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FIVE
THE STONES ARE DAMP AS I TRAIL my fingertips over the rough walls. I recognize the smell, how it prickles my nostrils. This cell is different from the one I found myself in when I was brought to the Coventry after my retrieval. It’s large and set behind steel bars. I thought Grady wanted to negotiate with these women, but he must still see them as a threat. My goggles allow me to maneuver the dark corridors and as we round the corner, I make out several heat sources in front of us. The prisoners lie in puddles of umber, huddling together for warmth in the cold cells, but as we approach they move toward the bars.
“Ladies,” Cormac greets them. He sounds charming and relaxed.
There is an acute inhalation in the room, like each person has sucked in a breath at the same time. I wonder how they’re feeling now that Cormac Patton has come to see them. Do they think he’s come as their savior or do they know him as well as I do? They must know. Even the Spinsters who pretended to be blind couldn’t help but see.
One of the women finally dares to speak. “Minister Patton.”
“Can we get some emergency lights on in here?” Cormac asks.
There’s a buzz of orders throughout the room and a few minutes later a dim light flicks on overhead.
I wonder why they need to have a holding cell under the Ministry offices, anyway.
I don’t have to think long about that question.
“Ladies.” Cormac’s politician smile is plastered on his face. “The whole of the Eastern Sector is in terror—”
?
??Sir,” the woman dares to address him.
“What’s your name?” he asks her.
“Hanna,” she says. She’s a few years older than me, with an upturned nose set over a wide mouth, and her brown eyes sparkle with rebellion.
“Hanna, don’t speak until I tell you to.” The smile slips from his face, showing them the Cormac I know and loathe. His fingers massage his temples. I guess I’m not the only one giving him a headache. “As I was saying, your actions—or rather inaction—have crippled this entire sector. I would love to hear your reason for abandoning your duties. You’ve left the entire sector in fear.”
Hanna doesn’t look abashed at Cormac’s admonishment. She looks angry. She obviously hates him as much as I do. It occurs to me that in another scenario she and I might be friends. Except that I’m standing on the other side of the cell’s bars, and I’m sure she hates me as much as him at the moment.
“We want basic rights,” Hanna says. But the anger makes her voice tremble, weakening her strong words.
“Basic rights,” Cormac parrots. “You have clothing, food, shelter, safety. The last time I checked, those were basic rights.”
“We want the rights you afford other citizens. We want to be able to marry and to have our own homes,” Hanna says.
“Those are privileges,” he corrects her.
“And we don’t deserve privileges?” Hanna bursts out. She grabs the bars and presses her face into the space between them. “We work around the clock to ensure this world functions, and you lock us in a tower.”
I knew I liked her.
“And you live in beautiful homes, wear designer clothing, eat delicacies,” Cormac starts.
“Not all of us are eager to be paraded around like peacocks.” She looks at me.
That’s not fair. I’m dressed in tactical gear, for Arras’s sake.
“And your plan to get these things that you deserve is to ignore your duties and terrify citizens?” Cormac asks.
“We want you to listen to us.”
“I am listening, and I hear what you’re saying,” Cormac says. “What you need to realize is that I don’t care. Your claims don’t absolve you of your crime.”
Cormac has already labeled them as criminals. This can’t end well.
“I’m sure the Spinsters are eager to remedy the situation,” Grady says, rubbing his hands together.
