The Blind Spot

by Michael Robertson

  A mess of slack-jaws and johns roamed the streets like the undead. The alleyways grew tighter, pushing the windows closer. The things inside banged and shouted at him. Did they want to kill him or fuck him?

  The synthetic women looked extra human. Curves like cartoon characters, they could undoubtedly please him in every way imaginable, and many he hadn’t even thought about. But they were filthy machines.

  Nick quickened his pace to the galloping basslines of overlapping music. Slack dens, brothels, and engineers in case he wanted a little nip, tuck, or enhance. For sure, people in Scala City had done it, but they kept it hidden. If anyone found out, your prospects as a Scala citizen were reduced to nothing.

  A sign hung above the next street. HACKERS’ ALLEY.

  His last chance to change his mind. But he had to know what people said about him. He had to. With Adam gone, he needed something more. To know his life had some value. Even if that meant finding out how he annoyed people. It could help him improve himself. Adapt so more people liked him.

  Only one hacker installed the Pandora hack. They called him the Eye.

  The white-haired man sat at the back of the workshop. Nick cleared his throat.

  Blood red eyes with black bags beneath them, his skin as pale as candle wax. The man looked like the stuff of nightmares. “Uh …”

  “Can I help you?” the Eye said.

  “I-I want to have the Pandora hack installed.”

  The hacker twitched his head from side to side as if he had voices talking to him. “You sure?”

  No, he wasn’t. He was very fucking far from sure. But he wanted to know. He nodded.

  “Okay.” When the Eye stood up, Nick stepped back. “It’s okay,” the Eye said. “I won’t bite.”

  His heart beating in his throat, Nick nodded and resisted the urge to run. Despite the Eye’s words, he still checked for fangs.

  “Now,” the hacker said, moving closer still, “having the hack fitted is the easy part. Having it reversed … well, that’s a different matter entirely. I’m going to show you a contract—”

  “I’m not signing anything. I don’t want proof of this going back to the city.”

  “You don’t need to sign anything, and the city will never hear of this. But you need to read about reversing the hack, and I need to witness that you’ve read it.” Fingers as pasty as the rest of him, the Eye pointed to the section in the contract that explained how to get the Pandora hack reversed.

  As Nick read, he tugged on his collar, sweat lifting beneath it. He read it a second time to be sure.

  “You still want it?” the Eye said.

  Nick gulped again.

  Chapter 46

  Early Tuesday morning, the sun beaming down, but no matter how bright it shone, it had nothing on the Blind Spot’s garish neon. Regardless of the time of day, the place remained open for business. The street thrummed with the deep bassline grooves coming from the slack dens.

  Another Sunday had passed where Marcie hadn’t visited Sal. The longer the nonsense in the city went on, the less she could abide Frankie. Too much time around him and she’d start throwing accusations without evidence. Besides, the more time she spent with Sal, the more likely she’d be to tell him everything.

  There had been no meetings at the top table since Marcie had been chased through the city by the police. They took the weekends off unless something urgent came up, and there had been no call to gather yesterday. Did they even know about the chase? When she’d been seen out the front of the cinema, the footage became public almost immediately. A weekend on edge waiting for a call that never came had disrupted her sleep. It left her aching in the parts of her body that still felt fatigue.

  Becky, Pierre’s sister, danced in a window on the right, her eyes locked on Marcie as if she saw through her anonymity mask. She grabbed her cybernetically enhanced vagina and licked her puffy neon-blue lips. All the while, images of a dead Horace slammed through Marcie’s mind. The touch of his cold flesh in the dark basement.

  Marcie collided with a slack-jaw, and the tall man made a sound somewhere between a yell and a cry. Not anger, he clearly needed help. He’d sleep it off; he shouldn’t have taken the stuff in the first place.

  To get to the Eye’s workshop, Marcie had to pass Horace’s crossroads. Someone else had taken his place. What would Pierre do when he found out the truth?

  The music, the light, and the people behind her, Marcie sped up as she closed in on her destination.

  “How did I know it would be you at this time of day?” The Eye didn’t turn around, his attention on a small screen in front of him.

  “How did you know it was me?” Marcie said. “I might have been someone from the city wanting the Pandora hack. Maybe then you’d tell me what the price is to have it reversed.”

  “Maybe I didn’t know it was you. After all, I didn’t say your name, and you just revealed yourself.”

  Marcie heard the smile in his voice as she switched off her anonymity mask. “We’re alone?”

  “Yep.”

  “I didn’t think I wanted to know, but what did you do with Horace?”

  “I slapped an anonymity mask on him with an adhesive so strong it can stop a plane taking off. I put sensors beneath it, so if someone even attempts to remove the mask, I’ll know. I dressed him in a suit so he looks like a city worker, and paid for him to be dragged out through the tunnel into the wastelands. He’s gone for good. Anyone who goes out there will be far more concerned about staying alive than dealing with an unidentifiable dead body.” He finally turned his blood red stare on her and said, “Look what I uncovered.”

  The small monitor he’d been watching strobed blue with police lights. “It looks like every cop in the city chased you. That got back to Daddy yet?”

  She shook her head. “Not yet, and I’m guessing with it being three days since it happened, it might not either.”

  “I don’t understand why they’ve been sitting on this footage. No officers died, which certainly helps, but rightly or wrongly, this adds weight to the argument that the Blind Spot are terrorists. If they want a reason to start this war, you’ve given it to them.”

  “Maybe that’s why they’re holding onto it.”

  “They don’t want to declare war yet?”

  “Maybe. Which means they’re giving us more time. Is everything in place? I worry if we wait too much longer, this footage will make it back to Dad.”

  “Or Sal will tell Frankie.”

  “Exactly. Now we have a shot at proving to the city we have nothing to do with the terror attacks. But we can’t waste any more time.”

  “You think we can do it?”

  “Have you put everything in place?”

  “Just about.”

  “Then we have to try.”

  “In daylight?”

  “In a power suit and glasses, I’m just another citizen going about my day.”

  The Eye picked up a jam jar. Half filled with water, the rose Marcie had brought back from the city stood in it. She’d dropped it to him before going home on Friday. Even though a couple of the petals had already fallen off, he still smiled at it. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but why did you give this rose to me and not lover boy?”

  The mention of Sal stabbed through her. “I wanted to give it to him, but I felt awkward. As you know, things are somewhat strained between us at the moment, even if he doesn’t realise it. At some point I’m going to have to call out the rat.”

  “So I’m second choice?”

  “I wanted to say thank you. I had a rose. I had to come and see you after being in the city on Friday. It seemed like an appropriate gift.”

  A wide smile, the Eye nodded. “I like you, Marcie Hugo. I’m with you every step of the way. Let’s see if we can prevent this ridiculous war. I’ll pull the strings that need to be pulled. You’re right, everything’s set up for this part of the plan, so why wait? What have we got to lose, eh?”

  Just as Marcie turned t
o walk out of his workshop, the Eye said, “Oh, by the way, I knew it was you because most people are scared of me. Like I’m some kind of monster in a cave. You strolled straight in like you knew me.”

  “Are you trying to tell me something?”

  “Firstly, thank you. But more importantly, we’re relying on your stealth. Move lightly, little bird.”

  Marcie nodded. “See you soon.”

  “I hope so.”

  Despite the anxiety of the past few days, Marcie had found someone in the Eye she could trust. Someone whom she could tell everything to without worrying about that information getting out. She’d found a new friend. And more importantly, an ally who could help her end this war.

  Chapter 47

  Zero lifts. None. It had been years since Nick had woken up to no lifts whatsoever. Maybe more of a man would have taken it better, but as he sat at his breakfast bar, he slumped on the hard stool. The large white kitchen had never felt so empty. No Karla, no Bruce, no Adam, no lifts …

  It didn’t matter how many times he rubbed his eyes, they kept weeping, burning with his grief. A swig of his bitter coffee, the liquid scalded his mouth, but he swallowed it anyway.

  His phone on the counter, the Wellbeing app open. A small black box sat in the bottom corner of the screen. To press it would tell him for sure if people had forgotten him.

  Nick reached across, his fat finger hovering over the box. Dryness tugged on his throat. Just one press. Surely someone had said something about him in the past day.

  The television came to life. The bright glow of the large screen dominated the far wall. The glare burned his already sore eyes and he blinked repeatedly. The news reporter, a stern woman in a suit, stared out at him, her features set. “There’s been another terrorist attack in the city.”

  The reporter spoke over the footage of a blown-out building, debris sprayed across the street. “A restaurant this time. The police chased a runner through the building the other day, but the explosion happened this morning. Did she plant something on her way through?”

  Footage of the police chase showed a girl dressed in what looked like a flight suit jumping at the large window in the restaurant, feet first, and smashing through it. “This happened on Friday night,” the reporter said. “The window got repaired on Saturday morning.”

  Why hadn’t they shown it before now? The footage returned to that morning. The window had been shattered again. “Fortunately, no one was hurt because it happened just a few minutes ago, which is out of business hours for the restaurant. We’re not really sure what the terrorists are even trying to do. Why attack an empty restaurant?”

  The footage returned to the studio, the camera farther away than before. A man sat beside the female anchor. He wore a suit, had a bald head and a hooked nose. Words appeared under his name, but Nick focused on the man instead. Some doctor, politician, or some other high-ranking person. Avian, he pressed the tips of his fingers on each hand together and said, “We can only assume the Blind Spot want to attack the places we derive joy from. First the Wellbeing app because they know how much pleasure we get from it. Then the cinema; again, another place that makes us happy.”

  “And now a restaurant,” the reporter finished for him.

  “Right. The question is, where next?”

  The lady leaned forward. “That’s if the government doesn’t sort them out before that happens?”

  A snort of a laugh, the man shook his head. “They haven’t got the stones to sort it out. They’re too scared of the Blind Spot. They claim they don’t know who’s responsible, that it’s not conclusive enough, but they’re about the only people who don’t know. They give them too much power, and if we let it go on, the city will be overrun with cyborgs, prostitutes, and drug addicts.” The man punched his left palm with his right fist. “We need to stop it now!”

  On any other day, the news report would have held Nick’s attention, but as the people on the television discussed the attack, he returned to the small black box. His hand shook as he reached for the button. He had to know if anyone had spoken about him.

  Just before he pressed it, the whoop, whoop of a police siren sounded outside. Flashing blue lights landed in his driveway.

  They’d found out about the hack! And with the terrorist attack, they were clearly coming to question him. They’d make him an obsolete. Why did he do it? How could he be such a fool?

  Chapter 48

  Bright enough to justify Marcie wearing her reflective glasses in the city. She felt more at home here than in the Blind Spot, and nothing about sitting at the top table had changed her mind like her dad might have hoped it would. Her MO remained the same: uncover the rat, help the city see the attacks have nothing to do with the Blind Spot, and then take her dad up on his offer to live in the pristine metropolis. Sal or not, she needed to get out.

  A power suit—the city’s anonymity mask—she moved through the people like she belonged. And she did. And she would.

  “The good thing about pretending to be like them,” Marcie said, “is I can walk around talking to myself and no one bats an eyelid. As long as I, wonderful, shout the occasional nice word, kind, then no one will look at me. I’m just like all the other Wellbeing lunatics.”

  “But you’re a sixteen-year-old dressed in a power suit.”

  “They don’t know that.” Daylight bounced off the tall buildings. They wore their erect majesty with glistening pride. Vehicles zipped through the skylanes, the mainframe running an impossible puzzle with lightning-quick efficiency. “It’s all about the walk. Move like your twenty-five, beautiful, and people will believe it.” And with that, she swung her hips from side to side. Becky had left more of an impression on her than she’d originally thought.

  “What are you trying to do, pick up a john?”

  “How do you know how I’m walking? Wonderful.”

  “The camera in your glasses is making me seasick.”

  Marcie toned it down a little. “You’re sure you’re the only one connected to me right now?”

  “Yep, Sal won’t even realise you’re online. And if any of the other hackers are detecting this signal, it’ll look like it’s running back to him like it always does.”

  “They’ll turn a blind eye?”

  “They have been for years. As you know, the same rules don’t apply to Wrench’s and Frankie’s kids.”

  Marcie stopped when she rounded the next bend and red rings sprang up in her vision.

  “What’s that?” the Eye said.

  She moved towards the crowd. A CCTV drone hovered above them. The place might have looked different in daylight, but not so different she didn’t recognise it. The restaurant the police had chased her through. “Shit.”

  “Another attack?” the Eye said.

  “And it looks recent.” A line of police officers formed a human barricade between the crowd and the crime scene. The lights on their helmets emitted a pulsing blue flash. At the back of the crowd, Marcie stood on her tiptoes, her legs firing to keep her stable. The building had been blown up from the inside. The window she’d shattered had been blown out, although they’d clearly already fixed it once. Also, all the other windows along the same side had burst, the street a glistening mess. She dropped flatfooted again and elbowed her way to the front.

  “What are you doing?”

  “It looks like a fresh scene. I want to see if someone’s tried to fit us up like last time by leaving something.” The people around her continued to throw lifts into the air. The platitudes stood in stark contrast to the severity of the scene. At least it allowed her to talk too.

  “Like a bolt?”

  “Exactly. Magnificent.”

  “I’m not going to get used to that.”

  “Me neither.”

  “And you think looking for a bolt in broad daylight is a good idea? There’s a CCTV drone up there.”

  “It’s facing the other way.”

  “You’re not worried it will recognise you?”


  “It won’t. The only, great, other one that’s seen me was too far away.”

  “I think this is too risky.”

  As she finally made it to the front, Marcie said, “What else would you have, great, me do?”

  “Come up with a better plan. You know someone’s planting the bolts already, you know you need to find the rat, so why do you need to remove them if they’re there? What are more bolts going to do for you unless you have evidence of who’s planted them? The city already blame us; it’s too late to prevent that. They might have kept the chase with you low key, but there’s no covering this up. The last thing you want to do is stick your head above the crowd. Especially when first and foremost we need to prove to the city this has nothing to do with the Blind Spot. We need to stop the war. They don’t care who the rat is, and we already have the proof we need to end this nonsense. You’re letting your personal feelings get in the way.”

  Marcie remained at the front, the drone still facing away from her, a pulsing red ring surrounding it.

  “Your dad’s already told you to stop going out in the city. Don’t give him more ammunition by getting caught on camera again.”

  An area behind the line of police had been cordoned off. “This is the first time I’ve come out without Sal in my ear, you know. Beautiful.”

  “I know.”

  “I prefer it with him.”

  “Because he’s afraid to tell you the truth in case you cut him off?”

  “Low blow.” Marcie ground her jaw. Before she could say anything else, a police siren rang out from somewhere nearby.

  “You’re doing no good here,” the Eye said. “Any grace period the city gave us from what you did on Friday night has gone. You need to act fast and smart if you’re going to make a difference. You’ve said it yourself, you’re the only one who can fix this mess now. Also, that’s your cue. It wasn’t easy setting this up. You’d best get over there before we miss our chance.”