The Rise of Io by Wesley Chu Read Free Book Online Page A

liked the old woman. She had been on the receiving end of Wiry Madras’s broom far too many times for the two of them to ever be on friendly terms.
    The bath was exquisite, if only because of the state she was in when she first arrived. Otherwise, the water was murky and lukewarm, and the tub dirty. At least she had her own bath – Wiry Madras had been forced to give her a private tub when the other women complained about her. In the end, she came out clean and feeling refreshed, and finally ready to start her day, or what was left of it. Half the day had gone by the time she was dried and dressed.
    The first thing she did was head back to the scene of the crime. Even though she had made away with two metal briefcases worth of goods, it wasn’t a one-person operation. It took a small army of people – affiliates, as she liked to call them – to have pulled that caper off.
    Tawny the Jerk, the lookout, saw her approach and broke into a grin. Ella reared back when he stuck his outstretched hand too close to her body. “What did I say about touching me, Tawny? I know what you do with those fingers.” Ella tossed him a carton of cigarettes.
    The corner beggar caught the pack deftly and his eyes skimmed the small opening on the top of the paper package. “Hey, there’s only fifteen here. You’re short.”
    Ella shook her head. “No way. That’s the penalty for the watch you missed last week. Damn Omar nearly got the jump on me.”
    â€œIt was right when I told you. Not my fault he changed his mind last minute.”
    â€œThere’s no right when it’s wrong. Get it straight or next time or I take back half.”
    Tawny made a rude gesture as she walked away. Ella skirted the narrow and crooked path down the wide street, her eyes alert for speeding motorists, beggars reaching for alms, little street rats running underfoot, or anyone else for that matter. Every single one of them was probably trying to rob, kill or con her, especially the damn kids. That was the thing with the kids. No sense of respect for the hierarchy, but that was the way of the streets. It wasn’t that long since Ella had been one of them.
    She gave several square meters of netting to Ghanash, the corner fruit vendor, for being her lead lookout. Three thousand rupees to Jango and his cart for the little diversion yesterday. Twenty thousand to Farg to give to Congee the barkeep for messing up his bar. Five thousand to Olle for the initial lead. The list went on until Ella had covered all of the players involved in her little heist.
    On top of that, she gave an old coloring book to Hansy the nurse for the stitch-up last month. A sack of dried meats to Ando the leatherworker for her shank’s new sheath. A needle and a ball of red yarn to Oldie Meen just because Ella liked the elderly lady. A handful of candies to the Mud Specks kids’ gang, more for retainer and a future favor, but also a friendly gesture to not mess with her. If Big Mud decided to make her life miserable, it wouldn’t take much for it to happen.
    After finishing her rounds, Ella scanned the sky to see how much of the day she had left. For most, the day ended when the sun set. Things always got a little dicey once darkness fell in Crate Town.
    She continued her way back to Fab’s Art Gallery, making sure to put in some face-time among the people, greeting all the players and introducing herself to the newcomers who might need her services one day, or who might try to compete. Keeping an ear close to the ground was always the best way to stay on top of the goings-on here in the slum.
    Her words eased stern scowls. Ella had put nine good years’ worth of sweat and equity into this slum, and she had brought in enough stock to earn the people’s respect. Now she was known, and that made her someone, which in this dangerous place meant everything.
    The current worried gossip was a new rat gang that had popped up