I wanted to scream. I wanted to twist around and hit Kondo. I wanted to reach out and grab that bonsai with my talent and twist it into a weapon. But the null cuffs prevented me. I would settle for hitting something.
Fulbright watched me.
I would settle for hitting nothing. Ending up in the control unit wouldn’t do me any good.
“Thank you, ma’am,” I said.
She went back around her desk and sat, steepling her fingers on the desktop and resting her chin on her fingertips. She motioned at Kondo. The C.O. released me, stepped away.
Fulbright pursed her lips, considering something.
“There is something you could do,” the warden said. “All it takes is eyes and ears.”
An ugly suspicion came to me. No, I thought. No. No way. I wasn’t snitching. Not for anything. Besides, they had cameras. They didn’t need me.
“Let this office know if you see anything out of line.” She paused. “Or hear anything out of line.”
I held my tongue.
Fulbright gave me a cold smile. “It’s simple enough. Just slip a note to any C.O.”
I remained silent.
“If that’s too difficult at the time, just find a camera, doesn’t have to be the one in your cell, and nod at it, four times. The C.O. will arrange for you to report to this office. Quietly. No inmate will know. Such reporting might well change your circumstances here.” She paused. “Not reporting might extend your blackout.”
I jerked my head up. Kondo laughed softly behind me. The
I didn’t say a word.
Fulbright stared at me until I looked down at my hands, rubbed at the skin on my right wrist just below the null cuff, my reflection a dull smudge in the metal.
Fulbright spun her chair to look out the window. “Remember, you have the power of choice, even in this facility. Consider that carefully.” She made a dismissive gesture with her hand and Kondo motioned for me to walk ahead of her and out the warden’s office.
The next morning I sat by myself in the cafeteria, poking at the artificial eggs and tofu sausages.
“Y’all don’t mind if I join you, do you?” Lenore took the spot opposite me, slid her food-laden tray on the table. It looked like her plate had the same eggs and tofu sausages as mine, and just like mine, no oatmeal. The oatmeal served at special corrections could be used to patch a highway.
I shrugged and continued to pick at the fake eggs. I should eat, but I didn’t have an appetite. I was just going through the motions.
Lenore took a bite of her eggs, gave me a long look.
“You didn’t let things lie, did you?
“Don’t know what you mean.” I speared a tofu sausage, sniffed it, and laid it back down again.
Lenore took a drink of her coffee. The prison “brew” was vile, but Lenore didn’t seem to mind.
She pointed her fork at me. “Girl, fess up. You went to the warden, didn’t you?”
I could swear she was a mind reader. I didn’t know what her power had been. She would have been a nasty rogue Empowered, but I had no idea what she’d been. She had never said. “It don’t matter,” she had told me once. “In here we’re all just prisoners.” She had said it in that matter-of-fact way of the lifer she said about anything she couldn’t change.
My eighteenth birthday was next month. My life was right now. A lifetime of nows spent in Special Corrections didn’t bear thinking about.
I stared at the mess I’d made poking at the scrambled eggs on my plate. “I had to.”
She shook her head. “Warden denied your request.” It was a statement, not a question, like a teacher correcting a math screwup. Just laying out the facts, that this is the way the universe works.
“Yeah,” I said in a low voice.
“What did you expect?”
I lifted my head. “I need to know.”
“Y’all keep saying that, but you can’t, not now. You might find out in three months.”
“If my blackout gets lifted. And even then I might not be able to find out. ”
“And you think the folks behind this mystery note really know anything? She cocked her head to one side. “Really.”
I clenched my jaw. “Maybe,” I said through my teeth.
“Why don’t you think your blackout will get lifted?” she asked.
“Just do,” I whispered.
“I see,” Lenore said.
“See what?” My face grew hot. “What do you see?”
“You don’t calm down, this conversation is over,” Lenore said.
I took a long breath, let it linger in my chest and belly, like Lenore had taught me. “Sorry.”
“Better. Warden made you an offer, didn’t she?”
I hesitated, then nodded slightly.
“Did you take it?”
I pushed one of my tofu sausages around my plate with my fork.
“No.”
“Did you tell her no?”
I shook my head. I should have said no to the warden when she asked, but something had held me back.
Lenore smiled. “Good. No reason to make yourself a target.”
“But I should have,” I said.
Lenore sipped her coffee. “Actions are what count.” She leaned forward, her voice quiet. “Cameras can’t hear. Law says no audio bugs, even for Meta prisoners. And the C.O. can’t be everywhere. So they need snitches.”
“I’m no snitch.” I’d never be a snitch, no matter what.
“Then don’t snitch.”
“I wanted to break something.”
“Don’t be stupid. You can be out when you turn twenty-one.”
If the state granted parole.
I clenched my fork. “That’s three years from now.” All the tension and worry was back. My shoulder muscles felt rock hard. “Three years from now might as well be forever.”
Lenore pursed her lips. “What do you know about forever?”
“Sorry.” I swallowed. “I still need to find out if Ruth is okay. Now.”
“And then what?” Lenore leaned back in her chair. “Who are you going to call? You told me you got no other family.” She raised an eyebrow. “You wouldn’t be so foolish as to try and reach some of your gang friends, would you?”
“I don’t have any friends left.” My voice was tight with anger. All my friends from the Renegades had died when we were captured. I felt my face tighten at the memory. I slammed down the fork. “It’s just me.”
A guard looked in my direction.
Lenore motioned at me. “Calm down, Mathilda.”
“I have to do something.”
She nodded. “You’re right. You do. And what you decide to do is up to you.” She got up. “Just remember, actions have consequences. Always.”
I had nothing but nightmares after my meeting with the warden. I kept dreaming about Ruth, wondering if the message in the bottle was true. During the day, working in the factory, sewing clothes, I’d think about how she’d taught me how to sew by hand.
Also I kept thinking about the warden’s offer. I wasn’t a snitch. But the warden had dangled a way for me to find out about truth about Ruth’s situation.
I hadn’t lost my gardening privileges. Fulbright had given me that much.
Lenore offered me a little stash of natural pesticide in a bottle she had. She gave me it to me when I agreed to work out with her in the yard every day.
A week after my meeting with the Warden I was watering the withered tomato plants when Tricksie showed up outside the chain-linked fence that blocked off my tiny garden plot from the rest of the yard.
Tricksie barely came up to my chin, but she was all toned muscle. Her close-cropped hair was dyed bright pink. She was a bully; like I said, we’d fought a few times. I wanted to punch her, but instead I ignored her.
She folded her arms and watched while I sprinkled water with the old green watering can.
“How long have you been inside, Mathilda?” Her eyes held an earnest look. Usually she looked
at me like I was some sort of bug.
“You know the answer.”
“How long?” Tricksie looked like she really wanted to know.
“Almost two years.” One year, eleven months, three days.
“Long enough,” Tricksie said. A line of birds approached the nearby prison wall. The klaxons shrieked a warning that echoed from wall to wall. All but one bird swerved away. The one bird that didn’t swerve hit the force dome with a loud crackle-snap.
My breath caught. The bird spasmed and fell in a tangle of wings, disappeared behind the permacrete wall. Live, I thought.
“We’re like that flock,” Tricksie said. “Once in a while one of us tries to escape, and disappears.”
A tear gathered in my left eye. I blinked it away.
She ran her fingers along the chain-links. “I’ve been here almost five years, since I was nineteen.”
“That’s sad,” I said, not hiding my sarcasm.
I sprinkled the last of the water on the sickest plant.
“I’m telling you you aren’t alone.”
Right, now Tricksie was my new best friend. I didn’t buy that for a second.
Tricksie pointed at the withered vines. “Why don’t you just let them die? You wouldn’t have to waste your time, and you’d have a little extra water to drink yourself.”
I didn’t answer.
She leaned against the fence. “I heard about your grandmother. That’s rough.”
I didn’t want Tricksie mocking my problems. I shrugged, trying not to show how I felt. “It happens.”
“I mean it,” she said. She looked like she meant it, but in here you could never count on anyone being straight with you. You never knew if another inmate really meant the concern they claimed to have for your “situation.”
“Okay. How did you learn?” I asked. Maybe she was on the one behind the note, but taunting you to your face was normally her style, not hiding notes for you to find.
She glanced over at the guards walking the perimeter. “I found out.”
“Found out?” I asked. “Just like that.”
“The grapevine,” she said.
Figures. I shrugged. “Whatever.”
“Don’t you want to know more? I could find out for you.”
“No thanks.” Her bullshit concern was a joke. I wasn’t buying.
Her face took on a mean look. “I’m offering, and you tell me to fuck off?”
I stood, feet apart, arms loose at my side. I didn’t want to fight, but I wasn’t about to let her buffalo me. “Yeah, I’m telling you to fuck off.”
She spat. “Stupid cow,” she said. “Sit and stew, not knowing whether your grandmother is alive or dead.” Tricksie’s look would have made a C.O. reach for her stunner, but I glared right back. She turned and stomped off. I was fine with sharing my anger. It would serve her right if her afternoon was ruined.
The next day I learned I’d received fifty infraction points, extending my blackout status for another six weeks. Now I had to wait four-and-a-half months for news from the outside. Fitz was the C.O. who brought the news, a leering smile on her face when she told me. “Shouldn’t read messages in a bottle,” she said and chuckled.
But the warden had told me she was going to overlook the bottle.
After I finished my work shift, sewing shirts, I went to exercise with Lenore. Today it was pull-ups, chin-ups, dips, and hanging crunches until my abs wanted to burst. I told her about the infractions.
“This is why you don’t go to the warden. Ever.”
I wanted Lenore’s sympathy, but she only doled out matter-of-fact observation.
“Thanks a lot,” I said.
Her face darkened. “Y’all listen, and listen but good. You have a decision to make about being inside. About which way you want to go.”
“Which is?” I was out of patience.
Lenore didn’t flinch from my glare. She never did. After a long moment she snorted. “Figure it out yourself.”
The day after, I was sweating over my tomatoes when Tricksie showed up again. I had been giving more water to the three dying the fastest. It hadn’t seemed to help, and now the other three were looking browner. I’d been tight with the natural pesticide, and the aphids had diminished in number, but hadn’t gone away completely. Water. Fertilizer. Patience. I didn’t have enough of anything. Didn’t matter. I still wasn’t quitting on them.
Tricksie leaned against the fence. “Hey, Mat, I’m sorry about the other day. Really. I was out of line.” She came around the fence and knelt beside me. If she didn’t have gardening privileges, she could get in trouble. Guess that was up to her.
“Your plants are doing worse.”
“No shit.” I gave her a hard look. Normally she had given it back to me double, and we’d be close to a nasty fight. Not that there was any other kind in here. But she surprised me by not glaring back.
“Listen, things can be different.” Her voice was quiet.
“How?” My heart beat fast.
“I have a way out,” she whispered.
My heart beat a rapid tattoo. This was bullshit, but she said it with such un-Tricksie-like honesty, like she was finally showing me the real person underneath the bully.
I narrowed my eyes. “A way out. You mean escape from Special Corrections?”
“I knew you’d be interested.” She leaned even closer. “We’ve got some outside help lined up.”
A breakout. Word was it been eleven years since the last attempt, and that was in the men’s wing. It ended badly for the inmates that tried to escape. “That will bring the Heroes Council down like God’s own hammer.”
She snorted “What’s God have to do with this, Mathilda? Escaping is up to us.”
“Why ask me?”
She laughed. “Because Warden’s goons wouldn’t think I’d go to you.”
That was for sure. Everyone knew we hated each other. This whole conversation was freaking weird.
I brushed withered tomato leaves with the natural pesticide Lenore had given me. “Someone breaks out of here, they’ll be hunted for life.”
“We’ll break the whole prison out. They can’t hunt all of us down.”
“We leave like this, we will be on the run forever,” I said. Why trust me? I could go straight to the warden and rat Tricksie out. I’d get some favors for that.
She shook her head. Her close-cropped pink hair shone in the sunlight. “We could change things.”
I drew a sharp breath. This didn’t make sense.
She gestured at the towering prison walls. “You don’t like being here anymore than me. Like I said, we know your grandma is sick, and there’s no one to help your sisters. Get out and you can get money to give to them.”
The sweat trickling into my mouth tasted sour. “It’s not that easy.” How did Tricksie know about my sisters?
She pointed at one of the plants. This one was even scrawnier than the other with only a few tomatoes. “If you had your powers back, restoring that plant would be a snap.”
I shrugged. “I could control plants, Tricksie. Not move mountains or fly.” Everyone inside seemed to know about my power, because I hadn’t kept my mouth shut. But I hadn’t told her about my family. Only Leonore, and Leonore wouldn’t tell the likes of Tricksie.
“There’s a lot you could do with plants, Vine.”
I froze. My old name, the one I had when I was in the Renegades. How did she know I’d been called that? Tanya had given me that name, and now she was dead. They were all dead. And nicknames were stupid.
“I’m Mat,” I said, the reflex kicking in without a thought. “Mathilda Brandt.”
Tricksie leaned in closer, until her nose practically touched mine. “You were Vine. You could be again.”
She smelled fresh, not sweaty, with a faint hint of vanilla. We weren’t allowed any perfume inside. How did she rate perfume? No inmate wore perfume. Ever. What was she doing wearing perfume?
“Just call me Mat,” I said.
She ignored that. “There’s some very expensive and rare pharmies that come from certain hard-to-grow plants.” She grinned. “For instance, you could make a fortune from creating the nightshade tulip.” That wasn’t how the Tricksie I knew would put it. It was someone else’s words, and Tricksie was using them to sound reasonable, and smart.
The nightshade tulip wasn’t just illegal. Trafficking in the waking dream drug was a minimum twenty-year ticket, on top of whatever else the court gave you.
I finished watering the plants while Tricksie watched me.
“Well?” she said when I put the can down.
A big flock of starlings darted above the force dome, probably picking off gnats confused by flying too close to the electromagnetic barrier.
“No,” I said.
Tricksie’s face darkened suddenly, like a gathering storm cloud. She balled her fists. “I thought you wanted to help your grandmother.”
“I do.” I didn’t blink. “But there’s nothing I can do.”
She leaned in close.
I itched to shover her away, but didn’t.
A nasty edge came into her voice. “You think about this hard. Real hard. We’ll talk again.”
I could go to the warden. Squeal. The warden would like that. I’d become her pigeon. I’d be a puppet. Dancing to whatever she wanted me to. I wanted to keep my freedom, even if that freedom was just choosing not to do cowardly bullshit-stoolie stuff like Tricksie and Fulbright wanted me to.
“I don’t have to think about this. The answer is no.” I lifted my chin and looked down at her. “Find another patsy for your scheme.”
She blinked. “Really? You just going to blow this off?
I smiled coldly. “Yeah. I am.”
She stared at me. “You going to squeal?”
“No. I’m keeping my mouth shut. Just leave me the hell alone.”
Her face hardened. “You’d better,” she said and stalked off. I watched her leave the garden and cross the yard, striding through the middle of a volleyball game. She disappeared inside.
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