Masquerade ✔

Chapter 49

"All of our workers sleep here," he said as they walked. "But since I've been told you don't have a home at the moment, that shouldn't be a problem. And no family to worry about either, correct?"

"No, sir."

"Excellent, excellent."

They arrived at the foreman's office. "Amyeliana," the foreman said to himself as he wrote down the name. He closed the book. "You can go through there and change into a uniform." He pointed to a door leading from his office. "You can keep your own shoes, though. And I'll figure out which department to put you in."

Clara did as he told her, but was immensely grateful that she could keep her shoes. The flour packets were tucked away nicely, and she didn't want to take them out until it was time to use them.

The uniforms were simple: gray blouses and gray skirts. But at least it didn't look too constricting; that would be essential in making their escape.

"You can put your old clothes in that bag," the foreman instructed, pointing to one sitting on the floor. "And your oxygen filter in this box." He pointed to one sitting on his desk.

Clara nodded. After she gave up her oxygen filter, she watched the foreman stack it along the wall with several other of the same boxes. That was good to know. They would need them before leaving the factory.

"Follow me." He took her out of the office and up a few flights of stairs. Clara tried to remember what path they were taking and compare it to her last visit to the factory. Once she found an opening to go find Ezra, she would need to move quickly.

"Sit here." They arrived in a room with four rows of tables and chairs. Most of the seats were occupied, but the table the foreman instructed Clara to sit at was empty. "The workers here will be coming back from break in a few moments," he said. "You'll take your breaks with them."

Clara nodded. "What do I do here?"

"See these?" He picked up two pieces of metal from a basket on the table. "You put them together, like this." He snapped them together. "Once you finish the basket, bring it to that side of the room." He pointed to a table that ran along a wall. "And then pick up a new basket from the other side." He pointed across the room.

That was it? But Clara held her tongue. "Right. I understand."

"Get to work."

The foreman left and Clara sat down. The work itself wasn't difficult, not like what Ezra must be going through, but Clara could guess that putting together these small gears for hours and hours on end with no rest would be taxing, eventually.

Her suspicions were confirmed when the rest of her row came back into the room. Clara could get a good look at them, and they looked tired and stressed. The woman next to Clara had red, raw fingers, and she gave Clara a suspicious look.

"You're new?"

Clara nodded.

She snorted. "You're a fool, then," she said. "You never should have come here."

Clara gave a weak smile, but didn't say anything. She just looked down and did her work.

Even if the rest of the workers here didn't know what they were putting together, Clara did. She recognized the gear configuration; it was the same type of style that were in the messenger mice. Clara couldn't be sure what they would do inside of an automated worker, but given the size, it would probably go into the fingers or brain of the machine.

After only an hour in, Clara was about to go insane. The work was so dull, her fingers hurt, and she found herself longing to be washing Araminta's entire closet of clothing.

Clara also found herself wondering what was stopping anyone from getting up and leaving. No one watched the group, and the doorway didn't even have a door. It was completely open.

"Hey," Clara whispered to the woman next to her. She didn't even know why she was whispering, but it felt like the right thing to do.

The woman didn't reply, but glanced at Clara out of the corner of her eye.

"What's stopping you from just walking out of here?"

The woman smirked. "Try getting up," she hissed.

Clara narrowed her eyes slightly, but figured she might as well. But when she tried to stand up, her chair wouldn't budge. It was like she was locked in.

"No one can get up unless it's time for your break," the woman said. "The only rooms that have guards are where workers are on their feet."

Clara pressed her lips together. "What happens if there's an emergency?" she whispered. "And we need to all get out?"

The woman glanced around. "There's a failsafe switch for it," she whispered. "But it's heavily guarded, not far from where we sleep."

Clara nodded and turned back to her work. The last thing she wanted to do was start an emergency and leave hundreds of workers trapped inside. But the failsafe switch might be an answer.

The ten hours until the next break crawled by. If Clara could slip away during her first two-hour break, she would have plenty of time to get to Ezra, get out, and get back up to the airship.

But her luck wasn't that good.

"Come on." Ten hours after starting her work, Clara felt her chair click free, and the woman next to her motioned for Clara to follow her. "I'll show you where our bunks are."

Clara couldn't argue, she had no reason to, so she just followed the other woman out of the room. They went upstairs to the bunk room, which Clara recognized from her last visit.

"Take one of those." Gray packets sat on a table just inside of the room. "It's all the food you're going to get until the next break."

Clara nodded and eagerly took a packet and ripped it open. She ate most of what was inside—a mix of dried food and crackers—on her way to the cot. There was a small water bottle inside of the packet as well, which Clara drained.

"Now try to get some sleep," the woman advised. She sat down on a cot.

Clara nodded. She was starving. No wonder everyone here was so thin. It was worse than the rations they got in Clara's dwelling. She hoped that Ezra and the other workers in the forge got something more. They would need something to keep up their energy.

Clara tossed and turned for the first hour of her break. She knew she needed to sleep, but she was too anxious, her brain too active. And when she did finally get some rest, it felt like just a moment later an alarm sounded, waking her up.

"That's the failsafe." The woman who sat next to her whispered in Clara's ear behind her. Clara glanced to the side out of the corner of her eye as they left the room. A panel of switches was at the end of the hall, an armed guard sitting in front of it.

Ten more hours. Ten more long, long hours. And Clara was running out of time. Her next break would happen before the wedding was set to take place, but the timing would be extremely tight.

Nine hours. Eight hours. Clara lost track of time. She felt her eyelids growing heavier and heavier, but she kept her fingers moving automatically.

Finally. Clara's chair clicked free. She stood up, but instead of heading toward the door, she first grabbed her neighbor's forearm.

"What are you doing?"

"If you see an opportunity to pull that failsafe," Clara whispered. "Do it."

The other woman gave Clara strange look as she pulled her arm away. Clara let everyone else file out of the room who was due for a break first, and then she followed them out. But when she got to the stairs, instead of going up, she headed down.