The doors closed and, to my confusion, my stomach dropped. The elevator wasdescending. I’d assumed the level we’d just been on had been the ground-floor—number one.
I glanced back at the control board to see the number 30 light up, then the number 29, then 28…
Holy crap. Judging by the speed at which the numbers lit up, what I’d thought was the ground-floor had been Level 31.
Which meant there was a lot more to this building than met the eye. Thirty extra levels hidden beneath it, bored into the mountain itself.
“Woah,” I said softly, unable to contain my awe.
The blonde woman glanced at me with a polite smile. “I take it this is your first visit to the fortress?”
“Yes,” I murmured, my eyes tracking the flashing numbers as we continued to descend. When we reached Level 7, the doors reopened automatically.
We stepped out into another curving corridor, identical to the one we’d just left, except the doors were farther apart from one another. We walked for longer, this time, following its perpetual curve. The feeling quickly became off-putting, never being able to see an end in sight or what was around the bend until you reached it—only to be faced with another stretch of corridor. It was like being stuck in a weird, winding dream state. I welcomed the break to the monotony when a white door opened to our right, a few feet ahead of us, and two young men stepped out.
They wore deep red uniforms and golden rings, and pairs of black goggles dangled from their hands. They were chuckling about something as they headed in the direction we had come from, and I managed to catch the briefest glimpse of the room they had exited before the door closed. It was a large hall filled with rows of similarly clad men and women wearing black goggles and sitting in front of wide monitors.
I remembered Anna mentioning that Fairwell’s banking system was located within the fortress and consisted of lots of computers, so I wondered if that room was part of it. Though I wasn’t sure how that’d explain the goggles.
“This way please,” my escort said, a touch sharply as she realized I’d hung back, and I quickly followed.
I glanced up at the numbers that glowed a soft blue above each doorway. We’d almost reached 21, when three more men emerged in the corridor up ahead, heading toward us.
Two of the men wore black uniforms and walked on either side of a man wearing a dirty brown uniform, guns tucked intoholsters at their waists. They angled toward a set of elevator doors on the left. As we passed each other, I got a close-up of the man in between them. His face was pale, his lips a thin line, and as he raised his eyes briefly to meet mine, my throat tightened at the dread I saw there.
“Those are correction officers,” my escort explained, noticing where I’d been staring. “Black uniforms—you must have seen those around somewhere already.”
I tried to think, then remembered that I had, during the first week, noticed a couple of black-uniformed men approach someone who’d deposited their trash in the wrong place on our island. I hadn’t realized at the time they were correction officers. But it made sense. They dealt with the people who broke the rules.
I glanced over my shoulder to watch the officers escort the brown-uniformed man into the elevator, and I wondered what he’d done. Then the doors obscured them from view—the glowing symbol on the wall indicating they were heading downward.Downward.
“What happens to criminals here?” I asked, increasing my pace slightly to walk level with my escort once more. “Do you have a prison?”
“Of sorts,” she replied, casting me a sideways glance. “We call them holding rooms. They take up Level 1 of the fortress.”
I frowned. “Holding rooms?”
“Yes. They’re our version of a prison. Anyone who commits, or is suspected of committing, a serious crime is held there while on trial.”
“And what happens if they’re found guilty?” I asked.
The woman shrugged. “Then they are banished.”
“Banished?” I echoed. “What do you mean?”
“Deported. Shipped off. Typically back to whereFairwell found them.”
I stared at her. “So, it’s basically a death sentence?”
The woman gave another shrug. “If that’s how you want to see it. It’s not Fairwell’s fault if someone refuses to follow the rules. We’re a generous people and extend our facilities without discrimination, but that doesn’t mean we owe anyone anything. We’re free to withdraw our courtesy, just as they feel free to disrespect our laws.”
“Do founders get the same punishment?” I couldn’t help but wonder.
“Mmhmm. Yes. Banishment is the punishment for all major crimes. There’s no place for criminals on Fairwell. Minor infractions involve fees, mostly.”
I swallowed, my heart rate increasing just at the thought of being dumped back wherewehad come from. I made a mental note to inform my friends and family about this, just so they would stay extra aware of the rules.
Speaking of mental notes…
