“Assaulting an officer?” Yundoro growled, releasing me. His eyes flicked to Shalk. “Add it to her charges.”
“What do you think’s on it?” Shalk asked, taking it lightly from Yundoro while ignoring his request.
“Doesn’t matter,” Yundoro answered, wiping himself off like I was unclean. “Police are barred from pulling scan data. We can’t take these from the scene.”
I watched the chip between Shalk’s fingers, cursing that I couldn’t tell them why I had taken it. Maybe I could show them. I reached out and plucked it out of Shalk’s hand, knowing I might get slammed against the wall again.
Shalk looked at me, calm. “She stole it,” he said, taking it back again.
“Yeah?” Yundoro grunted.
“It has to go into evidence,” Shalk said, his eyes darting to me almost admiringly. “Theft isn’t covered by Brinkly versus Kleen ’n’ Brite?.”
A small, hopeful fire burned in my belly. My plan might just succeed.
Yundoro pursed his lips. “Whatever. If you want the paperwork.” He handed over an evidence envelope, clucking his tongue. “Should’ve kept her in restraints,” Yundoro commented.
“If the judge orders it,” Shalk said, finishing my intake with a press of a button on his Cuff.
At that moment, The Blocks came on. Anything that wasn’t explicitly in the public domain was blurred to little more than colored squares. Shalk and Yundoro became two masses of moving blocks in the approximate shape and location of the human behind them. As far as the authorities were concerned, I had basically lost my right to see. In all likelihood, I would be like this for the rest of my life. My hands were the only thing I could see. They were shaking. My chest tightened. I couldn’t have ever imagined how crushing and claustrophobic The Blocks now made me feel.
“It’s okay.” Shalk set a gentle hand on my back and pressed me down a hall I could barely see. Behind us, Yundoro sniggered at me. I deliberately slowed my breathing and stood up tall.
Shalk locked me in a holding cell with the blocky shapes of four or five people. It was hard to tell through the blur exactly how many or who they were.
“I’ll contact your Lawyer,” Shalk sighed.
When he was gone, the room was silent. No one spoke. It would hardly do for them to spend money on words in here. Cameras whirred in the corners, tracking our faces. I could hear them and sense them, watching our lips, our blinks, our sighs.
I couldn’t believe I would never hear Sam’s voice again. I would never see his face. I didn’t even have a picture to go home to. The Rights Holders owned every picture ever taken of Sam. The Ad companies probably had dozens of his scans stored away, but I had nothing. I began to sob softly, letting the tears fill my eyes and blur whatever was left to see.
I thought things couldn’t get worse, but then I reminded myself that soon the Collection Agency would come to retrieve me. There would be no trial; I couldn’t afford that. A judge would remand me to the custody of the highest bidder. The small flicker of hope I had in the Ad Chip faltered. I could never afford to bring the case to trial, so what good would evidence do me?
I wondered what Henri, Margot and Kel would think when I didn’t show up. I knew they would probably just go on, and I couldn’t blame them. What else could they do? Whenever Henri came up short looking for his little blue device, Kel would know I had stolen it. I doubted she would see or care about the loophole I’d found to justify my actions.
I tried to conjure some optimism, but found only the desolation of my future stretching out before me. I tried not to think about being sent off to do crop pollination or factory work. Beecher’s sad face came back to me. When confronted with the same prospects, his choice was to have no future at all. At that moment, right then, would I have jumped if I had the chance?
No. They could kill me, but I would never take my own life. I would fight to the end.
RECLAMATION: $43.99
Hours passed. My weary body slept and roused. The cell door opened, and I watched the blocky shape of someone else shoved inside. I could not see who it was, or any detail of her face, but I could sense that she knew me. She quickly sat at my side, closer than I would have liked. Her hand found mine, and she grasped it and held it. I felt the vibration of her Cuff, charging her for the kindness.
Was it a friend? Her fingers were thin and cold. I stared at her through The Blocks, but I could not determine much. She did not say a word.
Not long after, the lights dimmed briefly and my vision cleared. The Blocks had disappeared, and I realized it was Sera Croate holding my hand.
I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. What was she doing here?
Sera began shaking her head. “Speth,” she said, releasing my fingers. Her Cuff didn’t buzz.
An older woman on the other side of me asked, “A FiDo? Of all places,” she whispered. “After all this time.”
Other faces in the cell lit up. A low chatter began.
The Blocks, the shocks—none of it worked without the WiFi. There hadn’t been a FiDo since Butchers & Rog had the network consolidated into a central core.
“I saw it,” Sera whispered. Her eyes filled with tears. “I didn’t know they were going to...” She choked on the words. “Those men...”
My hand balled into a fist. I wanted to slam her into the bars, but I did not move. She wiped her eyes.
“I tried to say something, but suddenly my Cuff went off, and my eyes...” She took a deep gulp of air. “I tried to tell them what really happened, but they just arrested me. I should have said nothing. I should have gone silent. Right? Is that what you all figured out?”
I didn’t know what she was talking about. I didn’t have any idea. I couldn’t focus on her words with all the contempt in my heart. She’d brought those men down on Sam.
“Yorda Silent Girl,” the older woman across the cell announced.
I stopped to breathe. Everyone knew my face. They all looked to me.
“Did you know going silent would turn everything upside down? Do you know what they are going to do tomorrow?”
“They’re gonna meet at Falxo Park,” Sera went on. “All of them.”
My eyes blazed at Sera. What the hell are you talking about?! my mind screamed at her. Did she not comprehend what she had done? Sam would be alive if not for her. I could never forgive her for just standing by.
“The Silents,” she said, undaunted by my glare. “Mandett is getting them to come. It’s his Last Day. I thought it was obnoxious—pointless—but now...I don’t know...”
Her brow was furrowed, and she watched me intently, like she was looking for me to say something.
“This is so awful,” she said pitifully. “Can’t you help them? Can’t you explain?”