With her stomach churning, Lysa tried to placate Jen, resting a hand on her shoulder. Jen shrugged it off. “No, Lysa. This has gone on long enough. It’s time Millicent got a taste of her own medicine.”
“Jen, no. You’ll get in trouble,” said Lysa.
Millicent, who’d been frozen in a stance of shock, emerged from her shell and rose up, her hands on her hips and her face hardening. “Oh, yeah, come on, slut, do your worst.”
“No, no!” pleaded Lysa. Suddenly, everything was going horribly wrong and the tension in the room rose several notches. The groups of women eyed each other up warily and Oona seemed keen to have a confrontation. Millicent too, she clenched her hands into fists.
A brawl! Lysa pressed her hands to her cheeks in alarm. No, dear God. A catfight amongst the women would bring all her hard work to an end. How could she have been so foolish to think Millicent would stand there and accept her guilt without a fight? Inadvertently, instead of trying to bring peace, she’d stirred up more hatred. Blake would be furious with her. Tears pricked in her eyes. She had to intervene in order to keep Jen and Millicent apart.
It might have been farcical in hindsight, like a slapstick routine, but to Lysa it played out in terrifying slow motion and each second lasted a lifetime. The moment she chose to yet again step between the two angry women, the constable appeared with his two sidekicks. She caught sight of him as she swivelled, spinning her arms around. She’d leapt between the wives with her arms spread wide in a gesture of intervention. Unfortunately, as one arm lashed out, Millicent opted to move forward, her face walking into Lysa’s flying hand.
The slap echoed about the room. The constable witnessed Millicent’s head fling back, and the howl as she clutched her nose, making a huge fuss over a tiny drop of blood.
Lysa dropped her arms to her sides. The Dome fell silent except for the sounds of heavy breathing and Millicent’s over the top wailing. The constable strode forward, pushing aside the bystanders and snatched Lysa’s wrists.
“You’re under arrest for assault and inciting dissent,” he snarled.
Lysa shrank and winced as he snapped cuffs on her wrists. “Please, it wasn’t like that. I was trying to stop them fighting.”
“By punching a decent, upstanding woman in the face?” He glared down at her.
Jen rushed forward. “Please, sir, it wasn’t like that, it was my fault. I started it.”
Lysa shook her head frantically. She didn’t want anyone else to suffer for her stupidity. “No, it’s all down to me. Nobody else.”
“Very well,” said the constable, shoving her between the parting crowd. “You’ll come with me. Disperse this lot,” he ordered the two aides. “Oh, and take a statement from Millicent, since she’s the injured party.”
Jen kept pace with them, repeating her pleas, but the constable ignored her.
“She’ll face the consequences,” he said grinning.
The consequences! The punishment block and the ghastly switch. The image conjured up made Lysa go weak at the knees. Blake had promised he wouldn’t let the constable beat her. “Jen, please, you have to get word to Blake. Tell him,” she shouted over her shoulder as the constable shoved her forward.
It was a ghastly walk of shame through the habitat. Held tightly at the elbow and her wrists bound behind her back, Lysa hung her head, not daring to catch anyone’s eyes. Whispers greeted her as he paraded her through the atrium on what seemed to be a deliberately long detour to the security block. She bit back waves of nausea and refused to cry.
Once they passed through the security door, she was alone with him. He propelled her down a corridor. Would he send her before the adjudicator immediately? The answer came in the form of a tiny cell. He shoved her into the bare room.
“You’ll be processed shortly, once Millicent’s statement has been taken.” He followed her into the room.
“What of the other eye witnesses. Ursula?” Her friend would tell him the truth, about Sym and everything, surely?
“Millicent’s statement will be sufficient to guarantee your guilt.” He grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled it tight, jerking her head up. “You’re nothing. Good for a hard fuck, a decent beating and nothing else. I’m going to enjoy turning your backside crimson, listening to you scream.”
“That’s exploitation—”
He let go of her hair and slapped her face. The sting brought tears to her eyes and her legs gave out. She landed on the bench behind her.
“You’ll learn to keep your mouth shut by the time I’ve finish with you.” He jabbed a finger in her face.
“My husband—”
“Will take great pleasure in seeing you punished. They all do.” He laughed and slammed the cell door behind him as he left.
She curled up in a ball and wept. How long would she have to wait for her judgement and summary punishment? Once the adjudicator passed sentence, appeals were forbidden on the colony. If only Ridley knew of her predicament. She had to stay strong and keep alive the hope that Blake would return in time. The light dimmed to near nothingness. Alone and afraid, she’d had to wait and pray Jen would persuade Yuri to send a message to Blake.
* * *
“Did you speak to Ursula, heard what she had to say about Millicent?” Lysa stood before Harkess’s desk with the constable by her shoulder. Nobody else was present for her hearing.