‘Aight, now lissen up, an’ lissen good, Mac! I’mma make it real easy for you, see? Hand over whatcha got and if it makes us smile, mebbe we let you walk. Mebbe.’

Albert felt in his shirt pocket for his money. Locating it, he pulled it out and cursed. Eighteen credits. Just about enough to cover a snack from one of the vending machines at the pod station. It certainly wouldn’t be enough to make these delinquents ‘smile’.

‘That’s all I have,’ he said, holding the tokens up for them to see.

The boy in the oversized cap squinted at him.

‘What’s, then?’

‘Eighteen credits.’

‘Credits?’ said the boy disgustedly. ‘What we gonna do with that? We want food, Mac! What you got to eat, then?’

Reflexively, Albert patted his pockets, feeling a weight sinking down inside him, like his internal organs had suddenly decided to migrate southwards. He knew he didn’t have any rations on him. And he knew what would happen when he told them.

‘I don’t have—’

The rest of his sentence was lost in the orchestra of whoops and shrieks that greeted his statement. He swallowed, waiting for them to die down before he tried again. ‘Please, just listen to me for a moment. Just—’

‘Don’ wanna hear nothin’ from you, OK?’ shouted the same boy. He seemed to be the only one of them talking, maybe because none of the others knew how to.

‘Just give us whatcha got, Mac! Everythin’! Or we gonna take it!’

Almost in unison, the pack shifted towards Albert. As if this was the signal they’d been waiting for.

‘Wait! Wait! Take it easy! There’s no need—’

Murmurs ran through the pack. So they did know how to talk, after all. Albert decided he’d preferred them when they couldn’t.

‘Need, ’e says! Friggin’ Domechild talkin’ bout need!’

‘Feel some pain’s what ’e needs!’

‘I’m gonna off him! Theo, can I off him?’

‘Shaddup!’

Again it was the kid in the oversized cap—the one they were calling Theo, unquestionably the leader—who spoke. ‘Nobody’s gonna off nobody! Mac here just about to give us what we came for, ain’t you, Mac?’

‘What do you want me to give you? I don’t have—’

‘Don’ lie to us! Think we don’ know you spotted Felix and came in ’ere? Think you the first guy came this way? Domechildren! Yer make me sick, you do, thinkin’ yer better’n us an’ all, with yer prissy ways an’ yer fake smell an’ yer fake air an’ yer fake lives when yer actually all filthier from the inside than we are from—shut up, Felix!’