Synthetica Read online

  Marcus' canary yellow hair made him unmistakable.

  He was breathless.

  He wiped a tear away from his eye as his shoulders continued to shake. It was a long time before he had recovered enough from his fit of laughter to pay attention to what was playing out on the old TV screen in front of him.

  A teenage boy with ridiculous yellow hair was being led away by the police, blood quite literally on his hands. If he'd wanted something to really drive the panic in the city up a notch, he couldn't have picked a better situation. Perhaps from now on all his murders should take place in the daytime – it created much more of a buzz that way than staying in the shadows of the night.

  What a shame the boy was the last one to buy an SLP from Denzel, when he was finally getting the hang of this.

  Well, that was a lie. There was one other SLP online, but that vessel's statistics wasn't looking particularly promising. Some people couldn't handle drugs. Others couldn't handle alcohol. This one apparently couldn't handle illegal software being downloaded into her brain. He barely gave that one's vitals a cursory glance on his computer screen. The information on the SLP had been wiped, as per usual, but the chip had been infected before she could carry out any useful tasks. She wouldn't last the night.

  He turned his attention back to the TV, enjoying the spectacle playing out on the screen. Who needed films, when one had this kind of power?

  Nine

  Anais raced towards the magnet train station, her heart palpitating from fear and adrenaline.

  Her RetCom had already informed her that there was a fifteen minute wait for an auto-cab. Waiting wasn't an option, and so both Anais and Xander had set off for the nearest maglev stop, the orange line on Anais' RetCom showing her the journey to the police station. Xander ran with her, dodging in and out of the workers on their lunch break and the holidaymakers who were gawking at the city sights.

  They just managed to squeeze through the doors of a train before it departed, earning them disapproving looks from the other passengers but Anais didn't care. She glanced edgily up at the computerized map that ran above the train windows, informing them of their next stop and the train's final destination.

  “Anais,” Xander said in a low voice as the train began to move smoothly away and the other passengers began to lose interest in them.

  “Mm?” Anais didn't take her eyes off the map, as she counted down how many stops they had left.

  “How are we going to get to Marcus? And what are you going to do if you do get to see him?”

  Anais finally looked at him. Xander's eyes were dark as he gazed her questioningly.

  “I don't know,” she admitted. “But we have to try. I don't know what happened, but Marcus never would've murdered anyone. We have to find out what's going on.”

  “And you think the police will let you see him?” Xander asked, sounding rather sceptical. Anais felt a flash of annoyance.

  “Maybe not,” she said. “But I've got to try.”

  They passed the rest of the journey in silence – Xander staring at the screen at the other end of the compartment that kept replaying the footage of Marcus being arrested, while Anais did her best to ignore it and concentrate on the map instead. After a tense ten minutes, the train finally rolled to a stop.

  “Hammond Station,” came the cool announcement, and Anais and Xander slipped through the doors as soon as they began to open. Anais squeezed through a group of tourists that were just about to get on the train and ran across the platform. She jumped the last few steps onto pavement and took off in the direction of the police station, Xander hot on her heels. Anais paused for a moment as she saw the throng of people making their way behind the police station, where the hovercraft landing pad was. She veered right and joined them.

  Anais rounded the corner and stopped short in dismay. News crews, along with curious members of the public, were packed tightly around the police station's landing pad, no doubt awaiting the arrival of the hovercraft that carried Marcus. The whole place was a hive of activity with impeccably groomed newsreaders talking feverishly into cameras, and people jostling for the best position to see the hovercraft when it arrived. The was no way they could even hope to battle their way through this crowd. There was a shout from one of the spectators and everyone looked up to see the black hovercraft gliding silently through the sky towards them. Terror clutched once again at Anais' heart as she watched the vehicle begin it's descent.

  Immediately, the mob began to push forward. The securi-bots that lined the edge of the launch pad were forced to pull closer together, so the horde couldn't force its way through any gaps.

  Anais and Xander joined the back of the crowd, as the hovercraft came in to land. There was a blast of warm air as the hover lowered itself to the ground and a pneumatic hiss as the door opened. It landed with a dull thud on the concrete, revealing the dark interior. The spectators began to shout and jeer as two securi-bots appeared from the hover's depths, holding Marcus tight between them. He'd lost his thick framed glasses, and his face was white as he stared around at the crowd with wide, uncomprehending eyes.

  “Why'd you do it?” yelled one newsreader wearing a smart, cherry red suit.

  “Wanted to be famous did you, son?” boomed a man with curly brown hair, holding out a microphone as far as he could, over the securi-bots' shoulders.

  “You're despicable!” screeched a woman, waving her fist in the air.

  “Scum!”

  “Murderer!”

  The hostile cries of the crowd echoed in Anais' ears as she pushed her way through the crush. Marcus looked terrified as the securi-bots began to march him towards the station, where several police officers were waiting to take him into custody. There was only so far Anais could get before the wall of people became too thick for her to push through anymore.

  “Marcus!” she cried, jumping up and down to get to his attention, but the crowd was too loud around her. “MARCUS!”

  Marcus finally turned his head, his arms pinned to his sides by the handcuffs that glowed blue around his wrists. He searched the crowd, looking for whoever had called his name as Anais waved her arms frantically in the air. But the crowd was too dense and he didn't see her. The look of wild desperation in his eyes cut Anais to the core as he looked out over the unforgiving crowd. The securi-bots handed him over to the police officers and he was led away to the sleek building, the news crews still fighting to get closer to him. Anais felt a hand on her arm.

  “Come on,” Xander leant down to Anais' ear so she could hear him. The crowd around them were still rowdy, their shouts beginning to echo off the buildings around them. “We have to get out of here.”

  Anais nodded and together they managed to squeeze their way back out of the crush of people. As soon as they pulled free of the crowd, Anais found it easier to breathe, although Marcus' scared, desperate face seemed to imprinted into her mind.

  Xander ran a hand through his hair.

  “What now?” He looked just as shaken as Anais felt.

  “Let's try the front entrance,” Anais said, trying to keep her voice steady. “We'll see what they say there. Maybe they can help us.”

  They walked away from what was rapidly becoming a riot. The shouts were getting louder now; their jeers and catcalls becoming more and more unpleasant. Anais glanced over her shoulder as they hurried away, just in time to see several of the securi-bots having to step forward to subdue the rowdier members of the crowd. It was only a matter of time before a fight broke out.

  “Why are they being like this?” Anais asked Xander, turning away from the sight. “Marcus didn't mean to hurt anyone. And it's not like all of these people knew the man he murdered.”

  “Maybe not,” Xander said, with an edgy glance back over his shoulder. “But think about it – this is the
third murder in a week, and Marcus is the only suspect unfortunate enough to be caught alive. These people, they want justice - they don't care whether or not Marcus is innocent. They just want to know something is being done to keep them safe.”

  Anais mused over the idea of Marcus being made into some kind of scapegoat as they made their way back round the building. Why? What was the point? Something still wasn't adding up in this whole mess she'd managed to find herself in, but Anais' brain was rapidly beginning to feel like cotton wool and she couldn't think straight.

  The main entrance to the police station was clear and they hurried through the glass doors. The reception area looked much the same as it had done the last time Anais had been unfortunate enough to visit, only this time, there were more people sitting on the plastic seats waiting to be seen. There was woman with a baby balanced on her hip talking into the self-service machine.

  “...register a second child,” the woman was saying. The machine was silent for a moment.

  “Please go to City Hall to complete your request. Please note that in addition to the Sibling Act payment, you will also be required to pay a fee of 100CRD for this service. Thank you for your time.”

  “Oh,” the woman was clearly flummoxed. “But I've already been to City Hall, and they sent me here...”

  The machine didn't reply, so the woman hoisted her baby higher up on her hip and stalked out of the station grumbling under her breath. Anais turned to Xander, wondering what they should do now, when a disembodied voice spoke.

  “Welcome. Please state the service you need, or look up the crime you wish to report alphabetically.”

  Xander nudged Anais and nodded towards the self-service station. The screen glowed gently, listing every letter of the alphabet alongside the Imperial City insignia.

  “What d'you reckon?” Xander asked Anais in a low voice. “Would it come under 'I' for 'innocent', or 'B' for 'this is bollocks?'”

  Anais managed to muster half a smile.

  “Please state the service you need, or look up the crime alphabetically,” the automated voice repeated.

  “Um, request to see prisoner?” Anais said, leaning close to the screen, shooting a quizzical look at Xander. He shrugged, not knowing how it worked either. The machine went quiet for a moment.

  “Please state the full name of the prisoner you wish to visit,” it said, and hope leapt in Anais' chest.

  “Marcus Smith,” she said quickly.

  “Access denied,” came the cool reply. “Please choose another service.”

  “What? No! I want to see Marcus Smith,” Anais said, her voice rising in her frustration. “Marcus Smith – erm, murder, no wait, what's the official term? Homicide.”

  “Anais,” Xander murmured, glancing around them. A few of the people sitting down had looked up at them in interest. But Anais, having not slept in more than twenty four hours and still filled with worry for her best friend, was close to snapping. She refused to believe that she was so close to seeing Marcus, the one person apart from Dalla who could tell her more about the SLPs, only to be thwarted by a machine.

  “Please state the service you require or -” the self-service station began.

  “I want to see a prisoner,” Anais said loudly, enunciating each word as clearly as she could. “Name: Marcus Smith.”

  “Access denied,” the machine repeated. “Please choose another service.”

  “Marcus, bloody, Smith,” Anais shouted at the machine. “He's just been brought in, you stupid, fucking -”

  Before she knew what she was doing, she brought her fist up and smashed it down onto the screen. There were shocked gasps and mutters from the people around them, and Xander immediately reached forward and grabbed her wrist to stop her from hitting it again. Pain shot through her hand as she stepped back, shocked by her own actions. She could see a spiderweb crack in the centre of the glass - she'd put more force behind the punch than she'd thought.

  “Anais, please,” Xander said in a low voice, looking around them, smiling and nodding at a pair of women who were looking at them curiously. “Let's just go.”

  Gently, he lifted up her hand to examine it. There was one long slash along the side of her fist, and several other smaller scratches hat were starting to bleed. She winced as he brushed a small piece of glass from one of the cuts.

  “I've got a medi-kit back at work if you don't want to go back to the hospital,” Xander said, releasing her hand. Anais nodded, gripping her right fist in her left hand, to stop the blood from dripping all over the floor.

  “Well, well, well, what have we here?”

  A sneering, cold voice came from behind them. Anais turned and just managed to stop herself from swearing out loud. Officer Nox was standing behind them, arms crossed and with an expression of supreme smugness on his arrogant, handsome face.

  “Miss Finch,” he said, in a deceptively polite voice. “What a pleasure to see you again.”

  “Officer,” Anais said, matching his tone. Officer Nox's eyes flicked to Xander, and then to the smashed screen. He tutted.

  “Oh dear, Miss Finch, what's this? Destruction of police property?”

  Anais smiled blithely at him.

  “I was simply fixing your machine for you. It didn't seem to want to process my command, so I thought I'd help out. It'll work much better now.”

  Officer Nox's eyes narrowed. He took a step towards them.

  “Is that so?” he said softly. The hairs on the back of Anais' neck stood up, as those silver eyes fixed on her. “You know Miss Finch, I find it extremely odd that you just happen to show up here the moment another murder suspect is brought in. All in this sick little charade together, are you?”

  His eyes flicked to Xander, who scowled at him.

  “I hope you've got a permit to question us, Officer, or I'm afraid we're going to have to leave,” Xander said tightly. He turned to Anais. “Let's go, Anais.”

  Officer Nox held up a hand.

  “Not so fast,” his cold eyes gleamed. “I want to know what happened to that rather expensive screen, and what you're doing here.”

  Anais knew Nox just wanted a rise out of her, that he was just looking for an excuse to arrest her again - but after being pushed to the edge of exhaustion, she simply didn't care any more.

  “The boy you brought in is innocent,” she said bluntly, staring Nox squarely in the face. “I'm telling you – Marcus didn't know what he was doing.”

  Nox didn't look impressed by her explanation.

  “Is that so? You seem to know an awful lot about these murders Miss Finch, for an innocent bystander.” The sneer in his voice was unmistakable.

  Anais snapped.

  “I'm not up to anything you stupid man, believe it or not I'm actually trying to help,” Anais shouted. Out of the corner of her eye she could see every other head in the room was swivelled in their direction, riveted by the action that was unfolding.

  Nox took another step towards her, a dangerous glint in his eye. Xander immediately stepped forward in front of Anais, shielding her from Nox's tense body. Both men eyed each other, their hands curled into fists by their sides. Anais didn't break her gaze with Nox over Xander's shoulder.

  “Officer Nox,” came a sharp voice from across the reception area. The tension broke as all three them looked up. Anais felt a wave of relief as Officer Hughes strode over to them, her black bob swinging. She stopped in front of them, hands on hips.

  “What's going on here?” Although her question was directed at Nox, her eyes swept over Xander and Anais, her eyes lingering for a moment on Anais.

  “I was just going to apprehend Miss Finch into custody,” Nox said smoothly.

  “What?!” Anais said, outraged. “What for?”

  “Oh let me see – vandalism, showing disrespect to a
police officer, being a suspect in an ongoing murder investigation...” Nox reeled off. Anais glared at him, hating him with a passion she'd never felt before. Her insides were cold, and she only noticed she was clenching her fists when a sharp pain shot throgh the hand she'd injured. She looked at Officer Hughes rather desperately, who merely raised an eyebrow.

  “That's quite an impressive list,” she said, and Nox threw a smug look at Anais. “However, seeing as how you clocked off duty fifteen minutes ago, I'm afraid none of these charges can be upheld.”

  It was Nox's turn to look furious.

  “But – but, look at that screen,” he pointed to the self-service station, which was still flickering and occasionally emitting bursts of static. “She did that! Her and her accomplice. Any witness in this room will tell you so!”

  He pointed to Anais and Xander. Officer Hughes ignored his outburst.

  “Officer Nox, I suggest you go home. That's an order from your commanding officer,” she said, a steely look in her eye. For one wild moment, Anais thought Nox was going to hit Hughes. Instead, he threw them all an extremely ugly look before turning on his heel and storming out of the station.

  Xander whistled.

  “That was close. Thank you,” he said, turning to Officer Hughes, who gave him a small nod.

  “Don't worry about him,” she said, jerking her head towards the door. “He's a bit wound up at the minute, we all are. But I have to say I am curious, Anais - what are you doing here?”

  “The boy you've just brought in, Marcus Smith, I have to speak to him,” Anais said in a rush. Now that Nox was out of the way, her earlier urgency to see Marcus returned. Officer Hughes looked surprised.

  “But – why?” she asked. Anais shook her head.

  “I need to ask him something. My friend, she's – she's sick, and I think he might be able to help her,” she invented wildly, the idea popping into her head for no apparent reason.