The Cage(33)

They were in a large chamber with an arched ceiling made of molded metal blocks that fit together in interlocking seams. It wasn’t the same room she had materialized in before, though the same starry light came from the seams, filling the chamber with a muted glow. A jumble of equipment was hooked to the walls like a gun armory, only there were giant needles and sensors instead of knives and triggers. Blue cubes the size of her fist pulsed above the doorway and the wall cabinets. A cold examination table sat in the middle.

Cora’s nails dug into Lucky’s leather jacket. “Look.”

In the corner was a small cage. A human girl sat locked inside, with dusky dark skin and stringy black hair hanging in her eyes. She wore a dark scrap of clothing that left her legs and arms bare, and was crouched like a feral animal, glaring at them through her braids.

“What the . . . ,” Leon started. “Who the hell are you?”

The girl didn’t answer. Either she didn’t speak English, or she didn’t care. Her hands slowly curled around the bars.

“You deaf, girl? I asked—”

The door beneath the blue cube opened, silencing him, and a Kindred woman entered. It was one of the researchers, the one with high cheekbones and a thin nose, who had spared a glance back at Cora. She ignored the poor cramped girl in the cage.

Her black hair was pulled back in a tight knot, not a hair out of place. She now wore a stiff white uniform with cerulean trim and a row of intricate knots down the side. Seven knots, Cora counted. The other researchers all had had six. Did that mean she was a higher rank? She’d been too distracted to count the Warden’s knots—seeing as he’d been choking her to death—but it had been far more.

“I am Serassi.” The woman spoke flatly. “I am your medical inspector. It is time for your physical assessments. You may disregard the human subject behind those bars. She is here for observation purposes only.”

Another door opened, and the Caretaker entered.

Cora’s breath caught. She would never get used to seeing him. His imposing size, his dreamlike beauty. Her body hummed with the memory of his touch, how foreign and frightening it had been, and how he had spared her from the Warden. Then she remembered the girl in the cage, and her fury returned.

They’re monsters. Even him.

While the Kindred exchanged words, Cora balled her fists. If she’d had the guitar string garrote right then, she could easily have wrapped it around either of their necks and pulled. But she had nothing. She felt helpless.

Their conversation paused. The Caretaker’s head jerked toward her an inch, as though he heard her thoughts. The back of her neck went cold, and that creeping worry returned, that maybe the Kindred could read their minds. But that didn’t make any sense. If the Kindred could read minds, wouldn’t they know about her plan to find the fail-safe exit and escape?

“We will call you in numerical order to approach the table,” the Caretaker said. “The medical inspector will record your body mass and perform a series of tests to evaluate your health. This process will not be painful or unpleasant unless you chose to make it so. Boy One, you are first.” He looked at Rolf. “Remove your clothing.”

Cora’s eyes went wide. Rolf’s went wider.

They wanted them naked?

The first day in the cage, Cora hadn’t showered or changed clothes because of the black windows in the bathroom. Eventually she’d had to. But there was a big difference between stripping in front of a black window and here, with the Kindred, not to mention the other captives and the girl in the cage.

Leon cursed. “Is he serious?”

Cora kept her eyes fixed on the Caretaker. Did he understand why they were so reluctant? Did nudity mean the same thing to his people? In the cage, the human girl watched impassively, rocking slowly back and forth. Cora started to wonder if she was even human.

“In adherence with Rule Two,” the Caretaker continued, “we require you to cooperate. These tests are for your own benefit, whether your limited minds can comprehend that or not. Now approach the table, Boy One.”

Rolf went white as porcelain.

“This isn’t right,” Nok whispered. “What’ll they do to him?”

Cora watched her throwing him nervous glances. Nok might have been acting before, manipulating Rolf into protecting her with wails and tears, but her concern for him was real now, as was her fear.

Cora grabbed Rolf’s shirt and pulled them all into a huddle. “We’ll all face the wall, okay? We won’t look. We’ll give each other privacy.”