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.
"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.
0 comments:
Post a Comment