The enclave is just up ahead. It is not hard to spot with clear, un-augmented eyes. There are old sheets of iron riveted together, and someone has painted a name above the rough doors. NEWYORK.
I have no idea what a newyork is, but it must have meaning to the scum. I need to become adept in their ways. Perhaps I will inquire as to the significance of the word when they have allowed me into their home. If I am nervous as I approach the gates, I try not to show it. I almost died in Rath’s arms not an hour ago. I can’t afford to think about all the stress I’m feeling or I’ll end up curled up in a gutter begging for death.
As I approach, two humans emerge. Scum guards. I have to stop calling them scum, even mentally. It will offend them greatly to be called such, and destroy any chance of them ever helping me.
“Hello, fellow people,” I say exceptionally awkwardly, as I am met by the pair of them.
They are massive in their own right. I can see they have illegal augs fitted badly to their shoulders and left eyes. Both men have shaved their heads entirely besides a circle of hair at the rear from which plumes emerge to create long dark, thick ponytails hanging down their backs. I don’t know why that makes them look more intimidating, but it does.
Their attire is practical, loose pants which terminate in long, wrapped boots. Everything they are wearing is made from scavenged material. I’m fairly certain their jackets have been made from crashed korabi car seat covers, but by someone who knew what they were doing. Scum ingenuity is impressive.
“What are you doing, lite?” The one on the left of me speaks first. His voice is harsh. It sounds like he’s been smoking a lot. Scum will set anything on fire and inhale it if there is even the slightest chance it will make them feel better. They are constantly trying to escape reality.
They call me lite, because they’re not going to call me an elite. They think I’m a traitor who sold out to their korabi overlords and became a tool of oppression helping to destroy humanity one act of soulless cruelty at a time. They're not wrong.
“I’m not a lite.” I try an outright denial to see how that works. It fails immediately.
“Yes, you are. You’re wearing your lite uniform.”
He’s right. I am. That’s going to be a problem in so many ways. I would have gotten changed, but I didn’t have a chance.
“What if I gave you this uniform, and I get some other clothes in return? You could use lite clothing to escape notice when you perform your illegal, I mean, inventive raids.”
“What if we kill you and take it?”
Of course they’re threatening my life. That’s the theme of today, apparently. I have to keep my cool. Freaking out will only encourage them to take advantage of me. I am already half their size and a fraction of their combined strength.
“I feel like my deal was fairer.”
“She's a girl,” the guard who hasn’t spoken yet says. He has very intense eyes, and a tattoo of a raven covering the left side of his face. “We’re not killing a girl.”
“Listen. I’m going to be honest. I’ve been algo’d out of the system. I’m wanted. If I stay out here, surveillance will come over and I’ll be dead by night. If you don’t help me…” I bite my lower lip. “It’s over for me.”
“We might not kill her, but we don’t have to save her either,” the guy with no tattoo says.
“She could go to another enclave and be used there. Better she comes here. She looks young enough to serve.”
“Lites can’t breed,” No Tattoo says.
“Right. So you don’t have to worry about…” Raven Face makes a suggestive wiggle with his brows. It takes me a second to work out that they are referring to the anti-fertility implant which is injected into every elite. Humans are not permitted to breed in Megaris. Our population is strictly controlled because, according to korabi literature, if given the opportunity we will proliferate until there is nothing left. Scum do not submit to the implants, and so they quite often produce offspring. If they are caught with an infant, the punishment is severe and cruel. I don’t want to think about it.
“You want lite pussy?”
That question, from one guard to the other, clarifies matters. They’re talking about using my body. There are a lot of questions around whether it is more freeing to be elite or scum, but the truth is if you are female, there is no such thing as freedom in Megaris. There are only different degrees of servitude.
I decide slip away while they’re arguing about whether I’m worth fucking. At no point in any of their discussions had they considered for a second whether or not I would be amenable to such an arrangement. Among the humans, women are considered useable commodities. Sex is the second preferred currency on Megaris. I’ve never had it, of course. That might make me more valuable in their eyes. The chance to destroy something is always precious.