Daylight Runner by Oisin McGann Page B

recorded about him. That figured. Your business was ISS’s business, but their business was their own.
    Mercier scored a direct match, though. His past came up, displayed in text files and compressed images. There was nothing remarkable about him; his career had been mediocre, judging by the few medals and awards he had received. Sol decided to check his mail while he was online, and his father’s too.
    Sol’s in-box reflected his loner lifestyle. There was a single new message highlighted; he didn’t recognize the address. It looked like a one-off send, the kind people used to remain anonymous. Opening it, he found a short note.
    Sol. There are people looking for you—don’t go back to the apartment. Don’t go out alone; stay among people. You mustn’t try to find me, it’s too dangerous, but I’m sending someone to keep an eye on you. So you know who he is, he will be able to tell you your mother’s favorite song. You can trust him. Gregor.
    Sol looked around warily. Memorizing the address, just in case, he quickly deleted the message and closed down the mailbox. He was standing up to leave when the screen suddenly flashed white, and words in large, black block capitals began to float into view. At first he thought this message was being aimed directly at him, but all around the café, people were giving exclamations of surprise or disgust. The message was appearing on every screen: THE MACHINE IS DYING , it read. IT IS BEING EATEN FROM WITHIN. DO YOU CARE ENOUGH TO ASK WHY ?
    Sol looked out the windows of the café and saw that the same message was on the adscreens on the street outside. That meant it must be all over the city. Then, all at once, it flickered and was gone. Another message appeared, this one a standard screen-card from the Online Police with the city’s crest; accompanied by an authoritative voice, it informed everybody that the city’s web systems had just been subject to a virus attack. Normal service would be resumed presently, and the culprits would be tracked down and prosecuted.
    In a machine city coordinated by computers, viruses were a big deal. Anybody caught writing or sending them could expect a long stretch in prison. The Online Police could shut down whole sections of the city in search of a suspect if they needed to. It made the illegally posted message all the more intriguing. What did it mean? Solthought. “Being eaten from within”? Hefting his bag onto his shoulder, he made for the tram stop.
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    Ana was in the apartment when he got back, making a lunch of spirulina pie and promeat. She had made enough for him, and he mumbled his thanks as he took the plate. Avoiding his overattentive gaze, she coughed and sat down on the couch with her own food.
    â€œThe funeral for the two men in the crane accident is tomorrow,” she told him. “I thought you and the others might want to go.”
    Sol nodded. He didn’t care much about the men who had been killed, and he hated the Earth Center ever since his mother’s and sister’s funeral, but he might be able to find out more to help put his mind at rest about what had caused the accident. The image of the smashed crane carriage was still fresh, and the incident ate away at his brain.
    â€œThe police called,” she added quietly. “They want to speak to you again. Properly this time. I’ll go with you. We can do it after the funeral.”
    â€œWas it the CIS?” he asked.
    â€œISS. That man Ponderosa.”
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    The funeral procession was long, stretching back along the street. One man had been Muslim, the other Unitarian, and so there had been two separate services, but the bodies were carried in the same procession through the streetsto the Earth Center. It was the tradition in Ash Harbor for those who died together to be recycled together.
    Sol walked alongside Ana, careful to keep a discreet distance. His feelings for her had been getting