Page 90 of Carousel

I’m back in my cabin, lying on my bed and facing the wall. I’m aware Cosmer is sitting on the end of his, shining his boots – hard, like he wants to peel the leather right off. The room reeks of polish. Every now and again, he lets out a sigh.

He does it once more, and I snap.

“What?” I hiss, rolling over.

I’d been aware that he was changing his clothes behind me, but this is the first time I’m seeing what he’s wearing now. The red shirt has been swapped for a crisp white one. The black breeches have been swapped for cream. On top, he wears a sort of simple cropped fabric blazer.

“We shouldn’t have gone up there,” he states. “It put us at risk. It put Integration at risk.”

“They were torturing him,” I murmur, soft. As if I still can’t believe it.

Cosmer keeps working at a mark on his boots I can’t see.

“What did you expect to be happening, Ara?” he says, harsh. “Did you think they’d all be sitting around playing cards? Drinking rum?”

I sit upright. “You knew corrective instruction meant torture.” I accuse him, voice raised. “And you didn’t say anything.”

His eyes are still cast down. “Many have gone through it. They’ve all been fine. Including Meg and Rike.”

“They’re probably hiding it, or they’ve been made to forget somehow. They’re probably traumatised⁠—”

Cosmer throws down his rag.

“What do you want me to do, Ara?” he shouts. “You want me to take you up to the airlock? We can do that right now. Because that’s the only other option you have. You understand that, right?” His chest moves with his breaths. After a beat, he says, “I’m not the one who broke the law, remember? You did – when you helped that asshole get away and hide.”

I swallow air. Feel it, cold, in my lungs.

“I didn’t know you knew that.”

“Dezeeves told me. On the way to get you from The Dragoness mission.” He pauses. “So, it’s true, then?”

I keep my voice steady. “I did the right thing.”

His gaze turns hard again. “Congratulations! Now you get to face the consequences of your actions. And these,” he says, arms open, “Are the consequences.”

Face the consequences.

Just like Vikemy said.

Is that really the only option left for me? Let this all happen to me? To Drake? Watch as this whole ridiculous war plays out, powerless to have any sway – or even, opinion – over it at all?

I look directly at him. Speak in a voice so quiet it’s barely there.

“The Cosmer I knew would never play a role in enforcing rules he knew were wrong. He always found a way to help people who needed it.”

Something crosses his face.

Maybe I shouldn’t say it.

But I do. The words fall from my mouth thick and fast, like Rhavnan rain in the wet season.

“He would have starved himself for three years, if it meant a girl who came to his country with no Provider skills – and nothing but her child brother and ancient grandmother – could eat.”

He’s silent.

The air has gone out of the room, like the oxygen has stopped working. We could suffocate.

Slowly, he looks back down. Puts on his boots, one a time.