She heard laughter on the other end.
She strode down the hall, searching for another crawl-cam to relish crushing. “You’ve been torturing people for a long time, and you’re going to pay. It’s not enough to reduce people to poverty, you have to turn them into nonhumans, things that don’t matter so you can do anything to them.” Nothing she could say would change any minds, and she knew that, but everything she said made her feel more powerful. No more appeasing. She could rant for a long time.
A new voice interrupted, this one unfiltered and female.
“We have someone for you to talk to.”
“Someone who will let us go?”
“Someone who can make a difference. Hold on. I’ll turn your camera on. He’ll want to see you.”
Maybe all that ranting had achieved something. “Who are you?”
“Chancellor Bowley.” Her voice was silky with self-satisfaction.
Avril gritted her teeth. The chancellor had been foisted on the campus to destroy it. “You’re a murderer.”
“But you don’t have to die. Look at this.”
Her father’s face came on her little screen. He looked furious.
“I have a deal to make,” Bowley said. “Avril, tell your father what’s happening.”
She took a moment to organize her thoughts, and a new one popped into her mind. This is why they want me: as a pawn to use against Dad. And he’s in the mutiny.
“She’s killing people. We’re trapped here in the dorm, we can’t get out, and that cold is here. People who leave, who fight back, get shot. I don’t know what else she’s done, but she’s a murderer.”
His eyes got narrower, his lips tighter. He understood.
“We’ll let her go,” Bowley said, “provided you do some things for us.”
“What would that be?” His tone was flat with anger.
“You can stop what you’re doing. Walk out. Cooperate.”
If they were threatening him, Avril realized, that meant they couldn’t get to him in any other way. He was safe, physically, and he was a danger to them.
“Don’t do it, Dad.”
“Murder is a serious charge,” he said.
She was about to say she could prove it, but he kept talking.
“So is extortion. Kidnapping. Conspiracy to commit murder. I can think of a half dozen other felonies just off the top of my head that you’re guilty of. Maybe even treason. Capital offenses.”
Bowley said, “She’ll die if you don’t agree.”
“Dad, I’m going to die anyway. I’ve been exposed. I’m trapped here with sick people. I’m helping to take care of them. Don’t do it.”
His face softened. “I love you, Avril. I love you more than anything else.”
“Prove it,” Bowley said.
“Dad, we can’t let them keep doing this.”
“I love you so much, Avril, that I’m going to listen to you and do what you say.”
“Dad?” He’d do what she said. He loved her. She could barely breathe.
“She’s a worthless dupe,” Bowley said, her voice now like flint.
Her father looked at Avril—or rather, at her face on his screen—and she looked at him, his face stern and strong. She could be as strong.
Bowley kept talking. “You won’t like what happens to her because of this. It can get a lot worse for her.”
He shook his head just a bit. “You’ll make it much worse for yourself.”
“You’re not going to win. You have no support.”
“We’ve had a vast majority for a long time, and that’s why you’re so desperate. Avril, I’m sorry, but I don’t think this conversation is going to lead anywhere. I love you. I’m angry beyond anything I can say about what’s happening to you. They’ll pay. I promise you we’ll win and they’ll pay.”
“I love you, too. And Mom. Tell her I love her. Stay safe.”
He nodded. And his face disappeared from her screen.
Avril took a long breath. This was how courage felt—like the worst fear and sorrow she’d ever felt. This fear and sorrow felt like a source of boundless strength.
“How could he do that to you?” Bowley shouted.
Avril opened her mouth to answer, then changed her mind. Her desire to rant had disappeared. She felt calm, she felt centered. Nothing that was going to happen to her in the future mattered. If she died, fine. If she lived, one day she’d hug her father tight.
Bowley was still shouting. “We’re coming for you. It’s going to get a lot worse, and he’ll change his mind.”
No, he wouldn’t. And in the meantime, her clothes were filthy. She went back to her room, left her phone in the hall with Bowley still raving, and inspected her closet for crawling cameras before she changed. She checked on Shinta and moved the desk back against the wall, and she took her time. When she came out, her phone was quiet. The hall was quiet. Most people had left—but all of them?
She began knocking on doors. Maybe someone had been left behind, too ill to leave. If so, she’d help them. She had enough life ahead of her to still be useful.
Irene watched Ruby charge out of the house, Will following right behind her, pleading and arguing, and his mother ignoring him.
Nimkii came to the edge of the fence, leaned over, and sniffed, watching Ruby and Will.
Ruby turned around and screamed at Will. “Some things are more important!”
He grabbed at her. She slapped him hard across the face and shoved him to the ground.
“Irene!” she shouted. “Come here.”
Irene ran. Being obedient might be the safest response.
“I’m going back to work,” Ruby said. “You stay here and help Will.” She pointed to him on the ground, sulking.
“Yes.”
“Do what Will says.” She turned and left. Ruby would place duty before family. That wasn’t surprising. Perhaps it meant the prison management knew about the mutiny and expected trouble. Or that the delta cold had reached its staff or prisoners.
Irene waited until she
