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Kingdom of Cages(26)

By:Sarah Zettel


Oh, piss. Fear ran through Chena. What if Mom found out? Mom was going to find out. Chena was probably fatally late already. Again. Oh, no. Oh, piss.

Nan Elle just cocked her head up at the cop. “And you’re going to question me, of course.”

He shook his head. “No, I don’t think I’ll bother just yet.”

Chena looked from one of them to the other. This was a complete wonk-up. It somehow seemed as if they must have had this conversation a million times, kind of like Mom and Dad and the endless late-night talks about money. But how could they have? Once the cameras caught her…

Of course. Here they didn’t have cameras.

“Then why are you bothering with the search?” Nan Elle asked.

“Because I want to make sure you’re not hiding anything in plain sight,” he answered blandly. “It would be like you.”

“That it would.” She inclined her head. “I don’t suppose you’ll let the girl take her medicine?”

The cop looked down his long, broad nose at Chena. “No, I don’t think I will.”

“I’m sorry, Chena,” said Nan Elle. “But that is the way it is.”

“ ’S not your fault,” murmured Chena to her hands.

“Actually, it is.” The cop gestured at Chena to stand up. Chena obeyed. “There are lines I can’t let you cross, Elle.”

Nan Elle’s mouth seemed to sink a little deeper. “So you keep informing me.”

Chena didn’t dare look back as the cop herded her out the door. Her legs and back felt creaky and reluctant, and her dry throat itched for whatever had been in that cup, but she swallowed against the feeling. She had bigger problems right now.

No new patients waited outside Nan Elle’s door, just a pale man and a dark woman, both with blue bands tied to their brown sleeves.

“Be thorough,” said the cop to them. “Get under and into everything, and I want a record of what’s growing on the roof, and don’t forget to check the aquarium pipes.”

“If you need to take care of this,” Chena tried, “I could just—”

The cop laid a heavy hand on her shoulder. Chena shut her mouth.

“Make sure she shows you all the registrations for whatever she’s growing,” he went on to his people. “I’ll be at my place when you’re done.” He looked down at Chena again, measuring, judging, trying to see what she had and what she thought she had. Chena shriveled.

He waved her to come on, and Chena forced her legs to move. He walked with a long, loose stride. She sort of waddled trying to keep up. If he noticed she was having trouble, she couldn’t tell. He sure as piss didn’t slow down any.

He took her down one level and right to the edge of the village, so that they were practically hanging out over the river. He pushed open the door to a small house with a roof that was more moss than anything else, and stood aside.

Chena hesitated. Okay, he was a cop, but it was dark in there.

The cop snorted. “It’s my office when I’m here. Nobody’s going to jump you.”

Try it. Just try. Chena’s hands bunched into fists, but she walked inside.

The place was dim and cluttered, a sort of cross between Nan Elle’s and Madra’s, with record sheets and books on the desk, bundles of plants hanging from the ceiling, and yet more record sheets, which seemed to have leaves and flowers embedded in them. There was only the one door.

The cop waved her to a chair, and Chena sat. The light slanted steeply through the windows and glowed dark gold. She glanced automatically at her wrist before she remembered her comptroller was in Nan Elle’s pocket.

Gone. She rubbed her wrist. That was completely gone and she’d never see it again. The one thing she had from the station, and one thing that it turned out would be useful down here, and she had given it away to a crazy old lady who hadn’t even given her any medicine.

The cop circled the desk and pulled the scanner off his belt. He gestured for her to come on, and Chena gave him her chip hand to scan. He looked down at the reader and grunted.

“Chena Trust. Here two days and already in the soup.” He touched a key on the scanner and its screen blanked.

“I didn’t do anything.” Chena spread her hands. “I just wanted an aspirin.”

The cop folded his hands together and rested them on his knee. “Who told you Nan Elle would have an aspirin?”

Chena shut her mouth so fast that her teeth clicked together. “I just heard,” she breathed.

“Right.” The cop sighed and smoothed his hand back over the top of his head. “Okay, Chena, I want you to tell me who you saw coming and going out of Nan Elle’s while you were there.”