Chapter Seven
The hum of the factory seemed to vibrate in my head as I patted the rack of syringes flat and sent them to the packaging machine. The combination of sleep deprivation and having my head smashed into a wall was enough to make me want to curl up in a corner and sleep until the end of my shift.
But the kep had beaten the fire back. The smoke had cleared from the city. And if I wanted my damn ration and credits, there was nothing for me to do but grit my teeth against the throbbing in my head and try to distract myself until my shift ended.
I spent most of the morning studying the bolts in the machine, wondering how quickly I could take the whole thing apart. After I devoured some mush for lunch, I worked out how rich I would be if I could steal every syringe in the place for
