Incarceron (Incarceron, Book 1) by Catherine Fisher Page A

"Sometimes I wonder why I bothered."
    Finn swallowed. "You bothered because no one else would put up with your pride, your arrogance, and your thieving ways. You bothered because you saw I would be as reckless as you. And when you take on Jormanric you'll need me at your back."
    Keiro raised a sardonic eyebrow. "What makes you think--"
    "You will one day. Maybe soon. So help me in this, brother, and I'll help you." He frowned. "Please. It means a lot to me."
    "You're obsessed with this stupid idea that you came from Outside."
    "Not stupid. Not to me."
    "You and the Sapient. A pair of fools together." When he didn't answer, Keiro laughed harshly. "You were born in Incarceron, Finn. Accept it. No one comes in from Outside. No one Escapes! Incarceron is sealed. We were all born here and we'll all die here. Your mother dumped you and you can't remember her. The bird-scar is just some tribemark. Forget it."
    He wouldn't. He couldn't. He said stubbornly, "I wasn't born here. I can't remember being a child, but I was one. I
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    can't remember how I got here, but I wasn't bred out of some artificial womb of wires and chemicals. And this"--he held up his wrist--"will prove it."
    Keiro shrugged. "Sometimes I think you're still out of your head."
    Finn scowled. Then he stalked back up the stairs. At the top he had to step over something crouched there in the dark. It looked like Jormanric's dog-slave, straining at the end of its chain to reach a bowl of water that some joker had placed just out of reach. Finn kicked the bowl nearer and strode on.
    The slave's chain clanked.
    Through its tangle of hair, its small eyes watched him walk away.
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    ***
    It was decided from the beginning that the location of Incarceron should be known only to the Warden. All criminals, undesirables, political extremists, degenerates, lunatics would
    be transported there. The Gate would be sealed and the Experiment commence. It was vital
    that nothing should disturb the delicate balance of Incarceron's programming, which would
    provide everything needed--education, balanced
    diet, exercise, spiritual welfare, and purposeful
    work--to create a paradise. ;
    One hundred and fifty years have passed.
    The Warden reports that progress is excellent.
    --Court Archives 4302/6
    ***
    "That was so delicious!" Lord Evian wiped his plump lips with a white napkin. "You really must let me have the receipt, my dear."
    Claudia stopped tapping her nails on the cloth and smiled brightly. "I'll have someone copy it for you, my lord."
    Her father was watching from the head of the table, the crumbs of his ascetic breakfast of two dry rolls gathered nearly in a pile on the side of his plate. Like her he had finished at
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    least half an hour ago, but his impatience was hidden with iron control. If he was impatient. She didn't even know.
    Now he said, "His Lordship and I will ride out this morning, Claudia, and take a brief lunch at one p.m. exactly. Afterward we will resume our negotiations."
    Over my future, she thought, but only nodded, noticing the fat lord's dismay. He couldn't be such a fool as he seemed or the Queen wouldn't have sent him, and though he tried hard, a few shrewd comments had slipped out. But he was hardly a rider.
    The Warden was aware of that. Her father had a grim humor.
    As she stood he rose with her, meticulously polite, and drew the small gold watch from his pocket. The timepiece gleamed. It was beautiful, digitally accurate, and totally out of Era. It was his one eccentricity, the watch and the chain and the tiny silver cube that hung from it.
    He said, "Perhaps you'd touch the bell, Claudia. I'm afraid we've kept you long enough from your studies."
    She went quickly to the green tassel by the hearth and he added without raising his head, "I spoke to Master Jared in the garden earlier. He looked very pale. How is his health these days?"
    Her fingers froze a fraction from the bell. Then she pulled it firmly. "He's well, sir. Very well."
    He put the