Free Synthetica by Rachel Pattinson Page B

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