True to Al’s word, the Chelsea gang let Ron roam through their warehouses and take anything he wanted. But when Ron couldn’t find things he needed there, he had to go up to the market area and search for them. If he could find what he wanted, he had to pay cash for it.

Dino didn’t like that at all. “He’s spendin’ money we need for food!” he complained.

Al snapped back, “We get th’ money back from th’ gang Ron buys the stuff for.”

Dino shook his head and muttered something.

“We gotta work t’gether with the other gangs, an’ stop fightin’ among outselves,” Al repeated to the gang council. The kids sat on the gravel of the rooftop in the evening darkness. They didn’t say much, and it was too dark to see their faces and figure out if they really agreed with Al or not.

Doggedly, Al went on trying to convince them. “Those Muslims uptown are organized. We gotta be jes’ as strong as they are or they’ll come down here and pick us off, one gang at a time.”

“Bullshit,” somebody said in the darkness. It sounded to Ron like Dino.

“That’s the way we’re gonna do things,” Al said firmly, “as long as I’m runnin’ this gang.”

The meeting broke up soon after, and the guys started filing down the stairs to their rooms for the night. Ron went up to Al.

“Maybe I shouldn’t buy things at the market. Maybe I should just tell the other gangs that if we can’t find what we need in the warehouses—”

“No,” Al said sharply. “Long as we’re not really takin’ money we need for food, why should we stop?”

“Well, Dino—”

“Dino can go suck his thumb.”

Ron said, “He’s going to make trouble for you.”

“I know,” Al answered quietly. With a shake of his head, he said, “Someday I’ll hafta stop him. Before he stops me.”

Then he walked past Ron and went to the stairs, leaving Ron standing there alone on the roof, wishing very much that he could be somewhere else, somewhere where he could see the stars and not be so close to death.

Al started letting Ron go to the market area alone, or with no one accompanying him except Davey. Dino protested, of course, and claimed that Ron would run away and hide. But Al overruled him.

Ron liked the market area. It was a connection with the world Outside, the safe, sane world of the Tracts and his parents and friends and the Exams and peace and plenty. The world that supplies this black market and lets the kids stay in here and die, he reminded himself.

The market area was busy and noisy, almost like the City during the summer tourist season, except that there were no cars or buses in the streets. And the people roaming the sidewalks were mostly kids, dressed in rags.

The adults who ran the sidewalk stands were dressed much better. Standing behind their makeshift wooden tables, heaped high with goods for sale, the adults looked well fed, even overweight. They were clean and healthy. Their eyes were clear and alert. They went home to Tracts outside the Dome every night and watched their own children growing fat and clean and healthy.