by H M Sealey
Asim gazed at her in confusion. “I thought you weren’t going to be Abdullah any more.”
“Tariq knows about me.” She said. “Once he comes out of hospital he’ll force me to marry him. I have to go now, while I can.”
“Now?” Asim gazed at his sister with big, unhappy eyes.
“Now.”
“But where are you going?”
“The Border. I have some money saved up. I’m going to find a job there.”
“But you don’t have a border pass.”
Alaia reached into the bag and withdrew a piece of folded cardboard, beautifully printed in Arabic letters.
Asim stepped forward and stared at it. “This is a pass in the name of Abdullah ibn Eshan.” He looked at his sister. “Abdullah ibn Eshan doesn’t exist. How did you get it?”
“I made it.”
He took it from her hands and held it up to the light. “How? It’s perfect.”
“I know it’s perfect. It’s taken me months. I had to get the right paper, the right inks. It’s amazing how few people take notice of a boy poking around. I copied Uncle Baraq’s.”
“But it’s a forgery. They’ll know.”
“I don’t think they will. I had the photograph taken on the way home from school when you were ill. I’m going to try it anyway.”
“Alaia, you can’t.”
“I can. I can’t wait for Tariq to get well. I have to go, now.” She paused. “I want to find Dai.” A flush of colour spread across her cheeks that neither Asim nor Missy missed.
Alaia looked at Missy. “You could come too.”
“Really?”
“I can say you’re my sister. Women don’t have our own Border passes, we don’t need them.” There was an obvious, bitter edge to her voice. “No more than a bag needs its own Border pass. We’re just property you see.”
Asim looked more and more horrified at the idea. “Alaia, please, at least wait for Uncle Baraq, you’d be safer with him.”
She shook her head. “Do you remember those fairy stories we read Asim? The ones about princesses and pirates? The ones we weren’t supposed to read?”
“Yes.”
“I can’t be the princess who waits in a tower to be saved by the prince. I want to save myself. I want to do this Asim. For once I want to do something as a person, not as a thing. I’ve been planning it for a very long time. I love Uncle Baraq, but I don’t want to sit passively by while he does everything for me. I don’t even want to leave like a parcel bundled up and carried away. I want to leave like a human being. So I’m going.”
She leaned forwards and kissed her brother on the cheek. “I’ve left a note for our parents. Tell them I love them, but tell them I can’t live in this world any more.”
“Please Alaia. I….I don’t want us to be apart. We’ve never been apart.”
“I’m sorry Asim. I love you.”
“Let me come with you.”
“You don’t have a Border pass.”
“Couldn’t you make me one?”
Alaia scowled. “Have you any idea how long this took me to make?” She turned to Missy. “Do you want to come?”
Missy nodded.
“Then go and get a niqab and abaya from the wardrobe.”
Missy turned and ran upstairs. Asim stared at his sister with unashamed tears on his face.
“How...how much money do you have.”
“Two hundred Riyal.”
“I’ve got fifty in my money box. Take that too.”
“You don’t need to do that -”
“I do. Alaia, I really do.”
He followed Missy up the stairs and located his money-box, the one shaped like a spaceship, emptied it out on the bed and scooped up the contents. He rubbed his eyes while nobody could see him, fighting the rest of the tears that threatened to escape and tumble down his cheeks. He would miss Alaia so very much.
“Here.” He pushed the crumpled notes and coins into her hand.
Alaia smiled and sniffed back her own tears. “Thank you.”
“How will you get to the Border?”
“Bus. It’s cheap enough.”
“Wait!” Asim darted from the room and returned carrying another note.
Alaia gazed at it, surprised. “This is a five hundred Riyal note?”
Asim nodded. “I was given it last night. I don’t want it.”
Alaia swept her brother into her arms and kissed him again. “Thank you.”
“Just be careful.” He gestured towards Missy who was now robed in black, a living shadow. “It doesn’t sound very nice over in the Border.”
“But it’s free.” Alaia said. “I can walk the streets as a woman.”
Missy’s fingers touched the painful brand on her neck.
“Until they turn you into a slave and brand you.”
“We’ll have to be careful then.” Alaia decided, shrugging just as if she was taking no risk at all.
Asim hugged his sister a dozen times before he finally let her leave, marvelling at how expertly she slipped into her role as Abdullah. She would no longer pretend to be dumb as she had done in Tariq’s classes, fearful that he would recognise her. Now she would relax and feel the sun on her head and pass through the people with her eyes somewhere other than the pavement.
Asim watched the two figures until they disappeared from view, then he threw himself down full length on the sofa and punched the cushion until his arms ached. He couldn’t bear this. He couldn’t bear the idea that his sister was walking off into the unknown and he was the one left behind this time, unable to protect her any more.
He turned the little card over in his hand. Kit Summerday’s number was written in slightly smudged ink. His heart thudding, Asim picked up the phone. He only hesitated for a few seconds before he dialled the number and waited.
“Kit Summerday.” The voice was brisk. Asim took a swift breath.
“It’s Asim Sayyid. I went with you to the auction yesterday.”
“Who? Yes, I remember, What is it?”
“You – you said to call if I ever wanted to….to leave the BSI.”
“I’m busy at the moment. Call back another time.”
Asim couldn’t let him terminate the call. He had to say something, anything that would pique his interest.
“It’s about Family Matters.” Asim blurted out the words. And there was a long, suddenly attentive pause on the other end.
~
Josh
Director Summerday is sitting behind her desk, hands clasped, dark eyes as cruel as I remember. The last time I saw this woman River was threatening her life. It’s a fair estimate to say she probably doesn’t like me.
“Ah ha. Skye. The wanderer returns. Do sit down.”
I sit but I don’t speak. I’m still trying to work out just how awkward I can really be.
“So, Doctor Tarporley doesn’t have very high hopes for you Skye.”
“Doctor Tarporley’s a vicious pervert.”
“Yes, he said you were insulting him earlier. Fortunately he’s a very forgiving man.”
“Where’s River?”
“Quite safe.”
“I want to see her.”
The director leans back in her chair, I hear it squeak with her weight.
“What do I do with you Skye?”
I don’t answer that. What does she expect me to say.
“The question is, are you as zealous as River. Are you as dedicated to tearing down NuTru as she is?”
I stare directly ahead. “I just wanted an ordinary life. That’s all. A normal life.”
“Yes. I rather thought that’s what you’d say.” She frowns as her eyes examine me. “River’s unsure about you.”
That seems like a peculiar thing to say.
“River’s unsure?”
“However, she says you can trusted. I must admit, it seemed like a very convoluted way to prove your suitability.” She stands up. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“Just come this way Skye, and don’t ask questions.”
The door behind her chair is locked with a code, she opens it quickly and waits for me to follow. Outside there are two security officers who immediately fall into step just behind me.
“Do you want to be permanently marked Skye?”
“Of course not.”
We pass along a narrow, windowless corridor in a part of the Rainbow Centre I’ve never seen before, the steady tramp of marching boots reminds me I’m never likely to be followed by nothing but my own shadow again.
The Rainbow Centre is a funny conglomeration of buildings, meshing late twentieth century architecture with a clumsy, boxy design from fifty years later. I think it was a school a long time ago, a school that long fell out of use once the birthrate began to drop.
There’s a room at the end of the passage and she opens the door.
The room is white, like a doctor’s surgery, in the centre is a large chair rather like the sort a dentist would use. There’s a man in the room wearing a white coat holding a long needle, his face masked completely except for a pair of eyes that are fixed on the implement in his gloved hands. Not the sort of needle used to deliver a drug, but the sort that is used for tattoos. It looks like some sort of torture device.
I try to back away but Director Summerday has already locked the door behind me.
“Get in the chair Skye.”
“No.” I say. “No, I won’t.”
“Just get in or I’ll have you strapped down. The world needs to know that you’re unredeemable. Once you leave this room you’ll never be able to hide again.” She laughs to herself. “Not unless you wear a Burka.” I think she finds this funny.
“Go to Hell.” I say.
Summerday nods at the security officers, both of whom pounce in unison. There’s nothing I can do to prevent them dragging me across the room and throwing me down on the chair. I resist as best I can but I can’t stop them tightening the straps around my ankles and wrists.
“That’s better.” Summerday says, satisfied. “That’s how we need to keep you from now on Skye. Restrained.”
She nods to the man in the white coat who comes close to me, he smells of disinfectant and begins to swab my face with alcohol.
“We don’t want any infections do we Skye? Not given how little there is we can do to fight them these days. I should hate you to die before you’ve tasted what life here is going to be like for you.”
She leans over the chair, her sour breath hot in my face, I can see every wrinkle, every lump of unsightly fat and sagging skin around her jowls. I hate this woman with a real passion.
There’s a light in my face and I screw up my eyes. I hear Summerday dismiss the two security men and I hear the door click shut. There are only three of us in the room now.
Could I fake an illness? Dare I?
I can hear the humming sound of the needle and so I violently stiffen my body, as if I’m having a fit. A lot of us used to fit after vaccinations, it was considered normal. I remember being terrified as arms flayed, stiff as trees and eyes rolled back in heads.
I start to make a choking sound and throw my head back as far as I’m able, stiffening wildly against the straps. I’m close to panic anyway.
Then I hold my breath and remain perfectly still, every muscle tense. Please God, let me hold it long enough.
“Damn!” Summerday grabs my head and pulls back an eyelid, I roll my eyes right back so all she can see is the white. Let her worry I died on her watch. I just hope it’s enough.
“Call a doctor!” She commands, releasing the straps on my wrists. “He can’t die yet!”
I only have one opportunity so I seize it. Director Summerday is much older than I am, and demonstrably unfit, I’m stronger, even half restrained. I grab her throat in my hand and I squeeze. I squeeze out all my fears and frustrations.
“If you try and mark me, I’ll kill you.” I warn her, meaning it. “I’ve spent years trying to earn my freedom from this place and now it all means nothing, so I’m not going to behave any more. I’m going to fight!”
The man with the needle doesn’t move, Summerday gasps as I tighten my grip, her soft flesh spilling out around my fist. But I have her windpipe and that’s what I need. Will I really kill her? I don’t know. I don’t know who I am any more.
“What are you…..willing to fight for Skye?” Summerday squeezes the words out.
“Me!” I tell her. “I’m willing to fight for me. River’s braver than I am, she wanted to fight for other people, for justice. If I ever see her again I’ll tell her that. I’ll tell her I’m sorry I was so selfish. All the time she wanted to save more than her own skin, she wanted to save this whole country and now you’re going to torture or medicate her. You’re monsters, all of you, and River is worth a thousand of you.”
I increase the pressure on her throat, preparing to feel the woman die, the angry flush on her skin is fading, taking on a tinge of blue. Good. She deserves nothing less.
“Josh.” A soft voice is suddenly close to my ear. “Let her go Josh.”
The sound of my real name throws me and I turn to look at the man with the needle. But he’s pulled his mask down to reveal his face and I realise it isn’t a he at all.
It’s River.
~
Missy
Dai was sitting in the Golden Condor, nursing his third drink when he saw her. He stood up with such eagerness that his glass almost overbalanced.
“Missy!”
“Dai!”
They flew into each-others arms and stayed there, savouring the touch that they had both missed and both feared they would never know again.
“I can’t believe you’re here!”
“Or you. What were you thinking, trying to come after me? You could have been shot.”
“I was shot.” Dai responded with a grin Missy knew well. “I’ll have a scar. But when Elsie said the Wolves had you, I couldn’t think about anything except getting you out.”
“I’m sorry we argued.” Missy had wanted to say that for a long time. She brushed her brother’s face with her fingers, she had convinced herself she would never see him again. She had never been more grateful to be wrong.
“It was my fault. I shouldn’t have said you were wasting your life.”
“Find me a job where I didn’t have to take bloody diversity classes and I might have done more. I’m not like you Dai, I could never happily smile as I watch NuTru brainwash children.”
Dai groaned. “Not this again Missy, please.”
Missy laughed and hugged him so hard she left bruises. “I promise. No arguing. I’m just so, so happy to see you.”
Then Dai noticed Alaia. Alaia dressed like a boy and yet whose face would never be anything other than beautiful to him. Feeling slightly awkward, he faced her with a smile.
“Alaia. It’s….it’s really good to see you.”
She returned the smile. “And you. I….I missed you.”
“I missed you.”
Missy sat down and picked up a menu. “For goodness sake, kiss if you’re going to kiss and then sit down.”
Dai leaned forwards and let his lips brush hers. He took her hand and squeezed it. It was more physical intimacy that Alaia had ever known other than Tariq’s attempt to assault her. It made her feel slightly wicked.
“Where’s Baraq?”
“Preoccupied.” Missy said. “Alaia and I came instead. She forged a brilliant Border Pass. The Border Guard didn’t bat an eyelid. She’s amazing.”
Dai grinned. “You don’t need to tell me that.”
“I have absolutely no idea why she likes you.” Missy added, deadpan.
All three laughed and relaxed a little, settling into the comfortable seats and enjoying the anticipation of freedom that was now so close it was almost within reach. But they were not free yet; freedom teased them from the bright lights, offering so much but promising nothing.
“I don’t like the Border mu
ch Missy.” Dai admitted. “I’ve only been here a little while but it seems ….hard. Cold. Like everyone’s obsessed with money.”
Alaia nodded as she scanned the menu. “That’s what they tell us. That in the Border the prostitutes are many and expensive, and in Old Britain there are many and free.”
Dai considered this. “Well, I suppose there’s some truth to that.”
Alaia rested her face on her hand and gazed around the quiet restaurant. No Mutaween would lash her and drag her back home for sitting near a man who was not her relative. This was freedom and it tasted wonderful.
The waiter took their order, clearly used to odd, emotional reunions in his establishment, and then Dai gazed at both women.
“So the question is, what do we do now?”
“I’m going home.” Missy said without hesitation. “I have work to do.”
Dai didn’t like that answer. “Missy, you know I can’t come with you. That policeman, Summerday, he thinks I’m part of Family Matters. Plus I’m a thief.”
Alaia let her eyes settle on her own hands. “Stay here with me then.” She suggested. “I intend to find a job.”
Dai looked doubtful. “We’d have to completely fend for ourselves. It’s like the Wild West here, might-makes-right.”
Alaia shrugged. “But it’s free.”
Dai’s uncertainty became a grin. “You think we could make a go of it?”
“I want to try. I’m clever, I’ll work hard. I can do more than marry someone and make babies.” Then she glanced away, blushing. “Not that I wouldn’t mind babies, you know, at some point.”
Dai looked back at his sister, also slightly embarrassed but grinning and unable to stop.
“Summerday may arrest you too, in order to find me.”
“Let him. He’s not my problem. Old Sylvester Jourdete is my problem.”
“Who?”
“There was an old man the night of the auction.”
“I remember. He was suspicious of me. I think he was the trader’s father.”
Missy nodded. “That’s him. I…..gave him some information. Sensitive information. He said he was a friend, but I’m not sure I can trust his word. I need to find him and make sure he doesn’t use that to…….well, he could destroy everything I’ve helped build with Family Matters. He’s my next port of call.”