Twenty minutes later, Connor stood at the pharmacy window. The tunnel here was coated with a thick layer of plaster, much like the rest of Flores Greens. Green and white tiles covered the floor, and warm yellow light came from delicate brass sconces set into the walls outside the pharmacy. He pressed a small buzzer set in the wall and waited. The place had been in the Ritty family for generations, and he knew everyone who worked here. Usually, it was Marina who was here at this hour. She was a pretty woman with tightly coiled hair and bright, intelligent eyes. Connor had nearly asked her out once, but that was a long time ago.

"Meow."

Connor snapped out of his thoughts and looked down to see a brown striped tabby. It was Bug, Marina's cat, and she sat waiting expectantly. Her pink tongue flicked out to lick her nose. She was allowed free roam of Flores Greens, but she usually liked to hang around the pharmacy. Over the years, she'd done a good job at training customers to give her food. Connor grinned and dug into a pocket at his right thigh. He usually kept a packet of dried fish-flakes there just for this occasion.

"Hey Bug," said Connor, crouching down. He shook a few flakes onto the tiled floor in front of Bug and gave her a quick scratch behind the ear. She nuzzled his hand, purring, and then went straight to business, lapping up the fish-flakes. Connor chuckled.

Up above, the grate of a sliding window pane caught Connor's attention. He looked up as someone popped her head out through the pharmacy window.

"Yes? Can I help you?" she asked. She had hazel eyes, brown skin and browner freckles. Her dark curls were braided away from her face, and when Connor stood up, he saw that her nametag read Tess Ritty. Connor raised an eyebrow. He didn't recognize her.

"Um, yeah," he said. "Connor Rocha. I'm here for a prescription refill."

Tess's eyebrows shot up to her hairline. "Connor Rocha?" she repeated slowly. Connor grimaced and nodded.

"Yeah, not who you're thinking of," he said. He placed his hand on the windowsill, palm up. There were a series of dots at the base of his shae band coded just to him. Tess would need to read his biometrics to verify his identity and get his meds. Tess blinked and scrambled to find the scanner to pull his information. She fumbled with it a bit, and when she finally got everything onto a datalog screen hidden behind the window, she blinked again.

"Connor Rocha for parlin, thirty doses of two mils each..." she turned to him, confusion written all over her face. "You've got Rochagorosis?"

Connor sighed. He hated this.

Nearly fifty years ago, Cynwrig's bloodrot had come to Flores Greens. Heart had always suffered from outbreaks of the illness. That was just an accepted part of living here. It came from outside of the subterranean city, from deep within the planet's natural tunnel system, and it attacked the blood, brain, organs, everything. Spurted out of infected bodies in black dust. Drove even the sanest men mad. Movement between Heart's sub-cities was highly regulated to try and keep it in check, but it just took one infected person – one poorly guarded exit – to set off an epidemic. There was no treatment.

Heart Central always cut off travel to and from infected sub-cities and let them rot. Sub-cities that survived did so by murdering their sick and disposing of the bodies in acid. Connor's granddad, Matteo Rocha, was a young scientist during the Flores Greens outbreak. He was also an incredibly stubborn man, and when his wife became sick, he hid her while trying to develop a cure. Well, he came up with something...sort of. The drug that Matteo Rocha developed was effective enough against Cynwrig's bloodrot, and it was administered immediately to everyone affected by the outbreak. It saved thousands of lives – definitely a better alternative to murdering sick people – but it was eventually discovered anyone born to an infected parent developed Rochagorosis.

Connor's dad, Samuel, was Matteo's youngest son, born shortly after these events, so Connor was doomed with the disease from the start. Matteo also had one other son, Sebastian, who was born prior to the outbreak and who had helped Matteo develop the parlin meds to keep Samuel alive. Heart Central was no help in any of this. Matteo's initial drug was deemed a failure and never even named. There was no more research on that or parlin or Rochagorosis – nothing. Matteo himself was becoming quite ill at that time, and because there was uncertainty as to whether Connor's father would survive, Matteo willed his life's work on Cynwrig's bloodrot and parlin to Sebastian. Uncle Sebastian's family eventually developed into a powerful pharmaceutical empire. Connor's family, however, got left behind. With Rochagorosis.

The Rocha family usually kept a low profile, so it wasn't much of a household name. But everyone in healthcare knew exactly who they were, so occasionally, Connor would run into someone who thought he was filthy rich. He looked up at Tess's expectant face and shrugged. Luckily, at that moment, Marina came to his rescue.

"Tess!" she barked, "Don't be rude. Go get the man his meds."

"But he's that guy –"

"Now!" Marina shook her head as Tess scurried off. There was always this no-nonsense sort of way to her. "My little sister," she explained with a nod in Tess's direction. "She needed a job to help pay her way through University. Sorry about that," Marina turned to the datalog.

"She seems kinda young," said Connor. Marina just shook her head again, tapping at her datalog screen, lips pursed. Probably calculating out how much he owed.

"She's nineteen. Only a few years younger than you and me," she said. Marina looked back at Connor, changing the subject. "I was starting to get worried when you never came in for a refill. You haven't been rationing your meds, have you?"

Connor shrugged. "I wouldn't if they didn't keep hiking the price. It's expensive not being dead." He wasn't dirt poor, but just having enough meds on hand took a massive cut out of his paycheck. Bug rubbed up against his leg, meowing once more. Connor still held the packet of fish-flakes, so he shook out a few more for her.

"Connor! Stop feeding my cat – you're going to make her fat!" exclaimed Marina. Connor just grinned and crouched down to grab Bug and hoist her up to the pharmacy window. She was used to him by now and didn't mind being held, so long as she got fed.

"But a fat cat is a happy cat!" he answered. "Besides, she's not even that fat yet. I'm sure she gets plenty of exercise running around the Greens all day – whoops!" Bug squirmed out of his arms and dropped back to the ground to finish her fish-flakes.

Marina gave a laugh as Tess reappeared with a box full of Connor's prescription. The younger girl set it down in front of Connor and leaned forward.

"Marina's been worried because there've been more disappearances than usual," said Tess. "Just this week, two Rochagorosis patients have turned up missing in the news. Sammy Cain and Grey Clemmons –"

"Tess!" Marina's voice came as a sharp rebuke. "How many times do I have to tell you? No sharing patient information."

Tess made a strangled noise and clapped her hands over her mouth.

"Sorry!" she squeaked, scooting further back into the pharmacy until she disappeared. Connor raised an eyebrow. Disappearances happened. They weren't news at all. But there were so few people with Rochagorosis left that it was odd for two to go missing at once. He knew about Grey Clemmons already. Older guy – friends with Connor's dad and constantly complaining about how he'd get priced out of his excessively expensive apartment someday. Samuel Rocha had been pretty torn up about his friend's disappearance when he'd heard the news. Connor had never heard either of them talk about Grey having Rochagorosis though. Not exactly surprising. Just wasn't something that people talked about.

This was the first that Connor had heard of the other guy though.

Marina let out an exasperated sigh.

"Seriously, that girl needs to learn to be a bit more professional and stop running her mouth all the time," she muttered. Connor shrugged.

"It's whatever," he said. "The price still eight-fifty-two?"

Marina nodded. Connor grimaced, but he'd been expecting it. He should still have at least a thousand kreds stored on his shae band. He'd be able to pay just fine, but worry over his rent was starting to creep back now that he was feeling a bit more normal.

"On second thought," he said. "Give me fifteen doses. Rent's coming up tomorrow."

"Seriously, Connor?" said Marina.

"Yeah, I'll be back once I can get in some more overtime at work. I'll be fine, don't worry about me."

Marina narrowed her eyes.

"I promise I'll be back soon," insisted Connor, and after an extra moment, Marina sighed and opened the parlin box. She pulled out fifteen cartridges, set them in a smaller box, and finalized Connor's payment on the datalog screen.

"Here," she said, pushing the new box towards Connor. Connor grabbed it with a nod of thanks and turned to go. He'd dump all of the parlin into the same vial to take as needed once he got home. Definitely wasn't supposed to do that, but it kept things cheaper.

"Hold on a moment," called Marina one last time. Connor turned around to see her holding two extra parlin cartridges between her fingers. "These ones are on me. Do not ration them." Connor grimaced, but there was no saying 'no' to Marina, so he accepted them, tucking them into his pocket. She was probably right. He really shouldn't be rationing this stuff – not even for rent.