Darken the Stars(94)

“Fighting how?” I ask.

“Fighting for their lives,” Dobrey admits. “He’s been killing off all the Brothers not present in the compound. We’re all on lockdown.”

“Why am I still alive?” I ask. In the future, I would’ve already been executed.

“Well, you probably won’t be soon. Excelsior has promised to send Kyon your head if he doesn’t submit to the Brotherhood at your trial.”

“When is my trial?” I ask. This is new. He never put me on trial in the future. Have I managed to change things just by writing a note to Kyon on the mirror? The problem is that I don’t know if I’ve changed anything for the better, although, it probably can’t be much worse than before. Maybe.

“Your trial is this rotation.”

“Will my trial be public?” I ask.

He shakes his head vehemently. “No. Never. No one is allowed into the chamber with the Brothers. It’s secret. They have their rituals in there.”

“But that’s not fair! They can do anything they want and no one will know about it.”

“I think that’s the point. If it’s any consolation, your execution will be public.”

I know he’s right. I’ve already been to one of my executions in the future. I don’t think I want to be at this one, too.

“Aren’t you curious to see what goes on in there?” I ask. “There has to be a way that I can record it for you.”

“Why would I want to get involved in that? It’s none of my business!”

“If there’s one thing I know about men like Excelsior, it’s that they like to talk. He’s going to say a lot more interesting things to me than I’m going to say to him at my trial—things that will make people mad, Dobrey. If you could somehow leak my trial, I doubt you’ll have to show up for work on Fitzmartin or kill anyone else you don’t want to ever again.”

He looks around, making sure that we’re not being overheard. “There could be a way. A small, oral camera could work,” he murmurs timidly. “We use them to study the digestive tracks of the priestesses. They swallow them. But I could maybe put one on you somewhere. Make it look like a button or something. They may not check you once they prepare you here.”

I know I can’t push him. He’s skittish. If I push too hard, he’ll fold. “It’s your call,” I whisper. “I just don’t want to see things get worse for you when it’d be so easy to change them. And I’m dead anyway, so I have nothing to lose.”

Another attendant enters the room and makes Dobrey jump. “You haven’t given her the RU7 yet?” he scolds; his blue eyes are so light as to be almost milky. “Gimme the gun and go check on the other one.”

“I have this one, Mieko,” Dobrey whines.

“Do it now!” Mieko retorts. “I’m tired of your insubordination! You’re going on my report. I’ll personally see you demoted to full-time extermination! Do you hear me? Now go!”

Dobrey hurries out of the room, and Mieko wastes no time pushing RU7 into my arm.

“Who’s in the other room?” I ask while the drug burns a raw path through my vein.

But Mieko is all business. He sets the gun aside and leaves me tied to the bed.

A galaxy of stars floods my vision as I look around me. Colors and shapes shift and drift in and out of focus. My head lolls on my chest as someone takes off my restraints, lifts me up, and strips off my clothing. I have a hazy notion that I’m being bathed and attired in something tight and torture inducing, like the dresses I’ve seen Nezra and some of the other priestesses wear. My hair is roughly done up in intricate braids. Finally the metal collar is tested again and matching metal arm restraints are added to my ensemble at my wrists.

Dobrey leans over me and says something. It sounds the same as if he were speaking to me underwater. He presses something into the stiff fabric of my dress. It pokes my skin, a pinprick. Then, he’s gone. I stare at the lights on the ceiling again.

Bland-faced men lift me from my bed and place me into a black coffin-shaped transport pod hovering nearby. The lid closes. My blurry eyes look up through the pod’s window at the white lights on the ceiling. The pod moves slowly down a hall.

Dizzy, I strain to focus. Every person who passes stares down at me through the glass, and I come to think of myself as being a part of some black parade. The hoverpod pauses. A soldier opens the lid of the pod. He runs his hands over me as he gazes at my breasts, which push up from the cinched-too-tight corset. I want to push him away when he touches them, but nothing about me works right. I try to concentrate on his face, but I don’t recognize it so I quickly lose interest in him. He closes the lid to the pod and waves his hand and I move on.