“Malila, Malila, honey, come back, come on now …”
Malila felt patting strokes on her hands as she resurfaced to the worried face of Sally hovering over her.
“I’m so sorry, girl! I didn’t mean to snap at you. It doesn’t matter. You can’t help how you’re raised. It will be okay …” Sally cycled through her platitudes. Groaning, Malila sat up and saw Sally for the first time: only a few years older than herself, and drawn with the concern for her baby, her husband, and, now, a sharp anxiety for Malila herself.
Malila, to her own surprise, sat up, embraced Sally, and started to sob. Malila had learned not to cry in the crèche; it had drawn the unwanted and cruel attention of the older children. It had offered no remedy. Malila sobbed now, clutching Sally’s warm form. She sobbed for the cold, for her ignorance, for not knowing what a wife meant, for the pain of her split lip, for the horror of the fight with Bear, for the despair of her near suicide, for Jesse’s abandonment. She sobbed for all the sobbing she had not done as a child. She sobbed for her lost homeland and the kindness of this stranger. She sobbed.
Sally, after a moment’s hesitation, hugged her in return. The two women embraced on the floor of a primative homestead in the outlands of the Unity and the Stewert farm of the New Carrolton Colony of the Reorganized States of America until both women were crying and laughing in turn. Minutes later, a shrill declaration of neglect by Ethan made both women rise to his summons.
CHAPTER 38
CAPTIVITY
Over the next two weeks, Sally listened to most of the girl’s tales. Malila needed the chance to say all the words left unsaid from her trip, her capture, and, maybe, her entire life, Sally thought. Malila retold her solitary memories of early childhood: a soft-bodied woman; a tall, thin man with spectacles; and the windblown clapboard house on a hill against an empty gray sky as it disappeared in the rear window of a government skimmer. She talked about her hopes, her patrons, and her return to the Unity.
Sally asked questions about the things she could not know and kept from her face the reaction to what the answers revealed. Some things she would never fathom. The patrons, whom Malila discussed so openly, filled her with outrage, showing her Malila as a naive victim of a repellant system.
But that first day, Sally interrupted her as Malila’s clothes, warmed by the bright fire, began to liberate the odors they had captured over the weeks of hard use.
“Let’s see if I can find anything of mine I can alter for you, honey. We can’t have you walking around in that old man’s cast-offs, can we, now? Looks like the only thing worth keeping are those boots.”
“Yes, Missus Sally.”
“Call me Sally, honey. Let’s get you out of those things before they crawl away on their own. We’ll need to get you some undies too, I see.”
Sally had seen violence visited upon flesh before. However, she was not prepared for the bruises and healing wounds she found on the slim body of the girl. Malila had a black eye just fading from green, bruises from leg to shoulder, and abrasions on her face and hands. The girl was muscular, but she was painfully thin, her ribs and hip bones protruding. Besides the small healing wounds that went along with life on the trail, the girl had deeper scars under a breast and above her privates. Her eyes spoke of long days and insufficient rest.
“You’ve had a hard trip, honey. How long did it take you to get here? Just put your arms up, and I’ll drop this old gown over you.” A swoosh of gingham interrupted Malila’s reply.
She repeated it as her face cleared the neckline. “About six weeks until we crossed this last big river; then we met Moses and rode here.”
“You mean the Ohio? Big, I suppose, but you should see it in springtime! Those scars look new. What did you get caught in, leaving you so marked?”
“Jesse did the one under my right breast, and the other one was when he abandoned me for another man to take. That was Bear. I don’t know what the mark was really supposed to look like. He said cutting me was to show people what I was and who I belonged to. You know what a brothel is, Sally?”
“Yes, I do, but we don’t generally talk about it among civilized folk, honey.”
“Oh, really? We don’t have brothels in the Unity.”
“No, I see where you might not. Hmm … looks like I’ll have to take it in a bit up top and round the hips. I’m not going to make it fit too tight. I’m thinking you might gain a little back now that you are off the trail.”
“Jesse said my boobs were too small too.”
“That old goat, he said that? They look just fine, honey. You have a sweet shape. Men always think they want more than they can get their hands on.”
“He didn’t seem to want them when he had them, missus.” Malila sighed.
“It’s Sally, honey. Did he? I mean did Jesse touch you?”
“Of course he did. We were sleeping together … oh, not for pleasure-sex! Father me, no! He watched me, especially when I had to wash. He got, you know, interested. Did I tell you he made me wash before bed every night, even as cold as it was? And he watched me. But I guess he didn’t like what he saw.”
“Must be tough to fight off a big man like Jesse. Brutish is all I have to say.”
“I guess he doesn’t have much interest anymore. I’m told Sisis, old people, are like that,” said Malila with a smirk.
“Jesse? I wouldn’t take that bet, honey,” Sally chuckled. “That old man … I’d not trust with the virtue of a spinster. He’s already run through three wives that he admits to.”
“I guess it is just me he doesn’t like, then. That must be why he abandoned me, again,” said Malila. This time her smile was wan. She looked away.
Sally looked at her without answering, and Malila, turning back, explained. “Jesse abandoned me over and over as we were walking. First, a Death Walker nearly got me. Next, he took off during a snowstorm. A band of bandits saw my fire. Before they could rape me, I ran off into the snow. Jesse found me, but then he just stuffed me into a snowdrift. He left me there and didn’t come back until after dark the next day. Even when he was there, he wasn’t there. Do you know what I mean?”
“I know something of that. Moses went off with Jesse at the beginning of summer this year. I was just beginning to figure I was expecting Ethan. Jesse said it’d be a few weeks, and it turned into months. The Sentinels kept me up to date, so’s I didn’t worry, but I couldn’t get a message to Moses. We, Mose and me, need to talk about that. I’m not happy about how he abandoned me to go keep house at Morganfield.”
“What was Moses supposed to be doing during the birth?”
Sally laughed. “Far as I know, he’s supposed to look worried and keep out of the way. Men are pretty useless when it comes to birthing their own babies. They need to be there so’s they don’t get the idea this is just a woman thing and to know what women go through so that they, the men, can have a child.”
Malila looked confused, and Sally waved a hand at her before continuing. “Men want children as much as women do, whether it shows or not. It’s a whole lot more complicated for a man to get a baby than for a woman. Boys don’t understand that, of course. They’re just rutting. It’s only when they grow up that men realize they want to bring up a child in this world of sorrows—see they turn out to be good people. The gladdest people I know are the men who are proud how their kids turned out. The most sorrowful ones are the ones who failed for not trying.”
“But Moses abandoned you when you needed him.”
“I can thank your friend Jesse for that. They were supposed to be back by middle August.”
“He’s not my friend. He abandoned me too. He abandoned me in a lot of ways.”
“Well, if it hadn’t been for Jesse, Moses would’ve been here. I expected Mrs. Parker to help with the birthing, and she brought along her girl, Simone. What an annoying child. Moses could’ve saved me from her, if he’d h
ave been here.”
The conversation subsided as Sally, with a mouthful of pins, concentrated on the alterations.
How much to believe of the girl’s wild stories was anyone’s guess. Jesse was not above a little fabrication at the expense of the gullible. What was certain was that the old man had been too rough with a young, weak, and vulnerable girl. Considering how casual she was with sex, it would not surprise her if Jesse had taken advantage of her on the long trip south, whatever Malila said. Sex was an issue between them; that much was obvious. Sally was not so naive as to think rape was rare in a wild and lawless country, but she would be damned if she allowed the vile man into her house again.
Sally saw how much good it did the girl to talk, wrenching as it was to hear how the old man had treated her. No matter that Jesse Johnstone was a legend of the frontier and the first of the “old ones.” Since his childhood, he was supposed to have aged slower than anyone in recorded history. It was all part of some science experiment9 around the time of the Meltdown. The good news, at least for Sally and those she cared about, was that aging was now a disease like the red measles or lockjaw. You got a few shots, and it did not happen. The old man had helped make it possible. It did not mean she had to like him.
Malila’s evident pride in her country and its institutions were even harder for Sally to understand. Sally knew herself to be uneducated. Schooling for her had ceased with the murder of her father when she was thirteen. She could read and cipher. She could run the agro-support differential equations, run the diagnostics for the power panels, manage her household programs, and program the farm machines. She knew enough machine language to create her own market-prediction programs. Beyond that, she read for her own pleasure and that, for the most part, in English. There had been little room in her life for earning “merit” or admiring “the rule of the people” either.
She worked for possessions, things to ensure the safety and welfare of herself and those she loved. She would much rather have money than “merit.” As for other folks messing with her business, she was quite willing to tell them what she thought about such busybodies if they tried.
The most mystifying aspect of the girl was her baffling fascination with Ethan. The strange, alien girl, if left unsupervised, stood and watched him for hours. Malila scrutinized each of Ethan’s fleeting grimaces as they cycled across his face, watched the slow dance of the small hands as they writhed even in sleep. She talked incessantly about how sweet he smelled, newly laundered and freshly attired. Sally had quickly instructed her about replacing his diaper when he was not so sweet-smelling. She seemed to enjoy the privilege. Strange girl.
CHAPTER 39
INTERROGATION
The day after she arrived at the Stewert farm, Malila’s interrogation began. Her inquisitor was the man she had seen with Jesse in the village square. He was sparse with intense dark eyes behind rimless spectacles perched on a hawk-like nose, generous lips rescuing his face from severity. Instead of a close-fitting suit of black Produra, as she expected of a soldier, he wore a drab forest-green camouflage pattern with shoulder patches and “Captain Delarosa, Xavier C.” over the right breast pocket. He seemed harmless enough as he accepted a cup of Sally’s coffee and a fresh-baked biscuit. After a short while, Sally made some excuse to busy herself and left the front room to them. She made it clear to the officer that she was never farther away than a loud voice might summon.
Delarosa looked down at his coffee cup and rotated the handle clockwise by a few degrees, picked up a morsel of biscuit with a remaining smear of blackberry jam on it, and popped it into his mouth.
“Sally makes the best biscuits I know … Has she shown you her secret recipe?”
“Chiu, Malila Evanova, acting second lieutenant, serial number 59026169.”
Delarosa smiled.
“I see that Sally’s secrets are safe. A shame. The world would be a better place if we ate more biscuits together, don’t you think?”
“You are speaking nonsense. It is absurd talking about biscuits; you waste my time trying to make me betray the Unity.”
“That is saying a good deal, you know, wasting the time of a failed junior officer sent to the middle of nowhere. Sent because you were more expendable than a machine?”
“I am a loyal member of the Democratic Unity Forces for Security.”
“You are the first prisoner of war I have interviewed. And that explains nothing. But I must say you have made quite an impression on Captain Johnstone. It is not very frequent that Jesse voices such strong opinions.”
“And where is Captain Johnstone now?”
“Captain Johnstone asked … well, was given … a detached assignment in Lexington. I don’t know when he will be back. It is me you have to deal with, Lieutenant Chiu.” He did not smile.
After talking with Sally, Malila had recognized just how worthless the old man’s assurances would be. He had promised to look after her when they arrived, but instead he had managed to get assigned somewhere else. She should have known. Sally had said as much.
“If I’m such an incompetent, why don’t you just send me back to the Unity?”
“I would if I could, Lieutenant. We have not had any contact with the … Unity in generations. If we get close to your wall, they send hunter-killer teams after us. It is not the best way to negotiate.”
“Then let me go near the gate, and I will find my way.”
“We have tried that in the past. Those not shot out of hand were captured, restrained, and injected with something that gave them seizures. What might that be, do you think, Lieutenant?”
“That is just an outlander lie! Sapp hasn’t produced seizures in years.”
“Sapp? That’s the agent that you give your foot soldiers, isn’t it? Makes them zombies. It still doesn’t sound very good, does it?”
“I don’t know what you mean. CRNAs are loyal troops. They no longer have the cognitive abilities that got them into trouble in the first place.”
“I see. Very poetic. I didn’t think you Union types had a sense of humor. I was wrong.”
“Do you have anything to ask me, Captain Delarosa?”
“That’s more like it! Brittle, formal, and hostile to lower life-forms. Maybe I can answer a question of yours, instead?”
“What was in the buckskin roll that Captain Johnstone gave to you when we arrived?”
Delarosa’s eyes shot open. “Right to the point! You really don’t know? Okay, Acting Lieutenant Chiu, since you asked so nice. How do you think Jesse used the pulse-rifle without a registered fingerprint and ID chip?”
“I don’t know … He never said.”
“He harvested the ID chips and the fingertips of all your troopers after he captured you. That should be obvious. He tanned them in some awful stuff he carries, like salt, acid, and oil. The ID inserts have to be shared among your troopers, right? Anyway, he made a glove to use with the rifle. Man’s clever; you gotta hand it to him.”
Malila heart sank. Jesse had been carrying the key to the signature locks under her eyes … and nose … since she’d first awoken in the lean-to, bound and naked. The old man was no doubt telling all who would listen about the gullible Uni he had captured. Malila swallowed her shame.
“Thank you for pointing out my failures, Captain. I had not noticed,” she said as icily as possible. Delarosa’s candor struck her as ominous.
“Are the outlands so chaotic that they don’t try to hide their defenses?” she asked.
“Is the Unity so blind as to what constitutes a defense?” Delarosa replied, smiling.
“You talk in riddles. I am done for today. You may starve me or beat me. I will not say anything more.”
“Admirable, Acting Second Lieutenant Chiu, admirable! Let’s get another cup of coffee while I schedule you for flogging. If we are lucky, we might find cookies.”
To Malila’s surprise
, Delarosa neither coerced nor threatened. He asked direct as well as subtle questions about her, her unit, and the Unity. He shared far more information than she did: he was a city kid from Saint Louis, a town situated on the same Mississippi River Jesse had mentioned, as absurd as that seemed. He had grown up in a place called the Hill with his breeder-mother, donor-father, and siblings of the same parentage. The arrangement made Malila queasy.
“What are you doing in the outlands, Captain?” Malila asked.
“A good question, isn’t it? I’m not much of a country boy, but my wife, she was a farm girl from Illinois … so that is where we went to live. I worked as a federal marshal, and she and her brother ran the farm. It was a nice arrangement … as long as it lasted.”
Delarosa turned to look her in the face, his acute eyes capturing her own. “She was killed in the Meridosia Raid ten years ago. I’m guessing you’ve never heard of it. War breeds a lot of casual death.”
Malila had no answer to this and hurried on to her real point.
“Jesse acted as if the outlanders were all like him … old, primitive. Why are you telling me about the city?”
“I think he might have figured he was protecting you. He was operating kind of off the lead. He didn’t want to let the genie out of the bottle. Good policy that, in general.”
“Oh sure, protecting me from the truth … that does sound like him.”
Malila glimpsed an odd look on the captain’s face.
“You don’t like him much, do you?”
“Why should I like him, Captain? He captured me, cut me, beat me, and nearly killed me. Why should I like any of you?” she flared at him.
“Depends on how onerous you choose to make your captivity, Acting Lieutenant Chiu. Jesse suggested that you might enjoy the company of a woman close to your own age. Sally Stewert is a nice lady. I think you may have fallen onto your feet here, Lieutenant.”
Outland Exile Page 20