Peri’s gut clenched as they forced Silas to sit at the bar beside Howard and Taf. Her past made her appear both guilty and untrustworthy, and her association with Silas wasn’t helping.
“Your actions show that your loyalty is to yourself,” Fran said, gesturing for security to bring Peri forward to take Silas’s place.
“Thinking for oneself does not imply disloyalty,” Silas said, but it was likely no one outside the room heard him. “She thought she was giving us the information we needed,” he added as Brian manhandled her forward. “She shouldn’t be standing before you justifying her actions. She should be in conference with you to bring Opti down!”
Pulse fast, Peri scrambled for a way to make this work for her. Clearly Silas hadn’t told them about the chemical tracker. Opti was likely on their way, to find out where she’d gone if nothing else. And Opti was coming. She could feel it—brewing just over the horizon like a summer storm.
“Enough,” Fran hissed. “Get her on camera.”
That man shoved her again. Peri had had enough, and she spun, arms jabbing out with a palm thrust to break his nose. Brian fell back, screaming and clutching his face. Peri froze, cuffed hands in the air as safeties clicked off, but Howard only laughed.
“Someone get Brian a towel,” Fran directed tiredly. “Can we move forward, please?”
“Peri, this isn’t how I wanted to do this.”
It was Silas, and Peri’s expression blanked. Someone else had said nearly the exact same thing to her—right before her world fell apart the first time. First chance she got, she was going to run and keep running. But she wouldn’t leave without Silas. He’d brought her back, given her something to build herself on. His own people were turning against him. She didn’t know which side was right, but she knew how that felt. The alliance and Opti could tear themselves apart for all she cared.
Finally they got Brian behind the bar with a pack of ice. The new agent at her side was more polite, and Peri smiled at his gesture for her to continue, putting a sway in her hips as she made her way to sit in front of the camera.
“Please state your name,” Fran said, though it was obvious everyone knew who she was.
“Peri Reed,” she said as she settled herself into the white cushions and the technician adjusted the camera.
“You’re here to account for your crimes done under the auspices of Opti,” Fran began, careful not to get her face on camera, “your actions against humanity, and your efforts to reduce the inherent rights of every citizen. If found guilty, you’ll be taken from here and permanently stripped of your ability to draft.”
Peri’s head snapped up. “I thought this was to discuss what I had to offer you in exchange for asylum.”
Fran’s thin lips pressed as she scrolled through a tablet. “You thought wrong. We’re going to make you normal, Peri Reed.”
“I am normal.” Peri glanced at Silas, whose expression mirrored the surprise and horror she knew were evident on her own features. “The only way to eliminate my ability to draft will leave me unable to make any long-term memories, and that’s if you do it right. Pardon my concern, but you can’t possibly possess the equipment or the finesse. You’ll make a vegetable out of me.”
Fran put on a pair of diamond-encrusted bifocals and brought her gaze back from the hazy mountains, thick with the coming rain. “Your actions carry their own sins. You’re accused of the murders of Hans Marston, James Thomas, Daniel H. Parsole, Kevin Arnold, Thomas Franklin, Nicole Amsterdam, and, most recently, Samuel Smity.”
Seven deaths, most of them probably people who’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time. It bothered Peri that she didn’t remember most of them. Taf had gone pale, and even Silas looked uncomfortable. “Hans beat his children and mutilated other men’s wives to convince their husbands to do what he wanted them to. I did the world a favor. Kevin Arnold was an accident. He didn’t move when I told him to, and someone shot him as he went over a fence. I don’t remember the rest,” Peri said, ignoring the rising murmur of outrage behind her. “You can’t try me for something you might have made up.”