Today's Reading
I shook myself out of my daze. "How'd you manage that?"
"Eight years is a long time, Edie. Enough time to straighten out, get credentialed, build a reputation." Angel smiled, her lipstick still perfectly smooth. "I'm respectable now."
"You won't be, after this job."
"Who needs respectability when you're rich?"
I gestured to the cabin of the flyer, with its paneled interior and leather seats. "This isn't rich?"
"Joyce Atlas is a multitrillionaire." Angel put aside the teacup. She folded her hands in her lap and crossed her legs. "This is nothing compared to what that kind of money can buy." She smiled again. "Ever wanted to own a moon, Edie?"
"What the hell am I supposed to do with a moon, Angel?"
"I hear it's a nice place to raise a family."
I scoffed. "When have you known me to be domestic?"
"Doesn't have to be for you."
The Morikawas had lived in the same apartment in the Lower Wards for generations now. A sprawling family tree of aunts, uncles, cousins, and their children were ever-present in my life. And even as the neighborhood changed around us, my family never left. It was the closest thing we had to roots, long after we were driven from the rising waters of our homeworld. If nothing else, the Morikawas had each other, had the memories of our culture.
"We're not looking to move," I said flatly.
Angel reached into her bag and removed a bright green apple. From her sleeve she drew a butterfly knife—she'd gotten faster with it since I'd last seen her. She flicked it open and began to peel.
"The plan is already in motion," Angel said, the apple's skin curling in an unbroken ribbon around her fingers. "It's just a matter of whether you want to be involved."
I leaned forward in my seat. "Need I remind you what happened the last time we tried to rob Atlas?"
The knife slipped and the ribbon of apple fell to the floor. For a moment I saw naked anger on Angel's face, anger that I didn't quite understand.
She wasn't the one who'd spent eight years of her life behind bars.
But before I could say anything, Angel's expression smoothed back into icy calm. "If anyone needs reminding, it's you, Edie. Now you know a little of what I'm capable of. Betray me, and I'll ruin your life."
"You've done it once, already," I said through my teeth.
"And I won't hesitate to do it again."
Angel could have carved her initials out of the tension in the air. I didn't know what she was thinking, offering me a moon in one hand and threatening to stab me in the back with the other. I didn't know why she would come to me, of all people. Not after everything had gone so wrong between us.
"Why me?" I asked.
"Why you?" Angel repeated. "Because you know the catacombs better than anyone else. Because you're the best runner I've ever known. Because you and I—" She paused. Rethinking. Recalculating. After a moment, she met my eyes again. Her gaze was hard with cold resolve. "Because I know you, Edie. Better than anyone else."
"Eight years is a long time," I said. "You don't know me anymore, Angel." Another tense silence filled the cabin as Angel held my gaze. I noticed then that there was a ring of cold, glowing blue that cut through her irises. A mod. Smart implants like those were just becoming fashionable among Kepler's rich and powerful when I was imprisoned. They still gave me the creeps—they felt inhuman, unnatural, machinelike. The mods were an outward representation of the world of difference between people like me, and them.
After a few moments of silence, Angel settled back into her seat, carving the apple into slices in her hand. "I'll give you three days," she said finally. "If I don't hear from you by the fourth day, the deal is off."
"And then what?"
"Then you enjoy your freedom. Think of it as a gift, for old times' sake." I scoffed. "Just be sure to stay on the straight and narrow, or you may end up back where you started."
"Is that a threat?" I growled.
"You don't need any interference from me to send you back to the Rock." The knife cut smoothly through the flesh of the apple. "Understand this, Edie. I can have any runner I want. I can succeed with any runner worth their salt. But I want the best. I want you."
That was one thing eight years hadn't changed in her. Always seeking perfection.
...
