by Tania Hutley
I pause to let the soldiers react. Most give me a shocked, wide-eyed stare, before managing to drag their gaze back to the wall above me. Some go pale. A few sway. They don’t make any sounds, let alone protest or break ranks, but they have to be feeling the same way I did when I lost my Leopard Skin. Like they’re never going to be fully alive again.
I take a breath, and keep my voice hard. “From now on, your job will be to make Old Triton safe. You’ll patrol my factories and shelters, and guard the vulnerable. You’ll take care of the weak, and make sure there are no more attacks, bombings, rapes, or murders in Old Triton.”
It’s a dangerous move, turning these young soldiers into a new form of stompers. The Knight Skins made them ruthless, and Old Tritoners have no defence against them if they decide to keep up their reign of terror. But the soldiers have been idle since the Fist destroyed most of the Knight Skins, and hopefully by giving them a sense of purpose I can help them change for the better.
“I have rivals who are trying to hurt me,” I announce. “You’ve all heard about the attack on the shelter yesterday. I need you to keep watch and make sure nothing like that ever happens again.”
I sweep my gaze around their faces. Either their shock is fading, or discovering they’re going to be guarding against a real threat has perked them up. There’s a new lift to their chins, and a hardness in their eyes that I hope is determination.
“Do you understand your new role, soldiers?”
“Yes, Madam President.” The shout comes from every mouth, in perfect unison. It’s so loud, the walls vibrate.
“You’ll be closely monitored. If I hear of anyone stepping out of line, there’ll be no second chances. Any soldier who even thinks about hurting one of the people you’re supposed to be protecting will be discharged.” I pause to run a stern gaze along the lines of Old Triton faces. “Is that clear?”
“Yes, Madam President.” The shout is loud enough to hurt my ears.
I nod at them, turn, and walk out. I’ve already briefed their commanding officers, and Cale has asked the Fist to keep a close eye on them.
Still, I’d feel a lot better about this if I hadn’t agreed to leave for Deiterra tomorrow, and was here to monitor them myself. Instead I’ll have to trust their officers to obey the strict rules I’ve set.
“That was a good start,” I tell Sentin in the car as we head back to New Triton. “But it’s the next part that I’m looking forward to.”
He frowns. “This is more risky than I’d like. I’d prefer if you didn’t go through with it.”
“Oh, I’m going through with it. And thanks for arranging it, even though you’re against it.”
“If I didn’t, you’d do something even riskier.”
I shoot him a grin. “You know me too well.”
Our car locks into the bullet track, lifting out of the darkness of Old Triton and into the brightness of the city above. I lean forward, peering out of the window at the skyscrapers coming into view. The one I’m searching for is tall enough to stand out from the buildings around it, though it’s still dwarfed by the Morelle Corporation building.
“That’s the Beast’s scraper?” I ask, pointing.
Sentin nods. “Phoenix Industries.” He checks his band. “The knights are arriving now.”
I rub my hands together. “This is going to be fun.”
Sentin heaves an exaggerated sigh, taking off his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose.
I laugh. “Come on, can you really tell me you’re not going to enjoy this? The Beast had his shark throw poppers around a crowded shelter. He deserves worse than a little scare. In fact, he’s lucky I’m not planning to march into his office with some explosives of my own.”
He shakes his head, his expression serious. “We agreed that you’d deliver your warning, and leave without incident. I expect you to keep your side of the deal. Remember, nothing is more important than our trip to Deiterra.”
When the car pulls up outside the front doors of Phoenix Industries, I find forty-seven knights waiting for me, as promised. They’re lined up on the sidewalk, standing to attention. Their huge bodies look threatening even when they’re just standing still, especially because their over-sized arms hang to mid-thigh. They’re killing machines, pure and simple.
“Stay here,” I tell Sentin, sliding out of the car. But he’s already getting out of the other side.
When he strides up to the knights, they salute, then stand to attention. “This is a non-violent mission,” he announces. “Your objective is to intimidate, but you may not injure civilians or destroy property. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir.” The response booms from forty-seven obedient knights.
“Thanks, Dad,” I mutter to him. Then I raise my voice. “Ready, knights? Follow me.”
I march into the scraper with the knights on my heels. The loud stomping of their metallic boots on the ground no longer gives me chills. Hopefully today, the sound will scare some New Tritoners for a change.
On the other side of the building’s big, marble lobby is a reception desk with a startled-looking woman standing behind it. But I already know where I’m going, and lead the knights to the elevators behind her.
“Excuse me.” Her voice shakes as she calls after me. “May I help you, Madam President? I’m so sorry, but will you allow me to announce you before you go up?”
I turn and give her a pleasant smile. “Certainly. Please tell the Beast we’re coming for him. Let him know that if he’s not already in his boardroom on the top floor, he’d better hustle his ass up there before we start breaking things.”
There are far too many of us to get in one elevator, so I keep pressing the button until eight elevators have arrived at ground level. We all get into them at once, and arrive on the top floor of the building at the same time. I stride out first, and all the knights spill out after me, organising themselves into orderly rows.
There’s a small waiting area outside the elevators, and large double glass doors that lead into the Beast’s enormous boardroom. Instead of pushing the doors open, I ram my fists into them with all my strength, one into each door. It hurts the hell out of my knuckles, but they shatter into a million tiny pieces with a very satisfying sound. When I step forward, my heels crunch the glass into the Beast’s plush carpet.
Inside the boardroom, six men are sitting at the large table. The Beast pries his huge bulk out of his chair at the head of the table, nodding as though he was expecting me. The receptionist must have warned him we were on our way.
“President Morelle. Welcome.” His big lips twist up into a smile. “I believe you know everyone here.”
The five other men at the table all stand too, and I realize I do know them. At least, I recognize their faces from the holo. They’re all wealthy, and they own factories. They look enough alike that they could be brothers, but I guess that’s just the tweaking. Maybe they all used the same surgeon. With his bald head and fleshy face, the Beast is the only one who stands out.
“I assembled our consortium so we could all speak together,” says the Beast. “Won’t you sit down and join us?” He motions to the knights who are standing stiffly behind me, ready for anything. “Your soldiers are welcome to wait outside.”
My glee is disappearing fast. I expected to surprise him, and it’s disconcerting that he’s acting like I’ve arrived late to a meeting he invited me to attend. My plan was to barge in so I could threaten him with violence if he hurt any more people. But now that he’s invited me to join them, I might as well hear what they have to say.
Leaving the knights where they are, I ease myself into one of the seats at the table. “So, talk.”
The Beast and the other men all sit too, and I feel a moment of total unreality. It wasn’t so long ago that I spent my days punching out pieces of metal in a factory, and now I’m seated at an opulent boardroom table with the most powerful men in Triton. The view from the full-length windows isn’t nearly as good as the one from the Mo
relle scraper, and of course we’re not tall enough to see over the Deiterran wall, but it’s still impressive. And this room is even more richly decorated than Edward Morelle’s boardroom. The table looks like it’s been carved out of gold, there are rich red flowers everywhere, and a large bronze sculpture of the Beast’s ugly face is displayed against one wall.
The Beast smiles at me again, his fleshy cheeks squashing into balls. “As you know, we’re reasonable men.” He motions to the others at the table. “If you stop being foolish, we can all be friends again.”
One of the other men speaks up. “If you insist on giving free meals to workers, I want compensation for all the food I won’t be able to sell them.”
Another man slaps his palm on the table, a scowl twisting his chiselled lips. “I don’t see why you had to break our deal in the first place. You build an army, and you think that entitles you to bankrupt us?”
“Now, now, gentlemen. No need for raised voices.” The Beast turns to me. “Withdraw your attempt to raise the minimum wage, and we may be willing to discuss some alternative proposals for the other suggestions you’ve made.”
“I’m not withdrawing anything.”
The Beast clicks his tongue in disapproval, then leans forward to pick up a round glass ornament that’s decorating the table. Settling back in his chair, he tosses the ornament casually from hand to hand. It has a small red flower encased inside it, and looks heavy. Like a solid glass baseball.
“Let’s cut to the chase,” he says. “Either we come to a deal that suits us all, or you’ll regret it. That’s a promise, and I’m a man of my word.”
I put both hands on the table, watching him closely so I can snatch the ornament out of the air if he throws it at me. “I’m raising the minimum wage, giving away food and medical supplies, and doing everything else I promised. If you don’t like it, that’s too bad.”
The men mutter angrily to each other, but only the Beast speaks up.
“If you won’t negotiate, then your fight is with all of us,” he says. “Not just with me.”
“As you say, I have an army.” My voice is cold. “Why should I negotiate?”
“To avoid any further unpleasant incidents like the one you experienced at your shelter.” The Beast is still tossing the glass ball from hand to hand, and it reminds me of the popper his would-be assassin threw at me. “I’m sure you want to avoid killing any more innocent people?” He raises his eyebrows, smirking like he’s said something funny.
“If you so much as think about killing any more people, I’ll have you arrested and charged with murder.”
The Beast chuckles. “I don’t believe there’s a judge in Triton who’d allow me to spend even a minute behind bars.”
“Then I’ll let the knights deal with you.”
“You’re welcome to try, but it’s already been established that your Knight Skins have vulnerabilities. And you’re aware that Harrison here manufactures the weapons used by our brave police force.” He nods toward one of the men at the table. “We’re far from defenceless.”
Harrison speaks up. “When you think about it, we don’t even need to destroy the knights. We only need to get to you. And there are six of us.”
The man opposite him leans back in his chair, looking smug. “You may be the richest of us, but when we combine our resources, we have far more than you do.”
“And I know your darkest secrets.” The Beast tilts his head. “For example, I know you can’t be Edward Morelle. You must have stolen his Skin. So who are you?”
My stomach swoops. None of the men at the table have reacted to his announcement, so it’s not a surprise to them.
“I don’t care what you know, or what you have,” I snarl. “Threaten me or anyone else, and you’ll find out how strong my knights really are.”
The Beast catches the glass ball in one hand, then slowly stands up. His huge bulk takes up almost as much space as the knights do, and when I get to my feet, I feel tiny in comparison.
He lets out an exaggerated sigh. “If you refuse to see reason, I’ll be forced to ask you to leave so we can continue our meeting without you. Allow me to escort you to the elevator.” With the glass ball clutched in one hand, he walks around the table toward me.
My first instinct is to take a step back, but I’ve been around enough sharks not to show anything that could be mistaken for fear. “I’ll leave when I’m ready,” I snap.
He stops next to me. “You’ve said what you came to say, and now we all know where we stand. Unless you’re going to order your knights to kill us here and now, we have nothing more to talk about.”
I hesitate, tempted to command the knights to attack. But Sentin already ordered them not to hurt anyone or damage any property. What if they obey him and not me?
“This was just a warning.” I turn and stalk back toward the elevators, motioning the knights to follow. “Next time, my soldiers won’t leave so easily.”
The Beast follows me through the smashed door to the elevators. Then he stops and leans close. “It doesn’t matter who you are or how you obtained that Skin. If you go on this way, we’ll take you down.”
I draw myself up, adrenaline coursing through my veins, making my blood pump hot. “How do you think you’ll do that? Maybe you know this is a Skin, but you clearly don’t know how strong I am, or you wouldn’t dare threaten me.”
His face flushes. “You think you’re stronger than me?” Lifting the hand that’s holding the glass ball, he squeezes. The solid ball shatters into a thousand slivers of glass.
I gape at his hand as he crunches what’s left of the ball, letting the pieces fall through his fingers. The glass didn’t cut him. He doesn’t have so much as a scratch. And no human could possibly be that strong.
The Beast lets the glass fragments drop away, until all he’s holding is the small red flower that was in the center of the ball. He shakes it to ensure it’s free from glass, then hands it to me with a sarcastic bow. His fingers are twice the size of mine.
Nine
“Did you know the Beast is using a Skin?” I demand.
Sentin blinks slowly. “Contrary to what you seem to believe, I can’t know everything.”
I exchange a glance with Cale. We’re in my car, heading toward the breach in the Deiterran wall. Cale seems excited to see Deiterra, and Sentin’s been pushing hard to make this trip happen. I’m the only one who’s reluctant to go.
“How many humanoid Skins do you think there are?” asks Cale.
Sentin shakes his head. “I have no idea, though I’ve always assumed Edward Morelle made more humanoid Skins than just his own. The technology is an immensely valuable commodity, so it makes sense that Edward would exploit it.” He looks up, his eyes going distant, as though he’s making calculations in his head. “Of course, the Beast is wealthy enough to fund his own scientific research and development teams. If Edward sold him a Skin, he’s almost certainly used it as the basis for his own work. He could even be at the point of being able to manufacture his own Skins by now, though Edward would have been foolish not to have retained an exclusive license for commercial distribution.”
We’re close to where the hole was blown through the Deiterran wall, and the closer we get, the more I want to stop the car and take the knights back to Phoenix Industries.
I blow out a frustrated breath. “Leaving now is terrible timing. We need to go back and find out what the Beast is up to. We can’t let him think he can do whatever he wants.”
Cale frowns. “What if the other men you met in his boardroom were using Skins? If the confrontation had gotten physical, it would have been six against one.”
Sentin’s jaw tightens. “In that respect, the consortium of industrialists aren’t the only ones we need to worry about.” He brings up his band’s controls and selects a recording. A hologram projects above his band. It’s a Knight Skin. As the camera pulls back, I see the Skin is inside a small, white room, surrounded by other machines. Wires snake out of
it, and numbers cascade down the screens it’s hooked up to.
“This footage was recorded in a laboratory in Deiterra,” Sentin says. “They have a number of Knight Skins there, presumably collected after the Fist launched their attack on the Meat Locker and disabled some of the Knights that were engaged in combat on the other side of the wall.” From the look he gives us, I guess he knows it was me and Cale who wiped the soldiers’ chips.
The holo image zooms in, focusing on the Skin’s head. I’d thought the knights’ armor was unbreakable, but its head has been cracked open like an egg, and its brain matter scraped away to expose the circuits embedded in the tissue.
“What are they doing?” I ask.
“The Deiterrans are reverse engineering the Skin technology. They’re developing their own Skins.”
Cale frowns. “Creating their own Skin army?”
Sentin nods. “The knights came close to penetrating the palace and ending the imperator’s rule. He’d be foolish not to want to use the same technology as a means to fight back.”
“In that case, we need to stop them.” I let out a long breath. “But if they’re putting together their own Skins, what makes you think they’ll want to negotiate a peace treaty?”
“I don’t believe they have everything they need to be able to activate the Skins. But the longer we delay our trip, the longer they’ll have to perfect the technology.”
The car stops. Fallen buildings block our path so we can’t drive any further. From here, we’ll have to walk.
“What exactly are we going to say to the imperator?” I ask.
“The Deiterran imperator is a difficult man. He keeps the country under tight control, and our negotiations will require delicacy.”
I expect Sentin to say more, but instead he opens the car door and gets out.
Cale meets my gaze. “That wasn’t an answer,” he mutters.
I grimace, and go after Sentin. For the first time since transferring into the President’s Skin, I’m wearing comfortable clothes. Not quite as comfortable as the jeans and T-shirts Doctor Gregory gave me when I first arrived at the Morelle Corporation, but at least my shoes are flat-soled and practical. The trousers and blouse I have on are formal enough not to feel under-dressed if I’m wearing them when I meet the Deiterran imperator, but I should be able to walk a long distance in them. And the knights are carrying our luggage, in case we need to stay in Deiterra for a night or two.