Margins and Murmurations

by Otter Lieffe

  “Okay, hon. The best thing right now is to take care of ourselves and keep our eyes open.”

  “Let's escape this meeting?”

  “Let's go.”

  * * *

  It all happened so fast, Nathalie didn't even have time to react.

  She had finished most of her paperwork from the morning and was getting up to go to the bathroom when five heavily armed troopers—all massive, uniformed men—burst into the office.

  “Miss N?” one of them demanded, coming towards her. He was a massive guy, his face completely emotionless.

  “Err…yes, yes, that's me.” She looked around at her colleagues who stared carefully at their desks and coffee cups, one fiddling hopelessly with a stapler.

  What the hell is happening here?

  “Come with us please. Leave your things behind.”

  Before she knew it, Nathalie was outside and standing in the street in front of the building. She could see her colleagues watching her from the window of the office. The troopers surrounded her menacingly and the one in charge stepped towards her, he was nearly two metres tall.

  “So you're a dyke are you?” He spat the words out loud enough to get the attention of some passers-by who stopped to watch. “A fucking lesbo.”

  “I…excuse me? I don't…”

  “Don't even try, girl. Your friends at the office reported you. We know you've been fraternising with some foreign whore from downtown—”

  “My colleagues…God…” It suddenly all fit into place.

  I knew there was something wrong from the moment I arrived. Of course! That's why no-one would look at me. I'm already dead to them.

  “They earned themselves a nice little bonus there, I dare say.” He stepped forward and poked the butt of his rifle into her chest. “Now this can go two ways. You give us this whore's name and the bar she works at or we show all the good people in the street what a dirty slut you really are.”

  Nathalie was frozen.

  I have to think fast.

  “There is a girl, okay. I admit it. But she's…protected. You can't get her.”

  “Protected, eh?” The trooper looked thoughtful. “So she's probably resistance too, no doubt.”

  There wasn't really a connection between being protected and being resistance, but he was fishing for information. Nathalie waited just a second too long to answer.

  “I see,” he gloated. “And if she is, then you are too.”

  Nathalie couldn't keep eye contact. She'd always been horrible at lying. She looked at the ground.

  She felt a searing pain as the butt of the trooper's rifle cracked against her skull. She was flat out on the ground before she could even scream. The troopers stood over her. The leader lifted his foot and looked like he would kick her in the face.

  “Stop! Wait! Please!” She shielded her bleeding face with both arms.

  It came to her then. A way out of this. There'll be a big sacrifice to be made, but it'll be worth it. As long as me and Kit can be together.

  “I have an idea,” she said desperately. “Another option…please…wait.”

  The trooper put his boot back down on the ground.

  “The dyke has an idea!” He laughed, looking at his subordinates who laughed along obediently. “Well, go on then, girl. We're all ears…”

  Chapter sixty-five

  Ash and Pinar were sleeping soundly, curled up together in their little tent. The camp was quiet except for a pair of owls calling to each other and the quiet murmur of waves.

  Suddenly Ash was woken up by loud voices on all sides of the tent. Her vision of the future still vivid in her memory, she sat upright and strained to hear what the unfamiliar voices were saying. It was completely dark, and her heart was pounding in her chest.

  “Thank God, we made it. I forgot how far the tunnels are from here,” said one of the voices.

  “Look,” said another, “the fire's still burning. There's probably some food left over as well.”

  “I can't walk on this bloody ankle anymore. Sue, find me a log to sit on will you?”

  Ash relaxed a little.

  It's just another shoal arriving from the forest. They must have come through the tunnels and walked the few blocks from the nearest exit. They sound exhausted.

  Pinar was still snoring lightly. She had to get up in a few hours, so Ash left her to sleep and, still wearing her nightdress, she unzipped the tent and climbed out. The night was warm and almost completely dark except for a small fire about a hundred metres away where the new arrivals were standing around and talking. Ash slipped on her boots and walked over to them.

  “Welcome,” she said formally as she arrived. Switching to USL she said: “Sign please, it's late and people are sleeping.”

  Several of the group smiled at her politely and looked like they were about to start a round of formal introductions. Ash was feeling exposed in her nightdress and wanted to avoid all the kisses so she distracted them as elegantly as she could—

  “—There's some food left in the pot,” she signed, pointing over to the little kitchen space. “I'm a physical therapist—did I hear something about a sprained ankle?”

  “That was Gus here,” signed an older woman with long, silver hair. “He hurt himself on one of the escalators.”

  Gus hobbled out from the darkness. As she usually did, Ash assessed him quickly.

  He looks to be in his mid-fifties. White. Tall. Face is a little gaunt but his body looks well built, which these days also means well fed. His hair is messy and short—maybe an outgrown crew cut of some kind. His clothes are filthy.

  Without a word, the older woman helped him sit down on a log and rested his injured foot on a crate.

  “Relax here and I'll bring you something to eat,” she whispered, and bustled off towards the kitchen space.

  Ash could sense that the others liked this Gus person. She could see from their expressions that they were worried about him and looked at him with genuine affection.

  But her intuition was prickling. She had always been good at reading people. It was the plus side to being so sensitive to everything around her. She knew there was something wrong with this person, that he didn’t belong there. She could feel it in her very bones.

  As she got closer to him to look at his twisted ankle, her knowing grew even stronger.

  He even smells wrong, she realised. He smells like danger.

  Ash tried to keep calm as she worked on Gus' ankle.

  “My name's Ash,” she signed.

  “Gus.”

  Even that sounds like a lie. Who is this guy?

  “I'm just going to take a look at your ankle.”

  She mobilised it a little, palpitated around the swelling, checked for any kind of break. She tried to focus on his injury, but she caught him giving her nightdress a strange look, a look that bordered on disgust. Subconsciously, she pulled away from him.

  She knew his ankle would be fine. It was nothing too serious. She guessed just a stretched ligament or two.

  It probably isn't even very painful, although you'd never know from all the fuss he's making.

  “Akh, it hurts. Can't you do that a little softer?” he said angrily as Ash carefully pushed and held a pressure point.

  She took a deep breath and reminded herself to stay calm. He was her patient. She had work to do. And she could get away from him soon enough.

  “Just a little while longer,” she whispered as much to herself as to him. She took a handful of chopped comfrey from her handbag. Dipping the leaves in a little hot water from the kettle, she wrapped the resulting green mass in a small cloth.

  “You'll need to keep this tied against your ankle for a couple of days.” she said, softly, fixing the poultice into position with another strip of cloth she produced from her bag. “Rest it for a week or so and you'll be fine.”

  She felt herself becoming anxious to get away from him and started packing up her
things.

  “A week?” her patient complained loudly.

  Ash, with all the dignity she could muster, turned her back on him and walked away.

  The older woman came over to her as she was walking back to her tent.

  “I'm Sue by the way.”

  Ash looked at her tent longingly, she wanted to be back in bed.

  “Ash, nice to meet you.”

  They exchanged kisses.

  “Will he be okay?” Sue asked.

  “He'll be fine. Where did you pick him up from anyway?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He's clearly not resistance.”

  “Oh, Gus is an exiliado,” Sue explained. “We found him on his way back to the City. He's trying to find his boyfriend here. He was in a bad way when we found him.”

  “I see,” said Ash. “Let's speak more tomorrow, okay?”

  “Sure. Good night.”

  Ash stood for a while and wandered off into her thoughts.

  There's something wrong with this story. Just because someone is an exiliado—or queer for that matter—doesn't make them a good person.

  She stared out into the dark night and listened to the waves far below them.

  Somehow in the west there's still this idea of gay guys being feminine or wearing skirts or something. But those people just haven't been paying attention. If this Gus is gay, then I know his type. Hyper-masculine, hyper-femmephobic, hyper-misogynist. The kind who, back in the day of internet cruising, used 'masculine' as a compliment when chatting to hook ups and probably had 'no fats, no femmes' or something equally hideous written all over his online profiles.

  There was nothing more to do tonight. Pinar would be getting up for her action soon so there was no point going back to bed. Ash was overwhelmed. She went to the kitchen tent and, as she always did when she felt like this, she ate.

  * * *

  An hour before sunrise, Pinar woke up and came over to the fire. The group she'd be doing the action with were already gathered there, eating a massive breakfast prepared for them with the best things Ash could find in the kitchen. But Ash herself was nowhere to be seen.

  Listening to her shoal chat around her, Pinar ate quietly. She was worried about her friend. She looked around the park, but away from the fire it was still too dark to see.

  Ten minutes later, as the rest of the camp was just beginning to wake up, the shoal prepared to leave Dignity. The closest tunnel entrance was a few blocks away and the sky would soon be getting light.

  Pinar walked with the shoal to the edge of the park as they chatted amongst themselves and discussed the plans. She looked around again for her friend.

  It was time to go.

  Then suddenly she heard her name being called. She saw Ash running over to her through the thick grass and in the faint light, Pinar could see she had been crying.

  “You're not going,” Ash declared breathlessly as she arrived.

  “What?” said Pinar, confused. “Of course I'm going.”

  “I forbid it. I won't let you go.” Ash's voice was angry and loud. “It's too dangerous, you're too damn old.”

  “Ash, what are you talki—”

  “You can't leave me here.” Ash crossed her arms and looked around at the shoal. “This weird Gus guy arrived tonight and it made me realise, Pin, we barely know these people. The plan's too dangerous, there's no way that you can pull it off. You're not going.”

  “Honey, I need to do this. We all do, it's important. I'm sorry, bu—”

  “Fine then!” Ash raised her hands in the air and Pinar flinched. “Go, do whatever the hell you want to!” She turned and stormed away back into the park.

  “Ash—come back!” Pinar shouted after her.

  But Ash kept walking.

  One of the shoal came over to Pinar.

  “Sorry,” she said, “But if we're doing this, we need to go now. The sky's getting lighter already.”

  Pinar nodded and took one final look over the park. Damn it all Ash. Don't leave it like this.

  “Let's go,” she said finally, and they walked out into the street.

  Swallowing her angry tears, Ash stormed back into the park where the rest of the camp were already awake and bustling around. Why did I shout at her? Why have I still not learned to control my anger after all this time?

  Ash tried to push the argument out of her mind.

  All these people need feeding in the next hour. Their tents need packing and they need to be ready to fight. I have work to do.

  Gritting her teeth, she walked over to the kitchen and began to cook. Slowly, the sad realisation came to her that this was the first time in weeks that she was truly alone.

  * * *

  In the first light of the morning, accompanied by a loud techno track, Danny was so hot he thought he might actually pass out on the stage.

  It was his last dance of the night and he was having trouble concentrating. As soon as he finished, he was going to rush down to the tunnels and join the main shoal for the action at the prison complex. He was excited and apprehensive in equal parts and couldn’t tell if he was sweating so much from the heat, nerves, or both.

  Dancing's good for me on days like this.

  When he was on the pole he had to focus, to stay in the moment. If he lost himself in a daydream, he invariably slipped and sometimes hurt himself. It wasn’t always easy to concentrate though. There was so much to think about, so much to plan. The prison break was the biggest thing he'd been involved with in his many years with the resistance. And because of the careful way that they kept information segmented, he didn't even know what else was planned, just that they'd have to wait for some kind of signal—apparently Kit would know what it was—before they came above ground.

  He slipped again.

  I'm going to ruin this dance completely if I don't stay focused. He redoubled his efforts. Not that anyone really cares.

  He looked over to the handful of officers still at the bar since last night, smoking and drinking.

  They're too drunk to even stand up, much less much pay attention to my art. It’s fine, whatever. On a day like this, work is just a distraction anyway.

  * * *

  Ash managed to distract herself from her anxiety by preparing flat breads in the kitchen. The rhythm was familiar as she flipped them from hand to hand, flattening them out and tossing them in the pan. She thought about the last time she had done the same thing in her boat house.

  Just before Pin came for dinner.

  Ash missed her already and despite her best attempts not to think about it, she knew she was worried. If only I could have stopped her somehow. If only I could have found a way.

  Angry again, she threw another flat bread on the pan.

  It was then that Ash heard the screaming.

  Chapter sixty-six

  With her heart pounding in her chest, Ash ran out of the kitchen tent. She saw someone lying on the grass, her face, beaten and bruised, her hair covered in blood. Others from the park were running over.

  Shit. Is this how it begins?

  As Ash came closer, she realised that she recognised the person. Kit's friend—or girlfriend or something—Nathalie was it? God, she's covered in blood. I wish Pin was here.

  Switching into emergency mode, Ash barked orders at the nearest person as she knelt down by Nathalie's side.

  “Bring me water, towels, the first aid kit from the kitchen!”

  “OK, you're going to be OK,” she said softly to Nathalie. “Please try to stop screaming, tell me where you're injured.”

  “My head…They hit me with a gun. And they pulled my hair so hard…I can't see out of my left eye. It hurts!”

  The first aid kit arrived, and Ash pulled on a pair of latex gloves and began to inspect Nathalie's wounds. There's a lot of blood but the cuts don't look too deep.

  She began cleaning the wounds with alcohol from the kit.

  “How did
this happen?” she asked.

  “At work. My colleagues reported me. They saw me with Kit and… when I got to work, troopers came and dragged me out of the office and…and…”

  “It's OK, you're safe now.”

  “No! You don't understand!” Nathalie grabbed Ash's wrist; her eyes wide with fear. “They told me that the sex work protection has been withdrawn. None of us are safe anymore…I have to tell Kit! She has to get out of work, out of the City…We all do! There's no time!”

  “OK, just sit back, let me look at your eye.” Ash turned to the small group standing near them. “I need more water please.”

  “There's no time!” screamed Nathalie again. “We have to send a runner through the tunnels and bring Kit here. We have to bring them all here!”

  “I'll go!” said a young woman. “I'll take two of the other runners. Almost all the protected workers work at the same four bars. We can have everyone here within an hour. We'll bring the rest of the sex work collective too. This affects all of us.”

  Ash tried to stay focused on her work, but she didn't like the idea of having even more people gathered here.

  We're supposed to be leaving Dignity Park, not bringing more people. This is all happening way too fast. She continued cleaning the cut on Nathalie’s scalp. The prison groups are leaving the park soon for probably the most ambitious action the resistance has ever attempted. My best friend in the world is already out there somewhere committing sabotage and putting herself in great danger and here's this girl lying in my arms bleeding and babbling about the protection.

  Down in her gut, Ash knew something was very wrong here.

  This is all happening too fast.

  Chapter sixty-seven

  With a loud slam of the door, Kit came running into the bar. She wore very, very high heels but looked like she'd been running for a while. The five drunk officers turned to stare at her. Women never came into this bar and they looked at her like she'd just arrived from another planet. She ignored them and marched up to the stage where Danny was in the middle of a complicated upside-down manoeuvre on the pole, his sneakers squeaking against the polished metal.