Page 87 of Forged Absolution (Fates of the Bound 4)

“Excellent.”

Be my chief?

“I thought you’d never ask.” Lila leaned across the table and kissed him noisily on the cheek.

A knock sounded upon the door.

Connell offered a small bow as Lila answered it. “Good after— What happened to your face?”

Lila touched her scraped forehead, her eyes flickering to Dixon.

She recounted the attack while Dixon cleaned up their breakfast dishes.

Connell punched out a message on his palm. “I’ll inform Dr. McCrae. I want her to take a look at you. In the meantime, you’ll need a new palm. Kara will have one ready for you by lunch. Any idea who could have been behind the attack?”

Lila did not want to share her thoughts until she had evidence of her suspicions. Someone had wanted to search her car and her palm, perhaps taking her out once they had finished. They’d hunted her, knowing exactly where she would be.

Only a few people knew that she had an appointment with Helen that morning.

Only Connell, Kenna, and a passed-out oracle had heard her mention it.

To Nico.

“Let’s get you to your translator.” Connell frowned when she said nothing more. “Dr. McCrae will meet us there. I’ll have her check you out before we start.”

“No. After. I want answers.”

Lila gathered up her tablet and satchel. The group left the cabin and trudged across the compound, stopping before a squat, one-story brick building, with four wings extending a hundred meters in each direction like a plus sign.

Connell approached a door at the end of a wing and slid a plastic card through a reader.

Their boots clicked against the tile in the entryway as they ducked inside. They found themselves in the middle of a lounge. A few screens and couches had been piled on one side. A pool table sat on the other. A mixed group of off-duty militia and office workers argued around it, sticks in hand. A hundred credits sat in the corner underneath a lump of chalk.

Connell nodded as they greeted him, the game forgotten as they peered at the outsiders.

The chief did not explain himself. He led Lila and Dixon down the hall, a strip of fluorescent lights buzzing faintly overhead, highlighting the pure white walls and a corridor filled with doors.

“So, this is your security office.” Lila peeked through the windows cut into each door. Beds and furniture gave way to desks and office equipment as they moved closer to the center.

“I suppose you could call it that. We prefer our militia to stay with their own families, but some of our younger members like to have their own places when they come of age. Other times, people just need a few days away from home so that their loved ones remain their loved ones. We have communal lounges on the end of each wing and break areas. It all helps with security, especially when we have prisoners. No one can enter or leave this building without going past several pairs of eyes.”

“You arrest your own, then? I’d always heard differently.”

“We use the old ways to deal with rule breakers: communal labor, counseling, and a great deal of time volunteering with our elderly. Most people just need someone to listen. Others need to learn to wisdom and patience. Offenders need to compensate those they’ve wronged, not scrub pans as a slave. They don’t need a chip in their neck as a leash, either.”

“It’s funny you should say that. The slavery system was predicated on the old ways, compensation chief among them. The only difference is that we outsource that compensation to other families now.”

“We never sold anyone in the tribe, nor made slaves of them. Only outsiders. Granted, ‘outsiders’ had a different connotation then. You people have bastardized the concepts of slavery and compensation over the centuries.”

“So what happens when your rule breakers don’t learn their lessons? What happens when they reoffend?”

“If they reoffend, then we erred in releasing them too early. They repeat their sentence until they learn their lesson. Sometimes they’re taken to other compounds for a fresh start.”

“Sounds easy.”

“How many monsters do you know, Lila? Everyone has reasons for doing the things they do, even if it’s boredom. I’ve only known two people in my entire life who could never be made right, no matter how much time and effort you put into them. We had to deal with them in a different way.”

“How?”

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