Botanicaust

coughing — obviously sick — and wouldn ’ t be fit for conversion anyway. Euthanize the whole lot of them.
    He watched Tula with sharp eyes and resisted the urge to scratch. The healthy glow of her skin brought saliva to his mouth. He would have that new fungi . And then nothing would slow him down.

    Levi squinted through the duster window at the Blattvolk city, his heart sick to be repeating this journey. Mirrored walls glared sunlight. Streets flowed with green-skinned pedestrians and those strange, clear-sided cars like the one he and Tula had driven into the desert. In the center, a solitary, solid building hunkered next to the landing pad. The prison.
    How could Tula do this? She ’ d run to that Blattvolk man ’ s arms as if she ’ d planned this all along. The nurses were saying she had. Even Beth refused to acknowledge him as he offered assurances Tula was a prisoner, too.
    Not that he believed his own words. The tawny-eyed man had helped her into the duster like a princess, offering her a seat, petting her arm, smiling at her with puppy dog eyes. The rest of the Blattvolk deferred to that man, except for the scrawny fellow Levi recognized from the prison. Vitus. That was his name. Vitus sat up front and glared at Tula with hateful red eyes. He was like a cross of the worst traits from both the Blattvolk and the Fosselites rolled into one.
    Lifting his limp son into his arms, Levi allowed the Blattvolk guards to usher him down the ramp. Josef had lost consciousness at the end of the flight. Other children from the Ward were not much better. One was worse.
    Beth ’ s ashen face as she carried little Saul down the incline made Levi vibrate with anger. The boy had died in flight, in spite of a Blattvolk medic ’ s attempts to provide oxygen. At the door to the prison, Beth refused to relinquish the body to the Blattvolk technicians. “ No, you can ’ t take him. He belongs with his parents. ”
    They grabbed her arms and wrested Saul from her. Beth fell into a heap, sobbing. “ Don ’ t touch her! ” Levi said in Cannibal, but he couldn ’ t help her and care for Josef. The Blattvolk lifted Beth beneath the arms and carried her into a cell. Helpless bile rose into Levi ’ s mouth.
    Keeping his head high, Levi followed, entering the cell they opened for him. “ My child needs medicine. ” He looked a Blattvolk in the eye and spoke Cannibal. The green skinned man turned his attention to Josef, put his fingers to the pulse at the boy ’ s neck, and then held out his arms.
    Levi trembled. If Josef didn ’ t get medicine, he would end up like Saul. But to let him go freely into the care of a Blattvolk …
    “ I come, too. ”
    The Blattvolk shook his head.
    Feeling the judgment of the rest of the Old Order upon him, Levi couldn ’ t move. His desire to follow the Ordnung hung heavy on his shoulders. His love for his son stretched the tethers of his soul. A child in another cell started coughing. Kept coughing. Josef ’ s breath rattled.
    Levi handed over his son.

    The air of the enclosed building tasted stale in spite of the venting system, like plastic and the closeness of people. Sunlight filtered through the clear roof onto the oval table where several council members had already settled for the trial. After so long in the raw sun, no amount of filtered light could make Tula feel at home. She rubbed her hands down the short skirt covering her thighs and readjusted the layer of necklaces as an Enforcer showed her to her seat in the defendant ’ s box. Crime was rare in the Protectorate; the box was a new addition to the Board Room, an ugly creation of extruded nuvoplast bent into a deep semi-circle.
    The Enforcer moved into position behind her. Tula smiled at him and turned to the small table inside. Her head just cleared the top edges of the nuvoplast box. A bottle of water and a gamma pad awaited her use.
    The forty Gallery chairs had already filled with curious spectators vying to see the trial in person rather than on the vid screens at home. In the front row, Bats raised two fingers in greeting as he caught Tula ’ s eye. Another of her converts sat next to him, nodding slightly. Scattered throughout the room, she saw scores of familiar faces. At the back wall next to other Enforcers, Mo stood with his hands clasped in front of him. His face was immobile as stone.
    Last night had turned out better than she expected with him. But he was hurting, and she couldn ’ t make him better.