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  There, not ten metres away, was a man standing over a limp heap on the ground. He had a brick in his hand and as Anais watched, he raised it above his head. The heap of clothes at his feet jerked and cried out.

  “Please,” a man's voice moaned. His voice was muffled and he was clearly trying to choke back the pain he was feeling. “Please – stop. I don't -”

  The man standing over him didn't even appear to hear his victim's pleas. He merely raised the brick higher and brought it heavily down through the air, so it smashed with a sickening wet crack over the injured man's head.

  “No! Stop!”

  The shrill shout was out, hanging in the air before Anais realised it was her voice. She began to run forward, but stopped dead in her tracks as the attacker turned and stared at her. For a long, frozen moment, neither of them moved. They remained fixed on each other, her pale green eyes locked onto his sickly yellow ones. Anais couldn't help shuddering slightly – it wasn't the odd colour of his eyes (plenty of people in the city had hideous coloured eyes, all in the name of fashion), it was the fact that he was clearly looking at her, and yet, not seeing her at all. The blankness of his gaze, as though he was staring straight through her, was unnerving. Anais' heart was in her throat. She wanted to move forward, to go to the aid of the man lying in a steadily spreading pool of blood, but she was afraid that if she moved first, the man would decide to attack her instead.

  As she stared at him, the man's eyes flickered and went dull. Silently, without any warning, he crumpled to the ground, the bloodied brick landing beside him with a dull thud. He started to convulse, his eyes bulging, his arms and body jerking horribly. Something dark dribbled out of the corner of his mouth, staining his chin. Anais watched, frozen in horror as he choked and gargled, before he finally went still, his eyes now staring blankly up at the star strewn sky. Without waiting to see if he would get back up, Anais ran forward and knelt beside the wounded man, who was now silent. She ran her gaze over his body, unwilling to touch him before she knew the extent of his injuries. Her RetCom pinpointed the parts of his body that were in serious danger – but she already knew without the red glow outlining his injuries, that it was his head that was in the worst condition. He'd already been hit quite a few times before she had found him, and she realised with a sinking feeling that the basic first aid knowledge that had come with her updated ID chip was of no use here.

  She turned to the body of the attacker, who was still staring up at the sky. He, too, looked beyond help. Blood dribbled from his mouth, staining his clothes. But there was something else, something dark on the side of his neck. It didn't look like blood, but before Anais could move to get a closer look, a scream ripped through the cool night air. She jumped and looked up to see a woman with white hair tied back in a severe ponytail and holding several glossy carrier bags, looking at her in horror. Anais glanced down and saw that the man's blood was now splattered on her shirt – her jeans were rapidly becoming wet from where the dark puddle was spreading out from the man's body. She jerked her head back up to look at the woman, who's eyes were popping. The woman dropped her bags on the floor, and began backing down the walkway, her wide eyes still fixed on the bloody scene in front of her.

  “W-wait,” Anais tried to call out, but her throat was suddenly dry, her heart beating far too fast. She could barely get the word out; but even as she spoke, the woman turned and fled back the way she had come.

  “Wait,” Anais cried, her voice stronger. “Come back! I need your help!”

  But it was too late. The woman had already gone. Anais looked round, panic rising in her gut, and for a brief, crazy moment she wondered if she should simply just run for it. The man in front of her gave a faint groan. She jumped, not expecting him to make a noise, and stared down at him, a fog descending over her brain as she panicked over what to do. It was a few seconds before she realised the man was still making a noise – he was trying to speak. She leant in closer, trying to catch his words, but his voice was now too faint, and he gave a nasty, gargling cough.

  “What?” Anais said, her heart pounding as she leant in even closer, her ear almost brushing his dry lips. But he fell silent again, and Anais sat back up, trying to breathe evenly. If she stayed, she'd be implicated in the crime. If she left, the man would surely die – but she couldn't call for the medics without it being traced back to her RetCom ID. She stared wildly round, praying for someone, anyone, to come and help her.

  Luckily, at that moment, any decision-making was taken right out of her hands. Sirens wailed, cutting through the night air; and within seconds a small white medi-cab hummed round the corner towards her. There was a blinding flash, and Anais shielded her eyes with her hand, looking up at the source of the brilliant white light. There a low noise – a sound almost less than sound itself - a deep vibration that made Anais cringe to hear it. A police hovercraft descended from the sky above.

  “Suspect,” boomed a loud automated voice, making the air shiver around her. “You are required to stand with your hands in the air. Drop your weapons. If you do not run, you will not be harmed. Suspect – you are required to stand -”

  Anais stood up shakily, feeling her jeans sticking uncomfortably to her. She was encased in the blindingly white searchlight, unable to see the scene unfolding around her as she slowly raised her hands into the air.

  The first batch of product had been delivered. His contact had assured him that they would sell out within days. Not that he'd dare to say anything else – he knew what was on the line if he should fail.

  Humming to himself, he checked and rechecked the program, making sure everything was in place for when that all-important call came through. All that remained now was to sit back and wait.

  He didn't have to wait very long.

  He answered the call on the first ring. He listened silently to the caller at the other end and then, without saying a word, he hung up and began to type commands furiously into the computer.

  The test had worked, as he knew it would. But now it was time to launch on a wider scale – it was time to 'see the bigger picture'. The first victim had already fallen. Now it was time to see how well the public reacted to the rest of his products.

  And within hours, he had his answer.

  Four

  The pain in her head was getting worse.

  Anais squinted against the harsh light, her heart and the thudding in her head tapping out the same staccato beat.

  She closed her eyes in an attempt to block out the light, to block out everything, and immediately her mind threw up the memory of the way the police had surveyed the bloody scene they'd found her in. They'd taken one look at her terrified face and at the two men lying at her feet, and immediately put her in handcuffs. The last thing she saw before the hovercraft door slid shut was of two medics lifting the injured man onto a stretcher that hovered serenely in the air, while another medic attended to the attacker, who's hands were dark with blood. The door had closed and Anais had been left in darkness, her breath seemingly unusually loud in the cramped space as she sat wedged between two securibots, one of whom had kept an uncomfortably tight grip on her upper arm. The sensation of flying over the city without being able to see anything had been discomfiting, and if she hadn't already wanted to throw up from nerves, the ride alone would've been enough to make her nauseous.

  Anais opened her eyes, hoping against hope that this would all turn out to be an exceptionally bad dream. Her mind felt as though a freezing fog had descended over it, making it impossible to think clearly. It was all she could do not start panicking and burst into tears. She had no idea what was going to happen to her now – the two securibots had led her from the hovercraft, marched her straight into the stark interview room and had left her there to panic. Her shouts hadn't been answered, though she had no doubt that there w
ere cameras hidden throughout the room watching her every move. She'd realised as soon as she'd been locked in, that they'd somehow disabled her RetCom – whenever she tried to call her parents or Xander or Dalla, an error message she'd never seen before flashed up: ERROR CODE 5: NO FUNCTIONALITY AVAILABLE.

  So she'd sank shakily into one of the hard plastic chairs, waiting for someone, anyone, to come along and either possibly charge her with murder - just the thought of it made her start to hyperventilate - or let her go, providing the man's injuries hadn't been as bad as they'd appeared. Anais clung to this tiny shred of hope, though deep down, she realised it was a lost cause.

  After what seemed like half the night had passed, the door in the corner of the room slid open. Anais jerked upright from where she'd been laying her head on the white plastic table. Two human police officers entered the room.

  “Please,” Anais blurted out, trying hard to keep the hysteria from her voice. “I didn't do it, I -”

  The female officer raised a hand to stop Anais from speaking. She had short black hair with dark purple highlights, and her eyes were a warm brown colour, flecked with silver. The male officer who accompanied her had dark green hair, swept over to one side. His features were arrogantly handsome, as though he was well aware of how good looking he was. His eyes were dark silver, sharp and cold.

  “Miss Finch,” the female officer said, as she sat down opposite Anais. The male officer took the seat next to her, placing a wafer thin glass screen on the table in front of him as he did so, his eyes never leaving Anais' face. “I'm Officer Hughes and this is Officer Nox.”

  “The man,” Anais said urgently, barely listening. “The man who was attacked. Where is he? Is he alive?”

  The two officers exchanged glances and Anais' heart sank.

  “I'm afraid he died on the way to hospital,” Officer Hughes said gently.

  “And – the other one?” Anais' voice was almost a whisper. Her throat was dry, and she was having difficulty swallowing.

  “He was pronounced dead at the scene.”

  Anais' vision swam and she closed her eyes. This was it. Her life was over. There was no one else to testify that she wasn't responsible for the death of both men – the position she'd been caught in was too compromising. The sentence for murder was life imprisonment – no excuses, and no hope of getting out early. Anyone who had been given a life sentence died in prison.

  “Anais,” Officer Hughes gentle voice brought her back to the present. Unwillingly, Anais opened her eyes once again. “We know you didn't do it. We've already matched the DNA on the murder weapon with the DNA of the second man.”

  A warm wave of relief flooded through Anais. She almost laughed out loud in sheer relief, but managed to stop herself just in time. She wasn't being charged. She was free.

  “Don't think you can just skip off home just yet, Miss Finch. We do still have a few questions for you - it's protocol,” Officer Now spoke up for the first time, his voice cutting. He was looking at her in way that made her realise that he didn't believe she was innocent, not for a second, and Anais wasn't entirely sure how to react. His eyes took in her blood soaked clothes, and his lip curled. Officer Hughes glanced at her partner.

  “Anais, would you be able to begin by telling us what you were doing earlier this evening?” Officer Hughes asked.

  Anais began explaining how she was walking home from the financial district, but she'd barely gotten to the part where her RetCom was showing her which way to go, before Officer Nox cut in.

  “Why were you walking home? Why didn't you take the train?”

  “It was rush hour. I wanted to walk instead,” Anais said, her voice stronger now that she knew she wasn't going to be charged with a crime she hadn't committed.

  “From downtown?” asked Officer Nox, sceptically. “You decided to walk all the way out to -” here, he looked down at the glass screen he'd placed on the table in front of him. “ - to Newhaven?”

  “Yes,” Anais said, with a touch of defiance. Officer Nox raised his eyebrows.

  “What were you doing in the financial district in the first place?”

  “I went on a tour around Civitas,” Anais replied bluntly.

  Officer Nox narrowed his eyes, as though trying to judge whether or not she was lying.

  “Anais, please continue,” Officer Hughes' calm voice rose slightly. “You were saying...?”

  “I was walking home,” Anais continued, her eyes never leaving Officer Nox. “I was following the directions on my RetCom, when I heard -”

  “Would you care to explain why you were down that particular alley?” Nox interrupted again. “RetComs provide the shortest direct route to your destination – so why would it send you down a residential side street?”

  Anais was beginning to feel seriously annoyed.

  “As I was about to say,” she said through clenched teeth. “I heard a noise down that alley and I went to see -”

  “You heard a noise?” Officer Nox's disdain was clear. “You just happened to hear the sound of someone being attacked, and instead of contacting the police, you thought you'd just skip along and investigate yourself, did you?”

  Anais snapped.

  “I'm sure if someone bashed your head in with a brick you'd make a lot of noise too,” she said loudly. “What was I supposed to do? Run away and leave him to die?”

  “He died anyway,” Officer Nox pointed out.

  “At least there was a chance I could've saved him,” Anais was aware she was almost shouting, but she was too wound up to care. “At least I didn't just walk away from someone who needed help!”

  Officer Hughes held up her palms.

  “Anais, please, calm down. You're not under arrest – we're just simply trying to find out what happened.”

  Anais' breathing was shaky as she took in a deep breath, willing herself to calm down. She didn't like the slight smile that was playing around Nox's thin lips. After a few moments, she carried on.

  “I heard a noise,” she repeated, her voice deliberately calm. “When I looked round the corner, I saw the man, the one with the pale jacket, hitting the other man over the head with a brick. I called out, and he turned, but -” she hesitated. Officer Hughes nodded encouragingly, while Officer Nox looked at her, almost as though he was actually interested in what she had to say. “But it was like he was looking straight through me. It was like I wasn't there at all.” She swallowed hard, remembering his odd, blank stare and the chill that had gone down her spine when she'd seen his dull, dead eyes.

  “And then?” Officer Hughes' quiet voice made her jump.

  “And then...he collapsed. He didn't call out or anything – he just fell to the ground.”

  “He collapsed?” Officer Nox sounded disbelieving. “Just like that?”

  Anais nodded.

  “Once he was on the ground, I ran to see how the other man was. I knelt down next to him, but my RetCom told me he needed professional medical attention. He tried to speak to me, but I couldn't understand what he was saying. And that's when you all turned up,” Anais finished her story abruptly. She didn't want to elaborate any more. The pounding in her head was getting worse. All she wanted to do now was to go home and try to forget the whole sorry thing ever happened.

  She thought Officer Hughes looked satisfied with her explanation, but Officer Nox had a nasty glint in his eye.

  “So the attacker just happened to conveniently faint, just as you arrived?” he said sarcastically. Anais glared at him.

  “Yes,” she said shortly. “He did.”

  He gave a little snort that was clearly supposed to show what he thought of her story, and Anais felt anger bubbling up once more. She rubbed her temple in an effort to alleviate the thumping in her head.

  “Look, that's what I saw. I know how it sou
nds, but it's the truth. I don't know what else you want to hear from me,” her voice was beginning to rise again. “I heard someone in trouble, I saw a man being attacked, the attacker collapsed, I ran to the victim's aid and that's all. Now can I please just go home?”

  “Why are you so keen to go?” Nox jumped in before Officer Hughes had so much as opened her mouth. “Why do you want to leave?”

  Anais gaped at him.

  “Why do I – because I'm tired of all this bullshit, you moron,” Anais said furiously. “I'm tired, it's late, I have a headache, I've just seen a man being beaten to death and I just want to go home. Is that really too much to ask, or are you just a complete fucking idiot?” Her voice rose to a shout.

  Officer Nox was on his feet within nanoseconds. He reached over the table and grabbed her shirt, yanking her face up close to his own. She cried out in pain and fear.

  “Don't you dare take that tone with me, you little -”

  Anais struggled as Officer Hughes jumped up and started yelling, pulling Nox away.

  “That's enough,” she shouted, jerking him back. He released his grip on Anais' shirt and she stumbled backwards into her chair. The two officers remained standing – Officer Hughes visibly restraining Nox as he glowered down at Anais, breathing hard, all traces of handsomeness gone from his face.

  “Officer Nox,” Hughes said forcefully, as though reminding him she was there. He blinked and jerked away from Officer Hughes. He sneered at Anais before turning on his heel, wrenching the door open and stomping out of the room. Officer Hughes was hot on his heels, shooting a look of apology over her shoulder to Anais as she walked out.