Page 110 of Border Control

To them, I suppose it is. Everyone's nodding as if females can't possibly be corrupt and abusing their power. But if I point that out, I’ll probably be carted straight back to the All-Mother’s ship.

And Dom’s running out of time. Half an hour, he said, and it’s slipping by so fast I can't check how long it's been since I last spoke to him.

“I admire the clarity of your laws,” I say. “I love that they're simple and easily interpreted and applied. I think they can be strengthened, though.”

“On what basis? You haven't studied them,” redhead counters.

“That's correct. I'd love an opportunity to do so.”

“Please, be my guest. I'll have a True Born bring a pad so you can examine judgements at your leisure,” Samara offers.

“But the laws aren't written down, you said. I'd need to see a real trial.”

“Then the next one we have, you can sit in on,” the Voice says, beaming. “I'd be delighted to host you.”

I'm losing ground, slipping.

Samara's eyes flicker. “I can see you're an intelligent, driven female. I admire that. But your fixation on the clone is misguided. Rest, and I'll send some True Born males to delight you. They don't disappoint.”

Great, Samara's taking pity on me due to how badly I'm failing Dom.

I have to take control.

Taking a deep breath, I plunge onwards. “Was his trial for him alone? Was the evidence against him watertight?”

Samara’s face hardens. “He was tried along with his entire crew for failing to secure resources resulting in the death of a female.”

“Katyen,” Blondie says sadly.

That doesn't seem fair to me, but clearly it’s a reasonable basis for conviction and just punishment here, as no one's protesting.

Imaya says, “Such a rare disease. We've still only had one instance, nothing for the Selthiastocks alongside me to work with.”

Samara's gaze drops away from mine. “I don't wish to cause a stir, but her death… her death wasn't from a disease.”

The friendship group all go quiet. “What do you mean?” the Voice asks, breathless.

Samara’s gaze flicks up, piercing me as if she's about to set out a winning hand in poker. “I have evidence she was poisoned. Whether by the Parthiastock or his crew, it's irrelevant. He's a dangerous clone, and must be punished as an example for the others.”

Cold crawls up all my limbs, biting like ice water threatening to submerge me. Shit.

‘Dom, I'm sorry. Please, don't give up.’

Only silence resounds in the connection between us. Where is he? What's happening to him? I push but I can't get past his thick shield.

Why did I ever think this would be a good idea? How arrogant was I to assume I could waltz in and use their own legal system against them? He's been tried in the court of Samara's head, but that doesn't bother her friends all that much.

If only they had a real process. Something I could grab onto with my fingernails and prize open. What they have is like theflyer, lifting off with nothing for me to get hold of, Dom hustled off to his destruction as if he's an inconvenience.

Wait. No. He's viewed as a criminal.

That's perfect.

I keep my voice carefully casual, though my heart pounds. “Poison sounds serious. That's murder. Has anything like this ever happened before?”

“No,” the Voice admits slowly, glancing around. “Nothing like this has ever taken place. We’ve never had a case of a clone committing such a crime.”

I press further, seizing the moment. “So, under your system, he needs a trial. You need to determine the correct punishment, right? You said you run a trial in order to put that into your laws.”