Synthetica (22 page)

“
Anais...”

Anais ignored Xander's voice. She didn't want him to tell her the
inevitable. They were so close, she just knew it. They had to be.

And then she spotted what she was looking for – an even smaller
dirt path leading off the one they were on.

“
There!”
she cried, pointing to the path and hurrying towards it, not heeding
Xander as he called after her.

This track had two parallel lines running down it's length, the
criss-crossing pattern repeating endlessly. Although she couldn't
tell what could have caused them, Anais took it as a sign that the
track had been used recently. They were on the right path.
Excitement surged through her as she beckoned at Xander to follow
her.

They followed the path as it cut through one of the fields, tall
stalks of wheat bearing down on them from both sides, before they
finally emerged into a small clearing. In the middle of the space
was the smallest, ramshackle house Anais had ever seen.

The
house was made out of wood –
wood
– but many of the planks were rotting and large chunks had fallen
away from the roof. The sagging floorboards on the veranda looked as
though they'd collapse the moment anyone set foot on it. One of the
front windows had come out completely, and the resulting hole had
been haphazardly covered with a sheet of blue plastic. It was a
complete mess. Anais loved it.

There were no stand-alone houses in the city. When the city had
been built, it had been designed to be economical, and that meant
cramming as many people as they could into what space they had.
Although the city's blocks of flats were aesthetically pleasing and
the communal gardens were well kept, it couldn't compare to this; an
actual house surrounded by nothing but open space and clear sky.

Anais and Xander stood, transfixed.

“
This
is amazing,” Anais breathed. She glanced around, but couldn't see
anything else beyond the fields of wheat. They were on an island in
a sea of gold. “Do you think this is the only one?”

She was slightly worried that they had come to the wrong place, or
that there was some kind of settlement nearby and they had missed
Clay's house completely.

“
Must
be,” Xander said, still staring up at the house in awe. “If
there were any more in this condition, surely they must've collapsed
years ago. I'm surprised this one hasn't yet.”

They stood for a moment longer, Anais drinking in every tiny detail
that she could. Behind the house were two large barns that only
looked in slightly better shape than the house did, their metal
panels turning orange from the accumulation of years of rust. A
gnarled tree stood in the small space between the house and the
barns; an old piece of wood attached to two frayed pieces of rope
swung forlornly from one of the branches.

“
Shall
we go and see if there's anyone in?” Xander asked. Anais
hesitated. Now that they were actually here, her doubts were
beginning to come back full force. She was half tempted to turn
around and run back to the city, where they could come up with a new
plan that didn't involve an alleged madman. It was only the thought
of Dalla and bringing the person responsible for her death to
justice that kept Anais' feet where they were.

They had barely taken two steps towards the house when a voice
shouted from inside, causing them to stop still in shock.

“
You
back again so soon? I told you, I need -”

The voice stopped abruptly as a man burst onto the veranda, and saw
the two teens standing frozen in his front yard.

His eyes flicked between them as he took in their appearance, from
their brightly coloured hair, to the bandage on Anais' right hand.
During that long, drawn out moment while all three of them observed
each other, Anais' eyes flicked over the man. His brown hair was
peppered with grey, receding back from his forehead. It straggled
down, almost reaching his shoulders. His beard was just as wild. He
looked as though he had once been tall, but something – life - had
beaten him down over the years and his shoulders were hunched over.
His clothes were rumpled and stained. Clearly, this was not someone
who used the services of a HelixPod to keep themselves young. But
Anais recognised him from the news stories she'd read not hours
earlier. He was unmistakably Clay Winterbourne.

Clay's eyes stared at them mistrustfully. His gaze dropped to
Xander's silver uniform and the little colour his face had drained
away. Without a word, he turned on his heel and marched back
indoors, slamming the door behind him.

Anais and Xander looked at each other in bewilderment.

“
Well,”
Xander started to say. “He looks -”

The front door banged open and this time when Clay appeared, he was
clutching a sleek, black shotgun. The barrel was pointing straight
at Xander.

Anais and Xander yelled in shock and stumbled hurriedly backwards,
raising their hands hastily into the air.

“
I
ain't done nothing wrong,” Clay shouted, advancing down the
veranda steps towards them. “So you can just get the hell of my
property, right now. Go on, go, NOW!”

His
voice rose to a roar, and the two of them took another step back.
Anais felt a tickle across her neck as they reached the very edge of
the wheat field. Her mind was blank with shock. Still Clay advanced
on them, screaming, but the words were no longer making any sense.
Come on, think, think, think,
her mind screamed at her as Clay snapped the safety off. She glanced
at the shotgun in Clay's hands and her eyes followed to where the
barrel was pointing. Suddenly, it all clicked.

She took a deep breath and stepped in front of Xander. Her palms
were still shakily held up, and faced Clay as calmly as she could,
despite her heart thumping in her chest. Clay stopped shouting. He
didn't advance on them any further but he didn't lower his gun
either.

“
What
the hell are you doing?” Xander hissed in Anais' ear, trying to
pull her back.

“
You're
going to make things worse, be quiet,” Anais hissed back, not
taking her eyes off Clay.

She stood up a little straighter and looked Clay in the eye.

“
We're
not from Civitas,” she said, as calmly and clearly as she could.
She could see Clay's knuckles whiten as he gripped the gun harder.
He stared at her, wild eyed, his tongue flicking out to lick his
lips. She could see him struggling whether or not to believe her.

He raised his gun slightly, using it to gesture at Xander.

“
He
is. Why else would he be in that ridiculous peacock's uniform?”

Anais felt Xander bristle, and she jumped in before he could speak.

“
Okay,
he does work for Civitas, but,” she added quickly, seeing Clay
raise the gun higher. “he's with security, entry level. He hasn't
been there long.”

Clay narrowed his eyes.

“
And
you?” he asked gruffly.

“
I
was a student at the Academy. I've just started working at the
picochip factory,” Anais replied.

Clay stared at them both a moment longer. Abruptly, he lowered his
gun. Anais breathed a sigh of relief but before she could say
anything else, Clay had turned on his heel and stomped back to the
house.

“
Hey,
wait -” Anais called, hurrying after him. But it was too late.
Clay had gone back inside, slamming the door shut behind him. There
was a silence.

Anais exchanged a look with Xander before walking cautiously up to
the house. They stopped at the veranda steps, looking up at the
front door which had larges strips of paint peeling off it. Anais
took a deep breath and called out.

“
We
just wanted to talk to you.”

There was no answer.

“
Hey,”
she raised her voice. “I said -”

“
Well
I don't want to talk to you,” came the muffled shout back. “Go
away.”

“
Please,”
Anais tried again. “It won't take long, we just -”

“
Go
away.”

“
Just
hear -”

“
Go
away.”

“
But
-”

“
Didn't
you hear me? PISS OFF!” his voice roared.

“
For
fuck's sake, we need your fucking help, alright!” Anais shouted
back, her temper getting the better of her.

There was another silence, and for one wild moment, Anais wondered
if he was secretly taking aim at them through a window. But then the
door creaked open and Clay's head appeared in the small gap, looking
at them suspiciously.

“
My
help?” he said, glaring at them. “How could
I
help
you
?”

“
Look,”
Anais said, forcing her voice to be calm. “We know you used to
work for Civitas -”

Clay's eyes narrowed at the name, and Anais hurried on.

“
But
something weird is going on in the city, and we – I – think
Civitas may be involved somehow. We thought you might be able to
help us, given that you've already hacked into the company's systems
before.”

Clay nodded towards Xander, mistrust evident in his eyes.

“
What
about the peacock? He works for Civ – them. What use is he, if he
works in security and can't access the system for you?”

“
I
don't have access to all their files,” Xander said, not taking his
eyes off Clay. “And even if I did have access, I wouldn't know
what to look for anyway – the kind of information we need, it's
not going to be easily accessible.”

The two men glared at each other for a moment as Anais eyed them
both nervously. Finally, Clay's head disappeared from view. Anais'
shoulders sagged in disappointment. He didn't want to know. She
threw a desperate look at Xander, who looked just as gutted as she
felt. There was no one who else they could turn to now.

A voice floated through the still open door.

“
Are
you going to stay out there all damn day, or are you coming in?”

Thirteen

The interior was just as bad as the outside.

The whole place smelled of rotting wood, whiskey, tobacco and a
slight smokey smell that took Anais a minute to identify. Fire smoke
– Anais had only smelt it once or twice in life, when the trees in
the park were deemed too old to be allowed to grow anymore and the
Wardens lit huge bonfires just to get rid of the wood. Now, being
inside a whole house made out of wood, made Anais wonder if they'd
been missing a trick by burning the trees instead of using them.

The house was just as unkempt as it's owner. Stained clothes and
empty liquor bottles were strewn everywhere. Mouldy crusts, crumbs
and other unidentifiable pieces of food littered what little
floorspace there was left. It was clear from the muddle of dirty
blankets on the threadbare sofa that Clay had also claimed this
small living room as his bedroom. At the other end of the room,
there was a small black box with smoke stained windows; powdery ash
lay in heaps around it. Anais simply couldn't believe that anyone
would choose to live in such squalor. Where was the alcove that the
cleaning robot was housed in? And surely Clay would know that his
FDU would recycle all of his uneaten food for him?

Several other doors lead off the living room. She could hear Clay
muttering to himself and clattering around through one of the open
doorways, in what was presumably the kitchen. Anais stared around at
the furniture in wonder. Everything was made out of wood or fabric.
She touched the arm of the sofa, feeling the rough material beneath
her fingers and marvelled at the texture. Everything in her flat was
new, replaced every year during the city's annual 'Spring Cleaning'
shopping event and most of her furniture was made out of plastic or
metal, including the sofa. Even her bedsheets were made out of a
special kind of polymer that resembled cloth, but was actually a
kind of plastic. She bent down to examine a bottle at her feet. What
was left of the liquid inside had turned to a sticky brown coating.
Green and white mould dusted the inside. She wrinkled her nose as
she nudged it away with her foot.

“
Anais.”

She heard Xander's quiet voice and looked up. He was examining
something on a small rickety table by the black box. Anais picked
her way through the debris to see what he had found.

On the table were three photographs. They weren't on electronic
screens like normal photos were, instead, they were in black wooden
frames. Gingerly, Anais picked one up and tapped the front of it
experimentally but the photograph didn't change or move. They were
they only things in the entire room that looked as though they were
cleaned regularly. The glass gleamed, clear of any dust or
fingerprints. The colours in the photographs stood out vividly
amongst the squalor of the room. Anais carefully replaced the one
she was holding and examined them all.

One of the pictures at the back showed a young woman with long
magenta coloured hair, sitting on a blanket in the middle of a park.
Her beauty was breathtaking by anyone's standards; her vivid green
eyes sparkled and her cherry red lips were curved into a broad
smile, as though she'd been laughing the instant the photo had been
taken.

The second photo showed twin girls with waist-length chestnut brown
hair and green eyes, sitting side by side on a homemade swing. Anais
realised it was the same swing that she'd seen from the yard
outside. They were wearing identical pale blue dresses and were
grinning at the camera.

The last frame at the front of the table showed a photo of the
woman again, this time dressed in a long midnight blue dress.
Judging from the glitzy background, she was at some kind of formal
party. She was standing next to a young man with wavy brown hair;
his arm was around her waist, pulling her close. With a jolt, Anais
realised it was a young Clay Winterbourne. She looked closer at the
picture. He was wearing a smart black suit, and a tiny silver 'C'
was pinned to the front of his jacket. There was a twinge in Anais'
chest. He looked so happy as he gazed at the woman, as though she
was the only other person in the world.

“
Having
fun?” came a sarcastic voice. A slamming noise jolted Anais back
to her senses. She whipped round rather guiltily. Xander also
jumped, looking shamefaced, as though they'd been caught doing
something they shouldn't.

Clay was glowering at her and Anais hastily dropped her eyes to the
coffee table, where he'd placed two glasses of water. Xander picked
up his drink and muttered his thanks, his cheeks still rather pink.

Anais picked up the other glass, taking a grateful sip. She was
aware of Clay's eyes still on her.

“
Let
me make this quick,” Clay said shortly. “'I don't know why you
think I can help you, but I'm listening, and you better have a damn
good case for me. You have exactly two minutes before I go get my
shotgun, and this time we'll see whether the old girl still works,
shall we?”

Anais and Xander stared at him in shock. Clay raised his own glass
to his lips and took a large swig of amber coloured liquid. He sat
down in a sagging armchair, gesturing with his glass.

“
Go,”
he said.

“
But,
surely you're not serious?” Xander asked in disbelief. In answer,
Clay looked pointedly at an old-fashioned circular clock that hung
on the wall above the sofa.

Anais stepped in. She wasn't sure how much contact Clay had with
the city, so she decided she might as well start at the beginning.

“
Civitas
is launching a new program that mean you can download and learn new
subjects instantly,” Anais explained. “These programs, they call
them SLPs. They're produced on picochips and you can use this
special device to download the information onto your own ID chip.”

Clay looked supremely unimpressed by her explanation. She hurried
on.

“
But
there's someone out there who's created their own copy of the SLP
program, only, in their version, you don't just learn about whatever
it is you want learn about. It's infected with some kind of malware.
Whoever it is that's made these programs, we think they're using
them to control people and making them commit murders. Once you've
committed the crime, the virus is activated, or maybe the person who
made these SLPs initiates it, and you die.”

Clay looked vaguely interested by her last point.

“
So,
these 'SLPs'...how do they kill you?” he asked, his voice gruff.

“
It's
like an illness,” Xander supplied. “You start coughing up blood
and having convulsions. Basically, your ID chip malfunctions and it
messes with your brain. Or, that's the theory we have right now.”

Clay remained quiet, looking slightly disturbed by Xander's
explanation.

“
The
murders that have happened so far, they're all linked,” Anais told
him. “Every victim has been a rival of Civitas. Two of them were
even thinking of setting up their technology company. And so far,
every murderer has died too.”

Clay blinked and focused on her, his blue eyes sharp.

“
This
all sounds lovely, but I have a feeling you're holding out on me
darlin',” Clay said, his blue eyes boring into Anais. “How'd you
find out about those programs? How'd you know every murderer died
the same way?”

Anais hesitated.

“
My
friend bought one,” she admitted. “And now she's dead. But
before D - Dalla died, I saw one of the murders taking place. The
man collapsed right in front of me, just like Dalla did. And one of
my other friends from school bought one of the counterfeit SLPs too,
and he died in the exact same way. It's too much of a coincidence
that the two people I know who bought these programs died, just like
the murderer did. I know it's a lot to ask, but I'm asking you to
help us.” Anais kept her eyes level on Clay, refusing to be the
first to look away.

“
And
what exactly is it that you want me to do?” Clay asked, glancing
at them both.

“
You
can get us into Civitas,” Xander said. “You've hacked into their
systems before. We need your help to either find out if the SLP
program files are missing or if they've been tampered with. Or, if
this is Civitas' work, we'll need to locate the malicious program
and destroy it, if there is one,” he added, with a sideways look
at Anais.

Clay sniffed.

“
No.”

For a second, Anais didn't believe what she'd just heard.

“
No?”
she repeated in disbelief. “But – why?”

Clay drained the rest of the whiskey from his glass and slammed it
down onto the coffee table. He stood up swiftly and began pacing
back and forth.

“
Did
you really think after everything those bastards did to me, I'd risk
going back there again?” he growled. “I swore I would never set
foot in that place again. I wouldn't even go into the damn city if I
could help it, but unfortunately the Food Distribution Network
refuses to come out this far.”

He stopped pacing suddenly and stared out of the dusty window
towards the wheat fields. His hands jittered nervously.

“
They
killed her,” he said suddenly, his back to them. “They murdered
my wife.”

Anais didn't know what to say. She glanced at Xander helplessly.

“
I
know what you're thinking,” Clay said, his voice quiet. “I know
what they've told you. Crazy ol' Clay – the one who went mad and
killed his whole family in some kinda sick protest. Let me ask you
something – if you disagreed with a new kind of technology, would
you murder your family over it?”

He finally turned back to face them, waiting for them to answer.
Xander shook his head.

“
No,”
Anais whispered. “I wouldn't.”

“
Exactly,”
Clay growled. “Course you wouldn't. Who would? And yet, everyone
seems happy to believe that I'm capable of something like that.”

“
But,”
Anais said cautiously. “You did break into Civitas. You tried to
erase their plans for the ID chips...”

Clay's eyes swivelled to her.

“
I'll
not deny that,” he said finally. “It ain't something I'm proud
of. But...you're young. You wouldn't understand.”

“
Try
us,” Anais said, but there was no defiance behind her words.

“
Alright,”
Clay grunted. Slowly, he sat back down in the armchair. Anais and
Xander sat down gingerly on the sofa, Anais cringing inwardly at
sitting on the dirty bedlinen.

“
I
never liked working for Civitas,” Clay started. “But...writing
codes, creating programs, designing new tech – it's something I
was damn good at, even if I do say so myself. So I stayed. I never
had any real problem with them – they were arrogant and they
didn't like anyone trying to muscle in on their ground - but
otherwise, it was good money. It's where I met Magda.” Clay's face
softened for a moment as his eyes flicked towards the photographs on
the table before he continued.

“I worked for them for years. Every piece of tech you kids love
to use – your HV sets, your tablets, those little things in your
eye – I helped design all of it. And then one day the head of my
department comes to me and says 'Clay, we need your help. We want
you to design a chip that has almost limitless memory capacity but
that's small enough to fit behind a human ear.' I asked why and he
told me the government wanted a new way to trace people. He said it
would allow us to finally be 'free'. We could find out everything
about a person, just by reading their ID chip. It would put an end
to criminals on the run, dramatically reduce crime rates – we'd be
creating a safer world.”

Clay's face darkened.

“
It
was all a load of horseshit. I knew, as soon as he told me about
them, it was just another way for the government, the country, the
whole bloody world, to keep tabs on innocent people. So I refused
and they fired me. I tried to protest, tried make them see that
humans aren't meant to be treated like machines, but they wouldn't
listen. I got frustrated. That's when they evicted me from the
building. I told them I'd never become one of their mindless drones,
that I wouldn't condemn my family to becoming their slaves.”

Clay was becoming more and more agitated, his fingers drumming
against his knee as he spoke.

“
But
we're not slaves,” Xander said, sounding puzzled. “We're still
free to do what we want. We can choose whatever job we like, go
anywhere in the world we want to.”

“
Our
ID chips let our parents know that we're safe,” Anais chimed in.
“We don't get mugged because we don't carry cash. If there's an
accident, the emergency services know about it in an instant. Just
because we have ID chips doesn't make us any less human.”

Clay merely looked at them sadly.

“
You've
been brought up with those chips, you don't know any different. How
can you when all you've ever been told is how fantastic Civitas is,
how it's done wonders for our society. You don't know how unnatural
all...this...is.”