“Vice Chancellor,” Clarke said, not bothering to try to hide her disdain. “How can I help you?”
“Clarke, this doesn’t concern you. We’re here about Bellamy Blake.” He brushed against her shoulder as he stepped past her and farther into the room. Clarke clenched her hands into fists, her fingernails digging hard into her palms. The blood ran hot in her veins, and she had to take a couple of quick breaths to make sure she didn’t do something she’d regret. As corrupt and immoral as Rhodes was, he was also dangerous. Her parents had learned that the hard way.
Clarke watched as Rhodes approached Bellamy, who was, mercifully, asleep. The Vice Chancellor studied him for a moment, then turned and stepped briskly toward the door again. As he passed his guards, he spoke without looking at them. “Put the prisoner in solitary confinement until his trial.”
“Sir,” ventured one of the guards, “where will we keep him?”
Rhodes stopped and spun slowly to look at him with narrowed eyes. “Figure it out,” he snapped before disappearing through the door.
“Yes, sir,” the guard said to Rhodes’s retreating back.
Clarke’s stomach did a slow turn as she recognized the voice. It was Scott. She looked up to see him staring at Bellamy, his face unreadable. Normally the sight of his blotchy skin and watery eyes made her want to take a long, hot shower. But this time, she didn’t feel her usual revulsion. This time she felt more hope than disdain, because Scott had given her an idea. No one—especially not Vice Chancellor Rhodes—was going to hurt Bellamy. Clarke would see to that.
CHAPTER 9
Glass
Glass knew she was lucky to be on Earth, but a part of her wondered if she’d have fought quite so hard to get here if she’d known she was going to spend the rest of her life peeing in the woods. Glass stepped out of the tiny shed, which really wasn’t much more than a lean-to with a tree as the fourth wall, and headed back toward camp. At least, she thought she was heading toward camp. All the trees looked the same, and she was still getting her bearings.
The distant sound of voices reassured her she was getting closer. She stepped into the clearing, reluctantly leaving behind the comforting quiet of the woods. Glass stopped in her tracks, suddenly disoriented. She wasn’t in the right place. She was used to arriving between the infirmary and the supply cabins, but somehow she had ended up on the opposite side of the camp, near one of the new dormitory-like structures that was going up. She sighed at her own miscalculation, making a mental note to be more careful next time. Luke had already lectured her several times about staying alert and not going off into the woods alone. But he was working all the time, and Glass wasn’t comfortable enough with anyone else in camp to ask them to come with her to the bathroom.
Glass rounded the construction site and came up behind two men talking in low voices near the tree line. They were engrossed in conversation and didn’t seem to notice she was there. She stopped, unsure whether to alert them to her presence, stay still until they were done, or just keep walking past them. Before she had a chance to decide, she realized that one of the men was familiar—it was Vice Chancellor Rhodes.
Glass froze as her brain unleashed a storm of conflicting emotions. Something about him had always made Glass’s skin prickle, and watching him order his guards to shoot Bellamy certainly hadn’t helped matters. Yet at the same time, he was the reason Glass was alive. When he’d spotted Glass and her mother in the crush of people trying in vain to make their way to the dropships, he’d swept them along with his entourage and secured them the final two seats.
Glass hadn’t been near enough to Rhodes to speak to him since that moment, but now a thousand unspoken questions bubbled up in her throat. Why had he helped them? What was his relationship with her mother? Had she spoken of how much Glass had disappointed her, back on the Colony?
The Vice Chancellor’s voice snapped Glass out of her thoughts. “We’ll hold the trial in the center of camp. Make sure everyone knows attendance is mandatory. I want them to see up close that treason or self-serving treachery of any kind will not be tolerated.”
Glass stifled a gasp. He was talking about Bellamy.
“Yes, sir,” said the other man, who wore a ripped and dirt-dusted officer’s uniform. Glass recognized him as the Vice Chancellor’s second-in-command, Burnett—the man who had grabbed her arm and pulled Glass and her mother to safety on the launch deck. “And have you thought about where we will house him long-term if his sentence is Confinement?”
Rhodes let out a harsh, dry laugh. “Confinement? There’s only one outcome to this trial, and I assure you, it is not Confinement.”
Burnett nodded. “I see.”
“You and I will sit on the Council, as will a couple of the elder Phoenicians who came down with us,” Rhodes continued. “I’ve already spoken to them. They understand what they need to do. We will execute the prisoner, which should serve as a clear reminder to all that maintaining order here on Earth is just as important—indeed, more so—than it was on the Colony.”
“I understand, sir. But as to the logistics. We can’t exactly float the prisoner down here. How would you like to handle the execution? We have firearms, but…” Burnett hesitated for only the briefest of moments. “Will you pull the trigger yourself?”
Glass shut her eyes as a wave of nausea crashed over her. She couldn’t believe her ears. They were talking about executing Bellamy in the same off-hand manner they might have used to discuss electricity rations or an upcoming Remembrance Day celebration.