Page 10 of As You Wake, Break the Shell

Cora opened her mouth, then closed it. She’d thought a lot about how this conversation might go. None of her imaginings were this. “Okay,” she said, putting up her palms. “Hang on.” She unzipped one of the pockets on her jacket, pulled out her wallet, removed a card of her own, and set it on the counter, facing Signy. She felt like she was playing poker.

Signy peered at Cora through her lashes, then leaned forward to see the card. Her blink came faster this time. “You’re a pilot,” she said mildly.

“That I am,” Cora said. She pointed at the holographic stamps beside her portrait. “Quarry runner.”

“Oh.” Signy remained impassable, but a note of surprise snuck through. “That kind of pilot.”

Cora nodded, continuing to smile. “Yep.”

“Hm.” A glimmer of intrigue crossed Signy’s eyes, quick as lightning. “I’ve never met one of you before.” Cora hoped this might mean a thaw in the overall mood, but apparently a badge that didn’t say cop wasn’t assurance enough. Signy reached under the counter again, this time retrieving a high-end ID scanner. Anybody could buy one of those, technically, but Cora had never seen one outside of a city office or a medical clinic.

Signy waved the handheld wand over Cora’s card, unhurried. A square of blue light flickered over the stamps, the text, the photo. At last, the wand gave its verdict: a nonthreatening chirp. The square of light turned green.

“See?” Cora said. “Not a cop.”

Signy tilted her head in acceptance. “Printing medicine outside of a licensed medical facility is illegal,” she said, handing the badge back.

Cora nodded. “I am aware.”

“And illegal things make people lose their business licenses. Or their pilot’s licenses.”

“I am also aware of that.” Cora had the sense this might be leading where she wanted—or at least she hoped so.

Signy picked up her tea. She cupped the curved mug with her palm and took a sip. “Do you know why printing medicine is illegal?”

Cora’s default mode was to keep things light, no matter the subject, and she hoped that instinct would serve her here. She smirked a little. “Uh, because the city government hates laws that would make life easier?”

Signy squinted, perhaps amused. “No. Well, yes. But in this case, there is a legitimate reason for it.”

“And that is?”

“If you have to ask, then you shouldn’t be talking to strangers about where to get it done.”

It was Cora’s turn to be amused—or maybe confused, or both. She didn’t understand Signy’s prickliness any more than she understood the onions, but weirdly, that only made Cora want to continue the conversation, regardless of where it ended up. She really wanted to know what this lady’s deal was. “I mean—” The right approach was not obvious, so she took a stab in the dark. “I get that it could be dangerous—”

“There is no could be,” Signy snapped.

Wrong approach.

“The reason it’s illegal to print medicine outside of official manufacture is because printing medicine is very dangerous. You fuck up one protein, one molecular chain, and you’ve killed someone.” Signy jutted her chin in the direction of the street. “There are plenty of idiots out there who will download a template from who knows where and don’t understand the underlying workings of what it will do. The only thing they achieve is making people worse off than they were before.”

“But not you,” Cora challenged, gently, carefully. “You’re not one of the idiots.”

Signy squinted harder. “Where did you get the idea that I do this?”

“Maisie Hanson,” Cora said.

Signy smacked her lips lightly. “Mm.” She considered this and sipped her tea. “I think she may have come in once or twice,” she said, in the sort of voice you’d use if you knew exactly who someone was and there’d been a lot more than once or twice. “What did she say to you?”

“Well, I was at—do you know where she works? Heartwise House?”

“Sounds like a children’s home.”

“Yeah.” And I think you know it is. “I was there the other day—”

“Why?”

“I grew up there,” Cora said. “I visit, sometimes.”