Page 6 of Skyn
“Oh, fuck off.”
I flash my collarbone to him, letting him see the diamond glint. “Should I look it up?” I pretend to connect to a neuro-link by tapping my temple.
He covers the hole with a sullen kick of his rusty metal boot and shoulder-checks me with enough force to knock me into another storefront.
“Another violation!” I shout to his back.
The shop owner frowns when he sees me slide my greasy body down his freshly washed windows, lips pursing in disapproval. His eyes flick over me—dirty coveralls, scuffed boots, unwashed hair—but they don’t land there. No, his gaze snags on the gleam at my collarbone. The diamond.
His eyes narrow.
An organ dealer can sell anything to anyone, they say, but I wouldn’t know. No one’s ever tried to sell me anything. I don’t even look like I have work credits to spare.
My hair is brown at the roots, the ends spiraling out in wild orangey-yellow coils. Mine red, it’s called. My mother once said I look like fall. That’s how she named me. Later, they’d find out the preponderance of redheaded, blonde-streaked children in the belowground isn’t genetic at all. It’s a protein deficiency.
I was the last of the children born to famine.
Food science moved fast. The Iku family effectively ended hunger in Sector Two, erasing it as neatly as an equation on a whiteboard. And because of it, they rule. Not like tyrants—nah, that shit demands too much effort. The Ikus reign with benevolent hedonistic neglect.
They give us food, so we owe them everything.
When the shopkeeper crooks his little finger at me, motioning toward the sizzling meat, I don’t even try to resist. Food is something no one turns down in the mines. I lift my chin and step inside. The aroma hits my nose, spicy and rich, and my stomach growls in response. Next to the grill, a sign sits propped up like an afterthought, its message written in loopy, careless script:1 Kidney for Your Dream Life. Live Aboveground. Ask Me How!
Nothing saystrustworthylike a vendor who trades organsandsells meat.
“Where’s the packaging?” I ask, playing along, though my eyes flick to the waste bin behind him, which is overflowing with dehydrated MEAT boxes.
“Ha. Very funny,” he says, pointing to the trash with his forehead, like he couldn’t care less. The blood from the fresh cut sizzles on the iron, the crackle filling the silence between us.
“So, uh,” he starts, looking around like he’s checking for eavesdroppers. “You a Diamond?”
I hesitate. Only one reason why he wants to know. He has information to buy or to sell. I was too flashy with my new status.
I’m not about to tarnish my status to help this guy make a quick buck.
“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” I say, but my heart picks up speed.
He gives a slow nod as if he understands. “You just shouted it to the entire thoroughfare, so if you aretryingto keep it pinned…”
Okay… Points were made.
He sticks a toothpick into the sizzling meat, his fingers thick and calloused, and hands it to me like a peace offering. His nails are jagged and dirty, like the edges of the mines. The shopkeeper isn’t old, but he has the look of someone worn down by life.
“That rock shifter. He’s a big deal, huh?” He doesn’t even bother saying his name. He doesn’t have to. Everybody knows.
I don’t pretend not to know who he’s talking about either. I’ve heard the whispers, the way people’s voices dip whenever they mention Josh.
“Everyone in the mines knows what he did to you,” he continues, sticking another piece of meat onto the grill, “but they’re afraid to cross him. Dreamin’ of that aboveground connection, you know?”
So that’s why no one’s been giving me the poor-girl treatment.
I expected more solidarity from the women, something more than the silent pitying glances they threw my way. But they all cozied up to Dru, desperate for her to bestow some kind of friendship on them, maybe sponsor their ascent one day.
“They used to clamor around me,” I say, more to myself than to him. They complimented my unmodded body and sighed over Josh’s one-word comms.
The shopkeeper snorts, a low, knowing sound. “They’re just waitin’ to see who comes out on top, girl. Ain’t no loyalty down here, just survival.”
I bite into the MEAT, tender and delicious. “Did you get any of the tainted rations?”
