she said pointedly, giving Monkey a sideways glance. âYou know, as if I was thinking about my own future career.â
âGo on,â Monkey said.
âWell, turns out, she had a client who was accused of stealing from the house of this post-nurturer whoâs in The Assembly. She lives in a massive mansion about three Ks east of Beauchamp Park, outside town, and Security claimed that they had footage of Salâs client entering and leaving the property. But Sal discovered that it was a fit up. And she proved it because none of the cameras work once you get out of the street light zone.â
âWhat?â
âItâs true. The cameras outside town are dummies; the cost of electricity would be too much to run them, so theyâre just there as a deterrent.â
Monkeyâs mind went into overdrive. âHave you any idea what this information would do if it got out?â
âExactly,â Angel said. âIt mustnât get out. As a solicitor, Sal had to sign an Official Confidentiality Order. She only let it slip because we were talking one night after Alex had gone to bed and sheâd had a couple of kegs. Sheâd lose her job if they knew.â Angel looked at him anxiously. âPromise me, this is between you and me. You wonât tell the hood?â
Monkey nodded slowly, taking in the information sheâd just told him. âSo, it doesnât matter whether we go on the roads or the track.â He smiled. âWhaled! Letâs take the direct route, then.â
Most of the sleepers and train tracks had long since been removed from the embankment, leaving it overgrown and stony but, nevertheless, straight. Angel and Monkey kept up a brisk pace, sometimes chatting about people at school; staff and students, and their hopes for their futures, sometimes maintaining an easy silence. It was cold but the constant movement kept them warm. Monkey found it eerily quiet once they left the street-lit suburbs of town. From their elevated position, they could look down on the largely overgrown roads. There was no street lighting out in the rurals and they saw no State vehicles, either Security or official Assembly limos, to cast their headlights on the roads and offer some illumination. The moonless night afforded them plenty of cover but also made their progress slower than theyâd hoped. It was pitch-dark but it was too risky to use the torch out in the open and they both stumbled on stones and potholes along the way.
Theyâd been walking for just over half an hour when Angelâs ring-cam lit up; it was her nurturer. Angel dodged down into one of the bushes that had sprouted up along the track and answered.
âSorry, darling, Iâm going to need you to come home tonight,â Sally said. âIâve got a big case thatâs in court on Monday and I need to work late tonight.â
âSal!â Angel couldnât hide her disappointment. âAlex is twelve now, he doesnât need me to be there.â
âYes, he does. Now, donât argue. You can stay over at Moniâs tomorrow night. Make sure youâre home by nine.â The dial went blank.
Angel kicked at a stone in frustration. Monkey felt sorry for her; that was the difference between being a pre-breeder and a pre-nurturer he supposed. There was no way heâd go home just because Vivian told him to but, then, his nurturer had no jurisdiction over him; in a few weeks heâd be a free agent and she knew it. Angel, on the other hand would be under Salâs thumb for years, probably decades. Even when Angel was a nurturer in her own right, Sal would still be the head of the family, just as his grand-mov was (in theory, anyway) the matriarch in Vivianâs little kingdom.
âCome on, letâs go back,â he said with resignation.
Angel shook her head. âNo, you go on. Take the torch and the map.â She opened the paper and shone the thin beam of light
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley