Synthetica (12 page)

Five

The sun was shining and giant fluffy white clouds strolled lazily
across the deep blue sky.

Anais took off her old leather jacket and tied it around her waist,
wishing she'd listened to the weather report more closely. Her white
vest top and black shorts were starting to stick to her
uncomfortably. She brushed her hair back off her face, but it simply
sprang back, slightly damp with sweat.

“
Do
you want one?” Dalla nodded towards an ice cream parlour, it's
window a colourful display of low fat, non-dairy ice cream. Dalla
seemed to flagging in the heat too. She was wearing a simple cotton
dress, but she kept fanning her face with her hand in an attempt to
get some air.

Anais shook her head, her damp curls sticking to her face.

“
No,
I was thinking we could get a drink instead,” she said and Dalla
nodded.

Dalla's bubbly enthusiasm seemed to waning as the heat of the day
grew more intense. All Anais could think about now was an ice cold
drink, and how good it would feel sliding down her parched throat.
It wasn't helping that her RetCom kept reminding her every few
minutes that she was low on electrolytes. The HV had announced a few
days ago that it was the hottest autumn on record, and Anais wasn't
going to dispute that fact. Normally by this time in the year, a
light frost might seen on the ground in the early mornings. It was
still cold most mornings and evenings, but the heat during the day
was just as strong, if not stronger, than it was in summer.

They walked slowly past the stalls and shops, lacking the energy to
hurry. Traders called out their wares from the stripy stalls lining
the street; shoppers wandered up and down, getting caught up in
haggling battles with the stall holders. Shops had their doors
thrown wide open, and tourists and locals alike were huddling just
inside the entrances, taking advantage of the air-conditioning
sending out icy blasts from inside.

They were approaching the end of the market street, and the crowds
were beginning to thin slightly, when Anais spotted a brightly
coloured juice bar machine on the right. She pointed it out to Dalla
and they both hurried over. Anais selected her drink, pleased to see
that today her choice wasn't being impeded by the biometrics on her
ID chip. They made their way to an empty bench on the other side of
the street and sat down gratefully. Anais took a long gulp of her
drink, feeling instantly better as the juice quenched her thirst.
Her RetCom stopped flashing warnings at her as the nutrients in the
drink made their way into her bloodstream. Dalla was rather slower,
sipping her smoothie leisurely as she watched people hurrying by all
around them.

Anais finished her juice in a couple of swallows. She stood up to
put her empty cup in the recycle bin a few paces away. She was
concentrating so hard on getting out the last few drops from the
bottom of her cup, that she didn't notice the man until it was too
late.

They bumped into each other with some force; there was a small
crash as the box he'd been carrying flew to the floor. The lid
popped open and a cascade of tiny silver objects burst out and
scattered all over the pavement. Anais staggered backwards, her cup
dropping to the ground.

“
I'm
so sorry,” she apologised, immediately bending down to pick up the
glinting objects. She picked a few up, recognising them as
picochips. Puzzled, she stood back up straight.

“
Here
you go, I'm really sorry, I just wasn't -” she stopped abruptly as
she held out her hand containing the tiny chips, and she looked up
into his face. The man had picked up his box, but he hadn't said a
word to her in apology or acknowledgement. Instead, he was staring
at her with something remarkably like fury.

The lower half of his face was covered with what looked like an old
pollen mask, designed to make it easier to breathe during the summer
months when the air was hazy with dust. His dull black hair hung
down to his shoulders, and his silver eyes were so pale, they were
almost transparent. He was wearing a battered black jacket, upon
which some kind of tatty logo was sewn on in red. There was a black
glove on his right hand, which Anais couldn't help thinking was odd
in this kind of heat.

But it was his expression that had made her stop talking. There
wasn't an ounce of friendliness or apology in that face. Instead, he
was looking at her as though he absolutely despised her. A cold
chill ran down Anais' spine. She swallowed nervously.

“
Um,
I'm really sorry,” she managed to whisper. He snatched the
picochips she was holding out to him, and with one last contemptuous
look, he strode off without a word.

The entire incident hadn't even lasted minute, but Anais watched
him go feeling slightly shaken. She had never seen the man before in
her life. There was no reason for him to look at her with such
hatred. It had only been an accident, after all.

“
What
was that about?” Dalla appeared at her side, stooping to pick up
Anais' forgotten cup and throwing it in the recycling bin along with
her own.

“
No
idea,” Anais replied.

“
He's
going to boil in this heat,” Dalla said, squinting after him. “You
sure you're ok, hon?”

“
Yeah,
fine,” Anais said, turning away from the strange man. Her eyes
alighted on a shop opposite, and all thoughts of the stranger flew
out of her mind. “Hey, look.”

Dalla's eyes lit up as she saw what Anais was pointing at.

Next to the juice machine was a small, shabby looking shop with the
words 'Wright's Electric Supplies Bought & Sold' written above
it in lit up letters. Several of the 'E's were flickering and the
'B' had gone out altogether.

“
That
must be it!” Dalla exclaimed excitedly, her earlier enthusiasm
restored. She grabbed Anais' arm and practically dragged her across
the street.

They stood for a moment outside, looking up at the shop sign. Now
that they were closer, it was even more obvious how out of place it
was – the rest of the shop fronts around it were clean and bright,
music pumping out over speakers and the air-con going full throttle
to entice people in; but this shop was dark and quiet, it's windows
grimy with dust. It was a wonder the city council hadn't issued an
order for the owner to clean it. It was mandatory to keep shop
fronts and streets clean and tidy, or risk paying a hefty fine.

“
After
you!” Dalla said brightly, pushing Anais forward.

Anais harrumphed. She slowly pushed the door open, and stepped into
the darkness beyond.

*

The interior of the shop was just as gloomy as it appeared from the
outside. Anais had to squint to see while her eyes adjusted to the
lack of light. The walls were lined with stacks of shelves which
towered above them to the ceiling. Rusty bits of hardware for
computers and other electronic goods, some of them centuries old,
were piled high and stuffed unceremoniously onto the shelves. Balls
of wire, switchboards, microchips and picochips lay in a jumble on
top of the tables that were positioned all over the floor, creating
a maze around the shop.

Anais picked her way through the mess, her eyes flicking around as
she was drawn to the next thing that caught her eye. There was an
old glass tablet that had been in fashion when Anais had been very
small, a microwave, a printer encrusted in dried up ink, RetCom
casings, an old HV set. Anais drew in a sharp breath as she saw a
long, flat screen in the corner. She gingerly made her way over to
it, being careful not to disturb the piles of circuit boards that
teetered perilously on the table to her left. She wiped away the
dust on the surface of the screen, staring at it in wonder. It was
old, very old – it was what people in the 21st Century called
'TV'; an earlier ancestor of HV, only the pictures were confined to
inside the screen and couldn't jump out at you. She gently traced a
finger over the edge of the TV, admiring it's sleek, if somewhat
obsolete, beauty.

“
What
the hell is this?”

Dalla's hushed voice cut through the muffled stillness. Anais turned
to see her picking up a small object from a shelf. Anais stood up
and hurried over to her as best as she could, weaving in between
tables covered in old computer casings. She stared down at the grey
object in Dalla's palm. It was a slimline piece of metal, with a
large screen which had a single button below it.

“
What
d'you reckon this is?” Dalla asked in a whisper. Anais stared at
it, excitement coursing through her.

“
It's
a mobile phone,” she said in wonder, carefully picking it up from
Dalla's palm and holding it up. “My dad told me about these – it
was a way for people to communicate back in the 2000s.”

Dalla's eyes widened as Anais handed her the phone back. She pressed
the button experimentally, but the screen stayed blank. Dalla's
shouldered slumped in disappointment.

“
I
think you might have to charge it up,” Anais said. Dalla turned
the phone over and Anais spotted the tiny slot at the bottom. “Look,
that's probably where you're supposed to put the charger.”

She pointed to it and Dalla peered at it uncertainly.

“
How
odd. What a waste of time if you have to charge everything up before
you use it. I -”

“
Can
I help you?”

The voice made them both jump. The phone slipped out of Dalla's
hand, and Anais caused a load of microchips to cascade off the shelf
and land with a loud clatter on the floor as she accidentally
knocked them off their perch. Red faced, Anais gathered up fistfuls
of microchips and stuffed them onto a table, while Dalla swooped
down to pick up the phone. Anais noticed that the phone screen now
had a large, ominous crack in it and Dalla replaced it hastily on
the shelf, face down.

They both turned to see who had spoken. A tall, well built man
glowered at them from a doorway that led to the back of the shop.
His skull was covered with a kind of peach fuzz where he'd shorn off
most of his hair, and his cat-like eyes were as black as onyx.

“
Oh,
um, hello,” Dalla said brightly, though her smile wavered as he
continued to look at them stonily. “We're looking for Denzel.”

His eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“
Who
wants to know?”

“
Marcus
told us to ask for him,” Anais said, staring coolly back at him.
“He said he could hook us up with something we wanted.”

“
Oh
yeah?” The man leant against the doorframe. “And what might that
be?”

He stared expectantly at Anais. She had no idea what to say next.
She didn't make it a habit to buy black market goods, after all.

“
He
said you were the best person to go to for this new product,” she
said as casually as she could. “That you just knew what the
customer wanted.”

As she said it, she casually reached up and touched the spot behind
her right ear when her ID chip was placed. The man stared at her for
a moment longer, absently touching a small spot on his neck, where
Anais thought she could see a tiny mark as though he'd nicked his
skin while shaving. Her heart began to pound as she stared back,
wondering if they'd made a horrible mistake.

After what seemed like an age, the man nodded curtly and
disappeared into the back. Anais let out a sigh of relief as Dalla
squeezed her shoulder.

“
Well
done, babe,” she whispered to her. “I had no idea what to say to
him!”

Anais smiled weakly. The man, presumably Denzel, reappeared with a
small plastic box, whose contents rattled as he walked. Gingerly, he
placed the box down on the counter as though it contained something
immeasurably precious. Abruptly, he turned back to the pair who were
ogling at the box.

“
1,000
CRD,” he said shortly. Anais could've sworn her heart stopped
still.

“
For
two?” she asked and Denzel snorted.

“
For
one. If you take two though, I'll do them for 975 each,” he said,
with a rather nasty smile. The bastard, Anais thought angrily, he
knew there was no chance they had that kind of money.

“
500,”
Anais said before she could stop herself. “We'll take one for
500.”

Denzel gave a nasty laugh.

“
No
way. Not worth my time n' effort for that amount. You realise that
I'd have to take the credits wirelessly, then run it through the
system so it can't be traced back to you? I'm protecting my back as
well as yours. And for that price...” he shrugged. “Sorry
ladies, no can do.” He began to pick up the box again.

“
Wait,”
Dalla said, and Denzel looked at her. She flashed him a charming
smile before turning to Anais, her eyes never leaving Denzel's.
“Anais, I forgot to say, congrats on your dad's promotion, babe!
What department is he in now? Fraud?”