Culture Shock

by Christopher Nuttall

  And protesters on the far side of the fence, he thought, sourly. He’d made sure to prepare the compound for an assault, if the protesters ever worked up the nerve to charge. The policemen outside the wire wouldn't do anything to stop them. We’ll have to fight sooner or later.

  “Do not worry about it,” his father said. “You have an entire life ahead of you.”

  Joel shrugged. He knew he should be grateful. His father had married again, just to ensure that Joel had a Forsaker bride when the time came. The Elders might be doddering old fools - they’d wasted days arguing over just how much they should accept from their cousins - but his father was still doing the best he could for his son. Joel knew he should be grateful ...

  ... And yet, he knew his contributions were being ignored.

  Let them think they’re in charge, he told himself, grimly. He ruled the Stewards now, not the Elders. He controlled the guns; he controlled the men trained to use them. And one day, they can be pushed aside.

  He looked up, grimly, as the door opened. Hannah stepped into the living room, followed by her brother. Joel’s lips curved in utter contempt as he wondered what sort of man would let the woman take the lead. But then, it wasn't as if they were walking into a stranger’s house, was it? He leaned forward, wondering just what was in the bag Hannah had slung over her shoulder. Perhaps he should demand that her mother inspect it ...

  “Hannah,” Konrad said. “Please, sit down.”

  Hannah’s face flickered as her gaze moved from Konrad to Joel and back again. Joel had no difficulty in reading her expression. She thought she was in trouble, again. Did she have a reason to think she was in trouble? Going beyond the wire would expose her to all sorts of influences, none of them good. If a couple of young men could be shunned for spending too much time with Outsider women, what would it be like for a young woman?

  But you’re not in trouble, Joel thought, as Hannah sat. This is the best thing that could happen to you.

  He felt a sudden surge of affection, mingled with droll amusement. Hannah looked very ... typical, for an unmarried girl. She wore a long grey shapeless dress and a white cap, the latter indicating that she was a virgin. A widow would wear a black cap. And yet, there was something about her that called to him, something that marked her out as special. A little work to restore her reputation and she’d be the perfect wife for him.

  And once I am in control, Joel thought, no one will dare speak against her.

  John sat next to Hannah, eyeing Joel warily. Joel barely looked at him, unwilling to risk showing his disgust. Hannah had practically emasculated her brother, if only because John was unable to stand up to her. Joel would make it clear, right from the start, that he was in charge, that she would be expected to confine herself to the female sphere. He liked her, he cared for her ... but he wouldn't allow her to dominate him. How could John have gone so badly wrong?

  Their father died too soon, he told himself. And neither of them developed properly.

  “This is our home for the next year,” Konrad said, waving at the stone walls. They were now covered in handmade tapestries, all removed from the crates. A curtain hung in front of the female quarters, ensuring that men knew not to enter. “We will not get a farm until later.”

  Joel scowled, although he tried to keep the expression from showing. The local government might have given them the estate, but it hadn't been very clear on when the Forsakers could move to the farms. Joel had ordered some of his people to apply for positions on local farms - it seemed to be the usual way for a local townsman to become a countryman - yet only two of them had been accepted. The rural dwellers seemed even less inclined to tolerate the Forsakers than their cousins.

  “But we are settled for the moment,” Konrad said. “I have therefore decided that the time has come for you and Joel to be joined in holy matrimony.”

  Hannah started. “I ...”

  “You are really too old to remain unmarried,” Konrad told her, severely. “And you have few other prospects.”

  That was true, Joel knew. Most young men his age wouldn't want to marry her - and if they did, their families would forbid it. Hannah simply wasn't very reputable. Her only other prospects were older widowers looking for a second wife, something that was largely frowned upon in the commune. An old man had no business marrying a girl twenty or more years younger than him. The thought was appalling. A man old enough to be his father marrying Hannah ...

  “I cannot get married,” Hannah said, finally. Her eyes were flickering from side to side, as if she was unwilling to look at any of them. “I ...”

  “You are more than old enough to marry,” Konrad said. “My son has good prospects. As his wife, as the mother of his children, you will have good prospects too.”

  Hannah looked at her mother. “I can't ...”

  “You can,” her mother said, firmly. “I have done my best to organise a good match for you, Hannah. It was not easy. You will take it and be glad.”

  “The marriage will be held in four days,” Konrad continued, remorselessly. “Once you are married, any stain on your reputation will be removed. I will be able to find your brother a match of his own.”

  “No,” Hannah said.

  Joel stared at her. She was saying no?

  “Yes,” Konrad said. “Your selfishness has cost the family dearly. You are lucky you have not been shunned. The time has come to put aside childish matters, take a husband and raise a brood of children. It is your duty.”

  He rose. “You and Joel may discuss the wedding plans now,” he said, motioning for John to rise too. “The formal engagement will be announced tonight, after prayers. And I suggest you remember, young lady, that your actions significantly reduced your choices. No one came to pay court to you, not ever. You have no other suitors.”

  Hannah stared at him, her mouth moving soundlessly as her mother and her brother followed her stepfather out of the room, leaving her alone with Joel. Joel was surprised, more than he cared to admit. Konrad hadn't told him that Hannah didn't have any other suitors, but he’d always assumed there would be some. They just wouldn't come from good families. Or they’d have dark intentions.

  “Hannah,” he said, quietly. “We need to talk.”

  Hannah hunched up in her chair. “Go away.”

  “I can't do that,” Joel said. A hot flash of anger burned through him. She was rejecting him, after all he’d done for her and her family? “We have to talk.”

  “No,” Hannah said.

  “We do,” Joel said. He reached out and touched her chin, pushing it up until she was looking at him. “We have to get married.”

  “No, we don’t,” Hannah said.

  Joel gritted his teeth, calming himself by sheer force of will. “Why not?”

  Hannah looked at him for a long moment, then looked down at the floor. “I don't want to marry you.”

  The rejection stung, more than Joel cared to admit. “Why not?”

  “Because ... because I want to be something more,” Hannah said. Her voice cracked as she spoke. “I want to be more than just a housewife!”

  Joel regarded her with honest bemusement. “But it is your role!”

  “I could be a doctor,” Hannah said. “Or a proper midwife. Or ...”

  “Or what?” Joel asked. A thought struck him and he leaned forward. “Who’s been putting these ideas into your head?”

  Hannah looked up at him. “Does it matter?”

  “Yes,” Joel snapped. Hannah had been talking to an Outsider girl, hadn't she? The girl had clearly had an effect on her. “You’re not an Outsider.”

  He reached for her bag. She clutched it, but he pulled it free, tearing it open to reveal a set of pamphlets. The first one talked about medical courses at the university; the second talked about possible careers, if someone had a medical degree. He tossed the remainder aside without bothering to look at them, feeling a flare of pure rage. How dare she?

  “You stayed with us,” he snapped, fighting to cont
rol his anger. “Why did you stay?”

  Hannah glared at him, her face twisting with anger and bitter rage. “Because I thought my mother needed me,” she snapped back. “I could have stayed on Tarsus!”

  “You don’t get to move between two worlds,” Joel said. He clenched his fists, struggling to keep himself from striking her. “You are either a Forsaker or you are Fallen. There’s no middle ground!”

  “Why not?” Hannah asked. “Why do I have to be a housewife or leave? Why?”

  “We made a decision to leave the sins and corruptions of the modern world behind,” Joel reminded her. He’d answered the question before, he recalled, but never from Hannah. He couldn't help wondering if she’d ever discussed it with her mother. Girls rarely talked to the Stewards about their personal feelings. “We seek out a simple life.”

  He took a firm grip on his temper, shoving it into the very back of his mind. Women were flighty creatures, his father had said. Their emotions were strong, almost overpowering. And so they could not be trusted. Women needed men to show them the way, to guide, protect and discipline them. Hannah had had a chance to leave, months ago. She hadn't taken it.

  Gritting his teeth, he went down on his knees beside her, taking her hand in his. She tensed, but made no attempt to pull back. Joel told himself, firmly, that that was a good sign. She was willing to listen to him, no matter what she said. All he had to do was find the right words.

  “Your reputation is tainted,” he said. “Marriage to me will solve that problem. No one will dare question you again. I will be a good husband, a good father ...”

  “How noble of you,” Hannah said, bitterly. “You don’t have to change, do you?”

  “You cannot go on like this,” Joel told her. “Your place in the commune is at risk ...”

  Hannah shook her head, her cap falling to the side. “Who cares?”

  “I care,” Joel said. “Your mother cares! My father - your stepfather - cares ...”

  “Your father married a widow just so he could ensure his son married her daughter,” Hannah snapped. She jerked her hand back, hard. “He doesn't care about me!”

  Joel nearly hit her. If she’d been a man, he would have hit her. How dare she? Woman or not, emotional or not, there were limits. His father had put his own reputation on the line when he'd married again, knowing he would have to tame a rebellious daughter and teach a young boy to be a man. Joel knew what his father had sacrificed. How dare Hannah treat it so lightly?

  “Marry me,” he said, harshly. He'd make damn sure she knew her place, afterwards. “You and I will ...”

  “No,” Hannah said.

  “Why not?”

  “Because I don’t want to marry you,” Hannah said. “I don’t like you, I don’t ...”

  Joel hit her, his fist slamming into her chest. Hannah screamed, her entire body jerking forward. She swung her arm at him wildly, but Joel had no difficulty catching hold of it and yanking it forward, throwing her face-down over the chair. Hannah kicked out at him, then screamed again as he slammed his fist into her back. He stepped to one side, holding her down with one hand as he unbuckled his belt with the other. She was still fighting, despite the pain, still trying to get away from him. And then she kicked him in the knee ...

  Rage - red rage - overpowered him. He brought the belt down time and time again, lashing her back, her buttocks and the backs of her legs until she was sobbing helplessly, all resistance gone. Dark stains were visible on her back, suggesting he’d broken the skin ... he found himself staring down at her as the rage drained away, torn between guilt and a desperate need to believe he'd done the right thing. She’d deserved it, he told himself. He hadn't had a choice. And yet, her rasping sobs tore at him. He’d lashed her harder than he’d lashed Adam or Jack.

  “I have to join the boys for football,” he said, carefully buckling his belt back into place. “I will be back tonight. We’ll discuss the wedding then.”

  Hannah said something incoherent. Joel hesitated, then picked up her papers and headed for the door. She'd deserved the beating, he told himself firmly. No one could steer a course between two worlds. She was either a Forsaker, in which case she should accept the judgement of her parents, or a Fallen, someone who had no place in the community. And she'd insulted his father and stepmother. It was his duty to punish her, to keep her in line ...

  He turned to take one last look at her as he reached the door. She hadn't moved, her entire body shaking so badly that he couldn't help wondering if he’d inflicted permanent harm. He wondered if he should call a doctor, even though he knew she would probably prefer to be left alone to recover. A doctor ... the entire community would know what had happened within the hour, if they didn't already. The cottage was surprisingly soundproofed, but Hannah’s screams had probably been heard all over the estate.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, finally. “But you deserved it.”

  Hannah said something else. It didn't sound pleasant. Joel hesitated, then turned and walked out of the door, closing it firmly behind him. She knew, now, that he was not to be taken lightly, not to be dominated by a wily woman. And she would be happier for it, he told himself firmly. She had to know that she could no longer act in a disreputable manner. The lesson would sink in, now it had been administered.

  We will be married, he promised himself, silently. And then we will be happy.

  ***

  John had been surprised when Konrad had ordered him to leave Hannah and Joel alone, even though they were - technically - stepsiblings. It wasn't right, not when they were also betrothed. John couldn't help thinking that it portended trouble. Konrad seemed to think they would all be going to prayers, but John managed to get away from him and then run back to the cottage. He was just in time to see Joel leave, heading towards the edge of the field. It didn't look good.

  He braced himself as he opened the door, then froze. Hannah was kneeling on the chair, her face blotchy with tears. He could see marks on her face and dark stains on her dress ... she was whimpering, whimpering helplessly. John could barely move as he took in the horrific scene. What had Joel done to her?

  “Help me,” Hannah said. Even her voice was different. She sounded as though she was on the verge of collapse. “John ...”

  John stumbled forward and caught her, a moment before she fell off the chair. She seemed to be having difficulty walking, her entire body stiff and unresponsive. John was struck, suddenly, by just how light she was. Droplets of blood were falling to the ground. It was an utter nightmare. And Joel ... Joel had done this to her?

  “We have to get out of here,” Hannah breathed. She seemed to be recovering, although it was hard to tell. “John ...”

  John stared at her, then nodded in grim agreement. If Joel was willing to beat her so badly when they were merely betrothed, what would he do when they were married? He had no idea where they could go, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was getting out of the estate before Joel came home.

  “Let’s go,” he said.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  And, collectively, the wars sapped the Empire’s strength. Vast amounts of blood and treasure were wasted on wars that the Grand Senate chose not to bring to an end. (Indeed, some factions didn't want the wars to end.) The sheer level of ethnic hatred the Empire had stirred up wanted, demanded, release.

  - Professor Leo Caesius. Ethnic Streaming and the End of Empire.

  Judith had been sitting at her terminal, writing an updated account of the spaceport situation, when she heard a faint tapping at her door. A horn hooted downstairs, surprising her. She picked up her pistol - her father had insisted she carry, if she wasn't prepared to return to the farm - and peered carefully through the peephole. John was standing in front of her door, looking terrified. Judith opened the door, careful to keep the pistol at the ready ...

  ... And almost fainted when she saw Hannah, sitting on the floor.

  “My God,” she said. Hannah looked ... battered. “What happened?”


  “We told the driver you’d pay the cab,” John said. “Do you have any money?”

  Judith stared at him. What cab? Where had they come from? She hastily passed him a fifty-pound note, then helped Hannah stumble into the apartment. Prices had been going up lately and cabbies always overcharged the tourists, but fifty should be enough to cover it. She wasn’t sure what she’d do if John needed more. The local ATM had been out of money for the last two days.

  “Hurts,” Hannah managed, as John hurried back into the apartment and closed the door. She sounded as though she was having trouble breathing. “I hurt!”