“She thinks she’s cute,” Cormac tells him. “Adelice, do I need to give you another reminder of my attitude toward traitors?”
I shrink back a bit and glower at him, wondering who he views as a traitor in this scenario.
“The reconditioning didn’t work, Grady?” Cormac asks, bringing the conversation back to its original topic.
“No, sir,” Grady says, and the tension between them thickens. Cormac is asserting his authority over the man by reminding him how he failed.
Grady ushers us into his office and offers drinks, but even Cormac refuses as we take our seats. Cormac sits behind the desk, and Grady is forced to sit next to me. He doesn’t relax into his seat, and from my vantage point I can see his feet are tapping nervously on the floor.
“How did this start?” Cormac asks.
“As you know, we’ve had some dissent among the working-age women in the Sector.”
I’d heard Cormac speak of this before, on the night of the State of the Guild. It seems like a million years ago, and while I know that’s not the case, I also know it’s been an issue for at least two years.
“They were refusing to marry,” I say out loud, recalling information Cormac had shared with me.
“They never stopped.” Grady’s voice sounds weary as though he’s borne the weight of this for far too long. “We introduced new incentives—”
“You tried to bribe them,” Cormac cuts in. “You gave them more pay, Grady. The only thing that taught them was that they could get what they wanted by being obstinate.”
Grady’s hands grip the arms of his chair and I wonder if he’s trying to hold back from punching Cormac.
“I think that sounds like progress,” I say.
“You would.” Cormac dismisses my input. “How did it leak into the Coventry?”
Cormac can be dense sometimes. I think of my own mother, complaining about her boss and her poor wages.
“It became the vogue. It was impossible to determine if Eligibles had been contaminated.”
Contaminated? Is he serious?
“And now we have a full-blown strike on our hands, Grady. If you had listened to me when I suggested—”
“Altering the entire population of the Eastern Coventry was not an option,” Grady interrupts him. “This is a case of a few bad apples spoiling the bunch.”
“A few?” Cormac roars. “Your looms are dark! Where are your good apples?”
“They can be reasoned with,” Grady says. “We have some of the Spinsters responsible for initiating the blackout on the premises waiting for further questioning.”
“I want to see them. What have they admitted to?” Cormac asks. He stands and heads for the door in quick, purposeful strides.
“Admitted? Nothing. They want to negotiate.”
“Negotiate.” Amusement mixes with arrogance as Cormac repeats the term.
“They’re willing to go back to the looms, Minister,” Grady says. “They simply want to discuss some possible changes within the structure of the Coventry.”
“Do they?” Cormac asks. “Unlike you, I’m not in the business of listening to the complaints of a group of women.”
“Really?” I say beside him.
“Do you have something to add?” Cormac asks me.
“Yeah, I do,” I say. “What happened to working together and finding a solution?”
Cormac pushes me against the wall and lowers his mouth to my ear. “Do not question me in front of my men. You do not understand the gravity of this situation.”
“Because you won’t tell me about it.”
“Because you can’t fix it,” he seethes. “Now shut up and follow me, or I’ll send you back to the transport with Hannox and believe me, you do not want that.”
“Yes, sir.” I emphasize the title. So much for working together.
“I want to see these women.” Cormac releases me and tugs at the hem of his jacket.
“Minister, I think you’ll find that they aren’t asking for much—”
“I’m not interested in what they’re asking for,” Cormac stops him.
“But—”
“Nor am I interested in what you think, Grady. You’ve let this situation get out of control. I came to fix it.”
I can’t keep the question to myself. “Then why do you want to talk to them? If you aren’t interested in listening to them?”
He stops and stares me down, his eyes as dark as the room surrounding us.
“To tell them what I’m going to do to them.”
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.