The Hourglass (2 page)

The Tower

The tower used
to be a grain silo. It wasn’t in use anymore. The city simply didn’t have enough
grain. The tower was fenced off on all sides by an eight-foot tall wire fence,
but the giant rusted hole on one side of the fence ensured that it would have
failed to keep out a dog. No one tried to go inside. Water had been trapped
inside the silo at some point in the past and now the inside of the silo was
full of mould. As a result the tower was one of the few places in the city
which wasn’t suffocating in people. As far as Sarah could tell, no one went up
to the roof either. The only reason she could think of for this was the effort
it took to get up there in the first place. The staircase was steep and rusted
through in some places and required a mini-tower of old crates to be built up
just to access the bottom rung. She was always panting by the time she got to
the top. Granted, the view wasn’t the best either. It might have been once but
the buildings around it had never stopped expanding. Now it sat surrounded by
apartment blocks. She didn’t mind though. If she stood in one particular corner
and crouched down a little, she could sometimes even see the sunset.

Sarah was
relieved and disappointed at the same time that Abby wasn’t there. Abby was a
nine year old girl who lived in one the surrounding apartment blocks and had
made a habit of following Sarah to the top of the silo. She was probably the
closest thing Sarah had to a friend, although she wasn’t about to admit it.
Sarah sat down cross-legged in the middle of the roof, closed her eyes, and
drew in a deep breath. She opened her eyes.

Holy crap,
she thought,
I’m screwed
.

The noise of
someone scrambling onto the roof interrupted the relative silence and she
turned around. It was Abby. She must have spotted her climbing up and followed.
Abby’s dirty blonde head grinned at her.

“Hey loser,” she
said, “what’s up?”

Sarah burst into
tears. She almost felt as if she could have dealt with anything except for
Abby’s usual chirpiness. Somehow the very ordinariness of it highlighted just
how bad her situation was.
What was wrong with me?
she thought angrily,
wiping the tears off her face viciously. She looked back up at Abby and burst
out laughing at the look of uncomprehending terror on the girl’s face. Sarah
was pretty certain that Abby had never consoled anyone older than her in her
life and it was obvious that she had no idea what to do. She sniffed and wiped
away the final traces of her tears.

“What. The.
Hell?” demanded Abby, looking relieved now that Sarah had stopped crying. “Are
you crazy? No seriously, have you cracked? Because I can’t handle that.” She
threw her hands up as if to ward off Sarah’s craziness, which only set Sarah off
again, laughing until her sides hurt. Then she remembered what had happened and
the laughter died on her lips. She was feeling oddly hysterical now and she
took a few deep breaths to calm herself down.

“I got caught
stealing. Not that I actually stole anything. It’s a long story.”

“So apologise.
Make big eyes and promise to be good blah blah blah,” replied Abby,
unconcerned. Sarah realised belatedly that she should have expected this
response. Abby had always been somewhat of a small-time thief. She nicked small
cheap things that would never be noticed. Most of it was just junk and Sarah had
never understood why she risked it all.

“No Abby, you
don’t understand. I got caught by a soldier.” She lifted up her sleeve and
showed her the tattoo.

This time the
look on Abby’s face didn’t make her want to laugh. It was full of horror and
pity. Abby’s open mouth made a few motions, like she was trying to say
something, but nothing came out. She gave up and moved to sit near Sarah
instead. They sat that way for a while, not saying anything, and Sarah decided
that she was glad that Abby was there after all. She was glad that somebody
else knew, and what’s more, that they understood.

“My cousin used
to work on a prison ship,” said Abby eventually, breaking the silence that had grown
comfortably around them.

“Oh yeah?”
replied Sarah numbly.

“I asked her
once,” said Abby, glancing at Sarah out of the corner of her eyes quickly,
“what I should do if I ever ended up there.”

This time Sarah
turned her head to look at Abby.

“And what did
she say?”

“She said either
be very popular, or very unnoticeable.”

Sarah blinked in
surprise. Abby suddenly looked a lot older than she was. Then the effect
disappeared as Abby leaned over and gave her a quick hug. Abby scrambled to her
feet and ran towards the staircase.

“You better come
back and visit me!” she demanded. “And bring me a present!”

“It’s a prison
ship you idiot!” yelled back Sarah as Abby’s head disappeared from view. “Not a
cruise ship!” She shook her head, as if clearing her thoughts. “And they
wouldn’t even send me there anyway, they’d send me to the farms,” she added in
a mutter, but it was no good. Abby was as good as gone.

Sarah stayed
there until it started to get dark, her mood plummeting with the light. She
stood up. She had to go home.

It was time to
face her mum and uncle.

***

Sarah took a
deep breath and opened the door. Her mother and uncle were sitting at the
table, their faces grave. She knew, before they even opened their mouths, that
they knew. The tears that she had managed to put off since the tower sprung
back up, threatening to spill over her cheeks.

“Oh Sarah,” said
her mother so quietly that she nearly missed it, “what have you done?”

The Trial

The next three
weeks passed in a blur. For Sarah time seemed to slow down and yet go too fast
at the same time. She would find that whole chunks of the day just seemed to go
missing. It was like she was sick, although she knew that there was nothing
wrong with her physically. Then it was the day of the trial. She stood in her
best clothes before the judge. There was no jury. Just the judge, her mum and uncle,
and some stranger who was there for the next hearing, all squished into a small
room that smelled like left-over soup. The room was stuffy and humid. The judge
was a large man who had sweat marks staining the chest of his robes. He looked
tired and miserable. He probably hadn’t had a break all day. Sarah watched the
judge intently as he read silently through her offence. She drew in a deep
breath. Any moment now he would ask her to speak, and she would again offer to
work for the pie shop owners for as long as they wanted without pay.

“It says here
that you were found with the stolen possession in your hands.” He raised an
eyebrow in her direction.

“Well, yes,
but-”

“And that you
were caught fleeing from the crime scene?”

“Yes, but-”

“So you are
pleading guilty?”

“Yes! No, wait,
no! I had the pie but I didn’t steal anything. It was given to me!” She said it
quickly, pushing the words out before he could cut her off again.

“Yes,” said the
judge, perusing the document in front of him again. “A boy, who you can’t
identify, stole a pie for you, and then disappeared into thin air.” His voice
was flat.

“It’s the truth.
The owner can tell you that a boy was there.”

He returned to
the document. The sweat running off his forehead was causing his glasses to
slide down his nose. He pushed them back up absentmindedly.

 “Hmm,” he
mumbled to himself. A bit louder he said, “yes, one was in the vicinity, but
she doesn’t claim that he stole from her. Only you.”

“Let me work-”
began Sarah in desperation, but she was cut off by the judge’s raised hand. He
removed his glasses, rubbed the space between his eyes and put his glasses back
on. “You are sentenced to three months on the prison ship
Anoscosa
.” He
hardly looked at her.

Sarah swayed on
her feet, the world dissolving around her. She vaguely registered the sound of
her mum gasping.
He didn’t even let me finish,
she thought as someone,
the bailiff maybe, guided her out of the stand.
He didn’t give me a chance
to speak.

Then her mum’s
arms were around her, and her uncle was wrapping them both in a big bear hug,
and then she was being pulled away.
No,
she thought, confused,
I’m
going the wrong way. My family is over there.
She struggled in the person’s
grasp. There was a wheeze as her elbow struck her captor’s stomach. She made it
a single step before something sharp was stabbed into her neck.

Then the world
went black.

Cellmates

Sarah woke up in
a small room. The roof above her was blurry around the edges and her right hand
trailed against the floor, her arm having fallen off the camp bed she was lying
on. She swung herself up into a seating position and immediately regretted it as
the urge to vomit surged throughout her abdomen and rose up her throat. The
room swam before her eyes and she clutched the edge of the bed to steady
herself. After a moment she recovered enough to look around.  The room was a
metre by a metre and a half. The thin camp bed was the only thing in it. A
small, high set barred window and a metal door broke up the monotony of the
cracked, yellowing plaster walls. Her neck was throbbing slightly where they
had stabbed her with the needle and she poked at the site cautiously. To her
relief it didn’t seem like there was any damage. Sarah stood up gingerly and
went over to the window. If she stood on her tiptoes she could just see
outside. Not that the view was particularly interesting, just a small, dirty,
empty alleyway and a blank wall. She tried the door next. She knew it would be
locked, but the temptation was just too great. She jiggled the handle. It was
locked. She sighed and sat back down on the camp bed.
Five minutes
. That’s
how long her trial had lasted for. The number buzzed around in her head like an
angry wasp. In five minutes her entire life had just changed. She was going to
be sent to a prison ship.
How could that have even happened?
she thought
angrily.
Surely it was a mistake?
All the small time offenders got sent
to work on the farms. That’s what the councillor had told her. She had spoken
to him for ten minutes the day before the trial. He had looked tired and
harried, like the judge. He had told her to try and argue her case to work back
what she had stolen, but if that didn’t work then she would just be sent to
work on the farms for a while. He had seemed to miss the part where she had told
him that she was innocent. Now that she was sitting in a cell she decided that
she wouldn’t have minded working on the farms. Sure, it was meant to be hard
work, but they reportedly fed you well to keep you fit and working. The prison
ships, she had been told, were where they put all the really bad criminals, the
ones they couldn’t risk escaping. She closed her eyes. Apparently she was now
one of them. A small sloppy pie that she didn’t even get to eat and she was now
a danger to society. Thinking of it made her miserable, but there was nothing
to distract herself with and so she gave into the temptation to feel sorry for
herself and wallowed in self-pity for a while. Forty minutes later, just as
Sarah was starting to wonder if they had forgotten about her, the slot in the
door to her cell slid open to reveal a pair of brown eyes. The eyes scrutinised
her for barely a second before they disappeared and the slot was slammed shut.
A moment later the door swung open, squealing on rusty hinges. A woman with
severe looking hair stood in the doorway. She wore a guard’s uniform. The woman
motioned with a jerk of her head for Sarah to follow her out of the room.

“Where are we
going?”

“To the communal
cell.”

“The communal
cell?” repeated Sarah apprehensively. All of the horror stories she had ever
heard about crowded prison environments came back to her, and she shivered.

“You’ll wait
there with the other prisoners until the bus comes to pick you up.”

“When will that
be?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Am I really
being sent to a prison ship?”

“Yes.” The guard
looked bored.

“Why not a farm?
I was told I would be sent to a farm by the councillor.”

“Well, now
you’re being sent to the ship.” The guard’s words were delivered with a sense
of finality, making it clear that it was the end of the conversation.

They exited the
corridor and passed through a room where a bored-looking guard sat at a desk,
before arriving at a second room full of cells. The room was long with cells
lined along the left-hand side. They were larger than the cell she had been
held in only two minutes before. Each cell was identical. Three of the walls
were the same, yellowing, cracked plaster. The fourth wall, which faced the
corridor, was made of thick, transparent plastic, open at the top and bottom by
a thin strip. Sarah looked apprehensively inside the first cell as she waited
for the guard to open it. There were two other girls already in there. The
first girl was sturdily built. She was wearing cheap clothes and had a lot of
bracelets on one arm. The girl could have been anywhere from sixteen to twenty-one.
It was hard to tell her age any more precisely due to the unwavering expression
of dislike she was directing at Sarah. Sarah blinked in confusion and looked away
awkwardly. She didn’t feel brave enough to return the stare. The girl had
strategically sat in the middle of the bench that took up the entire side of
the cell to Sarah’s right. While it still would have been possible to sit on
either side of her, it would have made them just that little bit too close for
comfort. Sarah got the distinct impression that if she asked the girl to move
along the bench to make a little more space, it would have been taken as a
challenge. By the simple act of sitting that way on the only bench, the girl
had claimed dominance over the room. The other inhabitant was a tall, skinny
girl with bony legs who sat on the floor with her back against the wall at
right angles to the bench. She looked to be about seventeen. She was picking at
her nails in a nervous, agitated manor, and ignored Sarah completely. Abby’s
words of advice drifted through her brain; either be very popular, or very
unnoticeable. Sarah glanced at the two girls as the guard gently shoved her
through the door and locked it behind her. She wasn’t going to win any
popularity contests with these two. Unnoticeable it was then. She sat down on
the floor in the corner of the cell, the furthest away from the two others that
she could get. Her back was against the wall opposite the bench, her right arm
pressed against the transparent wall. She soon discovered the problem with this
arrangement, and why the skinny girl had chosen to sit where she had. Sarah was
now in the direct line of sight of the angry-looking girl on the bench. She
considered moving so that she would instead face the skinny girl, but she
didn’t want to look like she was easily intimidated. 

“What did you
do?” demanded the girl on the bench.

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t be a frag.
You know what I mean.”

Sarah shrugged
her shoulders. She supposed she did. “I stole something. I got caught.” She
tried to say it like she couldn’t care less. There was no way that she was
going to admit that she hadn’t stolen anything, and that what they said she had
stolen was a sad-looking pie. That wasn’t about to strike fear or respect into
her enemies, and she had a feeling that this girl was not going to be a friend.

The skinny girl
looked at her for the first time. “What did you steal?”

“Why are you in
here?” replied Sarah, deflecting the question with one of her own.

“Marland burnt
down a building,” interrupted the angry girl. She smirked at the skinny girl,
as if daring her to protest. Sarah looked at Marland, horrified. What with so many
people living so close together, fires were a serious threat to the city. They
spread in a blink of an eye, destroying everything in their path. Marland
interpreted the look and blushed guiltily.

“It was just
shed,” she muttered.

“Why did you
burn it?” asked Sarah, before she could stop herself.

“She wanted to
get back at her mum,” replied the angry girl, butting in again. Marland just
hung her head and didn’t say anything. Sarah was finding the angry girl’s
interruptions annoying. Could she not just mind her own business for ten
seconds?

“Well, what did
you do then?” demanded Sarah, a bit more forcefully than she had intended.

The angry girl
raised an eyebrow in mock surprise, but answered anyway. “I stabbed a guy.” She
paused to savour the effect. It was clear that she had been looking forward to
saying that. Sarah tried to keep her face as neutral as possible, but at least
some of her expression must have leaked through, because the girl smirked in
satisfaction. “He was trying to rob me,” she continued, without anyone asking
her to. “He thought he could intimidate me, wave a fist around in my face and
expect me to just faint at his feet or something. You should have seen his face
when I pulled out my knife and stabbed him. It was hilarious. The stupid fragger.”

Sarah didn’t say
anything. She didn’t know what to say.

After a moment
the girl snorted and muttered, “yeah, I thought so.”

Sarah felt her
face redden. She wished it wouldn’t.

“Oh look, you’re
going all red!” shrieked the girl, as if it was the most entertaining thing she
had ever seen.

“Really?”
replied Sarah sarcastically, “I had no idea.” Of all the things people did, she
could never understand why everyone felt it necessary to point out that she was
blushing. It wasn’t as if she didn’t already know this, and it was obvious that
she was embarrassed and that pointing it out would only make it worse.

The smirk on the
girl’s face disappeared fast. “What did you say, frag? Were you mocking me?”
Her voice had gone hard and dangerous.

Suddenly Sarah
just couldn’t care anymore. All of the horrible events that had happened to her
over the past few hours built up and overwhelmed her tolerance for other
people. She stood up, slow and steady.

“You know what?
Yes, yes I was mocking you.” She took a step towards the girl, who had widened
her eyes in surprise. “In fact, I-” She was cut off short as the door to the
corridor opened and a guard walked through. The guard took in the scene with
one glance.

“Sit down,” she
ordered Sarah. Sarah shrugged and sat back down. It was almost a relief. As
much as she wanted to punch that girl in the face, she had also never hit
anyone in her life and there was a high chance that the girl would beat the
living crap out of her. With a look that warned them against any future
bickering, the guard left the room to check in each of the other cells,
eventually disappearing back the way she had come. By this point both Sarah and
the girl were studiously ignoring each other. Marland continued to pick at her
fingernails. Thirty minutes later the lights overhead flickered out. Sarah
guessed that this meant it was time to sleep. Not that it was likely that she
could sleep whilst a person who is known to stab people sat on the bench
opposite her; especially as she had just succeeded in making her angry. For a
moment she searched desperately through her memory, trying to recall whether
the girl had anything near her that could be used as a weapon. She couldn’t think
of anything, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t there. Sarah sighed. It was going
to be a long night, and she missed her family.

The tears came
unbidden as images of her mum and uncle sprang up infront of her eyes. For the
first time she was grateful for the dark. She didn’t want anyone to see her cry.
She didn’t want them to think that she was weak.

***

Sarah woke a few
hours later to a foot pressed against her cheek. She hadn’t even realised that she
had fallen asleep, let alone slid down the wall. She was lying awkwardly on the
concrete floor, her arm trapped beneath her body. The foot ground into her
face, causing her to wince in pain as her cheek scraped against the concrete.

“Do you like
that, frag? Do you like that? Huh?” hissed the girl.

Sarah made a
noise without meaning to. It was half way between a squeak and a groan.

The girl
chuckled. “Yeah, I thought so. So next time you go about being disrespectful,
just remember that I always come out on top.”

Sarah didn’t
reply.

“Do you
understand me?” she hissed. She ground her foot in harder.

“Yes,” gasped
Sarah in pain. She felt like her cheek bone was about to snap.

“Good. Remember
it.” The pressure of the foot disappeared. Sarah didn’t move until she heard
the girl return to her bench and lie down. Then she rolled over onto her back,
her hands on her face, as she tried to work out the damage. To her relief it felt
much the same. There was a graze on her right cheekbone where it had been
ground into the concrete, but that seemed to be the worst of it. Sarah hoped
fervently that the morning light wouldn’t reveal a boot mark on her face. The girl
on the bench started snoring. A sudden desire to get up and do something awful
to her swept through Sarah, but she didn’t move. She knew it would only make
things worse if she did.
How could I be so stupid,
she thought bitterly,
to make an enemy before I even leave the city. So much for following Abby’s
advice about going unnoticed.
 

“Hey,” whispered
a small voice. It was Marland. “Are you alright?”

Sarah wanted to
just roll over and ignore her. If Marland knew what had happened, then she
could have tried to help, instead of just watching. Sarah sighed; Marland was
just scared. Besides, she wasn’t in a position to turn away friends at the
moment, especially as she lacked the skills to make them in the first place.