Mar

    "Hey idiots," Hatsui called to us late in the afternoon. Karl and I looked at him, silent but acknowledging him. He continued, "I need you to go pick up this part I just printed."

I nodded and stood from my bench.

"Take the boy with you," Hatsui added, as required by him. Humans weren't allowed to travel alone or in groups, it was pairs or nothing. Hatsui gave us each a travel pass that hung from lanyards around our necks.

"It's paid for," he remarked as Karl and I tried to patiently leave the workshop. I casted a glance at Magda before we left, my eyes alight at the chance to leave and she smiled in return. As soon as Karl and I were out of Hatsui's earshot and on the sidewalk, I sighed in relief.

"I can't believe he sent us out today," Karl said in disbelief, his fingers toying with the pass around his neck. They wouldn't really protect us from anything besides dissuading androids from picking us up for Dead World, proving that we were owned and some android might miss us if we never returned. But sometimes they didn't care. It wasn't unheard of for them to get desperate and pick up any human they saw, especially as the tried to pad their numbers before the qualifying race.

"I know, especially this close to Dead World," I agreed. It was odd that Hatsui sent us out on an errand considering it only happened about 3 times a year and usually Alfred and I went. I was thankful for the trip anyway, to walk through the sun and feel the slow spring wind rustle at my hair. Karl didn't hide his joy either, closing his eyes briefly when we walked to bask in the sunshine on his face. It wasn't freedom, but it felt close to it.

We took the same route to the printing shop as always, cutting through the suburban neighborhood instead of the busy city streets. It was a quieter walk, a tad quicker, and we got to look at pretty old homes. It also meant we didn't see too many rogue humans, crumpled on the streets without owners. They were deemed the Unworking and spent their days outrunning the Dead World vans and trying to find something to eat. They weren't guaranteed meal bars like owned humans were.

"Look at that one," Karl said, pointing to one of the beautiful houses we were passing by. I followed his gaze and stared at the Victorian-style mansion, framed by brick and metal. A black-iron fence surrounded the property, dividing the unnaturally green grass from the yard on either side.

"A family of raccoons used to live in that house. They were the real owners, of course, before the new occupants moved in," I said with confidence.

"But they never left," Karl added, continuing the story-telling game we played. "And they've chewed through all the wiring so the lights flicker on and off like it's haunted."

"Yes," I agreed enthusiastically. "And the androids who live there now tried to get an exorcism but really they needed a raccoon expert."

"Does such a thing exist?"

"Yes, of course, Karl, keep up."

He rolled his eyes then continued, "The exorcism failed, obviously, so now they're trying to bait them and make the raccoons leave in cages."

"But raccoons are smarter than androids and much better at hiding," I added as we rounded a corner.

"True," Karl agreed and laughed. "So they moved to the garage in the backyard, waiting for the androids to leave so they can have their house back."

"Which'll probably never happen," I mumbled. Silence lapsed between us for a few moments before Karl finally spoke again.

"Are we the raccoons?"

"Of course not," I scoffed. "We suck at hiding."

When we finally got to the print shop, we were a sweaty mess. Our gray garb clung to the moisture on our skin and no matter how many times I rubbed my upper lip, moisture continued to recollect. We walked into the cool shop and the android patrons inside glared at us and sweaty bodies. I ignored them, flushing deeper under their gaze, and headed to the counter. The clerk was human, but his android boss watched him closely from behind the counter. I had interacted with the clerk on several occasions over the past few years. He was small and slight, maybe a decade or so older than me. He always smiled at me when I came in, thinly like he was suffering, but it was still oddly comforting, a piece of humanity not lost.

"Pick up for Hatsuimoto," I said, my voice crackling with anxiety. I was more than acutely aware of all the androids staring at us, picking apart our looks and glancing at the flimsy badge Hatsui gave us. Karl stayed close by, silent and wide-eyed. The clerk nodded to himself and typed into the machine in front of him.

"A fender piece?" The clerk clarified.

"Yes, that's right."

"Give me one moment," the clerk said and then disappeared into a back room. I looked down at the counter, refusing to meet the gaze of the android who sat behind the counter. After a few excruciating moments under the gaze of androids, the clerk returned, looking calm but determined. He handed me the package slowly, keeping my eyes focused on his own and then nodded subtly.

I didn't dare nod back and instead snatched the package and flew around. I grabbed Karl's hand and stormed out of the shop. We didn't stop hurrying away until we were back in the residential part and I stopped behind a massive tree.

"What was that about?" Karl finally asked, once we were alone. I didn't answer and instead started ripping open the package. Sure enough, a tiny slip of white paper fell to the ground. Karl snatched it and read it aloud. "Rainstorm. All open."

"He's trying to tell us about the market tonight," I said. Then I heard footsteps.

"Citizens," the voice ordered from a distance. Without even thinking, I shoved the note in my mouth and chewed it until it became mush, destroying the evidence. After some labor, I swallowed it.

"Gross," Karl whispered.

"Human," the android repeated as it approached us. "Turn around and identify."

Begrudging, we both turned to greet the police droid.

I spoke first, unthinkingly putting my hand up between the droid and Karl. "665794."

The droid processed the information and then looked to Karl.

"984971," Karl said. The droid paused for a moment as he glared at our passes, the part in my hand, and ran our numbers through his internal database.

"You belong at Hatsuimoto's shop. This is not the most efficient way home from the print shop."

"No, but it's hot today and there are more trees on this path," I said, adding a complaining tone to my voice. While this path was more shaded, it was also usually more quiet, except for this instance. But I didn't want the droid to worry about that.

"Return back to Hatsuimoto's immediately," the droid ordered. "And take more efficient paths next time."

"Of course," I said with an apologetic tone and whisked back around, dragging Karl with me as we hurried through the streets.

"Where are we going now?" Karl asked once I took a different turn.

"To tell Misty about the market tonight of course," I said, checking over our shoulders for more police droids.

"You heard the droid, we're supposed to go right back to Hatsui's."

"I know, but Misty's on the way," I said.

"Ugh," Karl groaned, "Barely."

I ignored his complaints and worries and headed toward Misty anyway. We walked into the manufacturing district which was much busier with both androids and humans walking around, we blended in easily. I located Misty's building immediately and slid up against the fence that provided them a space for outdoor time. Misty's red hair was a flame against the boring cement.

"Misty!" I called and ran toward the fence. She saw me, waved, and I saw she was speaking to someone next to her. His back was turned to me. She said something to him and walked inside wordlessly.

"Hey, Mar," Misty said, coming up to the fence and placing her fingers against the holes. I touched my fingers to her. "What are you doing out?"

"Errand for Hatsui," I explained and showed her the part in my hands. Karl finally caught up to me and stood behind.

"Hi, Karl," Misty said. He looked at her nervously and waved. Generally, Misty made Karl nervous. He called her "too pretty," claiming that her shining hair and light eyes were frightening. I think he really just had a tiny crush on her, but he liked to pretend that she was scary for some reason.

Misty, for all intents and purposes, was my best friend. Well, she was my best friend outside the workshop. We had been friends for approximately ten years, bumping into each other on market visits at first and then slowly growing closer over letters we would write to each other. We would peruse together during Market trips while Karl ran off to meet with his own friends and run whatever errands Magda had sent him on. Misty and I would chat about important things, the highlights of what demanded to be spoken about in person. Anything we didn't get around to, we would talk about in lengthy letters that we gave to each other just before we'd depart. In those letters, we had entire conversations about a little bit of everything. We'd talk about her little sister that she adored and I would share comparisons to Karl, who mostly pestered me in the manner of a typical little brother. Though Misty and her little sister Dot were actually related by blood, unlike me and most of my family. But families, I had come to learn, can be comprised of more than just blood. Compassion and love hold families together, even a family like ours.

"It's going to storm tonight, will you be at the market?" I asked, though I knew the answer.

"Who told you?" Misty asked.

"The guy at the part shop slipped me a note," I explained. Misty nodded thoughtfully.

"Yes, of course I'll be there," Misty said, chewing on her lip before finally continuing, "I have something important to tell you."

"Oh?" I asked, curious.

"Yes, just meet me at the market, we'll talk there," Misty said hurriedly, blushing. "I've got to go, my break's over."

Misty left abruptly, and I looked at Karl confused.

"What was that about?"

"I don't know, but can we please get back now? I'm afraid we're going to get stopped again," Karl pleaded, genuine fear in his eyes.

"Fine, fine," I agreed and we walked back to the workshop.

                        ...

    I waited patiently for the sun to set behind the darkening clouds. Hatsui lingered in his office, unnecessarily shuffling paperwork and scrutinizing our work from afar. We'd been done for an hour and ate quietly together around an ancient oscillating fan. The heat from the workshop oozed out the open bay doors, chasing after the fleeting sunlight. The storm that brewed in the north brought a breeze that was cool and luxurious, but didn't move nearly quick enough to dry the residual sweat on my lip.

When the sun finally landed behind the mountains, Hatsui rose noiselessly from his desk in his office and passed by us. Like clockwork, Hatsui arrived when the sun began to heat up the city and left as soon as it passed over the horizon. He said nothing when he left. He didn't even look at us. He just closed the bay doors and locked them swiftly, cutting off the fresh air.

Karl rose from his seat immediately. "Ugh, thank god. I thought he was never going to leave."

    I laughed breathlessly at Karl, a sympathetic giggle. Madga smiled at him as she moved to retrieve our bartering bag from where she hid it. I moved for my leather pouch that I stored under my mattress. I filled it with tiny electronic components that I hoped would at least start a conversation Rocky. It was a bit of a reach, but I was getting desperate for movement from this stagnation.

    "Okay, there's oil, leather, and fresh soap in there," Magda informed me as she gently placed the satchel on Karl's shoulder. "In return I need pain-relievers, new needles, and batteries. Try getting the pills for the oil and batteries for the soap."

    I twisted my lips with worry at the mention of pain-relievers. It was no secret that as Magda aged well into her 70's that her pains grew worse and wrose each day. A few years ago it had been worse when an engine fell out of a car unexpectedly and crashed onto her legs. The bones in her left foot were crushed and Hatsui had no sympathy. There were no hospitals or clinics to take her to, so we treated it the best we could. It bothered her constantly now, the gnarled remains of her foot she could barely put weight on. And then the arthritis that had taken hold of her joints made things even worse. She was in excruciating pain daily, that much I knew, but she worked so hard to hide it from Karl and I. Hard enough now that when she asked for the pills, I knew she was serious about her pain.

    To barter, Magda always made soap for the market, since it was a fairly easy process for us to manage with the supplies of the workshop and did provide a great benefit to the community. But it wasn't often seen as something vital to surviving and was a bit harder to trade sometimes. Though I would never say this to Magda, I would never doubt her soap, so instead I said, "Rocky didn't have any batteries last time or the time before that."

    Magda considered that. "Well, try your best. I suppose we can try recharging those other batteries again."

    The batteries weren't entirely necessary, they were a luxury for Alfred's music player. Even though he could only hear things very faintly, he loved to listen to music. He would usually play it on full volume through his headphones and I could feel the tinny sounds of guitars and drums through the plastic that covered his ears. But he never hoarded the music, and would often turn the volume down and place the headphones over my head so I could listen too. There were only 12 songs on the device.

"I'll be back as soon as possible," I kissed her on the cheek and climbed onto the workbench. Karl was on my heels.

Hatsui knew extra things we had came from somewhere, but he didn't question it. He wouldn't let us go to the market willingly, it was illegal for humans to be out without a bot's permission anyway, but he turned his cheek to how we had clothes and blankets. I think he assumed yarn, needles, fabric, and other things just popped out of thin air.

"Be safe," Magda ordered, "and listen to everything Mar says, Karl!"

"Yes ma'am," he mock-saluted her. I rolled my eyes and slid through the small workshop window. I landed on the dry ground with a soft thud. Outside, buzzing electricity hummed through the air while the clouds above swirled with moisture. A ripping wind whistled through the cement of the buildings and tugged at the hair trapped in my braids. It was bound to start pouring at any moment. I looked back up to the window as Karl dropped the bag into my waiting arms. I slung my arms through the straps while Karl dropped out of the window. It was just about as graceful as a newborn giraffe learning to walk. He was all legs and arms that he hadn't quite grown into yet. I laughed at him.

"It's not funny, Mar! I slipped!" He pouted. I rescinded my laughter into a tight smile. He acted so young and careless that it was hard to remember that he was a slave just like me. Karl's spirit remained eternally untarnished by his surroundings. I was envious of his carefree attitude and how everything was just so normal for him.

"Sure, let's go," I said, my smile slipping away. Thunder crackled above us and the clouds started weeping.

We set out on the usual course, leaving the workshop and over the fence that separated Hatsui's place from the rest of the city. The climb was easy, I went first and then Karl threw over the satchel and hoisted over. We would take off from here, running across the open field to the next building, to the next shield of protection. It was the longest stint in their route without cover, so we tried to get it over with as quickly as possible. Once we were behind another building, decrepit like Hatsui's but abandoned, we turned to take our path through alleyways. We skipped between buildings, a well-choreographed dance with Karl on my heels.

We paused when a Dead World van barreled down the street. There was no way to tell if it was full or empty, but we didn't want to find out. We folded ourselves against a dumpster as it passed, my breath in Karl's hair. We waited until the sound of its tires were far away and the street next to us grew silent once more.

"Your hair smells," I sniffed.

Karl turned, embarassed and angry as he pet down his greasy, wet hair.

"Thanks," he said, sarcastically.

"You know we have soap, right?" I asked.

He rolled his eyes. "Yes but it smells weird."

I laughed, "Like soap?"

"No, like... something is burning."

"It's just the chemicals Magda uses," I shrugged. Karl wasn't necessarily wrong about the smell, but still, it was better than being dirty.

Our conversation dipped into silence as we left our crouch and continued on. Eventually, Karl spoke again.

"Are you ever going to let me help with your project car?" Karl asked. I paused, unsure where the question was coming from.

"It's not safe," I said, looking over my shoulder.

"This isn't exactly safe either," Karl grumbled.

"True, but it's different. I don't go out in the rain when I work on the car, it's more dangerous. You could get caught."

"So could you."

"Yes," I sighed. "But it's not likely. I'm more... cautious than you."

"Cautious? Come on, Mar. I can be careful!" Karl complained, but I wasn't listening, goosebumps rolled across my shoulders as my ears picked up the sound of an approaching drone. I placed one finger on my lips and the other pointed to the sky. Karl closed his mouth and went still like me, listening to the drone buzz on the other side of the street from us. We tried to watch it out of the corner of our eyes, ready to bolt if it got any closer. Rain soaked through our clothes, but we didn't dare shiver or breathe too loudly.

The drone casted a light on the sidewalk in front of us, investigating the water moving into the drain. While it was distracted, I pushed Karl behind me and slowly started to back us away. We slunk against the wall, Karl's toes pressed to my heels, his fingers clenched around the top of my arms until we were far away and booked it in a different direction. 

Eventually we made it, taking a slightly different route, but arriving all the same. The market was located on the outskirts of town, just a few miles west of us in an abandoned factory. It only operated when it rained. Androids hated rain. Regardless of being essentially waterproof, it went against all of their instincts to willingly expose themselves to something that could easily fry their chips under the right circumstances. As a precaution, they avoided rain and most wet weather. Not to mention the benefit that the drones had a harder time picking up human activity in the rain. Inclement weather was the safest time for us.

    Karl and I arrived soaking wet, just after 10 pm. Our  jackets kept only our shirts dry, but our pants and shoes were hopeless. Our hair was even messier, my braids making quick work of getting my shirt wet. But, we fit in. Most of the other patrons were just as wet, feet squeaking against the old cement. As soon as we were in, Karl and I immediately separated. He went off to catch up with some boys his age and I went about business. I was on a mission to get those pills for Magda.

    I moved through the crowd efficiently, squeezing and tucking myself through people without even a word crossing through my teeth. I moved toward the back of the warehouse, where women chatted over lukewarm tea and traded scraps of fabric. They sat in a circle on a rug someone had woven a long time ago, worn by feet and women sitting on it.

    "Good evening ladies," I interrupted. "Magda sends her regards." They nodded and returned to their tea. I could have seen Magda chattering away in a group just like this. I was partially convinced that she had sat on this rug once upon a time before it was my responsibility to come to the market. She would probably drink the weak tea and smile at the women, happy to be surrounded by company and telling stories in turns.

    Only June stopped talking and rose from the group. She moved toward me in rough stumbles, her long gray skirt swaying with her. She approached me with serious appraisal, waiting for me to present the goods. I pulled the leather from my pouch, salvaged from the interiors of cars that were too mangled for repairs, and a cigarette. I held them out to her and she snatched the leather. She pressed it against her nose and inhaled deeply. She did the same with the cigarette, but sighed after smelling it. A tiny smile pulled across her lips, pulling her wrinkled face taught.

    "What do you need today?" She finally asked, her fingers petting the leather.

    "Pain pills."

    "Don't have any. Been fresh out for weeks," she said and started to pull away.

    "No, no. You don't understand, Magda needs them," I said, pleading. Magda needed the pills to function some days, when the pain in her bones were too much to get out of bed. She didn't admit to needing them, but I saw how they helped her, how they could pull her through the day.

    "I'm not trying to be coy with you, kid," June said, her voice gruff. "We don't have any ourselves. A shortage from the supplier. Word is that the city is cracking down on trades. Raids have been hitting workshops in the manufacturing districts and drones have been rampant."

    "Why?" I asked, naive to the world around us. This was my time to learn as much as possible. The market was for more than trading goods, it was also for trading information.

    "Not sure. The market on the other side of town was raided two weeks ago. About a hundred were imprisoned and some were even sent to Dead World."

Dead World wasn't supposed to be a death sentence, but it carried the same weight in our conversation.

"Why such harsh punishment?" I asked. June shrugged.

"We don't know much, it's being kept very secretive," June said wrinkling her nose in contempt. I tucked the information away to share with Magda, though I worried how she would react. Would she stop sending Karl and I to the market?

"Interesting," I murmured, trying to act nonchalant.

"Listen, your best bet is to check with the junkies over there," June said and nodded toward a group of thin people in the corner. They weren't huddled around each other like usual. Instead, a girl sat between them. She looked too healthy to be with them. Out of place. She was giving them things from a red bag and I saw bandages in her hands. The girl looked too clean in her gray garb, out of place. Her dark skin shined a little too brightly and she appeared well-nourished. She definitely wasn't trying to buy product from them, unless she was just now turning to a life of drug-addiction. No one would blame her. It was hard to live sometimes and certain numbing agents took out the sting of existence.

I turned back to June. "Alright, thank you anyway."

I bid her farewell and she sunk back into the circle of women and chatted as if she never left. I was moving toward the group of "junkies" when a weight pushed me from the side and clasped their arms around me.

"Hello!" A voice sang in my ear. I pulled my head back to look at my assailant. Once I saw the copper hair and green eyes I smiled.

"Hi, Misty," I said, pulling my trapped arm out from under hers and hugged her back. She was a quite emotionally exuberant person, with a deep need to care about and for those she loved. The love we shared was special, the love of a strong friendship in a world trying to destroy us.

"Fine. Nothing new to report. How about you?" I asked and moved my eyes back to the 'junkies.' The pretty girl had moved, she was now crouched next to someone else, a small boy, her mouth moving. Words between a small smile. She tugged his arm out straight and ran her fingers across the skin.

"Fine as well. Dottie lost another tooth this evening, wanna see?" Misty asked and pulled the tiny baby tooth from her pocket anyway. She held it out in her palm like a small offering. I looked down at the tiny bone fragment, dots of browned blood speckled the top.

"That's exciting. Which one was it?"

"Front left. I told her the tooth fairy would leave her a gift, hopefully I can find something here..." Misty trailed, her fingers clasping around the tooth again. The conversation aged Misty, yet she was only a few months older than me. Even though Dot was her little sister, Misty cared for her like a mother did, like her mother would if she'd survived Dot's birth.

"Was that the news you wanted to tell me?" I asked, though my attention still focused on people with the pills I needed. I watched them more closely. They were all wary of the newcomer, timid against her touch and the volume of her voice. Even the boy whose arm she held and touched look pained. Didn't she know that they didn't like to be bothered?

"No, that wasn't it," Misty said, her voice dropping. "I..."

Her hesitation caused me to look away from the crowd and back to her. She looked up and her eyelids fluttered. She was nervous. I waited patiently for her to speak, my eyebrows slightly lifted.

"There's someone I want you to meet," Misty said, her voice unsure and strangely loud against the crowd.

"Oh," I said. It wasn't entirely what I was expecting and then I remembered the boy she was talking to earlier today. I narrowed my eyes at her suspiciously. "Who?"

"Well, his name is Duke and we're not like, together, but we've talked about things..." Misty started to prattle on as she looped her arm in mine and led me through the market. But I was distracted by losing sight of the girl with the bandages, she might've had the pills I needed.

Eventually Misty stopped moving and talking and forced me to look forward, to the sight of a burly man in front of me. He would've been an intimidating force if he was a bit taller, but he was just barely taller than me. His muscles were thick, like that of a fighter. The top of his left ear was missing a chunk and his nose was exceptionally crooked. He was probably in his early twenties, but it was hard to tell with a body as desecrated as his. And then there was the matter of his eyes: one blue and bland, the other a striking light brown. He narrowed his eyes at me as I approached with Misty, then broke into an overtly charismatic grin.

"Hi there," he said, his voice mild and sure. "You must be Mar."

"Yes," I murmured and glared at him slightly. I didn't mean to be so standoffish, but I was slightly protective over Misty and generally wary of strangers. Such was the nature of our world, to be wary of anything that might make our situation worse. "You are?"

"This is Duke," Misty piped in, releasing my arm and going to stand next to him. Their hands intertwined and I nearly gasped. Ohh... I hadn't thought she was talking about this.

"And Duke is?" I asked, my voice higher in shock.

"Well, we don't have a label--it's not like that, not at a time like this..." Misty spoke quickly, looking up to Duke who smiled at her devilishly. Something about the arrogance of his posture and the brutality of his looks made me nervous.

"Is he, like, your boyfriend or something?" I finally asked, mildly ashamed of the crudeness in my words.

"Kind of," Misty said, slightly offended. "Is that a problem?"

I paused and considered what I was going to say very carefully. The wrong words could set Misty off. Sometimes I forgot that she was more sensitive than me, that my opinion held so much weight to her. But she had to know, she had to understand that there was no room for excess love in this world, no room for romance or soulmates. The love shared between survivors was all that could survive in this vaccuum of an existence. Had Misty and I not spoken of this in our letters before? Had she not herself told me that she wasn't sure she even had room in her heart to love more? So I went with a different tactic.

"I..." I hesitated before continuing, "It's nice to meet you."

I stuck out my hand for Duke to shake and he reciprocated with a firm hand, his skin hot and calloused.

"Likewise."

"Where are you from Duke?" I asked.

"I've travelled around everywhere, it's hard to say one place specifically," Duke shrugged.

"So you're from outside the city?" I asked, the idea intrigued me. "How did you end up here?"

"Mar," Misty chided. But Duke didn't flinch in his answer.

"The bastards caught me just outside the border wall. I passed a little too close for their comfort."

"Where were you coming from?" I asked, leaning closer to him. I couldn't keep the suspicion out of my tone. Though I wanted to be nicer, the mysteries were piling up and filling me with uncertainties. 

"East."

"Hmm."

"Duke got assigned to my industry once he was processed a couple weeks ago and then he ended up right across from my work station," Misty said to ease the tension.

"Interesting. How long ago was this?" I asked, trying to keep my tone light.

"A little over a month ago," Duke answered.

"But it feels like longer," Misty supplied and Duke nodded in agreement, looking at her. It made me feel sick.

"Misty, I need to continue with my barters, but can I talk to you privately first?"

Misty looked at Duke for a brief moment before splitting and following me through the crowd.

"What was all of that about?" Misty whisper-yelled.

"Misty," I sighed. I didn't even know where to begin. I stalled and tried to spy the girl again, looking toward the junkies. They were still huddled in the corner, but she was gone. Damn.

"Why don't you like him?"

"He looks like trouble!" I responded, frustrated that I lost the girl, and looked back at Misty. "And he's a bit arrogant, don't you think?"

"You were being hostile! He was just mirroring your energy."

"Bullshit," I rolled my eyes and searched the through crowd for the girl with the red bag.

    "What are you looking for?" Misty asked suddenly. I stopped staring and moved my eyes to her face.

    "I need to get painkillers for Magda, but the usual supplier is completely out. I though I spotted someone who could help but now I've lost her," I explained.

    "Painkillers? Is Magda doing okay? Is it her foot?" Misty asked. I ignored her and eventually she asked, "What does she look like?"

    "I don't know," I huffed, frustrated. "I'm just going to go see Rocky for batteries and ask him if he knows of anyone with painkillers."

    "There was someone with painkillers at the other market last time, but I think they got busted."

    "Wait, you went to the other market? When?"

    "Two weeks ago."

    "That market was raided two weeks ago!" I yelled, stopping our walk through the crowd to frown at Misty in disapproval.

    "I know. I was there."

    "What?!" I asked in shock.

    "Yeah, it was absolutely insane. I've never seen anything so chaotic. Thankfully Duke and I were already on our way out when they busted through." Misty said, wrinkling her nose.

    "You went with Duke? That's nearly suicidal, you could've been caught and arrested! Or worse, picked up by a Dead World van!"

    The market across town was a lot like the one we frequented, except they traded more in contraband. It was also a larger affair, longer established and harder to hide. But it also had all the good stuff. Real food. Real medicine. Books. Things that if we were lucky would trickle down to our market. But it was also more dangerous, more outsiders and desperate people. Even the rare traveller from outside the city. Not to mention the most dangerous of all: Androids with a taste for illegal goods.

    "Please," Misty said. "I was with Duke, I was fine."

    "He's new to the city, how did he know about the other market?"

    "He didn't. It was my idea. You're not the only one with secrets, Mar," Misty said.

    "What's that supposed to mean?"

    "When you want to be nicer to Duke, maybe you'll find out," Misty said, huffy, before turning on her heel and melting into the crowd. I considered going after her, but decided against it. She needed time to cool off and I needed time to think about her and Duke. So I headed to see Rocky.