she was trying to hide something. Also, she was keeping her eyes down, not looking at him.
V wanted to ask her what was wrong—since something clearly was—but he sensed he’d need to take things carefully and slowly. First, however, he looked up at the ceiling. To his relief, the little red light centered over the table was dark. At least they had privacy.
“So, speaking of work, how was your first day?” he asked, taking a bite of a grilled green tuber that had a fleshy texture and a bland taste, though Penelope had obviously done her best to add flavor with salt and powdered cheepa peppers—some of the few spices that were available at the Compound.
“Oh, you know…the usual,” she replied evasively.
“The usual? Sweetheart, nothing’s usual in this fucked-up place,” V told her. He raised his eyebrows. “So what happened?”
Penelope sighed.
“Well, first I met my new supervisor, who hated me on sight. She gave me to someone else to train and told her that if I messed up, she should send me over to the butcher shop because they needed someone and—”
“Wait—wait a minute. The butcher shop?” V interrupted. Fucking Skrug worked there—V had seen the big asshole chopping meat with a cleaver out in front of the shop every damn day.
“Don’t worry—I didn’t end up there,” Penelope told him. “I’m only right beside it, at the bakery. But not in the bakery itself, because I ruined a whole batch of bread dough by forgetting to put in the yeast and adding too much water and not melting the butter and mixing up the salt and the sugar and…and…and just generally screwing everything up.” She sniffed and V saw there were tears standing in her big brown eyes.
He wanted to comfort her, but he was so disturbed by her news that he had to stand up and pace.
“You’re in the bakery? As in the Marketplace?” V ran both hands through his hair. This was bad, bad news. He couldn’t count the number of rapes he’d seen during the “Public Breedings” the “Glorious Leader” periodically and randomly announced and almost all of them took place in the fucking Marketplace!
Of course, it wasn’t the only public place where females were considered free game during a Public Breeding—there was also the park and the Amphitheater. But neither of those was ever very busy. The Amphitheater was mostly deserted because it was only used for public gatherings and ceremonies and the park was sparsely populated because—V suspected—unaccompanied females stayed away from it on purpose, so they wouldn’t be targeted.
“This is bad,” he said out loud, still pacing. “This is really, really bad. The Marketplace is where every horny male in the whole Compound heads the minute the fucking ‘Glorious Leader’ announces a Public Breeding!”
“You think I don’t know that?” Penelope flared, glaring up at him. “I was told already that it’s a punishment assignment—probably for the way I acted during that stupid Unification Ceremony. Oh, and that’s also why they turned up the hypno-whispers—to keep me in line. So I can’t promise not to do anything stupid and embarrassing again tonight, all right?”
“Look, I never said…” V shook his head. “I’m just worried about you being at the Marketplace, that’s all, sweetheart! I especially don’t like you being so close to the butcher shop!”
“Why, because Skrug works there?” The flash of anger was over and V felt a wave of hopelessness coming from her. “Don’t worry,” she said dully. “He’s promised he won’t rape me until the next Public Breeding. Which could be any…any time.” Her words ended in a sob and she dropped her eating utensil with a clatter and buried her face in her hands.
“He what?” V was so angry he wanted to go find the big blue bastard and rip his head off. How dare the big fucker threaten his bride? How dare he threaten to rape Penelope and scare her and make her cry? How fucking dare he?
V could feel the Rage rising in him—it was a dark red haze that threatened to roll over his vision and erase his reason in the relentless need to maim and kill whatever or whoever had threatened his female.
With difficulty, he got hold of himself. Giving in to the Rage and going to kill Skrug now would only get him either killed himself, or at the very least incapacitated by the pain square imbedded in his neck. Though part of him felt it would be absolutely worth it to die as long as