Dissidence by Jamie Canosa Read Free Book Online Page A

used it in a while .
    “You have been found guilty of dissidence, and these men are here to escort you to your location of incarceration.” She held herself tall as though she’d already heard every argument I could possibly offer and intended to defy them all.
    “Guilty?” The word almost stuck in my throat. “Shouldn’t there have been, you know, some kind of trial or something first?”
    “That was your trial.”
    “ That? That weird dream was my trial? That was a mind trick, not a trial. I didn’t even know I was being tried!”
    “Your subconscious was aware that it was a test, and still you failed.” She turned her back, leaving me alone with the two angry looking guards.
    “Wait! Can you at least tell me why I was arrested in the first place?” Like I didn’t already know, but there were so many different options, I was just curious as to which one had done me in.
    With a frustrated sigh, she flipped open a file she’d been carrying and scanned a few pages. “There are several reports of you openly renouncing government protocol on record, and do you remember a specific incident in which you blatantly expressed a desire to defy one such protocol in regard to your future mate, should he be unacceptable in accordance with your personal standards?”
    I just stared at her as though she were speaking some kind of foreign language. I did remember that ‘specific incident’. What I couldn’t understand was how she knew about it, or how it had ended up in that file. That had been a private conversation between me and . . . Peter.
    No .No way. Peter turned me in? Peter? It wasn’t possible, was it? I’d trusted him. With the amount I had run my mouth off to him, I couldn’t believe this hadn’t happen years ago. Then again, I guess it would have been difficult to explain my disappearance earlier. Now, everyone would just believe I’d gone to colony E to live with my mate, but I assumed there was no such person waiting for me. Scott Maylee the butcher . . . they had done that on purpose. Someone somewhere had a sick sense of humor.
    A hysterical laugh bubbled up my throat, and I had to fight it back down before it could escape. The thought of Peter reporting on me was enough to make my stomach roll. He was my best friend. M y only friend. How could he have done this to me, and why then would he have tried to stop me in the end? Guilty conscience? Change of heart? Did it even matter?
    Oblivious to my inner turmoil, one of the guards shoved a small pile o f clothing into my arms— a t-shirt, light gray pants, matching long sleeved button up shirt, and undergarments. “Dress . . . quickly.”
    I glanced around for somewhere to change, but there didn’t seem to be anywhere to go. Did they seriously expect me to change right there in front of them? I looked back up at the men, and they’d both turned their backs to me. How considerate . Not seeing much of an option, I quickly slipped out of the paper gown I had been wearing— not even wanting to think about how I’d gott en into it in the first place— and into the clothes provided for me. Ten seconds later, they were dragging me from the room and down a pure white hallway. There was really no need for all of the pushing and pulling. Where did they think I was going to go? I didn’t even know where I was .
    Outside, we found another train waiting for us. This time, when I was escorted into a private compartment, I was slightly less surprised to find it locked behind me. For a few insane minutes, I considered if it was worth jumping from a moving train through one of the many windows in my compartment. In the end, it was a moot point because none of the windows opened anyway. Instead, I dropped down on the bed in the middle of the room and considered how long it would take to get to my ‘location of incarceration’. What did that even mean? I wondered what it would be like, what the people there would be like, how long I’d have to stay there and