Free Skyfall by Anthony Eaton Page B

managed to squeeze herself onto the end of a long bench. The guy behind the counter was the same one who’d been on that morning and he acknowledged her order with a quick nod; she was a regular, after all.
    Copygen.
    She cursed herself for letting him get to her like that, but sometimes with Lari it was just so difficult to stay focused. He had no perspective.
    It wasn’t his fault, though. She knew that. All the upper-level kids were the same, and Kes had been dealing with them from the moment she’d set foot in the advanced school.
    â€˜People who only ever see the world from above soon forget to look up, Kesra. Don’t let yourself become one of them, will you, darling? Go to their school, learn anything they can teach you, but never forget where you come from, sweetheart…’
    Her father’s voice still rang clear in her memory. She’d been so excited to get accepted, so pleased with herself. Everyone knew that mixed-use kids didn’t get into the advanced school, but she had. She was the first one ever. Everyone else had been thrilled, too. Everyone except her father.
    â€˜The higher you go, the thinner the air.’
    At the time she’d been furious with him for – as she saw it then – ruining her big moment. But now, looking back …
    â€˜Excuse me, Miss? May I take this seat?’
    Without waiting for permission, a man in a rumpled worksuit slid onto the bench alongside her. He was in his mid-twenties, perhaps. Despite the heat in the ref, he hadn’t removed his jacket, and a sheen of sweat gleamed on his forehead as he shoved his way onto the bench. People grumbled, but they shuffled along to make room.
    â€˜Lovely day, isn’t it?’
    â€˜I suppose.’
    She hoped he wasn’t one of those sleazy types. At this point, all Kes wanted was a caf and then she’d go home and think about making up with Lari.
    She knew she’d have to. It had been silly of her to let things go as far as they had, but sometimes he was just so … dense. And she really did like him, despite everything. They’d have been friends anyway, even without …
    â€˜Are you having … caf?’
    â€˜Yes.’ She tried to edge a little further away from her unwanted companion, but the place was crammed with mid-level workers and late-shift managers all having their tween-shift break, and there wasn’t a single centimetre of spare space.
    â€˜I’d have thought you a bit too … young for that.’
    The man had a habit of pausing in the middle of his sentences, as though considering his next word and then over-emphasising it. She wondered if he thought it made him sound intelligent.
    â€˜Listen, mate—’
    â€˜Relax, Kesra.’ The man grinned. ‘Don’t go jumping to the wrong … conclusions.’ He pulled back his sleeve to reveal a pale, faded mark on the skin of his right wrist: two tridents, the same as the one on her pendant. ‘I’m just like you.’
    Kes couldn’t stop her eyes doing a quick flick around the ref. There didn’t appear to be anyone else watching but it was impossible to tell for sure.
    â€˜I’m not Underground.’ She kept her voice to a whisper.
    â€˜You’ve got a chain around your pretty little neck which says otherwise.’ The man covered his wrist. ‘In any case, you can relax. I’m just here to ask how your morning went. Did you get up to anything … exciting?’
    She fixed the man with a stare.
    â€˜There were no problems, if that’s what you’re asking.’
    Her caf arrived, along with one for the stranger, even though she hadn’t seen him order it. He winked at the waitress.
    â€˜Thanks.’
    There was definitely something shifty about this one, Kes decided. Mind you, that shouldn’t have surprised her. A lot of Underground guys were like that, especially the mid-level ones like this bloke. They thought they