smelled so good! She hadn’t realized how famished she was until this moment.
David scampered around the table and pulled out the seat for her. “I was even able to find a chair that should be just right for your height … here you go!” She sat and found he was right: it put her at perfect table level. So many times, she found herself hunching over as she ate a meal in a restaurant. She found herself grateful — and impressed with this little touch — despite herself.
“I call this place The Cavern,” he said, pouring wine for both of them. “It’s an exclusive place — not everyone in the Glass Prison or even the Order of the Black Dove gets an invite here.”
“Yeah about that … the Black Dove. What does that stand for? Who came up with that goofy name?”
David feigned hurt. “Ohhhh. You wound me, Elspeth.” He grabbed his heart. “I came up with it.”
She laughed. “You did?”
“Yeah. I wanted something that sounded … you know. Mysterious. I mean, this prison has lots of gangs with their own bad-sounding names. I thought we should have one also.”
“But you’re not a gang. You have children in the Order, for crying out loud.”
David shrugged. “Still. This is a prison, even for the children. It’s a hard life for everyone, even them. I think they’ve earned the right to a bad-ass name. It makes them feel protected, like they’re a part of something also.”
“Can’t argue with you there. Listen. Can we eat? I am dying to …”
“Yes! By all means! We have steak here, and stuffing there, and pumpkin pie over here and …”
“Oh my God,” she said, her mouth already full of steak. “I have not had meat in weeks …”
She didn’t say another word for a full fifteen minutes. David kept the wine flowing, and she didn’t care one bit that a man watched her with amusement as she gorged herself.
FEELING QUITE a bit better in all sorts of ways, Elspeth became a lot more talkative.
“So you have guns,” she said. “There are enough of you to storm the Panopticon. I don’t know how many guards there are, but they don’t look like that many. Why don’t you try to escape by force?”
David laughed aloud heartily.
“What? What’s so funny about that?”
When he finally stopped laughing, he said: “Those guns you think we have are actually made of soap and painted with shoe polish. They’re not real guns at all.”
Not …?
“No. We carved them. We’ve gotten quite good at making ones that look pretty real. You could call it practical art.”
“Wow,” Elspeth said. “You could have fooled me.”
“We did fool you.” They both laughed. “But no, we’re not attacking the Panopticon armed with soap guns. Although … we do have plenty of knives: daggers. Shivs, and even makeshift short swords. Still. All that wouldn’t be nearly enough against the armory of weapons they’ve got in the Panopticon.” He pause for a moment and said: “So. Out there, in the real world, you’re a rich doctor. All this must have been quite a shock … taken some getting used to.”
“Not as rich as you think,” Elspeth said, taking another sip of wine, and really feeling it now. “See, everyone thinks doctors are rich. We’re not poor … but you’d be surprised at how not-rich we actually are. Here, I’ll tell you story about that.”
She paused for moment to wolf down some more and then resumed: “About ten years ago, Oscar — that’s my husband — Oscar and I, we had a daughter. I was just starting my own practice, and we didn’t have a lot of money yet. Anyway … these drug companies came calling. You know, Big Pharma. They have lots and lots of money. And they spend it — God, how they spend it!
“They have these salespeople who come and visit you. Always attractive! Did
David scampered around the table and pulled out the seat for her. “I was even able to find a chair that should be just right for your height … here you go!” She sat and found he was right: it put her at perfect table level. So many times, she found herself hunching over as she ate a meal in a restaurant. She found herself grateful — and impressed with this little touch — despite herself.
“I call this place The Cavern,” he said, pouring wine for both of them. “It’s an exclusive place — not everyone in the Glass Prison or even the Order of the Black Dove gets an invite here.”
“Yeah about that … the Black Dove. What does that stand for? Who came up with that goofy name?”
David feigned hurt. “Ohhhh. You wound me, Elspeth.” He grabbed his heart. “I came up with it.”
She laughed. “You did?”
“Yeah. I wanted something that sounded … you know. Mysterious. I mean, this prison has lots of gangs with their own bad-sounding names. I thought we should have one also.”
“But you’re not a gang. You have children in the Order, for crying out loud.”
David shrugged. “Still. This is a prison, even for the children. It’s a hard life for everyone, even them. I think they’ve earned the right to a bad-ass name. It makes them feel protected, like they’re a part of something also.”
“Can’t argue with you there. Listen. Can we eat? I am dying to …”
“Yes! By all means! We have steak here, and stuffing there, and pumpkin pie over here and …”
“Oh my God,” she said, her mouth already full of steak. “I have not had meat in weeks …”
She didn’t say another word for a full fifteen minutes. David kept the wine flowing, and she didn’t care one bit that a man watched her with amusement as she gorged herself.
FEELING QUITE a bit better in all sorts of ways, Elspeth became a lot more talkative.
“So you have guns,” she said. “There are enough of you to storm the Panopticon. I don’t know how many guards there are, but they don’t look like that many. Why don’t you try to escape by force?”
David laughed aloud heartily.
“What? What’s so funny about that?”
When he finally stopped laughing, he said: “Those guns you think we have are actually made of soap and painted with shoe polish. They’re not real guns at all.”
Not …?
“No. We carved them. We’ve gotten quite good at making ones that look pretty real. You could call it practical art.”
“Wow,” Elspeth said. “You could have fooled me.”
“We did fool you.” They both laughed. “But no, we’re not attacking the Panopticon armed with soap guns. Although … we do have plenty of knives: daggers. Shivs, and even makeshift short swords. Still. All that wouldn’t be nearly enough against the armory of weapons they’ve got in the Panopticon.” He pause for a moment and said: “So. Out there, in the real world, you’re a rich doctor. All this must have been quite a shock … taken some getting used to.”
“Not as rich as you think,” Elspeth said, taking another sip of wine, and really feeling it now. “See, everyone thinks doctors are rich. We’re not poor … but you’d be surprised at how not-rich we actually are. Here, I’ll tell you story about that.”
She paused for moment to wolf down some more and then resumed: “About ten years ago, Oscar — that’s my husband — Oscar and I, we had a daughter. I was just starting my own practice, and we didn’t have a lot of money yet. Anyway … these drug companies came calling. You know, Big Pharma. They have lots and lots of money. And they spend it — God, how they spend it!
“They have these salespeople who come and visit you. Always attractive! Did
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