It was, as she was expecting, a bar.

She stood outside for a minute, hands in her pockets, watching the light seeping through boarded-up windows, the neon sign announcing the name of the place to everyone who might be passing by. And a silver eye, lidless, all-seeing, mounted above the door.

She sighed. If her father has taught her anything, it was how to get respect. At least the basics. Well, the theory of it, anyway. She never had a chance to put his occasional sayings and ominous adages to use, but she saw a whole room fall into silence the moment he appeared in the doorway.

It was a bad idea and very obviously an attempt to intimidate her – but what would become of her if she showed fear? If she hid away in her shop, or even worse, let herself be scared off, driven away? No. She is her father's daughter, after all. For better or for worse.

Pushing the heavy door, she braced herself for the noise and the lights, the bodies, and the heat, and entered the bar.

She stood at the threshold for a while, blinded and deafened by the life inside. She let the door close itself, hitting the doorframe with a thud and everyone looked her way, going silent, dozens of pairs of eyes observing her.

Then the moment passed, and life moved on and she stood there, forgotten and solitary as people pushed everywhere around her, laughing, talking, singing.

She located the bar and pushed through, waiting for the bartended to notice her. It was a slight ginger man with a side-cut, and it seemed to her like he was ignoring her on purpose. When he finally turned to her, his scarred mouth was turned up into a careful smile.

"What can I get ya, cutie?"

Amelie cleared her throat. "A beer, please."

The man's eyebrows shot up. "A beer for the lady, did ya hear that, Theo? Hurry up, I am sure she has somewhere else to be soon!"

"Actually, I do not. Have anywhere else to be. This evening, I mean." She felt her ears burn. She could her father's voice in her mind, growing louder and louder. "I know that you know who I am," she added, slight desperation to her voice.

"Do I now?" The man in the background yelled something and handed the bartender a plate full of food and drinks. "People come and go here. You cannot expect old Lokes to know everyone!" He flashed her a smile and disappeared into the crowds as he carried people their orders. While he was gone, the other man, a tall, burly blonde handed her her beer. It looked boring and unassuming among other people's colorful drinks and weirdly shaped glasses.

"That one's on the house," he said, "no one ordered a beer for days, almost forgot how to pour it properly." By the time he left, the ginger had come back.

"So, you were saying?"

"Nevermind," she shook her head and tasted her beer. It was bitter.

"Well, I am Lokes," he said, "and to be honest, I heard rumours about you. The rich Center girl that opened that fancy shop on the Main Street?"

"It is not a fancy shop," she mumbled. "It is an apothecary."

"For the people here, that equals to a fancy shop. The only medicine we know is semi-clean water and alcohol."

Before she could put in a word for herself, the Heatery went quiet again, and the atmosphere changed. She saw Lokes gaze above her shoulder and when she turned, there was a woman standing by the door.

People parted as she walked, slowly and purposefully, scanning the room as if she could read people's minds just by looking at them. She gave Amelie goosebumps. Once she stood in the middle of the room, all eyes on her, she opened her mouth.

"Dear friends," she said. "I see a lot of you have gathered here tonight."

Amelie saw Lokes tense, grabbing something under the counter. The woman saw him and walked over to the bar, settling on a stool right next to Amelie.

"Lokes," she said, "pour me something strong."

Being this close to her, Amelie felt smoke and chemicals. The woman was dressed all in black, a three-piece suit, hair pulled into a tight bun, a silver ring on each of her pointer fingers. Her presence was waking up something deep within Amelie, something familiar, but it was not until much later that she realized what it was: the primal urge to run, to make oneself small, to play dead, to hide in order to survive.

When Lokes placed a crystal glass filled to the top with a brown liquid, she stared at it for a moment, then mixed it with her finger. Her nails were long and painted red, Amelie noticed. She licked her finger and then took up the glass and turned on the stool so that she was facing the rest of the room – which still hadn't moved since her arrival, no one made a peep.

"My dear friends," she said, her voice low and yet, everyone heard her loud and clear. "My brothers and sisters. I came here tonight to deliver some sad news." She fell silent, her eyes gliding over everyone present. "My dearest friend, my closest ally was murdered." She sipped on her drink. No one said anything. "Nikolai Evli died in the Artemisia prison this morning." She raised her glass. "I would like it if you all remembered all the things he did for us. For the Outskirts. May he rest in peace knowing that we will not give up! That we will fight to the last man and woman until we take what is rightfully ours!" She was louder now, her voice raising, until she was almost screaming and the people – the majority of them – were watching her, frenzied. Some of them raised their glasses, too.

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Amelie was trying to calm her breathing.

She came here tonight expecting a fairy-tale monster and now she was sitting next to the most dangerous woman in Settlement CE-36.

She knew Evli, everyone did, a scapegoat who got shipped off to Artemisia a couple of years ago after a terrorist operation gone wrong while the real leader walked free. Anna Lee.

That woman – and Evli, by extension – was responsible for quite a few deaths among the Centre citizens. And Outskirts' low lives, too.

She tried hard to focus only on her beer, gripping it tightly to hide how bad her hands were shaking. Anna Lee was still talking, her voice ricocheting from the walls, returning ten times stronger. She was no longer speaking about Evli, she was talking about the Outskirts and class and money, and the people were nodding now, clapping, drinking to her health.

She looked up and saw Lokes watching Lee.

He was frowning, the scars around his lips pulled tight, a forgotten rag still in his hands. When Lee finally stopped talking and people went back to their own drinks, albeit in a different mood than before, he wordlessly put another glass in front of her.

"I am sorry about Evli," he said, "but I wish you'd stop doing this here."

"But it's good for the business, I believe," she said, drinking. "I don't think the place is usually this full."

"It's how we like it," Lokes answered. "And if you are quite done now, I'd like it if you could finish your drink and leave. I will make sure to have one for Nikolai in silence, later."

"Nikolai does not care anymore. He had his skull crushed in by a rock in a lithium mine. Another victim of this system we have built."

Lokes' frown deepened. "Do you actually care about it?"

"I care about everyone, Lokes. Everyone in the Outskirts. No one matters more to me than the other. Speaking of…" She suddenly turned to look at Amelie. "I have yet to know your new patron. And I know every face in here."

"Oh, she is just not very outgoing, you know," Lokes waved his hand casually, pouring another beer and setting it down in front of Amelie. "I was so happy when she finally turned up tonight, just her luck that she got to witness another one of your amazing speeches, too! Too bad it was because of such grim news, though, poor Nikolai, had a horrible fashion sense. Made everyone around him feel inadequate. I also really hated his impromptu history and philosophy lessons. But he was a joy to be around once you got him drunk or high."

"Shut your mouth, you stupid little liar." Suddenly, there was a knife in Lee's hand, and it was pressing directly under Lokes' Adam's apple. "I know she is not from here. She is a filthy Centre bitch; I can smell it."

"Well, yes, you got it, but she is harmless, I swear," Lokes had his hands up in surrender, almost cross-eyed as he was trying to look at the knife pressed to his throat. "She opened an apothecary; can you believe it? She is one of the naïve ones, believes she can help and shit like that."

Even as she was pressing the knife to Lokes' throat, she kept looking at Amelie, burning her with her gaze, studying her, and Amelie felt like a little girl again, trying to lie to her father about not stealing chocolate before lunch and having done all her homework. And she has never been a good liar.

"An apothecary?" For a brief moment, it seemed like Anna Lee was confused, out of her element, as if there was a fake flower where she was expecting a blade. "Here? In the Outskirts?"

"People need some sort of medicine," Amelie finally managed to speak for herself. "Something to help with a stomachache, a sore throat, offer at least some semblance of care."

"A semblance of care," Anna Lee repeated, seemingly deep in thought, as if fascinated, but the knife remained in place. Lokes gave up on keeping his hands in the air and just crossed them over his chest. "Are you openly calling yourself a liar? A fraud, a con woman?"

"That is not what I said," Amelie said. "I cannot heal anything serious, but I can make sure that the lesser things do not cause unnecessary suffering."

"And why would you exchange the comfort of the Centre for the damp and dirt and waste of the Outskirts?"

She considered this for a moment, bewildered. Why did she do it? How should she answer? That she wanted to free herself of her father? Somehow, that did not sound as a good enough answer to give to a seemingly trigger-happy terrorist.

"Because I feel like the people here are owed," she said, at last. "And no one else seems to be keen on paying their debts. So, it might as well be me."

Something like a smile, or at least a smirk appeared on Lee´s face. She released Lokes from the touch of her blade.

"Would you really fucking kill me?" he asked, rubbing his neck. "Your favourite bartender?"

"I don´t know, would I?" She kept her eyes on Amelie. "Owed, you say? What might the Centre people possibly owe us for?"

"Inequality," she answered.

"You must be the first Centre citizen to admit that something like inequality exists. I am impressed by your self-awareness."

"A society is comprised of individuals."

"But when it really matters, they act as a mass." Lee finished her drink and stood up. "I must go now. It was a pleasure… what was your name again?"

"Amelie."

"Amelie." She said her name like she was giving an order. She held her hand out and Amelie found it impossible not to grasp it. "See you around, Amelie. Give people the semblance of care they need."

As she left, Lokes watched her and when she was gone, the door was closed and the atmosphere in the bar as close to normal as it could get after a visit from a terrorist opposition leader, he let out a sigh of relief.

"Fucking hell. That was too close for comfort. I´m gonna need a drink myself." He leaned towards a half-closed door leading to the back and yelled. "Odran! Get your fucking ass here, I need a damn break! ODRAN!"

"Quit your yelling, you stupid ass, I am coming!"

Another man emerged from behind the door, elbowing Theo and standing next to Lokes, leaning against the counter to make sure that he could not get past him. He was tall and muscular and his hair, which might have been raven black in the past, was interwoven with grey and white streaks. A lone blue eye looked at Amelie before turning back to Lokes, whose ears were turning nearly the colour of his hair.

The other was covered with a brown eyepatch.

"Did Anna Lee bully you again, darling?" he asked Lokes and Amelie felt her cheeks going red.

"Bitch, you heard her and did nothing, just sat on your ass. She could have killed me!"

"I'd write her a thank you letter for ridding me of my worst headache. I see you have made a friend."

Amelie sat up, suddenly self-conscious. "I think I should go. It's getting late, I normally get ready for bed at this time."

"It is not even ten yet." Lokes raised his eyebrow.

"I am sorry, I am a terrible homebody, I should not have even come here in the first place."

She was already halfway through the floor, making her way past the people, muttering half-meant apologies, and getting a few curses in response. By the time she made it to the door, her head was spinning and when the night air finally hit her, it was like being freed.