could he possibly know? Was she being spied on, or followed? If he knew Ami was sick he probably knew they’d been to the Station, a place all workers were warned to avoid.
Her fear must have been obvious, for he quickly said, “I have a child back home too. I’ll have another, after this tour.”
Mira didn’t know what that meant, but she nodded.
Jin reached into the open drawer, pulling out a handful of glass. The credits clinked three times as he stacked them on the table.
Jin’s blue eyes watched her without expression. Was he waiting for a reaction? Was this a test, like the open drawer? Did he want her to beg, or worse, did he want something in return?
“She’ll have quite the hunger, if she’s anything like mine after an illness,” he said. He nudged the three credits forward a bit. “This will help set her right, I hope.”
Mira stepped forward, still cautious of a trap, before scooping up the credits. “Thank you,” she managed to squeak, lowering her eyes to the floor.
Jin waved a hand. “Just don’t tell the others. I have a few extra credits I can dispense without getting in trouble, but I don’t want the whole factory crying to me with stories of their sick children. You may go.” He tapped at his computer screen, his attention already elsewhere.
Angela didn’t bother to conceal her surprise that she returned from the foreman’s office, but Mira didn’t begrudge her. She was still surprised, herself. The rest of the day went by quickly, with her mind a mixture of confusion and guilt.
Her daughters were excited to see her that night, crying out with surprise when she revealed the bowl of soup she bought on the way home. It was thin and mostly water, but they sat on the floor around the bowl and ate eagerly, dipping the tough bread and taking turns sipping from the spoon.
When their meal was complete and another bedtime story had been told, Mira took the medicine from the shelf. She held Ami close, whispering soothing words into her ear as she pressed the needle into her chest. Her daughter sat perfectly still through it all, brave for a girl her age.
“Am I fixed?”
Her voice was hopeful. Mira forced a smile. “You were never broken, sweet girl.”
Chapter 7
The foreman sat behind the glass of his office, staring idly at his computer screen as he did every morning. He held a drink in his hand, some red liquid that came from an exotic fruit Mira had never seen. She tried to imagine what it must taste like, and decided it was probably tart. She’d had a tart fruit once, when she was very young. She smacked her lips involuntarily. Her mind remembered the taste, even if her tongue did not.
He hadn’t moved all morning, but Mira knew that was normal. She’d observed him for two weeks and knew his routine by heart. It was a boring job, foreman of a factory: tap at the computer screen, watch the women through the window, occasionally reprimand one of them. Nothing of note ever happened, except for one thing, every third day, halfway through her shift. And today was the third day.
Mira had exhausted all other options. Leo didn’t need an assistant in his office, and had laughed when she offered to sell her malnourished blood. She’d gone door-to-door in her building after that, offering to clean or watch children or any other small task that needed doing, but nobody needed help. Most cursed her for even asking. Trust was uncommon on Praetar these days.
Painting her face and working at the Station was still an option, but she wasn’t that desperate. She would turn to thievery before that.
Ami’s medicine was nearly used up; she didn’t know how long the girl would stay healthy after it was gone. No, this was her best option. Mira worked steadily at her station, but glanced to the foreman’s office every few heartbeats. Her plans were made, and today may be the only opportunity.
The electroid parts clicked together. Mira tightened them with a
Learning to Kill: Stories