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When I went to bed the plan had been that I would join Trude and Jenny on a work team and start to reclaim some food credit that way, so I got up early. It had taken me forever to get to sleep. It kept going around and around in my head that somehow Corina had trashed my food credit out of spite for arguing with her. I had a feeling that if she was smart enough to be screwing with haloes and implants, then she certainly had the smarts to mess with my food rations. But there was another part of me that didn’t think she could be so mean. She knew there was no other way I could get food.
I slipped out of our room before the others woke, holding my bag in front of me to hide a morning ‘embarrassment’. As well as dreams of Corina in the mirror, my subconscious had prodded me in my sleep and reminded me that if I went to the usual place at Finsbury Square, Fat Stan would see me from his window and I would have to run for it. Excuses wouldn’t work on him today.
So I took myself for an early morning walk, over the river and a mile or so west, wishing I had taken an extra food ration out of my stash for breakfast. I found a food station and asked the attendant where the nearest work area was. There was no point in making him suspicious by trying my thumb on the dispenser again. He gave me directions to a marshalling point farther along the river, at a place called Bankside.
It looked familiar when I got there. There was what was left of a wispy bridge across the river, pointing towards the collapsed dome of a big church. Trude wasn’t into the religion thing, so we never went anywhere near them. People were starting to gather when I got there, sitting around in small groups on a grassy area outside some old building. You could just make out the word ‘Tate’ near the top of the wall. I wandered up to one of the groups, putting what I hoped was a neutral smile on my face.
‘Is there a Wrangler around here?’ I asked. It looked like a family group: mother, father, two kids over ten. The father glared at me and the mother quickly caught the attention of the children and talked loudly to them about anything other than me.
‘No idea what you’re talking about,’ he said, and turned away too.
Weird. Everybody had Wranglers. How could people be so different when they lived so close together? I wandered away from the family group. People nearby had noticed the exchange, and I was being stared at. When I flicked a glance over my shoulder, the father had turned back to glare at me. I walked quicker.
Off to one side and away from the scene I had just left were a group of boys, my own age or a bit older. They might be a less hung up than the family, so I wandered up to them and squatted on my heels at the outside of their group. ‘Where do I find the Wrangler around here?’
Again, the reaction was all wrong; they flicked glances between each other, and stared at me, before the one closest to me swallowed hard and spoke. ‘There’s Eddie, around the corner. You sure, man? You really don’t look the type.’
‘Type for what? I’ve been a mule for years.’
The guy closest to me grimaced, whilst his friends did another round of twitchy glances. It was starting to get annoying. ‘Look, Eddie’s not... nice, OK?’
I grinned and got to my feet. ‘Never met a Wrangler who was.’
The directions took me to a narrow alley that looked dark even in daylight. Two men, leaning against the wall and chatting to each other, stood up straight and took an interest in me as soon as they saw I was walking towards them. 'Go play somewhere else, kid,’ said the blonde one. They were both heavily built, and had the sleeves of their tunics torn off to better show the muscles in their arms.
‘I need to see Eddie,’ I said, praying my voice wouldn’t crack. They both laughed, obviously at me not with me.
‘Run along, little chicken,’ said the blonde. ‘Eddie don’t need nothing as fresh as you.’
The other guy put his hand on Blondie’s arm. ‘Not so fast.’ He looked me up and down, and there was a hunger burning in his eyes that made me think I ought to leave. I didn’t miss the way he squeezed the blonde guy’s muscle, either. ‘Let’s let Eddie decide. There might be a special in the books.’ He smiled at me again and stood aside.
Their eyes burned into my back all the way down the alley and the skin across my shoulders prickled. The alley ended in a yard of packed earth. A cabin, resting on punctured tyres, sat on one the shady side. In the sun was a table, a pair of chairs, and a woman.
I’d never seen anybody dressed like her. She wasn’t wearing Dag issue clothes. She had a garment like trousers on, but the material was black and shiny and looked too tight. Instead of a work shirt, she had a soft white blouse that also looked too tight, and that showed off what was beneath it very clearly. Things glittered around her wrist and neck, and there were sparkles hanging from her ears.
‘Hello, sweetie. What can I do for you?’ Her voice was deep and her astonishingly red lips curled up in a smile.
‘I’m looking for work.’
‘The scavenger crews are out front, dear,’ and she looked away, already dismissing me.
‘I’m a mule,’ I said, louder than I should have. I was getting annoyed at all the fuss. All I wanted was a job for the day. I was hungry.
‘Really?’ An eyebrow arched as she turned her face back to me. ‘I haven’t seen you before.’
‘I just moved here,’ I lied. ‘I used to live farther north.’
‘And how many rides have you done, little donkey? Three or four?’
‘At least fifty on sight and sound, only a few on full sensory.’
The eyebrow went up again. ‘My, you are experienced. If you have no objection to full sensory, I can find something for you. Come to the door, but no further.’
By the time I reached the metal steps going into the cabin, she was inside. A moment later she pushed a thumb scanner out through the door. I placed my thumb on it, and she disappeared again. She seemed to be gone a long time, but eventually she came out and leaned against the door frame. She looked troubled. ‘Beat it, kid.’’
‘What?’
‘I said get out of here. You’re no good to me. Your account comes up blocked and your status says you are blacklisted. Nobody will offer you work, even in my line.’ She looked up at me, and her eyes met mine. ‘Then again, if you ever get that restriction lifted, come see me. I’m sure we can find you work.’ Her eyes dropped away. ‘For now, get out.’
I walked back up the alley, furious. What was Corina playing at? First she took all my food, then she stopped me earning any more. Worse, when I got back to the work yard, all the scavenger crews were already assigned and the buses had left. I had nothing to do but go home.
I stopped half way across London Bridge and looked downstream to the broken arms of Tower Bridge, one pointing straight up, the other bent down towards the water. Maybe it wasn’t Corina, or maybe I should try to talk to her, to find out what I did wrong and apologize.
The halo was still in my pocket, but when I took it out a part of me wanted to throw it into the river and start my life over somewhere else. Someone at one of the food dispensers would be able to tell me what to do. But there was still a feeling of unfinished business. I lifted the halo and slipped it on.
Nothing happened. It loosened up, then settled around my head, but that was it. There was no sound, no mental ‘click’ as it connected. I waited a few minutes, though I wasn’t sure why, then took it off again. It seemed like a long walk back to the Tower.
I went back to my stash. There was much more chance of being spotted during the day, so I was careful and quick and only took three food blocks before I snuck out again. That was half my supply gone. I’d never thought to keep more than eight or ten rations hidden away. They had always been for snacks, or topping me up if I’d had a busy day. Sometimes they had been for when I was down and I wanted to treat myself. I’d never looked on them as being a reserve in case anything went wrong. Once I’d eaten these three, I had enough for another day, or two if I budgeted myself.
I went out onto the floor again to eat. Today I sat staring at the Dag ship, rather than away from it, as if by staring at it I could understand what had happened. All I got was crumbs down my tunic and a sore backside from sitting in the same place for too long.
Jenny was first back from the scavenge. That wasn’t unusual; Trude often stopped to chat, went to get food rations, or was just plain slower. When my sorta-sister saw me sitting in the commons she grabbed me by the arm and pulled me into our room. Once inside, she sat against the door. ‘What have you been up to?’ she whispered. Her eyes were open too wide.
‘Me? Nothing?’ I replied in a normal voice and she made frantic patting gestures.
‘Shh. Trude is on the warpath. Stan himself came over and spoke to her. She went bright red and they had an argument. It had to be about you. So what did you do?’
‘Nothing,’ I repeated and tried to pull her away from the door. At the same moment, it heaved inwards and Jenny flew across the beds in an untidy sprawl. Aunt Trude looked in through the doorway.
‘Good, you’re here. I don’t care what business you have with that unpleasant man, but sort it out. I don’t want him speaking to me like that in front of people again.’ She was all bundled up tight, wanting to be mad at me but not sure if she was right to be.
‘I’m sorry. A client cancelled a contract and I guess he’s not pleased. I don’t think he’ll bother you again.’
Aunt Trude hmphed and the matter was dropped. I stayed quiet for the rest of the night, but made sure I was around people. Jenny was looking for a chance to interrogate me again, and I had no intention of giving her the opportunity. Mind, it was fun watching her get more and more frustrated as the evening went on.