Of Metal and Wishes Read Online Free PDF Page A

a sheltered one.”
    I smooth my hand over my skirt, running my fingers over a swirl of vine and thorn. “She didn’t know I would end up here, obviously.”
    He blinks. “Obviously. And yes, I think we can manage it. Just one, though, all right?”
    I nod eagerly, then slip on my heavy apron and help my father with afternoon tasks. I chop and stew a pot of ginger, create a paste of dried peppers and oil, and make sure all my father’s instruments are clean and ready. Hazzi comes in midafternoon with his fingers curled against his chest. As my father helps him onto the examination table, the old man says, “So, Guiren, I believe the Ghost favors our Wen.”
    I expect my father to laugh, because he is a man of science who does not believe in things that cannot be proven. Instead his voice is sharper than usual as he asks, “Why do you say that?”
    As Hazzi tells the story of what happened this morning with the lights, my father listens in silence. I don’t understand it at all, but when Hazzi is finished, my father remains quiet for a few moments and then speaks slowly, as if he is choosing every word: “That is a very interesting story. Perhaps I will speak to someone about fixing the wiring in that hallway.” His eyes meet mine. “Wen, why don’t you go buy your dress now? The company store closes soon.”
    I remove my apron and excuse myself. Though I long to ask more questions, it would be disrespectful to stay now that I’ve been dismissed. I walk to the front of the factory, my soft shoes crunching over a few paper-thin metal shavings along the hallway. Before I exit the administrative hall, the awful shift whistle blows. I tense when I hear the scuff of boots and the throaty sound of the Noor language. They must be starting their shift, which runs late into the night. I edge along the wall and peek around the corner. Sure enough, in they shuffle, rubbing their eyes as if they’ve just awakened. The rust-haired Noor boy is at the front of the procession. He has dark circles under his eyes like the rest, but his shoulders are straight and his movements are anything but lethargic as he steps out of line and begins barking instructions to the others. As the Noor boys and men pass him, he shakes each one by the arm and slaps them on the back, as if he is trying to jolt them into alertness. A few Itanyai workers stride by, and one of them—whom I recognize as Iyzu, a friend of Lati’s and the boy Vie has her eye on—slides his hand over his shoulder in contempt. Rust-Hair locks eyes with him and then turns away as if Iyzu’s opinion of him doesn’t matter at all. This Noor does not know his place, and when I see Iyzu’s sneering expression, I know that will make life at the factory harder for the rust-haired boy.
    I am glad the Ghost doesn’t exist. Maybe the Noor have enough enemies.
    I stay out of sight until Rust-Hair joins his Noor friends on the killing floor and the metal door shuts behind him, then I walk to the squat building off the central square of the compound. The store makes it unnecessary to leave Gochan One, because technically everything we need is here. Out in the Ring, of course, are the things not allowed inside the factory gates. Like alcohol and cigarettes. There are also a bunch of hair salons that turn on a pink light at night, signaling they’re open for another kind of business. The factory gates close promptly at midnight, though, right after the middle shift ends. All the workers live on the compound, and it’s easy to get locked out. The gates don’t open until thirty minutes after the day shift starts, and getting stuck outside is another way to lose pay.
    At the company store they have no use for bronze coins from the Ring; it’s either company coin or credit—which comes straight out of your pay, for your convenience . I show my father’s work pass and my own identification papers, and the steel-and-silver-haired matron at the register waves me toward the garment