Synthetica

by Rachel Pattinson

  “Trust me, you're okay,” Xander said, his voice low and soothing. “They're not going to keep you here long. You hit your head pretty hard, but they're just keeping you in for the night for observation.”

  Anais covered herself back up with the blanket, and she sat back against the pillows. Now that she was sitting upright, she could see that her room had a floor to ceiling window across the opposite wall. Outside, it was turning to dusk, the sky tinged with purple and pink as the sun began to sink below the horizon. Lights twinkled all over the city.

  “How long have I been here?” she asked, her voice still heavy with sleep.

  “About six hours,” Xander replied.

  Anais shook her head, trying to dislodge the fog that seemed to have taken over her brain.

  “What happened?” she asked Xander but he didn't answer. He was simply looking at her, his eyes dark and intense with some emotion - sadness perhaps, or grief. Well, that made sense – Anais could barely think Dalla's name without wanting to curl up in a ball and scream.

  Gradually, the fog began to lift, as snatches of memory began to come back to her. She was at the parade – someone with a mask had appeared on the giant screens claiming to be called the Hacker – Civitas – Skye – Xander being attacked – Clay leaving – an explosion -

  She gasped and sat bolt upright. The explosion at the picochip factory. It had happened while she was trying to get to -

  “My parents,” she said, seized by a sudden fear. “Xander, where are my parents?”

  Xander didn't answer immediately. He simply looked at her, his eyes weary with grief and Anais' heart dropped. There was an odd metallic taste in her mouth.

  “Xander,” she said more urgently. “Where are they? Are they here?”

  Xander seemed to struggle with himself, as though searching for the right words to say.

  “Your dad is,” he said finally. “They're just patching up his legs now. I think he may have broken one of them.”

  “And...mum?” Anais' voice was barely above a whisper. She kept her eyes fixed on Xander. But his head dropped and she knew, even before he spoke the words, what the answer would be. Xander finally raised his head to look at her, anguish in his eyes.

  “Anais...I'm so sorry,” he said, his voice shaking. “But your mum...she's...she's gone.”

  For a moment, Anais could only stare at him, her brain refusing to absorb the information he'd just given her. It was just not possible.

  There was no way that her mum, the one person - apart from maybe Dalla – who had always been there for her; who used to mend her scrapes and scratches without the first aid info that had come with their latest ID chip upgrades; who had always loved her unconditionally, was dead. Memories flashed before her eyes, as though in defiance of this knowledge. Her mum picking her up from her first day of school, taking a photo of Anais in her first school uniform, making her dinner that time the FDU decided to break down, sitting with Anais and comforting her on the sofa well into night, as Anais cried over her first boyfriend.

  She became aware of a low, moaning noise. It was almost animalistic. Her eyes began to burn fiercely and there was a hard lump in her throat, making it impossible for her to swallow.

  Anais couldn't keep it back any longer. She had failed to save Dalla, she couldn't save Marcus, she failed to find Dalla's killer, and now because of her actions, her mum was dead.

  Her shoulders began to shake as racking sobs took hold of her body. All of her grief and the drama of the last few days finally caught up with her, as she cried and cried as though she'd never stop. She felt as though every bit of emotion, every piece of guilt that she'd felt ever since that night she'd seen Donald Pearson murdered was finally coming out. She cried, and for a long time, she just couldn't stop.

  Xander didn't say a word. He simply took her hand and held it gently in his own. He didn't speak, but then, there was nothing he could say. There was nothing he could say that could ever lessen Anais' guilt over the whole situation. She wished, harder than she'd ever wished anything before, that it had been her who had bought that SLP instead of Dalla; or even, that it had been her that Donald Pearson had been programmed to kill. She just didn't know how she could deal with all of this raw emotion inside her. It felt as though there was some kind of monster in her gut, clawing at her insides, howling to be released. She wished with all her heart that she was dead in her mother's place.

  The sun had set outside, turning the sky into a wash of dark blue, purple and orange, when Anais' sobs finally started to give way to hiccups. She wiped the last few tears away from her swollen face with the back of her hand. Xander produced a wet wipe from somewhere and handed it to her silently.

  “Thanks,” she muttered, wiping the tears and snot from her face. Somewhere at the very back of her mind, Dalla was tutting and rolling her eyes for allowing Anais to get into such a state. Anais crumpled the wipe up in her fist.

  “Sorry,” she mumbled to Xander. Xander gave her a small smile.

  “You have nothing to apologise for,” he said, his voice gentle but firm.

  Anais lay her head back on the pillow, staring up at the ceiling. Grief had left her feeling utterly empty and exhausted. She had no energy or desire to speak to Xander, or anyone else for that matter, for a very very long time. After Dalla had died, she had been terrified of being left alone and she had drawn comfort from Xander's presence. Now all she wanted in the world was to be alone.

  The silence hung heavy in the air. Xander cleared his throat.

  “Anais...I wasn't going to tell you so soon, what with everything else, but you're going to find out sooner or later...”

  “What?” Anais turned her head to look at him, pain throbbing in her head. She tried to sound intrigued, but in all honesty, she had no energy left for anything else.

  “Clay's been arrested.”

  For a second, Anais wasn't sure she'd heard right. Even after everything that had happened, it still sounded absurd.

  “What?” Anais said stupidly, even though she'd heard him perfectly well.

  “Clay's been arrested,” Xander repeated. “The police caught him as he was trying to get out of the city. With his previous record against Civitas, and the Hacker saying about having accomplices on the street, they've arrested him on suspicion of conspiracy to commit murder.”

  Anais' brain could barely even comprehend this. But as this new information began to sink in, another wave of guilt washed over her. It was her fault Clay had been dragged into this mess to begin with.

  “Well then,” she said heavily. “I guess we're just going to have to get him out somehow.”

  “Why?” For the first time, Xander's voice had an edge. “We don't owe him anything, Anais. He turned his back on us.”

  “So what?” Anais looked at him hard. “So we're just going to stoop down to his level? It's our fault he was in the city, anyway.”

  Xander didn't look happy at this prospect.

  “Look,” Anais tried again. “Clay did help us find out about the virus that had been placed in the SLPs. He probably would've helped us track down the Hacker eventually, if...”

  She trailed off, not wanting to talk about the horror of the parade or the explosion at the factory. Xander's expression softened.

  “We'll talk about it when you're feeling better,” he said, his voice gentle once more. “I've got to go to work.”

  He stood up as Anais looked at him confused.

  “But – it's nighttime. You don't work nights. Also,” she added as a thought occurred to her. “Do you even have a job after we broke into Civitas?”

  Xander gave a half smile.

  “Yeah I know. Well, Skye's kept her word and she hasn't told anyone what happened last night. And after today, they need all hands on deck, so it looks
like I'm going to be working double shifts for a long time. I do have a meeting at some point though,” he said, almost as an afterthought. “The people high up want to know why I was singled out to be attacked.”

  “How'd they know about that?” Anais asked.

  “Anais, we were in a crowd of roughly five thousand people, if not more. There were people there from Civitas who recognised me when they saw footage of the fight being played on the news.”

  Anais fell quiet, digesting this. There was one question she didn't want to know the answer to, but she had to ask.

  “How many others?” she finally worked up the courage to ask. “Who else died today?”

  “Two people from Civitas. The man who was shot, and a woman who was murdered right before the riots began. They still don't know the body count from the factory explosion,” he said. Anais couldn't helping noticing his face was tense, dark shadows lined his eyes. Despite her wish to be alone, she reached out and squeezed his hand.

  “But you're okay,” she said quietly. “You survived.”

  Xander looked down at her hand and nodded. He flashed her a small smile.

  “True. Hey, one last thing - I thought you'd like to know - the woman who tried to kill me, she's alive. I don't know what kind of state she's in, it just said on the news she's in hospital,” he told her, nodding towards a HV set in the corner of the room. Xander seemed to hesitate for a moment, before he leaned in and kissed her gently on her forehead.

  “You're going to be okay, Anais,” he said gently, his eyes looking into her. She managed to give him a tiny smile.

  “You've got another visitor by the way,” Xander added as he reached the door. “Do you want to see them, or shall I ask them to come back later?”

  “Let's get it over with,” Anais said, not even bothering to wonder who it could be. She wanted everyone to leave as soon as possible so she could be left alone with the yawning emptiness that was threatening to engulf her. The sooner everyone left her alone, the sooner she could lose herself in that blackness; she wouldn't have to feel, or think about anything else.

  Xander left. A moment later, the door opened again and Officer Hughes stepped inside. Anais stared at her. The policewoman looked younger than usual, her face pale.

  “Anais,” she said.

  “Officer Hughes,” Anais could barely find the strength to speak the words. She had a recollection of having missed an appointment with the policewoman, but she didn't have the energy to think about the consequences of her actions. Maybe Officer Hughes was here to arrest her. She didn't particularly care if she was.

  “Please,” Officer Hughes sat down next to the bed. “Call me Alice.”

  When Anais remained silent, Officer Hughes spoke again.

  “You missed two of our meetings,” she said, though there was no reproach in her voice. “You were supposed to tell me all about the SLPs.”

  “Sorry,” Anais said, not sorry at all. “I got caught up in a few things.”

  “I can see that,” Officer Hughes' eyes took in her bandages. “You went to the parade. And you were at the picochip factory. It seems wherever you go, trouble isn't far behind.”

  Her words brought another memory to front of Anais' exhausted mind.

  “That's exactly what Nox said,” Anais told her. “When he tried to arrest me at the parade. What's his problem?”

  Officer Hughes was silent for a moment.

  “Officer Nox is an exceptional officer. No really,” she added as Anais rolled her eyes. “He is. He's just...very hotheaded. And ambitious. Once he gets an idea in his head, it's very hard to persuade him otherwise. I think he saw these attacks as an opportunity to prove himself, and he got carried away thinking he could catch the culprit single-handed.”

  “You're telling me,” Anais muttered.

  “I came to tell you something,” Officer Hughes said. “I was going to tell you at our meeting, but you didn't show up. You were right about the murderer's ID chips. I checked all the bodies. They all looked the same. I know it doesn't matter now, not after the Hacker sent his message loud and clear, but I thought you'd like to know.”

  Anais stared up at the ceiling. Officer Hughes was right. It didn't matter now. Nothing mattered anymore. After a moment, Officer Hughes stood up.

  “Well,” she said awkwardly. “That's all. You're not in trouble for failing to come and see me, if that's what you were wondering. I should really issue you with an official caution, but in the circumstances...”

  Her voice tailed away. Still Anais' eyes remained on the lights in the ceiling. Officer Hughes was almost at the door, when Anais finally spoke.

  “Wait,” she said.

  Officer Hughes paused, her hand on the button to open the door.

  “Why did you stick up for me?” Anais asked. “At the police station. And why did you let me see Marcus? Nox was right – you should've kept me in for questioning. But you've always let me go. Why?”

  Officer Hughes gave her a searching look. Her brown eyes seemed full of sadness.

  “I once knew a girl like you. She also got caught up in something that wasn't her fault. You...you reminded me of her. And it just made me think...maybe...maybe someone had given her a chance, if someone had stopped to listen to her side of the story, she'd still be alive today. I didn't want the same thing to happen to you.”

  Officer Hughes' eyes had filled with tears. Anais was lost for words. Officer Hughes gave her a curt nod, before turning quickly away and opening the door. The door slid shut behind her, leaving Anais completely alone.

  Now that she was on her own, Anais didn't know what to do with herself. The room was suddenly too quiet.

  “HV on,” she said, her voice sounding hoarse. The hologram came to life and she was immediately greeted with footage of the day's events, showing the Hacker speaking on the giant screens, followed by live coverage of the aftermath of the explosion at picochip factory. The fire still raged on, clouds of smoke spiralled up into the night sky.

  She didn't want to focus on the explosion. She searched through the channels, but all normal broadcasting had been replaced by news reports, endlessly showing and analysing what the Hacker had done.

  Anais left the HV on, just for the noise. She tried to bring up the NIC in her eyesight, but her vision was clear. She blinked, but nothing popped up. She looked round and saw a tiny vial on the bedside table next to her. They'd taken out her RetCom. Instead, by her bed was a long metal flexi-pole with a glass screen attached.

  She leant over and pulled the glass tablet, bending the flexi-pole towards her. She typed in her ID number and began looking for something, anything, to take her mind off the grief and despair that were threatening to overcome her again. An unfamiliar icon flashed on the screen and she paused. The Civitas 'C' was glowing in the centre of a small envelope. With some trepidation, she clicked on the icon and began to read:

  Miss Anais Finch

  ID: 760912

  Wednesday 15th September

  Dear Miss Anais Finch,

  Congratulations!

  Due to unforeseen circumstances, we are delighted to offer you a placement in our Program Development Internship! Congratulations on securing a place on this highly competitively program!

  We will send you further details shortly, confirming your start date and salary.

  We look forward to working with you!

  Best Wishes,

  The Civitas Recruitment Team

  There was a tiny postscript added to the bottom of the message:

  *A - don't forget our agreement. We still have work to do. S.

  By the time she finished, she could barely see the writing anymore. She stared at the screen for a moment, unmoving, before ripping the glass tablet out of it's holding. She threw it at the wall, where it
smashed into hundreds of pieces. It did nothing to quieten the rage inside her.

  She leant back on her pillows, allowing the noise from the HV to wash over her; no longer listening, no longer caring about anything much. She stared out of the window for a long time. She watched as the lights of the city burned ever brighter, as night began to fall.

  He slammed his fist into the keyboard in frustration.

  The woman had survived having her ID chip cut out. Two of his intended targets had also managed to escape. His program had been foiled. In a fit of rage, he tore everything off the desk, hurling tools, picochips and plates full of old food against the wall.

  He clutched his head in his hands. Where had he gone wrong? How had this happened? It shouldn't have been possible.

  Gradually, his breathing began to return to normal. It would be okay. So far, one thousand of his programs were online from the fools that had purchased them willingly today. It was a fraction of what he had hoped, but it was something. And the explosion at the factory had gone like a dream.

  He slowly sat back down at his computer screen, thinking hard. The SLPs could wait, for now. He brought up his hacked version of the CID and typed in one name. The name he'd heard the purple haired boy speak today at the parade. Anais.