by Tania Hutley
They look pretty much the same, except Keren’s arm is strapped up. That’s right, she broke it in the battle. Spade’s still wearing the same lumpy, knitted hat as last time I saw him, but it’s even dirtier now. He’s lean, and looks skinnier when he stands next to Keren. She’s solid, with wide shoulders, and looks like she’s wearing every piece of clothing she owns.
Keeping my expression neutral, I give them a polite nod. “Thank you for speaking with me.”
“We saw your broadcast.” Keren’s eyes are narrowed, and she glares at me like she smells something bad.
“I want to distribute food to Old Tritoners,” I say. “But I know what goes on in the shelters. The strong take from the weak. If we hand out anything, we’ll need a way to make sure everyone gets their share, and help them keep it.”
“How do you expect to do that?” Keren demands.
“The first step will be to get people to accept what I’m offering. They don’t trust me, or the police force, or anyone who might be an obvious choice to help me. But they trust the Fist.”
“Why would you suddenly want to give out food?” Spade snarls. “You’ve never done anything like it before.” When he talks, I have to force myself to keep my gaze level and not stare at his mouth, at the dark spaces where his teeth are missing.
“Because I made a promise to Milla Scully,” I say.
“What?” Keren’s eyes go wide. “Where is she?”
“What have you done with her?” Spade hisses the question through gritted teeth and a muscle ticks in his jaw. As weird as this is, it’s nice to see how concerned he is for me.
“She’s busy doing me a favor.” Impulsively, I add, “Actually, she’s in Deiterra, with her friend Tori.”
They exchange puzzled frowns, and I can tell I’ve shocked them.
Karen recovers first. “How do we know you haven’t killed Milla? And Tori as well?”
“I’m sorry, I can’t tell you any more than that.” Mentioning Tori hadn’t been part of the plan, and was probably a mistake. “They’re both safe, and will be back soon,” I add. When it comes to Tori, I sincerely hope that’s true.
“So you’re giving away free food in a shelter as some kind of payment to Milla?” Spade pushes his hat backward to scratch his greasy hair.
“That’s right.”
“How can we believe a word you say?” snaps Keren. “You executed four of our friends on stage in front of us.”
“Things have changed. I’m no longer a danger to you.”
“I’ll vouch for her,” Cale cuts in. “You can trust her.”
Spade and Keren exchange more frowns, their doubt radiating off them. I can guess what they must be thinking. They’re wondering what kind of pressure I’ve used on Cale to make him back me up, and whether I’m blackmailing or threating him. They’re probably convinced this is some elaborate ruse to wipe out the Fist.
I drag in a breath and glance at the numbers I was going through, still visible on the desk holo. I hadn’t intended to rush this plan quite so much, but if I’m ever going to convince them to help, I need to prove I’m serious. Besides, speeding things up is a good thing. I know what it’s like to go to bed hungry. I used to get so desperate for anything to make my mind off my stomach, I’d chew my fingernails until they bled.
“I’m going to hand out food at one of my shelters tomorrow,” I tell them, pretty certain I can make it happen. “If you come along, you can help me ensure everyone gets their fair share. But if the sharks operate unchecked…” I shrug. “Handing out food might do more harm than good.”
Keren shakes her head. “As soon as we turn up, the police will arrest us.”
“They won’t. I’ll come alone, with just a few guards. And with Cale.”
“And a squad of knights waiting to burst in and take us down?” Spade snorts. “You expect us to believe you’re for real?”
“How about if I invite the media, and independent reporters can broadcast the whole event live to the feed?” I ask. “After the announcement I made today, trying to arrest you would make me look bad. It’d be terrible for my image, and there’s an election coming up.”
They don’t look impressed, but it’s all I can offer.
“I’ll be there,” says Cale. “And I can promise you, she’s telling the truth.”
“We’ll think about it.” Keren disconnects the call.
I turn to Cale, trying not to let him see that I already regret being so impulsive. Now I’ve committed myself to taking food to the shelter when there’s a good chance the Fist won’t turn up. Trying to distribute food without them is sure to lead to trouble.
Cale shoots me a smile. “Cheer up. That went better than I thought it would. You were convincing.”
“Really? You think they’ll actually turn up at the shelter?”
“I’ll call them again later. Don’t worry, I’ll talk them into it.” He nods at the holo display. “You understand all those numbers?”
“Weirdly, I’ve figured out what they mean.” I lift a hand to flip through different spreadsheets. “This is a list of all the food we manufacture at the factory, with daily production totals. This one shows manufacturing costs, and here are the distribution details. I’ve been cross-referencing the numbers to work out what we can afford to give away.” I screw my nose up. “Sentin was worried I’d bankrupt the Morelle Corporation. I’d hate to prove him right.”
Cale blinks. “That’s a lot to figure out.”
“I didn’t think I’d be able to do it, but it hasn’t been as hard as I expected.” A flush of pride comes through in my voice. I’ve never done anything like it before.
Instead of looking impressed, Cale frowns. “The Skin must be affecting your brain. It’s changing the way you think.” The way he says it makes it obvious how much he hates the idea.
“Is it a bad thing if it makes me smarter?”
“How can you even ask that? What if it changes everything, and you lose who you are? What if you transfer back into your own body and you’re not Milla anymore?”
“I’m still me.”
He shakes his head, his jaw set. “It’s not worth the risk. Give the Skin up. I’m pretty sure Sentin will agree to take over.”
“Not until I’ve made Old Triton less of a hellhole.”
“Is it worth letting your brain be changed by that thing?”
“Yes.” I say it without hesitation, without even needing to think about it.
Cale stares at me a moment longer. Then he lets out a long breath. “I hope you’re right,” he mutters, turning toward the door.
I watch him leave with an uneasy feeling churning in my stomach. But as it turns out, organizing enough food to be delivered to the shelter so quickly keeps me busy enough that I don’t have time to worry about anything else. I spend hours arranging it, and by the time I get to the shelter the next day, all I can do is hope that I haven’t wasted my time. If Keren and Spade don’t show up, the sharks will gorge themselves.
It’s a weird feeling striding briskly through the doors of the shelter I used to live in, with my high heels clacking over the grimy floor. I left here with my wrists shackled, covered in Rayne’s blood. Now I’m walking back in as the most powerful woman in Triton.
Life is strange.
Walking with me, alert for danger, are six of my personal guards. I could have brought a few of the forty-seven remaining knights instead, but they’ve killed too many sinkers for that to be a good idea.
Behind the guards, a couple of reporters are broadcasting my arrival, adding their own commentary so everyone in Triton can watch. The Beast might be watching as well. He might see this as an attack on him and the other industrialists. If I get my way, he’ll be forced to start looking after his workers as well, so he’d better get used to it.
The shelter still stinks like old sweat and wet clothes. The smell is all too familiar, and if I close my eyes, the memory of my old fear is so vivid, I could almost go back to being the old me.
>
So I don’t close my eyes.
Instead, I scan the large room, looking for Cale, who promised to bring Spade and Keren to meet me here.
I can’t see Cale among the curious throng of people who’re gaping at me. They’ve watched me on the holo plenty of times, and I remember how strange it was the first time I saw Morelle in the flesh. It feels just as odd to be on this side of the staring faces, especially when I recognize some of the workers who are gazing at me. Some are people I’ve worked with. One or two I’d call friends. And there are sharks, too.
I’m tempted to look for the shark who killed Rayne, and have to force myself not to. Anyway, what would I do if I found him? Arrest him for no apparent reason and have him hauled away? Sure he’d deserve it, but how would it look?
“There you are.” Cale emerges from the crowd. With his bronzed skin, tweaked face, and New Triton clothes, he stands out almost as much as I do. Unstained by the grey dirt that coats the floor of the shelter, standing in front of the crowd of thin, sunken-eyed workers, Cale looks like a movie star from the holo. It was how Rayne looked when she walked into the shelter wearing her beautiful blue coat. When I first saw Rayne, she made me feel like even more of a monster than usual. Judging by the way some of the sinkers are shrinking back as they stare at Cale, they feel the same way.
“Did Keren and Spade show up?” I hold my breath.
He angles his head toward my guards. “They’re here. They’ll come out if you lose your entourage.”
“You did it.” My chest lightens. “And they’re not just here to kill me?”
He doesn’t smile at my joke. “No guarantees,” he says grimly.
I tell my guards to look after the food crates, which are being brought in and stacked in one corner of the large room, and Cale and I move to one of the dining tables near the food machines. Though that area is crowded, empty space immediately clears for Cale and me, so we don’t have any trouble finding a vacant table.
When we sit down I lean forward and murmur quietly to Cale. “Everyone looks just as miserable as I remember.”
He replies just as quietly. “Give it time. You haven’t been President Morelle for long.”
I’m not even sure why it’s become so important to make things better for Old Triton. Maybe Cale’s rubbed off on me. He’s not even a sinker, and he’s a member of the Fist, dedicated to helping a city he doesn’t live in. Compared to him, I’ve been selfish. I only thought about my own survival for so long, I have a lot to make up for.
Keren emerges from the crowd with Spade behind her. Spade is limping, probably still feeling the effects of their battle with the knights. Keren treats me to a narrow-eyed glower, scratching her broken arm under its sling. Neither of them sit down, but stand on the other side of the table, keeping it between us.
“I don’t blame you for being suspicious,” I tell them. “In your place, I would be too. So thank you for coming.”
“We brought plenty of friends,” growls Spade. “If you try to arrest us, it’ll get ugly.”
I hook my thumb at the crates in the corner. “There’s the food. I was honest with you. I really do need your help to distribute it.”
Keren glances at the crates, then quickly back again, as though she’s afraid my plan is to attack her while she’s looking away.
“I’ll need you when I bring in medicine as well,” I add. “And other essentials, like clothing, and blankets for people to use on icy winter nights until I can I get decent heating installed.” I stop, because how would President Morelle know how freezing it gets inside her shelters at night?
“Why are you doing this?” Spade scowls at me.
I stand up. “Help me hand out the food I brought with me, then we can talk.”
Without waiting to see if they’re going to follow, I cross to the stack of crates and direct my guards to start levering off the lids. Inside are boxes of food bars, the good quality ones, only sold in the best New Triton stores. They’re called YumYum Bars, and they have a colorful wrapper, a sweet, melt-in-your-mouth flavour, and are packed with nutrients. According to the spreadsheets I went through, the Morelle Corporation usually sells them for about five times as much as they cost to make.
I brought enough bars for every grunt to have one. Tonight, at least, they’ll go to bed with full stomachs.
When I turn, I find Cale right behind me, with Spade and Keren a little further back, gaping at the contents of the boxes. Behind them, the reporters are focusing their cameras on the stack of food, and probably zooming in for dramatic effect.
“How are we going to do this?” asks Cale, glancing behind him at the gathering crowd. “There must be, what, a few hundred people in here?”
“This shelter sleeps up to two thousand people. It has six levels.” I turn to Spade and Keren. “You said you brought friends with you. We can hand out the food here, but we’ll need help to make sure everyone gets to eat what we give them. You know how cut-throat this place is.”
Keren blinks, her gaze still fixed on the food bars. “You have thousands of food bars?” She sounds awed.
“Two thousand.”
“They must be worth a fortune.” She tears her eyes away from the crates, looking around nervously and scratching her wide nose with the hand that’s not strapped up. “A target for thieves.”
“So? Want to hand them out? The reporters are watching, and this is your chance to show everyone that the Fist are the good guys.” I eye the people who are inching closer. I doubt any will have been handed anything for free before, and they’re bound to be just as suspicious as Keren and Spade.
A girl is standing to one side. Her arms are crossed and she’s wearing a defiant expression that reminds me so much of Tori, my heart contracts.
I grab a bar out of the crate and toss it to her before she can think about vanishing back into the crowd. She catches it by reflex, then blinks at it.
“Have you ever had one?” I ask. When she shakes her head, I motion for her to try it.
She rips the wrapper open and takes a bite. The crowd are all staring at her now, so they see the delight spread across her face as she chews. “It’s good,” she mumbles with her mouth full. “It’s really good.”
The reporters train their cameras on her, and I can’t help but smile at her expression. I know all too well what kind of miserable day she must have had, slaving in one of the factories that now belong to me. Every day was the same when I lived here, and nothing good ever happened. If somebody had handed me one of these bars then, I’d have looked even more surprised than she does.
The people around her murmur to each other, then press closer to the crates, clearly wanting their own bars.
I tug a small tablet out of my pocket. Just like tossing the YumYum Bar to the girl, I throw the tablet to Spade. “Here’s a list of everyone who sleeps in this shelter. They get one bar each, and they can swipe their bands as they collect their share. I’ll have more food delivered tomorrow, so we need to get a better system going. We can do it this way once, but it’s not going to work long term.”
Spade stares down at the tablet. Keren keeps her gaze on me, with her eyes narrowed. Then her mouth firms and she gives me a nod. With her good hand, she grabs some bars out of the crate. “Listen up.” The shout booms surprisingly loudly out of her short, wide frame. “You gotta line up to get your share, and swipe your band so we know you’re done. One each, no exceptions. Move to the side to eat, and stay where we can see you. Then move on. Give us any trouble, or if we catch any thieving, we’ll beat your sorry asses into the ground.”
Cale shoots me a grin. “Looks like we’re going to get it done.” He grabs some bars and stands next to Keren as the crowd starts forming a line. “You’d better move back. Some people might not want to get in line if you stay too close.”
I motion my guards to retreat with me, and we head toward the door. But I don’t want to leave yet, in case Cale and the others run into trouble and need help. Besides, I want to wat
ch people eat. Seeing their faces as they bite into the bars makes my chest fill with air, like I can lift off the floor and float away.
Leaning against the wall near the door, I watch as word about the food spreads, and people pour down from the shelter’s other levels to join the ever-growing line. We’re definitely going to need more Fist members to help with everything I have planned.
I want to make things better at every shelter, including the one Ma worked in. Maybe she’ll even want to come and lend a hand. She must still have friends there, and she’ll probably get a kick out of it.
Shame I can’t distribute food in every shelter in Triton, but I doubt the Beast, or any other factory owner in his little club, will let me feed people in the ones they own.
A lot more people are eating now, and for the first time ever, the shelter is full of smiles. Tired faces have been transformed. A group of women are sharing a joke and laughing together as they wait for their turn at the front of the line. Such a simple thing to give out food, but the gift is lifting peoples’ spirits.
This can’t be a one-time thing. I need to make sure these people keep being fed.
What if I gave a food factory to the Fist? They could run it, not for profit, but to feed Old Tritoners. And what if I—?
An alarm sounds from the door. A man is barging his way inside the shelter, and the scanners are flashing. The stompers who usually guard the doors are nowhere in sight, and the man’s holding something shiny.
Heart thudding, I push myself away from the wall. The man has a popper. When he scans the room, his gaze falls on me and a slow, evil smile spreads over his face.
He’s some distance away, and when he speaks I wouldn’t be able to hear him if it weren’t for my Skin’s enhanced senses.
“The Beast sends his regards,” he says. Then he draws his arm back and hurls the explosive at me.
Seven
As the popper arcs toward me, I grab two of my guards and yank them sideways, trying to drag them out of its path. In spite of the high heels and business suit I’m wearing, my Skin is fast enough to get away. But I can’t leave the guards to get blown up. They’re big men, slow and heavy, and their reflexes aren’t nearly as sharp as mine.
