by Tania Hutley
“The damage to your body is severe, and I have no anaesthetic or pain relief to offer.” Sentin’s reptilian face shows no expression, but his tone is grim. “When I wipe your chip, you’ll be jerked back into your human body. I’ll re-code the chip as quickly as I can, but you’ll have to bear the pain until you can transfer into the President’s Skin.” He lifts my human head and cradles it with one hand, readying the scanner.
“Wait. I need another minute.” This is all happening so fast, and who knows when I’ll get to be the leopard again?
“We’re out of time.”
I’m opening my mouth to tell him to give me another damn minute when my consciousness lurches sideways, slamming back into my human body so fast, I feel like I’ve fallen over and hit the floor.
Agony sears through me. Every cell of my body lights up with unbearable pain. My limbs are on fire. I open my mouth to scream, but there’s no air in my lungs. If I manage to make a sound, I can’t hear it over the pounding in my ears.
“Transfer!” Sentin must be shouting in my ear, but the sound is distant, muffled by the roar in my head. “Transfer now.”
It takes everything I have to focus on what he wants me to do. Somehow I manage to close my eyes and force my mind sideways again, fighting my way out of the pain, searching for the President’s Skin.
I find it.
At first, all I feel is relief that the pain has stopped. Then, in an exhilarating rush, other sensations hit me.
I’m so full of energy, I want to bounce to my feet. Instead, I ease up to sitting. I’m wearing a blouse with a small tear in the front, and a tight, long skirt. I can’t even feel the cut on my side. My skin is the colour of mahogany, as richly bronzed as any New Tritoner. I bring up one hand, flexing my fingers. I’m used to having hands that are covered with calluses and the marks left by years of hard labor. Morelle’s fingers are long and smooth, tipped with perfectly-groomed nails painted with a clear, shiny coating. And when I put my hand to my face, my fingers glide over a silky cheek instead of twisted scar tissue.
“How do you feel?” asks Sentin.
I look up at the Reptile Skin standing over me. His scales have turned deep green. I can make out every smear of blood that mars their color, and detect the way his breath catches slightly on his exhalation, as though it hurts him to breathe. My vision is so sharp, it’s even better than when I was the leopard. Every detail stands out so clearly, it’s overwhelming. My brain can barely process it all.
“Milla, how do you feel?” repeats Sentin.
“Powerful.” The word comes out in Morelle’s voice, cold and authoritative. This Skin must have a voice synthesiser, because I sound exactly like her.
“Better than your Leopard Skin?”
Instead of answering, I push myself to my feet, the movement so easy it seems as graceful as running water. My veins could be filled with rocket fuel instead of blood. I’m acutely aware of the way my muscles tighten and release when I flex them. This Skin is incredible. If I wanted to, I bet I could punch right through the floor.
As the leopard, I was strong. Now I’m even stronger.
The feeling’s intoxicating. No wonder Edward Morelle believed he could rule the world.
Sentin turns and limps out of Felicity’s bedroom. I follow him through her toy room and into the hallway, where the floor is littered with deactivated Knight Skins, their chips ruptured with Sentin’s sonic pulse weapon. My long, fitted skirt means I can only take short steps, but even the simple act of walking feels good, especially in bare feet. I spot Morelle’s high-heeled shoes, which must have fallen off when Sentin carried this Skin into Felicity’s bedroom. Though I stop to pick them up, I follow him into the living room without putting them on.
Sentin stops once we’re well away from the dead knights. “Use your band and tell the soldiers to stand down,” he says. “It has a thought interface like a mind pad, or you can control it manually.”
I run my fingers over the delicate gold band on my wrist. It’s finer than any band I’ve ever seen, with an intricate design etched into it. I have no idea how to use the thought interface, so I touch the sensor. When the control panel comes up, the number of apps it shows is dizzying. Is there anything this band can’t do?
“There.” Sentin extends his long forefinger. “Switch it to broadcast settings so I can interact with it.”
I select the option he points to, and a 3-D projection of a Knight Skin appears above my band. The knight has a cat’s pointed ears, an animal’s snout, and is covered with black armor.
The knight salutes. “Yes, President Morelle?” It has a woman’s voice.
Before I can speak, Sentin leans in. “The emergency is over.” His tone is clipped and authoritative. “Order has been restored. Call your men back to their posts.”
The knight salutes again, its yellow eyes unblinking. “Yes, sir.”
That’s right. I’d forgotten that the knights answer to Sentin as well as President Morelle. Edward Morelle must have trusted him to give him so much authority.
“One more thing,” I say to the knight.
“Yes, Madam President?”
I open my mouth to give an order, then hesitate as the magnitude of the moment ploughs into me. I’m President Morelle. I have an entire army loyal to me. I could tell the knight to do anything at all, and she’d rush to do my bidding.
What if I ordered her to take all the floaters down to Old Triton to fill the shelters, and bring all the sinkers up from the darkness to move into their sun-filled mansions? Could I change the world with one command?
While I’m still hesitating, Sentin speaks up. “There’s a girl here who requires urgent medical attention.” He catches my gaze, and I realize he’s talking about my battered human body.
I nod, quelling the urge to do something momentous. There’ll be time once the current situation is cleaned up.
“I want repairs to the elevator started immediately,” I tell the soldier. “Send a doctor to this floor as soon as you can get access to it.” My Leopard Skin needs treatment too, but it can wait.
“Yes, Madam President.”
After running and hiding for so long, being able to give orders feels like an impossible luxury, too good to last. “And another thing,” I add, wanting to make the most of it. “Find William Scully. He’s a soldier in my army. I want him back in his real body. He’s not to transfer into a Knight Skin again. Bring him here, unharmed.”
“Not up here,” murmurs Sentin.
He’s right, we can’t start letting people into this apartment. Not with Felicity here.
“Take him to…” I hesitate, glancing at Sentin for guidance.
“There are bedrooms on level four.”
That’s a good idea. We lived on level four when we were training to compete in the Skin Hunter contest, and William will be comfortable in those rooms until I’m ready to see him. If I’m ever ready to see him.
For years, Ma and I talked about how much we wanted to find my brother and be a family again. But after watching William murder Doctor Gregory, that dream has soured. I owe it to Ma to keep him safe, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive him.
I give the order, then dismiss the knight. Uncertainty is whispering through me again, because not knowing where to take William has reminded me there’s a lot I don’t know yet, but it’s a quiet voice in the back of my mind. Mostly, there’s a fire burning through my veins. All the things that are wrong and unfair in Triton can finally change. I can change them.
The room has gone silent. The sounds from the apartment below have stopped, which means the soldiers have stopped trying to break through the floor. The knight believed I was President Morelle.
Sentin was right, I can do this.
I’m still holding Morelle’s high-heeled shoes. I’ve never in my life worn a pair, but maybe this Skin will have muscle memory to guide me.
Easing my feet into the shoes, I wobble to the largest living room window, the one designed to catch and
frame the most impressive view. Once there, I lift one hand and press it against the glass.
The Morelle scraper is so tall, we’re almost in the clouds. The sun is close enough to look like it might brush the top of the building as it goes by. I’m closer to it than I’ve ever been, but this Skin’s eyes must automatically adjust to the brightness outside, because I don’t need to squint.
The view over New Triton is dizzying. I glimpsed it before, but now I have more time to look. And my eyes immediately go to the swathes of green on the other side of the wall. The green fields of Deiterra. I never imagined there’d be so much land not filled with buildings. It’s both completely shocking and outrageously beautiful.
There are some buildings in the distance. From this height it’s difficult to tell how tall they are, but they don’t seem even as high as Old Triton.
“Are the Deiterrans farmers?” I ask Sentin. “Do they grow their own food? No food factories needed?”
Sentin’s silent for a few moments, as though he’s reluctant to talk about Deiterra even though it’s laid out in front of us. Then he inclines his head. “They haven’t needed to manufacture food, although the war has taken its toll.”
Smoke rises in the far distance, like a fire is burning, but the expanse of green in front of the wall is what draws my gaze. The fields are sectioned off, with different colors of green in different areas. Different plants, I suppose. Near the breach in the wall, some incredibly tall trees are stretching their branches to the sun.
“How much damage has been done by the war?” I ask.
“That’s a conversation for later.”
I glance back at the smoke. Could there still be knights in Deiterra? Is that where the war’s raging?
Edward Morelle must have gazed out at this view every day for years. On this side of the wall, scrapers fill the city, bristling into the sky like a forest of sleek silver trees. But on the other side is all that empty space. No wonder Edward wanted to unite the two countries. If Triton could expand into Deiterra...
The thought fills me with air, like endless possibilities have just opened up in front of me and I’m about to take off and float through them. If the wall were to come down, Old Tritoners—my people—would have space and sunlight beyond their wildest dreams.
I can feel Sentin’s gaze on me. He’s studying me, his scales rippling with shades of blue and his head slightly tilted, as though he can tell what I’m thinking and doesn’t like it one bit.
Reluctantly, I force myself to turn away from the window. I have a million questions about Deiterra, but now’s not the time to ask. There’ll be time later, though. I’ll find out everything I want to know and decide what’s best for Triton.
“I need to talk to Cale and make sure he’s okay. And I need to check on Ma and Tori.” With every word I utter, I realize it really will be as easy as that. I’m in charge. All I need to do is say what I want, and I can make it happen. My army will make it happen.
I can’t wait for Cale to come up here and gaze over the green fields of Deiterra with me. We can make plans together. And I can give Ma and Tori all the things they’ve been dreaming of. Money. A home to live in. Safety and security.
My fingers go to the band on my wrist, running over the delicate circlet of gold. Edward’s entire corporation now belongs to me. I own hundreds of factories and shelters, and I control the lives of millions of Tritoners.
I suck in a deep breath as a rush of exhilaration fills me.
My power is all but endless.
To change the world, all I need to do is command it.
Chapter Two
“Can you heal it?” I ask the scientist.
My beautiful Leopard Skin is lying on its side on a gurney in front of me. Looking at all its wounds makes me wince. Large clumps of its thick fur are missing, and the fur that’s left is matted with dried blood.
“Of course, Madam President. My team will work around the clock to ensure both the Leopard and the Reptile Skins are at full capacity as soon as possible.”
I let out my breath. “Thank you.”
We’re in a lab room on the twenty-sixth floor of the Morelle scraper, in the Skin Research and Development division. I don’t like this floor, because down the hall is the lab where the red-haired doctor was going to cut into my Skin so she could watch my human body bleed. Thankfully, this room isn’t like that one. It has banks of computer screens taking up one wall, and cabinets full of equipment covering another.
Sentin is back in his human body. He wanted me to stay in the penthouse apartment so we could talk through endless details about the giant corporation I now own, but I needed to come here first, to make sure my Leopard Skin is in good hands.
“Seeing as we’re doing such extensive repairs to the Leopard Skin, would you like us to upgrade it?” asks the scientist. He’s been tweaked, of course, but the tightness around his eyes hints that he must be an old man. He has a slow way of speaking that reminds me a little of Sentin.
“What kind of upgrade?” I reach out to stroke a patch of unbloodied fur on my leopard’s muzzle, resting my fingertips against its soft fur.
The scientist rubs his chin, as though considering the options. “We can improve all aspects of the way it functions. But I assume you wish to keep the integrity of its form?”
“Are you asking if I want to change the way it looks?” My first reaction is to tell him no way. My Leopard Skin is the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen, and he’s asking if I mind him making it uglier?
On the other hand, if he can make my Skin stronger, wouldn’t it be worth making changes? After all, my accident made me ugly, but that stopped mattering so much after I became stronger.
“Let me clarify.” He pushes his hands into the pockets of his white coat. “Working on the Knight Skins, we perfected the integration of a ceramic composite with biological material. We can introduce a ceramic subcutaneous layer beneath the top epidermis, to render the Skin resistant to wounds such as the ones inflicted here.”
“That was supposed to clarify it?”
He chuckles, as though he thinks I’m joking with him. “The introduction of a protective barrier will require us to remove the existing fur and skin before reintegrating it with the new material. But we can perform the other enhancements using non-invasive techniques.”
I blink, trying to understand what he’s saying. “You can make the leopard bulletproof?”
“It won’t be entirely bulletproof. But the new layer will provide protection against all kinds of bladed weapons and projectiles, including low-calibre ammunition. If you want greater resistance, the thickness of the introduced ceramic will need to increase, which may affect the Skin’s appearance.”
Faced with the terrible wounds in front of me, how can I say no? But even as I nod, I sink my fingers protectively into my leopard’s fur. “Do as much as you can.”
“You’ll be pleased, Madam President. I believe we can exponentially increase the Skin’s strength and endurance as well. We’ve made significant advances in improving muscle density and performance.”
I run my fingers up to the top of my leopard’s head. Even there, patches of blood mar its beautiful, thick fur and I have a powerful urge to pick the dried clumps out with my fingers. But with the scientist’s eyes on me, I shouldn’t let myself linger. Instead I turn away and leave the lab room.
The hallway I walk into is the one I ran down when I was escaping this building. It was only a few days ago, and it feels even more recent when I look through the glass doors of lab rooms and see things I’ve glimpsed before.
In one lab is a pair of human legs wired up to a heart floating in a large glass cylinder. In another, a metal animal skeleton has a human face. A third holds a row of brains on a long table, each with hundreds of needles bristling out of it.
I don’t go into any of those lab rooms to investigate what kind of experiments the scientists are doing here, because I’m not sure I want to know. But there is one room I
stop in front of, and my heart beats faster as I look inside.
This is the room where Doctor James was going to slice me open. She’s inside, bent over a small table, peering into a microscope. Her red hair is scraped back from her face just the way it was when she sliced into my leopard and I swore I’d kill her.
I push the door open. As I go in, she turns with a surprised expression. “President Morelle.” She ducks a small bow, then extends her hand to shake mine. “It’s a pleasure to see you. I’ve been hoping for a chance to tell you in person how sorry I am for losing the—”
“You’re fired.” I ignore her outstretched hand.
“Excuse me?” Her eyes widen and her hand drops.
“You’re fired. Get your things and leave.” I keep my tone brisk. Would I be taking so much satisfaction in doing this if I weren’t in this Skin? It’s impossible to know. But firing her feels surprisingly good.
“But… please, Madam President. Let me—”
“Leave now, or I’ll have you thrown out.”
Her mouth opens and closes, and the blood drains from her face, turning her cheeks gray. “May I know—?”
“No. Just leave.” I step back and motion to the door.
She swallows hard, but walks to the door, hesitates, then goes out. I take one more look around the small lab room. Its antiseptic smell turns my stomach, but there’s no trace of the gurney she had me tied to, or the scalpel she used to cut into me. I’m going to make sure nobody else ever gets carved up in here.
My band vibrates, and when I touch the sensor, the control panel that appears is still confusing. It takes me a moment to figure out how to accept the call, then the sharpest hologram I’ve ever seen appears above my band. Sentin’s human face is displayed in perfect 3-D, as though he’s managed to poke his head through the control panel to talk to me.
“You’re still on level twenty-six?” he asks. “Cale’s here. I’ve granted him access to the penthouse.”
“Thanks, I’ll come up.”
When I take the repaired elevator to the top floor, I find Cale staring out of the large living room window, gaping at the incredible view.
