Stranger

by Bryant, S. J.

  "Do you think you can manage the simple task of dressing her properly?"

  "Yes, My Lord."

  "Good. Get her out of here."

  Meeka bobbed her head and approached Nova.

  Omi turned away from them and spoke quietly to Sia, whose cheeks shone red and nostrils flared. She spoke rapidly into Omi's ear, her shoulders stiff. She kept glancing at Nova, and every time her face got a shade redder and her jaw tightened.

  "Please come with me," Meeka whispered.

  Nova barely heard her over the stream flowing through the garden.

  Meeka turned and shuffled through the main entrance where she slipped off her sandals and continued on in white socks. Nova hadn't bothered to put her shoes back on; it seemed ridiculous to waste so much time putting on and taking off shoes. Meeka led her through the room where she'd met Toro and into the house beyond. Thin paper screens that could easily be moved divided each room and beyond some shadows moved and voices spoke.

  They went down a short hallway with open doorways leading into rooms on either side. At the end of the hall they reached a white screen that Meeka slid to the side to reveal a simple room beyond. A thin mattress lay on the floor in the far corner and a green vine climbed a wooden lattice in the other. The only other furniture was a closet made of bare wood and a candle in a metal holder that cast an orange light around the room.

  "This will be your room," Meeka said in a soft whisper that seemed to be her normal way of talking.

  Nova nodded.

  "I will fetch you one of my dresses."

  "I don't think so," said Nova, waving at her thick pants and long coat. "This is just fine."

  Meeka looked up at her with bright blue eyes, opened wide. Her face pinched and her brows drew together as she hesitated in the doorway.

  "I like what I'm wearing. It lets me move," said Nova.

  "Master Omi demands that you dress in our traditional way," Meeka said, her eyes like round orbs, begging with Nova.

  "Master Omi can demand whatever he likes. That doesn't mean I'm going to do it."

  Meeka's hands wrung about each other in front of her stomach as she bit her bottom lip. "Please, Master Omi won't understand. He'll think that I've failed him."

  Meeka's voice wavered and her gaze dropped back to the floor.

  Nova frowned. Omi certainly didn't treat Meeka like a sister, would he punish his own sister if Nova didn't dress how he wanted? It seemed ridiculous, but then the whole planet seemed ridiculous and Omi was unstable. She couldn't bare it if her own stubbornness got Meeka punished.

  "Alright. I'll try it," said Nova.

  Meeka breathed an audible sigh and ran out of the room. She dashed back a second later with a bundle of cloth draped over her arms. She laid the items carefully on the floor and held up the top one, a long, pink dress that draped to the floor.

  "No," Nova said, barely glancing at it.

  Meeka laid the dress on the ground and pulled up the second one; a purple dress with a puffy bow.

  "No!" Nova said. "Don't you have anything less useless?"

  "Omi wanted traditional." Meeka frowned and burrowed through the pile, her cheeks glowing red. Near the bottom she pulled out a simple black dress with a cord that held it tight at the waist. She looked at Nova, face pinched and eyes wide.

  "I'll try it," Nova said, afraid that Meeka would burst into tears at any moment.

  Meeka nodded and rushed forward, grabbing hold of Nova's shirt and tugging it up.

  "Woah!" Nova said, spinning away from Meeka's hands. "I think I can handle this."

  Meeka frowned and stepped back but didn't leave the room.

  Nova's face flushed as she turned away and pulled her shirt over her head. "Hand it over."

  "You must wash before the evening meal…"

  Nova rolled her eyes and glared up at the ceiling, praying for lightning to strike her down.

  "Then show me where your bath is."

  "No time tonight. For now you will use this." Meeka held out a bowl of steaming water and a white cloth.

  "Where did you…" Nova shivered in the cool night air.

  Before she could protest, Meeka ran forward and began dabbing Nova's skin with the warm towel.

  "Woah! Don't you people know anything about boundaries?" Nova said, taking the cloth from Meeka and rubbing it over her skin in rough lines.

  It came away darkened with dirt.

  Nova wet it in the water twice more and dabbed down the rest of her body. By the time she'd finished, the water had turned murky brown.

  "There, now hand me the dress," Nova said, still facing away.

  Instead of giving her the dress, Meeka stepped behind her and pulled it over Nova's head, drowning her protests under the fabric.

  The rough material scraped down Nova's face until her head burst out of the opening. Instead of arm holes, the sides of the dress opened wide, revealing Nova's ribs.

  "I think it's missing some material," she said.

  "Like this," Meeka replied, wrapping a sash around Nova's stomach and pinching the sides of the dress together.

  Nova gasped, unable to breathe as the dress squeezed her lungs. "Too. Tight," she whispered.

  Meeka frowned. "This is how it's worn."

  Stars danced over Nova's vision. "I can't breathe."

  Meeka pulled at the sash. "There, it's already too loose. Omi won't be pleased."

  To Nova it didn't feel like it had loosened at all and her chest heaved against the fabric with every breath. "I can't believe people wear this."

  Meeka's lips thinned but she didn't say anything. She turned to the door and clapped her hands twice. The screen slid aside and a thin woman in a plain brown dress stepped in carrying a wooden tray with small plates of food balanced on top. She nodded low to both Nova and Meeka as she knelt on the floor and laid the tray in the centre of the room.

  She took two small towels out from her belt and laid them on either side of the tray. She stayed sitting on the floor with her head bowed.

  "This is Ree, the house servant," Meeka said.

  "You have a servant?" Nova said, raising an eyebrow.

  "Yes. Please, sit."

  Meeka gestured to the white towel. Nova glanced at it, mouth turning down, and stayed standing. Meeka walked around to the other side of the tray and knelt so that her knees rested on the white towel. She waved for Nova to do the same.

  Nova crouched but the dress tangled around her legs so that she landed hard on her knees. With a curse, she yanked it free and shuffled to the towel, struggling to bend in the tight dress. Even through the towel, her knees pressed against the hard wooden floor, creating a dull ache and making her feet numb. "Don't you people have chairs?"

  Meeka looked up from her contemplation of the tray, her bright blue eyes glimmering in the dim light. "It is customary not to talk until the food has been served."

  "Well, where I come from it's customary not to sit on the floor."

  Meeka ignored her and turned back to the food. Her delicate hands fluttered like small birds over the food as she laid out two small plates. Using a pair of tongs smaller than her little finger, she placed a single piece from each main dish onto each plate, her hands never wavering. She set the tongs to the side and bowed her head low as she held one of the plates out to Nova.

  Nova shifted, uncomfortable, and took the plate. "Thanks."

  A white piece of meat like a tentacle curled around the edge of her plate, nestled against a slice of something purple that could have been a vegetable. Three orange cubes wobbled in the centre, dancing with Nova's jerky motions.

  Nova's stomach rumbled. There was barely enough food for one mouthful, let alone a meal, and yet the main serving plates were already almost empty.

  A strong smell, like rotting seafood and vegetables wafted from the plates, chasing away Nova's hunger and replacing it with a need to gag. She grimaced and looked up at Meeka to find the other woman staring straight back.

  "What are you wait
ing for?" Nova said.

  "It is customary to wait for the guest to begin eating."

  "Look," Nova said. "I'm sure this is very nice but don't you have any real food?"

  "Real food?" Meeka said, frowning. "This is real food."

  "No, I mean chicken and chips, roast vegetables, beef." Nova's mouth watered as she thought of her favourite foods.

  "I don't know what those are," Meeka said. "Except vegetables; there are some." She gestured to the purple slice on her plate.

  Nova sighed heavily; it looked as though there would be no chicken and chips for her tonight. She looked around for cutlery but there were no knives and forks in sight.

  She glanced at Meeka and saw that the other woman had picked up the tiny pair of tongs. Nova shrugged and reached for the other pair, her fingers looked like thick sausages in comparison. She reached for the white tentacle, hand trembling, and locked the tongs around it.

  It wobbled as she lifted it towards her mouth, holding her breath to block the rotten seafood scent. An inch away from her mouth the sticky tentacle slipped, falling loose from the tongs and landing with a wet splat on the front of her new dress.

  "Shit."

  Ree rushed forward, a moist cloth appearing in her hand, and wiped the tentacle juice away. Before Nova could protest Ree had patted her front dry and returned to her place beside the tray, head bowed.

  Heat seared Nova's cheeks and she glared down at her meagre meal. She reached out with the tongs, her hand already aching from using the unfamiliar tool, and gripped the purple slice. She lifted but it slipped back to the plate. She growled and tried again, but again it slipped away.

  "Bloody hell." Nova slammed the tongs into the purple slice like a blunt spear, impaling the purple vegetable on the end.

  Meeka gasped and Ree shifted, although she didn't look up.

  Nova grinned and brought the purple slice to her mouth, but her smile died as the leathery plant touched her tongue. It tasted as if she'd licked a used tyre, the scent of rubber filling her mouth. She chewed as fast as she could, swallowing a hard chunk with a grimace.

  She sighed down at the orange cubes; what new hellish taste would they bring?

  She clamped her tongs around the first cube, so hard that it squished into soft orange jelly that clung to the tongs. She brought it to her mouth slowly, and placed it on her tongue, closing her eyes. Instead of rotten seafood or burned tyres, her mouth filled with the sudden flavour of oranges. It was as if she'd just taken a bite out of the most flavoursome orange ever grown. The jelly melted on her tongue, sending tendrils of tangy citrus down her throat.

  Her eyes opened wide. "Now this is what I'm talking about."

  Meeka frowned at her. "You enjoy the oran cubes?"

  "Better than anything else I've had here."

  "Interesting," said Meeka.

  "Why?"

  "Most people of Chindo do not enjoy oran cubes but we have found that if we don't eat them we get sick."

  "Are you kidding? You people like eating the horrible rubber things, but you don't like these?"

  Nova shoved another cube into her mouth and relished in the flavour. Meeka inclined her head.

  When Nova finished the third and final cube she frowned at her empty plate, stomach growling. "Is there more coming?"

  "Excuse me?" Meeka said.

  "More food. That was the starters, right?"

  Meeka frowned and shook her head. "That was the main meal of the day."

  Nova's mouth hung open. "You're joking."

  Meeka's frown deepened. "I don't understand."

  "That wasn't enough to keep a person alive! I'm still starving."

  "We are fortunate to have so much food," Meeka said. "Many in the village have far less than this."

  "But—" Nova's protest died in her throat. Meeka seemed genuinely shocked that she wanted more food. She dreaded to think how the villager's survived.

  "Will my friends be fed?" she said, her thoughts on Tanguin and how weak she'd been.

  "They will be given similar to this," Meeka said. "Toro has commanded that they be looked after."

  "One of them is badly injured and one of them is sick."

  "The sickly one is being cared for by our healer. The one who caused trouble, the dishonourable man, is also being looked after, but our healer cannot care for him so he is being looked after by our animal carer."

  Nova dropped her tongs. They clattered to the floor and left a splatter of sauce on the wooden boards. Ree was there wiping it up almost before the tongs landed, although Nova barely noticed her.

  "What? What do you mean the dishonourable man? Why won't the healer look after him?"

  Meeka frowned and shifted on her knees. She glanced down at her palms and then at the floor. "It is impolite to talk about prisoners."

  "They're not prisoners; they're my friends!" Nova's voice rose louder and both Meeka and Ree turned pale. They glanced first at each other and then at the door.

  "Please keep your voice down," Meeka begged. "Or Omi will come and he will be unhappy."

  "Then answer my questions."

  "He tried to escape from the punishment he was given. That is very shameful," Meeka said. Her hands twisted about each other. Ree's face glowed red as she busied herself with collecting up the plates.

  "It's not shameful. He hadn't done anything wrong."

  "You all trespassed on Omi's land. That is punishable by death. It was merciful of him to let you live, and the dishonourable man repaid him by injuring the guard."

  "We didn't trespass; we crashed. And his name is Orion, not dishonourable man."

  Meeka's jaw tensed but she inclined her head.

  "Why can't the healer look after him?" Rage curdled in Nova's stomach, her hands balling into fists.

  "It would be considered bad luck for him to care for such a dis—" Meeka bit her lip. "Such a man. He would likely lose his other patients so Omi has forbid it."

  "That's ridiculous."

  Meeka didn't reply.

  Ree collected the rest of the plates and the tray and slipped silently out of the room. Nova brought her legs out from under her and stretched them along the floor. Pins and needles raced up her calves and made her leg spasm.

  Meeka's eyes widened and she looked ready to run as Nova extended her legs.

  Nova waved her hand. "I promise to sit properly if Omi comes in but if I stay like that any longer my legs will drop off."

  "How do you sit normally?" Meeka asked.

  "We have chairs."

  "I don't know that word."

  Nova sighed. "They're raised off the ground so that you sit on them and your legs hang down to the floor."

  From Meeka's frown Nova didn't think she'd explained it properly, but she didn't have a better way and she was exhausted. Still, she couldn't afford to sleep yet; she had to know everything she could about this place so that she'd be better prepared to escape.

  "So this is Chindo?" she said.

  Meeka inclined her head.

  "And who's Toro, is he your mayor or something?"

  "Toro is Emperor of Chindo. He is favoured by the gods."

  "What does that mean?"

  "He has powers. He knows things that he has no way of knowing."

  "He seemed like a man to me."

  Meeka mouth dropped and her eyes flew to the door before darting back to Nova's face. "Never say that again. People have been executed for far less."

  Nova bit her lip. If she got her way she'd prove to everyone just how powerless Toro was.

  "And Omi, your brother?"

  "He is a general in Toro's forces. We are honoured by his favour, but I think that is enough for tonight. You must rest, I'm sure there will be lots to do tomorrow."

  Nova nodded and stood.

  "If you need anything clap twice," Meeka said. "Ree will come and see you."

  "You're joking. Won't she be sleeping?"

  Meeka frowned and shook her head. "It is her job to be ready to assist the h
ousehold at any time."

  "That's not a servant, that's a slave," said Nova.

  Meeka shrugged. "The two words have the same meaning. Now please, rest."

  Meeka left the room, leaving Nova alone with the waving candle. She pulled off the uncomfortable dress with a lot of tugging and cursing until she yanked it over her head and hurled it into the far corner. She tugged on her familiar shirt and laid down.

  The thin mattress felt no different to lying on the cold hard floor, with no evidence of sheets or pillows. The only position where her neck didn't feel like it was being snapped was on her back with the wretched dress balled up under her head. So she lay like a corpse in a coffin, staring up at the bare ceiling.

  Through the thin paper walls she heard every footstep and every voice as if she stood beside them. She stored the memory away; she'd have to be careful about what she said because there could be no secrets in a place like this. Further down the hall Omi spoke in low tones to Sia. Past that someone, probably Ree, was sweeping; hard bristles scraping against wooden floorboards. Out in the courtyard leaves rustled against one another and the stream gurgled.

  She focused on the gentle water, blocking out thoughts of her day and letting it soothe her to sleep.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Nova woke to every bone in her body aching. Her head pounded as if she'd been hit with a tonne of bricks and when she sat up it hung heavy as if filled with lead. She pushed herself off the floor and rubbed her eyes.

  No sooner was she sitting then Ree bustled through the door with a tray. Nova's hopes for bacon and eggs were dashed at the sight of more purple rubber plants. She perked up a bit when she saw the orange cube to the side of the plate.

  "Shall I help you get dressed?" Ree asked, already reaching for the black dress scrunched in the corner.

  "No thank you. I can manage."

  Ree bowed her head and backed out of the room. She slid the paper screen shut behind her, leaving Nova alone with her unappetising breakfast. She forced herself to eat all of the rubber slices but she used her hands rather than the small tongs. The orange cube she saved for last, letting it dissolve on her tongue as she untangled the dress and yanked it over her head.