“They can’t do that without equipment,” Daphne said thoughtfully. “If we can find what they’re using to make these pamphlets, we can probably grab one for ourselves and give it a read.”
“Yeah,” said Zada. “I agree. Time to pay the sisters another visit.”
“Let’s go over the plan,” Zada said as their hyper-carriage approached the low-slung community center.
“Really?” said Daphne. “We’ve been over it twice since we left.”
“One more time, then.”
“We’re doing it my way,” said Daphne with relish. “Skullduggery.” The carriage rolled to a stop. Daphne hopped out and offered Zada a hand.
Zada shot Daphne a disbelieving look but took the hand.
“Can you be slightly more specific?” Zada managed as her boots touched the concrete. Daphne gave her hand a light, acknowledging squeeze. For a moment, neither of them moved. They were simply standing there, holding hands on the sidewalk. Zada was suddenly acutely aware of all five fingers and her palm as well. Maybe this was why debutantes weren’tsupposed to touch each other, she thought. Beyond simply preserving Heartsong for public, formal settings, if young people were kept starving for skin-to-skin contact, they were more likely to want to marry the first person who touched them.
“Fine,” said Daphne in an undertone. “We’re buying lace.”
“For the wedding,” Zada added. “We ask for the rarest, most complex lace there is, and then while they’re checking their stores, we slip away. And then, uh, it’s a simple matter of—well.”
Daphne shrugged. “It’s not as if they’ll kill us and hide the bodies. They’re nuns, Zada.”
“So you say,” Zada replied. “So, we’ll stick to the plan, and then surely everything will be fine.” And with that, they pushed open the double doors to the community center.
Chapter FourteenIn Which Nothing Is Fine
Inside, the community center was a swarm of frantic activity. The nuns rushed about through the building, looking harried and anxious.
“Excuse me,” Daphne called out to someone who, judging by their age, must have been a novice. “My friend here is looking to purchase some custom—”
“We’re not open to visitors right now,” the novice said quickly. They bowed, then power walked away, disappearing down the sunlit corridor. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut. It hadn’t been like this when they’d visited yesterday.
“What do you think is going on?” asked Zada.
“Not a clue.”
They watched the pandemonium in silence. Daphne narrowed her eyes, clearly intent on nabbing a novice to ask them what was going on.
“Miss Chambers and Miss Fallow,” called a hearty and cheerful voice. It was Sister Patience, with Sister Justice on her heels. “Good morning! What brings you back here so soon? Don’t tell me you’ve decided to answer the call and join our order.”
“I was hoping to put in an order for some lace,” Zada said. “For, ah . . .”
“For her wedding train,” Daphne supplied. “Is this a bad time? What’s going on here?”
Sister Justice waved a hand at the pandemonium. “Oh, all that? Emergency training,” they said cheerfully. “In times of trouble, people look to us. We run drills every month to stay prepared for any and every calamity.”
Across the hallway, someone burst into tears.
“Some of our sisters take it very seriously,” Sister Patience added.
“Should we come back at a different time?” Zada asked. Daphne elbowed her. “Although, this is an urgent request, so if you have a moment . . .”
“Of course,” said Sister Justice, “we can discuss in my office. Right this way.”
Sister Justice and Sister Patience led them down a series of corridors, turning left, then right at different points. Occasionally, the corridors seemed to slope downward, and at other times, Sister Justice would open a door revealing a short flight of stairs. There was very little sound isolation here, and voices carried through the vents as they hurried deeper and deeper into the bowels of the community center.
Eventually, they came to a small room. Inside were several overstuffed chairs, a small table, and absolutely nothing else.
At this point, they had to be underground again. Despite the circumstances, it was still a novelty. Given the hard granite mountain beneath them, construction tended to trend upward instead, until it almost brushed the top of the biodome that New Ionians called home.
