Synthetica by Rachel Pattinson

Author:Rachel Pattinson [Pattinson, Rachel]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Published: 2015-04-01T05:00:00+00:00

It was only polite, after all, that one informed someone when their services were no longer required.

So it was completely beyond him why Denzel was on his knees, begging and crying. It didn't evoke any sympathy in him; if anything it simply made him more contemptuous.

Or maybe it had something to do with the knife in his hand. Every time Denzel glanced at it, he burst into renewed sobs.

“P-please, just give me a chance, give me a chance. You'll have your money from the deal, I wasn't keeping from you, I swear, I swear. An' I sold six more of those chips today and I told 'em that if they had any friends, to send them my way. Word's getting out – I just need a little more time. Just a bit longer. Please, please...” Denzel seemed inconsolable as he dissolved into tears.

His brow creased as he tried to imagine what was going through this pitiful man's head. And then he decided he didn't particularly care.

“Get. Up.”

His voice was soft, but he still saw Denzel flinch at the hoarseness of it, at how wrong it sounded. He was used to people recoiling at his voice. He didn't care so long as they still listened to what he had to say. Denzel gave a loud sniff and forced himself to his feet.

He took a step towards Denzel, and Denzel cowered back.

“You can keep the money.”

Denzel looked as though he couldn't believe his ears.

“W-what?”

“This was never about the money. I have no use for it. Keep it.”

Relief washed over Denzel's face and he began to gush in his relief.

“Thank you, thank you, I -”

“Why are you thanking me?”

Denzel stopped. His gaze kept flicking back to the knife.

“I am running out of time. And patience. You told me you could sell. Each and every one. Of those programs within a week. You have not. Lived up to my expectations. You have failed me.”

Denzel remained silent, stealing terrified glances between the knife and the masked face in front of him.

“I have no use for failures.”

He lifted up the knife and Denzel squealed, stumbling backwards and falling onto the floor.

“No – no! Please! I can still help you! Those programs – they're amazing, I ain't never seen a copy that good before. They're just like the real thing would be. I can sell them, I swear, I swear!”

He paused.

“You really. Think they're that good?” His voice was still as soft as he could make it.

Denzel nodded furiously.

“They're real good. They'd pass any test, honest.” Denzel's voice was almost a squeak in his terror.

He looked down at Denzel grovelling on the floor. He was almost tempted to tell Denzel what his programs actually did – how they were so much more than anything Civitas could ever dream of. But then he decided it would be much more fun to show him.

“Denzel,” his hoarse voice was quiet but the cruel, amused undertone was unmistakable.

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