From the absolute steadiness of her expression, it was obvious Leslie had been prepared for and unconcerned by the question. “The airstream surrounding the Citadel is a countermeasure in case Shepherd unleashes the virus before our bombs might cleanse it from existence.”

The virus was airborne, heavy winds would only spread it faster. Her excuse was so lacking in substance, that Corday could not contain his feelings of despair. “Without protection from the elements, it will grow uninhabitable in the city. You’ve condemned our people to the Undercroft.”

“Really, Corday... you can be so dramatic.” Waving him off, Leslie marched to the edge of the roof, assuring the only way Corday might hear her continued explanation was to follow at her heels like a dog. “Yes, it will be difficult at first. Given the state of manufacturing and resources, projections show it will take four years to repair the damage. In the meantime, citizens unnecessary to the immediate reconstruction of the Dome will be safe underground. Those key to the effort of restoring our city will find sanctuary in the Premier’s Sector.”

Some would live in grandeur and luxury while others wasted away in the dark. “I see.”

She hesitated, looked him in the eye. “This was the only way to ensure change. Sacrifice must come from all of us.”

And what was she going to sacrifice?

He hated her in that moment. Even so, he nodded as if he understood. Staring down at the madness, Corday found that the number of angry citizens circling the Citadel had increased, compacting into a single waving mass working to reach the steps.

Followers were shooting at them like fish in a barrel.

They were dying for nothing, in fact they would all die should Leslie’s bombs detonate. Cutting a glance back to the smirking woman at his side, he knew she saw his distrust. It seemed pointless to continue his charade. After all, he’d already condemned them all.

Corday’s lip almost shook when he asked. “He told me your name is Svana. Is it true?”

The corners of her mouth curved up from smirk to smile. Impudent, she asked, the question coming out as absolute confirmation, “Who?”

Behind them a rough edged voice rang out. “It’s time, Svana. Shepherd has sent me. He wishes to negotiate the terms of his surrender.”

Like Leslie, he’d appeared with no sound.

No longer was Shepherd’s minion dressed in the blacks of Followers. He looked like any other civilian. Or he would have, if he didn’t have such a massive firearm resting in slack arms.

Turning her back to the carnage below, Leslie held up her hand, signaling to her men all was well. Once they had lowered their weapons, she offered a twisted greeting. “Jules, I expected you sooner. Hasn’t this gone on long enough?”