Synthetica (13 page)

It took a second for Anais to cotton on. The blood drained from
Denzel's face as he stared at them both furiously. Anais smiled at
him sweetly.

“
No,”
she said lightly. “Not fraud. He's in the Counterfeit Prevention
Unit – it's different from fraud because in the CPU he actually
has the power to track down and arrest individuals caught selling
known counterfeit products.”

“
You're
having me on,” Denzel said in a low, furious voice. But there was
a fearful light in his eye as he spoke, and Anais knew they had him
fooled.

“
Nope,”
Anais said breezily. “No joke.”

He gave them another nasty glare, and they stared back at him
innocently. He swallowed hard, and threw an edgy look at the doorway
he'd come through, as though he was expecting someone. Finally, he
spat on the ground.

“
Fine,”
he growled. “500 for one, if you take it right now with no more
fuss.”

“
Okay,”
Dalla said brightly and Anais smiled at Denzel, winning her another
glower.

Denzel opened the lid on the plastic box. Anais bent forward
curiously; inside were rows of tiny picochips, each one in
individual packaging, with a tiny label stating what subject the
chip was for.

“
These
here are from the standard subject list Civitas issued,” Denzel
was saying, pointing to the first few rows. “And these are
the...less orthodox ones.”

“
How
so?” Anais asked, as she and Dalla carefully flicked through the
tiny picochips. She carefully picked one up and had to squint to
read the label on the plastic coating. It read, HISTORY OF
AGRICULTURAL MACHINERY 1800 – 1950. Anais placed it back in the
box.

“
They're
the ones that Civitas will either release in the future, or that the
programmer made up,” Denzel said, glancing edgily behind him
again. “Look, have you chosen yet?”

“
So
you're not the one who designed these?” Anais asked, standing back
up straight to look at him, somewhat surprised. She had just assumed
that the person selling the counterfeit SLPs would be the same
person who made them. Denzel shook his head.

“
Do
I look like a grade A programmer to you? I just sell the damn
things. You've got ten seconds to make up your mind, or the deal's
off,” he said shortly.

Anais continued to look through the picochips, none of the titles
really appealing to her, until she flicked past one and stopped.
Slowly, she drew it out of the box, looking at the label, which
simply read ARCHITECTURE. She turned it slowly over in her palm,
hesitating.

This could be it. This could be her ticket out of the future
already drawn out for her. She wondered briefly if she could ask
Dalla to borrow the credits, or if she could try and haggle Denzel
down some more, surely it was worth a try...

Dalla plucked a picochip out of the box with relish.

“
This
one I think,” she said happily, disturbing Anais' train of
thought. Anais glanced at the writing on the label: FASHION DESIGN
AND MANUFACTURE. Denzel pulled a small handheld machine out from
under the counter.

“
Money
first, then the goods,” he said, gesturing at Dalla's ID chip.

Obediently, Dalla swept her hair up out of the way, and Denzel ran
the device over Dalla's chip. A small blue laser scanned over the
patch behind Dalla's ear. It was an old payment system – nowadays,
everything was done wirelessly. There was a bleep from the machine
and something flashed up on the tiny screen. Denzel pressed a few
buttons and the bleeping stopped.

Once he was satisfied that the money had gone through, Denzel put
the payment machine away and picked up a newer, shinier device. At
one end, there was something that looked suspiciously like a needle.
He grabbed the picochip from Dalla and ripped off the packaging,
inserting the chip into the small slot in the bottom of the machine.
Anais was only half paying attention, her mind still occupied by the
tiny picochip that was growing warm in her hand, as she clutched it
tightly. She could half see Denzel bending Dalla's head slightly to
the right, so he could access her ID chip better; but the other half
of her mind was conjuring images of her working at the Institute of
Architecture and finally bringing life to her stash of secret
drawings, gazing out over the city from her top floor office, where
she could draw and create buildings to her heart's content. She
blinked, and the vision of fame and glory faded, leaving her with
just the view of the small, gloomy shop, and Denzel's sly face
scrunched up in concentration as he held the needle end of the
device to Dalla's ID chip.

“
Hold
still,” he was saying to Dalla. “This is going to
feel...strange.”

Dalla nodded, her face tense. Denzel flicked a switch on the side of
the machine. A line of lights at the bottom of the machine started
to glow amber, changing to green as the program was downloaded onto
Dalla's ID chip. A small, violet spark that ran from the needle to
the point where it made contact with her skin, just over her chip.
Dalla gasped as the spark made contact with her skin.

“
What?
What is it?” Anais asked urgently, dropping the picochip she was
holding onto the counter and rushing to Dalla's side. “Dalla, are
you okay?”

Dalla shook her head, her eyes wide. A few more violet sparks were
flying out from the needle, though Dalla didn't seem to feel them as
they melted away onto her skin. Anais glanced desperately at Denzel.

“
Is
she ok? Is it working?”

Denzel grunted.

“
Almost
done,” he said, looking at the small machine. The last few amber
lights changed to green, and the machine stopped sparking.

“
Dalla,”
Anais said, grabbing her arm and shaking her slightly. “Dal, are
you okay?”

Dalla blinked and sighed, seeming to come to.

“
That
was...” she started to speak, but stopped, shaking her head.

“
What?”
Anais asked. “It was what?”

But Dalla simply shook her head again, a dreamy look coming over her
face. Anais looked round for Denzel, who was ejecting the used
picochip from the machine and throwing it into a bright yellow
recycling bin.

“
Is
this normal?” she demanded. Denzel gave Dalla an uninterested
glance.

“
Yeah,
she's fine. Just a bit of a shock to the system, is all.”

Anais turned her back on him, placing a hand on Dalla's forehead.
Her temperature seemed normal, and as her RetCom wasn't informing
her of any life-threatening symptoms, she'd have to take Denzel's
word for it.

“
Now,”
Denzel said, advancing on them. “You can get out now, but remember
our deal - not a word about this to anyone, you hear me?”

“
Yeah,
yeah,” Anais said distractedly, beginning to pull Dalla out of the
shop.

“
And
tell Marcus he owes me 600 by the end of the week,” Denzel called
after them, as Anais pushed the door open, dragging Dalla outside
with her. She waved back at Denzel to show she'd heard, before
pulling the door shut behind them.

The sun was still beating down hard. Anais had forgotten about the
heat of the day while they'd been inside – Denzel's shop may have
been gloomy and a bit depressing, but at least it had been cool. She
turned back to Dalla, who was standing there, still with a dreamy
look on her face.

“
Dalla,
seriously, you're starting to creep me out,” Anais said worriedly.
“What's wrong? How are you feeling?”

Dalla turned to her, beaming.

“
Oh
Anais, you have no idea!” she exclaimed. “To just instantly know
everything about whatever you want, it's...it's incredible. I can't
believe it – I had no idea about fashion design before and
now....”

Her voice drifted off as she stared into the distance with a smile
on her face. There was an uncomfortable metallic taste on Anais'
tongue, as she watched her friend smile happily, completely
oblivious to the dark feeling taking shape in Anais' heart.

“
Yes
well,” Anais said, rather sharply. “It's not like it's a new
concept is it? We've done it before with the first aid training that
came with our ID upgrades.”

Dalla merely shook her head.

“
No,
this is different somehow. I don't know how to describe it to you.”

“
Well
then don't bother,” Anais said shortly. “Come on, let's get out
of this heat.”

Dalla didn't seem to notice Anais' tone. Anais turned on her heel
and began to stalk away towards the nearest train station, Dalla
walking along beside her, her expression still dreamy, lost in the
revelations of her new-found knowledge.

Anais
stared moodily at the ground as she walked, well aware she was being
unreasonable, and yet not caring enough to do anything about it. On
the one hand, she felt bad for being so short with Dalla, but on the
other...once again Dalla seemed to have everything Anais could only
dream of, leaving Anais behind to struggle on as best she could. It
was over-dramatic, and she
knew
she was being over-dramatic, and yet – she couldn't help in that
moment but hate Dalla, just a tiny little bit. It was as though
there were two sides in her mind – the first half was genuinely
pleased for Dalla, and wanted to talk to her about what it was like
to download about SLP, and chat for hours over how wonderful it was
– but the other, darker half of her mind wanted to go home and
shut out the world.

“
Anais?”

Anais blinked, and came back to the present. She was completely
unaware of where they were, until Dalla's voice pulled her out of
her reverie. She looked up and saw they were standing outside the
station, groups of people wandering up and down the steps in front
of them, chatting and laughing merrily as they enjoyed their weekend
in the sun. Dalla seemed to be back to normal now, or at least, she
was hiding her excitement better. She was looking at Anais with a
worried look in her eye.

“
Are
you ok, babe? You've been a bit quiet,” Dalla said.

Anais took one look at her friend's concerned face and immediately
all her bad thoughts gave way to guilt.

“
Yeah,
fine, it's just the heat,” she said. But Dalla was giving her that
look that made Anais know that she didn't believe her. Dalla opened
her mouth to say something else, but Anais cut across her before she
could speak.

“
Look,
I think I'm just going to go home,” she said. “I'll talk to you
later.”

“
Oh,
but, I thought we were going to go shopping? There's this really
stylish dress I want to try for work tomorrow. I think you'd love it
too – we could get a matching pair!”

Anais took one look at Dalla's open, enthusiastic expression and
suddenly she couldn't stand to be in her company a moment longer.
She shook her head.

“
No
thanks, I've got some stuff to catch up on.”

“
Oh,”
Dalla's face fell slightly. “Well, okay. If you change your
mind...”

“
I'll
message you,” Anais said, sensing the awkward air between them.
She began to back away towards the steps. “Sorry Dal, I've got to
go. See you later.”

And with that, Anais turned and ran up the steps, fully aware of
Dalla's eyes burning into her back as she left.

Six

The train was packed.

Anais elbowed her way through the Saturday afternoon crowds, finally
managing to find a corner in the carriage that she could slink into.
She lent her head against the smooth metal behind her, trying not to
let the feelings of guilt sweep over her. She shouldn't have left
Dalla in the lurch like that, but equally, she couldn't stand to be
there a moment longer. She turned away from the dark thoughts that
were swirling on the edges of her mind, instead choosing to turn up
the music stored on her RetCom as high as she could without her
eardrums bursting. She called up Xander's name in her vision and
began to message him; small, innocuous messages, anything to take
her mind off the SLPs and Dalla's obvious delight.

By the time the train rolled into her stop, the carriage was a lot
quieter. She stepped off the train back into the warmth of the late
afternoon. She kept her head down as she walked briskly home,
unwilling to linger on the streets as the memory of yesterday reared
its ugly head, despite the fact that it was still daylight.

Anais let herself into the flat. She switched off the music that
was thumping through her head to be greeted with silence. She went
into the kitchen and opened the FDU, clicking her tongue as it
showed her a selection of high-protein snacks. She selected the most
edible looking protein bar and turned to face the empty room,
wondering what to do now. The thought of her parents being at work,
and knowing that this time tomorrow she'd be joining them, made her
already bad mood worse. She briefly considered calling Dalla to
apologise, but she was still too angry, though she was still
struggling to put her finger on what exactly she was so pissed off
about.

A
gentle glowing light on the surface of the table caught her eye. She
sat down and pressed the small glowing area, which expanded to show
one of the screens she'd been looking at earlier, one that she
hadn't shut down properly. She swiped her finger across the glass to
close it, but several of annoying newsfeeds popped up in its place,
bearing headlines such as
YOU
WON'T BELIEVE WHAT DNA COLOUR IS HOT RIGHT NOW!!!
and
HUNGRY?
WHY THE NEW FDU DESIGNS WILL LEAVE YOU WANTING MORE!!
Anais rolled eyes and went to shut the feeds down, making a mental
note to update the pop-up blocker application sometime, when she
paused. At the end of one of the feeds was another headline:
ALL
OVER FOR WIREX INDUSTRIES?
The news channel, RealityNewz, had a reputation for publishing
stories based on very thin (if any) evidence, but Anais' interest
was piqued nonetheless. She pressed on the link and the window
flashed up:

All over for WireX Industries?

The CEO of WireX Industries is due to meet with investors
tomorrow, in what insiders believe to be a last-ditch attempt to
save the company from the clutches of Civitas.

There has been speculation for a while amongst industry insiders
that Civitas is interested in purchasing WireX Industries, though
whether this is for genuine company growth, or to put a stop to the
rumours surrounding WireX's advanced tech designs, remains to be
seen.

WireX has enjoyed a number of success stories lately, with the
release of their newest range of Virtual Reality sets, said to use
the most advanced gaming software in the world; as well as launching
a specialised NIC system that can be embedded into the user's hand,
possibly throwing the future of traditional screen-viewing into
dispute.

However
following the murder of WireX employee, Donald Pearson, trust in the
company has been shaken with share prices dropping by half in just
one day. Unfounded rumours that the company should've been able to
stop the murder, along with WireX's latest research project going
disastrously wrong (see
here
for full report), may have contributed to this loss of confidence in
WireX's abilities. CEO, Theodore Mackleby, will have a hard job
persuading shareholders and investors alike that Pearson's murder
could not have been predicted. With MediTech also under fire for
their own investigation into their own employee's murder two days
ago, Civitas will no doubt be ready to jump in and 'save' WireX
Industries from falling apart.

Although Anais didn't seriously believe that Civitas wanted to buy
out WireX Industries, the story made her pause. The article
mentioned the murders, bringing back uncomfortable memories of the
previous night. Before the nausea and panic could take hold, Anais
began searching for the very thing she'd avoided that morning.
Within seconds the glass tabletop was displaying reams of news
stories and feeds about the two murders. Anais chose a couple of
articles at random and began to read, her mind buzzing.

In the first attack, both the murderer and victim had died at the
scene. In the second, as she knew from her unpleasant experience the
previous night, the murderer had died at the scene while the victim
had died soon after on the way to hospital. If Anais hadn't
accidentally raised the alarm, the man probably would've died in the
alley too. So far, the police had no leads on what could've caused
the two murderers to drop dead, but given the fact that they were
deceased, the police didn't seem overly concerned in finding out
what had happened to them.

Anais tapped her fingers on the table, thinking hard. What if the
RealityNewz story had a grain of truth in it? She began to search
once again for news of Civitas, only this time, she was looking for
any other articles on the reported Civitas takeover of WireX
Industries. She soon found what she was looking for – there were
several reports of Civitas' interest in the company though, so far,
WireX Industries had been adamant not to sell to them. But from what
Anais could see, if confidence in the company had been shaken by one
unfortunate murder, then WireX wouldn't be able to hold out much
longer. Take into account that the first murder victim had worked
for MediTech, then Civitas was in the best possible position for
both consumer confidence, and for getting the go ahead for a merger
with either one, if not both, of its rivals.

Anais'
mouth felt dry. Could it be possible? Both murders had happened
within such a short period, and at such a seemingly convenient time
for Civitas, that Anais couldn't see any other way around it.
What
if Civitas had engineered the whole horrible episode?

She felt sick even thinking about it, but the more she read, the
more the evidence seemed to point in that direction. There were far
too many articles for her to read at once, so in the end, she swiped
the screen completely clear, and called up a box on her RetCom
instead. She began to set up several news alerts, that would come
directly through to her RetCom. Thinking about how to phrase it, she
finally settled on alerts for 'Civitas, WireX, MediTech merger,'
'murder' and, before she could forget, she decided on a whim to set
one up for 'Clay Winterbourne' as well, just in case he happened to
be behind the break-in at Civitas.

But as she entered the last alert, a warning flashed up in her
vision:

YOU HAVE REACHED THE MAXIMUM
AMOUNT OF FREE NEWS ALERTS AVAILABLE. TO SET UP MORE ALERTS, PLEASE
UPGRADE YOUR RETCOM TO SOFTWARE VERSION CS4.506. ONLY 250 CRD!

Anais swore as she read the price.

“
Language,”
came a disapproving voice as Mrs Finch walked into the kitchen,
looking dishevelled from her shift at the factory.

“
Sorry
mum,” Anais said as she agreed to pay for the software update. A
progress bar appeared at the top of her eyesight to show that her
RetCom was being upgraded.

“
What's
wrong?” asked Mrs Finch as she pulled a steaming plate of chicken
and potatoes out of the FDU. Clearly, there was nothing wrong with
her biometrics.

“
Need
an upgrade on my RetCom,” Anais said absently, as the message icon
popped up. “Asked me to pay 250 credits for it.”

She opened the message, hopeful that it might be Dalla, but for the
first time she was disappointed to see Xander's name come up. Mrs
Finch sniffed.

“
I
don't understand why you young people are always upgrading something
or other. Goodness knows where you get the money. If I can get by
with basic functionality, I don't see why everyone else can't
either.”

Anais' lips twitched. It was the same speech her mum gave every time
Anais or her dad mentioned upgrading a piece of technology, or
bought something new. When Mr Finch had decided to buy a new HV set,
Mrs Finch had complained for half an hour about what a waste of
credits it was. It hadn't stopped her being the first one to record
all her favourite reality shows so she never missed an episode.

Anais stood up to go to her room, but her mum gestured at her to
sit back down.

“
Anais,”
her mum began in a hesitant voice. Anais' insides went cold. She
knew what was coming, that her dad had obviously spoken to her about
their conversation that morning. She didn't want to hear her mum
talk about how working at the picochip factory was no big deal. She
didn't want to think about it anymore than she had to.

“
Mum
-”

“
No,
please just listen to me sweetheart,” Mrs Finch said, reaching out
and taking Anais' hand. “I just wanted to say...I'm sorry if I've
given you the impression that I've ever been disappointed in you, or
that I'd ever be disappointed in the career you've been given.
You've always made me proud, and I know that working at the factory
isn't exactly what you had in mind -”

“
No,
you're right there,” Anais said before she could stop herself. Mrs
Finch squeezed her hand.

“
But
it's not that bad, honestly. I see people moving onwards and upwards
all the time! Why, just last week one young man, I can't remember
his name now, left because he'd been headhunted by a company that
makes parts for FDUs! Isn't that exciting?”

Anais looked into her mum's hopeful face and saw her left eyelid
twitch, as it always did whenever Mrs Finch told a white lie. She
squeezed her mum's hand back.

“
Thanks
mum,” she said quietly. “But it's fine. You don't have to try
and make me feel better.”

“
I'm
not -”

“
I
think I'm going to go to bed,” Anais said, standing up again
before her mum could say anything else. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

“
Oh,
are you sure, dear? Don't you want any dinner?” Mrs Finch tried to
push the plate of luke warm chicken over to her, but Anais shook her
head.

“
No
thanks, I'm not hungry.”

“
Well,
alright dear, I'll see you in the morning. You'll be coming to work
with me for your first shift!”

“
Great,”
Anais tried, and failed, to muster up some enthusiasm. “Night,
mum.”

She turned and walked down the hall to her room, unsure if she
wanted to cry or scream. As she shut the door behind her, she
remembered that Xander had sent her a message and she opened it to
find a request to met up the next night after work. She accepted
without looking at the details and threw herself down onto her bed,
despite the fact that it was barely past seven.

She lay for a while, simply staring up at the ceiling, thinking
about how this time yesterday she was caught up in a murder scene.
It seemed like forever. Eventually, her eyes closed and she fell
into a fitful sleep, dreaming of factories and bright picochips, and
other dark, formless objects that had no name.