Rebellion by Mikhaeyla Kopievsky

Author:Mikhaeyla Kopievsky [Kopievsky, Mikhaeyla]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780995421813
Publisher: Kyrija

Thirty-Three

Anaiya rubs at her wristplate in nervous irritation.

In the end, Niamh had let her go. What else could he do? But in letting her go, he had not made her free.

“You’ll never be a Peacekeeper again.” Niamh’s words are not unexpected, but they still sting. “But you won’t end up on the Execution Pillar. Not for this.”

The Water Technician fiddles with her wristplate, the metal cuff twisting on her wrist and sending jolts of pain up her arm as the fine needles that channel below her skin are pulled with it.

She doesn’t make a sound or pull away; just stares at Niamh, silently wishing all kinds of evil things to befall him.

Another tug at her wrist, another jolt of pain, and she turns her glare to the Technician. He keeps his head down, unravelling the lifeline from his own wristplate and plugging it into hers.

The glass panel lights up with an unfamiliar diagnostic screen. The Technician swipes and taps away, flicking between screens. Most of them contain lines of indecipherable code, but the final screen is a list of four coordinates. She squints to see them around the flashing of the Technician’s hands, but the screen disappears only to be replaced by new lines of code.

The Technician finally ejects his lifeline. The pain in Anaiya’s wrist subsides, but still she rubs at it – hating the violation of her wristplate being accessed more than the remaining twinges.

But the real insult is yet to come.

When the Technician’s hands reach for her lifeline, her instincts kick in and she immediately moves into the standard disabling move. Rotating her arm, she turns her hand towards herself, brings it up and the Technician’s with it.

It all happens in the space of a few seconds. She sees his eyes widen, his lips part. The fear and surprise is clear on his face, but strangely she takes no satisfaction from it.

That realisation gives her pause. She drops his hand and takes a step back.

“Anaiya.” Niamh’s voice grates along her already frayed nerves. “Submit or be Restrained.”

She can’t help herself; she turns her glare, full of hatred and promised retribution, on Niamh. It matters nought to him – he blinks it away like any career Peacekeeper would a Trainee’s bravado.

Gritting her teeth, she steps back towards the Technician and holds her wrist out. She closes her eyes as he unravels the lifeline, hating every scrape of metal links against her wristplate. Only when the line pulls tight does she open her eyes.

The Technician stands in front of her. Her lifeline taut between her wrist and his ear. Rage and humiliation surge through her core and she fights with every instinct to not rip it back and run.

Her stomach churns, bile rising. She bites down on her tongue, and looks away, even as every fibre of her body screams to do something to escape this nightmare. Anything.

Finally, he ejects her lifeline. She yanks it from his grasp and wipes at it furiously with the sleeve of her shirt, taking no comfort as the metal links shimmer as the line coils back around her wristcuff.

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