by Tania Hutley
I never thought of it like that. Does being the leopard feel so incredible because being Milla felt so awful?
I stare down at her brown hand wrapped around mine, and my throat closes up. I’m not used to being touched like this. Not since I had to move to a new shelter and leave Ma behind.
“You think I’m right?” she asks, her voice gentle.
I swallow. “But I don’t get how my cheek could tear by itself.”
“The mind is very powerful, Rayne. Studies have shown that your thoughts and beliefs can make you sick, or make you well again.” She squeezes my hand. “One thing I’m sure of, you can’t transfer back into your Skin. The more you use it, the stronger the effect will be.”
“What?” I yank my hand from her grip. “No. I’m not quitting the contest.”
“I don’t think there’ll be a contest. After what happened today, it’s obvious more clinical trials are necessary and the Skin technology isn’t ready for release. Not yet. Director Morelle will have to cancel it.”
“Cancel? No, she can’t!”
“I believe she must.”
“But the others weren’t hurt, you said so yourself. I’m the only one, and I’ll take the risk. I need to compete, Doctor. I know you can’t understand, but—”
“Believe me, if I can accept the need to cancel, you should be able to.” She rubs her forehead as though trying to soothe away a migraine. “I’ve been working on this project for decades. Not just working on it, it’s absorbed every waking moment. I’m the one who developed the technique for neural stimulation that makes transferal possible. I’ve given a significant part of my life to this project, and I’m disturbed enough by what happened to you to call a halt to the whole thing.”
She glances at her band, then touches it, so somebody must be calling her. She doesn’t activate a visual but listens for a moment, then says, “Yes, of course. We’re on our way now.”
She looks at me. “Director Morelle wants to see us both when we get back. She probably wants to make sure you’re not seriously injured. And she and I have much to discuss.”
I stare out the window, my mind spinning. What am I going to do now?
I need to be the leopard. I can’t let her take that away.
When we arrive at the Morelle scraper, guards in red uniforms escort us into the elevator and up to a higher floor than I’ve been to before. Director Morelle’s waiting for us in a big office, sitting behind an old-fashioned wooden desk. Behind her, through the large window, there’s an incredible view over Triton. But I don’t have time for more than a glance before I focus on the director. Why is it always so hard to tell what she’s thinking? I’m getting even better at reading people lately, but she’s still closed to me. Her face gives nothing away.
“Director, I’m glad you asked to see us.” Doctor Gregory crosses to a chair in front of the desk and sits down, motioning me to sit in the other chair. “I’m very concerned. Damage done to the Skin has caused corresponding injuries to Rayne’s body, with gashes spontaneously appearing in her face.”
The director doesn’t so much as glance at me. “The surgeon assured me that the damage to Rayne’s face was caused by incorrectly implanted cells rupturing. A very rare problem, unrelated to the injury to her Skin. The timing of the burst was purely coincidental.”
“Coincidental?”
“That’s right.” Director Morelle steeples her fingers on the desk. “And Rayne will be in no further danger anyway, as I’ll replace her. She won’t compete.”
My stomach drops away, leaving an empty black pit inside me. “Don’t kick me out,” I say. “Please. I’ll do anything.”
Leaning forward, Doctor Gregory puts both hands on the director’s desk. “You must call off the contest. It’s too dangerous to go on.”
“I can’t do that, Susan. And there’s simply no reason to consider—”
“What if the other competitors start exhibiting these symptoms? If their real bodies suffer somatoform injuries, they could be seriously hurt. Even killed.”
“Ridiculous. You’re making too much of this.”
“Director, it wasn’t a coincidence, and it certainly wasn’t caused by ruptured cells.”
The director stands and moves around the desk to rest her hand on the doctor’s shoulder. Her expression softens. At least, it seems to. But her eyes stay as hard as ever. “You’ve been working too hard, Susan. It’s my fault. I’ve put you under a lot of pressure.”
“No.” Doctor Gregory stands too, so she’s eye-to-eye with the director. “You can’t let the contest go ahead. Please, listen to me.”
“You’re upset. You should go home and get some rest. I’ll ask one of the guards to take you, to make sure you get home safely.” The director touches her band.
“I don’t need to rest.” But Doctor Gregory’s voice has lost its conviction and her eyes flick to the door. She’s not stupid, she can see what’s happening.
I hate what the director’s doing to her, but what can I do? Objecting isn’t going to help. And if the director’s going ahead with the contest there might still be hope for me.
“Please, Susan, go home and relax. Put your feet up and don’t worry about anything. That’s an order.”
The door opens and a guard comes in. The director nods at him. “Escort Doctor Gregory home.”
“But you—.” The doctor bites back whatever she was going to say. She looks old, suddenly, her face haggard and grey. Her shoulders sag. “When may I come back?”
“Let’s give it a few days and see how you feel, shall we?”
The guard steps forward to take the doctor’s arm, but she pulls back. “Give me a moment.” To my surprise, she bends and hugs me awkwardly. “Goodbye, Rayne.” Then, in a whisper against my ear so low I strain to hear it, she adds, “Find me if you need someone. 133 Birchel.”
She lets me go, gives the director a stiff nod, then turns and walks out.
When the door closes behind the doctor, Director Morelle shifts her attention to me.
This is my only chance. Before she can say anything, I start talking as fast as I can. “Please don’t kick me out of the contest, Director. You won’t find anyone who wants to be the leopard more than I do. I don’t care what happens to my human body. All I care about is getting a chance to compete. I’ll sign anything you want, do anything you ask. Nothing matters to me but the contest.”
She raises one eyebrow. “This is your own fault. I doubt it would have happened if you hadn’t spent both day and night in your Skin.”
I swallow. “You know about that?”
“Did you think you weren’t being monitored?”
“But. Why...?”
“Because you’re unpredictable. After choosing New Tritoners for the contest, I started noticing uniformity in the way they think. You’re different. I’ve found it interesting to watch you train, Milla.”
My heart stops.
Did she just call me Milla?
I dig my fingernails into the arms of my chair. She’s leaning casually against the desk, her arms crossed and her head slightly tilted. For all the emotion she shows, she could be carved from ice.
“You know who I am?” I can barely get the question out.
“I’ve known from the moment you arrived. This contest is the culmination of years of work. Each of the five prototype Skins is valuable beyond price. Don’t you think I’d be careful who I let wear them?”
“Then why didn’t you...?” My voice chokes off. What’s going to happen to me now? I’m out of the contest, that’s certain. Will the director call in the stompers and tell them I’ve stolen a band? If she does, they won’t go easy on me.
“I’ll admit, you’ve been a nuisance. My staff has fielded several calls from Rayne’s parents, asking why their daughter won’t answer her band. I’ve had to lie for you, Milla.”
I gape, my mind racing. Nothing makes sense. “Why would you lie?”
“When you turned up wearing Rayne’s band, I
was curious. I needed a replacement for Rayne, after all, and it must have taken some daring for someone like you to take her place. When I checked your background, I was even more intrigued. Before your injury, you volunteered for the most dangerous job in the factory. Why? Because the pay for that job was a few credits more.”
She frowns at me, like I’m some unusual bug and she’s considering pulling my legs off to see how they join. “You don’t keep any of your wages though, do you, Milla? You give it all to your mother, though you never see her. If you kept what you earned, you could afford to move out of the shelter. Why do you do that, Milla? Why do you give it all away?”
“Ma has to pay—“
“Second child taxes,” she interrupts impatiently. “Yes, I know. Your brother is studying in one of my academies.”
My heart leaps. “You know where William is? Is he okay?”
She makes a dismissive gesture. “Rayne worked for my company too, did you know that? She concepted some of our new game designs. Quite the up-and-coming star of her department. But apparently no match for you.”
“Rayne came into the shelter. She was watching the contest draw.” I want to tell her about the sharks and what happened, but my brain’s tying itself in knots. What does she mean Rayne was no match for me?
“She was on a field trip, visiting some of my factories. Then after her tour...” The director shrugs. “Maybe she wanted to continue her tour by looking through a shelter. Or perhaps that foolish motorcycle she liked to ride broke down. She was a thrill-seeker.” Her eyes sharpen. “What happened in the shelter, Milla? Did you kill her? Did you kill Rayne?”
The blood rushes from my face. What the hell? I open my mouth but nothing comes out.
She nods as if I’ve answered the question. Her mouth twitches. I get the feeling she’s already convinced I did it, and she’s not shocked.
Too late I find my voice. “No, I didn’t.” It sounds like a lie, even to me. Taking Rayne’s place made me look guilty. How can I prove I didn’t hurt her?
Director Morelle moves her gaze from me to the window and it’s as though a physical weight has fallen away. Her tone changes, so it sounds like she’s talking to herself. “You’ve taken to the leopard well, and you’re certainly determined. The contest needs a wild card, and I think you’d put on an impressive show.”
I suck in a breath. This entire conversation feels like a bad dream. Was she just asking me if I was a murderer? And now she sounds like she’s still considering letting me compete. I can’t take it in. All I know is this strange, cold woman has total power over me. She could send me to jail, or she could let me be the leopard. Right now, that’s the only thing I can hold on to. It’s the only thing that makes any sense.
I lean forward, shifting to the edge of my seat so I can reach out and grab her arm. “If you let me try, I know I can win.”
She looks down at my hand, both eyebrows shooting up. Maybe nobody ever dares to touch her?
“Very well,” she says slowly. “I’ll allow you to compete. And I’ll continue to call you Rayne.”
I catch my breath. “And if I win? Do I get to keep my Skin?”
“Of course. I’ll even give you a new band.”
“Thank you.” I’m so relieved, the word comes out as a whisper.
I don’t care that the contest could be suicide mission, or that the director could betray me any time she likes. She’s clearly the worst kind of shark and I don’t trust her one bit. But as long as I still have a chance to win my Skin, that’s all that matters. Do or die. If I can’t be the leopard I may as well be dead anyway.
“That’s all. You may go back to your room.” She shoots me a cold look. “I don’t think I need to spell out what will happen if this little chat doesn’t stay private, do I?”
“No. Thank you, Director. I won’t let you down.” I’m already on my feet, ready to make my escape before she changes her mind. But as I reach the door, I can’t help but hesitate. As foolish as it might be to push my luck with her, I have to ask. “And Cale? Will you reconsider and let him compete too?”
She’s already sitting at her desk, activating her holo screen, and doesn’t bother to glance up. “Cale’s chip has already been wiped.”
24
The door to Cale’s room is open. A guard is waiting outside, but he doesn’t stop me going in.
Cale is standing next to the bed, staring blankly at the floor like he hasn’t heard me enter. He’s packed all his things into a suitcase and the room looks weirdly empty without his piles of stuff lying around.
His eyes are bloodshot, his expression so desolate that my heart twists.
My feet scuff the ground and his face slowly lifts. I can feel what it takes for him to give me a weak smile. His pain soaks through the air between us. I ache for him. He’s trying to pretend he’s okay, but I can feel his loss. I can read his emotions in every movement he makes, just as clearly as if we were still leopard and tiger.
“Hey Rayne. Is your eye okay?” Typical Cale. His chip’s been wiped and he’s worried about me.
“Cale, don’t worry. I’m going to buy a Skin for you.”
His expression lightens a little, a flicker of hope ghosting across his eyes. Then he gives his head a little shake. “Do you know what happened when Brugan clawed you? How your face got the same cuts?”
“The doctor said there was a rupture because of my new eye, nothing to do with my leopard’s wounds. The timing was a coincidence.” I just about choke on the words as I repeat the director’s lie. But I don’t want him to worry about me.
“That’s insane. I don’t believe it was a coincidence and neither do you.” He frowns. “You’re not seriously thinking of staying in the contest?”
“Cale, I have to.”
He takes me by the upper arms so I have to look at him. “It’s too risky, Rayne. You need to pull out.”
“I’ll win, then I’ll buy you a Skin.”
“Losing my tiger feels like...” His voice breaks and he has to stop for a moment to get himself under control. “It feels like there’s a hole inside me. An important part has been carved out and all that’s left is a big gaping wound. I’m never going to feel fully alive again. The only reason I can walk around instead of curling up on the floor, is by pretending it hasn’t happened.” His fingers tighten around my arms. “But it’s nothing to how I’d feel if anything happened to you.”
My heart’s beating too fast and my breath is stuck in my throat. As I stare into his beautiful, dark-lashed eyes, part of me wants him to put his arms around me, and another part’s starting to freak out because I can’t move away.
This is Cale, dammit, he’d never hurt me. But he’s holding me so tightly, my palms feel clammy and my muscles are tight.
I put my hands against his chest, trying to silently tell him I need some space. He makes a low, quiet sound that’s half sigh, half groan. He draws me toward him.
No! My chest tightens with panic and I twist out of his grip.
He steps back, his expression stricken. “You can’t stand me touching you, can you?”
“It’s not you. It’s me.”
He sits down heavily on the bed and folds his hands together in front of him, as though he’s telling me not to worry, that he won’t try to touch me again. I hate that I’ve hurt him. As difficult as it is, I owe it to him to try to explain.
“I’m sorry, Cale. This body is so weak, I can’t help being afraid.”
“You’re not weak.”
I drag in a breath, trying to figure out how to make him understand. “After I was burned, they moved me to a new shelter where I was on my own.” Dammit voice, don’t tremble. “I was easy pickings for the sharks.”
I turn away so as not to see his expression, but it’s a relief to say it out loud. Like letting the words go allows some of the pain out with them. “Then I met Tori. She wasn’t much older than I was, but she wasn’t scared of anything. The sharks respected her and when she was with me, they
mostly left me alone. But I was always afraid. I was the weak one and she was strong. That’s just how it was.”
I stop, biting my lip, wanting to blurt out the whole story about stealing Rayne’s band. What would he think of me if he knew? There shouldn’t be any secrets between us. But there’s a guard outside. Now’s not the time.
He jumps up and touches my forearm so I turn toward him. His voice is gentle. “Being afraid doesn’t make you weak.”
“It does in the shelter. Especially if you let it show. Sharks go after anyone who can’t fight back.”
“I’ve never known anyone as brave as you.”
The way he says it—gaze steady and so sincere—makes me want to cry. If only I were half as tough as he thinks. “I’m not brave. And the only time I’m strong is when I’m the leopard. My Skin has given me that. It’s given me the strength to be able to win.”
He draws in a breath and blows it out hard. “I couldn’t bear it if you got hurt.”
“I won’t get hurt. I’m going to win the contest.”
“Yeah. You’ll win.” He looks down and murmurs it in a low voice, almost to himself. A chill runs over me. He doesn’t believe it. He thinks I’m going to lose. I know it with a cold certainty. Tiger Cale would never be able to lie to me, and I can see through this Cale just as easily.
“I can win. I will, Cale.”
He looks up at me. “If there were no Skins and you were yourself for the contest, I’d have no doubt. You’re the best of us, Rayne. Easily the toughest, even if you can’t see it.”
I can’t believe what he’s saying. Compared to my leopard, my human body is pathetic.
“Remember when you walked into the training room for the first time?” he asks. “We were staring but you never faltered. You charged in full of attitude and defiance, like you wanted to take us all on at once.” He smiles and the shadows leave his face for just for a moment. “I could see it then. I thought, she’s going to win the contest. It was the first thing I thought when I met you.”
“But now you don’t think I can.” I don’t need to ask, I know he doesn’t. I can feel the doubt pulsing through him, as strong as his heartbeat.