Unraveled (5 page)

“It’s a necessary evil,” Cormac says to me, waving Hannox off to finish his work.

“Everything with you is a necessary evil,” I say angrily.

“I’m not interested in continuing this petty fight.”

I’m too furious to find the words to tell him that my being angry that he killed an
innocent man is not a petty misunderstanding. Instead my hands ball into fists, but
I force them to stay at my sides.

“That’s better,” Cormac says, grinning at my attempt to control myself. “I’m glad
you’ve finally learned your place.”

A wall of guards surrounds us, and Cormac paces the small space until the all-clear
is given. Somehow I manage to bite back the told-you-so trying to escape my lips.
A group of ministers wait as we enter. Circles ring their eyes and their suits are
wrinkled. Cormac strides past most of them without even a glance. He only stops to
shake hands with the man at the head of the line.

“Grady, what happened?” he says as the man falls into step beside him.

“The reconditioning program failed, Cormac,” Grady responds in a what-can-you-do voice.

“But how did it come to this? My reports say there’s been a full blackout for over
five hours,” Cormac says. The chumminess is gone from his voice.

Five hours. It’s been less than an hour since we reached the loophole, but a considerable
amount of time must have passed in Arras before the news reached us on Earth. Days
go by in Arras before the people on Earth blink, thanks to the difference in the speed
of time in each world. When the Guild created Arras, it forced time to pass twelve
times faster there than on Earth in an effort to quickly establish supremacy over
the world they had left behind. But the divergent timelines have prevented Cormac
from receiving the initial reports in a timely way. Three days have already passed.
No wonder everyone is tense.

“It’s complicated. I didn’t expect you to come,” Grady admits. He tugs at the tie
around his neck. It probably feels like a noose.

“You hoped I wouldn’t come,” Cormac corrects him.

“No, but I don’t think it’s necessary for you to be here,” Grady says.

“Because you have the situation under control?” Cormac asks. “You don’t, Grady. Your
city is shut down. Arras relies on your sector to provide seafood as well as paper
supplies. Of course I had to come. When a sector minister loses control of his entire
population, his boss has to step in.”

“And he’s your boss,” I say in a mocking tone. If Cormac could have prevented this
by stepping in, why hadn’t he done it before?

“Stay out of this, Adelice,” Cormac warns me.

“No,” I say, wiggling between the men. “You don’t get to come in here and act like
this is all his fault. How long have I heard you whispering about problems in the
Eastern Sector? If you want us to fix this, we need to address the real problem here.”

Beside Cormac, Grady turns away but I spy a smile tugging at his lips.

“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

T
HE 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.

“It doesn’t matter.” Cormac turns away and speaks quietly to Hannox, who nods gravely
at commands I can’t hear.

While Cormac talks to him, I wander over to the bars. Most of the girls look away
from me, but Hanna faces me without blinking.

“Come to stare at us so that you can feel superior?” she asks.

I run my fingers over the cool steel between us. “I’ve spent time imprisoned by Cormac.”

“And now you’re by his side. Clearly, you’re back in his good graces. Who did you
betray for that privilege?” Hanna is clearly unimpressed with me.

“I understand being angry. I’m angry, too,” I whisper to her.

“Oh, please,” she says with an exaggerated roll of the eyes. “What could you possibly
have endured?”

“Death, destruction, the loss of the people I love most,” I say, and I refuse to blink.
Hanna thinks she has me pegged, but she has no idea how I wound up here.

Or how far I’m willing to go.

“So you gave in to save a boy,” she says in a mocking voice.

I don’t tell her about my sister or the mother they’ve turned into a monster or the
friend who escaped only by losing her own blood in a bathtub. Hanna needs to be angry.
It fuels her so that she won’t feel the fear in her belly. I know that fear. It never
goes away. You can only ignore it or hide it under the fury.

But I have different reasons to play along right now. Ones she can’t understand. Hanna
only sees me on the other side of the bars and that makes me her enemy.

Still, a girl might go crazy locked away in a tower day after day. Hanna and her conspirators’
perception of Arras has warped. It’s easy to believe you understand the function of
your world when it’s at your fingertips every morning, afternoon, and evening. When
the loom presents a piece of your world, it’s easy to believe you see the whole picture.
I held thunder in my palms and wove rivers into being. But I didn’t understand what
I was facing until I stood under the Interface and contemplated the reality of
both
worlds. Then I saw Arras for what it was: a parasite sucking away at the Earth.

“There’s more at stake here than you or me,” I say to her quietly. “It’s the awful
truth. You think you can run from it, but there’s nowhere to go.”

“I don’t want to run from it,” Hanna says, her eyes fierce. “I want to change it.”

“You can’t do that from a prison cell,” I remind her.

“Adelice wised up,” Cormac says, and I realize he’s been privy to our entire conversation.
“She and I are working to make life in Arras stable again.”

“I can’t wait to see how you’re going to do that,” Hanna says.

“It’s too bad you won’t be around to witness it,” Cormac replies.

“What does that mean?” I demand, stepping in. I don’t care what any of them think
of me anymore. Not when things are spiraling out of control.