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out the words. “What? I can’t hear you!” Dust coated my throat when I breathed, and I fought to keep from coughing.
    He took the handful of steps in my direction and stopped so close his lips brushed my left ear. “One Gov hooahs are on their way, and only one of us needs to take the fall. My advice is to cover your eyes and shut your mouth when they spray the gas.”
    Then he moved in a burst of speed, using the dust and confusion for cover as he slipped through the hole in the wall. Panicked, I shuffled after him, but my rubbery legs failed and I hit the debris-littered floor. I tried crawling, pulling myself with desperate arms when my legs wouldn’t work. Beneath me, I felt the ground thundering, and when I reached the shattered office wall, I understood why.
    A squad of hooahs charged down the corridor, dressed in full riot gear—face shields, gas masks, and body armor. They looked like shiny black beetles walking on their hind legs, ready to crush anything in their path. But the only thing in their path was me.
    When I saw the gas cannon pointed in my direction, I screamed. It fired, I ducked, and it hit the wall over my right shoulder. A cloud of smoke later, I did the only thing I could—took Mr. Pennyworth’s advice and prayed to all the gods in the pantheon that I lived long enough to explain everything to Roy so he could arrest that freak’s androgynous ass.
    I caught a whiff of the sickly sweet gas. Immediately, my body seized. My thoughts just sort of…stopped. Panic doubled. Tripled. I wasn’t even sure I knew my own name.
    “What do we do with this one?” I heard someone say. Couldn’t tell if they were male or female, but they must have been leaning right over me if I could hear them. “She’s not with the scum outside.”
    “Filters detected a foreign substance while in the Arbiter’s presence. That makes her garbage too. Let’s see how much she likes twenty years in a Soweto East holding pen shoveling out shit pockets.”
    That was when they did…something. Rolled me over. Pressed the base of my skull. And darkness descended in a smothering wave.

Chapter Three
    It’s never pleasant to wake up somewhere and not know where you are. It’s doubly unpleasant to realize you’re exactly where you thought you’d be—jail.
    I sat up on a lumpy cot, wincing at the kinks in my neck and back. I tried stretching, but the pinching sensation I felt made it impossible. I’d never been someone who suffered from muscle cramps, so this was a horrible first. At least it seemed like my hearing had returned, so I thanked the gods for that tiny blessing. As I massaged my aches, I studied my cell.
    Overhead, dim halogen bulbs struggled to illuminate the gloom. The walls were a dingy gray concrete covered with stains and scuffmarks, the air chill and dank. There were no windows, not even in the solid metal door. Eight cots were attached to the walls. Mine contained a mattress zipped into a white plastic case that crinkled when I moved.
    I lay on a bottom cot, close to the door. Across from me, a dented metal bowl jutted from the wall—the toilet. In two of the ceiling’s corners hung cameras, meaning should I use the bowl, it would be a fine show for anyone watching. It was also antiquated tech. Cameras were essentially obsolete given how easily images could be manipulated. I shifted uncomfortably, bladder straining, and sighed. Someone would be getting a show today.
    I scurried to the bowl on shaky legs. I won’t bother describing the treasure I found inside as I made my own deposit. When I reached for the handle with my bare foot—gods, not my hand—horror filled me when the thing wouldn’t flush. Shake, rattle the handle…Nothing. I swore and hurried back to my cot, away from the offending bowl.
    That’s when I felt eyes on me. On the cot above mine was my cellmate.
    The woman smirked. “Nice floor act. Can’t wait for the encore.”
    She looked older than me by several years, meaning for