Despite the clean sheets and soft pillow, sleep did not come easily that night. Maggie tossed and turned as the dreams taunted her, when she wasn’t staring blankly at the ceiling. Come sunrise, she felt even more exhausted than when she’d gone to bed. With a bone-weary sigh she rose, finding her clothes cleaned and folded sitting at the foot of her cot.

The Azha patients still avoided her like the plague, which was the smartest thing they could have done. She wasn’t in the mood. Joona gave her a friendly wave as she shambled over to the shower, grunting something that might have been a reply. The stall was free as she took a washcloth and gave herself a quick wipe down, before dressing and finding her way to the eating area. Prash was busy preparing something, but the smell…

“...gack...what the hell is that?” she exclaimed, wrinkling her nose.

“It’s for the Azha,” he shrugged, as he scooped the brown hash into bowls. “I barely smell it anymore, but they seem to like it. Let me get them served, and I’ll fix you something.”

“No rush,” she told him. She wasn’t very hungry, truth be told. “Where’s Blye?”

“With the boy,” he told her, setting the bowls on a tray. “She’s been by his side all night.”

“Is he okay?” She flushed a bit, suddenly feeling awkward. “I mean...he seemed fine last night.”

“She’s always like that with the kids,” Prash explained, his face softening. “They’re special to her.”

“Then why…?” she began, before shaking her head, biting off the rest of the question. “...never mind.” She sighed. “Guess I’ll get workin’ on that gear.” He nodded at her as he carried the tray out to the ward, while she followed behind. She’d meant to head straight for the storage room, but catching sight of the young Chevalier hovering over the runt gave her pause. Before she realized what she was doing Maggie found herself at the kid’s cot.

Blye looked up and managed a nod. “Good morning,” she said. “Sleep well?”

Maggie shrugged. No point getting into that. “He takin’ a turn or something?”

“No...in fact his vitals have been improving steadily over the last few hours. He’s starting to breathe on his own.” She pressed a damp cloth on his forehead. “We’ll remove the tube soon. I don’t want to sedate him, not until his body is free of the toxin, but if he awakes still intubated…” Blye shook her head. “He may not react well to that…and I don’t wish to restrain him. Poor kid has suffered enough.” She sighed, rubbing at her eyes. “Which means the timing will be crucial.”

“How much time?” she asked.

“It could be hours...or it could be in the next ten minutes,” the medic informed her. “There’s no way to know for certain.” Taking up her minicomp, she pulled up a file. “I’ve been looking over his DNA results. They’re...not as helpful as I’d hoped.”

“He’s not in the system?” Maggie said in surprise. “I thought everybody was.”

“We try, but as scattered as we are we’re always behind,” Blye explained. “Plus, plenty of people avoid submitting their DNA, for various reasons.” The two women shared a look. “I suspect you know why.”

“Yeah...you hear things,” she sighed. “Didn’t even pin down his Clan?”

“Some of his markers seem to come from the Corsairs, but as for the rest?” Blye shrugged. “It’s a place to start. I’ll contact them after I’ve spoken with our young patient here. I’m hoping he can tell me more.”

“Well, good luck with that,” Maggie said at last, “but I got stuff to fix.” Giving the young medic a nod she headed towards the storage room...only to be brought to a crashing halt as she heard her suddenly curse.

“Get back here!” she shouted, and as Maggie turned back she saw the kid thrashing about, trying to escape her clutches. “He’s regained consciousness!”

“...bloody hell,” Maggie swore, doubling back.

“Hold him down!” Blye ordered, “He’s trying to yank out the tube!” She held his wrists, but he was fighting her hard.

There was no time for anything complicated. Maggie flopped on top of the runt, using her own body weight to pin him while she grabbed his arms and shoved them down hard against the cot. He fought and squirmed beneath her, but she held on with grim determination. “Whatever you’re gonna do…do it fast,” she wheezed. “He’s stronger than he looks!”

His eyes were wild...and they took her by surprise. They didn’t match; one was bright blue, the other dark brown. It caught her off guard...when she checked his pupils on the trip in she’d only peeled back the one...and the kid took advantage of it, trying to slither out of her grasp. But Maggie recovered quickly, clamping back down and holding him fast.

Grabbing a hypo, now that her hands were free, Blye jammed it against his neck and dosed him, but given his terror and agitation, it took a minute for him to notice. By then the two orderlies had arrived, holding him on either side as she carefully climbed off.

With his struggling subsided, the Troisième went to work checking for injuries. “Breathing is steady...pulse is regular...blood pressure holding…” she ran through the litany until finally slumping back in her chair. “I think we got lucky,” she said in relief. “Thank you, Maggie. If you hadn’t reacted so quickly…”

“His eyes,” she whispered, still breathing hard, “what the hell is wrong with him?”

“It’s called Heterochromia Iridum, and it’s perfectly harmless,” Blye explained, looking at her curiously. “I thought you knew.”

“His eyes were closed when I found him,” Maggie replied. “Had no idea.” She peered at the kid once more. “You sure it’s safe?”

“It was well documented even before the Diaspora,” she told her. “In very rare cases it can mean something more serious...but for him, it only means they’re different colors. Unusual...but nothing to fear.”

“You think maybe that’s why they abandoned him?” Maggie mused. “Cause they thought he was a Mutie?”

“God, I hope not,” the medic sighed. “Except for being malnourished, some old injuries…and being poisoned...he’s perfectly healthy.” She shook her head. “But then, people can be ignorant.”

“So...you sure he’s okay?” It was hard to believe a skinny runt like that put up such a fight.

“I won’t know for certain until I can get the tube out and run a scope down his trachea to check for injuries, but at the moment...I’m cautiously optimistic.” She turned to the orderlies. “Grab the restraints. I don’t want a repeat of that again.”

“I’ll get them,” Prash told her, hurrying off.

“With any luck, we’ll be done with everything before he wakes up,” Blye explained, taking a moment while she waited for the Sixièmes return.

“Well...I’ll be in the supply room if you need me,” Maggie said at last, shaking her head as she retreated to her work.

Hell of a way to start a morning.

Maggie had been at it for several hours, taking only a couple of quick breaks, when she heard another commotion coming from the ward. She hadn’t noticed it at first; between her focus on the task at hand and the fact she was off the main floor she’d tuned it out...until the source of the pandemonium crashed through the doorway and landed on her lap. “Woah!” she exclaimed, tossing the tools in her hands aside as the runt rebounded off her, with Blye and the orderlies in hot pursuit, skidding to a halt and fanning out as they cornered him.

“Goddamnit!” she snapped, glaring at the other three. “Is every day like this for you?” Maggie demanded, before turning her attention to the kid. “I thought you were gonna restrain him.”

“He outfoxed us,” Joona panted. “He panicked when he realized he was restrained, but then it looked like he calmed down. We thought he was listening to us when we said he was safe, so we took them off, but…” The orderly shrugged in embarrassment.

“Smart kid,” she said in grudging approval. They’d scared him, that much was obvious, and as those mismatched eyes of his darted around, he spotted something that suddenly had his full attention. Too late the Tinker realized what it was, as he lunged for a Torx driver, snatching it away and clutching it like a knife to fend them off. The kid had nowhere to go, wedged into a corner...but he wasn’t giving up without a fight. He growled at them, showing his teeth.

“...don’t suppose you got a Tranq gun,” she murmured, not making any sudden moves.

“No,” Blye shook her head. “Joona, you go left, Prash, you take the right. On the count of three…”

“Are you crazy?” Maggie hissed. “You try to grab him now someone gets stabbed...and it’ll probably be me.” She thought for a second. “Back off...give us some room,” she told them, as she fished around in her pocket.

“What are you thinking?” the Knight asked.

“That there’s a smarter way to do this,” she answered, pulling the Soya bar from her shirt. She held it out in front of her, peeling back the foil...and held it out to him. “Here, I’ll trade you,” she smiled. “Food for the tool.”

His eyes narrowed as he looked at the bar, before licking his lips. Oh, he wanted it, all right...he was likely half-starved...but he didn’t trust her one bit. Well, she didn’t blame him. Bringing the food bar to her mouth she bit off a small chunk, rubbing her stomach in pleasure. “Mmmmm….” she hummed, as she saw his resolve weaken.

…there’s a reason why they bait traps with food.

The kid took a tentative half step forward, his eyes fixed on the Soya bar. She held it out to him, smiling, while she extended the other arm, and gestured to give her the tool. He growled again, not liking disarming himself one bit, holding it close to his chest. But the bar she held still had his full attention, as she waved it under her nose and inhaled. “Smells pretty good kid,” Maggie told him, “you sure you don’t want to trade?”

He took another step, still wary. “Hey, I won’t hurt ya,” she smiled once again, “and I won’t let them hurt you either.” She heard Blye start to protest and shot her a look. “I’m negotiating here,” she snapped. “Ya mind?”

The kid saw his chance, and he took it. He darted in and grabbed the Soya bar, retreating once more...still clutching the driver as he began devouring his stolen prize.

“So much for that idea,” Prash grumbled.

Despite herself, Maggie chuckled. “Sneaky little shit, ain’t ya?” she grinned. “Go get some more food,” she said over her shoulder.

“So he can fool you again?” Blye asked dubiously.

“There’s always some give and take when you’re workin’ out a deal,” she explained, “and the first round went to him. But if he wants anything else, he’s gotta give. So scoot. Do as I tell you.”

Relenting, the Troisième gave Joona a nod, who hurried out the door. “Now what?”

“We wait,” she answered, sitting back on her haunches. “We have nothing he wants right this second...except letting him escape, and I’m guessin’ that’s a hard ‘no’.”

“He won’t survive if he goes back to the streets,” Blye said in dismay.

“Kid’s lasted this long,” Maggie pointed out, “but yeah...long term, it ain’t a good strategy.” The boy followed the conversation with interest but didn’t seem sure about the topic. “So while we’re waiting…” She smiled once more, placing a hand on her chest. “I’m Maggie. What’s your name?”

His brow furrowed. “Come on, I told you my name,” she goaded him. “And that’s Blye, and Prash...and the one getting us more food is Joona. So what’s yours? Only seems fair we know your name, now you know ours.”

He looked at them in confusion, as the hand brandishing the tool drooped a bit. His mouth moved, struggling with unfamiliar activity until finally, he mumbled something.

“Sorry, what was that?” she asked, putting a hand to her ear. “I’m old, kid, gettin’ up there, and I don’t hear so good. Could you say it again?”

He took a deep breath, trying once more. “...Diggs,” he said with a rasp, as if he hadn’t spoken in a very long time.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Diggs,” Maggie beamed at him, as Joona returned with a handful of Soya bars and a glass. “Just in time. Joona, meet Diggs.”

“Hi, Diggs,” he grinned, holding out the provisions he’d brought. “Thought he might be thirsty too, so I got some water.” He looked over at Blye, “Dumped in some electrolytes and minerals while I was at it. Kid’s gonna need it.”

“We have to be careful...as malnourished as he is he’s in real danger of Refeeding Syndrome,” the medic explained.

“Good thinking,” she nodded in approval, reaching for the glass, and taking another bar before turning back towards Diggs. “Uh oh,” she said, half to herself, “I was gonna give these to you, but you’d need both hands. Hmm...what if I give you the glass, and then you give me the tool, and then you get the food as a bonus? I’d be giving you two things, and you’d only have to give me one. How about that?”

His brow furrowed once more as he puzzled out her suggestion. He was certain there had to be a catch somewhere, but was having a hard time finding it. While he mulled over her offer, Maggie scooted a little closer, holding out the cup. “Here, you look thirsty.” She took a sip herself, showing it was safe. “It’s yours if you want it.”

Diggs was still hesitant, so she set it on the floor in front of him, before giving him some room. He spent a few moments eyeing the mug, looking for traps...before crouching down and lifting it to his lips, slurping loudly as he drank. Water dribbled down his chin and chest as he quenched his thirst before finally swiping his arm across his face as he looked at Maggie expectantly.

She held out the Soya bar. “I kept my part of the deal, didn’t I?” the Tinker asked. “So how about we finish it? Straight swap...the tool for the food.” Once again she held out both hands; the empty one palm up, while dangling the bar with the other like a lure. “Come on...I know you want it…” she cooed enticingly.

The Soya had his full attention, and with a reluctant sigh he handed over the Torx driver, snatching the food bar away before she changed her mind. Grinning at her success, she passed the tool back to the others while Diggs chowed down on his meal.

“And that’s a Contract,” she informed him, spitting into her hand and holding it out. “Shake on it?”

He looked at her in confusion. “It’s how you seal a deal...like this,” Maggie explained, spitting into her hand again and extending it out to him.

With a baffled expression, he spit on his own hand...more a spray of crumbs than anything else...and timidly held it out to her. Blye put her hand to her mouth, her eyes wide, afraid to make a sound for fear she’d jinx the progress the Tinker had made, as Maggie gently clasped his palm with her own.

“Good to meet you, kid,” she smirked.