I am filled with the deepest regret.

When I glance at Ali, I detect that she is also feeling the same as I. Yet we both remain silent, muted by our own sense of senseless wrongdoing.

I recall, over and over our Blue Dissenters expressing the importance of having our beams covered during nightfall. Yet, in our moment of raging madness, we ignored their warnings, and have thus risked the safety of an entire community and their life's work.

I am aware of The Cutters staring at us. But they do not look at us with disdain; instead their faces show a look of questioning disappointment.

I want to scream 'SORRY' – but what good is sorry, when the damage is done. And I have always thought 'sorry' to be such a useless word, a word most often used to assuage a person's guilt. If we live: good, kind and contributing lives, 'sorry' shouldn't have to be part of our vocabulary.

And right now, I will not insult these good people before me by using futile words.

When I do find the words, they fall from me, small and pathetic, "You are right to be disappointed with us," I say, not knowing what else I can say.

I feel a hand on my shoulder – it is Ali's, "Blue is blameless, it is I who is responsible for the situation that we now find ourselves in," she says, squeezing my shoulder. I go to speak, but Ali gets there before me, "I was consumed by that most destructive of human emotions; the monster that is jealousy raged over me, making me take leave of my senses." She takes her hand from me and walks forward, addressing Madam Cyn directly, "I assure you, I will go out there and give my life to defend you and these proud people from the threat of Postulant discovery." 

I walk forward and stand by Ali, "And I will join her in battle," I say, in solidarity.

Beside me, I can feel the quiver in Ali's body as she looks ahead at The Cutters and says, "The hate you have for us is wholly understandable."

But slowly, with a synching, steady pace, The Cutters begin to swivel their heads and we hear a murmuring mumble of, "No hate," ringing out like a melodious chorus.

Cyn walks towards us, her head also swivels and her expression is softened from what it was previously. She stops in front of us, outstretches her arms and pulls us both into her, holding us in a strong embrace, "You girls will never have hate here, only hugs – healing hugs," she says.

She relaxes her grip on us and backs away. And as she does, Ali and I are overcome by the most amazing sight – all of The Cutters walk towards us and surround us in a group hug of the most marvellous and wondrous proportions.

###

Slowly The Cutters begin to disband from us and walk away, chattering gaily amongst each other as they go. Cyn remains, and I ask, "How can you forgive us so readily; when just moments previous you expressed such profound disappointment in us?"

She smiles, "Because Ali's explanation was: honest, heartfelt, and succinct; and you didn't give grovelling apology. We understand how our emotions can overtake us and lead us into mistake and mishap," she says, with a forgiving understanding.

I notice the boy from the dinner table walking towards us with quite a pace; and I'm surprised that the sight of him makes my heart leap. "And I can understand your jealousy, I myself would be jealous of a boy like Jake." He says, holding his hand out towards Ali, "I'm Jethro," he says. Ali takes his hand and smiles wide, "How do you know that it was I who was jealous?" 

He turns to me, offering his hand in greeting, "Let's just call it Cutters instinct – and I'd like to say, I'm proud to share my 'J' with Jake," he says, shaking my hand firmly.

I am beguiled by Jethro's bright smile, but somewhat bewildered by his attire. His feet are bound in thick leather, which rides high up his legs. Metal plating is bound tight around his upper body, and his head is covered by a close fitting metal casing. I am about to enquire about his apparel, but we are distracted by a similarly clad girl who marches forth toward us, "I am Armina," she says, acknowledging both Ali and I with a smiling head nod.

She does not offer us her hand, for both of them are full – with a fierce looking armoury of weapons. She off-loads some to Jethro, and inserts the remaining weapons into designated carriers on her armoured attire. When she's satisfied all is in place, she offers us her hand, "It is a pleasure to meet you both." 

We are awed as more similarly dressed and armed girls stride towards us. We do not need to ask, for it is evidently clear that they are prepared to fight. Ali speaks up, "Surely we must do battle with you; we want to help make good our wrong," she says, with a passionate enthusiasm that I share.

Cyn is emphatic, "No, you are both with child, and your recent extreme travels means you are physically ill prepared for fight." She walks closer, "And importantly, you can help us by providing us with your intelligence." 

Ali responds, "What do you need to know?" she asks, with a profound interest.

Cyn gestures for Jethro and Armina to come forward.

With Jethro and Armina standing attentively in front of us, Cyn begins – "Our greatest enemy is the person who continues to curtail the freedoms of women in the society that we have had to flee. The person who continues to force out-dated Compulsory Governmental Intervention (CGI) on our female children. This person now knows of our sanctuary and is determined to deter us from completing our cut through, and discovering the wonders and freedoms of the other side. We also know that at the first sign of an identifying beam, this person will send her fighters our way." She pauses and throws her arms out to the armoured cutters, "But as you can see, we are prepared for them." 

Jethro and Armina nod their heads in a strong show of solidarity and determination.

Cyn continues, "There is a slim chance that this person may accompany her people tonight, and if so: Jethro, Armina and The Cutters must have the knowledge to identify this person." 

Ali becomes enthused and speaks up, "I know this person of whom you speak," she says, with confidence.

"Have you met this person?" Asks Cyn.

Ali nods her head, "Yes, I have had the misfortune to meet Petra, Governess of Postulant Prison and perpetuator of the Plantations!" 

Cyn, Jethro and Armina smile in unison and there is an audible gasp from The Cutters at Ali's knowledge. Cyn moves forward, "Describe her physical appearance to us; for her capture, alive or dead, is paramount for our continued cut through and success." 

Ali takes a breath, "She is unmistakeable, for her appearance is as formidable as her governance. She stands over six feet tall, with a lean and athletic physique; her hair is flaming red which highlights the milky paleness of her silken skin – she cuts a most strikingly beautiful figure." 

Armina looks at Jethro, before throwing a lingering glance at Ali, "She sounds like my type of woman," she says, with a winking eye.

At this, the assembled Cutters chuckle, causing Cyn to intervene, "Curtail yourself Armina, remember you are going to make war, not love," she says, causing the Cutters to laugh some more.

I am struck by the incongruity of the mood; these people before me are set to do battle; yet the atmosphere is one of joviality.

Once again, Cyn interjects, "Now remember, it is highly unlikely that Petra will risk putting herself on the frontline. But in the event that she does, I think you'll all agree that Alison has painted a very vivid picture of her appearance; and for that we are most grateful," she says, respectfully nodding at Ali.

I observe Ali, she is twitchy with a nervous energy. She shuffles forward and addresses: Cyn, Jethro, Armina and myself, in a hushed voice, "It is with confidence that I can say Petra will most definitely lead her people in this fight, tonight," she says, in a tone that seems intended to hide what she has to say from The Cutters.

"How can you be so sure?" asks Cyn.

Ali shuffles further forward, and lowers her tone once more, "I have something she wants, something I took with me upon my escape from Postulant Prison." 

Cyn's face takes on a look of intrigue, "What could you possibly have that Petra, Governor of Postulant Prison, would put herself at personal risk to come here and take back from you?" she asks, her eyes searching over Ali for signs of concealed contraband.

Ali's sorrow moistened eyes focus nervously on me, then flit from: Cyn, Jethro, and Armina. Eventually she lowers her head, places her hand on her stomach, and whispers, "I have her first Grandchild..."