Synthetica Page 20

  “Anais.”

  She heard Xander's quiet voice and looked up. He was examining something on a small rickety table by the black box. Anais picked her way through the debris to see what he had found.

  On the table were three photographs. They weren't on electronic screens like normal photos were, instead, they were in black wooden frames. Gingerly, Anais picked one up and tapped the front of it experimentally but the photograph didn't change or move. They were they only things in the entire room that looked as though they were cleaned regularly. The glass gleamed, clear of any dust or fingerprints. The colours in the photographs stood out vividly amongst the squalor of the room. Anais carefully replaced the one she was holding and examined them all.

  One of the pictures at the back showed a young woman with long magenta coloured hair, sitting on a blanket in the middle of a park. Her beauty was breathtaking by anyone's standards; her vivid green eyes sparkled and her cherry red lips were curved into a broad smile, as though she'd been laughing the instant the photo had been taken.

  The second photo showed twin girls with waist-length chestnut brown hair and green eyes, sitting side by side on a homemade swing. Anais realised it was the same swing that she'd seen from the yard outside. They were wearing identical pale blue dresses and were grinning at the camera.

  The last frame at the front of the table showed a photo of the woman again, this time dressed in a long midnight blue dress. Judging from the glitzy background, she was at some kind of formal party. She was standing next to a young man with wavy brown hair; his arm was around her waist, pulling her close. With a jolt, Anais realised it was a young Clay Winterbourne. She looked closer at the picture. He was wearing a smart black suit, and a tiny silver 'C' was pinned to the front of his jacket. There was a twinge in Anais' chest. He looked so happy as he gazed at the woman, as though she was the only other person in the world.

  “Having fun?” came a sarcastic voice. A slamming noise jolted Anais back to her senses. She whipped round rather guiltily. Xander also jumped, looking shamefaced, as though they'd been caught doing something they shouldn't.

  Clay was glowering at her and Anais hastily dropped her eyes to the coffee table, where he'd placed two glasses of water. Xander picked up his drink and muttered his thanks, his cheeks still rather pink.

  Anais picked up the other glass, taking a grateful sip. She was aware of Clay's eyes still on her.

  “Let me make this quick,” Clay said shortly. “'I don't know why you think I can help you, but I'm listening, and you better have a damn good case for me. You have exactly two minutes before I go get my shotgun, and this time we'll see whether the old girl still works, shall we?”

  Anais and Xander stared at him in shock. Clay raised his own glass to his lips and took a large swig of amber coloured liquid. He sat down in a sagging armchair, gesturing with his glass.

  “Go,” he said.

  “But, surely you're not serious?” Xander asked in disbelief. In answer, Clay looked pointedly at an old-fashioned circular clock that hung on the wall above the sofa.

  Anais stepped in. She wasn't sure how much contact Clay had with the city, so she decided she might as well start at the beginning.

  “Civitas is launching a new program that mean you can download and learn new subjects instantly,” Anais explained. “These programs, they call them SLPs. They're produced on picochips and you can use this special device to download the information onto your own ID chip.”

  Clay looked supremely unimpressed by her explanation. She hurried on.

  “But there's someone out there who's created their own copy of the SLP program, only, in their version, you don't just learn about whatever it is you want learn about. It's infected with some kind of malware. Whoever it is that's made these programs, we think they're using them to control people and making them commit murders. Once you've committed the crime, the virus is activated, or maybe the person who made these SLPs initiates it, and you die.”

  Clay looked vaguely interested by her last point.

  “So, these 'SLPs'...how do they kill you?” he asked, his voice gruff.

  “It's like an illness,” Xander supplied. “You start coughing up blood and having convulsions. Basically, your ID chip malfunctions and it messes with your brain. Or, that's the theory we have right now.”

  Clay remained quiet, looking slightly disturbed by Xander's explanation.

  “The murders that have happened so far, they're all linked,” Anais told him. “Every victim has been a rival of Civitas. Two of them were even thinking of setting up their technology company. And so far, every murderer has died too.”

  Clay blinked and focused on her, his blue eyes sharp.

  “This all sounds lovely, but I have a feeling you're holding out on me darlin',” Clay said, his blue eyes boring into Anais. “How'd you find out about those programs? How'd you know every murderer died the same way?”

  Anais hesitated.

  “My friend bought one,” she admitted. “And now she's dead. But before D - Dalla died, I saw one of the murders taking place. The man collapsed right in front of me, just like Dalla did. And one of my other friends from school bought one of the counterfeit SLPs too, and he died in the exact same way. It's too much of a coincidence that the two people I know who bought these programs died, just like the murderer did. I know it's a lot to ask, but I'm asking you to help us.” Anais kept her eyes level on Clay, refusing to be the first to look away.

  “And what exactly is it that you want me to do?” Clay asked, glancing at them both.

  “You can get us into Civitas,” Xander said. “You've hacked into their systems before. We need your help to either find out if the SLP program files are missing or if they've been tampered with. Or, if this is Civitas' work, we'll need to locate the malicious program and destroy it, if there is one,” he added, with a sideways look at Anais.

  Clay sniffed.

  “No.”

  For a second, Anais didn't believe what she'd just heard.

  “No?” she repeated in disbelief. “But – why?”

  Clay drained the rest of the whiskey from his glass and slammed it down onto the coffee table. He stood up swiftly and began pacing back and forth.

  “Did you really think after everything those bastards did to me, I'd risk going back there again?” he growled. “I swore I would never set foot in that place again. I wouldn't even go into the damn city if I could help it, but unfortunately the Food Distribution Network refuses to come out this far.”

  He stopped pacing suddenly and stared out of the dusty window towards the wheat fields. His hands jittered nervously.

  “They killed her,” he said suddenly, his back to them. “They murdered my wife.”

  Anais didn't know what to say. She glanced at Xander helplessly.

  “I know what you're thinking,” Clay said, his voice quiet. “I know what they've told you. Crazy ol' Clay – the one who went mad and killed his whole family in some kinda sick protest. Let me ask you something – if you disagreed with a new kind of technology, would you murder your family over it?”

  He finally turned back to face them, waiting for them to answer. Xander shook his head.

  “No,” Anais whispered. “I wouldn't.”

  “Exactly,” Clay growled. “Course you wouldn't. Who would? And yet, everyone seems happy to believe that I'm capable of something like that.”

  “But,” Anais said cautiously. “You did break into Civitas. You tried to erase their plans for the ID chips...”

  Clay's eyes swivelled to her.

  “I'll not deny that,” he said finally. “It ain't something I'm proud of. But...you're young. You wouldn't understand.”

  “Try us,” Anais said, but there was no defiance behind her words.

  “Alrig
ht,” Clay grunted. Slowly, he sat back down in the armchair. Anais and Xander sat down gingerly on the sofa, Anais cringing inwardly at sitting on the dirty bedlinen.

  “I never liked working for Civitas,” Clay started. “But...writing codes, creating programs, designing new tech – it's something I was damn good at, even if I do say so myself. So I stayed. I never had any real problem with them – they were arrogant and they didn't like anyone trying to muscle in on their ground - but otherwise, it was good money. It's where I met Magda.” Clay's face softened for a moment as his eyes flicked towards the photographs on the table before he continued.

  “I worked for them for years. Every piece of tech you kids love to use – your HV sets, your tablets, those little things in your eye – I helped design all of it. And then one day the head of my department comes to me and says 'Clay, we need your help. We want you to design a chip that has almost limitless memory capacity but that's small enough to fit behind a human ear.' I asked why and he told me the government wanted a new way to trace people. He said it would allow us to finally be 'free'. We could find out everything about a person, just by reading their ID chip. It would put an end to criminals on the run, dramatically reduce crime rates – we'd be creating a safer world.”

  Clay's face darkened.

  “It was all a load of horseshit. I knew, as soon as he told me about them, it was just another way for the government, the country, the whole bloody world, to keep tabs on innocent people. So I refused and they fired me. I tried to protest, tried make them see that humans aren't meant to be treated like machines, but they wouldn't listen. I got frustrated. That's when they evicted me from the building. I told them I'd never become one of their mindless drones, that I wouldn't condemn my family to becoming their slaves.”

  Clay was becoming more and more agitated, his fingers drumming against his knee as he spoke.

  “But we're not slaves,” Xander said, sounding puzzled. “We're still free to do what we want. We can choose whatever job we like, go anywhere in the world we want to.”

  “Our ID chips let our parents know that we're safe,” Anais chimed in. “We don't get mugged because we don't carry cash. If there's an accident, the emergency services know about it in an instant. Just because we have ID chips doesn't make us any less human.”

  Clay merely looked at them sadly.

  “You've been brought up with those chips, you don't know any different. How can you when all you've ever been told is how fantastic Civitas is, how it's done wonders for our society. You don't know how unnatural all...this...is.”

  He gestured to Anais' hair. She flushed.

  “This kind of tech has been around long before you were born,” she said defiantly, pulling a strand of her hair. “You've been brought up with it too. Besides, it doesn't matter what we look like, we're still free to choose our own lives.”

  “Are you?” Clay's eyes seemed to bore into her. “Let me ask you something – you work at the picochip factory, right?”

  “Yes,” Anais said, but a cold feeling was beginning to trickle down her spine.

  “I'd bet my right arm that that ain't the career you would've chosen for yourself. A bright young thing like you, stuck in that place? Don't make no sense. But I'd also bet that the reason you're stuck in that factory is down to that thing right there.” He pointed to Anais' ear. “There's something on that goddamn chip that made those bigots on the council think that you'd be suited for a job in the factory, rather than – I don't know – whatever the hell it is you'd rather be doing instead. It ain't a way of making sure you're safe, it's another goddamn way of controlling you.”

  Anais couldn't think of a reply. Clay gave a short, sharp laugh.

  “But what does a crazy ol' man like me know? You might be right in the end, girl, but from what I know of Civitas and their technology, sounds to me like there's a pretty thin line between freedom and the illusion of freedom – and Civitas knows exactly how to exploit that.”

  The room fell silent. Anais was at a loss over what to say. It was as though Clay was speaking the thoughts that had been floating around in her own head, thoughts that she'd always been too scared to put a voice to.

  “So what happened after you left the company?” Xander's voice broke the silence.

  “Well, the news got it half right,” Clay sighed. “I did break into Civitas and I tried to destroy their prototypes, but I got caught before I could access the files. So I decided to try and infiltrate their systems from home instead. I was damn close to doing it too, but they must've noticed my attack on their server. Next thing I know, two men in black came round and told me Civitas knew what I was up to and they were here to put a stop to it. I laughed in their faces but – I – I didn't think -” Clay's eyes had gone misty and although he was staring straight at them, it was as though he couldn't see the room anymore.

  “They shot them,” he whispered. “They shot them right here, in this room.”

  Anais felt sick. She looked at Clay in horror.

  “You were framed,” she said, her mouth dry. Clay nodded. “But...why? Why bother?”

  “They wanted to make sure I was completely discredited,” Clay said bitterly. “They wanted to make sure that even if I did speak out about them or their technology again, no one would believe me. Well, they did damn good job of that at least.”

  “But you were never charged,” Anais said. “If they wanted to discredit you so badly, why didn't they make sure you went to prison? Or receive the death sentence?”

  Clay gave her a twisted smile.

  “Oh they didn't need to make sure the charges were followed through. They just needed to drag my name through the mud. I'm not gonna lie, after the trial, I did try to get into their offices again; but by that point the ID chips were almost ready to go. Everyone thought I was just a crazy ol' man and there was nothing else I could do.”

  “So you were chipped too? In the end?” Xander asked.

  In answer, Clay turned his head to the left, so they could see the side of his neck. There, behind his right ear, was a mass of white scar tissue. Anais couldn't help gasping.

  “What happened?” she breathed, unable to take her eyes off the ugly lines that criss-crossed their way down Clay's neck.

  “I'll let you what happened – they'd put one in, and I'd take it straight back out again,” Clay growled. “I've lost count of how many of those damn things I have had to cut out.”

  “Is that why you're not on the system?” Anais asked. “We couldn't locate your ID number to see where you lived.”

  Clay gave her a sad, almost pitying, look.

  “No, I've got one alright. They made a special one just for me. I won't show up on whatever it is you were using to find me – Civitas are happy to let people think I've moved away or that I'm dead. But with this one...they can check up on me whenever they like.”

  Clay leant forward and bowed his head, parting his thin hair. There, right in the centre of his skull, was a pink scar – the unmistakable signs of someone implanting something small straight into his brain.

  Fourteen

  There was no sound inside the room.

  Outside, the faint droning of a tiny agricultural hovercraft could be heard as it tended to the crops nearby. The blue tarpaulin that covered the window in the next room flapped lazily in the wind.

  Anais was still trying to process everything Clay had told them. She felt repulsed, but she also had a strange sense of satisfaction. She knew there was something fishy about Civitas and Clay's story proved it. She couldn't help turning to Xander.

  “You see?” she said triumphantly. “I told you Civitas would be involved in this. If they're capable of doing something like that, then they're more than capable of committing murder again.”

  Xander didn't reply, but the disturbed l
ook on his face made it obvious that he no longer knew what to think.

  Anais leant forward towards Clay.

  “So – will you help us now?”

  He gave her a look.

  “Didn't you hear me, girl? I'm not setting foot in that place again,” he growled.

  Anais felt her hackles rising.

  “My name is Anais,” she said through clenched teeth. “And didn't you say you tried to access the system remotely? Can't you try that again now?”

  “Even I wanted to, I couldn't,” Clay told her. “They've tightened up their security a lot since then. The peacock can tell you that.” He nodded towards Xander, who narrowed his eyes. “Well, isn't that right, boy?”

  “Yes,” Xander admitted. “You can't access any of Civitas' files or systems unless you're on site. I believe we have you to thank for that particular security measure.”

  Clay ignored his jibe.

  “Whatever. Look, Annie, I'm sorry about your friends, really I am, but I can't help you,” Clay said in a final tone.

  “Can't, or won't?” retorted Xander.

  For a long moment, Clay stared at him. Abruptly he stood up.

  “Get out,” Clay's voice was shaking with fury. His knuckles turned white as he clenched his fists by his side.

  Anais and Xander scrambled to their feet. Anais wanted to say something, anything, to change Clay's mind, but he looked so furious that she thought better of it. She followed Xander to the door, but just as she was about to step through it, she stopped. She turned back to face to Clay, who was standing still as stone, watching them through narrowed eyes. Anais refused to be daunted.