A loud boom sparked a wall of fierce heat that turned Nick weightless as it launched him backwards.
Another explosion of light, but this time it slammed through Nick’s vision as he hit the ground face first. The day dimmed and a cacophony of shrill panic surrounded him.
He passed out to the coppery taste of his own blood.
Chapter 2
The wind slammed into Marcie, her legs working overtime to counter the effects and stop her being thrown to her death. It didn’t matter what cybernetics she had, nothing could compensate for a fall of over one thousand metres. When she left the building, she had to do it by choice to stand any chance of survival. Hundreds of tiny adjustments, micromovements, small twinges, they fired from the top of her thighs to where her ankles met her feet. It had taken her years to trust her synthetic parts, but the microprocessor’s calculations were always better than her own.
Marcie stood on top of the Apollo Tower—the tallest building in Scala City—as she watched the traffic crisscross above most buildings. Most buildings, but not the Apollo Tower. The skylanes were organised by the traffic mainframe. Collisions were a thing of the past. A sprawl of lights stretched away in every direction. Vehicles’ headlights, the white pinpricks of residential buildings, the multicoloured glow of commerce. Strip lights lined the edges of the hundreds of walkways stretching between buildings as if they’d organically grown out of necessity.
Marcie’s blue glasses not only hid her red eyes when she visited the city, but they were equipped with cameras and a microphone. A piece of equipment that would get her killed in the Blind Spot, Sal had given them to her, and she’d stored them outside ever since. They were essential so he could join her on their secret runs. She raised her voice over the howling winter winds. “It always looks amazing in the dark. Such a beautiful city.”
“And so much prettier than the Blind Spot,” Sal said.
“My armpit is prettier than the Blind Spot.”
“I wouldn’t know.” The click and whir of his chrome lungs gave him the puff to finish. “The last time I saw you with your top off, we were four and pissing in the same lukewarm water.”
“Ew!”
“Show me a four-year-old who doesn’t let go when they’re bathing.”
The Apollo Tower had been the tallest building in the world for a hot minute. At least, that was what the residents of Scala City believed. Hard to be certain with so little communication between the cities dotted throughout the wastelands. Very few things passed through the wastelands. Most people guessed there were taller buildings now in Prime City. Thirty, fifty, one hundred times the size of Scala City, and with a skyline dominated by skyscrapers, they had to have something taller. When you ran out of space on the ground, you could only build up. Other than the neon glow on the horizon, Marcie hadn’t ever seen the place. Maybe one day. Although, for now, she’d be happy just getting out of the Blind Spot.
The twitching and shifting turned into a buzz as Marcie’s legs worked overtime. Unlike her dad’s, many of her enhancements were hidden. It only took her blue mirrored glasses to make sure all of them were.
Sal sighed. “I wish I could be up there with you.”
Winter nipped at Marcie’s skin. She filled her lungs with the cold city air. So much fresher than in the Blind Spot because the purifiers on the ground turned the atmosphere into something worth breathing. Like Prime City, Scala City had built plenty of skyscrapers. Even from her current vantage point, she couldn’t count them all. The moon laid a silver highlight along their tips. “It won’t be long before we’re living here.”
“Can you—” click, whir “—adjust the camera?” Sal said.
“I will bring you with me.”
“I still can’t see.”
After a slight twist of her glasses, Marcie said, “Better?”
“Not really.”
“It’s the best I can do. If I move them any more, I’ll expose my eyes. Do that and I might as well wear a flashing neon coat with Blind Spot written across the back.”
“It would be an improvement.”
“I didn’t choose the colour; it was the most appropriate fabric in Mum’s wardrobe at the time. And what do you expect, that I’d run around in cerise? Brown keeps me hidden. You know what Dad says. Your anonymity is your freedom. Protect it. So if that means wearing brown, then I’ll wear brown.”
“And if you get caught, it has nothing to do—” click, whir “—with me, okay? I don’t want to be on the receiving end of Wrench’s wrath.”
Marcie laughed. “He’s not likely to blame you, is he? Oh shit, I didn’t mean that. I—”
“It’s fine. You’re right. Talking of getting caught, you need to get moving. I know there aren’t many CCTV drones in the city, but you’re asking to be filmed by one if you stay still for too long.”
“Do you think they’ll ever put more cameras in?”
“What’s the point while there are anonymity masks? More cameras means more people will wear them in the city as well as in the Blind Spot. Not only will it be a waste of money, but with so many anonymous citizens, the place will become a nightmare to police.”
Marcie leaned forward. The walkways below were no more than thin dotted lines of lights. A thousand metres always seemed much farther when it ran straight down. Her heart quickened and Sal breathed more heavily. This was what they came here for. “Ready?” Before Sal could reply, she let go.
The tick of grit in the air peppered her glasses, and the wind sent her ponytail out behind her like a streamer as she ran down the mirrored dome at the top of the Apollo Tower. Her legs managed the necessary adjustments to meet her demands while Sal screamed as if he’d made the run himself.
The second tallest building in the city stood near to the Apollo Tower and clocked in at just under eight hundred metres. Marcie fixed her sights on it, her eyes feeding the calculations to her microprocessor.
The large mirrored window beneath her let out a bass drum boom when she kicked away from it. A taxi between her and the next tallest building, the power in her legs slammed a loud thud against its roof. It always sounded worse, her legs compensating so she didn’t leave a dent. The driver screamed from his window, but she’d be long gone by the time the traffic mainframe let him turn around.
Despite her velocity, Marcie’s legs accommodated a near soundless landing on the flat gravel roof. Her heart pounded as Sal panted in her ear. “No matter how many times I do this,” she said, “it never gets old.”
“So where are we going tonight?” Sal said.
“The place where it happened.”
“Is that wise? There’ll be police everywhere because of the explosion. Maybe even CCTV.” Click, whir. “And with the curfew, you’ll stand out like a sore thumb, even if you do keep your eyes hidden behind those glasses.”
“It’ll be fine.”
“Aren’t you worried about Wrench catching you?”
“Of course I am, but we’ve been over this already. I’m not going to be a prisoner in my own home. I’m nearly sixteen and he still treats me like a baby. It’s because of him that I want to live here, and it’s because of him that I sneak out at night.”
“He does it for what he thinks are the right reasons. It may be misguided, but you can see he loves you.”
“What are you, Wrench’s advocate or something? Are you on his payroll now? Look, stop worrying, Sal. You can’t stop me from doing what I want to do, so just enjoy it. I need to see it myself. I need to see what we’re being blamed for.”
“Just be careful.”
“I can turn the camera off if you want?”
Click, whir.
Marcie ran to the edge of the roof, kicked off, and leaped at the next highest tower over one hundred metres away. Whilst she’d made the previous jump without them, this time, she spread her arms. She’d modelled her suit on a flying squirrel—colour and all—the wing flaps filling and turning her into a glider.
Moving on an instinct fe
d through her eyes to her microprocessor, Marcie turned left and right. Each adjustment kept her on course for the next tower, accommodating the fierce wind. But her eyes couldn’t make adjustments for what they couldn’t see. The air bike came from nowhere.
Sal screamed, “Shit!”
Marcie pulled her right arm in and spun away from the collision. The wind of the vehicle brushed past her, the driver’s mouth hanging open as he watched her shoot away. She used her left wing to right her course and completed her next silent landing.
“How do you not kill yourself?” Sal said.
“A lot of money’s been spent on my enhancements. Are you ready to go again?”
“Yep.”
The retina and fingerprint scanners to access Wellbeing Square meant little when you came in from the sky. Marcie’s route would take her over the two-metre-high fence and its electrified spikes. An exclusion zone above the square prevented vehicles from passing over it, but her suit didn’t march to the beat of the traffic mainframe.
“Marcie, have you seen the drone?”
Of course she’d seen the drone. She had the same tech in her eyes they used in the Blind Spot to sense cameras; she wouldn’t get caught out. But it clearly hadn’t seen her. As she came in from above, she landed on it with both feet and rode it into the ground, shattering it before it caught any footage of her.
“Well, that’s one way to deal with it,” Sal said.
Marcie looked around to give him a good view of the place.
“It’s been—” click, whir “—completely shut down.”
“Isn’t it always at this time of night? I’m sure it’ll be open again in the morning. After all, capitalism stops for no one.”
All of the square’s lights had been shut off. For what good it did; in a place like Scala City, power cuts were the only thing that could bring complete darkness, and they hadn’t had one of those in decades. Still, Marcie’s eyes flicked to night vision to help her penetrate the shadows.
Sal must have heard the click that marked the transition. “Just tell me what you see.”
“Less mess than I expected, if I’m being honest. I thought I’d see a charred mark on the ground.”
“They must have already cleaned it up.”
“Yeah, maybe. Some of the windows in the surrounding buildings have been shattered, but it doesn’t look to have done any structural damage to them.”
The clack of one of the turnstiles snapped Marcie rigid. Two police officers had entered the square.
“I knew you shouldn’t have done that to their drone.”
Marcie scanned the air above them. “Thankfully, they haven’t brought another one with them.” Dressed from head to toe in bulletproof riot gear, their faces were covered by full helmets with tinted visors. A blue light on top of one of their helmets came to life, dazzling her through her night vision and sending her stumbling backwards. The whoop, whoop of a siren accompanied it.
Sal saw it before Marcie and hissed, “Shit,” through the earpiece.
Marcie switched off her night vision. The two officers had come armed. They pointed their guns at her. “Hey, kid,” one of them said, her voice amplified and distorted, “you shouldn’t be here. It’s past curfew and this is a crime scene. Put your hands up.”
She spoke so only Sal could hear her. “You ready for this?”
“Just be safe.”
Marcie smiled. “Where’s the fun in that?” A second after she burst to life, the crack of gunfire snapped through the square, chasing her as she ran. Several bullets hit the ground behind her, gouging the stone and spraying the back of her legs with small chips.
Marcie zigzagged. She moved quicker than any organic being, especially someone as poorly trained as a cop in Scala City. She had more speed and she intended to use it, but first, she had to work out how to get the hell out of there.
The steps then came to her, fed from her eyes to her microprocessor. One building to the next, she traced her exit. She’d be clear in three bounds. Until …
A loud whoom and the shimmering blue light of a dome covered the square. Much like the anonymity dome covering the Blind Spot, except this one was a—
“Force field,” Sal said.
Marcie scanned the transparent blue ceiling. “Dammit.”
“Put your hands up,” the other officer called. “You’re trapped.”
The dome turned into a grid from where her eyes layered a blueprint over it. Every force field had a weak spot.
A one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn, so fast it made her dizzy, Marcie ran straight at the officers.
The pair of them continued to shoot. At least she now saw the attack coming. The speed of a bullet had nothing on her eyes and microprocessor combined. They fed the information to her legs.
The officers’ guns swayed as they tried to track her movement. They stopped shooting. Why waste the bullets? When Marcie leapt at the officer closest to her, he screamed and covered his head with his arms. The perfect launch pad, she kicked off from him, the punch of her legs slamming the cop to the ground. This time she left a dent.
Focused on the shimmering spot, Marcie waited until a moment before impact. She pulled into a ball, and the entire blue dome shattered with a loud crash! The digitised structure broke like glass. The pixels vanished into thin air before hitting the ground.
Several more bullets slammed into the tower Marcie clung to, missing her as she scrambled onto the roof. Once clear, she flipped the officers the bird and ran into the night.
Scala City behind her—police sirens wailing in the distance—Marcie entered the Blind Spot dressed in her normal clothes but with an anonymity mask on. She always stashed her glasses and flying suit in a safe spot close by. The Blind Spot dealt a harsh punishment to anyone bringing in surveillance of any kind. Even if you were the boss’ daughter.
Two large security guards stood at the entranceway. Like many of the Blind Spot’s residents, they wore their cybernetic enhancements on show, adding bulk to their already large frames. They were born for the job and then built for the job. A pair of anthropomorphic tanks, they watched Marcie. Maybe they recognised her, and maybe they didn’t. Better for them if they didn’t question it; otherwise someone would have to admit to letting Wrench’s daughter out in the first place.
Marcie’s heart sank like it always did when she returned home. Garish neon advertised the businesses she passed. Many shopfronts showed their building’s legacy, the establishments before them clear in the old signage or symbols left on the street. It highlighted the transient nature of commerce in a place like this. Many shops sprang up and closed down. The businesses that endured tended to sell sex or drugs. Lurid and hedonistic, they were classless. By comparison, every shop, restaurant, or bar in Scala City looked like it had been specifically built for the current tenants. Put together by architects and interior designers with panache and artistic integrity.
But at least you were free in the Blind Spot. The residents wore their enhancements with pride. Mechanical arms, glowing eyes, half-exposed metal skulls. Scala citizens populated the streets too, some of them wearing anonymity masks, others trusting the surveillance-free environment. Marcie picked up her pace as she moved through the rat run of alleyways.
When she closed in on the red-light district, the amount of Blind Spot citizens halved, while the numbers from Scala City trebled. The place packed with drug users and johns, they were all here for sin and debauchery before they put their suits on the next day and rejoined the hustle and bustle. Their particular penchant was easy enough to identify. The addicts usually kept their anonymity masks on. They were often so blasted when they left, they were better off hiding their identities now so they didn’t forget their masks later. While Scala City allowed its residents to enter the Blind Spot, they weren’t averse to using that against anyone stupid enough to be caught on camera entering or leaving the place.
One of the largest houses in the Blind Spot, Marcie approached her home. Although, sh
e only saw a prison. Since her mum had died in there, her overprotective dad had kept her locked up as if incarcerating her would somehow resurrect his wife.
While Marcie’s eyes fed her microprocessor the calculations she needed, her legs kept her moving forward. Without autopilot, she wouldn’t have ever returned home. And soon she wouldn’t. Scala City was far from perfect, but even the wastelands would be a step up from her current existence. She leapt at the first ledge, bounced off the next one, and landed on the roof.
Marcie slid the loose tiles free and slipped into the dark attic space before covering it over again. The reek of dust tickled her nose as she made her way to the loft hatch. The guards downstairs were none the wiser of her nighttime antics. And even if they were, they wouldn’t admit it for the same reason as those at the Blind Spot’s entrance. The fact that she’d gotten out only highlighted their incompetence.
The stealth of an assassin, Marcie lifted the loft hatch and touched down on the landing. She moved on tiptoes to her bedroom door, slipped inside, and heaved a weary sigh. But when she flicked the light on, she lost her breath in a gasp.
His large frame swamped her small chair. His knees were folded to his chest. The gold bolts on his pneumatic legs glistened in her bedroom light. Nine in each leg. Eighteen in total. She used to count them as a kid. Not a flashy man, but he had to express his dominance over the Blind Spot in some way. A show of wealth, other rulers would have gone much further. His half-exposed face, one of his eyes red like hers, but all the mechanics around it also on show. Parts of him remained organic, like his stubbled chin and his furrowed brow. He released a hard sigh. “Frankie and I know you go out in the city and take Sal with you. We’ve known all along and have instructed our top hacker to make sure your broadcasts get through.”
“But if you’ve known—?”
“Why didn’t we say something?”
“Yeah.”
“Because you needed it. You need to see the city, and god knows Sal deserves some freedom in his life. You’ve never tried to bring your glasses in here, and you’ve never been caught on camera. You’ve protected your anonymity. As you know—”
The Blind Spot Page 2