south end of downtown. The market was the heart of the city, with checkpoints at either end. Some of the buildings still bore signs indicating their original function: Iowa State Bank, Fort Powell Army-Navy, Wimpy’s Café, Prairie Books and Music. There was even a small movie theater with a marquee; Sara had heard that cols were sometimes permitted to go, to watch the handful of movies that were shown over and over again.
She displayed her pass at the checkpoint. The streets were vacant save for the patrols and a handful of redeyes, strolling in their luxuriously heavy coats and sunglasses. Shielded by her veil, Sara moved in a bubble of anonymity, though this sense of security was, she knew, a dangerous illusion. She walked at a pace that was neither fast nor slow, her head down against the cold gusts that whipped up from the streets and around the corners of the buildings.
She came to the apothecary. Bells tinkled as she stepped inside. The room was warm and fragrant with wood smoke and herbs. Behind the counter, a woman with a scrim of gray hair and a puckered, toothless mouth was bent over a scale, measuring out minute quantities of a pale yellow powder and funneling them into tiny glass vials. She lifted her eyes as Sara entered, then darted them to the col lingering by a display of scented oils. Be careful. I know who you are. Don’t approach until I get rid of him. Then, speaking in an elevated, helpful voice: “Sir, perhaps you were looking for something special.”
The col was sniffing a bar of soap. Mid-thirties, not unhandsome, broadcasting an air of vanity. He returned the soap to its place on the display. “Something for a headache.”
“Ah.” A smile of assurance; the solution was in hand. “Just a moment.”
The old woman selected a jar from the wall of herbals behind her, spooned the dry leaves into a paper package, and handed it to him over the counter. “Dissolve this in warm water. Just a pinch should do it.”
He surveyed the package uneasily. “What’s in it? You’re not trying to poison me, old woman?”
“Nothing more than common dillonweed. I use it myself. If you want me to sample it first, I’d be glad to.”
“Forget it.”
He paid her with a single blue chip; the woman followed him with her eyes as he departed to a chime of bells.
“Come with me,” she said to Sara.
She led her to a storage room in the back with a table and chairs and a door to the alleyway. The woman told Sara to wait and returned to the front of the store. Several minutes passed; then the door opened: Nina, dressed in a flatlander’s tunic and dark jacket and a long scarf that wrapped the lower half of her face.
“This is incredibly dumb, Sara. Do you know how dangerous this is?”
Sara stared into the woman’s steely eyes. Until this moment, she hadn’t realized how angry she was.
“You knew my daughter was alive, didn’t you?”
Nina was unwinding the scarf. “Of course we knew. That’s what we do, Sara: we know things, then we put the information to use. I’d think you’d be happy about it.”
“How long?”
“Does that matter?”
“Yes, damnit, it matters.”
Nina gave her a hard look. “All right, suppose we’ve known all along. Supposing we’d told you. What would you have done? Don’t bother to answer. You would have gone off half-cocked and done something stupid. You wouldn’t have made it ten steps into the Dome without blowing your cover. If it’s any consolation, there was a good deal of discussion about this. Jackie thought you should know. But the prevailing opinion was that the success of the operation came first.”
“Prevailing opinion. Meaning yours.”
“Mine and Eustace’s.” For a moment, Nina’s expression seemed to soften. But only for a moment. “Don’t take it so hard. You got what you wanted. Be happy.”
“What I want is to get her out of there.”
“Which is what we’re counting on, Sara. And we’ll get her out, in time.”
“When?”
“I think that should be obvious. When all of this is over.”
“Are you blackmailing me?”
Nina shrugged off the accusation. “Don’t misunderstand me—it’s not something I’m particularly averse to. But in this case, I don’t have to.” She looked at Sara carefully. “What do you think happens to those girls?”
“What do you mean, ‘girls’? My daughter’s the only one.”
“She is now. But she’s not the first. There’s always another Eva. Giving Lila a child is the only way Guilder can keep her calm.