In spite of the darkness, Johanna did not fall asleep. The low hum of the electric engine and muffled sounds from the outside would usually have sent her into a slumber. Nerves, though, kept her alert. Every time the van stopped, Johanna listened intently to the noise outside, hoping to hear familiar sounds. Every time she was disappointed.

The truck stopped once more, voices were louder this time, someone was talking to the driver. Next came shouting, something was not right. Johanna's heart pumped faster, her legs jittered up and down, she hoped they would not search the back. Her concern became a reality. The door slide upwards, light flooded in, Johanna's hands clenched, her whole body shook. She had been found. In panic she ripped the chip from her hair, not out of self-preservation but in case they linked it back to Solomon's gang. If they took him, she would never find her daughter. Throwing the chip on the floor, Johanna stamped as hard as she could. She heard a crack, but to be safe repeatedly brought her foot down upon the device.

"No need for that, we've scanned the van already," came a voice.

Johanna looked up and saw her reflection in a highly polished visor.

~

She cried, it was all she could do. Her dream had cracked and fallen, shattering into a thousand pieces. However, Johanna was more moved by the feeling of this place, how she was cleaned, almost violated, the personal probing and intimate questions. The feeling of the unknown, sitting, waiting in her cell to be called; made all the worse knowing Kira had been through this too.

She grunted in frustration, scratching again, her skin become red roar. This infernal jumpsuit was so itchy. Johanna had considered ripping it off, but that would appear as if she was protesting; she was in enough trouble without giving her captors another reason to mistreat her. She knew if she annoyed them they would dispose of her. Best to play the game, get on their good side, hope to be sold into slavery or given a menial job in the city. She could then reassemble the shards of her dream and plan her escape.

Some food slid under the door, no word mentioned, no signal to state it was mealtime. The sustenance sat on a flimsy cardboard plate atop a bright red plastic tray, next stood some water in a small luminous green cup; the colour scheme an assault on the senses. There was no cutlery, nothing that would aid any escape plan. Johanna looked forlornly at the selection of cheese, meat and bread on the plate. It was sorrowful that this meagre meal was more than she tended to eat on a good day. Whilst she ate, Johanna forgot about her woes, picking up slices of cheese and ham, placing them delicately onto a slice of bread then biting slowly, savouring the taste and freshness. She wondered, 'if this is how prisoners eat then what does everyone else in the city eat?' Her mind conjured up images of great feasts with exotic foods, foods she had only ever heard of. Once finished, she placed the empty cup and plate on the tray and put it in front of the door where it had been slid in. She may be a prisoner but there was no excuse for bad manners.

Sitting back on her hard bed, the wave of emotion washed over her once more. The tears returned, the images of her daughter being beaten by some cruel master, if she was still alive, as well as her husband suffering in the research laboratory. She tried to tell herself it would be fine, that they would find each other one day, even if it took years, but the lie did not convince her enough to stop crying.

Hours passed, the sobbing receded at times but always returned. Johanna looked up at a clunking sound. The door swung open and two guards walked in, one carrying handcuffs and the other with his gun trained on her lest she try a daring and foolhardy escape.

Observing Johanna's glistening face, handcuffs looked to his mate and jokingly said, "look, we've got a crier."

Before Johanna could control her emotions she snapped back, "you would cry if your family were torn from you."

"Well you shouldn't have broken the law, then you wouldn't be in here. Masquerading as a full Princips citizen, your just slum scum, it's about time we killed the lot of you. Too many of your kind sneaking into the city, bringing your dirt and illnesses with you. You're nothing more than a virus."

Wisely, Johanna stayed sat on the bed, using all her restraint not to swing at them. That small glimmer of hope holding her back.

After a moments silence, handcuffs said, "up." His voice was not as commanding as he would have liked but Johanna followed the instruction anyway, she had decided to play by the rules and stuck by her decision. He gestured to her to turn around, which she did. Roughly he pulled her arms behind her and secured them in the handcuffs. As they marched her out of the room, gun jabbed her in the back to keep her moving forward. There was no need, Johanna was a willing follower of instructions. It was a sign they were in charge, but Johanna took it as a feeling of insecurity, fear of what a slum dweller might do to them. She did not wince at the pain, did not slouch or moan, in fact she made it appear as if the blow had not happened. She would follow the rules, play the game, be a good girl, but she would do it on her terms.

~

Johanna stood silently amongst the shouts and jeers, her companions deemed it useful to make their points heard despite being locking in a cage. Whilst they vented their anger, she observed, making mental notes of the best way out of the situation. Her fate was not in her hands, but any advantage she had she would use. As well as the cage she stood in, Johanna noted two more to her right. The closest one had few people in it, the other fewer still. Neither of these other cages' inhabitants had the fight of those in hers, in fact they looked increasing desolate; gaunt and deprived of energy.

They appeared to be in a large room, something like a warehouse. They were to the side of a raised stage, the floodlights on this meant it felt dark in their captive area. It also meant that Johanna was able to see out across the room. Dressed in the finest clothes and sipping champagne from ornate wine glasses stood a multitude of people, they chatted and laughed, ignoring the clamour from the cages. Young men and women served them, showing too much leg and chest. The waiters walked round holding polished silver trays, attending to every whim. They did not say much, well not that Johanna could conceive from what lipreading she managed to do, but they nodded a lot and hurried about their business. Even though this place appeared to be a relic of some industrial revolution, Princips did everything they could to woo their guests.

Johanna tried to pick out who she wanted to be her new owner, who she felt would treat her well, give her the inch she wanted so she could run the miles she needed. Someone's face, their mannerisms, told you so much about the person inside. She managed to narrowed it down to three candidates before a clang silenced the cage. This lasted but a fleeting moment, one inhabitant bravely shouting to their captors, "you ain't gonna sell me." A raucous chorus of cheers met this.

The guard shouted, "silence," smashing her truncheon against the cage once more. This eradicated the supporting din, but the man who shouted was not to be silenced.

"And what are you going to do about it?"

"Say something else and you'll find out."

The man responded by spitting through the cage, his aim strong, landing the foaming liquid onto the guards suit. With a nod of her head, two of her colleagues appeared at the door, one held a gun whilst the other unlocked the cage and opened it. The wronged guard stepped through the gap. Strength others lost when told to be silent evaporated further, all stepped back at once, crushing their kin against the sides of the cage to leave only the offender standing firm. The guard raised her knee into his groin, with a muted grunt he fell to the floor. Other inhabitants would have gasped but bit their tongues lest they were on the receiving end as well. The guard dragged the man by his hair onto the stage so everyone could observe the price of disobedience. She pushed him down and stood tall, waiting till the cage door had been locked and everyone was watching. The man looked as though he was about to say something, a wise remark or vile attack, before his mouth could open she brought her truncheon down across his face. A dull crack was met with a splatter of blood. Defiantly he looked up at her once more, blood dribbling down his chin, "you won't get..." The sentence never finish, instead a louder crack echoed around the room. Every eye watched in shock, winced at the pain, tried not to stare at the increasing pool of blood on the floor.

Still the lesson was not learnt, with every ounce of strength left the main raised his head once more. Through the pain, past loose teeth, he spat. No longer a foaming mixture, now a slash of crimson arcing through the air. It exploded on her leg, he had aimed for the torso but no longer had the power. Her response was to shake her head, "some people never learn." She turned away for a second, nodding to one of her colleagues. If the crack of bones had been like a slammed door in a small room, the gunshot was like an atomic bomb, bouncing off every wall, taking purchase in every ear. Even those that had turned away, averted eyes and held hands over ears could not escape the intensity.

Johanna watched a streak of red paint appear, heard the eerie rustling as they dragged away the body. She felt sad, all they needed was a plan, to know the right time and place to revolt. They were herded sheep and Princips was the dog, there was nowhere to run now, but in the night the dog would sleep next to its master, then they could make the escape. All she needed to do was get picked, then the real plan could take place. Johanna closed her eyes, breathed in deeply, and told herself not to snap, to use the anger inside her to make her appear useful. She did not know how she would do that, but for the moment she kept quiet, better to make no impression than a bad one.

A man stepped into the light, he could be best described as a camp game show host. Like those he tried to impress, he dressed for a black-tie event. The difference here being he had more sparkle. He wore a black tuxedo, suit trousers and white shirt. The outfit, however, seemed to flash, tiny LEDs fading from blue to red then green and yellow before circling back round. He teamed this up with a luminous green cummerbund and bow tie. His face was clean shaven, and he had slicked back mousey brown hair. He was clearly nearing fifty but trying to look younger.

He spoke with a cheesy grin and over enthusiastic tone. "Well friends, sorry about that incident, but we only sell obedient models here." The gloss of the presentation was slightly overshadowed by the low hum of a power mop behind him, washing the floor and hoovering up the resulting mix of blood and soap. The compère continued as if this was not happening, "well, ladies and gentlemen, let's not waste any more time, and get this show on the road."

A short snippet of a rock tune played whilst the lights on stage flashed an array of colours. In this time the consumers had stepped closer, ready for the auction to take place. The lights returned to bright yellow. "You're in for a treat tonight, we have some excellent talent for you." He had obviously forgotten about the incident that had occurred. "Without further ado, let's bring out your choices."

The guards returned to the cage. Not even attempting to be understated, they swung the door open, releasing the clattering once more. The first person they came across was grasped by the arm and pulled to the door. With a series of hand gestures and nods they got all the inhabitants out of the cage and lined up on stage facing the audience. It was as if they would spread disease if touched, so the guards tried to manhandle them as little as possible. Soon enough the potential buyers were staring at a line of nervous men and women in identical grey jumpsuits, visibly shaking and trying their best to avoid eye contact. Johanna felt fairly confident in the cage, secure in the sanctuary it provided. Out here she was laid bare, naked in front of a panel of judges, every weakness exposed, all strengths melting away.

One guard pushed the first slave down and the others follow suit, like small children watching for a cue as how they should behave. None dared to misbehaviour lest they ended up in the afterlife like their over exuberant acquaintance.

"Ladies and gentleman, here are our great recruits," the compère stated, walking down the line and swinging his arm back, presenting them as nothing more than a prize to win, the human equivalent of a fridge freezer or dishwasher.

The crowd came onto the stage in an orderly fashion and walked down the line, taking in each person. They crouched, looked, poked and asked the compare questions despite holding tablets with all the inmates details on them. This was more akin to a farmer choosing a new cow rather than deciding who would be the best worker.

Johanna's nerves were as high as they had ever been, every time someone looked at her or showed the slightest bit of interest her heart beat faster. As the auction continued it became clearer and clearer that there was little interest in her. Her heart sank, her plan would not happen this time. All too soon she was back in the cage. Those that had been chosen by more than one owner were argued over, a final price decided on by the rich people shouting out how much they were willing to pay. The price crept up and up until one person won. Johanna noticed that this did not happen to those who had been chosen by only one person. She presumed each slave had a price, if one of the rich had chosen them then that is what was paid.

Johanna sank into the corner of the cage, tears returning. The light of hope dimmed. Through the sobs she watched as the second and third cages went onto the stage and were examined with less and less enthusiasm. She guessed she would move down to the second cage at the next auction, then on to the third. Whatever happened after that was anyone's guess, Johanna just hoped she did not find out.