Synthetica

By Rachel Pattinson

This city is falling.

Seventeen-year-old Anais Finch lives in a world where everyone is born beautiful, where every dream is a possibility - and where their every move and every piece of personal information is recorded by an ID picochip inserted behind their right ear. When technology giant, Civitas, finally announces the launch of their highly anticipated Scholarly Learning Programs, which allow people to download and learn any subject instantly, Anais can hardly wait.

But not everyone is pleased with society's progress, and not everyone wants to fit in. When Anais witnesses a brutal murder on an innocent citizen and is implicated in the crime, she becomes determined to uncover the truth, especially when others like it begin to occur all over the city. But it may already be too late for Anais to stop the man who calls himself 'the Hacker' before he commits his most appalling crime yet.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rachel Pattinson
• Release date: Jul 5, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311187062

Rachel Pattinson

Rachel Pattinson graduated from Oxford Brookes University with a BA Hons in Publishing Media. Born and raised in the north of England, she shares a love for anything to do with tea, cake, bread and butter, rain, the dark, lakes, fells and Lord of the Rings. She now lives in Norfolk with her partner in crime, and is currently working on several new projects, including the sequel to Synthetica.

Book preview

The green light flashed. Finally, the program was online.

He paused, staring at the computer screen, hardly daring to believe it. The computer was an antique from the 21st Century, but using such old technology had its advantages. For one, it meant that its software didn't register on modern computer models, making it laughably easy to hack into any new system. These people truly were arrogant if they believed themselves to be untouchable.

Well, he was just about to prove to them just how wrong they were.

He skimmed the text with an expert eye, registering certain details as they leapt out at him. ID number, name, age, job title, where they lived, even what they ate last week. His laugh was muffled by the black mask strapped across the lower half of his face. This was almost too easy. It was almost as if they wanted to die.

His fingers flew over the keyboard as he typed in commands, the computer whining as he pushed it to its maximum capacity. He pressed the 'Enter' key without pausing.

Whilst he waited for confirmation that his command had been sent, his grey eyes wandered over to the small box of picochips on the desk; their silver and bronze whorls twinkling in the half light. If this test worked...these tiny wonders he created were about to change the world.

Ten years. Ten years he'd been waiting for this moment. Waiting for them to mess up. Waiting for them to create something he could manipulate to his own ends. And finally, it was here. All of his waiting and planning would finally pay off.

The computer beeped, telling him that his command had been accepted by the host. Behind his mask he smiled a cold, cruel smile.

Time to see what Mr Smithson was capable of. He wondered, just for the briefest of seconds, if Mr Smithson had any objection to becoming a murderer. Not that it mattered if he did – he'd be dead in a few hours anyway.

One

The first time Anais saw a man being murdered, she was just seventeen.

She was already acquainted with death – having witnessed the traditional burning of both sets of grandparents some years earlier, she knew what was what. But she'd never seen someone actually die. She'd never seen someone murder a man in cold blood. It was not to be the last.

It was a cold, clear day, which marked the beginning of autumn in the Imperial City. The trees were a riot of colour, their crisp leaves crunching underfoot or floating dreamily on the still warm breeze. Anais was safe at home. She opened up the Food Dispensation Unit to find breakfast, predictably, waiting for her.

Good morning, Anais. Your biometrics indicate that you are lacking in protein today. Please find your suggested breakfast option below, the cool female voice that inhabited the FDU intoned. Anais looked at the plate of diced avocado and bobbly cottage cheese, sprinkled with quinoa, in disgust and almost threw up.

System override, she said hastily. Requesting bacon and eggs.

The FDU was quiet for a moment, in what Anais imagined to be a sullen silence.

This course is not recommended, the voice said. Bacon and eggs has been requested three times in the last seven days. Variation at meal times is the best option in getting the recommended amount of vitamins and minerals per day. Was it Anais' imagination, or was there a hint of reproach in the machine's voice?

Then stop making me stupid meals, Anais muttered. A little louder she said, System override.

The FDU remained silent. It's definitely taking longer to prepare food Anais thought. Could machines have feelings, or was she simply being paranoid? After a few seconds, the offending plate slid out of view, and a minute later a new one rose up, complete with three steaming rashers of bacon and two fried eggs.

Stingy, Anais said as she inspected the plate. You definitely gave me four rashers the other day.

The FDU didn't reply, so Anais shut the door with her elbow and turned away to place her breakfast on the table. She sat down and began to tuck in, although she couldn't help feeling that the bacon wasn't quite as crispy as usual, and the yolk in her eggs was only just runny – clearly, she'd caused offence one too many times.

With a sigh of satisfaction, she pushed her empty plate away and touched a spot on the glass table in front of her. The embedded screen flickered into life, the latest news and entertainment stories popping up to greet her. She scrolled through the different windows, occasionally skim-reading a headline that looked interesting. One pop-up informed her that black and white stripes were back in season; while an advertisement for prenatal conditioning flashed repeatedly (Let your baby shine; neon DNA now half price! Only 2,000 CRD for a limited time only!). She touched the glass, beginning to turn off all the pointless notifications, when one of them caught her eye, hidden behind a slew of advertisements and celebrity gossip feeds. Her heart leapt. She maximised the window and began to read eagerly:

You're invited!

Dear Imperial City Citizen,

Here at Civitas, we can't believe it's our 50th birthday already. Where has the time gone?

Over the years, we've prided ourselves on bringing you the latest in technological innovations; from more efficient FDUs, to allowing effortless communication with the latest RetCom designs.

Now the time has come to celebrate our 50th birthday in style!

You're officially invited to our street party and parade, taking place outside our headquarters on Saturday 15th September at 12:00. There'll be food, music, and of course, a large discount on selected Civitas products! So if there's something you've had your eye on, what better time to purchase it? Our party is also the ideal time for us to launch our highly anticipated Scholarly Learning Programs; download knowledge on any subject you wish – instantly!*

So come along and bring all the family – we look forward to seeing you there!

*Programs are subject to availability. Please click here for full list of programs. Terms & Conditions apply.

Anais finished reading the invitation, excitement coursing through her. She clicked on the link provided and scanned through the list. She didn't have to look very far to find what she wanted. There, in-between Aerodynamics and Art (Oil based) was the subject she'd been waiting for; Architecture. A huge smile spread across her face.

She absentmindedly rubbed the small area behind her right ear where her ID chip was implanted as she looked through the rest of the subjects Civitas would offer on their SLPs. Sometimes she imagined she could feel it sitting underneath her skin, not quite tingling, but definitely aware that it was there. The feeling had intensified since she'd had it upgraded last month so it could handle the new SLP software.

Her dad walked in at that moment, switching on the HoloVision set as he entered the kitchen. A hologram showing the latest news flickered into life, projecting itself into the air above the HV console, a hubbub of voices filling the air.

Morning, love, he said, giving her a kiss on the top of her head as he passed.

Morning, Anais replied, concentrating on the screen in front of her.

Up a bit early for a Saturday aren't you? he asked, as he opened the FDU. Anais focused on the bottom left hand side of her vision where her electronic RetCom lens covered her eye.

Oh yeah, she said vaguely, as the time displayed on her RetCom showed ten to eight. The street cleaners woke me again. Thought I might as well get up.

There was another reason she was up so early; it was at the edge of her memory, but try as she might, the thought kept eluding her. There was something she was supposed to do today, something to do with the Academy. She had a vague recollection she was supposed to be somewhere, but after having the last few weeks blissfully free of school since she'd finished her final exams, all thoughts of anything school related had been washed from her mind. She blinked and looked up in time to see her dad making a face.

What's up? she asked, leaning back in her chair slightly to see what edible delights the FDU had cooked up for him. He pulled the plate out and offered it to her.

That bloody machine! She knew it – there was definitely some kind of malfunction going on somewhere in the food network. There, right in front of her, she could swear was the exact same plate of avocado and cottage cheese it had tried to feed her. Mr Finch looked down at it mournfully.

I don't suppose you want to swap? he said, his expression lifting hopefully before he registered Anais' empty plate, and it fell again.

Sorry, dad, Anais laughed. I've already eaten. It tried to give me the same thing. Why don't you just ask it for something else?

Her dad shook his head as he sat down with a sigh.

It won't let me, he said, looking miserable. Apparently I've been disregarding its advice too many times, and now I'm not allowed to override the system until my cholesterol is back to normal.

Says who?' Anais asked, baffled. I didn't know appliances could actually stop you from doing something."

They can't, Mr Finch sighed. But your mother can.

Anais stifled a laugh. There was a ping inside her head, and a small circular icon depicting a calendar flashed in her vision. It expanded out into a short paragraph, informing Anais of her schedule for the day:

MISS ANAIS FINCH

ID: 901219

10.00AM – CAREER’S ADVICE

LOCATION: CITY HALL

STATUS: COMPULSORY

CURRENT TRAVEL TIME TO DESTINATION: 37 MINUTES

She groaned as she read through the information. This was what she couldn't remember. She'd completely forgotten her year group was due to have their careers advice before they left the Academy for good – after they'd spoken to the careers advisor, the Academy would enrol them in whatever training program or job the advisor deemed them suitable for, regardless of whether or not they wanted to pursue that particular career path.

Something wrong? Mr Finch forced down the last mouthful of food and sat back with a grimace.

Career’s advice, Anais said, blinking away the words in her eyesight.

Ahh yes, her dad nodded. I was wondering when yours would be. I can still remember mine. I had someone called Mr Peters. Horrible bloke. Told me I could go far if I applied myself, but because of my appalling exam results, he gave me a job at the picochip factory.

Anais stared at him.

You didn’t ask to work at the factory? But...I always thought that’s where you wanted to go.

Mr Finch shook his head.

Nope. First choice was… he frowned as he tried to remember. Medic, I think. But it all turned out for the best – you know what I’m like at the sight of blood.

He grinned at her and Anais gave a small half smile in return, but there was a sick feeling in her gut. She knew getting an apprenticeship as an architect was a long shot, but what if she didn’t get into her second or third choices either? What if her exam results had been so bad that she was deemed to be unemployable, or worse, ended up in a dead end job as a street cleaner or working in the underground recycling plant? In a moment of panic, she called up her exam results on her RetCom, scanning quickly through the list. They didn’t seem so awful to her – she’d scraped passes in everything but Programming, but she chose to ignore this result. She'd always hated Programming.

I guess Career's Advice will be redundant in a few years anyway, Mr Finch continued. After these SLPs are released, you'll be able to get whatever job you like.

I hope so, Anais muttered darkly. She didn't fancy spending her life toiling away at a job that she hated. But in a week's time, none of that would matter. Instead, she could simply buy whatever knowledge she wanted. She chose not to think about the fact that she had no idea how she'd actually pay for an SLP; Anais could only hope that the advisor wouldn't look too closely at her poor grades, and didn't enrol her in something that paid peanuts.

Mr Finch opened his mouth to say something else, when he was interrupted by a burst of music from the HV. Both of them turned to see the noise of the commotion, as a large hologram of the words BREAKING NEWS flashed in the air. A flawless-looking blonde newsreader appeared, her pink and silver flecked eyes looking unusually sombre.

Police investigating the murder of a thirty-six year old man, who was pulled from the Golden River early this morning, have discovered the body of the man believed to be the murderer near the scene of the crime.

The hologram cut to a team of medics and police huddled round a white tent that had been erected by the riverside. Judging by the skyscrapers behind them, Anais guessed they were somewhere downtown, west of the financial district. A picture of a man with floppy auburn hair appeared and began to rotate in the air.

The victim has been identified as thirty-six year old Ben Anderson, a director of medical supply company MediTech. The suspect has been confirmed as forty-two year old George Smithson, a recycle plant worker.

A second head appeared by the first. This man had neatly trimmed mauve hair, and the faintest hint of stubble on his cheeks. Both men didn't look a day over twenty five. Perhaps it was just because of the nature of the story, but Anais felt a chill down her spine as Smithson's pale blue eyes bore into hers.

- found with his throat cut. The police are yet to determine the cause of Mr Smithson's death. They are currently appealing for information about the events leading up to Mr Anderson's murder. Anyone who may have seen anything suspicious is encouraged to contact the police immediately.

Anais frowned as she watched the footage of a forensics team sweeping the river's edge. A line of matt-black securi-bots were patrolling the area, guarding it from curious passers-by. There was something familiar about the company the victim had been a director of. She knew the name well enough, but it took her a moment to realise that it was also the same company that her best friend's parents worked for. She made a mental note to message Dalla and ask her if her parents were okay.

The cameras returned to the glossy, golden haired newsreader who flicked back her perfect bob and began reading her next story. A movement caught Anais' eye and she turned to look down at the table which had an explosion of new notifications, all clambering on top of each other in a desire to catch the reader's attention first; relaying the news of the murder, speculation about the murderer's motives, gossip about the two men's fashion sense and whether or not Smithson wearing last season's tartan was a crime in itself.

How awful! Anais, were you planning on going downtown today? came Mr Finch's horrified voice. Anais looked up at him, and for the first time that day, she registered the dark circles under her father's eyes. His teal coloured hair, which was normally slicked back, was beginning to look lank. Working twelve hour night shifts at the picochip factory was starting to take its toll. If he wasn't careful, he'd soon be starting to look like his true age. No doubt his boss would soon be snidely enquiring when his next appointment at a HelixPod was booked for.

She shook her head.

Just going to City Hall. Dalla mentioned something about going shopping afterwards, she said.

Mr Finch furrowed his brow.

I don't know if that's such a good idea, sweetheart. Maybe you should just come home afterwards? Just until all this dies down, he added, nodding towards the table which was still lit up with photos of the murderer and the victim.

Dad, we'll be fine, Anais said gently, reaching over the table and squeezing his hand. But if it makes you feel any better, I'll ask Dalla to come over here instead.

Mr Finch flashed her a relieved smile.

Thanks, love, he said, patting her hand.

Goodness me, Anais, aren't you ready yet? Don’t think you can get out of going to Career's Advice - they sent me a reminder just in case you conveniently forgot. And you, Martin, what on earth are you still doing up?

Mrs Finch waltzed into the room, barely sparing a glance at her daughter and husband as she whisked away their breakfast dishes and grabbed a pre-made smoothie from the FDU. She was already dressed in the navy blue uniform that was almost identical to her husband's. The only difference was that while Mr Finch's was covered in small burns and smears of grease, Mrs Finch's was still spotless.

Morning mum, Anais said cheerfully. I hadn't forgotten. I just think it's stupid that we have to go.

Mrs Finch shot her a disapproving look.

I don't think you realise how important this is. You do know that once they assign you a job, that's it? It's important you make a good impression. Have you memorised your questions to ask them?

Anais rolled her eyes. There was only one question she wanted to ask - how long would she have to work in her assigned job until she could leave and do something she actually wanted to do? She chose not to mention this to her mother.

Anais stood up and gave her mum a quick hug.

Don't worry about me, mum, I'll be fine.

Mrs Finch squeezed her back.

I know, she sighed as they pulled apart. She tucked a strand of Anais' hair behind her ear. I just worry about you. It's natural for mothers to want to protect their first child.

I'm your only child, Anais pointed out and Mrs Finch rolled her eyes. She shooed Anais away.

Be off with you! You don't want to be late. And Martin, shouldn't you be in bed?

I'll go to bed if you join me, Mr Finch growled, reaching up and pulling his wife onto his lap, drawing her in for a kiss. She shrieked in surprise and giggled as she kissed him back. Anais wrinkled her nose.

Please, she said. Save it for the bedroom.

Mrs Finch broke away from her husband's embrace looking flustered, but pleased.

Well if you'd left on time, you wouldn't be here to witness it now would you? she chided her daughter, as she smoothed back her pale green hair.

An icon in Anais' vision flashed, informing her she had one hour before her appointment at City Hall. Another icon appeared next to it, stating that she had a new invitation waiting. Curiously, she opened it, her heart giving a little leap as she saw who it was from:

Request from Xander Silvas. Cinema. Proposed time: 20:00 - 22:00. Accept?

Anais couldn't stop the smile spreading across her face.

What are you so happy about? Mrs Finch asked, looking suspiciously up at Anais from where she still sat on her husband's lap.

Nothing, Anais said, immediately wiping the smile off her face. Just something Dalla sent me. I've got to go, see you later.

Good luck! Be careful today, Mrs Finch called after her. And come straight home after you've finished. Okay?

Anais waved back at her parents to show she'd heard. As she picked up her jacket, the message from Xander still glowed gently at the top of her eyesight. She hesitated for a moment. She knew her parents wouldn't approve of her going out tonight, not after the news of the murder, but privately she thought they were overreacting slightly. Murder in the Imperial City wasn't unheard of, but it was uncommon, especially since the penalty if you were found guilty was death.

She was torn between wanting to see Xander, and not wanting to cause her parents any extra stress. But she only had to think of Xander's indigo eyes, crinkled into a smile as he looked at her, and her mind was made up.

Anais accepted the invitation as she rushed out of the flat, into the bright autumn morning.

Two

Anais had to run to the station, her candy floss pink hair flying out behind her as she ran round street corners, dodging in and out of the other commuters. Her parents, like her grandparents before them, had chosen pastel coloured hair for their only child - Anais strongly suspected it was because pastel shades were one of the cheaper options when choosing your child's initial DNA, but she'd never asked.

As Anais ran down the path and onto the street, she called up the map function on her RetCom, programming it to City Hall. She'd only ever been to the City Hall once, when she was five years old, and her parents had to register her for school. An orange line appeared in her vision, guiding her to the maglev station and informing her to take line 7 into the city centre. There was another ping inside her head, and this time she was unsurprised to see Dalla's name flash up next to the little message icon:

At station. Where are you?! D xxx

Anais fired off a reply back to Dalla saying that she was on her way and upped her pace. Today of all days, Dalla was likely to be even more wound up that usual about being late.

Colourful blocks of flats towered above her, their large glass windows gleaming in the morning light. Trees lined the city streets, their dark green leaves waving in the breeze. As Anais rounded another corner, she could just make out the shining glass and steel skyscrapers through the hazy horizon that marked the beginning of the city's downtown district. Despite how late she was, she couldn't help but drink in the sight in front of her, taking in deep breaths of fresh air as she ran. A slow smile spread across her face as the city glinted before her in the morning sun.

Her RetCom went off again and she opened the new message without breaking her stride. This time it was from Xander. Anais' heart gave a funny little backflip as she read through it:

Hey A. Looking forward to tonight ;). Good luck at your CA! X

How was it that everyone else remembered about their Career's Advice and she hadn't? She would have to see if she could get Dalla to tell her how to set up a new reminder function on her RetCom. Her smile widened as she read through the message again.

She was so distracted by the warm fuzzy feeling the simple message had induced in her, that she was forced to swiftly twirl around an orange haired woman as she rounded a corner at speed.

Sorry! she shouted over her shoulder to the disgruntled looking woman.

Thankfully, the rush was worth it and she arrived at the platform with two minutes to spare. As she bent over to try to get her breath back, her RetCom flashed up her vital stats. It informed her that her heart rate was too fast for the speed she'd been running. It helpfully asked her if she'd like to schedule automatic exercise notifications. Anais blinked the irritating little box away and stood back up straight. She tucked her long hair behind her ear as she surveyed the crowded station for a glimpse of Dalla's distinctive brown curls. Commuters and students alike lined the platform, some formed groups which were chattering loudly, others looking as though they were talking to midair as they conducted conversations on their RetComs. The smell of coffee and freshly baked pastries filled the air, wafted out from the crowded platform shop. She was just about to phone Dalla when she heard a shout above the usual morning racket.

Anais! She craned her neck over a group of smartly dressed commuters and saw a hand waving in the air. She pushed her way through the crowd and was greeted by the sight of her best friend, looking immaculate as always in a black and white striped shirt and black trousers.

Dalla threw her arms around her as soon as she got in reach, and Anais returned the hug.

Seriously babe, what took you so long? I thought you'd been knocked down by a cab or something, Dalla broke away, peering down the empty train line. Speaking of which, d'you think we should get one? I don't think we'll get there on time -

It'll be here, Anais said smoothly. Stop panicking.

Yeah but still, it doesn't -Dalla broke off as she looked her friend up and down. Sweetie, is that all you're wearing today?

Well, yeah, Anais glanced down at her outfit. Denim shirt, favourite faded red leather jacket (that somehow didn't clash horribly with her hair) and dark blue jeans. Why?

Anais, Dalla complained, her dark curls bouncing as she shook her head. You know we have to make a good impression today. I even messaged you last night to remind you to dress smartly. Did you not hear that black and white is back in? What on earth are they going to think?

That I'm not some weirdo who likes to walk around naked? Clothes are just clothes, Dalla, who cares?

Dalla closed her eyes as though she was mortally offended by Anais' words.

Besides, Anais added. Our careers should already be decided, right? They look at our exam results, not our fashion sense.

Luckily for you, Dalla muttered under her breath, and Anais elbowed her.

At that moment the magnet train glided silently into the station, it's doors opening with a small whoosh. Anais and Dalla hopped onboard, managing to grab a couple of seats by the window before the carriage filled up completely. Dalla hooked her arm through Anais' as they settled down for the ride. The train began to move smoothly out of the station, the blocks of flats blurring into a rainbow smudge as the train picked up speed.

I couldn't sleep a wink last night, Dalla said as she sat back in her seat. All I could think about was whether or not Civitas will accept my internship application. I think I messed up on question 42b. I don't know whether they actually want you to be proficient in Xiscor software, or if you're just supposed to be aware of it. The question wasn't that clear. I'm hoping I'll be able to ask someone today. Do you think it'll affect my chances of getting in? She broke off, chewing her lip and looking at Anais nervously.

Definitely not, Anais said. If they're going to pick anyone, it's going to be the person who scored the highest mark out of the whole year on their Programming exam. Besides, don't forget we've always got our second and third options, if we don't get our first choice.

Dalla flashed her a grateful smile.

I don't know how you can be so calm. I'm so nervous, Dalla squeezed Anais' arm.

I forgot about today, Anais said truthfully. Dalla gaped at her.

How could you forget?! This is like, the most important day ever!

Anais raised an eyebrow.

I don't know, I just..forgot, she said and Dalla rolled her eyes.

You'd forget your head if it wasn't screwed on, Dalla teased, as Anais stuck her tongue out at her.

They sat in companionable silence for a few moments, watching the city scenery roll past the windows. It was only when Dalla turned to speak to her again that Anais noticed something slightly off about her friend's appearance.

Dalla, she said sharply, and Dalla jumped, looking guilty.

What? she asked, trying to sound innocent while avoiding Anais' eye.

Look at me, Anais demanded. Slowly, like a small child that drags it's feet when they know they've done something wrong, Dalla met Anais' gaze before quickly shifting her eyes away again. Dalla's eyes, instead of being their normal deep brown, were now flecked with shimmering gold.

I don't believe it – Dalla, have you been to a HelixPod again? That's the third time this month! Anais said in disbelief. Dalla squirmed in her seat as Anais glared at her, trying hard to look stern. Eventually, Dalla cracked.

Okay, so I had my eye colour done, but so what? Gold is so in this month - it really suits my skin tone, don't you think? And it really brings out the highlights in my hair, Dalla said in a rush. Anais rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help smiling as Dalla looked at her imploringly.

Secretly, she was baffled by Dalla's obsession with cosmetic procedures – although it was normal for everyone to have a little fixer-upper now and again, Anais couldn't understand why someone would want to change their appearance so often on a whim, in the name of fashion. But then again, Anais couldn't really complain – there was that time when she was fifteen and it was all the rage to have neon green hair and bronze skin. Her mum had almost had a heart attack when Anais had walked into the kitchen sporting that look.

It looks good, Anais said truthfully. She couldn't lie – Dalla did look even more stunning that usual. She always had had a knack for standing out from the crowd, despite the fact that they were surrounded by flawless skin and perfectly made up faces.

Y'know, Dalla said, looking at Anais thoughtfully. "It's been awhile since you've been to a Pod. You could just change your