The rain lashed the windscreen of Jack Nugent’s standard issue Tesla self-drive utility vehicle. They could make a car go 1,500 miles on a single charge, but hadn’t invented a better way of keeping the windscreen clear when it rains than a moving rubberised stick back and forth.
The rain muddied the view from the front seat, the colour palette of modern Britain was a muted affair, the long-promised global warming had rendered the UK a concrete swamp. It could be worse, much of the mid-west of the US had long-since been abandoned after the economics of fifty years of austerity and climate change had allowed the inevitable march of desert to consume depressed conurbation after depressed conurbation.
The car was headed to Hartcliffe, an area of Bristol that patrol cars knew well since it housed the unwanted, unwashed and unloved members of society. If a crime had been committed in Bristol then the chances were that it’s tendrils had touched more than one low life in this necessary battery farm for the city’s few affluent citizens.
Detective Jack Nugent couldn’t count himself as a member of the privileged few, for his role occupied the hinterland of public sector necessities along with teachers, nurses and the rest of the population whose lives existed to serve the rich ruling classes, hopefully doing enough to avoid slipping into the swelling underbelly of poverty which now passed by his vehicle.
The headlights swept the perimeter wall of the facility that he had been called out to. GeoNosYs was the company that had changed the world. An offshoot of Bristol University that’s work in DNA re-engineering made the modern world possible. The irony of the fact that its headquarters sat amidst this hellhole of poverty wasn’t lost on the tired and disillusioned detective.
As the headlights brushed the forty foot high walls of the facility it illuminated the buildings uniform of graffiti with the ubiquitous ‘Glasses For Everyone’ appearing every few yards in differing lettering and tags. The term was the cry of the common man.
GeoNosYs’ contribution to the world had been to offer eternal life to those who could afford it. Marcus Ackermann, the scientist who became God, had found the way to stop aging and conquer disease. His company was the richest organisation in the world, trumping all technology companies in a short few years.
His work had drawn a genetic line as well as an economic one to differentiate between the 1% and the rest. His work and methods were the stuff of mystery, the only mark that his magic left on his clientele was their trademark glasses and a huge dent in their financial reserves, GeoNosYs treatment did not come cheap.
The one downside of eternal life was that the eyes couldn’t take the process without a considerable lengthening of the eyeball. Severe myopia was now the mark of wealth, strange glasses with ‘myodisc’ lenses were seen on each and every member of the rich and famous. Of course, for some people who wanted to operate in the right circles faking the condition was required, and so backstreet opticians still existed in a world where glasses should have been a thing of the past. For a few months’ salary people would go to an unlicensed optician who would take a laser to their eyes to induce enough myopia to pass themselves off as a member of the rich and living forever club.
Jack’s car indicated that it was nearing its programmed destination, the headquarters of GeoNosYs’ research and development - the home of the secretive Marcus Ackermann and his team.
Earlier that day the station had received a call reporting that a senior scientist had jumped from the top of the main tower in the facility. Jack put on his wet weather gear as the car swept to a standstill by the police guarded entrance. He stepped out of the car and showed his card to the uniformed officers who were manning the scene with their semi-automatic’s in hand, the rain dripping from the end of their hossels.
The officers let Jack past and pointed him in the direction of the courtyard where the remains of the victim lay.
Jack had seen a number of corpses in his time and he knew from experience that each one had its own story to tell. Sometimes the story was clear and sometimes it was obfuscated, either by the sleight-of-hand of the passage of time or by more sinister means.
He stood over the body that confronted him now. The tortured corpse lay in a pool of blood, the victim’s glasses were smashed by his side, not that this would be a concern for the wearer any more.
Jack saw that the left fist of the victim was clenched tight, he pulled out a pen from his pocket and used it to carefully work the fingers loose. Held within the dead grip was a folded piece of paper. Jack took it from the victim and read it.
‘Ackermann needs to be stopped’
Jack put the slip into a clear evidence bag and headed back to the reception. On the desk a formal and efficient woman in her late forties was trying but failing to hold back the tears for her fallen colleague. Jack could see the tears in her eyes, each one minified by her powerful glasses, before emerging onto her cheeks as though somehow grown by an invisible force.
Jack asked whether Marcus Ackermann was available and had to force the issue when he was challenged with the ‘you don’t have an appointment’ response. After some hushed calls, Jack was sent up to the 23rd floor to meet with the scientist who played God.
On emerging from the lift Jack saw another woman at a reception desk. This woman was a younger, more attractive, version of the lady he had just forced his way past. Dressed in a tight burgundy business suit with high heels and tidy hair, this gatekeeper had already captured a piece of Jack’s heart before she looked up at him from her computer.
She too, wore high powered glasses, but Jack could still see the beauty of her emerald eyes behind her crystal veils. He brushed himself down and walked over to her. ‘Detective, Marcus knows you are here and will join us shortly. Can I offer you a drink, a coffee maybe?’
Jack couldn’t think of a single reason why he wouldn’t want a coffee from this wonderful woman and so confirmed her assertion. He watched her gracefully walk across to the coffee machine to pour him a cup, returning shortly after with a drink that looked almost as good as her.
‘Take a seat, Marcus will make his presence known to us as soon as he gets here.’
Jack did as instructed and took in his surroundings whilst drinking the coffee. It must have been his imagination, but he was beginning to find that the stark detailing of the office was becoming softer and slightly fuzzy. He was awoken from his reverie by the noise of the lift doors opening announcing the arrival of Ackermann.
Jack moved to get up from his seat, but drained of all energy, he couldn’t find the strength to move.
‘Thank you Agnes, you may leave the detective and I to talk.’
Jack tried to stand, but the world around him was becoming soft and fuzzy and he just wanted to sleep.
‘Ah, Detective Nugent, I see that you are now awake’
Jack opened his eyes and made to move. He soon realised that his wrists were attached to the arm of the chair and that his vision was not right. All Jack could see were blotted colours and shapes. He could see roughly where the scientist was stood, but he could not make out any features.
‘You found poor Robert Collins’ note I see. Shame, quite brilliant he was, quite brilliant indeed. But, Detective sometimes progress is not desirable.
He had found a way to apply my genetic recipe without damaging the eyes. Brilliant! Except of course that for me, my art isn’t in prolonging life, but rather in sculpting eyes so that eyewear is required for the rest of eternity. Of course, that may seem strange to you, but I have always found the idea of glasses compelling and beautiful and I couldn’t let progress stop my art.
Now, you and your eyes, I should imagine that we will have to reduce the power of your elongated lenses by around 23 dioptres or so. This of course is my art. The divining of the appropriate amount of optics to ensure that you can see clearly.’
Jack Nugent knew by this point that the scientist was quite mad. He also knew he was in a hopeless position until such time that he could see properly and free himself.
Ackermann placed a test frame on Jack’s nose and proceeded to work on finding the right equilibrium for Jack to be able to see. Finally he stood back and admired his work.
‘24 diopters of correction, I was close in my initial guess wasn’t I. How do you see with those lenses detective?’
Jack looked around the room, he could see well enough, but only if he looked through the centre of the each lens. He could see that they were alone. There was no sign of Agnes or anyone else.
‘Ackermann, you must know that my whereabouts will be checked on shortly. What do you hope to gain by this?’
‘Ah, my short-sighted detective, you don’t get it do you? I have given you eternal life, you are the one who has gained, not I.’
‘You have confessed to killing your colleague, you have assaulted me and are holding me against my will - I’d say we need to talk about those facts.’
Swiftly the scientist removed Jack’s glasses and released the velcro cuffs.
‘You are free to go Detective.’
Jack stood up from his seat, he could not see well enough to function properly. He put out his hands to find the limits of his world. He walked slowly across the room to try to head to where he thought the door had been.
He saw a flash of burgundy movement and smelt expensive perfume. He turned towards the smell, his brain alighted on the senses that provided the best feedback, his eyes had already been dropped down the pecking order by his subconscious.
He reached out and felt the smooth fabric of Agnes’ suit. He felt her hand touch him in the groin and despite knowing that he should fight this moment, he acquiesced and let her hold him. He could make out her face as it came closer to his and they kissed.
‘It feels better when you can’t see Jack.’ whispered the woman who was so intoxicating for the detective that his rational mind seemed to happily take a back seat.
Ackermann watched the two myopic partners, his work done. He turned and headed to the balcony. He opened the glass door and quietly stepped onto the balcony 100 feet above where the body of his protege lay.
He took in the view, the world he had engineered, and launched himself to his death.
Jack Nugent heard the noise of the door opening and felt the draft. He stopped Agnes, who was in the process of undressing him, and he heard the distant thump of body on concrete. He asked Agnes whether she knew where her glasses were and was only slightly concerned when she told him that Akermann had taken them from her at the last moment.
With no access to communications or a visual reference the pair decided to continue their exploration of one another while they waited for help to come.