“Thank you.” I turned to my guardian and held out my drink for him to take, low so that nobody would notice. “Why don’t you join them, Gareth?” I asked. “I doubt Pervenio would try anything today.”
“I’m fine.”
“Please. You know Gareth doesn’t drink,” Maya remarked. “Trass knows why.”
I nodded and went to continue on my way, but Maya tapped at my back to stop me. “Kale. You tell that bitch that if she tries anything, if she even looks at you the wrong way, I’ll burn her pretty Earther face off.”
“Sure thing, Maya.”
She muttered something under her breath, then turned away from the others so that she could take a sip of her drink. She had to angle her head so that her healthy cheek was facing downward and the colorful liquid wouldn’t dribble through the hole on the other side. Everyone in the card game stared, at least until she lifted her head and they pretended not to have noticed. She only drank or ate publicly on rare occasions. I assumed us departing for Mars in less than twenty-four hours was a huge part of it.
I left her there and followed Gareth. He parted the sea of celebrators for us to pass directly through. Leading was still new to me, but I’d learned early on the importance of making myself seen. Ever since we broadcasted the execution of Director Sodervall and declared my true name, it seemed to boost morale. Keep my people focused. Luxarn’s futile attempts at openly assassinating me with dried-up Collectors and furtive Cogents were just a part of the job.
“Lord Trass,” a gray-bearded Titanborn in a fine, Pervenio-designed tunic addressed me. Gareth leapt forward to pat him down. Gareth signed to me that the man was clear, then allowed him to pass. “I was hoping I might have the chance to speak with you while you’re here.”
I nodded for him to proceed.
He bowed his head. “I am Orson Fring. I’ve been assigned with managing the new factory on Phoebe and overseeing the construction of interplanetary ship engines and hulls.”
“I know what it is.”
“My apologies, of course you do. I’m wondering if I could make a request.”
“Administrator Mazrah is back now. You can discuss any issues you have with her.” I went to walk by, but he was persistent. He forced his way in front of us, earning a glower from Gareth.
“I’m afraid this is a matter in which only you can help. Please, Lord Trass.”
I stopped. The trappings of leadership never took a day off, no matter how exhausted I was. Even while we celebrated victories over our Earther overseers, Titanborn from all corners of the Ring approached me with their difficulties. As if a Titan, united in race and purpose, could ever be worse than one where we survived under the constant fear of shock batons, in prisons made by the credits Earthers dangled on strings we couldn’t reach.
“What is it?” I grumbled. Usually I passed them along to Mazrah or Maya if they didn’t go through proper channels like everybody else, but the factory we took on Phoebe was now home to the Titanborn who were most experienced in Pervenio tech. They were required to ensure the ships in our future fleet all went together without a hitch.
“Thank you.” He bowed again. “The workers have expressed concerns that despite being pushed to our limits every day, they won’t be adequately compensated. We understand the need to produce a defensive fleet to ensure our safety, but even under Pervenio we—”
“Is the promise of increased food rations and shelter not sufficient?”
“It is. It’s just… We were hoping you might be open to discussing something a bit more tangible.”
Gareth rubbed his index finger and thumb together in front of the man’s face.
“Credits.” I spat. “Always credits. Relax, Manager Fring. Your workers have merely been conditioned by Pervenio to expect credits so they can buy their newest hand-terminal or suit, and for what?”
“I know, Lord Trass,” Orson said. “But you have to understand—”
“There is nothing to understand. Tell your workers to be proud they have such crucial positions. As Titan flourishes, so will every Titanborn on the Ring. You have my word.” He attempted to speak, but my glower stopped the words in the back of his throat. “We don’t need credits anymore. We don’t need anything Earth has to offer. Help me get our people to see that.”
I shoved by him, causing him to bump into someone’s drink and spill it all over himself. Gareth left the argument that erupted behind us and quickly caught up with me.
“Don’t like the look of that one,” he signed. “He’s been serving under them for too long. Like one of those Earth dogs begging for a treat before it stops barking.”
“He’s harmless,” I said. “They’re just afraid that eventually things will go back to the way they were, and they’ll be so deep in a hole they won’t be able to climb out.”
“They should be praising you for wiping away their debts. What I would’ve done to grow up not worrying about rent.”
“Give them time, Gareth. All of this still feels like a dream.”
“Better than a nightmare.”
I turned left through the parting crowd, toward the Bistro, which once sold fine pre-Meteorite cuisine. The sign outside was no longer legible. Mazrah sat on one of the tables, a half-drained bottle of genuine Earther liquor next to her. She still appeared a bit frazzled, but that was multitudes better than when I last saw her. Upon noticing me, she immediately stood and approached. She had a slight hitch to her step from when a Pervenio Collector had apparently shot her in the leg on the eve of our revolution. Being the most infamous information broker in the Ring made her susceptible to encounters of that sort.
“Please sit,” I said.
The rest of her wounds from the Ring Skipper had her wincing with every move, so she gladly took my invitation. She stumbled once and banged her hip before plopping back up on the table.
“Lord Trass himself,” she said, sweeping her arm in an exaggerated motion. “I didn’t get a chance to thank you for what happened out there.”
I gestured to her bad leg, where the wrinkled, globular scar from a Collector was the only blemish on her otherwise perfect body, which comprised all the best attributes from both pure Earthers and pure Titanborn. It made it easy for her to be in charge. Man or woman, people were afraid to talk to her. I myself found her too flawless, like she was the product of some mad scientist’s fantasies.
“You would have done the same for us,” I said. “I was hoping to find Aria with you here.”
“Not happy to see me, Lord Trass?” she teased. My cheeks flushed a light shade of pink, which she seemed to enjoy. She took a swig from the bottle, scrunched her eyes as if the golden liquid burned her throat, and then took another. “You just missed her,” she garbled. “I don’t know what Maya has against that girl. One visit from our former Doctor and I feel almost as good as new.”
“Who doesn’t Maya have something against?” Gareth signed.
“Why do you think I’m hiding in here?” Mazrah replied.
“She’s not too bad...when she drinks,” I added.
Mazrah chuckled. “Or when you do.” She indulged in another sip, covering her mouth as she hiccupped after. The liquor on her breath was so pungent I had to stretch my nostrils. She was usually as composed as anyone I’d ever known, even more so than her sister. I couldn’t imagine how much pain she had to be in to let loose like this in plain sight.
“If you want Aria, she said she was heading down to the hangar to make sure everything with the Cora was right for departure,” Mazrah said. “I’ve never seen anyone but an Earther so eager to get off Titan.”
“Maybe too eager,” Gareth interjected.
“Ignore them, Kale. She’s just nervous. Organizing a meeting with the full USF Assembly is hard enough when you aren’t enemy number one.”
“I’m with Kale until the end, but it’s still far from our home. She isn’t Titanborn,” Gareth signed.
“Slow those paws down, would you?” Mazrah blabbered.
I ignored her. “No, she’s not,” I said to Gareth, “but from what she’s told me about where she grew up on Mars, it isn’t far off from the Lowers.
“Unless she lied.”
The thought had crossed my mind plenty of times. The Children of Titan had once referred to her as the Doctor before the revolution, when she helped steal medicine to cure our sick. Aria was the name with which she introduced herself to me, though. She was illegitimate and without a family name—half Earther and half offworlder—so there wasn’t any record of her throughout Sol. Earthers tried to control everything right down to breeding. For the betterment of the human race, they required all citizens to get approval before having children to ensure there was no risk of defect.
So, Aria knew what it was like to be treated like dirt because of how and where she was born. Every day was a fight to survive until she found a gig smuggling for Venta Co. and it was because of those connections that I’d named her our ambassador to the USF and all their affiliated corporations. Or was it because her hybrid nature reminded me of Cora... I shook the thought out of my head.
“Not you too now,” I groused.
“You asked me to always be honest with you.”
“I prefer when that honesty pits you against Maya, not with her.”
“For what it’s worth, I trust her,” Mazrah said. “We half-breed girls have to stick together. Besides, I’ve seen the way she looks at you. There’s no treachery there, believe me. There was a time I made a living off the looks I gave men.”
“It doesn’t matter anyway,” I said. “We need her.” Mazrah nodded her agreement, then raised the bottle for another swig, but I wrapped my hand around hers to stop her. “And I need you in charge while we’re gone, Mazrah.” I took the bottle. “Focus on reparations and developing a fleet using what we have, and we’ll worry about the rest of the Ring beyond what Pervenio owned when we return. My mother is prepared to perform whatever outreach you need. If there’s any trouble—”
“Kale.” She stretched out her long, scarred leg and leaned back, as if she hadn’t a care in the world. “If anything goes wrong, you’ll only be hundreds of millions of kilometers away. I’ll be sure to consult with you, but nobody’s going to make a move until the USF feels this out. Every eye in Sol will be on your visit to Mars. Enjoy it. I loved a man once who spent time there. Maybe you’ll find someone too.” Her mouth formed a mischievous grin after she uttered those last words.
I shook my head, partly out of exasperation, but mostly to hide the fact that my cheeks were again flushed. “I swear to Trass, I don’t know how you and Maya are related.”
“I’m pretty sure they’re the ones lying about their fathers,” Gareth signed.
Mazrah slid forward on the table, ran the back of her manicured fingers up Gareth’s arm and then around the back of his neck. I’ll admit, even my perpetual frustration melted away as I watched him struggle with being so near to her. She pulled his head so close her lips grazed his earlobe.
“Trust me, handsome, who would make up being related to her?” she whispered. When she was finished, she glanced up in my direction. “Life is too brief to spend every minute scowling. Why don’t you head down to the docks and let the ambassador in on the celebration? Today, Pervenio finally got what was coming to them, even if they almost took me with them.”
“Luxarn Pervenio could suffer for a thousand lifetimes and he still wouldn’t get all that he deserves,” I said.
Mazrah groaned in frustration. “Better yet, why don’t you go and join my sister? You two are gluttons for misery. As for me.” She lowered herself off the table and started limping toward the exit. On her way, she snagged her bottle back. “I’m going to go see if there’s a Ringer out there drunk enough to pretend they don’t know who I am before I have to keep your throne warm.”
“Titanborn,” I corrected.
“Right. Still getting used to that.” She looked back, smiled warmly, and then left.
“I sure know why Vick worshipped that woman,” Gareth signed.
“He was all talk.”
“Think she’s in condition to look after things?”
“She better be,” I stated. Gareth snorted in agreement.
“Docks?”
I considered it for moment, then shook my head. “Take the night off, Gareth. That’s an order.”
He objected at first, but I shook him after a little convincing. I decided that Aria could wait until the morning. I didn’t want to distract her from her work, not when there was so much at stake. Instead, I snuck out through the Bistro’s kitchen and used some of the vent lines I frequented in my heyday as a young pickpocket to get down to the Lowers. I traversed the cramped, subterranean passage all the way to Level B2, sticking to the shadows as I made my way to the old, rocky hollow where my mother had raised me.
While I usually stayed in a luxurious room in an Uppers hotel meant for Luxarn Pervenio when he visited, I made sure that hollow always remained unoccupied. Celebrations of our liberation continued in the ice-rock tunnels of the Lowers, where the scars of revolution were equally as prevalent as above. They were all too busy to spot me, out of my armor and without my entourage.
I stole myself into the hollow, locked the hatch, and lay upon the hard mattress where I grew up. Where my responsibilities consisted of thinking up what I should steal next so that I could make life easier on my mother or dreaming about how best to ask Cora out for a drink. I begged my mind to stop racing so that I might be able get some sleep, but it never came. Instead, I lay there, staring at the barren ceiling and listening to that recording of Luxarn Pervenio and Director Sodervall on repeat. I listened to them discuss all the reasons Cora was so senselessly killed, until my mind brought me back to the first day I ever met her…
“Drayton!” the voice of Captain Saunders thundered down the hall of Pervenio Station. I was mere seconds away from my assigned hangar when I heard him.
I picked up my pace and darted around the corner where I was greeted by his glare. Most Earthers tended to care about their appearance, but not him. A scraggly beard covered half his barrel-like chest.
He had a hand-terminal out so he could check off all the members of his crew. Clearly, I was last, since the moment he spotted me he stowed the thing.
“You’re late,” he grumbled.
I took a moment to catch my breath. “I’m sorry, sir. It was my first time traveling I didn’t-”
“You Ringers and your excuses. My brother made me hire you for that pretty Ringer servant who’s been cleaning his underwear for so long. You make him look bad, he’ll do a lot worse than me.”
“It won’t happen again.”
“Better not. Next time I’ll dock you a day.” He pointed toward a few other members of the crew loading up empty canisters to be filled with Saturn’s most valuable gases. “Help them load up. I want to push off the moment Pervenio inspection is through.”
He strolled away, barking orders at someone else while I set off into the hangar. The gas harvester Piccolo was moored in the center, and as I approached I couldn’t take my eyes off her. The ship wasn’t anything special. An old rust-bucket mostly that probably dated to before the Great Reunion, but I’d never seen a ship so large up close.
There were a number of things that led to me taking a job in maintenance on the ship when I was sixteen. The biggest one was living in the Darien Lowers got me caught up with the wrong people. I was clipped robbing the wealthy Earther my mom worked as a housekeeper for, but I kept my mouth shut and kept my life. Pervenio Corp would have had me locked up, but my mom got the charges dropped. Instead, I’d have to work off my debts on the gas harvester my employer’s brother managed.
It was the first time I’d ever stepped off Darien when I boarded the shuttle for Pervenio Station, passing through decontamination chamber after decontamination chamber, which Pervenio Corp. said kept my kind safe from their diseases. Even so, I don’t think I’d ever kept my sanitary mask and gloves pulled
on as tightly as they were that day.
“Eh, look John,” one of the Earther crewman remarked as I approached the loading ramp. “Got some fresh meat.”
“Extra pale, just how we like them,” John answered.
He regarded me with the same shit-eating grin so many Earthers did when they came to the Lowers thinking they could rip off some Ringers. I thought about snapping back, then noticed the baton hanging at his side. He and the two goons on either side of him were the ships freelance security team. Pervenio Corp. didn’t waste good men on old gas harvesters that could hardly make a profit.
“I don’t want any trouble,” I said. “I’m just here to work.” I didn’t mention that I’d promised my mother I’d be good and stay out of trouble for her sake.
John cackled. A Ringer nudged me on his way by, pushing a cart stacked so absurdly high with supplies it had to be a joke.
“Great,” he grumbled. “Another one eager to lick the mudstomper’s boots.”
“Make sure to hurry back, Desmond,” John called after the man. “Wouldn’t want you to miss out on any work.”
“Fuck yourself.”
I watched Desmond struggle to push his cart off the ramp. With so much weight piled on, it was a job more suited for an Earther, but his expression said all I needed to know. He wasn’t going to let any mudstomper make him look weak.
John’s burly arm wrapped the back of my neck and he led me to another cart in need of loading.
“What’s your name, kid?” he asked.
“Ka…” I sputtered over my own name. Growing up in the Lowers, you get used to feeling uncomfortable any time an Earther is close enough to grab your throat. “Kale Drayton.”
“We have a tradition on board the Piccolo, Kale.”
“Yeah?”
He glanced over at his cronies, suppressing a grin. “Yeah. The last Ringer who arrives for duty has to pick up the harvesting canisters.”
John’s buddies knocked a stack of cylindrical containers off their rack. They clanged along the metal floor, the sound filling the hangar. I felt my heart drop further and further with every impact until they stopped rolling.
Titan's Wrath Page 5
