by Tania Hutley
“What things are you going to change?”
I take a breath. Since transferring into Morelle’s Skin, I’ve been thinking about little else, and I’m glad to have the chance to say it out loud.
“I’ll start by restarting Sub Zero so the Fist can broadcast again. And I’ll destroy all the remaining Knight Skins. Then I’m going to find a way to make Old Triton safer, and give sinkers real homes instead of shelters. I’ll pay them higher wages, and make factories better places to work.” Talking about it makes my heart lift, and I find myself smiling at Cale. “It’s hard to wrap my head around all the things I can do in this Skin. But it’s exciting. It feels like I could work out a way to make the sun shine in Old Triton.”
His expression lightens, some of his usual spark returning to his eyes. “If you can really do all that, it would make a big difference. The Fist have been trying to do those things for years.”
“I am the Fist now.”
“As long as it doesn’t change you. Do you know what this Skin will do to your brain?”
“It’s not going to do anything to my brain.” I glance down at my bare feet, aware that I just lied to him. Then I meet his gaze. “Actually, Sentin said it might make me more confident. But that doesn’t have to be a bad thing.”
His frown comes back. “I don’t like that it’s going to do anything to you. It’s not something you should take lightly.”
“You think I should give the Skin to Sentin?” Though it’s what I originally wanted, now the idea makes me feel ill at ease. “In this Skin I can make things better for Old Triton. If Sentin becomes President Morelle, what’s to say he’ll want to do the same? He doesn’t care about Old Triton. Not like I do.”
“Even with all the good things you can do, I’d rather have Milla back. That Skin has a coldness to it. I’m afraid it’ll make you ruthless.”
“If I get to give Ma and Tori a better life, it’ll be worth it.” He’s still frowning, so I change the subject. “Speaking of Tori, would you go and check on her? I’d do it myself, but if President Morelle turned up to the safe house, I’d probably start a gunfight.”
“Shall I tell her what’s happened, and that you have a new identity?”
“I guess so. But just her. As much as I like Spade and Keren, we can’t trust too many people with a secret this big.”
“What about your mother? And your brother?”
“I’d like to tell Ma.” I step closer to the broken window, liking the fresh smell of the wind, and the way it buffets my face. “But I haven’t decided what to do about William. I won’t be able to look at him without thinking of Doctor Gregory.” Even saying her name brings a lump to my throat.
“Milla.” Cale hesitates for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck. “Do you think you can trust Sentin?” he asks finally.
“I don’t really have a choice.”
“There’s something I want to tell you. When I was in the Knight Skin, you remember how certain I was that Sentin was on our side? I’ve been thinking about it, and I’ve realized the way I felt about him wasn’t that different to the way I felt about Morelle.”
I frown, trying to recall my own time in the Knight Skin. I don’t remember thinking about Sentin at all while I was using it.
“The knights are loyal to Morelle because she wired those feelings into the Skins’ brains,” I say slowly.
“It sounds about as unlikely as him planning all this from the start, but do you think Sentin could have included himself in the knights’ programming, and they’re just as loyal to him?”
Three
President Morelle’s private office is on the floor below her apartment. It’s huge, luxurious, and would take up the entire floor if it weren’t for her assistant’s office, which I have to walk through to get to it.
But I really need to stop thinking of Morelle’s things as somebody else’s. It’s my office now, and her assistant works for me. Her name is Cassandra, and she’s wearing a crisp, cream suit and an expression that suggests she’s been doing this job a long time and can handle anything. She’s as beautiful as any New Tritoner, but I’m starting to understand what Cale meant when he said he was tired of everyone looking the same. I suppose there are only so many ways you can configure your features when you’re making them perfectly even.
“Good afternoon, Madam President.” Cassandra stands politely as I walk through her office. “Sentin is waiting for you. I’ve forwarded the rest of your meeting requests and messages to your band, and prioritised them for your attention.”
“Thanks.” She seems so efficient, I’m a little afraid she’ll see right through me. I keep walking and the door to my office opens automatically for me, its sensor probably triggered by my band.
My office has a giant boardroom table on one side that must seat at least thirty people. The windows are all opaque. They’re cloudy white walls designed to let in filtered light and hide the view.
In fact, the only high windows that don’t hide the view are the ones in President Morelle’s private apartment. I guess she didn’t want anyone else to see what’s over the Deiterran wall.
Sentin is behind Morelle’s desk—I mean, my desk—when I walk in. He’s wearing a navy shirt and black jeans, and using the large holo screen to look at a whole lot of numbers.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“Operational data for the Morelle Corporation.” He frowns at it. “Prior to making any changes, it’s important to analyze our revenue and expenses.”
“Changes?” I move behind him so I can read the numbers. They all have lots of zeroes, and the totals are high enough to make my head spin.
He glances over his shoulder at me, his eyes sharp behind his high-tech glasses. “I assume you’re here to talk about the changes you want to make?”
He’s right, I am. I don’t know how he does it, but I’m getting used to him being a step ahead.
“First, I have something to ask. I want to know about the Knight Skins, how they influence the thoughts of the people using them.” I step to his side so I can see his gray eyes more clearly, though trying to tell what he’s thinking is as impossible as making out the view through the opaque glass behind him.
Sentin makes the holo disappear, then swivels and sits back in his chair, stretching his long legs in front of him. “Have you noticed you speak differently in that Skin? Using the Leopard Skin changed your human body’s physical capabilities. I wonder if this one is expanding your intellectual capacity?”
I blink, distracted. “You think this Skin’s making me smarter?”
“The Skin’s brain has its own neural pathways. It can cause your own mind to become more active in certain areas.”
“Watch out, I might get smarter than you.”
It’s only a joke, but he answers seriously. “You’ve always had street smarts, Milla. That’s something that can’t be learned, except through experience.”
“Wait. Did you just pay me a compliment?” I jerk back with my hand to my mouth, exaggerating my surprise to hide the fact that I’m actually flattered.
“Don’t let it go to your head.” He’s as deadpan as ever, but I swear there’s a glint of amusement in his eyes.
I’d take it further, but just because I’m joking with Sentin for the first time ever, I can’t let myself get distracted. “Let’s talk about the knights,” I say, perching on the edge of the enormous desk.
He tilts his head back to look at me. “Go on.”
“Morelle made sure the knights would be loyal to her. But they’re loyal to you too, aren’t they?”
“Yes, they are.”
I blink at him. “But… how? Did Morelle know? And why did you do it?”
He’s silent for a moment, as though considering my questions. Then he answers in the slow, precise way I’ve become used to. “I told you I assisted her scientists with some complex calculations in order to win her trust. The calculations were related to the way Skins can stimulate areas in the brain.”
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“You mean, you helped control her soldiers’ minds?” My good feelings toward him disappear, and my voice rises. “How could you?”
He lifts both hands in a calming gesture. “I assisted with certain aspects of the technology. That answers your ‘how’ question. The answer to whether President Morelle knew the knights are loyal to me, is that she did not.”
“I also asked why you did it. You weren’t controlling them, were you? You didn’t tell them to terrorize Old Tritoners and attack innocent people?”
The knights killed a lot of sinkers. If Sentin’s to blame, I’ll have to do something. Maybe order my guards to arrest him. But fighting Morelle together has made us a team, and even if I don’t know whether I can trust him, I still think of him as a friend. Besides, I’m not sure I can pull off being the president without his help.
“I didn’t give them any orders.” His tone is as calm and as matter-of-fact as though we were talking about the weather. “My motivation for influencing the knights lies in the fundamental principles of probability theory. Although I calculate the most likely outcome of any event, the nature of predicted outcomes is that they may not necessarily occur.”
I cross my arms. “What does that mean?”
“It means that I set a number of contingency plans in motion. Being able to command the knights may have become necessary. Fortunately, it didn’t.”
“You shouldn’t have messed with those kids’ brains.”
“Noted.” He waves at the chairs on the other side of the desk. “Sit down, and we can talk through the changes you intend to make.”
I puff out a frustrated breath. Arguing with Sentin reminds me of trying to handle magnetised vReal gel. I couldn’t get a grip on that either.
“You know my brother is one of the kids you helped brainwash?” I demand.
He blinks slowly, giving nothing away, but clearly waiting for me to get to the topic he wants to discuss.
After a long moment, I let out another exasperated breath and ease off the desk, sinking into the chair opposite him instead. He’s in the president’s seat, and I’m in the one reserved for visitors, but I refuse to let that annoy me.
“I want to stop building new Knight Skins and destroy all the ones we have,” I tell him.
Sentin links his fingers, his elbows on the arms of his chair. His palms tilt toward me and I notice a deep wound in the fleshy part of his hand, running all the way from his index finger to his pinky.
“The knights are under your command,” he says. “It would be counter-productive to destroy them when you can simply order them to do your bidding. If they’re doing things you don’t like, just tell them not to.”
“I don’t want to order them to do anything,” I say. “Not when they’ve had their free will taken away.”
“The conditioning has already happened. You can’t reverse it.”
“I won’t use those kids like Morelle did.”
“If the soldiers have no Skins, they’ll lose their sense of purpose. Consider how you felt when you were forced to give up your Leopard Skin. There are over a thousand young people who’ll feel the same way.”
If Sentin would lose his temper, he’d be easier to argue with. But it’s impossible not to doubt myself when he’s always so damn logical.
I shake my head. “I won’t let you talk me out of this. I know what’s right and wrong, even if you don’t.”
“Most of the Knight Skins have already been destroyed by the Fist.” Ignoring my barb, he pulls up some numbers on the holo screen. “Only forty-seven remain. Even if you insist on halting the production of new Skins, you must retain the few you have. They’ll be necessary for our visit to Deiterra.”
“Our what?” The green fields I saw from the window flash into my mind, and my heart speeds up.
“We’re still officially at war. I’ve opened a line of communication with the Deiterran imperator to resolve the issues between us, and we must meet him face-to-face.”
“In Deiterra?”
He nods, and I catch my breath.
The thought of getting to walk through those fields makes me dizzy. But meeting with the imperator and having the responsibility for stopping the war rest on my shoulders? That’s not so appealing.
“What about your father?” I ask. “He’s the ambassador. Can’t he meet with the imperator?”
“My father was killed in the bombings.”
I rock back in my chair, shocked by his matter-of-fact tone. “I’m sorry, Sentin. I didn’t know.”
“It happened while you were unconscious. I didn’t expect you to know.”
“I’m still sorry.”
He gives me a nod. “Thank you.” His gaze flicks down to the desk and his eyes cloud over. For just a moment, I catch a flicker of pain that’s both raw and deep. Then he turns his face away, pushing his glasses further up his nose.
My heart contracts. Sentin isn’t emotionless after all.
He clears his throat, and when he looks back at me, his armor is locked back into place. “Our priority must be to negotiate the terms of a peace treaty. We’ll need to take the remaining knights with us to Deiterra, both to ensure your safety, and to create a presence that will help the imperator decide it’s in his best interests to be reasonable.”
I nod, resisting the urge to tell him it’s okay to grieve. It hasn’t been that long since the bombs went off, but Sentin’s better at hiding his feelings than anyone I’ve ever met. If he wants to pretend he has no heart, that’s up to him. At least I finally know the truth.
“I missed quite a lot of the war,” I say instead, with a casual shrug. “Were we winning?”
“Our knights came close to defeating the Deiterran army. If the Fist hadn’t wiped the chips of most of our soldiers, the imperator’s regime would have fallen by now.”
“Really?” I gaze up at the ceiling to give myself time to think. There’s so much to do here, I’m reluctant to leave. On the other hand, I never dreamed I’d get to go to Deiterra.
Funny to think that if I’d waited a few days before breaking into the Meat Locker to rescue William, or if I hadn’t wiped all those soldier’s chips, I might now be the interim president in charge of Deiterra as well as Triton.
“Can I travel in this Skin?” I lift both hands, as though showing him my palms will somehow help him answer my question. “My human body is being fed with tubes, right? And this body seems to be working like a real one. I’ve been testing it. So far, everything works like a real body. I’ve been eating and sleeping, and… doing everything else a real person would.”
His lips twitch. He knows what I mean by ‘everything else’ without me having to spell out how I nervous I was the first time this Skin needed the bathroom.
“Your Skin was created from Felicity’s DNA,” he says. “It has identical biological functions, and you need to fuel the Skin with food, just as she fuels her human body. The only modification is its ceramic composite skeleton, and fiber-optics that mimic the function of a spinal cord.”
“But it’s stronger and faster than a human would be.”
He inclines his head. “It was grown under laboratory conditions, so those traits were easy to enhance. But although the scientists improved on nature, genetically speaking, your Skin is a copy of the real Felicity. The only reason you don’t look more like her is because the Skin reflects a tweaked version of her, to fit with New Triton norms.”
“And if I take it to Deiterra, being such a long way from my human body won’t matter?”
He shakes his head. “The technology uses quantum entanglement. A close proximity is required for the initial consciousness transferal, but subsequent communication is instantaneous, and distance becomes irrelevant.” He blinks at me, probably registering my blank expression. “Just be aware that if you transfer out of the Skin, you won’t be able to use it again. It will appear to be unconscious until you get close enough to transfer back into it and resume control.”
“Okay.” I mak
e up my mind. “Let’s go to Deiterra, and I’ll wait until we get back before I destroy the last of the Knight Skins. But before we go, I want to help the people of Old Triton. I’ll start by increasing the amount they get paid for working in my factories.”
He blinks slowly, and I can almost see the cogs spinning in his brain.
“You have over a million employees,” he says after a moment. “Lifting wages across the board will be prohibitively expensive.”
I gesture to the deactivated holo mechanism on the desk. “You were looking at some big numbers when I came in. The profit column looked particularly impressive.”
“If you bankrupt your company, your employees will have no jobs at all.”
Restlessly, I get up from my chair and pace to the opaque windows, still a little wobbly in the high heels I haven’t quite gotten used to.
“You’ve analyzed the numbers, right? How much of an increase can I afford to give them?”
“That’s not the only consideration.” He swivels his chair to face me. “Everything in Triton is interconnected. You’re part of a consortium of factory owners who work together to protect their mutual interests. They set wages to maximize their profits. Upsetting that balance will turn them against you.”
I snort. “So Triton’s factory owners are a group of sharks who like to steal from goldfish? I’ve seen that plenty of times, and they don’t scare me like they used to.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Goldfish? Stompers? You need to be careful not to use Old Triton slang when you’re in that Skin.”
Dammit, he’s right.
“What if all the factory owners had to raise the wages they pay?” I speak slowly, making sure I pronounce each word like a New Tritoner would. “I could make it a law. As the acting president, I can increase the legal minimum wage, can’t I?”
“The industrialist consortium is powerful. Its members will fight you.”
I frown at him. “Of course the factory owners don’t want to pay more. That’s why it needs to be a law.”
“The presidential election is in a few months. You should wait until you’re officially elected.”
