Toxic Treacle by Echo Freer

on this because you asked me to. I’ll back off if that’s what you want?’
    Monkey pondered her response; she’d sounded genuine and her eyes hadn’t flickered when she’d spoken. He sighed. ‘I think whatever Tragic’s got into, he’s in too deep,’ he said simply. ‘There’s Security and The Assembly - they’re all involved. And I think Criminal Justice might have some interest, too. This is big league. And...’ he paused. ‘Your nurturer is a solicitor. We need to be careful: she’s establishment.’
    â€˜Listen, Monkey...’ There was something about the way she used his tag; he loved it. ‘...Sal’s...’ she paused, choosing her words carefully, ‘...well, let’s just say that not all nurturers are pro-Assembly. Sal doesn’t like this regime any more than the providers do...’
    â€˜Whoa!’ Monkey had been lying back in bed but he sat up abruptly. ‘What d’you mean regime ? And what are you going on about; any more than the providers do ? Is Sal a provider? I don’t think so! How does she know what they like and don’t like?’
    He didn’t know why he’d reacted so fiercely, but there was something about the way she’d had a sly dig at the system that had annoyed him. He noticed her expression on his ring-cam as she blinked, clearly nonplussed by his response.
    â€˜Meet me by the loco bridge in an hour,’ she said. ‘We need to talk.’
    Five minutes later, she rang back. ‘Come disguised as a nurturer - and bring Vivian’s bike.’ Then she added with a nervous laugh, ‘And don’t forget to shave your legs.’
    ***
    This had better not be a fit-up, Monkey railed inwardly as he pedalled towards the bridge on his nurturer’s bike. He was doing his best to emulate the sedate cycling style of a female more than twice his age. The wind whipped up the plaid skirt that he’d sneaked out of his nurturer’s wardrobe while she and Penny were in town and Grand-mov was dozing in her chair. He pushed it down again with one hand to try and protect his knees - and other parts - and swore under his breath: shiltz - it was cold! And the stupidly thin hose that nurturers wore did nothing to protect his privates! A fine drizzle penetrated the cardigan he’d pulled over the top of his T-shirt and flattened the silky strands of Penny’s dressing-up wig to his face. He was just grateful that it was a Saturday and most people would be in the municipal leisure centre or just cruising the streets round The Plaza. He prayed that none of the hood was lingering on home turf and caught sight of him.
    When he arrived, she was already waiting. A wide grin spread across her face as she eyed him up and down. ‘Good job breeders can’t say no,’ she teased.
    â€˜Lose it!’ he snapped, embarrassed. ‘This had better be worth it.’
    â€˜Come on.’ She got onto her own bike and indicated for him to follow her. ‘We’ll talk as we ride.’
    â€˜Where are we going?’
    â€˜Combe Magna.’
    Monkey stopped. ‘No way! In broad daylight? Are you insane?’
    Angel eyed him and sighed. ‘We are two nurturers out for a cycle. Who’s going to question us?’ She grinned again. ‘Although Security might be interested in that hair - it is criminally bad.’
    Monkey feigned laughter; then his face set. ‘I’m serious, Angel; this is ranged.’
    â€˜What was it that the old mov said - “Jane just up and left with her sister”?’
    â€˜And?’
    â€˜Only, you said that there is no sister.’
    â€˜Your point?’
    â€˜Haven’t you worked out who it was yet?
    Monkey narrowed his eyes. ‘You’re not going to tell me it was Tragic?’
    Angel shrugged. ‘That would be my guess, but we can ask him ourselves later. Come on.’ And, once more, she set