Dark Life: Rip Tide by Kat Falls

here?”
    “They aren’t going to tell me chum,” Fife said. “I’m the man who gives them less than they need each month. They don’t understand that I don’t fill the orders, I just distribute what I’m sent.” Sighing deeply, he glanced at Shade. “You should start getting oiled up.”
    “Already?” Eel complained. “The stink is going to kill my appetite.”
    “Nothing kills your appetite.” Pretty picked up a second bucket. Tipping it, he drizzled oil across Shade’s broad shoulders, which Shade then smeared down his arms and over his bare chest. Fish oil. The stench filled the fuel tank as fast as Pretty poured.
    I wasn’t ready to let the last topic drop. “Representative Tupper says the surfs will talk to Captain Revas. Is that true?” I asked Fife.
    He snorted. “The Assembly likes to think they have a point person in the Seaguard. A happy delusion. Frankly,
you’d
have a better chance getting answers out of them. And with that shine of yours broadcasting that you’re a subsea pioneer, that’s saying something.”
    I had a sinking feeling that he was right. I’d had a sample of Captain Revas’s charm that afternoon and couldn’t see any reason why the surfs would want to deal with her, despite what Tupper thought.
    Just then Ratter pushed past the hanging carcasses. “Sorry to interrupt, boss.” Then he caught sight of me and scowled.
    Tipping up her chin, Gemma glared back at him.
    “What’s up, Ratter?” Fife prompted.
    “Couple of peeved surfs outside want to talk to you. Should I take care of them?”
    “No,” Fife said. “They have the right to complain. And I get paid to listen. Tell them I’ll be right out.”
    I wondered if Mayor Fife’s answer would have been different if we weren’t here.
    Ratter sent one more evil look my way and left. He was burly and no doubt violent, but I just didn’t care that he hated me. All my worry was going toward getting my family reunited.
    “That man didn’t want to let Ty onto Rip Tide,” Gemma told Fife angrily. “Does he have a problem with the pioneers, too?”
    “Ratter has a problem with anyone who isn’t like him,” Fife replied. “Lucky for us, that’s everybody. The world only needs one Ratter.”
    “If that,” I muttered.
    “Don’t like him much, huh?” Fife asked. “Excellent. That’s what I pay him for. To be nasty, so I don’t have to.”
    “He’s very good at it,” Gemma said tartly, which made Fife laugh.
    “Know what a ratter is?” he asked her.
    When she shook her head, he explained, “A dog bred to kill vermin. The kind you can throw into a rat pit and he won’t jump out until every last rodent is dead. Shakes them till their necks break. You can make money off a dog like that. When I became mayor, I made it my job to keep this town free of vermin—the two-legged kind. Ratter is the dog that helps me do that.” Fife’s grin was broad and sparkling. “He takes pride in his name.”
    Outside, a gong sounded. “Half an hour till show-time,” he told Shade. “See you all ringside.” He paused by me. “Sorry I wasn’t more help. But stick around with your ears open. If a surf knows anything about Drift kidnapping a couple of pioneers, it’ll be the talk of Rip Tide before the match is over. You might overhear something useful.”
    “Thanks,” I said. “I’ll do that.”
    “Being that you’re Dark Life, I expect you know what a real riptide is.”
    “Yeah. I do.”
    “Good. Then you’ll be careful out there.” After putting on his wide-brimmed hat, Fife looked back at Shadeand frowned. “Don’t forget his head,” he called to Pretty. “Gabion is known for ripping off ears.”
    As the others made their way down to the drill well, Gemma and I paused by the outside railing. The sun was starting to sink in the sky, which worried me. If the surfs on Drift hadn’t demanded a ransom by now, I doubted they ever would, despite what Tupper had said.
    “What is a riptide?” Gemma asked