Synthetica (14 page)

That stupid, irresponsible, vain, stupid girl! Stupid, stupid,
stupid!

She'd almost ruined everything. He dropped the box onto the work
surface and ripped it open. Desperately, he searched through the
picochips, examining every single one until he was satisfied that
none of them had been damaged. Denzel might not have sold as many of
his altered SLPs as he would've liked, but he had his uses. These
little stolen picochips were the only reason that Denzel had walked
away with his life today.

It still didn't alter the fact that Denzel had failed to deliver
on his promises. Only a few had been sold, nowhere near enough for
him to initiate his larger plan.

Snarling, he swept a toolbox containing balls of wire and
different sized spanners off the table in a fit of rage. The tools
clattered to the floor as he stood there, seething. It wasn't
happening fast enough. He'd waited a long, long time for this, and
now that he was finally in a position of power, he was being forced
to wait for some idiot in a shop to get moving. If only there was
some other way...

His grey eyes alighted on the box of picochips, winking
innocently in the glow of the desk light. He paused.

Slowly, he reached out and picked one out of the box, turning it
over and over in his hands, his mind whirling as the spark of an
idea took shape.

Perhaps that girl wasn't as stupid as he first thought.

He sat down at the computer, still clutching the picochip in his
gloved hand. He typed in his search command and waited for the
screen to load. Behind his mask, he began to smile as he read the
headline on one of the newsfeeds. Of course – now that he read
about it, it seemed so obvious. Why hadn't he thought about it
before?

Civitas was having a birthday party to celebrate its mediocre
achievements. He already had one present planned for them. Why not
make it two?

After all, all the best birthday parties had fireworks. Civitas
shouldn't miss out. It was their fiftieth birthday after all. They
should go out with a bang.

Seven

It was unbearable.

Anais could barely breathe. Every time she tried to draw in a
lungful of that dry, stuffy air it would catch in her throat, as
though she'd forgotten how to inhale properly. She brushed a lock of
sweat drenched hair off her face, cringing at the wetness on her
forehead and the clamminess on her fingertips. She stuffed it back
under her hair net, but it merely fell limply out again.

She wanted to take off her overalls, roll up her sleeves, anything
to get some air onto her burning skin. But she'd already seen
several people being shouted at for that exact offence, and as much
as she wanted to cool down, she didn't fancy getting yelled at for
the third time on her first day of work. She'd already had a
talking-to over her hair, and once more when she didn't know what
the fault was in one of the tiny handheld tools that an impatient
technician was holding out to her. He'd called her stupid, and she'd
retorted with something much worse. Her manager, a man with a thin,
pinched face called Mr Mullins, hadn't been impressed.

Her overalls were covered in smears of grease and scorch marks, and
even a splash of black oil from where another employee had
accidentally dropped a canister of the slick liquid on the floor.
Her hands were red and sweaty. There was angry red mark on her right
thumb from where she'd accidentally touched an exposed wire on a
malfunctioning picochip. The cooling salve she'd applied to it had
long since evaporated and her thumb was beginning to throb once
more.

Her hands hurt. Her feet ached. Her arms felt like dead weights.
She'd never ever imagined, even in her gloomiest thoughts, that the
work would be this labour-intensive. She'd had a half-hour briefing
with the other new recruits that morning on her expected duties and
safety protocols, and then they'd all been thrown into the lion's
pit.

Anais had supposed that they'd be testing the picochips, logging
any anomalies or reporting any malfunctions. She couldn't have been
more wrong. It wasn't the picochips they were maintaining – it was
the machines that produced the picochips; from the great hulking
cooling units, right down to the endless conveyor belts and the tiny
robotic arms that put every picochip together with mind-boggling
delicacy and speed. Anais had been run off her feet all day – no
sooner did she answer a call on her personal alarm, then the bloody
thing would go off again, and she'd be off, running across the
crowded factory floor to try and solve the next problem. The only
problem was, she had no idea how any of these machines worked, or
the correct way to fix it. Most people had taken pity on her once
they realised it was her first day, and had tried to help her. But
there were a few who were expecting her to do it all on her own, who
pointedly ignored her if she tried to ask them for help. She'd
already made a mental note that if the insufferable man by conveyer
belt 6401 called her for help again, she'd find a way to make the
whole thing come crashing down. She couldn't even download any
instructions about the different machine models onto her RetCom, as
the NIC had been remotely disabled the second she'd stepped onto the
factory floor.

She hadn't seen her parents all day, not since her mother woken her
up at the crack of dawn, rushed her to work and pointed her in the
direction of the manager's office, before hurrying off to start her
own shift. She hadn't been to the canteen for her break yet either –
they were supposed to get half an hour at lunchtime, and a fifteen
minute break every two hours, but so far, she hadn't had the time.
Every time she tried to sidle out for a breath of fresh air, her
alarm would go off again. She was almost convinced that someone was
watching her and purposefully assigning her more work to do every
time she tried to take a break.

After
what seemed like an eternity, there was a blast like a foghorn over
the din of the machines on the factory floor and at long last, her
shift was over. Wearily, every muscle aching, she shuffled towards
the door, too tired to look where she was going. She followed the
crowd out of the factory floor, only looking up when she felt cool,
fresher air blowing gently around her. Intense relief washed over
her, as she took in a deep breath of clean air. They were only in
the area outside the main factory floor –
Anais could still hear the deep throbbing noise of the machines
through the wall behind her –
and
the air still had a stale quality to it, but it was hundred times
better than where she'd been cooped up all day.

She tore her hair net off her head and shook her damp pink curls
free. She dropped the net into a special recycling bin outside the
door and hurried towards the main entrance, eager to be back in the
daylight and the fresh air once more.

The crowd began to disperse around her as the others made their to
the canteen for a bite to eat or to the changing rooms, but Anais
was too impatient to get outside. She followed a group of men with
the same shade of orange hair down the corridor, through the main
doors and into the evening sunshine. Her spirits lifted as soon as
she stepped over the threshold. The cool wind had never felt so good
before. She could feel the sweat on her forehead drying, not even
caring that the sudden coolness was causing her arms to break out in
goosebumps.

She simply stood for a long moment, revelling her freedom.
Eventually, she decided to get out of the way of the workers that
were still flowing in and out of the factory and she sat on the
ground a short way from the entrance, keeping one eye on the doors
in case her mum came out. The rest of her attention she gave to the
stream of messages that were now flowing through on her RetCom:

Anais, don't forget to pick up a
spare set of overalls today. Can you get a pair for me too? Love,
dad xx

Hey A! How did your first day go??
Are you still up for meeting later? X

Inwardly, Anais groaned. She wanted to see Xander, but in all
honesty, she was exhausted. All she wanted to do was go home, take a
long shower, and try to forget the whole day had ever happened. The
thought of waking up tomorrow and going through the whole thing
again made her feel as though there was a huge weight on her chest,
crushing her lungs and making it hard for her to breathe. How did
her parents do it? Granted, they had actual jobs to do, but to work
in that environment every day...Anais just couldn't see how they
could stand it.

“
Anais!”

Anais looked up to see her dad walking towards her. She got wearily
to her feet.

“
Dad?
What are you doing here? Hasn't your shift just started?”

Mr Finch shook his head.

“
I'm
on doubles. Just got off. Do you mind if this handsome young man
accompanies you home?”

He gave her a wink, but the dark shadows under his eyes told a
different story from the joviality in his voice. Anais could only
muster up half a smile in return. She'd been kept so busy that she'd
completely forgotten about the dark thoughts about the murder that
had been plaguing her thoughts and her dreams for the past few days.
Now she was glad that her dad was with her as the sun began to set
and the buildings around them began to throw out long shadows.

“
So
how did it go?” Mr Finch asked as they began to walk towards the
maglev station.

“
Oh,
okay,” Anais was unwilling to elaborate but when her dad looked at
her expectantly, she said, “They're training me up as a mechanic,
to begin with.”

It
wasn't really a lie. As far as she could tell, that
was
her
job role. She hadn't been told any different. Sensing her mood, Mr
Finch didn't question her any further as they reached the station
and boarded the next train. Anais couldn't help but notice the
stares she was attracting. She glanced at her reflection in the
window – her hair was wild, and her uniform looked beyond repair.
She reached up and tried to rub a smudge of grease off her cheek,
but it remained stubbornly where it was.

She couldn't help but feel dejected as she stepped off the train,
her dad by her side. Perhaps he noticed her expression, which is why
he patted her awkwardly on the shoulder.

“
Don't
worry love, it'll get easier. You'll soon pick it all up.”

Anais didn't have the strength left to argue. She'd already done a
quick search of the picochip factory on the NIC, and it reportedly
had over five hundred different kinds of machinery. It would be
miracle if she learnt how to operate one of them, let alone another
four hundred and ninety-nine.

“
Anais?”

The puzzled voice made Anais turn. Her heart stopped.

Dalla was standing on the platform, having just disembarked from
the same train. Anais could see her friend's eyes taking in the
grime and dirt on her overalls, the smudge on her cheek, the wild
tangles of her hair. Dalla, in complete contrast, looked as though
she'd just stepped out of a HV advertisement. She was wearing a
stylish white scarf wrapped around her neck, and her black and white
striped dress was impeccably crisp. Her glossy hair shone in the
orange of the setting sun.

Dalla took a step towards her.

“
What
on earth happened to you?” she asked, her dark eyes wide.

Anais gave a bitter smile.

“
The
factory, remember?”

“
Ah,”
Dalla's eyes flicked towards Mr Finch, her fingers playing nervously
with her scarf. “Hi Mr Finch, how are you?”

“
Fine
thanks, Dalla,” he said warmly. He clapped Anais on the shoulder.
“Well, I'll leave you girls to it. See you in a bit.”

He squeezed Anais' shoulder, nodded to Dalla and turned, sauntering
off towards home. Anais waited for Dalla to hesitantly catch up to
her. They both started walking towards their residential district,
an uncomfortable silence stretching between them.

“
So,
how was your first day at Civitas?” Anais finally asked, as they
stopped at a pedestrian crossing. Brightly coloured auto-cabs
hovered serenely by, full of commuters. Dalla shrugged.

“
Oh,
it was okay.” Out of the corner of her eye, Anais could see Dalla
struggling with herself not to blurt everything out. “How was
yours?”

It was Anais' turn to shrug.

“
It
was okay.”

The light flashed green and they crossed the road. Anais could still
see her dad walking a little way in front of them.

“
Look...Anais,”
Dalla started, but Anais suddenly found she didn't need to hear it.

“
Dalla,”
she said, pulling Dalla to a stop. “I'm sorry. For the way I acted
yesterday. And for...well, for being a bit of a bitch, really.”

Dalla giggled.

“
Friends?”
Anais asked hopefully. Dalla slipped her arm around Anais'.

“
I
wasn't aware we weren't,” she said lightly, much more like her
usual cheerful self. They began to walk again, Dalla's arm still
hanging onto Anais.

“
So
you wanna tell me what's been bugging you? You were acting weird all
yesterday,” Dalla said as they sidestepped a young couple dressed
in neon green walking in the opposite direction. Anais opened her
mouth, puzzled, before she realised – in her fit of jealousy
yesterday, she'd never gotten round to telling Dalla what she'd
witnessed in the alley. Now that she thought about it, it seemed
like an astonishing lapse in memory.

“
Well,”
Anais looked around. The streets were a lot quieter now as they
began to enter the residential street. Her dad was still ambling
ahead of them, but apart from that, they were the only ones on the
street. The sky was a blaze of orange and gold and purple as the sun
threw out it's last rays. Even the thought of darkness beginning to
descend made Anais feel slightly nervous. She wanted to get off the
streets as soon as possible. “Listen, why don't you come over
later, I've got something to tell you.”

“
Ooh,
what?” Dalla's bright eyes gazed at her. Her cheeks were tinged
pink with the promise of gossip. “Hey, you're not pregnant are
you?”

“
Dalla!”
Anais said, shoving her playfully. Dalla laughed.

“
Just
checking! So what's it about?”

“
I
can't tell you here,” Anais said with another glance around. “Come
over to mine later, and I'll tell you.”

“
Sure,”
Dalla said, scratching behind her ear. She rearranged her scarf and
fanned her face with her hand. “Is it just me, or is it a bit
warm?”

“
It's
not that warm,” Anais said. Now that she'd been walking for a
while, the sweat on her skin had cooled, leaving her shivering
slightly.

“
Hey,
so you know that murder that happened last night?” Dalla said
suddenly.