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

over the weekend. They were kids, ages ranging from seven to sixteen. They were dangerous because they were brutal, undisciplined, and didn’t respect the way things ran in Crate Town. What they lacked in size, they made up for by swarming their victims like, well, rats. Another piece of interesting news was that the government had once again expanded the area of the construction site near the docks, already doubling their original plan and cutting into large chunks of the Dumas neighborhood in the west. There was a lot of grumbling from many residences and businesses about being forced to sell their properties to accommodate the construction of some secret government project.
    Ella also got word that those Pakistani gangsters were looking for her. They had even put a reward out, dead or alive: one hundred Euros. She had preened a little when she heard that. Not bad. She was moving up in life, and in a foreign currency to boot. She didn’t worry too much about the bounty. Crate Town was a big place with thousands of people. The chances of them finding her were slim..
    The hot political topic on the streets was that Minister Kapoor, the newly appointed Deputy Minister of Gujurat, had taken an interest in Surat and had moved his office there from Gandhinagar, the capital. In his speech to the Surat Chamber of Commerce, he was quoted as saying that the battered city, still devastated from the war, was the key to revitalizing the entire region.
    The young up-and-comer made a point of singling out cleaning up Crate Town and cited the construction on the docks as an example of India’s need to rebuild and ally with their post-war neighbors. It was the same politician spiel Ella had heard hundreds of times before. Usually nothing came of it, and it rarely affected the dregs of society like her. However, people were saying this Kapoor was different, and that he might be a future prime minister of India.
    Ella saw a picture of him. He was good looking, the son of a Bollywood star, and it seemed he had an unusual amount of political backing from several powerful places. In any case, his world was so far away from hers it might as well have been the moon.
    Ella crossed the muddy path and reached the art gallery. She waved at Little Fab working behind the counter and nodded at Big Fab hiding behind the beaded curtains.
    Little Fab waved back. “You leading to trouble today?”
    Ella shrugged. “Is there any other day here in Crate Town?”
    She leaned against the counter and chatted with the third and youngest Fab who was easily twice her age. Fab had named both of his sons after himself. He called himself Big Fab even though he was now a spindly stooped old man while Little Fab was the size of a cart. The older son just went by Fab. The Fab family was as much a staple in Crate Town as the mud, the stench, and the constant banging of the metal walls. More importantly, they were the most reliable fence for stolen goods.
    Originally, they were one of thousands of refugees moved to camps during the war and told that these accommodations were temporary until the region stabilized. They were one of the first families to move to Crate Town when the containers were repurposed for housing. Now, a decade later, the same people were still living in their temporary homes.
    Ella hopped on a stool and took a piece of gum from the pack Little Fab had so carelessly left on the counter. She popped it in her mouth before he could stop her. “Did you sneak a peek at my lovelies in those briefcases?”
    He nodded. “A nice haul of tetanus and hepatitis doses. Short supply around here, especially with the rust getting worse.”
    â€œWill help a good amount of folks around here,” she said.
    â€œThe ones that can pay.”
    Both chuckled.
    â€œWith supplies low,” she said, “how much for the entire haul?”
    He wrote a number on a piece of paper and slid it along the counter. Ella glanced at it