Synthetica (19 page)

“
It's
fine,” Anais managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper. She
cleared her throat. “I'll be okay. You two should go before they
charge you for being late.”

“
Will
you stay for the second service?” her dad asked her, and it felt
as though someone had punched her in the stomach. She shook her
head. Marcus' funeral had been scheduled for that afternoon but she
had no intention of going. The only reason she'd managed to drag
herself to Dalla's funeral was out of love for her friend – she
felt no such obligation towards Marcus. Despite what she had told
him at the police station, there was still a part of her that did
blame him for Dalla's death. She hated herself for thinking it, but
if he hadn't mentioned the SLPs in the first place she knew beyond a
shadow of a doubt that Dalla would still be alive.

Mrs Finch gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and her father pulled
her into a rib cracking hug. They both hurried away and Anais
watched them offer their sympathies to the Goddards; her father
shaking Mr Goddard's hand, while her mother pulled Mrs Goddard into
a hug, before they began their walk back to the city.

Reluctantly, her eyes were drawn back to the Goddards. The polite
thing to do would be to go up there and say how sorry she was that
Dalla was dead. But she couldn't bring herself to do it. She wasn't
sorry Dalla was dead – she was in agony. Guilt and grief roiled
around in her stomach, threatening to make her throw up. She never
had had the chance to tell Dalla's parents about the SLP Dalla had
bought. She had left the hospital in such a rush, thinking she'd
have time to go and visit Dalla again later, but after the fiasco at
the police station she'd never had the chance to go back and see
her. She had heard through the grapevine that the medics had listed
Dalla's cause of death as septicaemia and there was a part of her
was unwilling to shatter this illusion. Surely there was no reason
to drag Dalla's name through the mud and connect it to all these
murders, however tenuous the link. She knew deep down that she was
simply making excuses, and yet, she still found herself walking away
from Dalla's parents.

She avoided her former classmates' eyes as she slipped through the
congregation, not wanting their sympathies or to answer their
well-meaning questions. She recoiled every time someone squeezed her
arm or muttered how sorry they were. That's all very well, she felt
like telling them, but it won't bring Dalla back will it? She tuned
them all out, lost in her own world of grief, until a light touch on
her arm made her stop. She glanced up, her heart doing a limp
backflip as she looked up into Xander's face.

There were dark smudges under his eyes and his face was white. His
purple hair had lost it's usual shine. He was still wearing his
silver Civitas uniform. He gazed at Anais, his eyes full of sadness
and worry.

“
I'm
so sorry,” he said quietly, but they were empty words and judging
from his lost expression, Xander realised it. Anais remained silent,
struggling internally with what to say.

In the end, she didn't have to say anything. Xander reached out,
and pulled her close to him. It was only when her head was nestled
against his shoulder, his arms wrapped protectively around her, that
the tears came thick and fast. He didn't say anything as she sobbed
into his shoulder, her whole body shaking. After a moment, she tried
to speak.

“
If
I had r-realised earlier...if I'd j-just stopped her from buying it
in the first place, she'd still b-be here -” Anais broke off,
overcome, her face still buried against him. Xander gently pulled
away but he kept a firm grip on her shoulders as he looked into her
tear-stained face. She drew in a ragged breath in an attempt to calm
down, but only succeeded in crying harder. Xander waited until she'd
dissolved into hiccups rather than full-blown tears before he spoke.

“
This
wasn't your fault, Anais,” he said firmly. “I've told you
before, you're not to blame. How could you possibly have known what
would happen?”

His words did little to comfort her. She knew, deep down in her
heart, that there was something she could've done – there was no
reason for Dalla to die.

Even though they were standing in an open space, the wind still
playing with the tendrils of her hair, Anais felt as though she was
suffocating. It was as though the whole sky was falling in on her,
reducing her world to nothing and making it hard for her to breathe.

“
I
have to get out of here,” she said wildly. “I – I can't stay
here anymore.”

“
Okay,”
Xander seemed to accept her outburst with extraordinary calm. “Where
do you want to go?”

“
I
don't know,” she ran a hand through her hair. “Anywhere.”

Her tired mind flittered about, desperate just to run away, to get
out of the city if she could; but that wasn't a solution - not if
she wanted to keep her job and stay out of prison. She couldn't bail
on Officer Hughes, not after everything she'd done for her. Plus,
Nox would have a field day if she took off and left the city now.

She pressed her hands to her eyes, willing herself to think; where
did she want to go? It took a while for her to think clearly but
eventually, through a haze of fog, she remembered her words from
yesterday. It was far too late to save Dalla, but what about the
other unsuspecting souls who might want to get a Civitas product for
cheap? Who else was out there that might suddenly become a murderer
without knowing anything about it?

“
Denzel,”
she said, lowering her hands. “We have to speak to Denzel. I need
to find out as much as I can about those – those SLPs for Officer
Hughes.”

“
Good
choice,” Xander said. “I was wondering whether we should still
go or not.”

“
We?
Don't you have work today?”

Xander shook his head.

“
Day
off,” he said, and for a split second, his eyes softened, a flash
of their old sparkle returning. Anais wiped her face on her sleeve
and took a deep breath.

“
Let's
go,” she said, with a conviction she didn't feel. She felt as
though she'd never truly feel strongly about anything ever again.

Xander reached forward and grabbed her hand. The warmth of his palm
felt reassuring to Anais, a small reminder that she wasn't
completely left alone. Together, they set off walking back towards
the city, not speaking, but for Anais it was enough to know that
there was someone still on her side.

It was only polite, after all, that one informed someone when
their services were no longer required.

So it was completely beyond him why Denzel was on his knees,
begging and crying. It didn't evoke any sympathy in him; if anything
it simply made him more contemptuous.

Or maybe it had something to do with the knife in his hand.
Every time Denzel glanced at it, he burst into renewed sobs.

“
P-please,
just give me a chance, give me a chance. You'll have your money from
the deal, I wasn't keeping from you, I swear, I swear. An' I sold
six more of those chips today and I told 'em that if they had any
friends, to send them my way. Word's getting out – I just need a
little more time. Just a bit longer. Please, please...” Denzel
seemed inconsolable as he dissolved into tears.

His brow creased as he tried to imagine what was going through
this pitiful man's head. And then he decided he didn't particularly
care.

“
Get.
Up.”

His voice was soft, but he still saw Denzel flinch at the
hoarseness of it, at how wrong it sounded. He was used to people
recoiling at his voice. He didn't care so long as they still
listened to what he had to say. Denzel gave a loud sniff and forced
himself to his feet.

He took a step towards Denzel, and Denzel cowered back.

“
You
can keep the money.”

Denzel looked as though he couldn't believe his ears.

“
W-what?”

“
This
was never about the money. I have no use for it. Keep it.”

Relief washed over Denzel's face and he began to gush in his
relief.

“
Thank
you, thank you, I -”

“
Why
are you thanking me?”

Denzel stopped. His gaze kept flicking back to the knife.

“
I
am running out of time. And patience. You told me you could sell.
Each and every one. Of those programs within a week. You have not.
Lived up to my expectations. You have failed me.”

Denzel remained silent, stealing terrified glances between the
knife and the masked face in front of him.

“
I
have no use for failures.”

He lifted up the knife and Denzel squealed, stumbling backwards
and falling onto the floor.

“
No
– no! Please! I can still help you! Those programs – they're
amazing, I ain't never seen a copy that good before. They're just
like the real thing would be. I can sell them, I swear, I swear!”

He paused.

“
You
really. Think they're that good?” His voice was still as soft as
he could make it.

Denzel nodded furiously.

“
They're
real good. They'd pass any test, honest.” Denzel's voice was
almost a squeak in his terror.

He looked down at Denzel grovelling on the floor. He was almost
tempted to tell Denzel what his programs actually did – how they
were so much more than anything Civitas could ever dream of. But
then he decided it would be much more fun to show him.

“
Denzel,”
his hoarse voice was quiet but the cruel, amused undertone was
unmistakable. “Would you like me show you exactly how my programs
work?”

Eleven

The security scanner was broken.

Not just broken, Anais found when she inspected it, but hacked to
pieces. Small metal parts littered the alleyway floor and a jagged
piece of titanium casing dangled forlornly from the wires sticking
out of the wall.

A trickle of fear pierced through her fog of grief. It was no
coincidence that the front door of Denzel's shop had been locked
when they'd tried it, and now this. Whoever it was had been
determined to force their way in.

Xander had picked up what was left of the inner workings of the
scanner and was now examining the tiny picochips along with a
fragment of wafer-thin glass. Their eyes met as they both turned to
look up at the building in front of them. The back of Denzel's shop
was identical to those around it; the empty street showing the same
freshly painted walls with metal doors at set intervals, showing the
back entrance to each shop.The only exception to the uniform look
was the now useless scanner by Denzel's door.

Anais put out her hand, and froze as she realised the door was
already slightly ajar. Slowly, she pushed the door open to reveal a
narrow corridor which was crowded with the same kind of electrical
antiques that Denzel's shop had been full of.

“
Be
careful,” Xander's warning rang in her ears as she stepped into
the passageway. Immediately the smell hit her; a combination of
musty fabric and a trace of something more ominous, like rotten milk
or decayed food. She tried her best to breathe through her mouth as
she navigated her way through the piles of junk on either side of
her, but she could almost feel the heavy smell settling over her
skin like a blanket. She managed to squeeze her way past a pair of
big white machines which had rows of buttons above their large
circular doors. The only source of light was behind her and she had
to squint to see through the gloom.

There was a small crash and she heard Xander swear. She turned to
see him untangling his feet from the wires trailing out of the white
machines.

“
What
the hell are these?” he grumbled.

“
Dunno,”
Anais said, suppressing a sudden laugh from the look of indignation
on Xander's face.

Before she could say more, there was a thud above their heads and
they both froze. Anais stared at the ceiling, her heart hammering
hard. There was another thud, fainter now.

“
Did
you hear that?” Xander whispered, also looking up at the ceiling.

“
It
might just be Denzel,” Anais whispered back, her heart in her
mouth. But something, she couldn't say what exactly, told her it
wasn't.

There was another faint thump, and another. Footsteps. Gradually
the sounds faded away and after a few seconds of complete silence,
Anais glanced at Xander and put a finger to her lips.

They tiptoed through the corridor until they reached a set of
stairs leading upwards into the gloom. Anais and Xander exchanged a
look; Xander shook his head, but Anais ignored him and began
climbing the stairs as quietly as she could. At the top was a small
landing with several doors leading off it. Only one of them stood
slightly ajar, a crack of light streaming through the narrow gap.

Anais heard Xander's breathing in her ear.

“
What
do you think? Should we try and call for him?” Anais murmured
under her breath. There was something about this place that made her
want to keep her voice down. The fact that Denzel hadn't appeared
yet, despite the noise they were making downstairs, struck her as
rather ominous.

“
You
can try,” Xander breathed back. Anais cleared her throat.

“
Denzel?”
her voice sounded high and thin. She tried again. “Denzel? Are you
there?”

There was no answer.

Mouth dry, Anais crept forwards towards the open door. Her fingers
trembled as she reached for the door handle. She berated herself for
being so scared when, logically, there was nothing to be afraid of.
She took a deep breath and pushed it open.

It took Anais' eyes a few seconds to adjust. Light filtered through
a gap in the thin curtains, but it seemed extraordinarily bright
after the darkness in the hall. She blinked and saw that this room
was just as cluttered as downstairs. Piles of computer screens,
toolboxes and parts of machines that Anais couldn't identify were
everywhere. There was a dangerously high pile of metal crates either
side of the door, crammed full of more plastic and metal. She took
another step forward and then stopped still, her heart going
haywire.

Denzel was sitting on the sagging couch staring straight at her.
There was a trickle of something dark coming out of his mouth, which
was slowly dripping down onto his orange t-shirt. In his limp right
hand, he held the same small device that he'd used to download the
SLP onto Dalla's ID chip.

“
Oh
fuck,” Anais whispered.

“
What
the -” Xander's sharp intake of breath came from behind her. For a
moment, all Anais could do was stand there, horrified. She wondered
briefly if she should be screaming or raising the alarm somehow.
Instead, she found herself taking a step towards Denzel's body.
Xander seized her arm, making her jump.

“
What
are you doing? Anais, we should go,” Xander said, the fear in his
voice palpable.

Anais shrugged him off and knelt down in front of Denzel. His blank
eyes seemed to stare straight through her, making her shudder. Her
RetCom remained silent, the only confirmation she needed that he was
dead. And yet, she couldn't help reaching out and touching where his
pulse on his neck ought to be. She gasped as his skin's unexpected
warmth flared up her fingertips. She snatched them away again, heart
pounding. Her eyes alighted on the machine in Denzel's hand and,
ever so carefully, she touched his right ear. His head flopped to
the side, but now she could see clearly what she was looking for.
Denzel's ID chip had been burnt black, standing out against the raw
skin around it.

She just managed to stop herself from shrieking as Xander grabbed
her arm and pulled her to her feet.

“
We
have to leave, now,” he said urgently. Anais took no notice of him
as she stared down at Denzel's limp corpse.

“
He's
only just dead,” she choked out, her throat constricting.

“
Even
more reason for us to get out of here,” Xander said and Anais
finally registered the alarm in his tone. She looked up at him.

“
Why?”

“
Anais,
listen to me,” Xander placed his hands on her shoulders, forcing
her to look into his eyes. In this light, they looked almost black.
“If the police find us now we're both going to be arrested and
this time, they're probably not going to let us go. If they find you
at the scene of another crime, there is no way you're walking out of
that station again. It's too suspicious.”

Anais couldn't help feeling a little outraged.

“
But,
I never -”

“
I
know,” Xander cut across her. “
I
know
.
But the police won't see it that way will they? Almost every single
time there's been a murder, you've been involved somehow. If they
come here and see that Denzel's ID chip has been fried the same way
Marcus' was – bearing in mind that you were with Marcus when he
died, and now we're alone here with Denzel – they're not going to
let you go. It'll be our word against theirs. The medics are going
to be here any second once they realise Denzel's ID had gone off the
grid. Someone's probably already on their way to check it out. We
have to leave
right
now
.”

Xander's firm voice brought her back to her senses. He was
completely right. Except...she couldn't help glancing back down at
Denzel. He had been their only lead to finding out why Dalla and
Marcus had died. How were they supposed to find out where the SLPs
came from now?

A siren sounded in the distance and Xander glanced edgily at the
window.

“
Let's
go,” he turned and strode across the room. Anais gave Denzel one
final look before following him. Xander was waiting by the door, but
as she went to pass him, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up.
She spun on her heel, staring wildly around the seemingly empty
room.

“
What?”
Xander glanced around the room. “What's wrong?”

Anais shook her head. She didn't have the words to explain it –
all she knew was, something was off. There was an inexplicable
feeling that something was wrong, something they'd missed. And then
it came to her.

“
Xander,”
she said in a low voice, trying to keep her voice calm. “Denzel is
dead. But he's probably been dead for what, ten, fifteen minutes,
maybe? Once that...thing,” she gestured to the machine in Denzel's
hand. “...is downloaded into your system, you start having a fit.
So there's no way he was in any state to get up and walk around for
at least a few minutes before he died.”

“
Right,”
Xander shot her puzzled look. “Where are you going with this?”

Anais looked him straight in the eye.

“
So
who was it we heard walking around?”

*

Almost as soon as she spoke the words, the teetering pile of metal
crates by the door pitched forward. Anais screamed and just managed
to jump out of the way. A CPU unit tumbled out of one of the crates,
catching her on the leg and causing her to stumble. Xander was
caught right in the middle of the avalanche. Anais heard him yelling
as various pieces of metal came crashing down on him.

It seemed to go on forever. She threw her hands above her head as
lightbulbs and old screens exploded as they fell around her. She
felt the sting on her arms as more than one shard of glass caught
her on the way down. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a dark
figure slip through the doorway, hampered somewhat by the mess he
had created. But before she could go after him, she had to know if
Xander was okay.

“
Xander,”
she screamed. She scrambled up and began pulling objects off the
pile, ignoring the jagged pieces of glass and metal that pricked her
skin.

“
I'm
fine,” Xander's voice was muffled underneath the crates. “Just
go!”

With one last agonising look at him struggling out from under the
wreckage, Anais leapt over the mess, stumbling through the door. She
blinked as she found herself back in the dark hallway. She could
feel reverberations coming up through the floor as whoever it was
fled down the stairs. She didn't give her eyes time to adjust to the
lack of light as she ran, almost pitching herself headfirst down the
stairs as a result. She took them two at a time, jumping the last
few and landing with a grunt of pain on the floor. She looked up in
time to see the intruder running down the corridor towards the open
door, holding his right arm rather stiffly. She shouted and set off
after him but he didn't pause. Instead, he began pulling down the
piles of junk around him as he passed, obstructing her path. Anais
managed to scramble through most of it but it served his purpose. By
the time she reached the door and looked up, he was gone.

Undeterred, Anais burst through the doorway and stared wildly
around the alley. It was empty except for a supply van that was
hovering a few doors down, the driver looking at her quizzically as
he unloaded boxes of dragon fruit. The nearest exit was the one that
she and Xander had walked down not half an hour earlier. She ran as
best as she could but a fire was beginning to shoot its way up her
leg from where the CPU unit had hit her.

She limped down the small alley and into the main street, and her
heart dropped. The crowds were beginning to descend on the market,
making it impossible for her to pick out anyone suspicious. She
cursed, spinning around, but she couldn't see anything; just a group
of middle-aged tourists ambling past while several men in spotless
suits hurried by, their shiny shoes clicking smartly on the
pavement. Across the street, several council workers in navy
uniforms were pinning up silver bunting and banners in preparation
for Civitas' parade. A woman in a deep purple suit and high heels
was walking a small yapping dog. She stared in distaste as she
passed Anais, who was looking distinctly worse for wear.

Anais looked around more closely. There were several individuals
walking alone, but none of them seemed to be clutching their arm or
to be out of breath. No one was even wearing a black jacket, or had
shoulder length hair, like the intruder had had.

She pushed her hair back from her face, wondering what on earth
they were going to do now. There was a slight pressure on her
shoulder as Xander caught up to her and laid his hand on her
shoulder.

“
Are
you okay?” she asked, running her eyes up and down him. Apart from
a rip in his silver uniform and a few small scratches on his hands,
he seemed okay.