Callie was glad she bought the suit. She could have gotten away with one of her semi-formal robes talking with the Octarian Ambassador, but for this meeting her magenta and black-striped business suit was probably the minimum of what she should be wearing.

Callie sat at one end of a long table, at the left side of a somewhat anxious Minister Madrelle. The reason for her anxiety sat at the other end of the table.

Kirtchen Spiraltail, ambassador for the Coeno Consortium, and the broader Grand Consortium Coalition, was of average height for biped crabs, his two claw arms resting atop the table with the rest of his arms curled underneath, out of sight. His yellow-brown body was slim and fitted into a red suit. His carapace was unblemished and his shell had been polished to perfection. His eyestalks were mostly focused on Minister Madrelle, but they occasionally glanced at Callie with a frosty glare, the black pupils shrinking to little more than pinpricks whenever their eyes met.

Behind the ambassador were a pair of brawny, coconut crab bodyguards, even bigger than the one she'd killed in Xapheerell Ward. The two of them watched her only sparingly, more concerned with the two Calachoran Enforcers along the wall behind the minister, their orange and black uniforms standing out against the green and blue wall. Three stood behind Callie and seemed to be making a point not to lock eyes with anyone else in the room.

"So what I'm getting at, Ambassador," Madrelle finished, "Is that I don't understand why you are coming through my ministry regarding this issue instead of all the other ministries that would be better able to deal with your grievances."

Spiraltail made a shrugging gesture with his claws and made a chittering noise with his mandibles before he spoke. "The diplomatic office has been uncooperative and I cannot fathom why a clear and unnecessary murder is so casually permitted in this nation you all insist is civilized."

A lie, Callie knew. No ambassador to Calachora would be so ignorant of inkling culture that he wouldn't understand the leeway one was given in the protection of the young, especially with how few children were being hatched as it was. If it was to ensure the safety of those under her charge, an inkling – especially a female inkling, could do whatever was necessary, because it was such a powerful instinct that it was pretty much impossible to resist anyway.

"We are a civilized nation, Ambassador, but please try to understand that we are, culturally, very different, and while the circumstances and justification for the unfortunate death would be unthinkable in any of the consortiums, it's been a part of our culture for over two-thousand years. Children are sacred and they are to be defended."

"What I understand, Minister, is that a race too decadent to even reproduce enough to save itself from extinction is trying to enforce values onto someone else, values that are so archaic and primitive, and barbaric that the other civilized nations of the world have long since abandoned them. Killing is for wartime, not peace."

Well you've certainly had plenty of practice at the former, Callie thought bitterly. The crab nations fought amongst each other constantly. It was hoped that, over time, their Grand Coalition would inevitably break apart from infighting, but it had yet to happen, and some feared it would be too long for Bellchora.

"It seems we have a misunderstanding regarding what constitutes a state of war then, Ambassador. I remind you that while the children attacked first, they were threatened physically and verbally prior to that. They were afraid. I think their reaction was reasonable under the circumstances."

"I'm not talking about the children's reaction, I'm talking about hers." Spiraltail pointed an angry claw at Callie. "Why don't we let the guilty one speak for herself at last."

Madrelle tensed visibly, frustration showing underneath her mantle and Callie had to give her praise for keeping her tuk'yan under such good control. With some reluctance, she looked over at Callie, with a somewhat pleading look, her mantle turning a gentle green with spots of blue.

'Take it easy' she was saying, but they both knew that Callie was in the midst of yun'brennen, so not in her best state of mind, and Callie was more than a little annoyed with the whole idiotic situation to boot. Someone in the Assembly had to be responsible for this, hoping something Callie said would give them something with which to sink her. Madrelle wasn't the least bit afraid of the ambassador, of course, only that Callie's condition might cause her to snap and kill him.

"I already gave a public statement, Ambassador," she said. "I have nothing to add to it."

"Nothing about your prejudice towards our people?"

"I have no particular prejudice towards crabs. I've met many I liked. I would have acted the same regardless of what species they were. I wish it hadn't been necessary, but I'm not exactly a career soldier, so aggression was pretty much my only weapon. I hope you can understand that."

Spiraltail let out a small hiss and clicked his mandibles. "What I understand, girl, is that you killed a citizen of the Coeno Consortium in an unnecessarily brutal and cruel way. You even ate him as you did it."

I was hungry, Callie nearly said, but managed to still her tongue enough for that. "It certainly made the other crabs there, who outnumbered us, run away pretty fast, saving further bloodshed on either side."

The ambassador scoffed. "You just said you are no soldier. How would you know something like that?"

"It's common sense, isn't it? If they leave, I won't have to fight them either. Otherwise I may have been forced to kill more of them before they overwhelmed the children."

He clicked several times before speaking. "And you think you could have killed them all?"

"I would certainly have tried if it meant protecting the children."

"You think their lives of a few inklings are worth more than the greater number of crabs?"

"Watch yourself, Ambassador," Madrelle interrupted sharply, "that is not what she is saying and what you would be implicating is that you would have preferred the death of all those children over the death of a single hooligan."

"The life of a hooligan is still a life!" The ambassador shouted, slamming a claw down on the table, making the two enforcers jump. "He had friends, family, a future. Nobody had any right to take that from him."

"But he had the right to take it from a group of children?" Callie asked, her calm cutting through the heating conversation. The minister and ambassador both looked at her and then settled back down.

"Fine then," Spiraltail clicked angrily. "I will get to the point. That point being that the government seems to be very eager to simply sweep the whole incident under the rug, to cover it up."

Madrelle's mantle scarcely flashed at that. "A misunderstanding, Ambassador. We simply consider the matter over and done with."

"With no care about how we feel about it, hm? What about his family and associates? Don't think we haven't noticed how you're suppressing news about the event."

"Again, we aren't-."

"Oh no, Minister, you very much are." Spiraltail clicked his mandibles in a way that sounded like a mechanical chuckle. "Because they're suppressing news and discussion of the event for or against Callie. They're trying to make people forget the entire incident. Why would that be?"

Madrelle frowned, her guard was back up and her mantle carefully kept at it's natural yellow. "Even if that were the case, I have no idea what reason we could possibly have."

"Perhaps, to help people forget that one of their precious celebrities isn't the paragon of perfection she tries to make herself out to be." He looked at Callie with mocking eye stalks. "That she is a killer, a murderer. Or, if not to your people, to the rest of the world. I can imagine she's lost a lot of fans and prestige lately."

"Hardly a motivation for the government to get so involved," Callie said. "Plenty of people have tried and are trying to ruin our image every day."

"And to hide the awful truth that your nation is weak."

Madrelle flinched visibly while Callie only looked curious. He went on.

"There are virtually no inklings in that part of the city. They've all left that part of the city because there weren't enough to occupy the whole ward. The other large demographic there are the jellyfish, and I imagine they won't want to be in a part of the city with no inklings to protect them." He clicked, amused the way a bully might when someone fell for a trap they made. "Almost like a prelude of things to come."

Callie clenched her jaw. So that was his game. They were threatening to expose just how vulnerable Calichora was in its own capital city, and thus couldn't possibly protect Bellchora, making their years of diplomatic effort trying to help the vassalation proposal go up in smoke, nothing but hot air. And he'd be correct, curse it. Maybe the government really had been trying to sweep the incident away.

"What is it you want, Ambassador," Madrelle asked?

"Her," he gestured to Callie. "For trial back in our home. If she is acquitted, then it will all be forgotten, if not, she will serve out what punishment we decide. In either case, we might be willing to overlook the incident and consider you, at least for now, a civilized nation."

He stood and his bodyguards stepped back. "I'm sure you will have to deliberate it in some committee, so I will leave you to it, but do not wait too long, Minister. Even our graciousness has its limits."

The ambassador made no gesture of good-bye, he simply left the room, followed by his two hulking bodyguards.

Madrelle sighed and slumped in her seat. "I'm sorry, Callie. This wasn't my idea."

"I know, but at least we know their intentions. The question is how is the cabinet going to react?"

"They'll stall as much as possible, hoping they can come up with something or something will happen to help turn the situation around, but the way things have been going, I wouldn't count on it."

"Let's leave what we think is possible aside for now. Ideally, what would happen? Aside from the crabs becoming reasonable."

Madrelle managed a small smirk then rubbed her forehead. "I suppose, ideally, we'd take back Xapheerell Ward, but that's always been an issue for the city, not the federal government, until now. It's not like we can force out all the crabs. Not all of them are from the gangs."

"Then getting rid of the gangs would help? It would show that we are more than capable of enforcing our will in our own territory and I'm sure the immigrant crabs and jellies would feel better too."

Madrelle pulsed brown. "I suppose I'll have to bring it up with the National Security Chief." She patted Callie's hand. "Thanks for your time. I'm sure you have other things you'd rather be doing. And try not to worry, we're not so desperate that we have to give in to such a petty demand."

"They're trying to create conflict," Callie said, grabbing her purse. "Create some kind of justification for actions they plan on taking in the future, no matter how flimsy. Not something I have to tell you, of course, but just so you know that I understand."

Madrelle flashed green and bid her farewell. Callie left briskly, fishing through her purse for her phone. Once she reached the car, she'd have to call Marie and hope she had a plan.

"You kids be careful now," the bus driver said. "This is a bit of a rough neighbourhood."

"We'll be okay. Thanks anyway." Four hopped off the bus and stretched her arms out. The smell of fish was in the air and the crying of gulls was prevalent as well. A large flock of them pecked at the ground around an old fountain that looked like it hadn't "fountained" in years.

At least there were inklings around, all various ages hanging out in small groups around stairways, alleys and in front of shops. All of them subtly eyed the newcomers with suspicion.

"Did we have to come here? This place is dangerous."

Four turned around to look at her two companions. Tephilla looked around fearfully, as if fearing crabs would emerge from below the sidewalk.

"Only looks like 'cause yur' not up to read'n the atmosphere," Miazama said, looking plenty comfortable where she was, even a little pleased. "Not the first place I wanted tah visit though."

"Why's that?" Four asked. She was beginning to understand her better now.

"Not where my shoal's turf was. Close but not right 'ere. Been 'ere lots, but not always a nice time."

"Then you won't be disappointed, 'cause I expect this to be anything but pleasant."

They shared a sardonic smile while Tephilla could only stare at them with incredulity.

Four could see that she was no longer the spoiled, funnel sucker she had been before. Actually, thinking back, she had been a lot like Dana in many ways. Maybe that was why she had overlooked her faults so easily at first, she had been blind to it.

Four still wasn't sure if the events of last week would spawn gratitude or animosity since she hadn't directly saved Tephilla. Divine punishment or not, she would have to keep an eye on her.

"So, where do we go to find the matron?"

"The den," Miazama answered. "If it was'n moved then I know where it be."

"Lead the way then. I'll leave the talking to you, for now."

Having Miazama as a guide was a huge plus. Besides knowing where she was going, she knew all the little local customs and dialects. These more tribal type communities tended to operate differently from the rest of society and they all had their own little traditions. She hadn't dealt with any before but she'd heard about them plenty of times. Not knowing what was fact and fiction, she had to rely on Miazama. It seemed like she had turned a new leaf, or at least had some respect for her now, so she felt like she could rely on her, right up to the point she led them to a deserted old house.

"This is the place?" Four asked, looking at the unkempt grass, peeling paint, and bags of trash strewn about the property. The boards over the front door indicated the house was abandoned.

"I- it should be." Miazama looked genuinely bewildered. "I don' get it. Ol' Gran lived right 'ere."

"Looks like she hasn't lived here for a long time," Tephilla said, pulling up a tall strand of grass. "This has got to be at least a year of no cutting."

Miazama scratched her head, her mantle rippling with distress. "But that's only a bit less than I've been at the orphanage. I don' 'member 'earing that she was movin.' She may not 'ave been my matron but she was the oldest one we 'ad, and talked to the matriarch."

"It's okay," Four said. "Calm down. Maybe we can ask someone around where she's moved to."

"Or she died," Tephilla tentatively suggested.

"She wasn' that old," Miazama snapped. "She was 'hardly over sixty."

"Take it easy," Four said gently, trying to prevent any argument. "We can try asking around and see what we can find out."

Miazama shoved her hands into her coat pockets and flashed green with red spots. "Just call me, Mia. My real name's too 'ard to say."

Four smiled. "Lead the way then, Mia."

Mia led them back to the local plaza. Along the way, Four looked for and noted the position of several small groups of inklings, their general disposition, and the aura they gave off as they watched them closely while they passed.

"Lot of people just hanging out," she whispered to Mia.

"They're keepin' watch. 'Round 'ere, you gotta' always have eyes out to stop trouble comin'."

"You'd think Security would focus on places like this," Tephilla said under her breath. "Especially with those crabs."

"Not enough of 'em, so they let us take care of ourselves, most part, and just send enforcers in once in a bit to take care of the worst when we find 'em. It's how we like it."

"Long as it works, I guess," Four mused.

As they returned to the plaza, she spotted a run down building she'd missed the first time through, three-stories tall with a brick facade and at the crown of a cul-de-sac, amidst similar buildings. She could see at least two groups of inklings in the cul-de-sac, only about the same size as the ones in the square in terms of numbers, but the members of these two appeared more physically impressive on average, and older.

Four wondered if, perhaps, the older ones got the more comfortable positions, away from the front lines where they could be more lax, expecting the other groups to spot something and raise the alarm. They didn't seem particularly vigilant.

The first group Mia approached in the plaza, however, very much were. They were set up on the second-floor patio of a restaurant. They seemed calm and confident as they walked up the stairs, not the least bit threatened, but still giving them wary looks.

One girl, near the entrance of the restaurant's second floor, displayed purple spots on her dark-pink mantle, and Mia steered towards her, the course forcing them to weave between several tables to get to hers.

"What you nibblers be want'n?" The girl asked. She couldn't have been much older than the Squid Sisters.

"Lookin' for Ol' Gran. Went to 'er old place, empty nets."

The girl frowned, her mantle darkening a bit, and there were ripples of a sad blue. "She's not there no more; moved away. She been sick. Not seein' nobody."

Mia frowned. "She's so sick she in't seen' nobody no more?"

"Fam only," the girl replied, a little more tersely. "Messages only. Somebody think it's important, might get it to 'er."

Mia's mantle darkened unhappily and then she looked at Four, looking a little deflated. She'd probably been looking forward to coming home and proving herself to be of worth after the way things had gone with Cricket Squad. It seemed too much had changed in the time she'd been away.

Tani Highwater would have left at that point, try to come up with another plan or maybe find out where the matron was through other resources, but Agent 4 was more persistent and she had a mission to accomplish, and she had to get on it before the trail got cold.

"There was a murder in another part of the city," she spoke up. "Dunno' if you heard but there was an octoling and an inkling killed, most likely a revenge killing for what happened on Friday. Sure you must have heard about that one."

The girl eyed her with narrowed eyes, and mantled all around them darkened.

"We 'eard, but we don' know nuttin' about it."

"I'm not saying you do. We just want help finding the ones who are responsible. Obviously it was crabs, but we don't know which ones or how the crabs operate, or where we can find them. We were hoping the matron would be able to help us."

The girl let out an amused chuckle. "Ya' seriously tryin' tah take on the shells?" She snapped a finger and pointed to someone sitting at one of the other tables. The boy, about sixteen or seventeen, held up his left arm, a stump just above the elbow. "You'd better be ready for a few a' those if you wanna' go messin' with the shells." She gestured to Mia. "She might 'ave a chance since she be from near 'ere, but you two uptown types wouldn' last a second against the shells."

Mia's ears drooped, her lips pulled back in a grimace, knowing fully well how she had done against the crabs and how close she had come to losing more than an arm.

"I'm not here to fight crabs," Four clarified, "I'm just lookin' for information. Also need to talk to the matron about some things that are happening, that's it."

"Already told ya' about the matron. She's not seein' noone." She flashed dismissal. "Get on outta' 'ere on the next bus. You can hide in the temple 'cross the plaza 'till it gets 'ere."

Four frowned. She didn't expect great cooperation from these city tribal types but she had hoped it was better than what she saw in movies.

Tephilla wasn't impressed with her either, and peered out from behind her, glaring at the bigger girl. "Two people died and you have the ability to do something about it! Don't you care?"

The girl glared at her, bearing her beak as her mantle turned a dark shade of red.

"Don't be tryin' to talk from the wheelhouse to me, nibbler. You don' know what it be like to live worried that crabs might be commin' for ya in the night, or that any day a horde of the shells'll come down the street and force us all the way out of the ol' turf." She glared icily at Mia. "We be the only ones with guts enough tah stay and hold our turf, to keep the shoal together."

Mia glared back with upturned eyes, refusing to be cowed but unable to retort. Four thought it a low blow since she was an orphan, but if the people here really were worried about the crabs rolling over them, then Friday's events and the double murder may have just made that possibility even more likely. They were probably expecting an attack any day.

"Doesn't that make it even more important we speak to the matron?" Four asked. "You're worried about the crabs, we're tryin' to do something' about it."

"Yurnahseeiner," the girl snapped, her fast words incoherent to Four. Mia sighed and flashed red, but Four already got the general 'no' from that.

"Get out," the girl said. "Go play turf war in the arenas where it belongs. Don't pretend to understand us."

Four was tempted to tell her right there that they had all been there at the incident on Friday, the ones directly involved, but she resisted. She couldn't see that going anywhere. If anything, it would only give them more reason to be angry at them if they considered that incident responsible for their current tense circumstances. It would certainly explain all the inklings on guard in the neighbourhood. So, reluctantly, she turned away and headed across the street towards the temple, the other two girls in tow.

"She's lying about the matron somehow," Tephilla muttered. "She isn't very good at hiding her emotions."

Four silently cursed herself. She'd been so fixated on the conversation and fact-checking in her own head that she hadn't been paying close attention to the other girl's body language.

"You think she was lying about the matron being sick?"

"Yes. She told it like she was telling a story."

"So what do we do about it?" Mia groused. "We can't come all this way and leave with nothing! I know some of the old hotspots."

"We are not going wandering around in crab territory again!" Tephilla snapped at her. "Didn't you learn your lesson last time?"

Mia glared back, mantle darkening before turning an ugly green in reluctant acceptance of her logic.

Before Four could come to any kind of decision, her phone chimed with a text message from Three telling her to call soonest.

Her heart cycles picked up as she called her, dreading whatever she was about to tell her. She somehow doubted it was good news.

"Three? What's goin' on?" She asked as she heard the phone pick up.

"Trouble. Callie and Marie think that the Consortiums are backing the crab gangs in Xapheerell Ward, using them to keep us busy while they put more pressure on Bellchora."

"Huh? What? Who?"

"Crab countries are called Consortiums, Four, and the Grand Consortium is a coalition of different crab countries."

Her face flushed slightly. "I went to school in the country, okay? Never mind, does that mean they ordered the murder?"

"Doubt it, but they probably aren't happy about people accusing crabs of being responsible for it."

"Then that only gives the people down here even more to worry about. They're worried they'll get overrun any day."

"Then that makes your mission all the more important. It doesn't matter if they're uncooperative, we're talking about the future of Inkopolis here. I know you have what it takes, Four. You've already proven it more than once."

Four nodded, feeling an odd sense of pride and reassurance, but also a greater feeling of unease. Three only got this wordy when she was anxious.

"I'll get it done. Tell Callie and Marie I'm not leaving empty handed."

"I'm sure they'll be glad to hear. Just don't get in over your head. You're not alone, after all."

"I know, but they're being very useful. Don't worry. I'll handle it."

"Good luck then."

"Good luck."

Four hung up and the two girls looked at her with worry and confusion.

"What's going on?" Tephilla asked nervously.

"Trouble. The crabs are upping the ante and we've gotta' step up, which means stepping on other people's tentacles."

Mia grimaced. "They won't like that."

"Don't care," she replied tersely. "This is more important than people's feelings. Come on."

Four had them moving at a brisk pace across the plaza and around the corner into the cul-de-sac.

"Tephy, look behind us at that group we talked to. What are they doing?"

Tephilla glanced over her shoulder and her mantle rippled worriedly. "They're standing up. They're watching us move."

"You think they're 'idin somethin' here?" Mia asked, looking doubtfully at the disheveled buildings around them. "If the matron's really that sick, they wouldn'a put her in one of these places."

"If she really is sick," Tephy pointed out.

"Exactly," Four said. "This cul-de-sac looks nothing special, but they have what looks to be their strongest fighters guarding it, and the leader of the groups watching the plaza has a direct line of sight into it, and the groups guarding here can see her from where they're sitting right now, so they can react to anything happening in the plaza."

"They've seen us," Mia pointed out.

"I know. They'll try to intercept us before we get too close and then try to surround us."

Mia looked at her anxiously. "These ones will 'ave fought a lot of scuffs against the shells. They know how to fight."

"I'm hoping we won't have to fight. I'm gonna' try talking first. You back me up. Tephy, watch and see if any of them go into or near any of the buildings."

Tephy swallowed nervously. "O-okay."

Both groups stood and marched into the midst of the cul-de-sac to intercept them. Four walked right up to them, and, blue inkyar, probably in his early twenties, stepped in front of the rest.

"Help ya' with somethin' kids?"

"We're here to see the matron."

The mantles of everyone around them flashed and then turned a dark red. The inkyar who'd spoken glard past them at the group on the patio then looked back at her.

"I don't know what you were told, but she in't 'ere. She's sick."

"You're lying. I know she's here, and I know she isn't sick." She forced her voice to calm down, before she added. "I just want to talk to her."

She saw a handful of people in the back rows move away. Those would be the ones Tephy would have to watch for. She hoped she saw them.

"She's not here," he repeated, his voice taking on a hard edge as his mantle turned a very dark red.

"You sure you want me to think that?"

Her odd words caused him momentary confusion that showed clearly on his face and mantle, and she went for it, raising her voice and bringing her mantle colour up to a neon red.

"You really want to be responsible for keeping from your matron what she needs to know? I have things to tell her that could save her shoal from being torn apart by shells and driven out of their homes, I'm here to save what she – what you have all worked so hard to keep from falling apart! The double murder the other day is sign of things to come, she's got to know that. If she finds out you tried to stop me from telling her what she needs to know, she'll flatten you herself!"

He reeled from her, taking a step back, surprised by her aggression in spite of her age and being clearly outnumbered. The others behind him were likewise shocked and they began whispering among themselves.

Four whispered to Tephy, "where?"

"Second building to the left. They haven't gone near it but I can tell that's the one they're worried about. They keep glancing and moving their hands towards it. Plus they're all inkyora."

"You plan on getting around them?" Mia asked.

"I'm hoping we won't have to."

The blue inkyar pulsed blue and fixed her with a hard stare, though his aggression had abbed.

"I can give her a message, but that's it."

Four ground her beak with frustration, but maybe she could get the matron's attention, something to really drive home the urgency of the situation and how critical it really was.

"Tell her this then: the Crab Consortiums, that's the crab countries, are backing the local crab gangs and things are about to get worse. Probably much worse." She crossed her arms and waited.

Mantles flashing with alarm, worried looks overcoming everyone's features and the inkyar in front of her took several moments to compose himself.

"I know they're the crab countries. You uptown types might not believe it but we do go to school down here."

Tephy and Mia both snickered and Four had to fight the flush attacking the back of her neck.

"I'll give her your message."

"Good. We'll wait here."

He stared at her for a moment and then narrowed his eyes but said nothing. Instead, he pushed through the crowd and headed to the building Tephy had indicated.

"Nice job," she said to her.

Tephy managed a small flash of green, tension starting to leave her body now that the heated exchange was over.

"You got the guts of a killer whale," Mia breathed. "Sure you aren't from down 'ere somewhere?"

Four laughed. "Nope, just your average country girl. I actually learned that from… well, from my elvi-ro. You saw her. She's Callie's bodyguard."

"I saw her," Mia nodded. "She does that?"

"Sorta. She's able to do it without talkin' so I had to improvise. She wouldn't just walked straight through them and broken the legs of anyone dumb enough to try and stop her."

Mia grimaced and both she and Tephy flashed white. "Better tell Marsh not to pick a fight with her."

Four chuckled. "She's usually good at telling people not to mess with her. One look and Marsh will probably either run away leaking ink or fall hopelessly in love."

Mia let out a bark of laughter. "Yeah, that sounds like 'im." Even Tephy managed a nervous smile. The crowd in front of them just stared and frowned, probably wondering how they could be so calm in this situation.

The inkyar from earlier returned after a few more minutes, his expression conflicted and not at all happy.

"She'll see you, but don't try anything funny."

Four pulsed grey. "And I prepared so many knock-knock jokes."

"She doesn't have a sense of humor," he said tersely. "Just say what you need to and get out."

"We'll see."

"I mean it."

"So do I. Let's get going. She's waiting, right?"

He scowled at her impudence, his mantle turning an ugly red, but led her towards the building.

It was a two-story building, perhaps it had once been a shop with living quarters above. However, instead of going inside the building, they were brought into a small shed in the backyard. Inside was a grate over a narrow pipe built into the back wall, looking nondescript amongst the assorted junk inside.

"Afraid of going underground?" he asked in a slightly mocking tone.

"Nah." And four went through the grate and down the pipe without prompting. She barely heard him splutter in surprise as she traveled down the pipe.

On the other side, she emerged into another dimly lit room, still underground by the feel of it. Sheets dangled from the ceiling, criss-crossed above over a stone floor covered over with old rugs and pillows strewn about.

Mia and Tephy popped out of the pipe, closely followed by their guide, who looked decidedly displeased with them going ahead of him. He ignored them for now and looked directly ahead.

"I brought 'em."

A light at the other end brightened and he motioned them forward, his eyes promising them unpleasant things should they do anything further he didn't like.

Four went in the lead, the other two following in-line behind her. She had to navigate a narrow, winding path amongst the pillows and other assorted odds and ends before she came upon a canopy of sheets, within which she could see a solitary figure.

She came to the entrance, prepared to give her formal greetings, but the individual she saw inside made her stop dead in her tracks.

"Funny," said the voice from within. "I thought you'd be a lot bigger."

"And I thought you'd be older." The words tumbled out of Four's mouth without her even thinking, but though it might perhaps be a bit rude to say such a thing, especially to a matron.

"That's not Ol' Gran," Mia said, her voice a blend of confusion and anger, "that's her granddaughter, Scylla."

Scylla's natural colour appeared to be a molten red, a clear sign of humboldt heritage, and she glared at Mia with her starkly beautiful amethyst eyes.

"Gran's not 'ere right now, in case you been deaf every time someone's been yellin' it down your otoliths. I'm in charge without 'er."

"She's dead."

Four's head snapped to her left at Tephy. Most of the girl's fear appears to be gone, replaced with a firm, almost arrogant assurance that what she had just blurted out was indisputable fact. The way Scylla reacted, the angry expression, the subtle fear, panic, and sorrow rippling through her mantle, it was obvious Tephy had hit the nail on the head. The girl had a knack for knowing what people were hiding. Maybe years of snitching had made her proficient at that.

The young inkyar who'd guided them there angrily moved towards Tephy but Four took a step back to block him. She detected movement among the mess of pillows and sheets, reminding her of all too many times octolings had tried to sneak up and ambush her. She had thought it strange that there was nobody to guard the matron directly, now she understood that the mess of pillows and sheets in the room had purpose, and while she was confident in her own escape, she had the other two to worry about.

"We're not here to discuss politics," she said, trying to diffuse the situation as quickly as possible. "There's a problem and we're trying to fix it, not to mention getting justice for the murdered. Your shoal is in trouble and whether you're a matron or not, you're the leader here, aren't you? We need to talk."

Scylla fixed her with a hard stare, as if searching for the slightest hint of insincerity. After a solid few seconds, she beckoned them inside the canopy with her.

Four knelt directly in front of her. Even if she wasn't officially a Matron, the locals seemed to see her as such so she would have to show her at least some of the respect a Matron was owed. Tephy and Mia did the same; although, the latter was still scowling.

"It was almost a year ago," Scylla began. "Gran found out the crabs were getting ready for a big push and she gathered all the shoals together to block 'em. We left some out of the direct fight in case they tried to do something sneaky, but they didn't, they just went all in one big group right into our turf, they wanted a serious fight and we were gonna' give it to 'em."

Her eyes glazed over, becoming distant as she began reliving the painful memory.

"Turf Wars down 'ere have always been rough, but people wouldn't usually die. Even against the shells, you might lose an arm, a leg, get stuff broken, but you wouldn' die."

Four rested her arms on her lap and leaned forward. "So what was different about this time?"

"The shells had a new leader, someone all the gangs seemed to be followin', and he had a plan. Normally, they'd come at us in a wall and try tah surround us but we were always too fast. Instead, he had 'em move in a big clump and just push through. Little ones scurrying around the outside of the group moving in a circle and snipping at our legs with the big ones right behind 'em and making it 'ard to attack without gettin' clipped."

Four nodded slowly. A maneuver like that would take a lot of practice, training, and discipline. If the consortiums were sneaking in military advisers to the crab gangs, then that was a huge problem.

"They just kept pushing through, we couldn't even make a dent in 'em. Some stupid kids tried shooting them with ink but unless you hit the eyes directly ink attacks don't do anything."

That wasn't strictly true but Four wasn't about to argue that at the moment. "But they must have stopped at some point because you're still here."

"Gran stopped it. She just superjumped up and landed right on top of one of the shells in the second line. Practically kicked one of his eyeballs off and brought 'im down into the line of little ones. Upset their whole dance and the formation fell apart. That's when we went in and really put it to 'em."

"And how do you normally do damage to crabs?"

"You gotta' kick 'em in their vulnerable spots, chinks in their armour, or you go for the eyes. Sometimes you can break their legs or arms too. That's usually enough to stop 'em." She shook her head. "Wasn't quite enough this time. We managed to stop 'em from getting closer but we couldn' take back any turf. There was just too many of 'em and they could damage us easier than we could 'em."

The reminiscence in Scylla's voice was replaced by anger and bitterness.

"The shoals started pulling back one by one 'til it was just ours left, going back to lick their scrapes. Gran tried to summon the ones we'd left to watch our backs but they ran without a fight. We were forced to run back to our old turf and we tried to set up there. A few from the other shoals stayed with us, not wantin' to back down, but it wasn't enough. They just fought their way into our fortress and pushed us out."

Mia leaned over and whispered. "A fortress is where every shoal sets up as their main gathering place and it's where they 'ole up if the worst happens. If you 'cannold' the fortress you 'cannold' your turf."

Four thought she understood what Mia said, but she was still struggling with her dialect. She wasn't sure what a fortress would look like amongst all the ordinary city buildings, but she guessed it was in some kind of primary location that would allow them to control a large area, like a plaza, square or major intersection. As long as a shoal could maintain control of the social and economic heart of their turf, they were still in business. Otherwise, they would be forced out.

"They went directly for your fortress?"

Scylla flashed grey. "I guess so. Seems like they were 'eaded for it the whole time. Gran was the most respected matron in Xapheerell but the others are all rivals so she couldn' get enough support to become a matriarch."

Four flashed green. "But how did she die?"

Scylla's mantle darked to almost black. "Got clobbered by a claw from one of the bigguns, right in the 'ead. Fell down the stairs and got all kinds of mangled. She'd already lost an arm, chunks out of 'er legs. Medics tol' us later she probably bled tah death."

"They didn't try to eat her to hide the evidence?"

Scylla scowled. "They tried, curse their blighted husks, but Inkopolis Security showed up and they managed to get 'er out before they had the chance, even managed to arrest the one what clobbered 'er later." She shook her head. "But they couldn' do anythin' 'bout the rest of 'em. Security usually lets us look after ourselves. They didn' expect somethin' like this anymore than we did."

"So if she's dead and her body was recovered, then why is she still listed as the only matron in Xapheerell Ward in the official registry? Not to mention that news of a murder would have been on the national news and the murder of a matron would have generated calls to arms, forcing the crabs out.

Scylla winced and averted her gaze. "Security said we should probably keep 'er death a secret, otherwise the crabs might get scared and try to finish us off. Worked so far, since we're still 'ere, but the rest got pushed out if they didn't already run out. After that, they got real quiet, probably trying to fill up the turf they already got. Lots of crabs 'ave moved in since. You ask me, the 'ole city oughta' be worried, not just us."

"They're starting to get worried," Four offered. "Kind of how I ended up here, I guess."

Scylla straightened her posture and her eyes hardened, the forthcoming tone of earlier replaced by unyielding steel. "Now, I've told you our situation and why Gran isn' here. You'd better be about to tell me something cursed important."

Most people her age would probably have been intimidated by that display and tone, and Tani Highwater would certainly have, but Agent 4 had faced foes and had friends made of even harder stuff than that.

"You got the big one already, that the crab gangs here are getting support from the Consortiums. From what you said, it sounds like they have military advisors too."

Scylla frown deepened. "Military? As in the shell armies?"

"Yeah. That fancy formation you described takes military-level drill to pull off. A lot of crabs don't cooperate instinctively like we do, so it's the only thing that makes sense. There might have even been some real soldiers among them. There probably still are."

Scylla eyed her suspiciously. "You some kind'a expert?"

"I know a veteran who taught me a lot of stuff, but that doesn't matter. What you really want to know is what you can do about the situation and how we can help, right?"

Scylla's tentacles turned a brighter shade of red. "Who's we?"

"Us three and a group of Octolings – a big group. They don't want more of 'em getting killed."

"That double murder over the weekend?" Scylla rubbed her hand along one of her long tentacles thoughtfully. "If they're just after revenge that won't 'elp us much."

"Not just revenge, we want to wipe out the crab gangs completely, but we need to plan in order to do it right, that's where we need your help. You've got people who know Xapheerell Ward, so you can provide guides."

Scylla's mantle rippled with darker red, and her eyes narrowed slightly. "You're not jokin'. You want guides so your scouts can sneak around and find all their strongpoints."

Four smiled. "You're sharp. You know we're serious then."

"I'd like to believe ya' are, but if you think I'm gonna' stake everyone's future on just that, you're not so sharp."

"Fair enough. Can you at least lend us one scout for tonight? It would let you test the waters and see how well we can cooperate together."

Scylla considered it for a moment then made an offhand gesture. "Fine, I'll get you someone, but I am not gonna' be on the sidelines with somethin' like this. You want my 'elp, you'd better let me in."

Four winced. That hadn't been part of the plan. Matrons usually wouldn't become directly involved in something like this, but even if Scylla was matron in all but official title, there was nothing preventing her.

"I'll see what I can do. I'm just the messenger so I can't promise more than that."

Scylla didn't seem pleased by the answer but she accepted it. "And what about Inkopolis Security? They may have 'elped us keep the shells away but they 'aven't let us attack them either. They're real shy about attacking the crabs in any way these days."

"I wasn't told much about all that. I just found out the crabs were getting help from the consortiums a little while ago. As for Security, I don't know what's being done about them, but I'm sure something'll be arranged."

Scylla eyed her carefully, peering deeply into her eyes, searching for something. "You've got friends in 'ai places, don't ya?"

"I like to think so. But I'm not gonna' tell you who they are. If they let you all the way in, like you want, then maybe you'll find out."

"Maybe?"

"They're able to help thanks to protecting their identities and being careful who they share them with. You can relate, right?"

Scylla's mantle flashed with anger. "Fine," she growled, "but this crazy scheme better work."

Four gave her a mirthless smile. "I can promise you this: those crabs are not going to be a problem much longer."