The Factory Trilogy 01 - Gleam by Tom Fletcher Page A

night.’
    ‘Go on then. And hey, Pighead, you got any teeth? Old Green’s Teeth?’
    Pighead frowned. ‘A couple. Didn’t think you were the sort. What, you want ’em?’
    ‘Yeah.’
    ‘You know teeth?’
    ‘Yeah, I know teeth.’
    ‘Why do you want teeth, Alan?’ Churr asked.
    ‘Because they’re strong. I want out of my skull, Churr.’
    ‘But it’s such a pretty skull.’
    ‘The outside of it is okay, I grant you. But inside it’s a right mess.’
    ‘Well, you want to get fucked up tonight, that’s up to you. But in the longer term – what you’re saying is, we need to get our own supply.’
    ‘I hadn’t thought that far ahead. But yes, I suppose that is the logical conclusion. And what’s this
we
?
Our
? I don’t know about that. We’ve only just met.’
    ‘Maybe Daunt and I have our own history.’
    Alan squinted at Churr through the haze. ‘Wait. You want to go up against Daunt?’
    ‘That’s what it would take, right? That’s what we’re talking about?’
    Alan shifted uneasily in his seat. ‘That’s what
you’re
talking about,’ he said. ‘This conversation’s kind of getting ahead of me.’
    ‘But Daunt
was
your usual supplier.’
    ‘Kind of. I couldn’t afford to buy what I needed, so …’ Alan trailed off.
    ‘You
stole
? From
Daunt
?’ Churr tipped her head backand laughed, more loudly than she had all night. ‘Oh, Alan. You poor little thing.’
    The night was reshaping itself around him and he hadn’t even taken anything yet. ‘Daunt and me go way back. We’re good friends.’
    ‘Let me clarify things for you.’ Churr took Alan’s chin in her hand and looked into his eyes. ‘You’re not Daunt’s good friend. You’re wrong. You don’t know her at all. You’re an idiot. You don’t mess with Daunt. You’re fucked. Okay?’
    ‘Okay,’ Alan mumbled.
    ‘You need lots of potent mushrooms for your friend at the Pyramid. You’ve burned your bridges with the only real supplier in town. Are you rich?’
    Alan shook his head.
    ‘You’re not rich. So you can’t just hoover them up from all the Discard’s Pigheads. The only option is to set up our own supply.’
    ‘This
our
again …’
    ‘I’ve got a good eye for an opportunity.’
    ‘I’ve got my own friends, Churr.’
    ‘Have you got a Mapmaker? I can get you a Mapmaker.’
    ‘A what? No, of course not. We don’t need a Mapmaker. Do we?’ Alan wrenched his face free of Churr’s grip. ‘What do we need a Mapmaker for?’
    ‘Getting safely to Dok.’
    ‘What?’ Now Alan laughed. ‘Firstly, no way am Itangling with those psycho Mapmakers. Secondly, no way am I going anywhere near Dok. I’m happy in most stinking hellholes, but even I draw the line at Dok. Thirdly – yeah, I stole from Daunt, and maybe that was foolish, but surely setting myself up as her rival would be drawing her attention in a much more obvious and confrontational manner. And you – I like you a lot, and I know you can handle yourself out here in the Discard, but I don’t want you putting yourself in all of this danger for my sake.’
    ‘It would be for my own sake.’
    Alan stood up. ‘Maybe so. But …’ He trailed off.
    ‘But what?’
    ‘I’d feel bad.’
    ‘I could make you feel good again.’
    Alan sat back down. ‘It’s like you know me really well,’ he said.
    ‘You’re quite a simple character.’
    ‘Is that so?’
    Pighead interrupted, bearing a tray laden with teapots and small cups. ‘Mushroom teas,’ he said, putting the tray down. ‘Dream-meat in this ’un, and Old Green’s Teeth in that ’un.’ He eyed Alan warily. ‘Good luck,’ he said, and then returned to the bar.
    ‘The point is,’ Churr said, ‘you may have your own friends, you may not want me to get hurt, etc., but this is my plan. My idea. My potential profit.’
    ‘Then why aren’t you doing it anyway?’
    ‘Maybe I will.’ Churr smiled as she poured herself a cup of tea. ‘The question is, are we colleagues, or