Dust

XLIX

         

I didn't sleep, and for more than one reason.

    One reason, of course, is that I can't believe I hadn't made the connection between the Commission's vampire-manufacturing business and Gael, and that he didn't tell me as soon as he realized it. The second is that I still have no idea what I'm going to do with the information. To tell President Hersch or not to tell President Hersch, that is the question. Then, the third is the fact that I am locked in a cell with no bed and no blanket. I practically froze last night.

    Despite the lack of sleep, my nerves are buzzing and I have a strange energy flowing through my veins. It's not like I don't know the source of it, either; Hersch's words keep echoing in my head, over and over. Things will go very, very differently if you don't oblige. What did she mean by that? And, most of all, how much longer do I have before I find the answer to that question?

    I want Gael back. I want to talk to him again. Surely he can't be handling all of this as well as he seems to be; he narrowly avoided becoming a vampire, losing all memories of his past along with his heartbeat. That's not something that just happens everyday...Why is it that it only seems to be a big deal to me?

    I'm startled as I hear the clicking of my cell door opening. Santos stands, alone, in the frame, hands in his pockets and his chin lifted, a silhouette. "Hope you slept well. Now, get up. It's time for President Hersch to see you."

    Oh, God.

    I suddenly want to disappear.

    Nevertheless, since I want to get this over with, I get to my feet and present my handcuffs to Santos. He grunts under his breath and inserts the key, freeing me and hanging the cuffs on his belt. Then, he slides the door shut and begins to escort me upstairs.

    Santos and I are outside Hersch's door within five minutes; he reaches to open it and follows me inside.

    President Hersch is without her cigar this time around, and is simply sitting in one of her chairs, looking apathetic. Her eyes light up when she sees us, and she points to the floor in front of me. "Have her kneel there," she says automatically, and Santos kicks my knees from behind; they buckle underneath me, and I fall forward with a grimace.

    I hear the clack of Hersch's heels before I see her full form, her bob pulled back to a neat bun at the nape of her neck as she sports a women's suit. Tiny wrinkles of age are haphazardly covered by gobs of liquid foundation, lending her face an almost spongy appeal. Somehow this makes her all the more terrifying. "I have a plan for today," she says, looking down at me through black eyelashes coated thickly with mascara, "but I may not have to go through with it. That is, if you be a good girl and tell me what your friend told you on his visit yesterday."

    My cheeks heat. Of course she would know that Gael came to see me; how could she not? "It was nothing," I say. "He asked me what I was in here for, but I didn't tell him anything, and he told me he was going to be waiting when you let me free. That's it. That's all he said."

    "Is it?" Hersch's eyes narrow as she bends so that her gaze is level with mine; in this light, they look less green and more gray, still studious and cold. I feel her slim fingers grapple around my chin. "We're going to try this again, Miss Armistead. What did he tell you, huh? What do you insist on refusing to tell me? I'm not stupid. I can tell you know more than you say."

    I search her face, so desperate. Maybe a vengeful part of me wants her to suffer through that despair, for the way she's treated Shi and me, but most of me is simply devoted to keeping my nation safe. Gael doesn't get it. I can't tell her. I know what she'll do if I do, and I'm not letting Maris dissolve at her hands. "I've said it, and I'll say it again: I don't know anything."