The Blind Spot

by Michael Robertson

  The pause seemed to last an age as Frankie stared down at his feet. “I didn’t know you had a basement.”

  If Frankie found Horace, they’d be fucked. The Eye would be strung up. If that happened, not only would she lose her new friend, but she’d have no chance of finding the evidence to prevent this stupid war.

  “I … uh, I need to stash all my equipment somewhere.”

  Frankie laughed. “You really are a hoarder. I’d love to see what other gadgets you have.”

  Could Marcie knock Frankie out? The tight coil in her forearms promised a power that would take his head clean off his shoulders.

  “This is all of them,” the Eye said. He glanced at Marcie’s clenched fists.

  “But you just said you had more in the basement.” Frankie moved even closer, stamping harder this time. It let out another boom. “Are you hiding something from me?”

  His hands raised, the Eye shook his head. “No, of course not. What I’m saying is there are only spares down there.” He stamped on the hatch. Much more noise and they’d wake Horace.

  Frankie didn’t get the messages in his eyes like Marcie did. Did he know her enhancements were blocked in here? “They’re calling us back to the top table now,” she said. “It sounds urgent.”

  Frankie remained locked on the Eye.

  “Wrench must want something,” Marcie said.

  The man moved much quicker than Marcie expected. She jumped backwards when Frankie pointed his thick finger at the hacker. “We need to go now, but I want to see what’s in that basement when I come back, okay?”

  “Of course.” The Eye half-smiled. “I’ll make sure it’s nice and tidy for you.”

  Marcie’s shoulder stung when Frankie slammed into her on his exit from the workshop.

  Just as Marcie turned to leave, the Eye grabbed her left wrist and slipped a small piece of paper into her hand. She tucked it into her pocket as she moved off after Frankie.

  Maintaining a safe distance from the volatile man, Marcie followed Frankie through the red-light district. An almost nauseating mix of thudding basslines, garish neon, and every enhancement she could imagine, she weaved through the johns and slack-jaws, watching the ground so she didn’t have to see, our be seen, by one of Pierre’s family members. Especially Becky. Hard to look someone in the eye when you were responsible for their brother’s death.

  They were still a way away from the top table. Because Marcie needed to give the Eye as much time as possible, she’d wait until they were close before she told Frankie about the malfunction. The message she was seeing was one from yesterday. Not even a malfunction. Just user error. Sorry. They might have had a heart-to-heart about Sal, but when she finally told him of her mistake, he’d be furious.

  Chapter 39

  Expectant faces turned Nick’s way the second he entered the office. Sure, he might have been slightly more sombre today, but did they really expect him to be a performing monkey every time he entered the place? Everyone needed a day off. Although, to be fair, they had filled his app with lifts. He’d listened to forty-eight of them in the shower that morning. Forty-four from the people at work. Yet they were obliterated by the four at the end. Bruce and Karla, their guilty confessions finding their way to him under the guise of compliments.

  Since Karla had left, a lump had taken residence in Nick’s throat like a tumour. It almost hurt to smile, but he owed them that at the very least, nodding as he headed to his desk.

  Graham stepped from around the corner, a steaming mug in his hand. He stood between Nick and his destination. “What are you grinning at, you smug bastard?” His pulse throbbing in his ears, Nick pointed a finger at him. “You think you know it all, don’t you? That you have it all worked out. Just because you don’t use the Wellbeing app, you think that elevates you above the rest of us.”

  While shaking his head, Graham raised one of his hands as if trying to placate Nick and stepped back a pace.

  “Oh, I see, so now everyone’s watching, you’re pretending to be innocent rather than the antagonistic little prick you are? But you won’t fool me. You know exactly what you’re doing. I’ve got your number, pal.”

  The door to accounts creaked and all four women stepped out. Nick had planned on exposing the little prick anyway, so why not now? “You’re loving this, aren’t you? Seeing me fall and winding me up about the app. You say we shouldn’t worry about what other people think of us, that it’s none of our business, but I’ll tell you what, maybe if you thought about someone other than yourself for once, you might learn something. It’s called self-awareness; you should try it someday.”

  Adam appeared at Nick’s side, grabbed his arm, and led him past Graham to the coffee room.

  The door clicked shut and Adam drew the blinds. “What was that about? I know you’re sad, and I know you don’t agree with how Graham lives his life, but you can’t go off like that, mate. You’ll lose your job.”

  As Adam stepped close to Nick, Nick’s upper body locked tight. “It’s okay,” Adam said, hugging him. “It’s okay to be sad. Just try to channel it in a more positive way. Your job’s on the line here, and none of us want to lose you. You need to keep your head straight.”

  Chapter 40

  Were it not for Adam’s intervention, Nick would have lost his job because he wouldn’t have stopped with the insults. The rest of the day dragged, Graham avoiding Nick, and the rest of the staff cautious around him. They’d never treated him like that before, not that he could blame them.

  Maybe he should have gone straight home and given cricket practice a miss this week. But he loved it. He needed the release. And if he waited until he felt more settled, he’d lose his place in the team.

  At the fingerprint and retina scanner, Nick dropped his bag and rolled his shoulders. It did little to drive away the fatigue pumping through his veins. Carrying all his gear on the bus had been a workout in itself.

  As a light snow fell, Nick leaned close to the scanner and pressed his thumb against the pad. No fines because he hadn’t been there for the previous match.

  Before leaving work, Nick had dressed into his training gear. No way could he deal with the changing room today. He dropped his bag by the door and headed straight for the nets. Bruce stood ready to bat in front of a set of stumps.

  Some of the team had taken to the field to practice in their antigrav boots. They tossed balls impossibly high, the receivers catching them, some turning somersaults on the way down. But Nick didn’t go in for that. As a bowler, gravity was his friend.

  Without breaking stride, Nick picked up a ball from the basket and wrapped a tight grip around it. He quickened into a jog, then a sprint, and launched the ball at Bruce with a yell.

  Bruce spun around in time to raise his bat and whack the ball away. “What the fuck? You could have at least told me you were bowling!”

  Nick had another ball already, stepped back to get a run-up, and charged before launching it at his old friend.

  It bounced in front of Bruce, who ducked, the net behind him bulging, killing the ball’s momentum. “What the hell was that!”

  Squeezing the next ball as hard as he clenched his jaw and breathing through his nose, Nick took another run-up. He launched it straight at Bruce’s smug face.

  Bruce ducked again, threw his bat down, and charged at Nick.

  His feet planted, his fists balled, Nick raised his guard.

  But before Bruce reached him, Johnno, the vice captain, tackled Bruce out of the way, pinning him to the ground. As he lay on top of the writhing batsman, he turned to Nick. “I think you should give cricket a rest for a while, yeah? We can’t have you trying to kill people here.”

  Everyone had stopped training, and if Nick could have defended his behaviour, he would have. Instead, he turned his back on Bruce and Johnno and walked off. Maybe his cricket-playing days were over.

  Chapter 41

  It had been two days since Nick had lost it with Graham, and although they both came into wo
rk still, neither looked at the other. Thank god Adam had intervened when he did. No way could he give Graham the satisfaction of seeing him fired. And no way could he afford to live without an income, especially as he had to pay all the bills on his own now.

  “Hey, Nick,” Jane said, coming over to him and sitting on the edge of his desk. “We’re going to a Wellbeing bar at lunchtime, wanna come?”

  It took all of Nick’s strength to maintain eye contact, her long skirt pulled tight against her thighs from where she’d sat down. At any other time, Nick would have jumped at the chance. Who didn’t want to be invited to lunch by their friends? But before he shook his head, he stopped himself. “You know what? Yeah, I will come.” Still fixed on Jane’s winning smile and shining blonde hair, he said, “Thank you.”

  Her smile broadened. “Anytime.”

  Butterflies danced in Nick’s stomach when he walked into the Wellbeing bar. Always rammed, he twisted and turned to navigate the tight press of people there. He still had a lump in his throat, but he needed to keep it together. Keep it light; lunchtime drinks weren’t the occasion to mope around.

  Everyone had turned up. Even Graham. Maybe he should build some bridges with the kid.

  Before he reached his friends, Nick Ratt flashed up on the large screen dominating one of the bar’s walls. Everyone there turned his way, and the air came alive with praise. “We love you, Nick. You’re such a wonderful man. One of the kindest. One of the funniest.”

  So many compliments his head spun. Thank god the app recorded them because no way could he take them all in. Whatever else had happened this week, at least he still had his friends. Adam winked at him, smiled, and pretended to shoot him with a gun made with his fingers. Nick mouthed the words thank you at him.

  The names of all of their party flashed up on the screen over the course of the afternoon, and Nick joined in with the platitudes like they’d all done with him. Even Graham got involved. Maybe the kid wasn’t such a prick.

  “You’re a great pal, you know that?” Nick said to Adam when they sat down together.

  Adam winced.

  “What is it?”

  “I’ve got to tell you something.”

  Nick’s stomach lurched.

  “I’m leaving.”

  “What?”

  Nick’s outburst caused several people at a table close by to look at him.

  “I’ve been offered a better job. In the Apollo Tower.”

  “Fuck the Apollo Tower. What about Nick and Adam, Adam and Nick?”

  “I’m going to miss it, mate. I can’t imagine I’ll have as much fun in this new place.”

  But he would. Of course he would. When you were as funny as Adam, you’d go anywhere and have fun. “More credits, I assume?”

  “A shitload more. Believe me, it took a substantial pay rise to convince me to leave.”

  The gathering suddenly made sense. After clearing his throat, Nick said, “So this is your leaving do?”

  “Yeah, sorry to break it to you like this, mate.”

  “When are you leaving?”

  “Today.”

  The strength left Nick’s legs when he got to his feet, and he had to rest on the table to remain upright. Everyone knew about Adam leaving and no one had told him. They let him make a complete fool of himself. He’d walked into the bar like they’d put the drinks on for him.

  On his way to the door, Nick passed Graham, who smiled. “Hey, Nick, where are you going?”

  Balled fists and a clenched jaw, Adam’s words returned to him. He couldn’t lose his job over this little prick. “Do yourself a favour, yeah?”

  Graham waited for Nick to finish.

  “Try to get through this weekend without saying the word I. What do you reckon? You think you can do that, you self-centred prick?”

  Nick slammed into him as he left the bar, his shoulders tense, his chest tight. He’d been made to look like a fool. Again!

  Chapter 42

  Marcie flicked to night vision. No one else in the alley but her. As always. She bent down in front of the large wheelie bin, grabbed the tray she’d left attached to its underside, and pulled it out. Her flying suit and glasses were folded neatly in the shallow plastic drawer.

  The chill of the winter evening snapped her skin taut when she stripped to her joggers before getting dressed, pulling on her blue glasses last. After carefully folding her power suit and packing it into the tray, she laid her anonymity mask on top and returned it to its hiding place. Still no one else in the alley. And even if someone did appear, it would likely be an obsolete or a wandering slack-jaw. The slack-jaw probably wouldn’t even notice her, and the obsolete would find the bin welded shut so they couldn’t sleep in it. It now served as no more than a museum piece. A reminder of a time when households didn’t incinerate their own trash to heat their homes.

  “Yo, Cappo, you there?”

  The alleyway no more than two metres wide, Marcie bent her legs slightly and leaped at one of the walls. A jump of at least five metres, she bounced from one wall to the next, getting higher in stages. She caught the lip of the roof of the taller building and climbed onto it.

  Nowhere near as high as the Apollo Tower, but it still allowed her to view her beautiful city. Cars flew through the skylanes, their lights streaking across the night sky.

  “Marcie?”

  Her heart lifted. “Cappo, my god, is it good to hear your voice.”

  “It is?”

  “Sure.”

  “Dad said he was out with you the other day.”

  Marcie laughed. “Yeah, I thought we had a call and dragged him away from business. He wasn’t very happy with me. But he’s never happy with me.”

  “His bark is much worse than his bite.”

  “Hopefully I’ll never have to put that to the test.” After Marcie had told Frankie she’d fucked up about their call to the top table, he’d dismissed her and hadn’t spoken to her since. It gave her a chance to get back to the Eye, who assured her he’d gotten rid of Horace’s body. Just the thought of Pierre’s dead brother sent twinges through her stomach. She hadn’t killed him, but she certainly hadn’t helped.

  The Apollo Tower stood in the distance as a phallic testament to the city’s engineering. A white light glowed at the very tip. No drones or CCTV nearby, Marcie sprinted across the roof of the tower, gravel kicking up beneath her steps before she leaped.

  Boom! Marcie kicked off from a solo vehicle. No larger than a coffin, they shuttled their passengers lying down. The pod wobbled and several alarms sounded from where it threatened to deviate from its programmed route.

  The next vehicle, a fancy sports car, held up much better, the driver blaring an angry horn after her.

  “Where have you been?” Sal said.

  The wind rushed through Marcie’s hair, the cold air burning her cheeks. A red ring showed a CCTV drone over to her right. She pulled her arms in and dived, dropping down to the skylane below. The warning faded, another car beeping at her when she bounced from its roof towards the next vehicle. “I’ve tried to keep a low profile and not come out as much, with what happened the other day.”

  “Your getting caught on camera?”

  “If you could call it that. No way could they see anything from that far away.”

  “So why have you come out tonight? Do Wrench and my dad know?”

  “Of course not! You know they’ve put a ban on it now. But what they don’t know …” Another loud boom. No doubt the drivers thought she did damage every time she hit a car. They weren’t to know her legs took the power from the blow. In all her time running through the city, she hadn’t dented a single vehicle. “I’ve missed you,” she said.

  “Now you’re not trapped in the house, you can come to see me whenever you like.” Click, whir. “You’re always welcome.”

  Yeah, right! How could she be anywhere near Frankie with what she knew about him? If only she could tell Sal everything. What would it do to him when she did? His dad—his
hero—was the rat trying to take the Blind Spot down. “I wanted to take you out tonight. My two most favourite things in this life are running through the city and talking to you. It’s heaven to combine them.”

  Marcie reached out and caught the ledge of the building she’d aimed for before clambering up. “I love weekends in the city.” The crunch of the roof’s gravel beneath her feet, she crossed to the other side. Higher than before and closer to the Apollo Tower. The streets and walkways were alive with activity. Bars, restaurants, clubs, festivals. They partied with class here. Not like the Blind Spot. The mindless fucks partied like parasites there. As she gave Sal a panoramic view of the city, she said, “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’ve really missed you, Sal.”

  “I’ve missed you too.”

  How would this all end when she called out his dad? A shake of her head, it did little to relieve her gnawing anxiety, but helped shift her focus for now. While the city partied farther away, many of the buildings around her current tower were quiet on account of being residential. A couple sat in the garden of one of the houses. They had large heaters making it possible to be out no matter how cold. At a table opposite one another, they had candles and roses between them. They were close to finishing their meal. She zoomed in on them.

  Sal must have done the same through the camera in her glasses. “It looks like a nice life, doesn’t it?”

  Marcie nodded. “It looks simple. To live with the person you love without any drama.” She zoomed in so close she saw their lips moving.

  “What do you think they’re saying to one another?” Sal said.

  “I love you,” Marcie said and, before he could reply, added, “They’re probably planning their future. Talking about how many children they’ll have, how they’ll get a larger house for them all, better jobs, growing old together.”

  A series of stuttered gasps whispered to her and her throat tightened. Click, whir. If she could have cried, she would have. She’d join him in mourning a future they’d never experience. And maybe she’d grow out of it like so many condescending adults had told her. Maybe she’d look back on her time of loving Sal and see it as nothing more than the overactive hormones of a child. But that made no difference now. When the nonsense between the city and the Blind Spot passed, she’d walk away from the future they’d talked about for as long as she could remember.