after I have served your family for this long. He thumped his hand on the desk, as if trying to drum the principle into him. Make. This. Session. Count.

Sorry.

His repeated apology went ignored as Doctor Straker had already dragged up a list of options for approval. I was thinking a chiselled jaw line, pectorals not too muscular, but enough to show definition.

He actually quite liked his jaw line. It wasn’t exactly chiselled, but he’d never looked at it as if it needed improving.

How tall are you?

Around one metre eighty centimetres, I think.

Straker chuckled. Let’s scale it up to something more respectable. How does two metres sound. No. Two ten.

The figure before Xander grew and its shoulders broadened. He was easily the tallest of all the other young Enclavers he knew, and the thought of adding another thirty centimetres in order to fit in with the adult Enclavers seemed ridiculous.

When Doctor Straker finally took his file off the screen, the rotating figure was virtually unrecognisable to Xander. Nevertheless, the doctor reassured him it had the best features of every upload he had ever done, and he had done many. Yet Xander remained uncomfortable, the strange figure rotating on the screen only heightening his doubts about going through with the entire process.

Although... he didn’t really have a choice.

Straker stood and gestured for his secretary to escort Xander to the exit.

A thin woman from outside of the Enclave, she visibly shook every time the doctor spoke.

As they walked down the long corridor leading back to the streets, Xander looked over his shoulder and drew a sharp intake of breath. Suspended in several glass tubes were the embryotic forms of three Enclaver host bodies, blank and ready for uploading.

He’d strayed from the secretary’s lead, and she squeaked, hurrying to keep up with him. Mr. Lazarus, where are you going?

I just wanted to take a look at the new bodies.

Please, Doctor Straker will be very angry if he finds you still in the Upload Hub.

He ignored her for a moment, transfixed by the suspended figures that had been built from scratch with billions of carefully selected cells. The three of them represented a mix of colours and creeds, yet they were unmistakeably Enclavers.

Soon, one of them will be me.

The thought made something twist deep within his gut, but his curiosity persisted, propelling him to reach forward and place his palm against the warm glass tank.

Slowly, a white, obtuse hand reached forward and lightly touched the glass before his hand, and drew away.

Xander immediately withdrew, his mind reeling as the figure turned slowly away from him, its empty face staring vacantly over his shoulder. He couldn’t stop staring in horror at the body that could one day be his.

Mr. Lazarus, please, the secretary murmured, glancing worriedly back to Straker’s office.

Sorry. He followed her through another set of doors, which she unlocked with a yellow key card, and they entered the hospital, the last section before street level.

Thank you, Mr. Lazarus. She opened the door with a yellow key card, deliberately avoiding making eye contact, although Xander paid little attention to her.

Every door he’d walked past in the hospital had either been closed or just slightly ajar, but the one labelled Recovery, near the exit, stood fully open. Inside the sparsely populated ward, lying asleep under a long fluorescent tube at the back of the room, was someone Xander had never seen before, but at the same time recognised as if he were an old friend.

He was an old friend.

Zeke!

His friend didn’t move, apparently still sleeping.

Zeke! he called again, trying to wake him. For a moment the thought of the host body vanished.

The secretary gasped and rushed to close the door to Zeke’s room, dropping the folder she carried. Papers scattered across the bleached white floor, and the Outsider looked up, her eyes wide with terror.

Xander paused, not knowing the right protocol for the situation. Finally, he bent down and said, Here, let me help you.

He tried his best to sort the papers into a neat pile as the thin woman stared silently at the ground, as if hoping for the ordeal to be over. When she glanced away, Xander pocketed her yellow key card.

Thank you, Mr. Lazarus. When she stood up, her entire body trembled.

Xander left the hospital wing, located on the bottom floor of the Upload Hub, and started his short walk back to the Younger House, where the under-eighteens lived. The building he called home sat sandwiched between the servants’, in the dark areas next to the inner walls, and their parents’, at the Enclave’s bright centre.

He took the quicker route home, which led him through the city centre. Above him the glass and chrome buildings towered towards the ceiling, each building linked by levels of streets that extended in a web of tiers all the way to the very walls of the city, rippling both upwards and out from the Upload Hub. The soft hum of air purifiers reminded him that he was surrounded on all sides by the Enclave’s chrysalis, built specifically to keep non-Enclavers out, but also to maintain purity—to seclude them from what was referred to as the ruined earth. At school, he’d learned of the ancestors’ war, how chemical and nuclear weapons had destroyed their civilisation, their effects still lingering to this day.

Yet they were not the worst things that lay outside the castle walls. Not by a long shot.

Under the Enclave’s concrete roof, the streets were silent. They had become even quieter since the latest terrorist attack.

For the past year, a terrifying Outsider terrorist cell named the Underground had reaped havoc behind the city walls. They wanted to destroy the Enclave. The news was awash with broadcasts of uncovered plots and restlessness in some of the unrulier towns in the Outside.

The very thought that the impregnable walls of his city could be breached terrified Xander. Really, how safe were they if a single hit to the Upload Hub could wipe out the majority of the population? When he concentrated hard on the web of interlocking levels of the Enclave, he thought it was almost fragile.

He skirted the blast crater in the middle of the town square, realising how close they had recently come to destruction. The hole gaped openly to the artificial sky, left like that for days as if to serve as a reminder. They’d erected empty scaffolding and yellow barriers all around it, stopping any access to the site. Still, he could see in the background, spray painted on the side of the Hub, the Underground’s anti-Enclave symbol—a red circle, representing the Enclave, with a blue line painted through it. The mere sight of it sent a shiver down his spine.

You get it sorted? a voice said, catching him off guard.

Isaac! You frightened the shit out of me.

Isaac laughed and hopped down from the wall behind Xander, a cloud of dust pluming from his blue overalls. Isaac was slightly shorter than Xander, although he made up for it with a broader frame. His curly brown hair, though always tussled just enough to look messy, still managed to perfectly frame his piercing green eyes.

How long have you been following me?

He grinned. Until I was sure we were alone.

Xander looked around.

Don’t worry, I’ve checked.

Xander looked at his best friend and wondered how he could be so calm, although the pressures that rested on his shoulders were not as great. Isaac would never be uploaded. He was a servant, born outside the Enclave walls. An Outsider. For the pair of them, even speaking was highly forbidden.

Shouldn’t you be working? Xander whispered.

Stop whispering.

Xander shrugged. Fine.

No need to be so edgy. Bad day at the office?

You have no idea. Xander tried not to smile. Anyway, isn’t there something that needs fixing in the museum?

I finished early. Feast of Plenty tomorrow.

Never mind the Feast! Xander couldn’t contain his excitement any longer. Guess who I saw today?

Ethel Drummige from the fourth floor? I’m sure she has a thing for you. Isaac winked.

Ew, no! Xander laughed. Much better than that.

I like where this is heading!

Xander grinned as he pulled the secretary’s yellow key card from his back pocket. Looks like Zeke will be getting two surprise visitors tomorrow.

Chapter 2 – Rachel

Oh my god, Hugo! What have you done?

Hugo stood in front of Rachel, his hand outstretched, his eyes far too wide, blood pouring from an angry gash across his palm.

Sorry, he said, his eyes tearful.

Rachel grabbed her little brother’s hand, and rinsed away the blood under the clear stream of water that trickled from the spigot fixed to the wall beside their tiny house. The water dribbled, and then began to pool around their feet.

It hadn’t been a good day. They were well into the last harvest of the year, and Rachel had picked up some extra shifts in the fields while Hugo was at school. She had enough on her plate, worrying about where the next meal would come from, without this. Her reflection in the water showed that she had become ever thinner, and dark circles had begun to creep under her eyes.

Hugo’s blood spattered into the puddle, swirling with the water to make a pink foam. The cut was deep.

It hurts!

She scoffed at him. What were you doing? This is going to need bandages, and we’re down to our last—

A tiny piece of black metal plopped into the muddy pool.

Rachel paused abruptly as her mind clunked slowly into gear. Hugo... where did you cut yourself?

Silence.

She gazed at him with stern warning.

Down the lane. He rubbed his eye with his free hand. On my way home from school.

Show me.

Ouch!

Rachel realised she was still gripping his wrist tightly. She let go and followed him along the lane behind their house, in the direction of the school. The streets of Stettle were lined with prefabricated wooden structures, scuttled randomly around a massive town hall that dominated the horizon, a symbol of Enclave power. The town’s warden, Abner Firth, had imposed a strict curfew, and the streets were already emptying in anticipation of sundown.

As they walked, the slums gave way to thinning woodland.

Me and Tommy went off from the lane, Hugo said, an unmistakable tremor in his voice, as if he could sense his sister’s panic. Mr. Rector was up ahead, and we wanted to go on an adventure.

Another throb of panic pulsed through her. I told you never to stray from the track. She quivered, praying that her brother didn’t turn left before the fork in the road.

But it was just one time!

Hugo, you’re seven. You should know to do as you’re told. Her brother hung his head, and Rachel almost felt bad for scolding him.

We went down there. Hugo pointed, the blood gushing freely from his hand.

Rachel took her bandana, her favourite and last one, and wrapped it tightly over the wound. Her black hair fell into her face as she bent to Hugo’s level and tied the knot twice.

You know that this place is forbidden, she said.

The trees grew darker as they turned off into the thicket. She knew exactly where they were going, but still hoped for some sort of miracle, a turn off, a path she didn’t know about.

I’m sorry. He was crying now, holding his wounded hand under his armpit.

The hole in the wire mesh fence wouldn’t normally have been visible, but Hugo had obviously pushed the branches aside, revealing the opening.

She didn’t need to go any farther, for she knew what waited on the other side. Just above the dead, gnarled trees, a huge rusted wing from an ancient flying machine pointed to the sky.

Did you touch the metal? She crouched to Hugo’s eye level.

He didn’t speak, or even look at her.

He didn’t need to; Rachel knew the answer. She pressed her lips tightly together, weighing up the possibilities in her mind. You know how dangerous this place is. You know it’s forbidden, not just by the Enclave, but by us Outsiders too.

I want to go home. Hugo started to cry again.

Rachel sighed and took one last peek behind the bandanna. If her little brother had been exposed to the radiation, he would likely not survive without Enclave medicine. His skin was already beginning to turn grey around the wound.

She swallowed and tried to remain calm. The last thing she wanted to do was worry Hugo. Come on, mister. Let’s go home.

Chapter 3 – Xander

Xander and Isaac sat at the edge of the Enclave roof, an expanse of white concrete marked only by vents and trapdoors, and together they watched the sunset. Though they could not see the sun itself, the thick canopy of clouds melted at the horizon into a myriad of colours.

You see that? Isaac said.

It’s beautiful....

Isaac nodded down toward the ground below. Guards are changing.

So?

If we wanted to make a run for it, now would be the time. Isaac winked.

You first. Xander looked out on a landscape that should have been forest, but the trees had been felled in a rough circle around the monstrous pale structure of the Enclave. The rainy weather of the area had reduced the vast patch of now bare earth to a constantly muddy bog. At the edge of the mire sat a guard post for checking trains. Only one road and one set of train tracks lead into the city, crossing a drawbridge over a moat before they could get to the gates, and watchtowers sprung up every so often along the edge of the forest to look out for intruders. Or escapees.

It seemed like a short gap, but even at a run the odds of making it were slim. Xander felt anxious just thinking about it. Don’t you think people would have tried before?

They have done—not often, trust me—but servants have made their way back.

Xander looked sceptically at Isaac.

No, seriously! They have. We had a guy in my village, Old Toby, my dad’s friend. He worked in the Enclave for thirty years, but got out.

You know that thing people do when they’re lying? Where they add in too many details....

He was real! Isaac protested.

And they didn’t come after him?

He didn’t take anything.

Well, yeah, but he could still have had valuable info.

"He did ramble a lot. But I don’t think he knew anything. Anyway, Old Toby isn’t important."

I don’t think he’s a lot of things. Xander laughed.

Isaac grinned and punched his arm. You’re always taking the piss.

Careful! That’s a ten story drop!

Into water.

You’d still die!

Isaac chuckled and then paused. He was real.

Xander looked at Isaac, who appeared silhouetted by the evening light, a moment longer. Whatever you say.

Besides, what would you know about it? Isaac smirked. You’ve never even left the Enclave.

I have!

Isaac furrowed his brow. When?

I was ten. My mum took me to the edge of the Outside.

The Wildland?

The part where the sea is.

You’ve seen the ocean? Why haven’t you ever told me?

It wasn’t really an ocean. Xander had seen pictures of the ocean. He’d thought it a huge, terrifying monster, just one storm away from swallowing the entire world. It was more like a big lake.

I can’t imagine it.

It was cold, and still like glass. You could see another land on the other side.

Another land? Who lives there?

I don’t know. Nobody, probably. It seemed pretty peaceful.

Isaac looked back towards the mire. Outside’s a scary place, ruined by the Ancestors War. Nowhere is safe.

Xander considered the sprawling forest that lay just before the horizon and doubted that such a beautiful thing could be terrifying. Surely you can’t remember it that well.

It’s not somewhere that you forget easily. The air is thick with smog, especially near the towns, and you’re always hungry because the only land suitable for growing food grows the Enclave’s crops, and Enclavers aren’t really generous with what they share.

A moment passed before Isaac continued, But that’s not the worst of it. Sometimes the rain can burn you. You can’t even bathe in some of the rivers without getting sick. People dig up crazy old technology all the time that explodes or does something else equally dreadful. The ancestors were bad people, Xander. They ruined this place.

But people still live.

Isaac smiled. Well, more or less.

What about the Wildlanders?

What about them?

They have it even worse. Xander had never seen a Wildlander in the flesh, just photographs. They were a terrifying bunch: tribespeople completely bald from the chemical wasteland, their skin scabbed and full of mutations.

I think their genetics evolved just enough to allow them to survive out there.

But at what cost?

At least they’re free.

But is it worth it? Xander couldn’t shake the image: festering skin, necklaces made from ancient CDs and wires, spears sharpened from blast-glass. Even the horses they rode looked menacing, their ribs protruding from bleached skin.

Yeah, they creep me out too.

Not as much as the Underground.

Isaac turned his gaze away. Yeah,