“You’re late.”

“Sorry,” said Mateo. “Ran into a Lumin attack, if you’ll believe it.”

“No shit?”

Mateo sat across from a man in a dimly lit bar he’d found down some back alley of the Gwae. It was a nice, inconspicuous joint, with a pianist up on the stage tapping slow, sexy music out of the piano, good looking waitresses and pricey drinks. But it was all dim and full of smoke and had that indefinable vibe of a place where criminals assembled and made arrangements. The fence gestured and the woman came over and put a glass of whisky in front of Mateo. Ice rattled in the glass. She leant down over Mateo’s shoulder with a twist of orange in her hand and slowly massaged it round the lip of the glass. He could smell her perfume. He didn’t look over. She stood and drifted off.

Once she’d left, the man reached over the table and took the glass of whisky from out in front of him. He sipped it. Mateo flushed the thoughts of the waitress out of his head and looked at the fence.

“Yeah,” he said. “Small one, though, I only saw one Lumin. FR did their thing and it was all over in a few minutes. It’s Phelix, right?”

“That’s right. Nice to meet you. Damn, I aint seen a Lumin attack with my own eyes in. Well, too many years. Who was on response, did you know ‘em?”

“Le Lance was there, but he didn’t do too much that I could see. I didn’t know the other one. Was slinging this expanding sack of purple stuff around. You know her?”

“Sure, Merint, sounds like. Small fry FR, then.”

“You keep up?”

“Yeah, just about,” said the fence.

He was an old guy with a plain, handsome face. Tan, leathery skin, deep set twinkling eyes, a fop of gray hair, 5 o’clock shadow, full red lips. It was a good face, the kind of face everyone in the trade wanted to have. Sly but still commanding. He looked like he had been born in this place and shortly thereafter installed on his comfortable chair in the corner, drinking whisky on the rocks with a twist of orange since time immemorial.

He winked. “Free drink’s only if you get here on time, I’m afraid,” he said. He took another sip, then set down his glass and leant back in his chair. “You brought it?”

Mateo looked back at him. He tugged at the sleeve of his biker jacket, tried to mimic the man and lean back in the rickety wooden chair which had been left for him, wobbled and leaned forward. He didn’t say anything. Phelix nodded.

“That’s a shame,” he said. “I’ve got your X right here.”

“You thought I was just gunna pass it over?”

“I didn’t think nothing. I’ve got your X right here, Smoke. That’s all I’m saying.”

Was Phelix suggesting he was the kind of man that walked around with 600 X in his pocket all the time? Despite the way he looked, and his involvement in this deal, Mateo was fairly confident that this was not the case.

“It’s not enough,” said the boy.

“It’s not enough,” repeated Mateo.

Phelix nodded slowly, smiling. “Why ever not? That’s a lot of X for an F-boy like you.”

Mateo shrugged.

“Doesn’t matter what I am. Matters what I’ve got stashed away in that box. We want more than 600 for it. We’re not a chartered gang. We’ll sell it where we like.”

Phelix paused, his glass halfway to his lips. He put it back down on the table.

“You wanna be careful, Smoke. Saying shit like that to a guy like me.”

Mateo shrugged again. He wondered how the man knew his name.

“I do?”

“Sure. You wanna get on jobs like this one, you gotta play ball. This is high profile shit, Smoke, we don’t just chuck it along to anyone. Prince is the only reason you got this job. Frankly I was expecting him to come tonight. If I know my guy’s gunna sell me up the river every time I send him some work, he’s not my guy. Work well with me and you’ll get bigger numbers, no question. For now I wanna see if you can play ball.”

Mateo took his time, pretending to think. He wished he had a drink to sip and thought about ordering one. He nodded. On stage, the pianist finished his tune and everyone clapped. He stood up and wandered off towards the bar. A woman sat down on the stool, pulled it a little closer to the edge, crossed her legs in her slitted red dress and started talking to people in the crowd in a hushed, secretive tone. She was beautiful.

Mateo said: “Sure man, that’s fine. But I had a look in the box and it’s worth a hell of a lot more than 600 X. If you’re the guy I’m talking to, that means you’re just the guy who listed the job. You’re not the one who wants it. You’ve got a buyer all lined up, don’t try and convince me otherwise. I’m willing to bet 600 X is the price you set, not him. I’m willing to bet there’s a bit of wiggle.”

Phelix shook his head. He didn’t say anything. He gestured and a bottle of beer in a green, frosted bottle appeared in front of Mateo.

“He’s warming to you,” said the boy, chuckling. Phelix leant forward and spoke.

“Don’t let me pretend I’m anything I’m not, Smoke. I am but a pawn in this great city. A nobody, a middleman. A schmuck. I don’t know what’s in that box, and I don’t want to. I just know I’ve got a pocket thick with 600 X that I could slide across this table right now. And I can help you make friends, you know.”

Mateo nodded. He sipped his beer, looked at the bottle. Jeanspard. Expensive.

“That’s nice to hear, Phelix. Hopefully we can keep working together. I’d like that. But that kind of money is all in the future. This job we did for you, it wasn’t an easy job. It was dangerous. One of our guys is in the hospital, did you hear about that? But we did it good. I hope I hear from you again, Phelix, truly, but as it stands with this one? I’m looking for 800.”

Phelix snorted and shot back his drink.

Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

“You’re looking for 8? Can’t do it. I’m looking for 6. Your numbers are all wrong. You don’t know the worth of a thing.”

Again, Mateo nodded. He kept his eyes on Phelix, tapped his hand against the table, kept his body still. He shrugged.

“I’m willing to bet you’ll give me 8. It’s a gamble I’m making.”

Phelix watched him. He spun the whisky glass on the table with his finger tips.

“Fine. I like you, Smoke. You’ve got your head screwed on your neck and that’s a rare thing with a kid your age. I’ll give you 750 for the box. Take that 750. I’m spoiling you. Take it or else get the fuck out of my bar.”

= = = = = = =

“You’re late.” Said Riai, opening the door. She stood, 5 foot and a little bit more, her head to one side, scrutinising Mateo. She had the immortal look of a young woman destined for a long life of motherhood and family rulership. She shared his black hair, his freckles, his nose and his ears, but her lips were thin where his were full and she had their fathers eyes, red. Even among the Rhata red eyes are rare, a mark of beauty and a sign that you are special.

“No I’m not,” he said, shuffling his feet. ”It’s eight.”

Riai stuck her hands on hips, and it was a threat.

“Seven thirty, we said.”

Mateo pushed past her and into the apartment. “Well if you live out in the sticks than you can expect people to be showing up late to your apartment. Why do you guys live out here, anyway? It’s a shithole neighborhood full of bad characters. You should be somewhere better.”

Raia lived with her husband in a twin tower block in Westside Szuisk, not far from the border with Zone Nine. Westside Szuisk had thin olmet coverage and was therefore susceptible to Lumin attacks. This in turn lowered the property value, which in turn attracted the poor and destitute and criminal, and made it a dangerous neighborhood. Mateo had tried on several occasions to convince her to move, but she wouldn’t hear of it. They were saving for a mortgage and needed the cheap rent.

He took off his jacket and looked for somewhere to hang it. Riai shut the front door. There were hooks on the back of it. The sleeve had gotten rolled up inside and he fiddled to pull it out again.

“Oh shut your mouth, Teo,” she said. “Don’t start. We live where we can afford. Here, give me that. Why you gotta kick trouble the moment I see you, huh?”

He passed over his jacket and she pulled out the sleeve and hung it, not looking at him. Then she turned around. They stood across each other in the small hallway by the door.

“You found yourself a job?” he asked, glancing at his boots.

“Yeah, I found one.” She pushed past him. “I’m a bookkeeper.”

“A what?”

“A bookkeeper,” she repeated, smiling over her shoulder as she walked through to the kitchen. Raia was always like that, full of fire. One moment she wanted to kick your eggs out between your legs, next she was all cuddling and sweet. Even as a little girl she’d been like that. “I keep the books for Mr. Vandaros down the road, two days a week.”

“I don’t know what that is, Raia. Bookkeeping.”

“Mr. Vandaros has got ledgers full of all the things he sells and who he sells ‘em to and how much for and so on. He’s got heaps of them and they are a mess. I go through and I sort them out so that he knows what’s what with his business. It’s good work. I’m good at it. I like it.”

“Bookkeeping?” asked Sevit, coming up off the couch and clasping Mateo’s hand. They shook and hugged. “She loves it, won’t shut up on it. How’s things, Mateo? I’m glad you could come over. We don’t see you enough.”

“I’m great, Sevit.”

“Up to trouble?”

Mateo grinned. “That’s right,” he said, shrugging his shoulders, unashamed. “How’s work?”

“Work’s work. I don’t mind it. Wages went down, though. You hear about that?”

Sevit was a big guy, muscular, with a short, thick black beard and bushy eyebrows. He was a good man and a stand up member of the community, led his team at the Gougsu Industrial Yard where he worked on the forges. He’d been doing industrial work since he was 14. He was the opposite kind of guy to Mateo, but Sevit got on well with everybody and Mateo’s life as a biker wasn’t a problem.

“I saw ‘em over in Groshee, protesting,” said Mateo. “But I didn’t hear. They dropped the wages down? Damn. How can they drop the wages again? Fuckers.”

“Don’t swear,” said Riai. She took a tray out of the oven and lay it on the counter.

“Sorry,” muttered Mateo.

“You wanna beer?” asked Sevit.

Mateo nodded. “Thanks. Can I do anything Riai?”

“No,” she said. “It’s ready. Just sit. Not there, the chairs wobbly. It’ll tip you. Sevit, take these over. And this. Fine, good, lets eat. Teo, I hope you like bulgogi.”

Mateo smiled. She knew perfectly well he loved bulgogi. He loaded his plate and passed the dish to Sevit, then spooned rice and cabbage and bulgogi onto a disc of rice paper. He wrapped it and stuffed half the roll in his face, chewing the succulent meat with eager, starved relish before swallowing. He felt Riai watching him.

“It’s delicious,” he said, nodding and grinning with a mouthful of food. Riai nodded.

“I bought the beef this morning. Fresh from the farms.”

The three settled down into an easy pattern of eating and they didn’t talk for a while. An intermission came up as they all prepared another bulgogi.

“I was just telling your wife, Sevit, that you guys gotta get outta this place. The streets are littered with trash, and the people! They’re rock milkers, most of ‘em. It’s not safe for her.”

Sevit looked embarrassed. Riai lay down her roll, lay a hand flat on the table and stared venom at Mateo. But she let Sevit speak.

“You’re too right, Mateo. But what can we do? It’s all we can afford right now. I can’t get anymore income than I got. I’m busting my ass ten, twelve hours spitting fire into the gens.” He scooped up a small morsel of bulgogi that had spilled onto the table and popped it into his mouth. “I’ve not got anymore to give ‘em.” He shook his head. Riai reached over and took his hand, and with her eyes she shot more ange at Mateo. He felt the shame flushing up his face.

“Ah, sorry,” he said. “Sorry. I’ve been whirling these past days and I’m not even sure what’s coming out of my mouth anymore. I just, I don’t like seeing it. I got a shock, a bit, riding in here. I’m worried to park my bike even. Still-. I know you’re doing all that you can.” He cleared his throat and looked away. “I’ve got a bit of X for you, just a bit to help along.”

Riai let go of her husbands hand and resumed eating. Her face softened. She shook her head.

“You’ll do no such thing. We’re fine. We’re here and that’s that. Sevit’s up for promotion next month, aren’t you now? Once he’s a junior foreman we can get somewhere fancier.”

Sevit shrugged.

“Yeah,” he said. He smiled at Mateo. “Up for promotion every month, eh?” He winked. “Let me get you another beer.” He went and got one, and one for himself. Riai wasn’t drinking. Then he said, “Truth be told, I’m tempted to join ‘em.”

“Who?” asked Mateo, chewing.

“The protestors.” Said Riai. “The union.”

“Why don’t you?” asked Mateo. “I would.”

Riai scoffed. She leant over and speared a piece of cabbage off of his plate and ate it, smiling. “We know you would. You wouldn’t last one minute doing real work.”

Mateo bristled, but he didn’t argue. She was right. Sevit had a shit deal but it was the hand most rhata were dealt. Mateo had taken a different path in life. He wanted bigger things. Sevit went on quietly, almost to himself:

“If I join up, I might lose my job. Then I don’t know what we’d do. But maybe I just have to. Only way anythings gunna change in this city. It worked for my pap.”

“It didn’t work for ours,” said Riai. It had the tone of a well rehearsed argument. Sevit frowned and focused on the job of carefully folding his rice paper. He didn’t say anything more. Riai fidgeted in her seat, neglecting the fully prepared roll of bulgogi on her plate.

She said, “Actually, there is some news.”

Mateo looked at her, his mouth full of food. “Yeah?” he said, around it. She didn’t respond, was looking at Sevit. “Go on then,” said Mateo. “What is it?”

Riai looked at her plate. “Well,” she said. Then she paused. She picked up her uneaten bulgogi and looked at it like she didn’t understand it, an odd look on her face. Sevit was watching her, smiling.

“What?” said Mateo, swallowing too much food. “Go on, spit it out.”

“Pregnant,” she said quickly. “I am, I mean.” She looked at him, smiling meekly.

“You’re what?” said Mateo. His mind was blank.

“With child, Mateo. You understand the basics of procreation? You’re going to be an uncle.”

Mateo sat frozen, bobbing slightly from side to side. Then he spat out his half chewed bulgogi onto his plate, tipped back his chair in his rush to stand, and jumped over to his big sister. He dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms around her. Riai started to cry. Astonishingly, Mateo found he was doing the same.