“Apologize, then,” he said.
“Sir!” They repeated yet again. “I am a disgrace to the honor of this uniform.” He remembered the excuse the guard had given back at the Grants’ house. “I was subduing a prisoner who had no proper respect for Population Police authority. I know it is no excuse, but that is why my uniform is ripped and I am covered in mud. And I lost my cap. I am deeply ashamed to appear before you like this.”
“Indeed,” the man said. But he was smiling now. “I wish the guards in my unit shared your concerns. You did succeed in subduing the prisoner, though?”
“Yes, sir,” Trey said. On the theory that a smidgen of truth strengthened any lie, he added, “I broke his leg, sir. I believe he may be on the verge of death.”
“Well done,” the man said.
Trey barely managed not to gag with revulsion at that How could this man care so much about spit-polished shoes and so little about a human life?
The man glanced out the window, to where Mark sat in chains.
‘This prisoner is being transferred into my jurisdiction?” he asked.
“No, sir,” Trey said. His arm was beginning to ache from saluting for so long, but he kept it in position. “I am picking up one of your prisoners and taking both of them on to Churko.”
The warden motioned for Trey to give him the paperwork. He looked through the papers, seeming to read each one carefully.
“You’re taking prisoners from Slahood as well? That’s odd…,“ he murmured.
“I’m only following orders, sir!” Trey said, hoping to distract him.
The warden narrowed his eyes, looking straight at Trey. Trey worried that he had carried his act too far. He’d been trying to behave like a groveling flunky had in a military book he’d once read. How did he know how Population Police officials talked in real life?
Then the warden said, “I like your attitude, young man. Are you a new recruit?”
Just in case the warden had some way of checking, Trey told the truth.
“Yes, sir! I joined up yesterday, sir!” Had it only been yesterday that he’d stood in that long line at the Grant house? It seemed many, many lifetimes ago.
“The new recruits I’ve been sent lack your enthusiasm for our cause. They seem most concerned about eating,” the warden sneered. It seemed like an unfair gibe, considering that the warden must have weighed more than two hundred and fifty pounds — he’d obviously spent a lot of time himself being concerned about eating. “Any chance I could have you transferred to my unit?”
Oh, great, Trey thought. I’ve played my part too well.
“Sir?” Trey said cautiously. “I would not want to be disloyal to my current commander. I must finish my assignment before I could think of being transferred.”
“Of course,” the warden said. “I should have known you’d have that response.” He tidied Trey’s papers into a single stack. “Here’s what I’ll do. I’ll have one of my guards go pick up the prisoners from Slahood right now. That will save you quite a bit of time. I’ll have another guard retrieve prisoner”—he glanced down at Trey’s forms— “prisoner 908653 from cell block three here at Nezeree. And I’ll have a fresh uniform sent up for you to change into while you’re waiting.” The warden barked a few short commands into an intercom on his desk, and it was all set in motion.
“Thank you, sir,” Trey said, unable to believe his good luck
“And the prisoner in the truck,” the warden said. “I’ll write up an order to have him shot right now.”
“What?” The luxurious room seemed to be spinning slightly. Surely Trey hadn’t heard the warden properly. Surely his brilliant lies hadn’t led to this.
“For attacking a Population Police officer,” the warden said casually “It’s a capital offense, you know.”
And he reached for a pen.
Chapter Thirty
The room was truly spinning now. Mark was the one being sentenced to death, but it was Trey whose life flashed before his eyes. How could he have done this? How could he have rescued Mark — twice — only to see him killed here, now, just as he was about to be reunited with his brother?
“No!” Trey exploded.
“What did you just say to me?” the warden asked, his pen hesitating over the paper.
“I mean, ‘No, sir' I mean—” Trey scrambled to think “The prisoner certainly deserves to die. Not because he attacked me, but because he showed no respect for me, as an officer of the Population Police. Still… the warden at Churko has personal reasons for wanting to… to torture this particular prisoner. And for wanting to oversee his death himself.”
‘Ah,” the warden said. He seemed to be considering. “I see.” He reached for a different paper from one of the stacks on his desk. “Then I’ll order that our infirmary sets his leg and gives him medicine. So that he lives long enough for my colleague at Churko to see him tortured.”
Trey watched in awe as the warden scribbled out an order and summoned an underling over the intercom on his desk.
What kind of person is willing to kill or save a boy’s life on a whim, just like that? Trey wondered. What kind of government allows someone to have that kind of power, all by himself?
A uniformed guard showed up at the door and entered without speaking. The warden looked at him disapprovingly
“Nedley, drive this man’s vehicle over to the infirmary and have his prisoner treated there,” the warden said. “Officer Jackson, you can give him your keys.”
“I–I feel responsible for the prisoner, sir,” Trey said. “I’ll drive him there myself, if you just tell me where to go.”
“Oh, no,” the warden said. “Son, you need to learn about chain of command. Mark my words, you’re going to advance high up in the Population Police, and you need to learn to delegate. Nedley — do as I say!”
Trey saw no choice but to hold the keys out to the silent Nedley.
What’s going to happen when they discover that Mark isn’t really chained up? Trey wondered. What if this is all a trick? What’s Mark going to do when this strange officer climbs into the truck?
But that last worry, at least, proved unnecessary Trey glanced out the window and could see: Mark appeared to have passed out from the pain once again.
“Oh, and Nedley?” the warden was continuing. “Gas up his vehicle before you bring it back.”
“Yes, sir,” Nedley said in a dispirited voice.
Trey watched anxiously as Nedley climbed into the truck, started it, and pulled away. The warden misread Trey’s concern.
“So good to see a young recruit taking his responsibilities seriously,” the warden mumbled. “I will request that you be transferred here after you deliver your prisoners to Churko. This is a much more prestigious posting. See this phone here?” He pointed to a dark, heavy phone that seemed to occupy a place of honor in the center of his spotless desk. “I’ve got a direct, secure line that goes straight to Population Police headquarters. I’m talking to the highest-level officials constantly Out at Churko — bahl I bet half the time headquarters forgets they’re there.”
“Your status is impressive, sir,” Trey said politely, though he was distracted worrying about Mark, worrying about Lee and the others, worrying about the mysterious prisoner he was supposed to take back to the guard at Population Police headquarters.
We don’t need that prisoner to trade for the key to Mark’s cage anymore, They realized with a jolt If I can get all of us out of here safely, what should we do with the extra prisoner? Leave him by the side of the road for the mobs to attack?