Sated ✔

5 THE PUPPY

I abandon the interface and stagger to my feet, hurrying into the foyer. Five weeks of work, three missed ELETE evaluations, and ten missing person's reports later, I stand in front of those large doors fighting back tears.

My father's missing.

Thoughts come and go of a mine cave-in somewhere obscure—unsanctioned mines like those are more lucrative. No matter where he is—even if I have to dig him out myself, I have to find him. But I can't.... Not this broke.

I know Gara won't care what I've got to say. She never even remembers my name. She throws credits away, though. All the time. And right now, I need credits.

The door creaks open as I knock.

Gara meets me; she must have plans to go out, too.

Her outfit catches my interest, though; it's popular only in the Lower-Levels. She's even wearing trousers now, a long sash draped as a skirt.

"Oh, it's the imp-pup," she says.

Shame burns in me for being flattered that she at least remembers my face. Most nights she lets me fall asleep on her bedroom floor if I'm too wasted to stand up and leave. I never remember much of what happens with whoever she's got in there with her so it's okay.

"Are you here with this bodyguard shit again?" she asks.

I ignore her because I need to keep my nerve. "Mrs. Gara...I'm...I think I'm your biggest fan in the Colony. I want to work on stage with you. But I need a sponsor to help me fund my studies. I have to go home to my pa. The last missing person's report is for him, and they mixed up our names. I...but before I go down to find him, I want to go with something to show for it."

Gara folds her arms, crosses her legs at the ankle, and leans against the doorframe. "You're asking me for loot?"

I'm not. "No." In the mornings like these, if I haven't had anything, I feel woozy. She studies me; she can see it. "Yes, I guess, I am."

"I'm heading down to the Lower-Levels today. I do need the help there. Get yourself whatever you need off my dresser to tide you over. But when we come back, know that we're gonna have to talk about your job. I can't have people around me looking for a handout. Nobody ever gave me shit."

My heart lurches. I'm not quite sure what she says, and truth be told, my focus is just on getting something to ease the pain that's coming.

I step past her, tentative as I look for the pills she's promised.

From the doorway she calls, "You're new to this shit, you'd better cut back."

I make good credits—incredible credits, and each pay allotment goes right down my throat. It'd be okay if I can get up on that stage, though. Then I'd make more than enough. It'll make up for my father going to see me test into ELETE just to sit down there in his only church suit waiting for a son to arrive that never shows.

Two pills bring the Colony back into focus for me. I feel good. Thoughts of that missing person's report for Philippe Remy, fifty years of age, made the world fade again.

"Come along with me to the Lower-Levels. I wanna get in one of those races," Gara says, easing off the doorframe.

"If it's all the same to you," I say, "I have to go home."

We don't have to go far once we exit the house; the transport portal for the Lower-Levels is close.

She says she's going to the Lower-Levels to join in a race. The derby is only a few clicks from where I live. Gara reminds me that she's a noblewoman and shouldn't be left unsupervised in such a rough area of the Colony. She handles herself just fine, though. She speaks the language better than even my father who's lived here most of his adulthood.