Chapter Seven
Octavia
I’m about to head to my job assignment with the Deacon. It had taken me eighteen months to get this position, given that in it, I get access to a computer. However, it’s a ghost anyway, connected to nothing. Regardless, I enjoy the secretarial work.
But when the doors swing open and we all step out for inspection, I hear two guards in the hallway. My stomach falls. That’s not normal.
“Grab your stuff, Stewart,” one says before he’s even in front of me.
I ask without thought, “Why?”
He glares, hand going to rest on the handle of his baton. “You don’t ask questions around here.”
I sigh, and turn, hoping my lawyer got me moved to a lower security prison when the guard adds, “Alien cocksleeve.”
My heart, and feet, freeze.
“C’mon,” Bridget mutters from beside me, “Don’t get in trouble.”
I mechanically gather my few belongings. New prison. Lower security, I tell myself robotically.
When the guard leads me to the front, my steps slow. I see my lawyer, Matthew, on the other side of the plexiglass and metal detector.
“What...” I start to ask, the moment I’m through.
“Congratulations!” Matthew chirps. He grins, “Ready to leave Earth?”
Oh no. No, no, no.
I shake my head, unbelieving. I start to back up as I protest. “No, no way, I can’t—”
The guards grab my arms and hold me up, which is good, since my legs have given way.
My lips move soundlessly. No. No.
The bright sunlight hits me as I am dragged out, Michael behind me protesting my rough treatment.
My eyes close, but then snap open.
This might be the last time I see it. Our star. Our sky.
I cannot do this.