My eye itches, and I rub it vigorously. The press credentials are contained on a lens that was awkwardly put in place by General Lall as we stood in the street outside the courthouse.
‘Don’t fiddle with it,’ she says.
Two steps ahead of us, a man we met three minutes ago leads us into the heavily guarded courtroom. I feel like I’m walking into Janek’s office. I wanted the freedom of the Federated States. I never imagined I would be here like this.
The man leads us up granite steps and through the colonnade. He holds the heavy glass door open for me, and I struggle to find the strength to keep it open.
‘Remember, I get you in, and that’s it. Whatever you’ve got planned in there is nothing to do with me. If they take you, you keep my name off your lips.’
‘Until you want an exclusive interview,’ General Lall says.
‘Mrs Lall, I can tell you, without a hint of doubt in my mind, that you will not be giving interviews after today. I’m doing this because Harveen asked me to, and we’ve got history, not because I think you’re going to succeed.’
We march onwards. I’m shaky with adrenaline.
Less than an hour ago, Harveen grabbed clothes, climbed out of the window of her house, and got into the car where General Lall was still waiting for us.
I concentrate on the way the too-big shoes clip on the flagstones. Before, on the Arcadia, I dreamed of places like this. The majesty of the architecture. Never thought I’d be an enemy of the state, on the run, and planning a stupid, futile jailbreak.
Just inside the glass entrance of the courthouse, there’s a security station. Guards in uniforms watch as each visitor steps up to the scanner and lets it read their credentials. Barney King, Harveen’s reporter friend, goes first. He stares into the scanner lens. A green light pans over his eye. His image flashes up on a screen, and the guard nods him through.
King doesn’t wait for us. He disappears up the broad staircase, washing his hands of us and any responsibility for what we’re about to do. No matter. He’s done what we needed him to: got us into the courthouse.
‘I’ll go through the security gate first. Any sign of trouble, you turn round and leave. Do you understand me?’ General Lall says.
‘Yes, ma’am.’
She walks as though she belongs here. Her hair’s neatly pinned into a bun on the back of her head, and Harveen’s clothes make her look every bit the Federated States citizen. She brings her eye to the scanner. It scans, beeps, and she’s through.
I follow and, by the time my face has been flashed over the security screen with a fake name and journalist credentials beneath it, courtesy of Barney King’s employer, I can barely take the pressure in my chest any more.
‘Hold your nerve,’ General Lall says. She squeezes my arm before we climb the stairs to the courtroom.
The sight of Nik freezes me to the spot in the doorway so that the person behind me stumbles into my back. They tut and push past.
He’s in the middle of the room, elevated on a small wooden stand just big enough for one. His arms are stretched to either side of the stand so that he’s forced to stay in one position. I want to shout to him. I want him to know he’s not alone. In front of him, the judges’ podiums are flanked by Federated States flags. Behind him, rows of plastic seats are filled by the audience. Men and women in military uniforms and what look to be court officials sit along both sides of the courtroom.
On the other side of Nik, smirking to himself, is Alex. It flashes through my mind that if I’m going to be arrested, charged and executed today, I could take him with me. I could jump over the barriers and wrap my fingers round his neck. Janek’s too. It could be over before anyone tries to stop me.
General Lall nudges me forward until I drop my head and walk to the press gallery at the back of the room. Rows of uncomfortable plastic chairs separated from the rest of the court by a low barrier.
We sit two rows back from the front. Barney King carefully avoids making eye contact. I’ve barely had time to process anything when everyone around me stands, and a line of judges files in from a door at the front of the room. Nik’s shoulders tense. I wish I could tell him we’re here. That we’re going to try, even if we fail.
The general taps her fingers against her thigh. Waiting, just like me.
Come on, Harveen. Nik’s counting on you.