At that very moment, the phone rings. Jago answers it. The instant he speaks G.W.’s name, she snatches the receiver from Jago’s hand.
“Jill’s been kidnapped,” she says, simply. She sounds very small.
“I know,” G.W. says. He tells her where he is and what he knows. Although he’s unable to provide much in the way of hard facts, he has the sound of a man who is in control and is taking decisive action. Desperate for reassurance, she finds comfort in his tone, if not in his words.
“Tell Jago that I’ve sent a chopper after him,” G.W. says. “It should be there in a couple of minutes. It’ll fly him to Home Guard headquarters, they’re like a super police force here, sorta like a cross between the CIA and the FBI. I’ll meet him down there.”
“I’m coming too,” she says.
“No,” he insists, firmly. “You’ve got to stay right where you are. The kidnappers may call the house with ransom demands or something. Some policemen will be there soon with some fancy recording equipment, but you’ve got to be there to take the call.”
“I’m so frightened, G.W.,” she admits, for the first time in the twenty-five years she has known him.
“You’re going to have to be strong,” he says softly. “You’re going to have to be strong for our baby.”
But did she hear just the tiniest break in his voice? she wonders, as she hands the receiver back to Jago.
Could it be that he’s just as scared as I am?
5.2.7: Aqevina
She’s in the hospital. Again. Another operation. What is it this time? Did I hurt my knee again? Why can’t I remember? And what about the Olympics? Am I going to have to miss the race? Did I miss it already? What day is it? I’m so thirsty…
She must have asked for something to drink without even realizing it, because someone is pressing a paper cup into her hand, and a friendly voice is urging her to drink. Without even opening her eyes, she props herself up on her elbows, drains the small cup quickly, and holds it out again.
“Want more?” the pleasant voice asks.
She nods.
And then she remembers. And she opens her eyes. And she sits up.
She’s not in a hospital room at all. She’s in what appears to be a large bedroom, larger even than her room back home. The sole source of illumination is one, dim candle, which does little to reveal the exact dimensions or details of her surroundings. But the candle is making the whole room flicker, and now the room is swaying as well, and turning, slowly, with a sickening, undulating motion that makes her stomach churn.
Closing her eyes, she sinks back down with a low moan.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” the voice says, apologetically. “I should have warned you not to move so quickly. Don’t worry, it’ll pass, just try not to move so fast for a couple of minutes, okay? Here, have some more water.”
“Where am I?” Weakly.
“You’re safe. Drink this, it’ll make you feel better.”
“Who are you?” Suspiciously.
“My name’s Samanchu Galenka, but you can call me Sammy. Everybody does.”
Well, I was kidnapped, Jillian thinks, as her head starts to clear. That wasn’t just a nightmare. So this dude must be one of the kidnappers. But his English is perfect; he sounds more like he’s from California than Qen Phon. Maybe I was rescued. Maybe I’m in someone’s house, or maybe this is just what hospitals look like in Qen Phon.
“Are you one of the guys who kidnapped me?” she asks. As soon as she says it, it sounds so silly. Kidnapped. How could I have been kidnapped? Putting it into words, it sounds so… so unlikely. So unreal. Almost pretentious. He’s going to laugh at me. He’s going to say, kidnapped? Ha, that’s a good one. You really think you were kidnapped? What have you been smoking, lady?
But what he says is: “I don’t like to think of it as kidnapping.” He sounds aggrieved. “The way I look at it is that we just kinda ‘borrowed’ you and your friend here for a couple of days, you know? I mean, we’re not gonna hurt you, or anything like that. Kidnapping sounds so… so criminal, you know? And we’re not criminals. We’re freedom fighters.”
Reluctantly, she opens her eyes again.
Mercifully, the room has stopped spinning. The flickering candle is still creating some bizarre shadow-shapes, but they no longer turn her stomach.
Even in the dim light, she can see enough of Sammy to be surprised at how young he is, He might be sixteen, maybe even younger. He’s chubby and round-faced, smiling, a cheerful cherub, a happy Buddha. He holds out the paper cup to her, and once again beckons her to drink.
She takes the water from him, because it’s easier than trying to make some sense of what’s going on. But when she draws the cup to her lips, she hesitates, and sniffs suspiciously at the clear liquid.
Sammy laughs. “It’s just water,” he says. “What, did you think we were going to try to drug you, or something?” He laughs again. “Gimme a break.”
Too thirsty to care, she gulps down the water and again holds the cup out for more. “Well, you did drug me to get me here, didn’t you?” she points out. “What was that, chloroform?” Cautiously, she sits up. The room stays in place.
Sammy shrugs. “Maybe, I don’t know. Nobody tells me anything,” he says, without annoyance. “We had to do something to get you here,” he explains, eminently reasonable. “I mean, if we had just said, hey, we’re freedom fighters, could we borrow you for a couple of days, I don’t think you would have just jumped into the van, you know? But now, we don’t need to drug you or anything. I mean, there’s no way you can escape, you know? Now that we got you here.”
“Where’s ‘here’?” asks a weak voice from the other side of the bed.
“Sunshine! Jesus, I almost forgot about you. No, don’t try to sit up yet. Lie down. You’ll feel better in a minute. Get her some water,” Jillian commands, and Sammy toddles off obediently.
“Were we kidnapped?” Sunshine asks.
“‘Fraid so.”
“Why?”
Jillian sighs. “Beats the hell out of me, lady.”
They’re lying on a king-sized bed, fully made up. The pillows are tucked neatly into matching shams. Reaching up, Jillian pulls out one of the pillows, tells Sunshine to lift her head up for a second, and slips the pillow under it.
“Where are we?” Sunshine asks, her voice a little steadier. “Or did I ask you that already?”
“I don’t know where the hell we are,” Jillian admits, surprised at how calm she feels. “Somebody’s house, I guess.”
“It’s my house,” Sammy says, as he returns with the water. “I mean, it’s my parents’ house. I mean, it was my parents’ house. They’re dead. Tanami had my dad killed,” he adds, without rancor.
“Why?” Sunshine is waking up.
Sammy shrugs. “I don’t know all the details. It was a long time ago. I was just a kid. And my mom took me to the States after that. We had to leave really quickly, like in the middle of the night. And then she died, so I never heard a whole lot about it. Something to do with politics, I guess.”
“Sammy, can you turn on the lights?” Jillian swings her legs over the side of the bed and sits perched on the edge. “That candle is driving me crazy.”
“I wish I could,” Sammy says, with sincere regret. “But they turned off the electricity years ago.” He grins. “Good thing they left the water on, huh?”
“Sammy…” Jillian touches him lightly on the arm in what she hopes is a friendly gesture. “Sammy, can you help us get out of here?”
His eyes widen, and he takes a step back. “Gosh, no,” he says, surprised. “I couldn’t do that. But listen, you don’t need to be afraid or anything. Nobody’s going to hurt you, or anything like that.”
“Sammy, c’mon,” Jillian pleads. “Think about it. My Daddy’s very rich. He’d pay a lot of money to get me back, I know he would. You could be…”
But Sammy is shaking his head firmly. “You don’t understand,” he says. “It’s not a matter
of money to me, it’s a matter of principle. Tanami killed my dad. This is my way of getting even. Akaso says that Tanami will finally be exposed for the tyrant he is. The whole world will know. I’m striking a blow for freedom,” he says stiffly, as if he were reciting a popular slogan. “Money has nothing to do with it, you know?”
How strange, Jillian thinks. He doesn’t even know much of anything about his father, not even why Tanami had him killed, yet he joins up with a band of terrorists to avenge his death.
“Listen,” Sammy says, “I need to go tell somebody that you guys are awake.”
“Sammy…”
“I’m going to have to lock the door behind me,” he adds, apologetically. “It’s not that I don’t trust you guys, or anything. I mean, I told them it was silly, there’s only two outside doors in the whole house, and Akaso has guards at both of them with these humongous assault rifles, you know? And all the windows are boarded up, so there’s no way you guys can escape, so why not let you walk around? But Akaso says you gotta stay in here, so…”
“Why do you have to do what Akaso says?” Jillian asks, hoping she’s not being too obvious. “This is your house, isn’t it?”
“Well, yeah, I guess so. But this is Akaso’s operation. His father was a great man, you know. Really, if you think about it, it’s an honor to me and to the memory of my father that Akaso wanted to use my house. I mean, there’s lots of places he could have used. Lots of people around here would do most anything for him, I guess, because of his father.”
“Sammy, listen…”
“There’s towels and soap and stuff in the bathroom if you want to clean up,” Sammy continues, pointing to a small door in the far corner of the room. “You can even take a shower if you want to, but there isn’t any hot water, so…” He shrugs. “The house is pretty dusty, but it’s pretty much the way we left it. You need anything, you ask me.”
“I don’t suppose,” Jillian asks, “that you might have any clean clothes we could change into.”
“Oh, Jesus,” Sammy says, slapping himself on the head. “I almost forgot. I can’t believe I’m so stupid.” He walks briskly over to the far wall and opens a door. “This whole closet is full of clothes. All sorts of stuff. Used to be my mom’s. There’s some real nice stuff in here. We used to be pretty rich, I think.”
He walks into the closet; they hear him pull a chain, and then laugh. “God, I’m dumb,” he says. “I think I really expected the light to come on. I guess you’re just kinda gonna hafta feel your way around. But there’s a ton of stuff in here.”
When he emerges from the closet, he licks his lips nervously, and his eyes dart furtively around the room. His cockiness has inexplicably disappeared; suddenly, he seems to be extremely uneasy. “And I’m supposed to tell you something,” he says. He looks up at Jillian and meets her eyes for a moment, then he looks quickly away.
Jillian tenses. Something is wrong. Without being consciously aware of it, she’s been taking comfort in Sammy’s easy banter; it just doesn’t seem possible that any real threat can exist in his presence. But the fragile illusion has been shattered, and Jillian feels the danger return, seeping back into her pores with a sudden chill.
“I’m supposed to tell you,” Sammy continues, subdued, “that Akaso wants you to get all prettied up. He wants you to put on some make-up and some perfume. It’s all in the bathroom, all my mom’s old stuff. And he wants you to get all dressed up. Like you were going out to a debutante’s ball, is what he said.”
Sammy shuffles his feet uncomfortably.
“And when you’re all ready,” he continues, “I’m supposed to come back and get you and take you down to his room. He says that you and him are gonna finally have your first date. He said to tell you that he’s going to show you… How did he put it? Oh, yeah: He’s going to show you the way that the relationship between a man and a woman is supposed to be. That’s what he said.”
Sunshine is confused. “Does Akaso want both of us to get ready for him?”
“No,” Sammy says, shaking his head. “Just Jill.” Finally, he looks up into Jillian’s frightened eyes. “He specifically said that he wants Jill.”
֍ ֍ ֍ ֍ ֍ ֍ ֍ ֍ ֍ ֍
When Sammy leaves, locking the door behind him with a loud click, Jillian and Sunshine sit on the edge of the bed in a stunned silence.
After a few minutes, Sunshine realizes that Jillian is softly crying.
“Oh, Jill,” Sunshine says sympathetically, and slides over next to her. Sobbing louder, Jillian collapses against Sunshine’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Jill,” she says, soothingly, stroking Jillian’s golden locks. “Everything’s going to turn out alright.”
“Yeah, that’s easy for you to say,” Jillian says bitterly, as she fights to regain control. “You’re not the one that that… That animal wants to have his way with me, Sunshine. He wants to… to rape me, don’t you see? That what he wants to do.”
“Try not to think of it that way,” Sunshine advises, as horrible images of rape flood back into her mind. “I mean, ‘rape’ is such a loaded word. And at least you have time to prepare yourself for it. I mean, it’s not like he’s just jumping out of the bushes at you and ripping your clothes off.”
“That doesn’t make it any better. Rape is rape.”
“But you can make it easier on yourself,” Sunshine persists. “Just pretend that he’s some guy you met, and you’re not crazy about him, but he’s taken you back to his apartment, and maybe you had a little too much to drink, and the next thing you know, you’re in bed with him.”
“Maybe you go around falling into bed with every guy who comes on to you,” Jillian sniffs, “but that’s just not the way I operate.”
Sunshine ignores the provocation. “But surely you’ve slept with at least one guy that you weren’t madly in love with, haven’t you?”
Standing up, Jillian walks a few paces away and stands with her arms folded across her chest. “No,” she says softly, shaking her head. “No, I can honestly say that I have never done that.”
Sunshine is incredulous. “Do you mean to tell me that you’ve been passionately, head-over-heels in love with every guy you’ve ever slept with?”
Without turning around, Jillian shakes her head again. “No,” she says softly. Then she does turn and walk back to the bed, sitting down next to Sunshine with a sigh. “No,” she repeats. “That’s not what I meant at all.”
“Then…” Sunshine is confused. “Then what…”
“I’m a virgin,” Jillian says, in a shaky whisper. “That’s what I mean.”
“A virgin?” Sunshine laughs, a rare sound. “You don’t mean…”
“I mean I’m a virgin, Sunshine, okay?” Jillian is angry, defensive. “That’s what I mean. I’ve never slept with anybody I didn’t love because I’ve never slept with anybody at all. Okay?”
“Oh, Jill,” Sunshine says, horrified, “I didn’t mean to laugh. I wasn’t laughing at you. I just thought you were kidding me. I mean, I don’t think I know anybody else who’s still a virgin at your age. You may be the only virgin I know.”
“Well, stick around, kid,” Jillian says, in a voice that’s terrifyingly soft and small. “In a little while, it looks like you won’t know any virgins at all.”
5.2.8: Tanami
The following is a transcript of the first of many television news bulletins that were broadcast in the confusing hours after the incident in Old Sataru.
We interrupt this program with breaking news.
Good evening. This is Sheila Dunne coming to you live from Olympic Central in Tanami, the capital of Qen Phon and, for the last two weeks, the site of the Olympic Games. Our newsroom has just been informed that a terrorist incident has taken place, apparently involving athletes, possibly Americans. At least one death has been reported, although we have not – I repeat, we have not been able to confirm that report. Early indications are…
Is Caryn ready?
I’ve just been informed that
our Caryn Patterson is standing by with more information. Caryn, can you hear me?
Just barely, Sheila. It’s bedlam down here. I hope you can hear me, I can barely hear myself.
Anyway, the building that I hope you can see behind me is the headquarters of the Home Guard, the national police force of Qen Phon. I’m in a crowd of at least a hundred reporters. Rumors of some kind of incident began to circulate over an hour ago, and it’s been…
Caryn? Sorry to interrupt, but I was wondering if you’ve heard any more information about whether any American athletes were involved in the incident. The early reports we heard down here were contradictory on that point, so…
I’m sorry, Sheila, but I couldn’t hear that question at all. Could you…
I said, were any American athletes involved in the incident? Caryn? Can you hear me?
I think I caught the gist of your question, Sheila. I’ve heard contradictory reports and I hesitate to say anything on the air that might prove to be inaccurate. But yes, stories have been circulating that as many as half a dozen athletes were killed by terrorists, and some of the fatalities are reported to have been Americans. I’ve also heard that there were several Israelis involved, which, of course, brings back horrible echoes of the terrorist incident at the Munich Olympics in 1972. I’ve heard reports of scores of injuries. There was some kind of explosion, perhaps a car bomb, I don’t have the details just yet. It’s all very confusing.
The police have promised to send someone out to make a statement, and as soon as… Wait, I think someone may be coming out now. I hope you can hear me, everybody’s shouting questions at him in lots of different languages. This has turned into a real madhouse.
Yes, Sheila, this gentleman must be the spokesman they promised us. He’s holding up his hand for quiet. Can you see him? Are we picking up the video on this? It’s quieting down. I’m going to try to get closer so we can…
Caryn?
Caryn, can you hear me?
I’m sorry, but we seem to have lost our feed from Caryn Patterson, and at a most inopportune time. I hope that we can… Okay, I’m told that we’ve established contact with Rodney Richmond, and that he has some more information for us. Rodney, can you hear me?
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