FOUR

A TALL IRON FENCE WRAPS AROUND THE Eastern Ministry, the complex that contains the sector’s offices. A guard steps out and clears us for entrance while two more men open the gate and then secure it behind us. Despite the lack of power for operating the gate, the capitol offices must have some type of generator because a few electric lights blink in the windows. To an ordinary citizen they probably look like beacons of hope. To me they’re warning signals.

I have no idea what to expect once we’re inside. Cormac was tight-lipped after our altercation in the street. The grounds of the Ministry are lush and wild in the dark. It’s impossible to tell whether people and animals are moving through the gardens or whether it’s the blackness playing tricks on my mind.

We pile out of the transport and Cormac taps my goggles. I pull them over my eyes and the world is red. Despite the total darkness, I can now see everything in front of me. Cormac glows like an ember.

“We’ll check the perimeter,” Hannox says.

“For what?” I ask.

“Bombs, armed rebels—”

“Cosmetic-less women!” I cry in mock horror.

“This isn’t a joke.” Hannox’s eyes narrow. “If you can’t get your priorities straight—”

“You have a blackout,” I say, moving toward him. “The citizens are in their homes scared. You killed a man in the street. All because some women refused to do what you told them to? Get your priorities straight!”

“We have no idea what to expect in there. It’s standard policy to check out a building and its surroundings before the prime minister enters it, even when there isn’t an active rebellion in the immediate vicinity,” Hannox explains through gritted teeth. I’m pretty sure he’s visualizing strangling me.

“There’s no rebellion here.”

“What do you call this?” Hannox says, waving his hands at the blank sky.

“A few Spinsters taking a break?”

“Adelice.” Cormac’s invocation of my name is a warning, but I don’t stop.

“Believe me, there’s no armed revolution waiting for you in there,” I say. It’s as though they can’t comprehend that someone chose not to obey, as though dissent could only be violent. I’m certain if a group had planned a full-blown revolution the streets would not be empty now.

“As if I would trust your insight,” Hannox says. “May I please finish my job, sir?”

“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.