LITMIR.BIZ

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of sheets of black solar glass. The interior was cool and smelt strongly of industrial cleaner. Her sneakers’ soles squeaked on the polished poured-stone floors.

      The J’Veth drone at the reception desk waved them through a set of double doors that brought them into yet another long passage. The stark white of the walls made Nuri’s eyes ache. Then a sharp right turn into a space that reminded her of the waiting room in the clinic when they’d taken one of her pack-mates after he’d broken his arm.

      The guards made her sit in a chair next to a potted plant with glossy leaves. The strip lighting here made everything look artificial.

      Three closed doors, and nothing else. Not even a screen to scroll through the media feeds. If there was a Net signal, Nuri had no way of telling. She’d left her AR glasses back at the Den, so there wasn’t even any AR for her to log in to. Not that she liked AR much – it always left her slightly queasy. If she had an implant it might be another story, but so far Vadith hadn’t thought it necessary for her.

      Nuri should ask what was going on, but she had a feeling they’d just tell her to keep her mouth shut, which was embarrassing. At any rate, it was better to watch and wait, and see what sort of opportunity might come up. Her instincts warned her that while she might’ve broken in to the facility easily, getting out might not be as effortless. Especially since they were keeping a close watch on her.

      A door opened about five minutes later, and the guard nudged her to her feet.

      Alda stood at the threshold, smiling. “Come on in, child.”

      I’m not your child, Nuri wanted to say. But now was not the time to be contrary.

      The guards did not follow her in, into what was clearly Alda’s office. For a moment, all Nuri could do was stare at the room with its pale-cream finish and an entire wall that currently showed a semi-desert landscape scene where rock formations contorted into strange arches against a painfully blue sky. The air here was warm and smelt faintly of resin.

      Nuri would’ve gone straight to one of the comfortable armchairs in front of the big wooden desk, except that she saw who was seated in the chair to her right. It felt as if all the blood rushed right out of her head and into her toes.

      “Fadhil Tien,” she whispered. Of all people, he was the last she’d expected. He was most likely here to find out why she’d broken into his house.

      The man was more imposing in real life than in his pictures, and as he rose to his feet, flashing her a broad, white smile, she had to fight the impulse to turn and run for the door. A futile effort, in any case. She couldn’t let on that she was terrified, though she was sure it showed.

      Fadhil’s laughter was rich and deep. Belly laughter.

      “Come now, Nuri, I’m not going to eat you.” Fadhil grinned as if he was in on a secret joke.

      “Come take a seat. We have much to discuss,” Alda said.

      “What’s he doing here?” Nuri squeaked. She still hadn’t moved.

      “I’m to be your patron, if you’ll have me.” Fadhil held out a hand for Nuri to take, and all she could do for a few heartbeats was stare dumbly at his fingers. His smile reached his eyes, and when she dared to snake out a bit more of her psi-awareness, she didn’t pick up any immediate animosity.

      “Y-y-you’re not mad at me?” she asked. How had he even found her here?

      “Not you.” There – a small frown, gone in an instant. “Perhaps with Vadith, but then we’ve had plenty of water under the bridge over the years. Let’s just say that he and I are former business partners. I can’t be mad at you for following orders, can I?”

      Nuri sucked in a breath, then tentatively reached out and accepted Fadhil’s hand. His grip was firm and then he indicated for her to go first to sit down. As if she was some la-di-dah lady.

      Alda settled herself in an enormous wingback chair that was more like a throne – all honey-coloured leather. “What would you like to drink, Nuri? I’ve got the server bringing some coffee. Would you like coffee? It’s not synth.”

      “Real coffee?” Ancestors, that stuff was worth more than most folks made in a year.

      “Only the best.” Alda smiled.

      They were trying to buy her, weren’t they? Nuri dared to cut a glance in Fadhil’s direction, but he was sitting with his left leg crossed over the right, big hands clasped loosely in his lap. Not quite watching her study him. She turned back to Alda.

      “Yes, please.”

      Alda’s gaze grew distant for a moment while she communicated via her net connection, and then she focused on Nuri again.

      “I know that you must be deeply afraid and confused, but I would like to reassure you that you will not be harmed. Indeed, we’d like to offer you an opportunity available only to a select few.”

      Nuri licked lips that had gone dry. “I thought you were going to have me mind-wiped?”

      Alda spread her hands. “Consider this the alternative. Your arrival here was unprecedented and entirely unexpected, and it just so happens that Citizen Tien here” – she opened the fingers of her hand closest to Fadhil – “has graciously stepped into the breach.”

      “He’s a – ” Nuri stopped herself from saying “gang boss”.

      “An astute businessman, who knows an opportunity when he sees it,” Fadhil finished for her. His damned smile was so charming.

      Nuri hadn’t even mentioned Fadhil during the earlier interrogation, and there was no need to bring Vadith’s long-standing rivalry with Fadhil further into the picture. Not unless Alda or Fadhil brought it up, which she suspected they wouldn’t. Not here. Not now. She had a feeling it wasn’t relevant and that these people knew full well what Fadhil was all about.

      “Thank you, Citizen Tien.”

      Just then a server droid came in – a sleek model that moved on anti-grav so that it didn’t make a noise. The brushed-steel dome irised back to reveal the promised coffee, as well as a tiered stand loaded with pastries, both sweet and savoury.

      Nuri had only ever seen such perfect treats on the public screens. The few times she’d tasted anything even resembling the flaking crusts with their glistening fruit-preserve hearts, they’d been days-old, cast-off fragments that had found their way into the barrens. They’d still been delicious.

      “Have as many as you like,” Alda said.

      Nuri moved to help herself but hesitated halfway, and despite her growling tummy, thrust her hands under her armpits. “What’s the catch?” she asked through narrowed eyes.

      Fadhil’s laughter brought her up short. “There’s no catch, child.”

      “There’s always a catch,” Nuri hissed.

      “Child, child,” Alda said. “I know your background, and I can assure you that this is nothing like where you came from.”

      “But you want something from me,” Nuri said.

      “I do admit that yes, you have something special, but it is to all our benefit.”

      “What’s he doing here?” Nuri jerked her head in Fadhil’s direction.

      Fadhil remained amused. “If all goes according to plan, I will be your patron.”

      Still going on about the patron stuff. Whatever that meant.

      “Why?”

      “Because you’ll need one if you’re to stand among the Chosen. You want your Citizen implant, don’t you?”

      “A –” Nuri’s mind was awhirl.

      A chance to be a Citizen. To be logged on to the database. Basic

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