• • •

Jimmy sat at a table in the Stag and Hare, eating a handful of chicken wings and nursing a beer as he eavesdropped on the men in a nearby booth.

“Price of everything is going up,” one man complained. “The only thing staying the same is the paycheck.”

“Price is going up, and the quantity is going down,” his companion said. He lifted half his sandwich, then dropped it on the plate, looking disgusted. “I bought this same lunch special last week, and the sandwich had twice the meat as this one.”

“Know what you mean. I went to the Saucy Plate yesterday. Piece of lasagna smaller than my hand, a few greens and a slice of tomato as the salad, one roll, and one fucking pat of butter. One. Charged me ten dollars. And a second roll with butter is now an extra item.”

“Mayor says he’s working with the governor to keep the lines of transportation open within the Northeast.”

“We need the lines open to the rest of the regions. That’s what we need.”

“They’re open for those who have the money to grease the right palms. Bet the mayor and the governor aren’t feeding their kids watery soup made out of cheap cuts of meat.”

“Bet the fucking Others aren’t going hungry either.”

A moment of uneasy silence. Then the men focused on their meals.

Jimmy looked at the chicken bones on his plate. Didn’t even begin to fill the hole in his belly. And one beer didn’t relax him the way mellow weed did—if he could find a source here in Lakeside. The freaks might growl about anyone enjoying a bit of weed on their property, but CJ wouldn’t let the freaks toss him out for a bit of weed, not when it meant tossing Sandee and the kids out too. With Mama looking on, Lieutenant Crispin James Montgomery would smooth things over, and the brats knew how to play sentimental suckers like Mama and their uncle CJ.

Finding a source of weed would have to wait. Right now, he needed to scout around the Courtyard a little bit and see if he could turn men bitching about food into a business opportunity. Dropping enough money on the table to cover the bill, Jimmy headed for the door.

As he walked out of the Stag and Hare, he realized the blond-haired man who had been sitting at the bar, also nursing a beer, had been watching him in the mirror behind the bar the whole time.

• • •

The meeting at the mayor’s office included Acting Mayor Walter Chen, Police Commissioner Raymond Alvarez, and ITF Agent Greg O’Sullivan, as well as Monty and Captain Burke.

“I received a phone call from Governor Hannigan this morning,” Chen said. “Based on the news reports, it sounds like we have some serious shortages of certain foods, and Commissioner Alvarez tells me the increase in break-ins that target butcher shops and small neighborhood grocery stores seems to reflect that. But it’s my opinion, and the governor agrees, that the terra indigene have not curtailed the transport of food to such a degree that food cannot be purchased. Could shops be attempting to create ‘luxury items’ as a way to increase prices? Your thoughts?”

Everyone looked at O’Sullivan, then at Burke, but it was Alvarez who answered. “I sent men to every human farm that supplies food to Lakeside to find out the status of the family and the farm. The savagery of the storms that slammed into the city didn’t last much beyond the city limits, so the farms dealt with minor damage to crops and buildings, but no loss of life among the people or livestock. The cluster of stores that supply the farms reported running low on things like sugar and coffee, and they’re hoping to get resupplied before they run out, but it’s pretty much business as usual for them. Same with the farmers. They’re still bringing meat, dairy, eggs, and produce to market.”

“My impression is animals from the Midwest Region are slower to arrive at cities like Shikago, whose meatpacking plants supply much of the meat for the Northeast Region,” Burke said. “Grain is also arriving in smaller quantities, but those things are crossing regional boundaries. Same with the foods grown in the Southeast Region. The farmers may not be exporting as much out of their region because they’re being encouraged to sell within their region first.”

“One difference in supply and demand may be the number of people who have temporarily swelled the population of Lakeside and other human-controlled cities in the Northeast,” O’Sullivan said. “A lot of people fled from Toland before and after the storm. Some went back to their homes, either permanently or to salvage what they could. Many are looking to find work and settle someplace else. Problem is, there are significantly fewer human-controlled places than there were a month ago. There are two college towns in the Finger Lakes area. Around them are small towns, farms, vineyards and wineries, and wild country. All those places, including the college towns, are semi-isolated now—even more so than they used to be. People can come and go, and goods are delivered to stores. The phones don’t always work beyond the local area—and phone lines that would connect the Finger Lakes area with Toland are brought down with such regularity, the phone company has stopped trying to repair them. But people who have skills that would benefit one of those small towns, or can work at the colleges, would be able to relocate there.” He smiled tightly. “I don’t think there are many people who have tried to resettle in an area controlled by the terra indigene—especially people who aren’t used to such sharp scrutiny.”

“What about the Others in the Courtyard?” Chen asked. “Are they experiencing shortages?”