Sitting in a hotel room, Lydia stared at her reflection. The material of her shirt was the softest she'd ever felt. Everything she wore was tailor made, Joshua had seen to that. Every part of Lydia was primped and pampered as Joshua stood to the side of the room, holding Lydia's new dowry diskette in his hand.

In all honesty, Lydia wanted to tell him to keep it-but she couldn't. Money was never Joshua's objective, self-assurance was. Assuming Joshua was right about the debt, unless Lydia planned to disappear into the Lower-Levels and start life again as a very well-dressed miner, the money Midge held for her wouldn't have much of an impact. It'd be a waste.

Over and over again, Lydia told herself not to doubt it-just believe that it's enough. She hadn't accepted Joshua's suit, but by the end of the night, she'd have to.

So what? It's not the end of it. It doesn't automatically mean marriage. If anything, it might encourage other suitors to come.

Hovering servants rushed around her, fixing every detail.

But maybe having Joshua as a suitor might look bad enough to kill all other potential suitors' interests.

She'd look too desperate. She was desperate.

How the hell did you get here? The mirror held no answer.

But she was here, accepting a suit with the intent to bed the man. This wasn't the time for second guessing, but maybe that was the problem, this disgusting trade.

Was that all Joshua-all Lydia was worth?

No. Lydia shouldn't accept the suit. She should go to dinner, play the part she was supposed to play, lie down at the end of the night, stifle a few gags and take the crawl of shame home.

She'd done far worse for Abraham.

The mirror afforded Lydia a view of Joshua's scrutiny and admiration.

And then there was Joshua, that walking puppet. His face was so different, even the ears were tucked neatly back. The look in his eyes was one Lydia calmed upon seeing. Joshua...her bucked-tooth, scrawny little hero, always trying to save her. Even now. And what did Lydia force him to give in return?

Before a servant could clip her hair, Lydia caught hold of the scissors. "Thanks, but I'll do it myself."

Joshua smiled. "Do you always cut it yourself? The style you wore last season was the best, I think."

Last season must have meant the end of the last school quarter. That had been a rough time.

Lydia had been cutting her own hair for as long as she could remember. Dizzy couldn't be trusted with sharp objects as far as she was concerned. Before that, Milton had done it. It'd been years since he'd found the time. Even without her vision, she'd cut it. When instructed by Abraham, there was no room for mistakes. She'd done it perfectly.

Everyone shuffled out and Lydia was finally finished with her own preparations.

The way Joshua watched her, diskette clenched in his hands, was reminiscent of a crazed fan. Lydia had never performed anywhere professionally though, and her parts in the school activities were minor and forgettable.

Short of one of Abraham's twisted sessions, there wasn't a claim to acting anywhere. Joshua's adoration was misplaced, but so many things about Joshua were.

Joshua ambled over and put the diskette down. "Here. You'd be wise to keep this safe. Credits like these don't come along every day. Short of holding a serious raid, I doubt you'd find this much again in your lifetime."

Lydia watched Joshua's proud posture. Something inside failed to function.

"How is it you seem to know more about my finances than me?" Lydia asked.

She didn't mean to sound harsh, but the proverbial pats on the head were getting a bit annoying now.

Joshua returned her gaze, albeit courtesy of the mirror. "It was your mother's design, wasn't it? Her father was killed in that raid. She even took in the E responsible as a sign of forgiveness."

Lydia waited. There had to be some punchline.

"Her diskette was empty."

"Empty?" Lydia asked, turning in her chair. "What do you mean?"

"At the raid. Your mother was at the raid. Her diskette was empty. If not for her father's death, people might have talked about it more. So can I ask you Lydia, why would a woman with so many dowries and suitors not bring any of it to one of the biggest events of the season?"

Lydia didn't have an answer to give. She'd never thought about it.

"Because she had none. My mother said Daphne bankrupted the estate by making fake accounts and using it to pay into her private dowry. The E assigned to her in compensation for her father's death never worked a day. An obedient E is one thing. A house can thrive that way, but a rueful one...well, that'll bankrupt a master within decades. I was surprised she could afford to send you away to school."

Regret pulsed through Lydia as she turned to her own reflection again.

"I expect you will handle yours accordingly when the time comes," Joshua said.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Osbourne didn't really earn this-any of it. Should you say as much, the Colony will consider it a default on an agreement. You could stake a claim to him. They'll likely brand him to your house and he'll provide fuel and warmth. Play your cards right, assign him to your home for a number of years, and you'll get out of this in no time."

Willingness to 'claim' Osbourne was long gone and so were whatever small shreds of amicable feelings Lydia might have mustered for Joshua.

With a sigh, Lydia turned to him. "May I speak freely?"

Joshua nodded. "Of course."

"I know...you're very smart. And that's one feature I still admire about you. But the way you...the way you talk about people, as if they're playthings, it...it worries me."

Silent for some time, Joshua stared at her. Finally, he blinked. "I don't understand."

"Well, E's for example...."

"But they're servants. If you let an E run wild, it'll begin to rip everything apart. People like structure. They need structure, and they thrive best when it's in place."

Lydia wasn't quite sure about that, but she tried anyway-it had been a long time since they'd talked.

"Josh...Joshua, sometimes people like to pretend we're the same. Even servants."

"Lydia," Joshua said, crouching. "You can be so naïve. Let's be honest, you have no true home. Your father is a cad, your mother's a wreck, and let's not forget that for someone whose parents are rather pale, of European descent, and tall, you, on the other hand, are short, and resemble the maid in great detail."

He studied Lydia's face as if daring her to form a rebuttal. Lydia had nothing to say.

"Yet I pursue you," Joshua said. "I pursue you as if you were my peer. And I do this out of respect. I'm not saying any of this to be rude, but I do wonder if you are realistic. You don't have many options. At least you have a flair for the arts. Be grateful Abraham took such an interest in you as he did."

The very name made Lydia flinch. Never had she heard such an awful insult said in such a gentle manner. It only helped to intensify the sting.

To Lydia's horror, Joshua continued, "That's what others will see when they look for someone to woo. That's probably why not many have even made the offer to be your suitor. But I give you value because I know you have value. I've seen you perform; I've seen what you're capable of, and I know one day you'll rule this Colony if you ever build up the courage to try. But let's get one thing clear, not everyone is equal, not everyone is worth your time, and the sooner you realize that, the better off you'll be."

The door slid open and a cheerful voice announced, "Master Joshua, dear, all arrangements have been set." Mrs. Laurence paused when she focused on Lydia. "Oh, you are busy."

Still crouched down and facing Lydia, Joshua let out a held breath. He rose to his feet and marched her out the door.

One thing caught Lydia's attention and she could think of nothing else. Joshua had seen her perform. Perform where?

Lydia couldn't claim to know much about average people, but she knew a thing about those she considered perverts. Joshua had never been rude or any way loose to her, but there was only one type of performance Lydia was aware of, and no one but a select few should have seen them.

"Unless they were part of the audience," she muttered to herself. "Oh shit." Eyes closed, she stood, chanting. "Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit."

The door slid open again and Mrs. Laurence entered with her head bowed. "Please forgive my intrusion, Mistress Lydia."

Joshua nudged her aside and entered. "Stupid bitch."

Lydia barely waited for the door to close. "How many of Abraham's sessions did you attend?"

Joshua slowed in his stride, taken aback.

"How much of my suffering did you pay good money to wank to?"

Face set in a stony expression, Joshua stared her down. "Thirty years of credits."

The answer didn't make sense. "What does that mean?"

"That's how much it cost to buy each and every private recording diskette sent out. I didn't attend any of your 'sessions,' if you must know, but they were hard to miss. Two of them got into the risqué recreations archive, and I paid to have those ones removed as well. Did I watch them? Yes I did. Some were enticing, others just made me embarrassed for you."

Lydia opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

He'd watched them....

"So before you dare attack me, how about offering up some thanks for your carelessness?"

"Carelessness?" Lydia stared at him, awe stealing her ability to even breathe. "Carelessness?"

"A lot of those happened long after you should have known better." Joshua sighed. "I do not want to have this discussion. Prepare yourself for dinner. I've wasted a lot of time planning everything with little or no notice. I even sent for the old hag to make sure everything would be taken care of. I've planned some of the best attractions for the night, even a lavish dinner, but I'm sure you'll find something wrong with that as well, because you'll use any damn excuse to shame me."

The door closed shortly after, shattering Lydia as if she'd been standing in the thing's path. With how she felt, she wished she had been.

Lydia's eyes drifted to the dowry diskette and she wanted to break it. Her own reflection put her at ease. At least this time she looked like a noblewoman when she was cut down to size.

She felt gutted, but she'd been gutted with her clothes on. It wasn't like being half naked when she came to at that club, half naked when Joshua and Osbourne's twin came. She was dressed and she was fed up.

If Joshua knew all this, Lydia wasn't sure she could stand the man. Joshua had seen them. Who knows how many of those sessions he'd seen. He'd seen them, and it was far too much to bear.

Lydia picked up the diskette and hurried to the door, determined to pay the asshole for his 'great efforts,' maybe she could throw in a few weeks' worth of credits with a hearty 'go fuck yourself' as she raced by.

She entered the hallway to the sound of yelling. Servants scurried by. Someone got a kick in the back. Joshua caught another by the hair, barking that he should help the fallen one up.

Whatever the exchange going on, Mrs. Laurence stood before him, her head hung.

Everyone stopped moving when instructed. Mrs. Laurence took the brunt of the verbal attack. She didn't respond much to each shove of the shoulder. She nodded her head and opened the door on her right. After she entered, Joshua followed.

As soon as their door closed, Lydia stood to her full height and retreated back into the room.

Eyes wide, she told herself she should consider all possible avenues before forming any strange conclusions.

"Fuck it." She grabbed the last of the outfit, a very nice brown dress and black jacket.

The dowry diskette rested on the vanity. Try as she might, she couldn't think to throw her morals away, not in this place. Not with the gaw-ro Laurences.

She wasn't going to spend time debating it. Leaving the diskette where it was, she gathered up the clothes she'd come in, clenched them in her hands and shot from that room-right into another person.

Lydia stifled a yelp. When she stepped back, one of the twins came into focus.

"Mr. Osbourne?"

The twin blinked. "Hey? Um...what are you doing here?"

Lydia fought to answer, but shame stole her breath. Following through on the escape plan was a must. The twin caught her before she could dart to the right, not even certain if that was the best way to go. It was away from Joshua, though.

The grip was like a vice. "Hey, calm down. Calm down. Are you all right?" When Lydia didn't answer, the man let out a sigh. "It's me, Midge. I know we're hard to tell apart, but geez."

Aching and confused, Lydia remained rigid. Finally, the big brute stepped back and held her shoulders. "Are you okay?"

Lydia hesitated. "I'm heading out of this hotel...."

"There's no way in hell you could mistake this place for a hotel." Midge furrowed his brow. "This is one of Joshua's private houses. He hasn't given you anything to confuse you, has he?"

The words failed to compute but that didn't matter; Lydia had other things on her mind. Lydia stared up at him and smiled. "You wanna be my escort, Mr. Osbourne? 'Cause I'm about to bust outta here."

"Yeah? What's got you spooked?"

"Oh nothing," Lydia tittered, "Just a good meal and the prospect of a warm bed for the night."

"This is really no time to joke," Midge said. "This place is gonna be crawling with rich guests in about thirty minutes."

Lydia had expected a private setting. She could just imagine the chaos. Now she realized why Midge had come.

His target.

This wasn't like the fake raid, though. The Laurences were well-informed about E's and a lot of other things. As unreasonable as it was, Lydia worried for Midge.

"We should go," Lydia insisted.

Midge's face colored; he looked guilty. "I can't. I have...I have to get my pay...this one last time."

Lydia blinked at him. "Your pay?" So Joshua had paid Midge. Lydia couldn't imagine what that might have been or what could be important enough to bring him here. "Well, whatever it is, maybe I can get it for you."

Midge didn't offer her a response.

"It's not safe here," Lydia warned.

"Queenie will take you to Big Henry. From there you can head home," Midge said.

As sincere as those words sounded, Lydia felt ill-at-ease. She couldn't. Not with knowing Midge would be here.

"So you're talking to me finally?" Queen called out. "It's interesting that you assume I won't just leave her in the Deadzone. She's a lot more trouble than I'm willing to put an effort out for."

Midge didn't answer or afford him a glance.

Down the hall, hands in his pockets, that usual not-happy-to-see-you expression firmly in place, Queen watched them.

It took ages before Midge finally called back, "Fine. I can handle it from here."

"I am not leaving you in a house full of noblemen. You brought me here for a reason, same reason you brought Ruckus with you on that raid. You don't want to get ambushed." Queen waited for an answer before he said, "So what do you want to do? That short rich girl isn't my responsibility, you are, and I'm not leaving you here on your own."

Midge stood rigid. "I wouldn't be by myself long. You can take her to Big Henry and come back."

"Sure," Queen wheezed.

A groan in the back of his throat, Midge gave in. "All right. I'll get her to the wall and then come back."

Queen cut them a glance and shook his head. He turned towards the elevator. "Let's go. Do you need to settle anything with Joshua financially?"

Midge ushered Lydia out as he snorted out a laugh.

"I don't give two shits about credits. How about you?" Midge asked Lydia. "Anything you-"

"Not a damn thing. Let's go," Lydia said.

The door at the end of the hall slid back. Joshua hurried to get into his shirt as he called out, "Midge? What is it? Is something wrong with the security?"

Joshua was fully dressed by the time he reached them. "Everything has to go off without a hitch. This is a big night. I've got the best quality, the freshest cranberry juice, too."

Juice? This sick fuck is talking about cranberry juice...? Something about the words piqued Midge's interest, though, and Lydia cursed him. Oh come on.

"I was...I was just about to see my brother out," Midge said, gesturing to his twin in the distance.

"Oh," Joshua said, buttoning the last of his shirt. "Surely you'd stay for a drink?"

Midge squinted. "A drink...?"