The Interrogation of Ashala Wolf (The Tribe) by Ambelin Kwaymullina

wasn’t the Illegal rebel I was talking about — it was the other Serpent!
But I knew they’d never believe that.
    “If you like, Ashala,” Neville told me, “you could talk to me here. Whatever it is that you’ve gotten caught up in, I’m sure you wouldn’t want people to be hurt.”
    His voice was gently hopeful, and Wentworth responded to it, smiling encouragingly in my direction. Neville was standing slightly in front of her, though, so she couldn’t see what I did — the hint of something in his features that wasn’t grandfatherly kindness. He was angry. No matter what I said or did now, Neville was never going to stop until he’d extracted every scrap of knowledge from my mind. Dr. Wentworth couldn’t save me. No one could. It was the most awful feeling to stand close to someone who was trying to help and know that I was completely alone.
I carry my friends with me,
I reminded myself, calling up images of Ember and Georgie and the rest of the Tribe.
I carry my friends with me.
The memory of their faces gave me enough strength to hold Neville’s eyes with mine as I slowly shook my head.
    Wentworth slumped in disappointment, and Neville sighed. “Then I’m afraid I am going to have to ask you some questions, Ashala. You agree it’s necessary, Rae?”
    “Yes . . . I mean, if there’s going to be an attack . . .”
    She sounded uncertain, and Neville asked in an amused tone, “What do you think I’m going to do, torture her?” He laughed, and Wentworth did, too, somewhat sheepishly.
    “Of course not! I’m sorry — it’s been a long day.” She shot a glance at me, but I just stared flatly back, knowing she’d achieve nothing by continuing to come to my defense. And there was no point in putting her at risk for nothing, not when the other detainees in this place needed a Mender as good as Wentworth. My lack of response must have finally convinced her, because, looking relieved, she said to Neville, “You’ll bring her back if she shows signs of a relapse?”
    He smiled his best grandpa smile. “Naturally.”
    I made myself take deep, even breaths as the Chief Administrator ushered my only ally out the room, watched as he closed the door behind her, and swung back to me. His usual air of benevolent kindness had vanished with Wentworth, and I didn’t much like what was left behind. “You know,” he said, “it really would be best if you confessed what you knew. Justin has reported that you mentioned the Serpent, and Cambergull.”
    It took every ounce of strength I had to keep my face blank. Cambergull? How could I possibly have let that slip? It hadn’t even been in the dream.
    Neville waited for a few moments, then asked, “Exactly what were you doing in Cambergull the day you were captured?”
    Gathering my courage, I achieved a casual shrug. “I went to check out the new Bureau of Citizenship office.”
    His brows drew together, and his mouth hardened. I knew he’d heard that lie before. Bry would have repeated it to him, because it was exactly what I’d told her and the rest of the Tribe, except for Ember.
    Only Neville didn’t believe it, not anymore.

“Bring her to the machine.” Neville strode out, leaving us to follow.
    Connor and I began walking, eventually emerging from the cool corridors of the hospital into the warm afternoon air. I tipped my face to the sun, savoring the few precious minutes of being outside. Connor was watching me, but I ignored him. There simply wasn’t any point in wasting my energy on arguing with him, or even speaking to him, not when I had to conserve all my strength for what was to come. The wind picked up, swirling through the center, and I caught a distinct hint of eucalyptus. My towering tuarts. I inhaled, drawing the cleansing scent into my lungs as I called out to the trees in my head:
If I could make it back to you, I would
. Except that wasn’t going to happen, because Neville would have me hooked up to that machine until I was broken or