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Senator Masson banged his gavel upon the sounding board, despite the silence. “Ms. Randolph, do you wish to say anything more in your defense before we begin today?”
“No.”
“Well, then. After reviewing precedent with Dr. Vargas for several hours yesterday morning—several hours more than I would have liked—it appears we cannot force the serum upon you. We don’t have enough justification for such a step, and you have already confessed to accessing the BIRD.”
Lila settled more comfortably in her chair.
Her ploy had worked.
“As to the charge of treason, we find no evidence of personal gain in your records. We also find no evidence of you handing the information over to a third party. Without the truth serum to aid us, we must find you not guilty.” Senator Masson dropped his gavel on the table with a clatter and a clink. “Dr. Vargas, as a side note, wishes he could employ you as a clerk. He called you more slippery than jelly, and I’m inclined to agree.”
Senator Hardwicke, on Masson’s right, clicked his pen on and off rapidly.
His neighbor ripped it from his grasp and slapped it on the table.
“As to the charge of hacking, you were correct yesterday. We do not have any direct evidence of you hacking BullNet, unlike the other accused souls who have sat in your seat over the last few weeks. We also have no evidence that you downloaded any data from the BIRD. After consulting with Bullstow’s technical department and Dr. Vargas, we must find you not guilty.”
Lila’s heart lifted. She’d be condemned to a slave’s term, then, and her father and Chief Shaw would be spared.
Senator Masson cleared his throat. “You did admit to inappropriately accessing a secure government database, Ms. Randolph, something you had no right and no permission to do, regardless of your intentions. That charge carries a slave’s term of up to ten years. You also admitted to improperly accessing a government computer, regardless of whether or not we have proof. That is also punishable by up to ten years. This committee rules that you bear the full penalty for each charge.”
Senator Masson snatched up his gavel and banged it on the sounding board.
Lila barely heard it. She wasn’t sure how to feel about her sentence. She’d spend the next twenty years as a slave, entering the auction house as a twenty-eight-year-old woman. Only after she turned forty-eight could she begin to work off her selling price and earn back her mark. Unfortunately, she’d go for quite a sum. With no credits to her name, she had no hope of working off her price before she died.
But at least she’d managed to save Shaw and her father.
The senators’ eyes slid to the window, focusing on the workborn they found there, still spreading mulch. The prime minister’s daughter, charged with far worse than any other, had received the lightest sentence of all. Though the senate couldn’t charge her with more, the comparably light sentence would only increase the protests outside.
The senators looked away, shifting in their seats.
Dixon kept a white-knuckled grip on the seat before him.
Oh gods, was he going to do something? Would the workborn? Would it begin before she even left the courtroom?
She craned her head toward the window. The workborn moved away in a group, leaving their bags of mulch behind mid-job. Only one worker stayed behind, a scar cutting down the side of his face. He spread mulch over the same spot he’d worked on during the sentencing. Lila recognized him immediately. Finn Nottingham worked for the oracle. He had two young children and a new husband at home.
He’d risk all that, just to rescue her.
A rescue she hardly needed.
Finn turned his head. His lips barely moved in the cold, and his breath came out in little curls of steam.
Lila jerked at a metallic tinkling behind her. Two blackcoats marched from the door. One extended a pair of handcuffs while the other held on to the butt of his tranq gun. Their eyes followed her hands in case she’d smuggled a weapon inside.
Everyone knew that she could draw a gun faster than most people could blink.
But she wouldn’t draw. Not here. Not anywhere. She’d go with the blackcoats to the security building, where they’d confirm her fingerprints in the state database. They’d verify her DNA in the state registry. Then they’d take her to the clinic, and Dr. Booth would cut open her neck and insert a slave’s chip. A GPS satellite would tattle on her location if she dared run away.
If the oracle’s people wanted her, they’d snatch her before that happened.
She remembered Finn’s children playing tag in a small apartment, their small feet slapping against the wooden floor.
He’d never see those children grow up if he got caught.
When Finn and his friends came for her, she’d go. She’d escape the oracle’s compound later and turn herself in. The government gave the women plenty of money. If they wanted her so badly, they could damn well buy her at the auction house.
At least Chief Sutton had not attended. Lila couldn’t bear the thought of her old mentor seeing her in handcuffs.
