Daughter of Nox

Chapter Fifteen

"Excuse me!" Freya called for the twentieth time through the small hole set into door of their cell, trying to get the attention of the lone guard seated outside. "Excuse me, Mr. Guard, sir! I need to talk to you."

The man scrolled his finger over his datapad, but said nothing.

"I know you can hear me." Freya spoke loud and slow over each word, her voice etched with irritation as it bounced off the bare walls. "My name is Freya Airm. I am the Ascending First Marshall of Nox, and I demand that you release me."

If the guard cared about any of those facts, he didn't show it. Rather than say anything, the man dug a chunk of something that might have been chocolate from a crinkly bag on his desk and popped it into his small, downturned mouth.

Annoyance tinged with the faintest trace of defeat scratched at the base of Freya's neck. She let out a moan before letting her forehead thump against the cold metal of the cell door.

"I could be wrong," Etta said from behind her, "but I think that guy might be ignoring you."

"That's because he's a jerk!" Freya shouted without looking up. "And if he spent less time stuffing his face and more time listening, then he'd realize we're not criminals."

"Are we showing him the error of his ways through insults?" Etta asked. "Because if I'm being honest, I don't think that's going to work."

"I have to try something," Freya said. "My dad cannot finds out I'm here."

"Considering that Caretaker arrested us on your dad's order, don't you think he probably already knows?"

"The Caretakers had to have been operating on a general order to arrest anyone in the area who wasn't supposed to around the area after the attack started," Freya said. "If my dad knew I was arrested then he'd probably have taken me into orbit already and had me pushed out an airlock."

"At least it would be quick."

"Thank you for those kind words of comfort, Second." Freya said without pulling her forehead from the door. "Also, how are you so calm about this? Your dad is going to be just as mad at you if he finds out you've been accused of being a terrorist."

"The difference between my dad and yours is that mine expects me to get in trouble. Besides, it's not so bad here." Etta looked around their tiny holding cell. "It's sort of cozy, actually."

Freya lifted her head and turned a scowl on Etta. "Detention centers are not cozy."

"Oh come on, you know what I mean," Etta said. "Places like this are supposed to be all dark and drippy."

Freya raised an eyebrow. "Drippy?"

"Yes, drippy." Etta fluttered a hand at the slate grey walls. "Prisons are always dark, and wet, you know? And there should be moaning. Lots of moaning." Etta tapped a finger against her chin. "Speaking of which, I don't think I've heard a single moan since we got here."

Freya laughed despite herself. "Since when do you know what prisons are like?"

Etta rolled her eyes. "Obviously I don't know what actual prisons are like. But moaning, wet prisons are pretty much par for the course on holo dramas."

"Except this isn't a holo drama, Etta. This is an actual Ministry Detention Center," Freya said. "The kind with locked cells and guards who ignore you when you try to explain that you're not supposed to be there."

"All of which are in holo dramas," Etta said flatly. "Except for the last part. Guards in holos are always either getting tricked into unlocking the door, or coming into the cell so that the prisoners can catch them with a surprise neck chop."