Genecode Illegal: Brother Series, #2

By T. Jackson King

Little Brother once thought having plenty of food and the love of Sally the Breed would be the best life possible on Mother’s World, where the genedocs run the Church of Flesh and the Emperor rules over a system where your tattooed genecode determines your life, your job and your future. In his world, rich people have more than poor people, the genengineered Breeds rule over the standard genetype Commoners, and everyone he knows in the Yoshiwara always looks to get the better part of any deal. Just one of the Standard Rules. Like, you don’t get something for nothing. Or, Serve and you eat, don’t Serve and you starve. They were rules he’d grown up with as he scavenged through the garbage piles of Alor City Dump, an orphan with no genecode tattoo. He’d always followed the Rules. Until he talked to a piece of tied-up garbage named Sally and began the wildest adventure of his life. But now, living in Sally’s skyrise tower with plenty of food did not satisfy him. Who had hired the assassin who’d tried to kill both him and Sally? Why did the Emperor tolerate the rule of the genecode? And were there other gene-manipulated children like himself, people with illegal genecodes, still suffering at the hands of renegade genedocs? His search for answers leads him and Sally into the Purple Mountains and the jungles of Brasilia continent. It is a journey that reveals a deadly evil hiding in the mountains, an evil that aims to kill him, kill Sally and destroy any chance of changing the Rules of his world. But he and Sally have special Talents, Talents that have grown stronger as they grow older. And their joined Talents may just allow them to survive, and maybe even change their world!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wilder Publications Inc.
• Release date: Dec 24, 2014
• ISBN: 9781633843684

T. Jackson King

T. Jackson King (Tom) is a professional archaeologist and journalist. He writes hard science fiction, anthropological scifi, dark fantasy/horror and contemporary fantasy/magic realism--but that didn't begin until he was 38. Before then, college years spent in Paris and in Tokyo led Tom into antiwar activism, hanging out with some Japanese hippies and learning how often governments lie to their citizens. The latter lesson led him and a college buddy to publish the Shinjuku Sutra English language underground tabloid in Japan in 1967. That was followed by helping shut down the UT Knoxville campus in 1968 and a bus trip to Washington D.C. for the Second March on Washington where thousands demanded an end to the Vietnam War. Temporary sanity returned when Tom worked in a radiocarbon lab at UC Riverside and earned an MA degree in archaeology from UCLA. His interests in ancient history, ancient cultures and journalism got him several government agency jobs that paid the bills, led him to roam the raw landscape of the Western United States, and helped him raise three kids. A funny thing happened on the way to normality. By the time he was 38 and doing federal arky work in Colorado, Tom's first novel STAR TRADERS was a stage play in his head that wouldn't go away. So he wrote it down. It got rejected. His next novel was published as RETREAD SHOP (Warner Books, 1988). It was off to the writing races and Tom's many voyages of imaginative discovery have led to 23 published novels, a book of poetry, and a conviction that when humans reach the stars, we will find them crowded with space-going aliens. We will be the New Kids On The Block. This theme appears in much of Tom's short fiction and novel writing. Tom lives in Santa Fe, New Mexico, USA. His other writings can be viewed at http://www.tjacksonking.com.

Book preview

By T. Jackson King

Other King Novels

Mother Warm (Brother Series 3, forthcoming), Alien Vigilante (forthcoming), Human Assassin (forthcoming), The Memory Singer (2014), Alien Assassin (2014), Anarchate Vigilante (2014), Galactic Vigilante (2013), Nebula Vigilante (2013), Speaker To Aliens (2013), Galactic Avatar (2013), Stellar Assassin (2013), Retread Shop (2012, 1988), Star Vigilante (2012), The Gaean Enchantment (2012), Little Brother’s World (2010), Judgment Day And Other Dreams (2009), Ancestor’s World (1996).

Dedication

To the British author Rudyard Kipling, whose India-based novel Kim has long inspired my explorations of people living within a strange universe where humans are a minority.

Acknowledgments

First, the wonderful inspiration of Robert A. Heinlein’s novel Citizen Of The Galaxy is gratefully acknowledged. Also, the tales of Andre Norton about loners in a strange universe helped greatly in the evolution of Little Brother. Second, the First Reader assistance of Paula E. Downing is much appreciated. Lastly, I thank my fellow authors in the writers groups Zenobia and Shoptalk for their support.

GENECODE ILLEGAL

© 2014 T. Jackson King

This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this novel are either fictitious or are used fictitiously. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except for brief quotations for review purposes only.

Cover design by T. Jackson King; wraparound cover image by Cornelius20 via Dreamstime license.

First Edition

Published by T. Jackson King, Los Alamos, NM 87544

http://www.tjacksonking.com/

ISBN 10:  1-63384-368-8

ISBN 13:  978-1-63384-368-4

Printed in the United States of America

CHAPTER ONE

Little Brother dreamed of Paradise. In his short life, this was always a place of plentiful food, with his next meal guaranteed. It held a hideaway of warmth and a soft bed to sleep in. And his refuge would never be raided by other Scavengers, or scraped away by garbage dozers as they shifted piles of rubbish closer to the Recycling Plant. Like back home in the Alor City Dump.

Sharing his sleeping dream was Sally, the young Breed girl who’d once been tossed into the Dump like a piece of trash, but who had become the love of his life. Like him, she no longer had parents. They’d been killed as part of the deadly Breed politics common to rich people who intended to keep their power, no matter the cost in lives. In his dream, they were a young couple like many on Mother’s World. But they were also two orphans out to change their world.

‘Course, dreams don’t last and Paradise isn’t real.

Leastwise, that’s what Maurice his Fence always said. For a man with one good eye, a club foot and a greasy mustache that always smelled of his last meal, Maurice was a smart man. Little Brother could believe the part about Paradise not being real. After all, how could the Scavengers, Lurkers, Fighters, Fences and Schemers of the Yoshiwara District make a living if the marks had a better place to go than the Yosh?

In his world, even his dream world, rich people had more than poor people, the genengineered Breeds ruled over the standard genetype Commoners, and everyone he knew in the Yoshiwara always looked to get the better part of any deal. Just one of the Standard Rules. Like, you don’t get something for nothing. Or, Serve and you eat, don’t Serve and you starve. They were rules he’d grown up with as he scavenged through the garbage piles of Alor City Dump.

He’d always followed the Rules. Until he talked to a piece of tied-up garbage named Sally and began the wildest adventure of his life.

In his dream she walked beside him, a slim, red-haired young woman who did not mind the fact he was a Commoner and she a Breed. Or that he counted just fourteen years while she claimed the wisdom of fifteen. He in turn had not minded how she’d grown up blessed with parents, a nice home, plenty to eat, perfect health and genes valuable enough that people would kill to own her, or her eggs. Together, they had beaten the efforts of the Church of Flesh to kill her, as her parents had been killed. And thanks to Sally, he’d begun to dream hopeful dreams.

But even in dreams you can’t escape what’s real.

His Talent reached into his dream, shook him, and surged him awake.

Danger!

Little Brother looked about the darkness of his hospital room, where he lay on a bed next to machines that hummed and beeped and twinkled with lights and panel readouts. It was a strange-smelling place where, only hours before, he’d been made a rich Commoner by the Viceroy Mestizo. Sally stirred beside him, still asleep. Sniffing deeply and turning his head to echo-locate any sounds, Little Brother felt outward with all his senses as he searched the darkness.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Nausea twisted his guts. Dizziness made him blink as his Talent surged again, warning of immediate danger.

In the room’s darkness, a shape moved.

He rolled out of bed, soundless as a rabrat, his stealth that of one who ate only when his nose found food in the garbage pile. Smell filled his stomach. And smell led him to his enemy.

Hiding behind a bank of monitoring equipment in case the assassin wore night vision goggles, Little Brother sniffed again. He found the assassin’s male odor just inside the closed door that led to the hallway. Carefully, he crept forward on fingers and toes.

Beep . . . beep, beep, beep! The shadow moved suddenly.

A bodyheat detector! Little Brother jumped.

Die you dirty little—Ooof!

His feet hit the assassin in the belly, knocking the man back against the wall. Metal panels clattered loudly. Something red-glowing went flying through the dark. Hands felt for him, strong hands. Something cold and sharp slashed past his ear.

Little Brother! screamed Sally as she awoke.

Still in darkness, he rolled on the floor with the assassin, struggling with the hand holding the knife. But his young muscles were no match for the strength of a grown man. A man who’d come to kill his Sally, his love. The assassin grabbed Little Brother from behind and reached around to stab him in the stomach.

No! he grunted, twisting with the man’s knife thrust. He pulled the knife-arm around his belly and shoved it back. Back against the heavy body that grasped him with strong legs and a heavy-muscled arm.

Uhhh! groaned the assassin.

A flood of wetness soaked Little Brother’s back. The sweet scent of blood filled his nose. The nausea from his Talent’s danger alert eased. Then the lights came on and a whooping alarm filled the white-walled room.

Little Brother? Sally stood by the nightstand, with one arm outstretched to the light control, the other raised towards him, as if she feared what she would see.

He rolled away from the assassin’s shivering body and sat up, reaction shaking him as the smell of blood nauseated him. I’m fine. Not hurt, he gasped out, offering her a weak smile. The alarm whooped loudly, hurting his ears.

Sally ran toward him, her eyes wide with fear and relief. Ohh! Oh! She fell to the floor beside him and wrapped arms around his neck. Who wants you dead? And why? she cried out fearfully. I thought the Viceroy caught the people who killed my parents!

I thought so too. He hugged her close, her girl smell filling his nose, then looked aside at the body dressed in a black skinsuit. It was a man, middle-aged and of light-brown skin coloring, whose right wrist showed the shorter GeneCode tattoo of a Commoner. Not the sixteen digits and five letters of the genetailored people he called Breeds. People like his Sally. And like the Viceroy Mestizo, who ruled their world on behalf of the Emperor.

Why? Sally moaned, crying into his neck. Why, oh why? Why can’t they just leave us alone!

You’re safe, he said, patting her back. Beside them, the red blood gushing from the man’s chest slowed to a trickle. But the warm flood had spread outward, soaking his bare feet and staining the edge of Sally’s flower-embroidered dress. He felt new shakes as battle reaction hit him, then looked up in time to see four green-armored combat troopers come rushing into the room.

Get back! ordered a helmeted trooper, her voice firm, decisive and very dangerous as she covered the assassin’s red-splashed body with her beamer rifle, while motioning her three comrades to fan out protectively. Margarethe, kill that alarm.

The whooping alarm suddenly shut off. Little Brother and Sally stood up and stumbled back toward the bed. Once they sat on it, Sally turned from him, her teary face filled with angry determination. "Capitao! Call the Viceroy! She must be informed of this attack."

The trooper slapped at her chest armor, where a string of lights blinked erratically. Already done. And she was already on her way over. Now please, shut up. I have work to do. The trooper capitao turned and motioned to one of her team. "Lopez! Get down to the Hospital coroner’s office. Rapido! I want them up here right away for a genematch ID on this corpse."

"Yes, capitao!" Lopez swung his beamer into standby carry and ran out the door into the hallway. The door hissed shut, then hissed open again. In walked Viceroy Mestizo.

You two! You all right?

"Yes, senhora," Sally said, her husky voice sounding very worried.

Little Brother eyed the stocky, black-haired Viceroy. Standing only a little taller than he, and still dressed in the formal pantsuit outfit she’d worn just hours ago, her hazel eyes flashed angrily. She’s safe, Viceroy. Did some of the Green Branch traitors escape?

No, you young fool! Mestizo said, stopping beside them and turning to look down at the assassin’s body. "Don Fonseca e Silva and his cohorts are on their way to the jungles east of the Purple Mountains even as we speak. But, Scavenger, you forget that they hired a Commoner to kill her parents. The man you killed at the Lima e Rosa cha estate. And maybe they hired someone else to kill you."

Me? he murmured, shocked by this change of fortune. Sally hugged him tightly, her breathing ragged. But the assassin was after Sally. She’s the Breed who—

Who now enjoys Imperial protection, Mestizo grunted harshly, not looking at him. "Capitao, put a sheet over the body, then get out of this room. Set up a protective cordon in the hallway and get the bedamned coroner up here now! I want holoimages, genetyping, the works! I want to know who this Commoner is. And fast."

Yes Viceroy. The trooper in charge covered the body and led her remaining team out of the room. The Viceroy turned to him and Sally, the anger leaving her cafe-black face as concern replaced it.

Scavenger, think! she said sternly. You are the only one known to be in this room. Not her. Beside him on the bed Sally gasped, trembled, and hugged his ribs tighter. Mestizo noticed. Her look softened. "Somebody wants you dead, young Scavenger. Looks like you’ll be needing those riches you wanted sooner than we thought."

I guess so. Little Brother sat up straighter and Sally let go her rib-hug but still held his hand as they sat on the edge of the bed. He felt nearly back to normal despite the fact he’d just killed a person. In the Dump, he’d seen much worse than a well-fed body lying on the ground with blood running from its chest, blue eyes staring wide open in surprised shock. But how do I access them? I’ve got no GeneCode tattoo. Never had a bank account either.

Mestizo grinned sardonically. Money takes care of everything. Breeds learned that long ago. Your palmprint is already on file under this young lady’s household account. Remember? You’re her adopted Commoner Servant. She’s the Breed you love. And now, I think it’s time you two left this Hospital. Mestizo paused, cold calculation washing over her face as she looked down at the sheet-covered body. "Senhora Alejandro, why don’t you take our Scavenger home with you? You’ll both enjoy better security in your skyhouse, I’ll have you out of my hair, and maybe, just maybe, the four days left until the start of the Emperor’s Life Day celebration will pass without any more emergencies thanks to you two."

Sally flushed darkly. But Viceroy! It’s not our fault that—

We’ll go, he said, squeezing Sally’s hand encouragingly. You need to change your clothes. He nodded at the blood-stained dress she wore. Sally gasped, looked ill a moment, then clenched her teeth. "I need a bath. And we both need to get ready for our trip to the Yoshiwara and then the countryside. Maybe things will be quieter on my cha plantation."

Mestizo looked from the dead body to him, one eyebrow lifting. "Her plantation, young Scavenger. Remember the Emperor’s rule—Breeds may not permanently transfer property to Commoners? She owns it now, in addition to inheriting her parents’ assets. She may be just fifteen years old, but still, she’s a Breed."

Sally looked furious. But that’s not fair!

The Viceroy eyed her calmly. "So? Life is not fair, young lady. Still, he is rich for a Commoner. Mestizo looked to him, her thin lips easing into a wry grin. I’ve already approved your application for a lifeterm Easement on the Fonseca e Silva fazenda, arranged for a bank account in your name that will receive the annual stipend that comes with the property, transferred all of Fonseca’s kronar accounts to you, and coded you for unlimited access to the Breed Compound. The Viceroy paused, her expression cooling. That is a high honor granted to very few Commoners."

It was indeed. Not even Don Jasidro the Schemer enjoyed unlimited access to the center of Alor City, the place where the genengineered people of his world ruled in wealth, power and knowledge. Thank you, Viceroy. May we leave?

Mestizo looked him up and down, then eyed his bandaged shoulder. How are your wounds?

Wounds? Surprise shook him. In the last few days he’d been shot through the leg with a carabina bullet, then slashed across his left shoulder with a beamer ray when he and Sally confronted ArchDeacon Marciano at the Genome Factory. Now, he hardly felt the searing pain he’d felt when first he’d awakened in Breed Central Hospital. He looked at his shoulder, lifted his left arm, put it down, lifted his leg, and realized he’d just fought a death fight—and yet, he’d felt hardly any pain from his wounds. He looked up to find that Mestizo now watched him closely.

They’re fine, he said. Which is impossible. I’m a Commoner and it takes days to heal from wounds like that. Fear filled him. Sudden fear that, while he slept, something had been done to him.

Sally turned to him, her light-brown face showing hope mixed with worry. Little Brother? Don’t you like not hurting so much?

Chills ran up his spine. Sally? Did you, have you . . . ? He let go of her hand.

His beloved Sally stared at him with a Breed look. It was the look of someone who knew what was best for him. It was not the look of someone who’d gone on the run with him from the Dump to Salt City Port, then inland to Dorf town and the upland plantations near the Purple Mountains, then returned to fight at the black stone Geef fortress of the Church of Flesh, the place where terrible genetic experiments occurred. Her eyelashes flickered nervously.

I . . . I asked the genedocs to give you fast wound healing and total disease resistance. She bit her lip. It’s not that expensive, you know. Just a few virusgenes injected into your bone marrow, and then . . . and then . . . The look in his eyes stopped her.

"I didn’t ask to be changed," he said, feeling vague fear.

You young idiot! Mestizo yelled at him. The Viceroy looked to Sally, whose eyes seemed suddenly wet, then back to him. No longer was she the indulgent Viceroy who didn’t mind helping two young lovers find a way to cope with sudden riches, and deadly danger. Instead, she looked at him the way a ruler looks at a subject. Commoner Little Brother, this Breed female, of the House of Alejandro, has graciously adopted you into her household, made you full lifepartner in her legal affairs— What? Was this like being married? But they couldn’t marry—the Viceroy herself had said earlier that it was against the law for Breeds to marry Commoners. She’s transferred the Fonseca e Silva estate to your lifetime use and control and she has paid a large sum of kronars to this Hospital to make sure your wounds will always heal Breed-fast. Nor will you ever get sick again.

Mestizo looked down at her fingerclock, cursed under her breath, then speared him with an impatient glare. Get out of this room! Both of you. I’ve got work to do, an Imperial Life Day celebration to orchestrate, and no time for a Commoner too foolish to appreciate his good fortune.

Little Brother stood up, grabbed his coveralls from the floor, slung his shorebag over his good shoulder and turned to Sally. His beautiful and loving Sally, who did not want him to hurt. I . . . I’m sorry, my love. It’s just going to take a while for me to adjust. But thank you. Sudden joy filled her teary eyes. "Hey, you still got those batika daydresses that Maria made for you?"

Yes! Oh yes! Sally jumped up, ran around a glowering Viceroy, grabbed her own clothes from the room’s closet, slung her shoes around her neck, then reached for his hand. Pax?

Pax, he said, taking her hand. Little Brother felt glad she was happy again, but not pleased the Viceroy watched as they resolved their first lover’s quarrel.

That’s better, Mestizo said, sounding less exasperated as she stood with fists on her hips. Now get!

Hand-in-hand they ran across the room and out into the hallway, startling the troopers on watch. Before any of their green-armored guardians could object, a trooper with the name R. Lopez stenciled over his chest armor hurried up. He was accompanied by a white-robed genedoc, presumably the Hospital coroner demanded by the Viceroy. Little Brother grinned defiantly. Let someone else serve as the main dish on the Viceroy’s dinner table!

They dressed in the elevator, during the ride down to the Plaza level of the Hospital. He pulled on worn green coveralls and she stuffed bare feet into the leather walking shoes he’d bought her in the Harun District. As she wrestled with the shoes, sitting on the elevator floor as if every day a rich Breed acted just like a poor Commoner, he felt a wild mix of feelings. Love. Amusement. Remnant irritation that she hadn’t discussed the virusgene treatments with him. And worry over the assassination attempt. Did he now pose a danger to Sally? Could she have been the intended target, despite what Mestizo had said?

Sally looked up, her lip-biting concentration fading as she noticed his worried look. You all right? she said, her voice husky-normal.

Yeah, he said, winking at her. I’m a Scavenger. Nothing ever worries us for very long.

His love eyed him skeptically. Sure. She looked down and finished pulling on her shoes, then stuffed the dresses into her supplybag.

Little Brother squatted down beside her, ignoring with difficulty the strange movement sensations of the elevator as it dropped dozens of floors. Actually, I was thinking how beautiful you look in that Breed dress. Goes nice with your hair and eyes.

Sally smiled warmly, no thought of deadly assassins showing in her grin. Oh, you Scavenger, you! She leaned over and grabbed his neck, kissed him soundly on the lips, then sat back, her mood changing abruptly to Breed-determined. Now don’t let the Viceroy bully you. She will, you know, if you don’t stand up to her.

"She is the Viceroy, ruler of three continents and three oceans, and a genengineered Breed, he said dryly, standing up as she stood. They reslung their bags as the elevator slowed its rapid descent. Commoners aren’t stupid, especially those without GeneCode tattoos."

Oh! Sally glanced down at Little Brother’s forearm, where only light-brown skin showed on his right wrist, instead of the blue ink tattoo of six digits and two letters that marked out most Commoners. She looked up and grinned her trademark wild grin. So what? We’ll just shock these Breeds as we exit their Hospital. Right?

What a partner! Right! Little Brother reached out, looped his arm in hers, and together they strode out the elevator door.

They entered a flurry of Breed men, women and children who moved about the Hospital’s ground level foyer. The Breeds moved with a sense of purpose, going to a genedoc appointment, leaving from one, getting genetic consultation about a hoped-for baby, and doing things only people with much money can even think of doing. Like replacing a worn-out organ with a cloned one. Or upgrading the speed of their reflexes. Or consulting with a biocosmetician on which skin and hair color would be most popular at the upcoming Life Day celebrations in honor of Emperor Solanius Donato Sextus the Twenty-Sixth. Only Breeds made a game of changing skin colors the way others changed clothes, thanks to a quick sniff from a virusgene inhaler. Commoners like Little Brother made do with the brown skin they’d been born with.

The sight of so much wealth worn as clothes, jewelry, and handheld devices, along with the perfect features and superior intellect allowed only to Breeds, roused his Scavenger nature. Little Brother rubbed hands together mentally, automatically planning who to scam, who to snatch a purse from, who to try a Bump and Run with, who to—

Little Brother! Sally looked sharply at him as they walked through the foyer, her expression half-amused. As if she’d been reading his mind.

Well, maybe so, if her Talent was that of a touch Empath, someone able to read emotions with a touch. After all, her parents had bought her an emoticat. "Uh, what Senhora Sally?"

Don’t try that innocent look with me, she said tartly.

Me, innocent?

But Sally turned as a white-robed biotech hurried up to them, perhaps concerned that a patient still wearing the Hospital’s tracker bracelet was about to leave without paying his bill. "Uh, Senhora, he began, have you—"

Don’t bother me! She glared at the hapless man. His bill has been paid by the House of Alejandro. I’m tired. My dress is ruined. And here’s your bedamned tracker bracelet. Little Brother?

He stripped off the red plastic bracelet and handed it to the biotech. You better pay attention to her. Little Brother couldn’t help smiling as Sally’s imperious Breed manner cowed the man. She’s got enough money to send you to the icy wastes of Berelindia.

Oh! Uh. Um. The biotech danced along beside them as they made their way through the long foyer. They ignored long looks from Breed merchants, Hospital staff and young children who didn’t know it was impolite to stare at a Commoner who’d found the money to get treatment in a Breed Hospital. The biotech looked down at the bracelet, looked up at a still glaring Sally, then offered a sickly smile. "Whatever you say, Senhora Alejandro. Thank you for making use of our facilities. If there is anything else we—"

Get out of my way. Sally leaned forward like the prow of a riverbarge and literally pulled Little Brother out through the exit doors.

A little rough on him, weren’t you? he said, shifting the shorebag to his right shoulder. Then his bare feet felt the cool rock of the stone-paved Plaza, which they’d just walked out onto. He looked upward. That made him stumble to a halt.

Outside, it was mid-morning in the high-walled Breed Compound at the center of Alor City, and Little Brother had never felt so strange. Never before had he stood so close to sky-high glass towers and steel-strutted buildings, or heard dozens of air cars whoosh through a pale blue sky like so many tiny birds. The air cars, rare in the Yoshiwara District, took off and landed on building roofs, ran at ground level like a ground skimmer, or departed with a supersonic Crack! Heading, perhaps, for upland locales like Dorf and Grande, or coastal towns like Recife, Belo Horizonte and Porto Alegre.

Only one of the three moons still hung in the morning sky. It was Mother’s Eye, glowing yellowy even as Daystar’s white heat warmed up flowcrete sidewalks, stone buildings, and brick warehouses. The sight of so much wealth and power made him feel—

Little Brother? Sally squeezed his left arm, drawing his attention. She had stopped when he’d stopped, allowing him time for neck-craning. Now she wore a mischievous grin. The view is even more impressive from my skyhouse.

Oh really? He resumed walking with her as they crossed Empire Plaza, heading for a glass and steel residence tower lying two blocks away. But now he kept glancing aside at her, a fifteen year old Breed woman who casually wore a dress that shimmered like the sun, showed the colors of Maria’s flower garden, and probably cost a year’s wages at Lady Melinda’s house of sensuous entertainment.

Just . . . oh, really? She seemed pleased by his inspection of her dress.

Little Brother finally got hold of his stumbling brains. Uh, you handled that biotech quite well.

Oh that? Sally shrugged, nodded politely at some Breed woman who seemed to know her, and kept on walking, despite curious looks from Breed passersby. She seemed as aware as Little Brother that he was the only Commoner in this street crowd of richly dressed people. Nothing to it. I learned how to handle officious people from my . . . from my— She choked and stared down at the ground.

From your mother? he said softly, realizing she had never really had time to grieve for her lost parents.

Sally sighed sadly, her gaze still fixed on the white flowcrete sidewalk. Yes, she husked, her voice sounding raw and full of pain. She sniffled, wiped at her eyes and looked up as they neared the residence tower. Well, there’s nothing to be done about it. They’re gone. I’m left behind. And we’re there. She glanced his way, her lips trembling. Thank you for standing by me.

Little Brother stopped there on the sidewalk, wrapped his arms around her, and hugged her close. To the Geef with Breed onlookers! His Sally still hurt from the murder of her parents and hurt badly. It was understandable. It had been only a month since she’d been tossed into the Dump, discarded by the murderer of her parents. Hey. He cupped her chin, kissed away her tears, and grinned his defiant Scavenger grin. Hey, you got yourself something better than an emoticat. You have me. For as long as you want me.

Oh, Little Brother! She hugged his neck so hard he wondered if she’d break something. Around them people went about their business. The sight of her Breed GeneCode tattoo must have reassured them about the presence of an unCoded Commoner standing just outside a rich residential tower.

Eventually they untangled themselves, reslung their bags, and entered the tower. Stopping in the security alcove, Sally placed her palm against the wall Identiplate, waited as the device confirmed she was a resident, then led