Adlai had never understood faith. His parents had it, the priest he used to spend Sundays ignoring had it, the other parishioners seemed to have it, even his friends, who acted just as bored and put upon as he did, even they seemed to have it. They all believed without question.

He used to put it down to the fact that he was much smarter than everyone else. He was right, they were wrong, simple as that. Age had erased that foothold. There’s only so long you can go on ignoring the achievements of others without facing the facts. He wasn’t special, or different, or better. He was average, just like everyone else. So why couldn’t he believe?

He was sure if he concentrated hard enough he could pull it off. Convince himself. Trouble was he couldn’t even bring himself to pretend. What was the point? What comfort did these people get from believing in something so far from being proven, so unworldly? Where was their curiosity?

It didn’t matter which religion you were talking about, whether you spent time in synagogues, mosques or churches, the central idea of faith seemed to be the same. Belief without the possibility of proof. What was he missing that everyone else had, this need to have something to believe in?

As he got older and circumstances changed, it never made any more sense. As the VR universes squirmed into people’s daily routines he watched just another example of it. People spent hours, days at a time in worlds not of their creation, convincing themselves of its reality. Sure the hardware, the improved graphics and speed made it an easier pill to swallow, but when you got down to it people believed because they wanted to. They needed to. VR worked because everyone wanted to believe. It was easier to believe.

They used to tell stories of the suffering of the saints, gruesome, bloody tales of death and torture suffered as a consequence of not renouncing faith. They were just the thing to keep eleven-year-old boys interested in church. But to Adlai, faith was the easy part. Once you had an answer, it was much harder to question it and leave yourself staring at the abyss than simply believing and having your hand held.

The viral growth of VR wasn’t surprising for exactly this reason. Convincing yourself there’s a higher power judging, watching and looking after you was no different from believing in the realities you slotted yourself into day after day. They used to call it a revolution, but not Adlai. Forsaking one reality, one set of fictions for another was no surprise. It was entrenched in human nature.

Adlai needed more than just the opportunity to believe. He needed help silencing that annoying little voice that kept popping up and asking questions, the one that kept snapping him back from happiness. There had been different incarnations over the years, but he’d found one now that looked like it could be with him for the long haul.

He took another drink.

She’d watched the cops scan the area, pacing back and forth, sucking up every last bit of sense data. Cops never did get it. You couldn’t trust facts out here. This was the jungle, you had to rely on instinct. It told her the body of the driver was gone, long before they cleaned up the wreck and discovered it for themselves.

Cass turned away and stared off into the distance at the dull glow that was the Grid, reaching out to her through the rain, promising warmth and safety and a sterile life. There was no way back there now. Maybe that’s where both the driver and Quarters had ended up. Returned to the first level, having to fight their way up and out. She knew that wasn’t true. They were gone.

There was nothing for it but to head deeper off Grid. She had some skills, she could survive on her own, at least for a while.

The drumming hum of the rain lulled her senses as she wandered. It felt right to lose herself, feel her consciousness spread out like the surface of a lake. Tense, clean, waiting for the first ripple.

And there it was. She could feel it at the base of her spine. Not hear it, but feel the sound, the presence. The threat. That didn’t take long.

The hunters were out. They must have noticed the commotion, maybe even contacted the cops themselves, they were known to have links where they shouldn’t. Someone had noticed her and they’d been sent out to get rid of any witnesses. She was prey now, fresh meat.

Meat. That was how she felt, her body strange and unfamiliar, like something had been released when Quarters had disappeared into that figure’s arms. There was an electricity running through her veins. She looked the same, dressed the same, but she was alive. More alive than ever.

Cass felt a clattering reach across the air towards her as one of the hunters stumbled in an alley next to hers. She would have to move quickly if she was to escape. Above her was a dark opening where a window used to be, only six feet in the air. She sprang up into it, not bothering to use her hands, and paused in the shadows.

From her vantage point she could see a lone hunter wander around the corner and start down the alley. There was a dangerous edge around him, an absolute hunger. His fangs flashed. Cass shrank back further into the shadows, though she knew he couldn’t see her. Wait for him to walk through then skip out behind him and away. There was no reasoning with this animal.

She closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing. Slow it down. Calm. Quiet as a mouse.

Her foot nudged something, and her eyes snapped open to search the shadows at her feet. There it was. The curved blade at her feet seemed to reach out to her hand as she bent down to wrap her fingers around it.

As she brought it up to her face the dim light from the street flitted across its edge and stopped the breath in her lungs. It was beautiful. It gleamed with power and threat and something more. Cool efficiency. The hunter himself faded into the background behind its glow. And suddenly she knew there would be no running away.

The hunter paused halfway down the alley. She could sense his indecisiveness, his frustration. He was about to turn and leave. Cass looked down at her feet again, she somehow knew to, and saw a glass shard lying near her boot. She slid it off the edge of the sill with her toe.

The shatter made the hunter tense immediately and stride towards the sound. The desperation, the hunger had overcome his doubt and fear. Cass found herself smiling as he approached.

When he was standing directly beneath her she felt a moment of hesitation, no more. Baulking at what she was about to do. She knew it was the last time she’d ever feel guilt or doubt again.

Cass sprang down onto his shoulders, feet first, crumpling him to the ground. She curved backwards towards his prone legs and sliced the blade as deep as she could, quickly, across the tendons on the back of his knees.

She felt a shudder pass through his body, but no sound. The pain hadn’t had a chance to register, and it wouldn’t.

In one movement she kicked down the arm that was reaching up at her, pinning it to the street, and sliced the blade up his side, across the shoulders and deep into the side of his neck. It only took a moment for his body to relax into death.

And then it was done. She stood and leapt back into the darkness of her hiding spot, out through the dark, ruined building, across the rooftops and away.

It wasn’t until she was streets away that she realised she was smiling.

Dark shadows lurked on both sides of the street as Babbage wandered further off Grid. He walked down the centre of the lane, head down, hands thrust into pockets, eyes narrowed into slits, lost in his own world. After a while he began to whistle.

Nothing conscious, just a simple tune that was stuck in his head. A few notes, round and round, never reaching an obvious end. Stretching themselves one into the other.

A loud clatter to his left stopped him, and he turned in time to see an old metal garbage can roll across the gutter.

“Looks like we may have some company. Don’t let it bother you now, Adlai. Whoever it is, if they particularly want to see me they’ll get out here eventually. Just keep the old eyes open.”

Babbage liked to encourage a passive outlook on life, particularly when it came to his own safety. It made things more interesting.

Fifty metres further on he heard a light foot skip across the road behind him, but fought the urge to turn around. Not long now.

“Have I told you before about the natives out here, Adlai? Unpleasant folk, most of them. Dangerous. Have to keep your eyes open and your hand close to your wallet. Not to mention your gun. Still, let’s see if we can’t tempt this one out with a little bait.”

He swung his coat out and over his hip, revealing a heavy looking pouch hanging from his belt.

“This one’s no real threat, otherwise we would have been hit by now. My guess is a pickpocket, a street urchin. Gets by on what he can steal. Don’t let appearances fool you though my boy, some of them can be particularly nasty.”

There was a whisper of movement and Babbage spun sharply to his left and grabbed a young wrist just before it cut the belt on his hip. At the same time he stepped out and away from the other arm and caught it as it swung in a wide, lazy hook. Sure enough, a kid.

“Well hello there, my boy. Looking for something?”

Babbage squeezed the thin wrist and a clatter told him the blade in the boy’s hand was no longer a danger. He pulled the would-be pickpocket closer to get a good look at his face. He was young, probably only ten or so, underneath what looked like fifteen years of dirt.

The boy struggled but got nowhere. Babbage held on patiently and waited for him to tire. If there was one thing he’d learnt in his years on the force, it was that nothing occurred by accident. Everything led to an answer, you just had to be open enough to see it.

“Lemme go!”

“Ah, he speaks!”

He looked down at the road and saw the curved blade the boy had swung gleaming back at him. Nasty things. He’d seen their type before. A quick kick and the evil looking weapon bounced off into the darkness of the nearest alleyway.

“Now what would a young man like yourself be doing with a thing like that? Trying to cut my belt, obviously. Hopefully not trying to cut anything else.”

The boy had been straining for the blade, but now that it was gone the madness seemed to leave him and he stopped struggling. The blade hadn’t had a hold of him completely. He must have only found it recently for its effect to pass so quickly.

“Please, sir, I just need money for my father. He’s sick, sir. I’m sorry, sir.”

“Enough with the ‘sir’s. Sick you say? What’s the matter with him?”

“We don’t know, sir, I mean, he just lies there, like he’s asleep.”

Babbage let his wrists go and the boy sprang back and away. Three steps further and he was pulled off his feet, ending up on the ground, staring up at the sky, wondering what had just happened. The thin wire lasso wrapped around one wrist glinted in the streetlights.

“Incredibly useful things those cuffs. Police issue, don’t you know. You won’t be able to get too far, unless I run out the line a little.” He pulled back his coat to reveal the source of the line in a small spool on his hip. “Besides, I thought you wanted me to help someone?”

Seeing he was stuck, the young pickpocket relaxed again.

“Yes sir, my uncle.”

“Your uncle now is it? Regular epidemic running through your family isn’t there?”

It was obvious the kid was lying, but there was something behind it. Probably just wanted to lure him off into the dark somewhere, into some sort of trap, somewhere him and his friends could clean him out and disappear. No, certainly wouldn’t be a good idea to go with him.

“Still, when did good ideas get you anywhere, hmm?”

“Sir?”

“Come on, son, get up. I need you to lead the way.”

The boy’s eyes positively lit up and he sprang to his feet. Probably couldn’t believe his luck. He’d have to work on his poker face if he was going to last long out here. Not all his victims would be so cavalier.

Adlai was in trouble. He ducked back down behind the thick concrete pylon as the bullets zipped by overhead. They were still coming. He’d been stuck here for hours now, trying to fight his way back to the lines, back to his group, but he wasn’t making any headway.

He poked his eyes back around the corner and waited for the dust to settle. There. A slight movement, not thirty metres from where he lay. A black metal helmet bobbing in the dirt.

He slid his rifle out from underneath his body and took aim. There was no use waiting anymore, his team had obviously given him up for dead. May as well cause some trouble while he still could.

He took aim and concentrated on the sights. The crosshairs slid across the target as his muscles tensed. Concentrate on your breathing. Let your finger squeeze the trigger.

The helmet disintegrated in a shower of red and black pieces as the bullet ripped through it. Adlai smiled to himself, then sprang to his feet and ran, leaving the rifle where it lay. It couldn’t help him now.

Angry cries flew out from the trenches behind him as he ran. They must be able to see him by now, he wasn’t that quick, not yet. Moments later the first shots thudded into the dirt around him as he skipped through the rubble. Not that fast, but fast enough.

He was due East of the Boulevard. His gang had driven into the territory in a rough wedge, then fallen apart as they became surrounded and scattered. They’d become overconfident again, pushed too far, always trying to dance along that edge, where the real thrills lay. They were all still too young to know better.

Another bullet cracked into the concrete beside his head as he zipped past another broken building. They were getting closer, probably trying to drive him into some sort of trap. He had to be smarter than they were. Smarter and faster.

He concentrated his will and focused. There was a six foot high wall ahead of him, coming closer every step. He could do this.

More cries sounded behind him. This was the one chance left. Time seemed to slow as he approached the wall, his senses taking everything in. Three more steps, then a leap, simple as that. He could picture what was going to happen. He was there.

The bullet blew through his knee and crippled him in an instant, his forward momentum bringing him sliding through the dirt to tumble to rest against the base of the wall. It would have been funny if it wasn’t so painful. He raised his head up and could just make out the figures striding towards him through the dust. A gun pointing towards him, then the fire of the port burning him back into reality.

Adlai reached behind his ear and scratched the scar where his data port used to be. It often tingled when he thought about it. They’d been a big step at the time, at least for some. The kids had embraced it, the removal of another obstacle between themselves and the ultimate VR experience. Soon it became unusual not to have one.

The older generation, like his parents, had declined. He suspected they still saw VR as a circus, an amusing sideshow, definitely not worth cracking your head open for. He’d tried convincing them that age was no longer an excuse, that they could be whatever age they wanted in the expanding universes inside the ports, but they no longer wanted to change. They’d stepped out of time.

They died together and he imagined they were happier for it. He spent his mourning period lost in other people’s multiplying realities.

Multiply they did. He wasn’t the only misfit to find the possibilities of VR intriguing. As it grew, as more designers and tinkers came on board, each pulling in a different direction, the outside world began to take control. It had happened with every other medium in human history, VR was no different. Endless possibilities were far too dangerous to be left in the hands of just anyone. Better they were centrally controlled. That was where the Grid began.

The Boulevard relied on hardware, so those who owned the hardware banded together to take control. The Grid became the main gathering place, more and more power sucking into it, dimming other areas in comparison. The casual user never stepped outside of its boundaries. Pretty soon for most people it was VR. Every port led into it. He who controlled the Grid controlled the universe.

For Adlai and the other hardcore users it was anathema, the exact opposite of what VR was supposed to be all about. They found themselves pushed out into the dark corners, scrambling for power and space, fighting among themselves, games turning into real battles for supremacy. The golden age was over.

Adlai took a drink and stared at the line of bottles behind the bar. They’re a corporation too. You don’t seem to mind being under their control.

He gripped his glass tighter but took another drink just the same.

So he wasn’t as principled as he once was, so what? It’s called growing up. You get more jaded and accepting until one day you look around and realise you’re an adult and it’s too late to pull yourself out. He couldn’t be bothered getting angry anymore.

What was the problem anyway? So the powers are distant and faceless – remind you of anyone? Who was it that said you could never take a picture of God?

The worshippers didn’t seem to mind. The Grid grew and grew until you had … until you had this.

Adlai looked out the window at the darkness and the greasy rain. A pale glow hovered on the horizon. The Grid. Sucking energy into it, leaving the rest of the world in cold darkness. It was self perpetuating. The uglier the real world got, the more time you spent online escaping it, which led to the real world just getting uglier.

He rubbed his scar again. He’d cut that umbilical cord. Spirituality, escape wasn’t controlled by anyone else but him, not anymore. God was no longer in a cage.

Now he was in a bottle.

The air was wet and dirty as Babbage strode down the lane. He liked the feel of the rain on his face. It woke him up. It felt real.

“All of this, Adlai, all these ruins, this poverty and emptiness, its all real. It’s exciting, don’t you think? I haven’t felt this way since I was your age, just a young graduate. Since the last time I was out here, actually.”

“Have you been assigned out here before, sir?”

“Oh yes, every now and then there’s real work to be done, real investigations to be had. Real problems to solve. It all happens off Grid. Those robots we left earlier are no good out here. Can’t think for themselves you see. No natural ability.”

Babbage tried to soak all the sensations in. He had to begin to understand the area again.

“This is what real detective work is, my young man. Get into the role. Understand the environment to the point that you notice the small imperfections, the differences that point you in the right direction. Then you pick up the clues.”

He placed his hands behind his back and strolled casually down the centre of the road. No danger of cars out here. The victim’s must have been the first in years. The victim. Kane Sanderson. Musician. Well off, single, no known complications in his life. What the hell was he doing off Grid?

If he had certain tastes which couldn’t be serviced privately at home – though those were getting few and far between these days – he could still have found something closer in. Money wasn’t a problem. Besides, that wouldn’t explain the crash. No, that wasn’t the way to be thinking.

The question is not why, it is where. Where was he going?

Babbage stopped in the middle of the street.

“You know, son, I think we need to spend some real time out here. If I can trust my instincts, and I think that I can, then this is one of those cases where we need to let the clues come to us. We need to throw caution to the wind as it were, jump in the deep end, all that stuff.”

“Get into some trouble, sir?”

“Quite right, Adlai! Quite right. But first I suppose I should follow the correct procedures. You don’t mind of course, it’s just that the captain frowns on me bringing others in with me when I make my reports.”

Babbage reached into his coat and brought out a small plug which he inserted into the port just behind his ear.

Immediately he found himself in a small waiting room outside a large oak door. It was bare except for a lone, uncomfortable-looking chair and a small desk complete with secretary. She was a bit too attractive to be real.

“The captain will see you in just a moment.”

She spoke the words without looking up from the ancient typewriter she was clattering away on. Why the captain felt the need to indulge in such a dated answering machine was beyond him.

Just then the large doors swung open and the secretary spoke again.

“The captain will see you now.”

He almost said thanks, but remembered he was talking to a machine. A machine with great calves, but a machine nonetheless. He enjoyed the view as he wandered past her into the dark of the captain’s office. Maybe he did have a point.

“That’s enough of that, Babbage.”

The gruff voice reached out and pulled him into the room. Babbage found himself standing straighter, a reaction which always annoyed him but one he could do little about.

The captain was, as always, sitting behind an enormous slab of oak, completely bare except for a single electric lamp with a dark green shade. It gave off almost no light, but then it probably wasn’t meant to. It was there to create menacing shadows.

“You need to learn to watch those thoughts of yours, son, especially when you’ve invited someone in to share them with you.”

The captain motioned to the lone chair opposite but Babbage shook his head and continued to stand. It always made him uncomfortable to be sitting in VR while his body was standing out there. Made him feel slightly queasy.

“Anything to report?”

“Nothing so far, Captain, that’s why I’m here. I’d like to request some extended time off Grid.”

That brought a reaction, if only a slight shift of weight as the captain leant forward.

“Any particular reason?”

“I think it would help with the case, sir. Basically I think we’re looking at this the wrong way. We need to find the wheres and whys, the motive behind the events. Besides, there are enough other detectives around to do the drudge work.”

The captain rewarded this with a long stare.

“You know something, Babbage? You think entirely too much to still be a detective. I’m sure I’ve mentioned this before.”

Babbage kept his mind blank and waited. No use getting into trouble.

“Approved. But I want full and regular reports, from you alone, you understand? The less I know about your peculiar habits the better. Dismissed.”

The captain dropped his head back down and Babbage turned to leave.

“And Babbage? Leave my secretary alone on the way out will you?”

Babbage pulled himself back into reality and pocketed the plug. He took a deep breath and looked around. He was at an intersection, all four streets looked exactly the same. One was as good as any other.

“Come along, Adlai, let’s see what kind of trouble we can get into.”