Dreams Ltd (4 page)

For a while I sat there with my eyes shut. None of the neighbours tried to engage into any conversations with me, passengers travelled in silence. From time to time the strained sneezing of the engine was heard as if due to the excessive load the bus was ready to give up and stop completely.

If this happens, we’ll have to push it up the hill all together-in the mud.

But to my surprise the bus was still crawling up the hill slowly and inexorably; after a few minutes I stopped listening to the engine.

To my left I heard someone’s jacket’s make a swishing noise. My curiosity compelled me to open my eyes. The man leaned over to his bag and took out a big red apple - glossy and ripe. He bit a juicy chunk out of it and began to savour it with great pleasure. My stomach responded straight away with a joyful rumble as though it was me who was about to get a piece of that apple. My neighbour stopped chewing and looked at me. I immediately turned away and closed my eyes.

What stopped me from having my breakfast? - “I don’t want it… I don’t want it”. So be hungry then.

His jacket swished again and after a second I heard a cautious “Hey”.

I turned my head towards the sound – the man was holding another apple in his hand – the first one was lying on his lap.

“Take it.”

I hesitantly looked at the apple.

“It’s washed.” added the neighbour.

I took the apple, said “thank you" and then sank my teeth into its sweet skin. The man turned away and continued looking out of the window. For some time we enjoyed our meals in silence. I glanced occasionally at the back of his head adorned with sand-coloured patchy hair. My militant antagonistic attitude that became apparent after the conversation with this man while we were waiting for a bus, cooled down slightly. The apple was sweet and shamelessly tasty.

My neighbour finished with his fruit, pulled out a piece of paper out of the bag and placed his apple stub in there. He then looked at me. I added my apple stub to his.

“Tasty, eh? I grew them myself.” he said proudly.

“Tasty.”

“I’m Ted.” the man suddenly introduced himself and his brown eyes under the bushy sandy-coloured eye brows glistened.

“I’m Shereen.”

I watched him as he skilfully stuffed the paper with apple stubs back into the bag.

“What is this?”

He followed my gaze back to his bag and fixed his eyes at the bunch of small colourful paper envelopes.

“Oh, these! These are seeds. I love gardening. And I thought that maybe if I am given a small patch of land I could grow something there. I always loved to potter around in the soil… you know grow flowers, shrubs, berries, vegetables, of course.”

“I see.” I replied feeling surprised by his hobby. But why did I think that a man like him wouldn’t like gardening? And it’s always possible to find a piece of land, I think.

“I’d like to grow trees as well. But I’m not sure if they allow me…”

“Why wouldn’t they?” I hardly had a clue about who “they” were though.

“How would I know? I’ve never been to Tally before”.

“Tally?”

“Yes, the city we are going to is called Tally.”

I nodded as if I knew that. Looks like he is going there for the first time too so he is not a good source of information for me then.

“I heard the conditions there are not very good - a lot of work to do, but maybe if you get some spare time...”

Our conversation made Ted more agile and lively, he obviously enjoyed talking to someone. Even his long wrinkled face transformed. But because I had nothing to say I was listening to him without interrupting. It’s no harm if he speaks for a while, is it? My silence didn’t seem to bother him at all - he took it for a hidden interest and I was hoping to get a few precious droplets of information about Tally while listening about the flowers and plants he grew in his life.

Our ride continued like that for another forty minutes. The mountains were surrounding us all around now. People began to shift, mumble anxiously and stretch their necks out like geese in an attempt to see more. Is it the first time for everybody here? Ted went completely silent. The reason for this liveliness became evident when the big rusty gates jammed in between the mountains appeared in front of the bus. The sign on the gates read “Authorised Staff of Area 33 and Official Vehicles Only”. The driver leaned out of the window, exchanged a few words with a man in the uniform and then handed something over to him. The soldier took the item - either a paper or flat box – I couldn’t see it properly from where I was sitting. He nodded to a colleague who was sitting in a glass booth and then the gate slowly slid to one side.

“So here we are.” a woman standing to my right said. She looked at me with sad eyes and sighed. “And when will we get to go home?”

I couldn’t find what to say.

We all sat in a spacious room which I in my mind I named “The border": worn out marble floor tiles, dull white walls, plastic chairs. People sat on them, nervously tugging on their clothes or bag handles. A white plastic table was located in the distance where the officer in a cap was admitting “visitors” - one at a time. I couldn’t hear what they were talking about but I could see how deftly the officer rips each envelope with a knife, gives a visitor a package and then lets them go. After passing “The border" table people were disappearing into a narrow corridor at the far end of the hall. I was going to find out where it was leading to after another five people that were sitting in front of me in the queue. From time to time other military workers were passing the line, looking at people with interest and then disappearing into various doors. The sound of their hard-soled shoes was echoing on the marble floor.

I fidgeted on the chair impatiently – I had an urge to pee and discover if they would check what’s in our luggage. Not knowing what was inside of mine made me feel very nervous. But according to my observations nobody touched the bags, at least not until the end of narrow corridor and that somewhat comforted me. Only a fortune teller, a prophet or Ted, who’d already passed that table, could tell me what was waiting for me at the end of the corridor. But neither of those was available at that moment.

I was twisting and turning in my chair until the moment when my name was shouted out by the officer and I hurried to the table.

“Good day. “ I greeted him cautiously and sat on the chair – a soft chair this time.

“Good day, good day…” the officer laughed briefly into his bushy moustache and his reaction reminded me of the fat bus driver.

What is so funny about my phrases?

“Give me your envelope.”

I handed the envelope over to him. I read the officer’s name on his badge – Carlos Brodsky. Wow, what an interesting name! Meanwhile Carlos ripped my envelope with a knife and took out a thin sheet of paper.

I wish I could have read it before you.

Brodsky quickly scanned the text with his eyes and looked at me with, what I thought, was respect.

“Wow! Not bad, not bad! It wouldn’t have been possible to predict your talent judging by your appearance.”

I barely stopped myself from raising my nose up. The Corporation has obviously given me a good recommendation! Well, at least nothing to be ashamed of. Great!

“Well, so you are a hacker! Wow!” continued the officer and I nearly choked.

A hacker? You must be kidding me!

“This kind of activity is highly intelligent and it would be a shame not to appreciate that.”

I couldn’t understand if Brodsky was mocking me or if he really had an admiration for computer geniuses.

“But, unfortunately, there is only one way after playing games like that – straight to this place - in the best case scenario.” he concluded proudly looking at me in my frozen state.

“Don’t be so worried” he tried to comfort me, taking my bewilderment for something else. “Anyone could make such a mistake playing games like that, but this place is nice and the people are friendly. Yes, the rules are strict, but I have to say they are fair.”

“I didn’t play any games…” I said before I could think.

What am I doing?! Who cares what abilities the Corporation has awarded me with – what matters is that they will allow me to enter the God damn territory. So I have to stop denying this! Otherwise I’ll ruin the whole operation trying to protect my honour”

“Of course nobody wants to admit their faults.” Brodsky looked disappointed. “Nobody wants to say that they are guilty”.

“Alright, alright! I’m guilty!” I changed the strategy before it was too late and tried to relax my body on the chair as if I really was the Queen of the Binary Dimension.

Whether I admit my guilt or not nobody will let me out of here anyway. So why bother with the honour? But it felt like a frank confession could change the officer’s attitude which could possibly mean a better outcome in the long run. Who knows what Brodsky is responsible for?

“There. Now we are talking! Good girl!” the man in a cap cheered up. “Why would you deny such a talent? I very much respect those who can do more than just send an email.”

Yeap, me too.

“Do you think if I had your talents I would be sitting here all day long?”

You’d be sitting inside the Tally… I think.

“And I would be getting much bigger money” Brodsky switched into a “dream” mode. “And unlike you, I’d be thinking ahead about how not to be caught.”

Right… Don’t get carried away, you, smart arse.

I made a sour face as if to show him “not everybody is as smart as you!” and sighed. He leaned towards me and tapped my hand with his.

“That’s alright girl, you are still young. So don’t feel too bad, I’ll find good accommodation for you. There is a cute vacant room in a nice location. Not very close to the centre though but the air is much cleaner this way, don’t you think? I don’t meet many talented people like you are very often and your face is pretty…”

I screwed up my face - thank God Brodsky didn’t seem to notice it.

“There.” A few objects appeared on the table. His sausage finger pointed to the one on the left. “There is a key to an apartment in this envelope. The address is written here. Show it at the bus stop so someone can tell you which bus to take or show it to a taxi driver. Now then…” the officer pointed to the next item – a wide metal bracelet.

“Put it on your wrist before leaving the building and never try to take it off until you gain one thousand points.”

“What do you mean “one thousand points”?”

“Please don’t interrupt me. This bracelet is your ID, your credit card and your life. All additional information you need is in this book. Now another thing is…” he knocked on the surface of a strange square object - a box with a screen and a “zero” showing on it - with the tip of his finger. “This is a static score counter. You have to keep it at home. Whenever we need to check how many points you’ve got – there is a small screen on your bracelet. Just in case - the bracelet is small – God forbid you break it.”

I can’t say that I understood much of what he was talking about but I tried my hardest to absorb everything. The items that I was presented with were given to every person and obviously it was an important part of the local system which was starting to remind me more and more of a prison. I still had to learn what their purpose was and how to use each of these in the future. Meanwhile Brodsky was singing like a bird:

“This book might be very useful. Don’t even think about throwing it to away.”

I glanced briefly at the cover of the book - there was one word written proudly in big font and it read “The Constitution”. In a smaller font there was another line: “The Rules and Regulations of Tally”.

“That is it, I think. The officer pondered for a second. “Oh, yes - you still don’t have any points credited to you, so here are your coupons. Each coupon is equal to one point. Use them to pay for a bus or taxi ride and get some food until you find a job.”

Five pink paper coupons emerged in front of me on the table.