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

dead. My only real hope was that the stress of the ordeal would kill me before I gave him the information he was searching for. They’d probably tell Wentworth I died while trying to escape. I smiled, thinking that it wouldn’t even be a lie.
    The world seemed to be receding around me as we entered the building that held the machine, or maybe it was me that was receding from the world, withdrawing into myself. I clung to that feeling of detachment, thankful for the sense of distance that made it seem like it was some other girl who was walking into the windowless room, drinking the vial of stay-awake liquid, and being strapped into the dreadful chair. Grey fussed over the box with Neville at her side, while Connor removed my collar, fitting the final restraint around my neck and the hoop around my head. He retreated to stand beside the door, and I found myself bizarrely transfixed by his uniform, wondering why it had gone all fuzzy and sparkly around the edges. Then I realized that the entire room was filled with faintly blurring shapes and odd swirls of light.
    I focused on the tiny flecks of color that now seemed to dance across the composite wall, following them to the ceiling. I smiled in delight at the twinkling field of reds and blues and greens and yellows and pinks. It suddenly struck me as very important that every single one of those miniature lights had once been something else, before they got put into the recyclers to make composite. Maybe they’d come from awful things, like the remains of old-world factories or weapons. Now they were part of something useful, something you could build stuff from. It seemed a shame, though, that they’d been made into a detention center.
When Illegals finally get rid of the Citizenship Accords,
I promised the lights silently,
you can be a house
. No, this place was too big for a house. Perhaps a school? A library?
    Neville approached and loomed over the chair, distracting me from the starry ceiling. “Is there anything you’d like to tell me before we begin, Ashala?”
    “Yes,” I replied solemnly. “Nothing ever truly ends, only transforms.”
    He made an exasperated noise. “There’s no need to put yourself through this ordeal. Why don’t you help yourself and tell me what you know about the Serpent’s attack?”
    “He’s not attacking anything. He’s sleeping in the water.”
    “What water? Where?”
    “In the Balance. And everywhere else, too.” My gaze drifted to the lights again, finding comfort in the sight of all those tiny, twirling spirits. Maybe I’d float up to be with them if the machine killed me. Except I wouldn’t want to be part of a detention center. I called out to them hopefully, “I’d like to be a wolf!”
    Neville peered into my eyes and shot a frowning glance at Grey. “What exactly did you give her?”
    “She lost consciousness after the last time she was on the machine, even with the drug. I thought it advisable to administer a higher dose.”
    “I need her coherent!”
    “I don’t see why it matters,” Grey protested. “It’s my machine that will get you your answers.”
    “Your machine can be something of a blunt instrument, Miriam.”
    “I keep telling you, I’ve improved it. It’s much better than it used to be.”
    “It is still far from perfect, and she
will
resist it. She’ll be of no further use to me if her brain ends up completely scrambled.”
    He came closer, patting my hand where it lay confined in the padded restraint. “Ashala, I need you to concentrate. Talk to me about the Serpent. What do you know about his plans?”
    “Nothing.” I sighed. “The Serpent said I’d forgotten his story.”
    He didn’t seem happy with that answer, and I felt bad for disappointing him, especially when he’d asked so nicely. Then an idea occurred to me. “Maybe I can tell you your story instead.”
    “I’m not interested in my story, Ashala.”
    That was a silly thing to say, but maybe he didn’t realize how