Apocalyptic Rebirth: With a repairman system space, she rises again.-Chapter 477: A Spy in the market.

The base was already excited about the first open market. Most residents had gone outside, taking their first steps into the world beyond their town for the first time since the apocalypse started.

Businesspeople were already planning what they would change on the next open market day. People were huddled in groups or crowded in bars, discussing the open market. 𝓯𝙧𝓮𝓮𝒘𝓮𝙗𝙣𝒐𝒗𝒆𝓵.𝓬𝓸𝒎

But the real drama was the market. It was the spy.

As soon as Joy was captured, rumor spread faster than wildfire in a dry canyon. By the time the gates were firmly locked and the sun dipped below the horizon, everyone knew: a winged woman had been arrested in the market. Her feathers were black. The priest, Father Nicodemus had stopped her from escaping by preaching a verse from the bible to her.

Of course, many thought the last part was ridiculous.

And then Zulu broke the story open with her own version of events during the 7 p.m. evening news broadcast.

"Breaking news!" squawked Zulu, "A spy in the open market! A spy in the market! A spy with wings like a raven’s, not shiny beautiful ones like mine. Or dusty ones like Brother Nicodemus. Oh no, these were spy wings, black as sin, and I saw her first."

All over the fortress, residents tuned in eagerly. Some had tried to get information out of the soldiers and superhumans, but they were tight lipped. Cell phones had been ringing off the hook, but zero information had been released. Zulu’s version, true or false was the first update they were getting.

The parrot puffed her feathers with self-importance that had a studio full of co-workers sighing tiredly. Lisha even rolled her eyes because Zulu’s version was riddled with holes. Yes, she had seen the spy, but that was after Major Elio had seen her long before she landed in the market.

Zulu had been perched on a stall with Sister Anna, selling rosaries, bibles, candles and other religious trinkets when he noticed a woman with a feather poking out from beneath her cloak passing by. He had flown straight to Father Nicodemus to share the news that there was another one like them.

Now, Zulu was reveling in her lies. "She tried to buy canned tomatoes! Tomatoes! What kind of spy buys canned tomatoes? Ha! A foolish one I say!"

The base erupted in laughter. Children repeated the parrot’s words. Adults wondered why the parrot thought tomatoes were a foolish purchase.

And the spy herself sat in a dim interrogation room, waiting. It was the same room where Carson interrogated Augustus and once again, he was interrogating the new spy personally. He had the kind of look and presence that made an inexperienced person like Joy shrivel her lies before they were even uttered. His jaw was square and set, his eyes sharp and cold enough to slice through silence.

Father Nicodemus had insisted on being present for the interrogation. Odd as that was. He leaned against the wall, wings half-spread, humming hymns under his breath.

Between the two men, Joy could not decide who was more unhinged.

Carson started by sitting down and folding his hands. With a smile, he said, "So. You like tomatoes."

Joy blinked. "What?"

"Tomatoes," Carson repeated. "Zulu says you tried to buy tomatoes. Everyone outside is now debating on how tomatoes and spying are related. The parrot will probably build on that absurd theory and make you memorable. By the time you get to our prison, tomato will be your new name."

Joy blinked.

Father Nicodemus chuckled. "Even the sparrow finds a nest, yet none escapes the eyes of the Shepherd. Daughter of flight, why cast your net in secret waters?"

Joy shifted in her chair. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

Carson leaned forward. "He means that you were watched and followed from the moment you stepped foot in our market. We expected spies of course; you just happened to stand out the most. You made it obvious that you were gathering information. You walked through the market, pretending to be one of the unfortunate survivors. But you are not.

One, your wings gave you away. Two, you are too clean, beneath the cloak. Three, you did not eat any of the free food and you looked at those who were fighting over it with disgust. You are not a beggar. Four, you walked by all the scrap without a second thought, so you are not a scavenger.

Five, you did not buy any grain or anything truly useful and sustaining like ice packs or cheap solar body stockings that cost less than a can of tomatoes."

Joy frowned. "It is a free market, and I am a free person. I can buy whatever I want."

Father Nicodemus sighed loudly. "Child, even the lilies of the field do not toil as hard as you are doing right now."

Joy gritted her jaw. "You think you know everything."

Carson smiled. "I don’t know about the priest, but I don’t need to know everything. Just enough. You can sit here and sulk or hug yourself with your wings, but I promise that I will figure you out. I am very good at reading people. By the time we are done, I will know the names of your parents, the first boy who ever kissed you, where you hid the doll, you stole from your sister or brother, what sins you have committed and who sent you." He snapped his fingers at the camera. "I am very good at digging secrets like this. Better at it than I am at torturing answers out of you by burning your fingertips or in this case wing tips."

In the monitoring room, Sunshine closed her eyes. Phima bloom coffee was truly delightful. A delicacy that Dr. Sing had discovered accidentally. It was like drinking Christmas joy in a cup.

Hades chuckled. The scene was a reminder of Sunshine’s first dinners with his family. Drama everywhere else while she enjoyed her meal, unbothered.

Ariel was in the room as well, feeding her milk flavored biscuits by hand. He was also paying attention to the interrogation for the both of them.

Carson meanwhile began with small questions, seemingly harmless. "What’s your name? What did you eat today? Do you prefer tea or coffee? For dinner, would you like to have chicken or beef?"

A former military cop, Bryan Daigle groaned. "How is this going to get us answers? I say we waterboard her."

Major Elio frowned. "Carson has his ways, give him time. And fetch some coffee because little bird likes coffee."

Most people in the room were puzzled. Little bird, also known as the spy, had not answered. How did Elio know?

"Tea." Joy replied to Carson.