Page 59 of Skyn
Josh shuffles his notes for effect. His hands shake just enough to look vulnerable, honest.
Ben shoots to his feet. Josh flinches like he’s been struck. I grip Ben’s arm, digging in, begging with my eyes.Not yet.He sits down slowly.
Across the room, Lily beams. Her arm is looped through Michael’s like the show’s already over, and she’s taking her curtain call. Her eyes flick toward Ben, gleaming with smug satisfaction.
“I think Fawl may be a victim of his twisted desires,” Josh adds. “She’s confused. But I can get her the help she needs.”
The room goes ghostly.
The council—numbed by their own dampeners—can’t show shock. But silence is its own indictment.
Michael clears his throat. “My second witness is Ben’s former fiancée, Lily.”
“Isn’t she on the council?” I blurt out.
“Not yet,” Ben says quietly. “But marrying me—or Michael—would secure her a seat in the next few years.”
Lily glides to the front of the room with practiced reluctance, all soft footsteps and wounded grace.
“I was involved with Ben for three years,” she begins, her voice just above a whisper, fragile and elegant. “And it was…difficult.”
Michael rubs her back. “It’s okay,” he says softly.
She nods. And I hold down the bile rising in my throat.
These people make me sick.
“Ben started off lovely, but he became increasingly obsessed with skin. It made me feel…less than a woman. When his family tried to provide him with a skin bride, since they aid people in slaking their baser desires, I hoped it might help, but instead…”
“These are lies,” Ben seethes under his breath beside me. I feel the tension radiating from his body, a tight coil ready to snap.
“Instead, he married her. Making her a legal heir to the Iku fortune, along with whatever unmodded, barefoot children they have—your next Ikus. He’s medically unsound. It’s disturbing, really.”
The room freezes. Every sound—every breath—seems to vanish. Lily hit the exact right button, and she knows it.
“Ben, do you have any character witnesses on your behalf?” Someone from the board asks, almost disinterested.
Ben straightens. “My wife.”
The council member doesn’t even blink. “Your wife can’t testify. Anyone else?”
Of course, he has no one else. The silence that follows is devastating. Every gaze in the room dips away, human and cybernetic alike. They’re all cowards.
Then, to my surprise, Dru stands. “I can be a witness,” she says in her shaky voice. She looks like a woman desperately trying to disappear even as she forces herself forward. Josh pulls at her wrist, and she jerks away. There are purplish bruises on her upper arms, and I see her for what she is now: beautiful, yes, but also a woman with limited choices—just like I was.
She’s making her own choice now.
“I was at the same dinner as Josh, and Ben was nothing but a gentleman. Josh insulted him, provoked him, and Ben showed remarkable restraint.” Dru, in her rusting décolletage and dowdy sequined dress--a shadow of her former self. She wraps the scarf around her chest and waits.
Michael’s laugh slices through the room. “So…one. Is that all?”
Dru falters, her bravery flickering out as quickly as it came. She’s crushed, retreating from the podium like a gambler who backed the wrong racing bot. Josh yanks her down, and I fear for what her evening will bring. This could’ve been me, I think. There is nothing more dangerous than a disillusioned man and a bottle of palm wine.
“Thank you, Drusilla,” Ben says, standing slowly, as if giving the room time to realize what’s happening. He buttons his blazer, his eyes scanning the space. “So, you’re all in agreement then?”
“Society depends on the Iku to reap. If its architect fails…” The council member lets the sentence trail off.
“What if I can?” Ben says evenly.
