Chapter Thirty. Author's note - Hello everyone! Sorry for the late update! Hope you like this chapter anyway! I'd really love to hear from you all about it!
Nightingale stopped helping Rose when she heard a voice outside her door. When the voice got louder, she hushed Rose, who was stumbling through a short passage.
"Hush!" she told her, putting her hand over the girl's mouth.
Rose looked surprised but obeyed.
The pair of them listened. As the voice got closer, Nightingale felt her hands clench and her stomach turn with anger and disgust. She could suddenly feel bitter bile in her mouth and she very nearly gagged.
Her eyes flashed over to Rose's face and she saw the girl's sunny mood sour and turn afraid.
It was the voice of Hank, the Corporation's salesman to Bobby, the man who always cajoled Bobby into buying yet another Inamorata to enslave. He was speaking to Bobby, obviously, from the tone of his voice. Had he been speaking to an Inamorata, his voice would not have been so full of amiable respect.
"So, I'll just go find her, will I?" the two women heard him call.
"No," whispered Rose, shuddering all over as Hank's voice came to a stop in front of the room.
"It's quite all right, Rose," snarled Nightingale. "He won't be wanting to fuck you. You're a failure in that department. Bobby will be recommending me. So be quiet. I won't let him touch you."
Rose whimpered anyway, the sound of her grief grating against Nightingale's ears. She stood up and, making sure her dressing gown was sufficiently indecent, revealing far more skin than it ought to, pasted a slinky smile on her face.
"Hello, Mr. Mueller," she simpered, sashaying over to him, ready to kiss him when he shook his head.
"No need for that, Miss Nightingale," he said. "Equiano."
Nightingale was sure her expression of surprise was just as gormless as the one on Rose's face. With her eyes wide, her mouth agape, and her face blank, Rose looked almost comical with shock.
"You're-" began Nightingale, confusion and suspicion warring within her. It made for a very tumultuous mix.
"The government source within the Corporation? Yes," said Hank.
"But you sell Inamoratas!" accused Nightingale. "You're a dealer! How on earth could you be on the side of the cause when you make your living wage selling us into slavery?"
Hank smiled and sat down on the bed. "I have to. It's to keep my cover, Miss Nightingale," he said. Only then did Nightingale realize how he addressed her - the affectionate, respectful way preferred by Robin and Clarence.
"You sold me!" cried Rose. She sprang to her feet and stared at him. Her wide blue eyes were too full of innocent sadness to be accusing, making her look simply sorrowful instead.
"And for that I'm sorry," he said. He turned to face her and shook his head slowly. "I'm truly sorry, I am. But it was your slavery, and that of all the Inamoratas I sell, for the freedom of all of your sisters. The slavery of a few for the eventual freedom of all. You can do math, I was there when it was conditioned into your pretty head. Tell me, don't you think those numbers make sense?"
Rose was quiet. Her head was bowed, either in shame or defeat. It made Nightingale ache to see her so dejected, and so she turned to Hank.
"You had better have provided Detective Beckett with valuable information, then," she said, her tone soft and deadly. She took a step towards him, glaring at him.
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Inamorata
Science FictionNightingale is human - or would be, had it not been for the manner of her creation. Genetically engineered and grown to adulthood in a lab, she was created, not born. Why? For the sole purpose of the entertainment of rich men as one of the many Inam...