Synthetica (20 page)

“
Yeah,
I'm fine,” he also scanned the thickening crowds. “No luck?”

Anais shook her head. Xander glanced down, noticing the tear in her
leggings.

“
Are
you alright? What happened?” he asked.

“
It's
fine,” she said, although her leg was still throbbing. She bent
down to inspect the area. The skin wasn't broken, but there was a
red patch with a faint purplish tinge to it. She was going to have a
nasty bruise there in a few days time. “It's just bruised.”

“
So
what now?” Xander asked. “Where do we go from here?”

Anais
shook her head again, despair beginning to wash over her. The sirens
they'd heard in the shop wailed louder.

“
Come
on,” Xander held out his arm for Anais to take. “We should get
out of here.”

They hurried as best as they could down the street, though Anais'
leg was aching more with each step she took. Once they were out of
the market, they cut through a few of the smaller side streets. She
leant on Xander the further they walked, but Xander insisted they
kept going to put as much distance between them and Denzel's shop as
possible. They emerged from another alley, and Anais blinked in the
sudden light.

The sunlight was reflecting off the meandering river in front of
them, dazzling her eyes. A cool breeze came off the water, bringing
with it the faint tang of silt and fish from further upstream. They
crossed the road and Anais sank down onto the pavement by a white
HelixPod, unable to walk any further. Xander joined her, sitting
down with a groan and clutching his left side.

Advertising screens lined the top of the buildings around them,
showing off the iridescent tattoos that were currently all the rage,
advertising Civitas' parade and the SLPs that were going to be
launched, and this month's must have shade of hair colour. A little
further down the opposite bank, the gleaming Civitas building with
it's giant silver 'C' nestled between the hi-rise buildings of the
financial district.

Anais tore her eyes away from the building and concentrated on the
river instead. Different sized boats were drifting past, carrying
crates full of fruit and vegetables, containers of silk and cotton
and other goods that the city frequently imported. She watched as
they drifted around the river bend towards the harbour on the city's
edge. Smaller boats stamped with the city's crest fought against the
current, sailing away from the harbour, exporting the technological
goods the Imperial City was famous for to other parts of the
country. All along the river's edge, council workers were hanging up
Civitas decorations between the lampposts, shouting at each other as
they tried to agree on how high the flags should go. If it wasn't
for the inner turmoil Anais was feeling, the day would've been quite
peaceful.

Anais stared at the flags for a moment without really seeing them.
Instead, she was seeing the man fleeing from the shop and she
wondered, rather belatedly, why he would want Denzel dead. Denzel
hadn't been that friendly when she'd met him, but that was no reason
to kill him. But this thought was quickly overwhelmed by another.

“
That's
it,” she said thickly. “Denzel was the only lead we had. How are
we supposed to find out where those SLPs came from and who made
them?”

It occurred to her, too late, that they should've tried to search
the shop for Denzel's stock of SLPs. But it was far too risky to go
back now.

“
There
must be some other way,” Xander said, though he didn't sound too
hopeful. “We just need to think through our options.”

But as hard as she tried, Anais couldn't think of a single thing
that could help them. Denzel had told her that he didn't make the
SLPs himself. With Denzel now dead, and everyone else who had bought
one off him dead too, who could they turn to now? Not the police –
they'd arrest her for sure. Her parents still didn't have a clue she
was involved in all this, not that they'd help her anyway. They'd be
terrified she'd die next and place her under house arrest.

“
Well
Civitas is going to be pissed when they find out someone's stolen
their SLP designs,” Xander said, as though they were carrying on a
previous conversation. He watched as two council workers unfurled a
large blue flag with the Civitas logo imprinted on it. “Especially
since they're supposed to be launching them tomorrow.”

“
Do
you think they even know?” Anais asked, more to keep her mind off
the despair that was creeping over her, than actually caring about
the answer.

“
I
doubt it – I haven't heard anything at work, anyway. If they did,
surely they'd delay the launch?” Xander said. Anais looked at him,
a memory from the previous day rising to the surface of her mind.

“
What
if they do know?” she said suddenly. “What if they're just
trying to hush it up?”

Xander looked at her sceptically.

“
No,
listen,” Anais leant forward towards him. “We already know the
SLPs Denzel sold caused Marcus and those other men to murder
employees from WireX and MediTech. It's a Civitas product.
What
if Civitas is behind all this
?”

Xander didn't seem impressed.

“
That
seems pretty far-fetched, Anais,” he said. “What would be the
point?”

“
Because
they want to take over WireX Industries. And MediTech. They're the
only two companies capable of creating the kinds of products Civitas
can. They don't want the competition. And,” she remembered with
painful clarity the conversation she'd had on the train with Dalla.
It seemed like a lifetime ago. “The first victim in all these
murders was planning on leaving MediTech and setting up a new
medical company. What if Civitas heard about this new medical tech
and decided to take him out?”

She didn't like the way Xander was looking at her. There was a
mixture of pity and sadness in his eyes.

“
What?”
she asked.

“
Anais...”
he said as gently as he could. “You've been through an awful
shock. I know you're hurting right now, but I don't think you're
thinking straight. Why would Civitas risk everything, just to take
out a few rivals?”

“
They
must be involved somehow,” Anais insisted. “It's their product
that's being sold illegally. How else could it have been designed?”

Her
thought was cut off by a
ping
and a line of text popped up in her vision:
Inside
the world's most genius minds: Dora Larkin, Magnus King and Clay
Winterbourne - The voices of a generation.

“
Oh
for goodness sake -” Anais went to delete the news alert, but
stopped. She stared at the text in her vision, excitement beginning
to mount as she reread the name.
Clay
Winterbourne
.

“
I've
got it,” she said suddenly. “I know who we can go and see.”

“
Who's
that then?” Xander's attention was preoccupied with his left arm
where a nasty bruise was beginning to blossom.

“
We
have to go and see Clay Winterbourne.”

Xander stopped examining at his arm and slowly looked up at her.

“
What?”
His dark eyes surveyed her, and for a moment, her resolve wavered.

“
We
have to go and see Clay Winterbourne,” she repeated. “He's the
only one to ever break into Civitas successfully – twice. He used
to be their top product designer, he was a genius. If anyone will
know how Civitas is doing all this, he will.”

She didn't like how Xander continued to stare at her.

“
No.”

His short answer threw her.

“
No?
But...why not?”

“
Because
the guy's insane, Anais. He murdered his whole family. Also,” he
raised his voice slightly as she began to interrupt. “You don't
have any evidence that Civitas has done anything wrong. For all we
know, maybe someone like Clay Winterbourne hacked into Civitas and
took the SLP designs. Just because they're a Civitas product doesn't
mean Civitas is behind all this. And there's no way we're going to
go and see a convicted psychopath, just to prove that you're right.”

“
All
the more reason to go and see him! No, listen,” Anais flapped her
hands to quieten Xander. “You just said that someone like Clay
Winterbourne might be behind this...but what if it's
actually
him?
You heard what Marcus said – someone tried to break into Civitas
again a few days ago. Since then, the whole incident has been hushed
up but something that big should've been on the news. What if he
stole the SLP design and he's now creating his own version? We could
at least go and ask him.”

She looked at him eagerly but Xander didn't look as impressed as she
thought he would.

“
Anais...that's
a stretch by any means. If he wanted to get back at Civitas, why
wouldn't he either break into the company building and wreak havoc
there, or, if he was murdering people, why wouldn't he just go after
people who actually worked for Civitas? What did Marcus or Denzel or
Dalla ever do to him?”

The mention of Dalla's name brought Anais up short. She drew in a
sharp breath. Xander noticed her stricken expression and tenderly
placed an arm around her shoulders.

“
I'm
sorry, I didn't mean it like that,” he said gently. “I agree
with you, there's something suspicious going on, but we can't just
keep pulling conclusions out of thin air.”

Anais stared out over the street, trying to ignore the pain in her
chest. She couldn't just give up. She had to keep going. She had no
other choice. There was no one left she could turn to. She had to
bring Dalla's murderer to justice, and if that meant conspiring with
a known madman, so be it.

She shrugged off Xander's arm and stood up, ignoring the dull
thumping in her leg.

“
Where
are you going?”

“
I'm
going to see Clay and I'm going to find out who's behind all this.
And I'm going to do it with or without your help,” she glanced
down at him with a fire in her eyes. “I have to do this, Xander,
for Dalla.”

Her voice caught as she mentioned Dalla's name, but she still held
her head high. Xander struggled to his feet and faced her. His
indigo eyes burned into hers. He reached out and brushed a lock of
pink hair away from her face. A shock of electricity went through
Anais' skin from his touch.

“
I'm
with you,” he said quietly. “Always.”

And, although she knew she didn't deserve it, knew she wouldn't be
truly happy again for a very very long time, Anais couldn't stop the
smallest of smiles spreading across her lips.

“
But
before we go dashing off, though, there's something we need to do
first,” Xander added.

“
What's
that?” Anais asked.

Xander nodded towards the building emblazoned with the giant silver
'C'.

“
We're
going to pay a visit to Civitas.”

That had been far too close.

Gritting his teeth against the pain, he lowered his arm and
attempted to walk normally. He resisted the urge to look back and
see where the pink haired girl was, instead concentrating on walking
as fast as he could without drawing attention to himself. He pulled
his hood up to hide his masked face. He didn't care about the odd
looks he was getting, so long as he didn't get caught by that girl
and her companion.

If only Denzel had done what he had promised, the fool might
still be alive. But even under threat, Denzel had admitted that he
still needed more time to sell the SLPs. Idiot. He had had no
further use for him and, despite Denzel's pleas, in the end he was
just another loose end to get rid of.

He rounded a corner and, after a furtive glance around the
deserted side street, finally deemed it safe enough to take a look
at his arm. His black jacket and the fabric of his long sleeved
t-shirt had been slashed where a piece of metal had pierced it.
Blood welled up between his fingers as he examined the wound
dispassionately. It looked like it might need stitches.

Hadn't he warned Denzel about the dangers of keeping so much
junk? Perhaps in hindsight, he should've killed Denzel and then
buried him underneath a pile of scrap parts, to make it look like
more of an accident. But that girl had come bursting in before he
could do anything else. No matter – after tomorrow, he didn't
particularly care if they discovered who, or what, was killing all
these people. After tomorrow, every citizen in this city would know
his name. And even if the hopeless police did get their act
together, the authorities would have an extremely hard time tracking
him down. Almost subconsciously, he rubbed the tiny white scar
behind his right ear.

The girl though...he was going to have to keep an eye out for
her. She didn't strike him as being particularly clever, but by some
strange twist of fate it seemed as though she had become involved in
his little plan, if what the purple haired boy said had been true.
It would only take one slip up on his part for the whole thing to
come crashing down and then he'd be completely exposed.

So it was a good job he was planning on doing that anyway. Let
the little girl sniff around – there was nothing she could
discover now that could help her or anyone else in this pathetic
city. Tomorrow, every false, pretentious, preening person that this
city was full of would be shown just how small and insignificant
they really were.

He took of his jacket and ripped the sleeve off his t-shirt,
wrapping it around his bleeding arm. Once satisfied he wasn't going
to leave a trail of blood behind him, he strode off. He had no time
to waste; there were six more chips out there. Six more chances for
him to play his game, before he had to prepare for the big show
tomorrow.

He had a lot of work to do.