See No Evil

Chapter 3

After the disinfection, once she was passed through the drying uv rays room and given a new uniform, Ilah expected to be taken to a jail cell for the night, but instead she was taken to the third floor, where she had never been before.

They sat her down at a desk in the corner and told her not to move.

She narrowed her eyes and looked around at the series of desks where rows and rows of people were typing reports on iron typing machines, sending up a cacophony of clacking through the whole floor. She drummed her fingers over her thighs, remembering how she had been taught how to type too.

Years ago.

Years and years and years ago, to the point that the voice of the woman who had taught her had vanished from her mind, and all that flashed through her thoughts was a sad, hesitant smile against the soft light of the rising sun.

The officer that had arrested sat down at the desk across from her, slamming down a file on the surface of the desk and jolting Ilah from her thoughts of typing and smiles that hid a shadow of sadness behind them.

"Name and code," demanded the guard, taking off her red cap.

"Ilah, 55689," she replied, rubbing at her arms to try and warm herself a bit.

"Why did you throw that corpse down the cliff?"

Ilah froze. Her thoughts screeched to a halt and an absolute silence flooded her mind so that all she could think of was how cold Minah's body had been as she carried her in her arms. How cold and stiff and-

"Did you hear me? I asked you a question," demanded the officer, her voice rising.

Ilah took a deep breath.

"I didn't think it was right," she muttered through gritted teeth. "It wasn't...It really wasn't right, for them to be hung there, just because they were attacked."

The officer tapped her pen against the desk, then scribbled something down.

"You knew that girl?" she asked.

"She was my dorm mate."

The officer nodded, looking through the papers she had brought.

"You're staying at the third street dormitories, right?"

"Yes. Her name's Minah, code 61599."

"Was."

"Uh?"

"Her name was Minah, code 61599," said the officer distractedly as she jotted more information on the papers she had brought, filling out forms and reports.

Ilah gritted her teeth, while her stomach twisted inside her with rage. She looked away from the officer, her eyes skirting through the rows and rows of typists, focusing on another girl being brought to a different desk at the other end of the room before another officer. She remembered noticing how their eyes had crossed each other's as she had been dragged into the disinfection quarter.

"Did you notice anything abnormal about the girl Minah in the days previous to her attack?"

Ilah sighed and looked back at the officer.

"No," she said.

"Any illnesses? Did she say that she'd had any altercation at work or anywhere else?"

"No, no, nothing. I mean, we worked at the same factory. She hadn't had any issues with anyone. And she was fine. She had a cough that hit her on and off but she had it for a couple years," said Ilah, thinking back and trying to find in her memories if there might have been anything different about her that she'd missed.

"Did she seem to have any changes in her personality or routine?" asked the officer, entwining her fingers and staring at Ilah as if trying to see something inside her mind.

"No. We had the same routine we've had for over a year. Work, sanitation, soup kitchen, and then off to the dormitories. All the same except for trading weeks when we went to the market," said Ilah, huffing in frustration. "Why are you asking me all this? Do you think I killed her? Check my work and trading passes. You'll account for where I was until this morning."

"I checked that. Your movements have all been reviewed and we know you are not her killer."

"Then what killed her? What killed all the people at the tree?" demanded Ilah, her hands clenching into fists over her thighs. She felt as if her rage would burn her from inside. "And why do you let the people string them all up in the tree like that?! It's not right! It's not right for them to hang in there like that!"

The officer narrowed her eyes at Ilah for a moment, then picked up her pen again and kept on noting things down in her papers.

"You have charges against public sanitation and public order, but it is clear you have lost control of your mind due to the shock of your dorm mate's death. You do not recognize her as being dead, and you did not recognize the health risk in touching a dead body. Clearly your mental health is slipping so I will halve your charges, and change the sentence from jail time to therapy hours. Fifty therapy hours and you'll have fifty civil points knocked off your civilian license."

"Fifty?!"

The officer stood up.

"Guard, take her away to complete disinfection."

The guard grabbed Ilah's arm, but she refused to move.

"You didn't answer," she yelled. "What killed her?!"

She was dragged away to the second floor, and thrown into one of the cells where she was to spend the night.

"You'll stay here two days," the guard told her as he slammed the cell closed. "For being annoying."

Ilah kicked at the door.