The Blind Spot
A Dystopian Cyberpunk Novel - Neon Horizon Book One
Michael Robertson
Contents
Edited and Cover by:
Reader Group
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
The Shadow Order - Chapter One
About the Author
Reader Group
Also by Michael Robertson
Edited by:
Terri King - http://terri-king.wix.com/editing
And
Pauline Nolet - http://www.paulinenolet.com
Cover Design by Dusty Crosley
Michael Robertson
© 2019 Michael Robertson
The Blind Spot is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, situations, and all dialogue are entirely a product of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously and are not in any way representative of real people, places or things.
Any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
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Chapter 1
Nick stepped forward as Bruce moved aside. Large clouds of condensation billowed in front of him from the early morning winter air. He leaned close to the retina scanner, but not too close. So many people didn’t care, pressing their faces right up to the rubber eye mask. It was like rubbing noses with thousands of strangers. Every time he got to within a few inches of it, the skin at the base of his neck pulled tight and he could almost see the bacteria.
The small green light signalled for Nick to press the fingerprint scanner. It rewarded him with a second green light and the turnstile opened. As he walked through, he fished an antibacterial wipe from his bag, cleaned his face first and then his hands before discarding it on the ground. There were no bins in Scala City. Who needed bins when you had an army of lower-class citizens to clean the streets? And they did a wonderful job.
Suited worker after suited worker entered the square with the clacking ring of operating turnstiles, a symphony of productivity. Nick filled his lungs with the cool and fresh air. Wellbeing Square had the best air purifiers in the city. Not only did they crank up the oxygen levels, but they laced the atmosphere with a small hint of menthol and eucalyptus. Vehicles were also banned from using the skylanes directly above—the only place in the city afforded that privilege because of how it negatively impacted the ambiance. Everywhere else, hover cars zipped around like flies on amphetamines.
The plaza stretched over one thousand square metres, and the sides were lined with skyscrapers. On the weekend, it became a playground for pigeons. So abandoned, it turned post-apocalyptic. But at times like this, it could have been twice the size and would have still felt cramped.
Bruce elbowed his way free of the crowd bottlenecking to enter the square. “What are you grinning at?”
“I love being here. We’re among the lucky few who have jobs and get to come here to do them. That’s something to be grateful for.”
Although Bruce smiled, the dull glow of fatigue in his blue eyes revealed his true feelings.
“We’re the lucky ones, Bruce. This”—Nick spun around—“is living. We have the very best Scala City has to offer.”
The skyscrapers stood like sentries. The early morning sun bounced off their chrome exteriors and mirrored windows. Corporate mecca; they were in the financial heart of the city. And they’d all worked hard to get here. They deserved it.
A scream cut through Nick’s reverie. A strip of gooseflesh ran down his spine. Over to his right, a street cleaner stumbled before slamming into a woman in a power suit, her blonde hair puffy like a meringue. The man who’d shoved the cleaner continued on as if nothing had happened.
“Hey!” Nick said.
The man spun around. Blotchy skin and with black bags beneath his eyes, his decadent life fitted him better than his straining suit. “What?”
The street cleaner had flushed red with embarrassment. Nick said, “You just knocked into her.”
“And?”
“Take a look around, you ungrateful bastard.” Although Bruce pulled on Nick’s arm, Nick held his ground. “We’re in one of the most beautiful spots in Scala City. The cleaners help keep it that way. Show some appreciation for what they do.”
The man looked from Nick to the street cleaner before returning a shrug to Nick.
Hundreds of pairs of eyes on him, even Bruce had put some distance between them. Not a cause he’d win in a place like this. Who gave a shit about street cleaners? They were lucky to have a job. The cretins should be grateful they weren’t turned into obsoletes and discarded like the litter they picked.
More than ample time for Nick to reply, when he didn’t, the man shook his head, turned around, and walked off in the direction he’d been heading.
One by one, the audience broke away.
As the square returned to its bustling best, the street cleaner dipped an almost imperceptible nod at Nick before she picked up a piece of litter dropped directly next to her wheeled bin by a passing commuter.
“You’ve got to stop doing that,” Bruce said. “It’s embarrassing.”
Although Nick and Bruce stood eye to eye, both of them about five feet ten inch
es, Nick carried at least five stones more weight than his friend. Suited, slim, and sharp, the always immaculate Bruce could have walked through a tornado without a displaced hair. Coolness personified, and he always had been. Nick, on the other hand, sweated when he walked to the toilet and back. But he was on a diet, and this one would work. He shook his head, his heart hammering and his voice shaking. “I’m sorry, but I won’t have it. The cleaners are important. They keep this place beautiful. I just can’t stand to see them treated like shit.”
Bruce shrugged.
Nick fell into step at his friend’s side. The lull in their conversation gave him the perfect time to send some lifts into the world. He chatted to himself like many of those around him. “I’m so lucky to have Karla in my life. She’s kind, beautiful, smart.”
With his brow locked in a frown, Bruce quickened his pace, weaving through the crowd.
If Nick were the only one doing it, he’d understand, but a thousand words of gratitude filled the cold winter air. Lucky, blessed, kind, smart, clever … Many of them were sending their lifts out early and, like Nick, many of them were smiling. But none wore a grin as broad as his. And why shouldn’t he be happy? The oxygenated air, the gratitude, coming to work with his best friend like he did every day. What more could he want?
“You should really get a car, you know?” Bruce squinted against the bright sun, focusing ahead rather than on Nick. “I worry about how early you have to start work every day because you come in with me. You must give your company days and days of free labour every year.”
A wave of his hand as if batting the comment away, Nick laughed. “Don’t worry about that, buddy. Work looks after me. Steve’s such a great boss. He always appreciates me running that extra mile. Besides, as a manager, it sets a good example to the others.” Before Bruce could say anything else, Nick added, “I like seeing you each day. I get to ride into work with my best and oldest friend.” More words from those around him. Amazing. Wonderful. Thoughtful. Beautiful. “Is it the cost?” he asked. “Do you want me to contribute to the car’s electricity? Or maintenance?”
While laughing, Bruce shook his head. “No, it’s not the money at all. It’s just …” He scanned the crowd before lowering his voice. “I might not always be able to give you lifts to work.”
“Why?”
Together they avoided a group of suited women with briefcases. Seven of them, they walked in a V formation, cutting through the crowd, the clicking of their heels delivering the threat of a ticking time bomb. Get in their way and they’d go atomic.
“A real estate agent has offered to buy my property. It’s a good offer from a big firm. I’m wondering if now’s the right time for me to give up and sell, you know? I could do with a career change, and it’s a lot of money. You and I both know I’m making nothing in recruitment. The industry isn’t what it used to be.”
“With there being very few jobs and all,” Nick said.
“And those jobs decreasing in number daily.”
Nick smiled to combat his sagging face. That was what friends did, right? They supported one another, even when they wanted to be selfish. “That’s amazing, mate! I’m so happy for you. It sounds like a great opportunity. I think you should take it. Will you get back into programming?”
“No.”
“But you were great at it at school. I mean, child prodigy great.”
“That’s the problem. Remember when I got into trouble for hacking into the central government computers?”
“When you got served with a net ban?”
As one, they both jumped back, a man on an electric scooter dissecting their conversation on his soundless vehicle. “Those things are too fast for pedestrianised areas,” Nick said as it moved away. “He’s going to—”
The man on the scooter slammed into a cleaner, sending both of them sprawling.
The cleaner apologised, pressing his hands together and bowing at the man, who let rip. “You idiot! Why don’t you look where you’re going? You’re lucky to even be in this square. Don’t make me complain to your boss.”
Bruce grabbed Nick’s arm and pulled him away. He’d already embarrassed them once today. “Well, that net ban was for life.”
The cleaner stood up. He looked okay.
“You never told me that.”
“I was ashamed. I let my ego get in the way because I wanted to prove to everyone how good I was at hacking. It cost me my dream career.”
“And a shitload of money.”
“Don’t remind me. I think it’s why I’ve never done well in recruitment. My heart’s never been in it. I should count myself lucky, really. If Dad didn’t have so many contacts, I would be an obsolete by now.”
Wellbeing Square hadn’t always had that name. Its current sponsors were the richest company in Scala City. And they deserved it because they’d created the Wellbeing app. A large Wellbeing Incorporated booth had become a permanent fixture in the centre of the square. Flags at each corner, they stood at least five metres tall, dancing in the wind above the chaotic crowd. They bore the company’s name in red writing on a yellow background.
Nick nodded in the direction of the booth. Best to focus on that than his friend potentially leaving. “Do you think there’s been any updates overnight?”
After glancing at his watch, Bruce then patted Nick on the shoulder. “I’m not sure, mate, but I need to dash. Do me a favour; if there’s anything worth talking about, let me know, yeah?”
Releasing another large cloud of condensation, Nick deflated as his friend walked away. He then filled his lungs and pulled his shoulders back. He could travel to work on his own. Bruce would always be there for him. They’d been pals for over twenty years. They played cricket together and hung out socially. They were friends for life. Nothing would get in the way of that.
“I’m so lucky to have Bruce in my life.” The Wellbeing app even picked up on nicknames. And a good job because Bruce rarely introduced himself as Adrian Swint to anyone. How sad would it be if he never heard all the wonderful things said about him? “Bruce is such a pal. He’s always been there for me. Sticking up for me at school against the bullies and making my life so much better.”
As he moved among the people, Nick went through his morning routine, sending lifts out to one friend after the other for the Wellbeing app to gather. “Adam is the funniest man I know. He makes me laugh every day. My life’s so much richer for having him in it. Jane has such a kind heart. The strength she has to be there for everyone blows my mind.” Even when he didn’t feel the words, just the thought of the impact they’d have on his friends lifted him. The genius of the Wellbeing app: the reciprocal elevation of everyone’s happiness. What would life be without friends to be kind to? What would life be without the Wellbeing app?
As Nick got closer to the Wellbeing booth, he tried to see through the throng of commuters. Wednesday mornings usually meant Wellbeing Wendy. The boy dressed in the yellow and red of his employer certainly wasn’t her. His name badge read Wayne. Clearly just out of school, what the hell did he know about the company and the app? Nick shook his head to himself. He shouldn’t write the boy off without giving him a chance. Don’t judge a book and all that. Besides, kids today knew more about programming than Nick would ever learn, even if he dedicated the rest of his life to the cause.
Hooked up to the PA system, the boy wore a wide grin as he hopped onto the booth. Some of the tension left Nick’s shoulders. At least he shared Wendy’s enthusiasm.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the boy called out, his oversized shirt flapping from the fans set up on the booth to make the flags shimmer. “It’s Wednesday morning and we’re excited to announce some midweek updates to the Wellbeing app. Those of you on the ball probably already know what we’ve done.”
Although Nick could have looked in-app for the latest update news, he liked to hear it from Wellbeing Wendy.
“An update that’s long overdue …” the boy said. “We now let users save as many lift
s as they like. There will be a sliding scale of charges based on data usage. But before we start charging, we’ve increased how many you can get for free. Wellbeing premium subscribers can now save five hundred lifts rather than one hundred.”
Every day, Nick faced the challenge of which lifts to save. Although, he’d probably reach five hundred in no time and have the same dilemma all over again.
The crowd increased in number, all of them hanging on the boy’s every word. The boy cleared his throat, but when he opened his mouth to speak, the words never came.
A roar like a giant beast inhaling, the wind pulled Nick and everyone else a step closer to the booth.
A dazzling glare, it lit the square like the sun.