UnWholly

“So you and Co

Hayden looks genuinely perplexed and takes the list to look at it. “Hmm, I hadn’t noticed. Anyway, it’s not part of our criteria. We look for only-children in dimly lit suburban neighborhoods. It means fewer people to squeal on us, and less of a chance of being seen. See, brothers and sisters can’t keep their mouths shut, no matter what we threaten them with. I guess mothers who stork babies mostly give them to people who are parents already. Hard to find a storked only child.”

“Well,” says Starkey, “maybe we need to change the criteria.”

Hayden shrugs like it’s nothing, like it doesn’t really matter, and it just makes Starkey angrier. “Take it up with Co

•   •   •

The revelation in the ComBom gives Starkey a game-changing idea. One by one he singles out all the storked kids in the Graveyard. It’s not an easy task, because most storks want to keep their storking a shameful secret. Starkey, however, makes no secret of his own doorstep arrival, and soon the storked kids begin to seek him out, seeing him as their champion.

As it turns out, a full fourth of the Graveyard population are storks. He keeps that information to himself.

The girl named Bam, who at first hated him because he took her place in the Holy of Whollies, warms to him quickly because she’s a stork as well. “If you want your revenge on Co

One day Starkey catches Co

“Is there a buyer for it, or are they go

“They asked for it in the front office, that’s all I know.”

“The engine says Rolls-Royce—I thought they only made cars.”

“Nope.”

Starkey keeps chatting about pointless stuff, until he’s sure that Co

“Listen, I’ve been thinking . . . you know I was storked, right? And well, you know, it’s nothing big, but I thought it might be nice to make some special reserved time just for storked kids at the Rec Jet. Just to show them they won’t be discriminated against anymore.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Co

Starkey calls his little group the Stork Club and stakes out the hour between seven and eight every evening. While everyone’s looking somewhere else, a new class distinction rises within the Graveyard. The Stork Club is the only minority with special members-only time at the Rec Jet. It’s a taste of privilege that these kids have never had before—and Starkey wants them to gobble it up. He wants them to get used to it. He wants them all to expect it—and to know that Starkey can deliver.

Since Starkey runs food services, members of the Stork Club start replacing others in serving positions, and dole out larger servings to other storks with a wink. In the Holy of Whollies, the only ones who seem wise to these little creeping alliances are Ashley, whose job it is to root out social flare points, and that obnoxious Sherman kid who replaced John as head of waste and sanitation. It turns out Ralphy was easily bribed to look the other way, and as for Ashley, Starkey pretty much has it under control.

“What if giving storks special treatment creates resentment in the general population?” Ashley asks him as he supervises di

“Well,” Starkey tells her with a mildly seductive smile, “the general population can kiss my ass.”

It makes Ashley blush just a little bit. “Just try to keep a low profile, okay?”

Still beaming charm, he says, “It’s what I do best,” and serves her a nice heaping portion, all the while calculating how she might secretly play into his plans.

“You’re a hard guy to read,” she tells him. “I’d really like to get inside your head.”

To which he responds, “The feeling’s mutual.”

•   •   •

Each night, during “the stork hour” at the Rec Jet, Starkey plants tiny seeds of discontent over games of pool and Ping-Pong. Nothing so blatant as fomenting a revolution, just i

“I think Co

Starkey never shows any open defiance; that would be counterproductive. It’s not about tearing Co

Part Three

Windows of the Soul

Collected on the Internet, October 2011:

Kidney and other organ prices on the global criminal markets are based upon publicly available reports and are quoted in U.S. dollars. The price represents the amount either paid to the seller of the organ or the price paid by the buyer for the organ.

Average paid by kidney buyer: $150,000

Average paid to seller of kidney: $5,000

Kidney broker in Yemen: $60,000

Kidney broker in the Philippines: $1,000 to $1,500

Kidney buyer in Israel: $125,000 to $135,000

Kidney buyer in Moldova: $100,000 to $250,000

Kidney buyer in Singapore: $300,000

Kidney buyer in United States: $30,000

Kidney buyer in China: $87,000

Kidney buyer in Saudi Arabia: $16,000

Kidney seller in Bangladesh: $2,500

Kidney seller in China: $15,000

Kidney seller in Egypt: $2,000

Kidney seller in Kenya: $650

Kidney seller in Moldova: $2,500 to $3,000

Kidney seller in Peru: $5,000

Kidney seller in Ukraine: $200,000

Kidney seller in Vietnam: $2,410

Kidney seller in Yemen: $5,000

Kidney seller in the Philippines: $2,000 to $10,000

Liver buyer in China: $21,900

Liver seller in China: $3,660

Courtesy of

www.havocscope.com

11 • Smoker

The boy is certain he’s going to die.

He sprained his ankle falling into the pit, maybe even broke it. Now it’s swollen and blue, and has been that way for days. It’s bad, but it’s not the worst of his problems.

The pit is more than ten feet deep, and even if his ankle were fine, he’d never be able to climb out. For five days he’s been screaming for help, and now his voice is nothing but a dry rasp.

And all because of those stupid cigarettes.

It had been weeks since he had a smoke. His supplier had been arrested again, and although there were kids at school who bragged about smoking, no one would offer him a cigarette, or even give him the name of a dealer. That’s why he came to this part of town—a warehouse district of unused, rotting buildings, many of which were condemned, but no one wanted to waste the money or energy it would take to tear them down.

He knew if he was ever going to score himself some smokes again, this was the place to do it. Even if it was just one or two from some skank nic addict, it would be worth it. That day was the third time he detoured through the warehouse streets on the way home from school, and nothing. No one. It seemed not even the nic addicts found the warehouse district worthy of their attention.