“I trust you, Mayor Longsight,” Minnow says. “You must learn to trust yourself. This new teaching was given to you by our ancestors. There can be no doubt of this course.”

“But the blanks…” Mayor Longsight says. “The people want their destruction: they want victory.”

“And victory they will get: victory of a different sort. Be strong.”

There is a pause and when Longsight speaks again he sounds cold. “I am strong, Minnow. I know my mind – I am simply concerned for the people.”

“Understood.” Jack Minnow clears his throat.

Mel catches my arm. She leads me down the corridor, back to her rooms, and even when the door is shut behind us and we are safe we do not speak of what we’ve heard.

Instead, we fold up the memory of that conversation. We tuck it away for another time. One day it will make sense.

I am just afraid that by the time that happens, it will be too late.

Chapter Twenty

Exactly one week after Mayor Longsight was marked in the place of a guilty citizen, the people are once again called to gather in the square, and again, I am made to attend. We walk together, me, Mel and Obel – guards to our left and right, Karl Novak leading us. He doesn’t look my way this time.

Just before we reach the door that takes us to the back of the stage, Jack Minnow seizes my elbow, sending pain flashing up and down my arm.

“Just in case you were planning on doing something foolish, I thought I’d remind you not to. You haven’t forgotten your little blank friend, have you?” he growls. “Do as you’re told, Flint. That is all.” And with one last dig of his fingernails, he lets me go.

I stand at the side of the stage, waiting for the next show. Minnow’s warning has made me more nervous.

The crowd are more eager than ever – the mayor’s act of kindness towards the prisoner Phillip Knowles has thrilled them. Maybe they are hoping that they will be next.

He leaves them waiting, poised in the wings. The day is hot and close, the kind of sky that makes flies dozy and people aggressive. A chant goes up, the people calling his name like a magic rite. And when I think they might melt or explode or die with the heat, the energy, the thrall of it all, there is a squeal of feedback and the crowd is silent.

It takes only one step on to the stage for the whoops to restart, and Longsight wallows in their adulation. He is wearing a robe and the silken fabric sways against his arms as he holds his hands out either side of him. He basks in the glow of their screamed approval. He has never been so loved as this; and with love comes power.

“You are good to me,” Longsight begins. “I know that you have made sacrifices to be here today – you have closed your shops and market stalls, switched off your machines, cancelled meetings. Even the schools have let out their students.” There is an enthusiastic cheer at this – the pupils are in a large group near the front. The adults around them smile indulgently – give them their exuberance, let them feel the excitement of a disrupted school day. This doesn’t happen every day.