Page 45 of The Flame

“What’s the rush?” he said as I climbed into the truck. “Daniel was only admitted last night. If we panic, that’s when things go wrong.”

Roman had always had more sympathy for Julian than me. I hadn’t wanted to break the news to him over the iComm.

“Drive,” I said. “We’ll talk on the way. I only have an hour for lunch.”

His gaze locked mine for a beat, then he slammed the truck into reverse. “Start talking.”

“Julian Edgar was released this morning but before you get excited, they’ve performed a procedure on him.” The words rushed out of me. “A laser lobotomy, I think they call it.”

His grip on the wheel tightened until his knuckles whitened. He didn’t look at me, kept his eyes trained on the road.

“I know I said we’d have two days once Daniel arrived at the rehab center, but I no longer trust that,” I went on. “We can’t risk it. If you’d seen Julian, you’d understand.”

“You saw him?” Roman’s voice was gravel, hard.

“Whatever they’ve done, it’s left him in the same state as Miriam.”

The air inside the cab chilled as we drove in silence, punching through the Quantum Zone and skirting the town square.

“Say it,” I said.

His jaw firmed, his profile set in granite. He still refused to look at me, and he wasn’t saying it.

“I got what I wanted,” I spat out bitterly. “I wanted Julian to suffer. I wanted to obliterate everything that made up the man. I hated him. I hate him. My insides roil with disgust and rage when I think of him, when I think of any of the councilmen.”

Roman’s gaze slid to me. He was looking at me now, seeing through my rant and straight to the heart of me. “I thought you didn’t give a damn about what happened to Julian Edgar. What has changed?”

“I don’t give a damn,” I said. “That’s the point.Idon’t give a damn. As far asI’mconcerned, Julian can spend the rest of his life walking through hell and then he can burn in it for eternity.”

His gaze bounced between me and the road. “I don’t get it.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have gotten what I wanted.” I turned my head from him, looking out the window. We were skirting the town square now. “I’m entitled to my feelings, Roman. I should be allowed to rage and hurt and hate. But, maybe, that doesn’t mean I should have the power to destroy a life just to fuel my own revenge. When I saw Julian, it didn’t feel right.”

When I saw Daniel’s pain, Iknewit wasn’t right.

“You don’t have that power.” Roman’s hand landed on my thigh. He waited until I rolled my head his way, until my eyes met his. “As much as you wanted it, this decision wasn’t yours.”

“No one person should have that power,” I said to him. “Especially not Geneva.”

He took his hand back, his attention on the road. “The wardens have a tribunal system. And in the old world, they had the jury system.”

“What’s a jury system?”

“If you were accused of a crime, you were given the opportunity to defend yourself. The jury was a panel of twelve impartial people, brought in from all walks of life. They heard both sides of the story, weighed all the evidence and made the final decision.”

“Geneva would never allow that,” I muttered.

Daniel hadn’t even committed any crime. He was a potential threat, some elusive danger that had to be contained at all costs. The council weren’t any better. Replace Daniel with women in general. We were a necessarily evil to be monitored and leashed in the name of the greater good.

“That’s why they also had an elected government in the old world,” Roman said.

Old world politics was a vague concept to me. That wasn’t the kind of talk encouraged in Capra, and especially not in female circles. “How exactly did that work? Who elected the government?”

“The people.” Roman glanced at me. “The citizens of the country voted on who to put in power, and held them accountable. And every five or so years, they could change their minds and elect someone else.”

That didn’t make sense. “But if someone was in power, why would they just step down voluntarily when the people changed their minds?”

Roman took his time to formulate a response as we approached Parklands. The barrier was raised, the guard house standing as empty as the many vacated council homes.

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