Read GLAZE for Free Online

on the leather car seat.  
    ‘Look, can’t you stay out of it?’ I say.  
    In the pale glow from the lights streaking by outside I see her eyes widen. ‘Stay out of it? Stay out of it! This is a violation of your human rights, Petri. Or don’t you care about that?’
    ‘No, of course, I do. It’s just... do you have to make such a fuss? I’m sure it will all be OK.’
    She folds her arms and turns her head away from me. ‘Fine, I’ll stay out of it. But don’t come crying to me when they send you off to one of their encampments. And don’t you think I don’t know about them,’ she says, leaning forward and addressing the police officers. ‘I’m a member of Amnesty. I’ve been recording this whole exchange, you know?’ She leans back again. ‘See how they like it when their barbaric procedures go viral.’  
    ‘I wouldn’t suggest you do that, Ms Quinn,’ Lee says, not even turning around. ‘You could be charged with inciting violence.’  
    Zizi’s mouth drops open and snaps shut again. I try not to smile. The rest of the journey takes place in silence. Thankfully.

    The police station is a modern, new-build affair. All glass and chrome. I start counting the seconds till Zizi mentions taxpayers. I don’t have to wait too long.  
    ‘Well, isn’t that wonderful. And how much did that cost I wonder?’ she says looking up at a large metal sculpture of a policeman, bending down on one knee talking to a child. ‘What a great use of taxpayers’ funds. I mean, of course, forget about keeping the hospital’s maternity wing open as long as the police force get their shining symbol of benevolence to fool us all.’
    I’m almost hoping they’ll lock me up.  
    Large glass doors hiss open as we approach and inside everything is quiet. More like a hospital than the loud police station I had imagined. There are no hookers or pimps screaming at each other. No tramps proclaiming their innocence. I’m a little disappointed.  
    Detective Lee swaps a few brief words with a policeman behind the large reception desk, tells the policewoman who’s accompanied us that ‘he’s got this’ and then leads us through a set of double doors at the back. What noise there was in the main area is now totally silenced. My trainers squeak loudly on the polished floors. Zizi scowls at me, like I can shut them up.  
    She mutters the whole way about civil liberties. Lee ignores her, which annoys her even more. Despite myself, I kind of like him.  
    He stops in front of a door and punches a six-figure number into the pass lock: 538873. I start looking for patterns in the number. Dates, codes, words. The only meaning I can ascribe is that as a simple letter cipher it would mean ‘kettle’. But it’s probably only a random number. He opens the door and steps aside.  
    It looks more waiting room than interrogation room. There are two low sofas facing each other either side of a glass coffee table. There are even mugs on the table. Lee nods for us to take a seat. He tidies the mugs, which clank together in his hand, and places them in a sink.  
    I take a seat and, after dusting crumbs off the cushion, so does Zizi. She’s chewing on the skin around her nails. They’re painted bright green today, although they’ve started to grow out a little and she’ll need to have them redone soon.  
    Lee eases himself onto the sofa opposite us. ‘You might be wondering how we tracked you down.’
    ‘Not really,’ I say. ‘You have surveillance everywhere.’  
    Lee looks a little unsettled. ‘Well, we didn’t need any surveillance, Miss Quinn. Your friend Ryan McManus gave us your name. But rest assured we would have found you anyway.’
    I can’t hold back the small gasp of shock. ‘You caught Ryan?’  
    ‘We let him off with a warning 30 minutes ago. He hadn’t done anything wrong.’  
    ‘Then why exactly have you dragged my daughter in here?’
    Lee slides over a slim tab. The latest graphene model, I notice.