The Blind Spot

by Michael Robertson

  The news reporter finally got her words out. “The consequences could be that everyone has their identities wiped. Every bit of digital data could be scrambled. We need you to collate as much information as possible about yourself. You need to take photographs of all your personal details and then print them out.” The trauma of what they were about to face seemed to have sent her into autopilot. “We have several pop-up copy shops around the city that will be manned with volunteers, and hopefully as much paper and ink as we need. You have three days to gather all your information in hard copies. Consider anything still digital after that time gone forever.”

  “Like that’s enough time,” Nick said. “There isn’t enough paper or ink in the whole of Scala City for that.”

  The news reporter turned red, paused for a few seconds, and cleared her throat. She wiped her hair away from her forehead. They all knew what this meant. The government had set them an impossible task. They could wipe everyone clean and start again. Maybe the reporter had been chosen because they thought she could deliver the news with more conviction than anyone else. And if they were right, then god help everyone. “Most of the banks have special home screens,” she finally said. “If your printout is of that, we will honour the credits in your account. This isn’t a decision we’ve come to lightly, but one we’ve had to make. We’re sorry, and please remember to support your fellow citizens while we get through this challenging time.”

  “Great,” Nick said, “they’re expecting fucking riots too.”

  The screen turned black a second after the reporter ran from her seat. It returned Nick to the darkness of his kitchen. They were about to go to war. A war he could possibly prevent, or at least delay if the powers that be even wanted that. But to do so would surely render him obsolete. And why would he sacrifice himself for a city that didn’t give a shit about him? Where was the city when he needed help?

  Nick turned his back on the blank screen and walked out of the kitchen.

  Jane had said it would be the loft hatch, but he had easier options in his house. Nick tied the rope around the banister from his landing. Plenty of space to fall. He stood up on the same breakfast stool he sat at every day and slipped the noose around his neck. Should he call Karla or Bruce, or both of them? Make them listen to what they’d done? Maybe they’d just show him how little they cared. How little everyone cared. He wouldn’t be missed.

  Nick gulped against the grip of the thick and coarse rope against his skin. If he didn’t do it now, he’d never do it.

  Still crying, Nick pulled in a deep and stuttered breath.

  He kicked the stool away. Crack! It hit the floor and the rope snapped taut.

  Chapter 59

  The cloaking device made everything a hell of a lot easier. No power suit or anonymity mask needed to get in and out of the Blind Spot. How long would it be before they were commonplace? Would her dad ever let this kind of tech out? Did he already have one himself? A shudder snaked through her. To think he might have been keeping tabs on her all this time without her knowing. She’d have to check with the Eye at some point.

  The usual mazy path through the johns and slack-jaws. Marcie passed close to a few, some of them flinching from her proximity. Freezing outside and with the snow falling heavier than before, the streets were about as quiet as they’d get. It made passing through the place a hell of a lot easier.

  More people at the Blind Spot’s exit than anywhere else, Marcie twisted and turned to move through the tighter press. A lot of citizens were returning home. More than usual. They must have heard about the lunatic in the brothel. With tensions as high as they were, they were bound to have the jitters.

  When Marcie reached the wheelie bin, she dropped down and pulled the tray from beneath it. Her flying suit and glasses waited for her. Once changed, her night vision engaged, she confirmed the alley to be clear and checked in with the Eye. Poor Sal, if he knew she went out without him … well, he’d understand one day. “Will the suit and glasses remain cloaked?”

  “Yep. Anything touching you or on your person will be hidden.”

  Marcie gasped and raised her fists. An obsolete stood just a few metres away. It stared in her direction, deep black bags beneath its sunken eyes. Hard to tell its gender, it watched her, as vacant as all the others she’d come across. Its mouth mimicked the O on its forehead.

  As if to confirm what she thought, the Eye said, “But it won’t cloak your voice.”

  Raw power coiled in her legs, Marcie crouched down before leaping towards the building on her right. The scuff of her feet kicked off the building’s wall about fifteen metres from the ground, launching her across to the opposite side. She gained height with each kick until she reached the roof and pulled herself up.

  The city always took her breath away, the lights, the uniformity of the cars organised by the traffic mainframe, the illuminated walkways that ran a webbing between structures. Restaurants, bars, and homes—they all added their own dash of white light. And all of it now coated in a layer of snow.

  “Beautiful, ain’t it?” the Eye said.

  “You’re telling me.”

  “Not without its flaws though.”

  “Go on.”

  “The Wellbeing app for one.”

  Marcie shrugged. “Yeah, that’s messed up. What a strange invention. It really speaks to humanity’s narcissism.”

  “And the work. Everyone works in an office, doing pointless jobs in pointless industries just to keep them busy. They should automate everything and let people express themselves. But if you encourage people to be free, they become much harder to control.”

  “It’s not that bad.”

  “I’ve met a lot of unhappy people from the city, driven mad by the Wellbeing app and the tedious treadmill of their lives. And you know living here won’t bring your mum back.”

  The skin tightened at the back of Marcie’s neck and she spoke in a low growl. “What do you know about my mum?”

  “That an obsolete lost the plot and grabbed a knife. That she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. That your dad thought he was doing the right thing locking you away to protect you, but instead he made you hate where you lived. That wherever you go, the pain you have in your heart will go with you. At least you’re someone in the Blind Spot. You’ll be a nobody here. Less than that the moment they see your red eyes.”

  A few seconds passed where Marcie watched the regimented dance of the cars in the skylanes. She shook her head to break away from her thoughts. She’d come here for a reason. She turned her back on the view, sprinted across the rooftop, and leapt for the closest hover car.

  The Eye called into her earpiece, “You’re going the wrong way.”

  “I just need to see it.” The boom of her foot connected with the roof of a car. She’d left it before the driver had time to react.

  A narrow miss between her and a man on a scooter, he must have felt it because he wobbled at her passing. Thankfully, the mainframe kept him both on course and upright.

  Boom. Marcie hit the bonnet of a small car and spread her limbs like a starfish, catching the air in her wings.

  Marcie grabbed the lip of the Apollo Tower’s roof.

  “You need to hurry up,” the Eye said. “At eleven, Wrench will be seeing you at home on his tracker, and if you’re not there …”

  Marcie leaned out and stared at the ground over one thousand metres below. Twisted metal and boarded-over windows, but other than that, the mess from the explosion had been tidied. Blue police tape cordoned off the area. The forensics team must still be working on it. “What time is it?” she said.

  “Ten twenty. You’ve seen the tower; now you need to get away from there.”

  “Chill out. I have plenty of time.”

  “Better to have too much than not enough.”

  “A bird in the hand’s worth two in the bush.”

  “Huh?” the Eye said.

  “I just wanted to throw another shit cliché back at you. Just chil
l out, yeah? You’re in my world now. Anyway, I can move through this city quicker than anyone.”

  A tapping came through to Marcie as if the Eye played an impatient beat on his desk.

  “So you’re ignoring me now?”

  “The more I engage with you, the longer it takes you to get moving. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re trying to save the Blind Spot here. Beyond tonight, I’m not sure we’ll have many more opportunities.”

  “I’ve got this, don’t—” She thought she had more roof than she did. So when she stepped to the side, the resistance offered by solid footing never came. She had no time to react before she fell.

  “Tell me you know what you’re doing?” the Eye said, his voice quickened.

  Marcie fell into a death spiral, the air pressure keeping her arms pinned to her sides. Red warning circles appeared and vanished as she left them behind. Multiple threats, she couldn’t fix on a single one.

  “This isn’t funny. Stop larking around.”

  “I’m not.” A blur of lights. The ground getting closer.

  On her next spin, Marcie forced out her right arm. It stopped her spiralling. Her jaw clamped against her struggle, she dragged out the left. The wind filled her wings and catapulted her back into the sky.

  “My god, that was close, kid.”

  The wind dragged on Marcie’s hair as she nodded. “Too close.” In hindsight she had no chance. In a contest between her and a speeding hover bus, there would only be one winner. The large vehicle turned her into a fly on a windscreen.

  Marcie came to on the ground. Sure, she ached, but she could move everything. Her cybernetics must have absorbed most of the impact. When she tried to sit up, a strong hand shoved her in the chest, forcing her back to the ground.

  A policewoman leaned over her, genderless save for her voice. “Not so fast. You think a terrorist can come here and walk away unquestioned? We’ve been looking for you, sweetheart.”

  “You can see me?”

  “You think you’re an apparition or something? I can see you, and I can see those evil red eyes of yours too. We don’t like cyborgs here. Especially not terrorist cyborgs.”

  Her blue glasses lay a few metres to her right. “Shit. Look, I don’t know who you think I am.”

  “I don’t think, love, I know. You’re the little scumbag responsible for the terrorist attacks. You and that man with the golden bolts.”

  The cloaking device had fallen close to her glasses, the small button innocuous enough for the police to have missed it. Several officers stood shoulder to shoulder with their backs to her. They formed a blockade between her and the rapidly gathering crowd. A CCTV drone hovered above them. “I’m not who you think I am.”

  “Oh? Who do we think you are?”

  “I’ve seen the footage of that girl running through the city. The one who got chased by the police.”

  “Why do you look like her, then?”

  “Honestly?”

  “For what it’s worth from you.”

  “I saw her suit and thought it looked cool.”

  “With how you just crashed into that bus, I can believe it. The girl who got chased the other night had much more grace than you. But you ain’t getting away without being questioned. And you’re still a filthy cyborg in our city. I don’t know if you’re clued into the news or not, but your lot ain’t welcome here. Especially in this current climate.”

  The cybernetics rippled through Marcie’s arms and legs. They were good to go despite the collision.

  Someone in the crowd yelled louder than the others. The drone and policewoman spun around. Marcie brought her legs up, pressed them into the policewoman’s chest, and pumped them like a piston. She launched her into the air.

  The policewoman turned into a mass of flailing limbs as she flew backwards over the line of her fellow officers. She hit the drone and landed in the gathered crowd.

  As the other officers turned on her, Marcie rolled over, scooped up her glasses and the cloaking device, and pressed the small button. Click.

  A quick jump to the side as several officers piled in on the spot where she’d just been. Marcie stepped on the back of one of them and launched herself away. As she flew through the air, the drone only just returning to the sky, she slipped her glasses on.

  “What the fuck was that?” the Eye said.

  “Look, I’m all right now, so leave it, yeah?”

  “And you still want to live here?”

  “You really want to bring that up now?”

  At her destination, both Marcie’s pride and body ached. The sirens and flashing lights well behind her, she stood on the roof of a house in a dark and quiet residential part of the city. Her and the Eye hadn’t spoken on the way over. “Sorry,” she finally said. “I was an idiot.”

  “Yes, you were. But it’s okay. We’re all idiots sometimes, and you’re only sixteen. Maybe you needed a run-in with the police.”

  “Why? To teach me a lesson?”

  “It’s not what you’re thinking. It’s important for you to see what you’ll be if you move there.”

  “Why are you so invested in me staying in the Blind Spot?”

  “I think it’s the best place for you.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Clearly. But at least try to look at that place objectively. Sure, it’s beautiful and clean, but it’s also oppressive and will never accept someone like you. Now hurry up, you have ten minutes left before your tracking device shows you at home. I could do without being found out.”

  One leap and Marcie landed on the wall next to the large gates. All of the lights in the kitchen were off. Maybe he’d gone out. Although where? The guy had no friends and now no girlfriend. But the hall lights were on. “There he is.”

  “What’s he doing?”

  The stool hit the floor.

  The fat man fell.

  The rope took his weight.

  “Shit!”

  Chapter 60

  Nick winced from the sting of the rope burns across the front of his neck, the fresh wound tacky to touch. His throat ached and his eyes watered, blurring his vision.

  A cold wind rushed in through a smashed window. His front door slammed shut. He managed to speak in no more than a gasp. “Karla?”

  But whoever had just closed the door had done it on their way out rather than in. Had Karla come home to find him in this way? But why would she have smashed the window? She had keys.

  The damp patch across the front of his trousers turned cold in the strong wind, snow swirling into his kitchen. His vision cleared. The rope hadn’t snapped. A kitchen knife lay on the floor from where someone had cut him down. The noose had also been removed from his neck.

  A small orange light flashed in the corner of the dark room. The silent alarm. How would he explain this to the police?

  On his feet, Nick found an envelope on the breakfast bar. Handwriting he didn’t recognise, it said, Nick, take this memory stick to the police. When they see it, it will clear your name and prevent a war. The letter inside explains everything. Please read it. Everything will make sense afterwards, I promise. And please hurry. The fate of the city and the Blind Spot rests on this information being delivered to the authorities by someone from the city. They’d never accept it from me. Signed: Your friend from the Blind Spot.

  After he’d read the note several times, Nick shook his head. His friend from the Blind Spot? The one he got the Pandora hack from? The police would turn him into an obsolete if they found the hack on his phone.

  Blue flashing lights touched down in the driveway.

  By the time Nick reached the front door, two officers were waiting for him. “Is everything okay, sir?” one of them said.

  “Yes, it’s fine.”

  “How did that window get smashed?”

  “A branch fell from a tree.”

  Although both officers looked up at the window and the distinct lack of trees, neither of them challenged him. “And everything’s okay now?” the
first one said.

  “Yeah, it’s fine.”

  “Very good. Have a pleasant evening, sir. We’ll cancel the alarm call.”

  After closing the door, Nick returned to the breakfast bar and the letter. Whatever it said, it wouldn’t change his mind. No way could he go to the police.

  Chapter 61

  “What are you doing?” the Eye said. “You can’t take those glasses into the Blind Spot.”

  “Can you hide them from the other hackers?”

  “Yes, but I won’t. I’m already up to my neck in this. What are you trying to do to me?”

  Quieter than Marcie had ever seen it in the Blind Spot, but there were still too many people around. She might be cloaked by the device, but even slack-jaws would notice her if she kept up the conversation.

  The Eye tutted. “I’ve covered you, okay.”

  “Thank you.” Marcie then turned left instead of right.

  “Where are you going now?”

  After a group of johns in anonymity masks passed her, Marcie said, “I need to do this.”

  “I thought you were heading home? It’s eleven fifteen already. You should have been back at eleven. Wrench’s tracker will have you placed there.” After a second, the Eye said, “Come on, Marcie, answer me. If you don’t go home, it will reveal the hack I’ve put on your tag. That’ll open a can of worms none of us will be able to close. Have you forgotten about Horace?”

  “Are you kidding? Of course I haven’t.” The streets leading to Sal’s house were abandoned. A more residential part of the Blind Spot, the punters had no place here. “There’s a strange atmosphere in the Blind Spot tonight. It’s really quiet.”

  “Never mind the atmosphere, get home.”

  “You know something, don’t you?”

  “Go home and I’ll tell you.”