I ain’t no big tough gangsta boy but I sure can climb. I’m wedged into the window frame of the PC BANG. Up on the first floor, looking for a route up to the second. Using my hands and legs to push out against the wall. Can’t see nothing through the window. All the windows covered up on the inside. Even though I’m right on the front of the building, street side, nobody looking at me. This is cause I set half the other side of the street on fire.

The Tower heavies that guard this place have run over to join in the chain gang, bringing buckets of Thames water. Fires can spread in Riverside, we ain’t got no fire trucks. I reach up to the bottom lip of the big yellow PC BANG sign. I can use friction from my feet to hang onto the wall while I pull both my hands together either side of the sign. I can heave myself up, scrabble to catch up with my legs and pause a second. Take a deep breath. Go again.

And I’m up on the second floor, this bit is easy now. Got big thick signage to walk on and good hand holds. Pull myself through the open window. Not many people skinny enough to make it through this gap. Good being skelly boy sometimes.

Hit the carpet and roll. It’s dark in here. The noise of the fire outside is muffled.

The room comes into focus as my eyes adjust to the dark. Someone sleeps in here. Bed roll on the floor. Big old pile of empty noodle cartons. Posters of all kinds of foreign stuff. Them cartoons where everyone has massive eyes and pointy chins. I realise I been staring too long. Trying to see every single one of them. Hundreds of characters. All that asian writing. I can’t read English but I know what it looks like.

Lot of Asians in the Tower. It’s a gang where all different foreigners team up, otherwise the Guv’nors would dominate Riverside. So they all work together to balance it out.

I’m telling you this Blanky. Does it count as data?

“Actually yes. Everything you do, think, feel or perceive. Even when you remember stuff. It’s all data for me. Yum yum.”

Stay focussed you greedy pig. We’ll get proper beats if they catch us in here.

“Feed me Skelly, I will find you the Amfo.”

Alright mate I get it. Now let me think.

Blanky goes quiet.

I open the door as slowly as I can. The mechanism goes ping. I nearly cack myself.

But I ain’t got long. So I try to go fast and quiet.

I find the door to the fire stairs and sneak in. Peering over the railing, it’s all clear. I slide down the bannisters on my bum. I go all the way to the ground floor, I know that’s where most of the computers are.

People used to use these places just for playing games. They say that before the war everyone had loads of computers. Now, at least round here, most people can only get access at cafes like this one.

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I open the heavy fire door and walk out into the main cafe area. I’m trying to be Manleb. Walking like I belong here. Hoping they mistake me for a customer, if they don’t look too close, or smell the river on me, or see these teeth that ain’t been cleaned in weeks.

There’s rows and rows of computers. The only light comes from the screens and the weird rainbow coloured lights projected onto the ceiling. They change colour slowly. I try really hard not to stare. It’s really pretty.

“Look there, get a coffee.”

Why, though?

“You want to look like everyone else.”

Blankerton has a point. I walk up to a little black machine with loads of buttons and words. I press one and a little plastic cup pops out the bottom.

There’s only about a dozen heads in the room, and not one of them can look away from the screens. Maybe this is going to work?

There is a sound like a tiny handful of gravel hitting a wall. I jump. It’s just the machine putting coffee in the cup.

A man walks in. He is talking loudly to himself. No not himself, he has an earpiece. Got a phone, must be with the Tower. I’m trying to act normal. Heart pounding. He looks at me.

The hot water hits the cup and the machine hums. A beep.

The man looks away, heads behind the counter and crashes heavily into a big black chair on wheels. He’s deep into what sounds like an argument.

I pick up the cup and try to pretend it is not burning my fingers.

“That one.”

Blanky hovers above the screen that is both furthest from the cafe front door and furthest from the counter.

I sit on a busted old chair, it’s wobbly. The screen is covered in words. Some foreign, some English.

“It’s locked.”

What?

“You pay the man and he unlocks it for you.”

I’m stuck. Didn’t know this was how it worked. Didn’t know what I thought. Just didn’t think. Idiot Skelly! Having a menbung Skelly! Think!

Then the front door bursts open. It’s the shouty man from the stadium. I have a micro-flashback, to the night when the witches came and cut him to bits with rotocopters, hacked all the drones and swarmed him. He’s all bandaged up. He’s with two heavy boys in expensive suits. My throat goes very dry. I try not to breathe. He hates witches. What’s he doing here?

The man behind the counter gets up, a vape stick hanging from the corner of his mouth, looking for all the world like he’s bored. A shotgun appears from under the counter.

“No need Jun! We are here with permission from your bosses! Check your messages!”

He raises his hands to show he ain’t armed. His boys do the same.

Jun pulls a black rectangle out of his pocket and swipes his thumb about on the lights. It takes an awkward amount of time. He doesn’t rush.

“OK big man, do your thing.”

“OK Everybody stay calm, we’re protecting your community by looking for witches. We’re just going to check you over for witch markings then we’ll be gone.”

Blanky blanky blanky what do we do what do we do?

“Cut yourself.” Blanky whispers.