Synthetica Page 19

  “Did you get it?” Anais asked Xander urgently.

  In answer, the small envelope icon flashed in her vision and she opened it. There, in glowing text, was Clay's address. Anais felt almost giddy with relief. Without thinking, she reached up and kissed Xander's cheek, taking them both by surprise.

  “Let's get out of here,” Xander said, a small smile on his lips. He squeezed Anais' hand reassuringly as they walked quickly towards the maglev station. It was only when the Civitas building was out of sight that Anais realised what had made her feel so uncomfortable.

  Skye had called her 'Miss Finch', but she'd never told Skye her name.

  *

  The journey to the city limits was a long one. Usually the gentle motion of the train almost sent Anais to sleep, but today she stared straight out at the city rolling past, her mind buzzing with thoughts about Dalla, Marcus and Denzel. For the hundredth time, she wondered who the man was that had been in Denzel's flat. Given the nature of Denzel's death, it was more than likely that the man had known something about the SLPs. She could've kicked herself at the thought that they'd been so close to someone who might've been able to help them. Though, as Xander had pointed out when she told him this, if he'd murdered Denzel he probably would've killed them too. She felt sick to her stomach at the thought that the murderer had been so close to them, and they hadn't even realised.

  Xander touched her shoulder. Anais blinked, coming out of her reverie seeing that the carriage was now almost empty.

  “We're here,” he said, offering her his hand to help her up. She took it, feeling Xander's warm hand grip her own. He only let go as they stepped off the train into Old Kiln Road station.

  All around them, grey and white blocks of flats reached up towards the sky. Although the area was perfectly clean, there was something subtly different about the place. Anais supposed it was because she was so used to seeing the city skyline; here, the hi-rise buildings of downtown couldn't seen at all. The few people who were walking by were wearing the high-vis uniforms of recycling plant workers or navy council uniforms. Anais could sense the stares they were attracting; though whether it was because of their brightly coloured hair, or because of Xander's distinctive Civitas uniform, she couldn't say. Although no one looked particularly hostile, the hairs on the back of Anais' neck still stood up. She was acutely aware that she was in a part of the city that she'd never visited before and knew nothing about. There was no reason for anyone to be hostile towards them, and yet, that was the distinct feeling she got. She swallowed hard and avoided looking anyone in the eye.

  She called up her map function on her RetCom and brought up the journey to Clay's last known address. Wordlessly they both walked on, their heads bowed.

  Although it was barely midday, time seemed to have taken on a new dimension; the morning seemed as though it had stretched on forever and now it seemed to stand still as they walked through the city streets. Anais was too preoccupied with her own thoughts to strike up a conversation, but at some point Xander had reached out his hand and she had taken it.

  Now that they were actually on their way to see Clay Winterbourne, doubts were beginning to creep into her mind. Although Clay's notoriety was well known, she still called up all the different news stories she could find about him on her RetCom, desperate for some sign that she was doing the right thing. Most of them simply detailed his descent into madness and the gory murder of his family. She kept searching – one story told about his arrest, another about the large campaign group who'd tried to get him executed. Although the sentence for murder was death, Clay had got off on a technicality; despite being discovered by the bodies of his wife and children, the police couldn't find the murder weapon. There hadn't been enough evidence to charge him.

  She felt a tug on her hand, and she realised Xander had stopped walking.

  “Is this the right way?” he asked, and Anais looked up.

  They'd passed the last few blocks of flats and now they stood on the very edge of the city. Behind them, the sleek buildings cut out much of the sun and the occasional auto-cab could be heard humming; in front of them lay vast silent fields of golden wheat and corn. The sky was a brilliant blue and a warm breeze swirled around them. It seemed like the edge of the world.

  “It must be,” Anais replied. The orange line in her vision was pointing straight ahead.

  “There's nothing out here but farms,” Xander said.

  “We've come this far,” Anais said. “Let's keep going.”

  Although she didn't say it, the thought of leaving the city behind and stepping out into this new world seemed extraordinary to Anais. She wanted to get out of the oppressive shade of the buildings and step into the light, airy space beyond the city.

  The pavement beneath their feet gradually changed from tarmac, to concrete and finally to a small dirt track. Occasionally the road would branch off towards vast, low slung white buildings; the city's farms which housed the crops and animals they couldn't import. But the route in Anais' eyesight stayed resolutely straight and they followed it onwards, further into the golden sea around them.

  Anais could feel her dress sticking to her as sweat trickled down her back. Outside the shade of the buildings, the sun's heat was fierce. Beads of sweat were rolling down Xander's forehead, and Anais could feel the sweat dampening in her hair as they trudged on.

  After about half an hour, Xander stopped and wiped his brow.

  “How much further?” he panted.

  “I don't know,” Anais' RetCom had worked perfectly at the city limits; now however, it had highlighted an area two miles wide and had been informing her for the last ten minutes that she'd reached her destination. But there were no houses out here, and they'd past the last farm some time ago. They were surrounded by a sea of golden wheat, swaying gently in the breeze. The grey smudge of the city was just visible on the horizon. Occasionally, a small silver hover would dart out of the crops, scanning the area beneath it with a green light and spraying a fine cloud of water or pesticide as required, before flying off to the next section of the field.

  Anais tried reprogramming her RetCom, but it was no use. It kept telling her the same thing. Frustrated, she shut the map down and looked around.

  “We must be close,” she said, walking forward a few more steps and peering around. “My RetCom can't be that out of sync...”

  “Anais...”

  Anais ignored Xander's voice. She didn't want him to tell her the inevitable. They were so close, she just knew it. They had to be.

  And then she spotted what she was looking for – an even smaller dirt path leading off the one they were on.

  “There!” she cried, pointing to the path and hurrying towards it, not heeding Xander as he called after her.

  This track had two parallel lines running down it's length, the criss-crossing pattern repeating endlessly. Although she couldn't tell what could have caused them, Anais took it as a sign that the track had been used recently. They were on the right path. Excitement surged through her as she beckoned at Xander to follow her.

  They followed the path as it cut through one of the fields, tall stalks of wheat bearing down on them from both sides, before they finally emerged into a small clearing. In the middle of the space was the smallest, ramshackle house Anais had ever seen.

  The house was made out of wood – wood – but many of the planks were rotting and large chunks had fallen away from the roof. The sagging floorboards on the veranda looked as though they'd collapse the moment anyone set foot on it. One of the front windows had come out completely, and the resulting hole had been haphazardly covered with a sheet of blue plastic. It was a complete mess. Anais loved it.

  There were no stand-alone houses in the city. When the city had been built, it had been designed to be economical, and that mean
t cramming as many people as they could into what space they had. Although the city's blocks of flats were aesthetically pleasing and the communal gardens were well kept, it couldn't compare to this; an actual house surrounded by nothing but open space and clear sky.

  Anais and Xander stood, transfixed.

  “This is amazing,” Anais breathed. She glanced around, but couldn't see anything else beyond the fields of wheat. They were on an island in a sea of gold. “Do you think this is the only one?”

  She was slightly worried that they had come to the wrong place, or that there was some kind of settlement nearby and they had missed Clay's house completely.

  “Must be,” Xander said, still staring up at the house in awe. “If there were any more in this condition, surely they must've collapsed years ago. I'm surprised this one hasn't yet.”

  They stood for a moment longer, Anais drinking in every tiny detail that she could. Behind the house were two large barns that only looked in slightly better shape than the house did, their metal panels turning orange from the accumulation of years of rust. A gnarled tree stood in the small space between the house and the barns; an old piece of wood attached to two frayed pieces of rope swung forlornly from one of the branches.

  “Shall we go and see if there's anyone in?” Xander asked. Anais hesitated. Now that they were actually here, her doubts were beginning to come back full force. She was half tempted to turn around and run back to the city, where they could come up with a new plan that didn't involve an alleged madman. It was only the thought of Dalla and bringing the person responsible for her death to justice that kept Anais' feet where they were.

  They had barely taken two steps towards the house when a voice shouted from inside, causing them to stop still in shock.

  “You back again so soon? I told you, I need -”

  The voice stopped abruptly as a man burst onto the veranda, and saw the two teens standing frozen in his front yard.

  His eyes flicked between them as he took in their appearance, from their brightly coloured hair, to the bandage on Anais' right hand. During that long, drawn out moment while all three of them observed each other, Anais' eyes flicked over the man. His brown hair was peppered with grey, receding back from his forehead. It straggled down, almost reaching his shoulders. His beard was just as wild. He looked as though he had once been tall, but something – life - had beaten him down over the years and his shoulders were hunched over. His clothes were rumpled and stained. Clearly, this was not someone who used the services of a HelixPod to keep themselves young. But Anais recognised him from the news stories she'd read not hours earlier. He was unmistakably Clay Winterbourne.

  Clay's eyes stared at them mistrustfully. His gaze dropped to Xander's silver uniform and the little colour his face had drained away. Without a word, he turned on his heel and marched back indoors, slamming the door behind him.

  Anais and Xander looked at each other in bewilderment.

  “Well,” Xander started to say. “He looks -”

  The front door banged open and this time when Clay appeared, he was clutching a sleek, black shotgun. The barrel was pointing straight at Xander.

  Anais and Xander yelled in shock and stumbled hurriedly backwards, raising their hands hastily into the air.

  “I ain't done nothing wrong,” Clay shouted, advancing down the veranda steps towards them. “So you can just get the hell of my property, right now. Go on, go, NOW!”

  His voice rose to a roar, and the two of them took another step back. Anais felt a tickle across her neck as they reached the very edge of the wheat field. Her mind was blank with shock. Still Clay advanced on them, screaming, but the words were no longer making any sense. Come on, think, think, think, her mind screamed at her as Clay snapped the safety off. She glanced at the shotgun in Clay's hands and her eyes followed to where the barrel was pointing. Suddenly, it all clicked.

  She took a deep breath and stepped in front of Xander. Her palms were still shakily held up, and faced Clay as calmly as she could, despite her heart thumping in her chest. Clay stopped shouting. He didn't advance on them any further but he didn't lower his gun either.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Xander hissed in Anais' ear, trying to pull her back.

  “You're going to make things worse, be quiet,” Anais hissed back, not taking her eyes off Clay.

  She stood up a little straighter and looked Clay in the eye.

  “We're not from Civitas,” she said, as calmly and clearly as she could. She could see Clay's knuckles whiten as he gripped the gun harder. He stared at her, wild eyed, his tongue flicking out to lick his lips. She could see him struggling whether or not to believe her.

  He raised his gun slightly, using it to gesture at Xander.

  “He is. Why else would he be in that ridiculous peacock's uniform?”

  Anais felt Xander bristle, and she jumped in before he could speak.

  “Okay, he does work for Civitas, but,” she added quickly, seeing Clay raise the gun higher. “he's with security, entry level. He hasn't been there long.”

  Clay narrowed his eyes.

  “And you?” he asked gruffly.

  “I was a student at the Academy. I've just started working at the picochip factory,” Anais replied.

  Clay stared at them both a moment longer. Abruptly, he lowered his gun. Anais breathed a sigh of relief but before she could say anything else, Clay had turned on his heel and stomped back to the house.

  “Hey, wait -” Anais called, hurrying after him. But it was too late. Clay had gone back inside, slamming the door shut behind him. There was a silence.

  Anais exchanged a look with Xander before walking cautiously up to the house. They stopped at the veranda steps, looking up at the front door which had larges strips of paint peeling off it. Anais took a deep breath and called out.

  “We just wanted to talk to you.”

  There was no answer.

  “Hey,” she raised her voice. “I said -”

  “Well I don't want to talk to you,” came the muffled shout back. “Go away.”

  “Please,” Anais tried again. “It won't take long, we just -”

  “Go away.”

  “Just hear -”

  “Go away.”

  “But -”

  “Didn't you hear me? PISS OFF!” his voice roared.

  “For fuck's sake, we need your fucking help, alright!” Anais shouted back, her temper getting the better of her.

  There was another silence, and for one wild moment, Anais wondered if he was secretly taking aim at them through a window. But then the door creaked open and Clay's head appeared in the small gap, looking at them suspiciously.

  “My help?” he said, glaring at them. “How could I help you?”

  “Look,” Anais said, forcing her voice to be calm. “We know you used to work for Civitas -”

  Clay's eyes narrowed at the name, and Anais hurried on.

  “But something weird is going on in the city, and we – I – think Civitas may be involved somehow. We thought you might be able to help us, given that you've already hacked into the company's systems before.”

  Clay nodded towards Xander, mistrust evident in his eyes.

  “What about the peacock? He works for Civ – them. What use is he, if he works in security and can't access the system for you?”

  “I don't have access to all their files,” Xander said, not taking his eyes off Clay. “And even if I did have access, I wouldn't know what to look for anyway – the kind of information we need, it's not going to be easily accessible.”

  The two men glared at each other for a moment as Anais eyed them both nervously. Finally, Clay's head disappeared from view. Anais' shoulders sagged in disappointment. He didn't want to know. She threw a desperate look at Xander, w
ho looked just as gutted as she felt. There was no one who else they could turn to now.

  A voice floated through the still open door.

  “Are you going to stay out there all damn day, or are you coming in?”

  Thirteen

  The interior was just as bad as the outside.

  The whole place smelled of rotting wood, whiskey, tobacco and a slight smokey smell that took Anais a minute to identify. Fire smoke – Anais had only smelt it once or twice in life, when the trees in the park were deemed too old to be allowed to grow anymore and the Wardens lit huge bonfires just to get rid of the wood. Now, being inside a whole house made out of wood, made Anais wonder if they'd been missing a trick by burning the trees instead of using them.

  The house was just as unkempt as it's owner. Stained clothes and empty liquor bottles were strewn everywhere. Mouldy crusts, crumbs and other unidentifiable pieces of food littered what little floorspace there was left. It was clear from the muddle of dirty blankets on the threadbare sofa that Clay had also claimed this small living room as his bedroom. At the other end of the room, there was a small black box with smoke stained windows; powdery ash lay in heaps around it. Anais simply couldn't believe that anyone would choose to live in such squalor. Where was the alcove that the cleaning robot was housed in? And surely Clay would know that his FDU would recycle all of his uneaten food for him?

  Several other doors lead off the living room. She could hear Clay muttering to himself and clattering around through one of the open doorways, in what was presumably the kitchen. Anais stared around at the furniture in wonder. Everything was made out of wood or fabric. She touched the arm of the sofa, feeling the rough material beneath her fingers and marvelled at the texture. Everything in her flat was new, replaced every year during the city's annual 'Spring Cleaning' shopping event and most of her furniture was made out of plastic or metal, including the sofa. Even her bedsheets were made out of a special kind of polymer that resembled cloth, but was actually a kind of plastic. She bent down to examine a bottle at her feet. What was left of the liquid inside had turned to a sticky brown coating. Green and white mould dusted the inside. She wrinkled her nose as she nudged it away with her foot.