The Terrorists of Irustan (36 page)

forty-two

*   *   *

To be a member of Offworld Port Force is a privilege. The ExtraSolar Corporation invests each employee with the rights and honors thereto, and can revoke them at its discretion.

—
Offworld Port Force Terms of Employment

T
he persistent
buzz woke Jin-Li from an exhausted slumber. She swam slowly up from thick depths of sleep, disoriented, struggling to open heavy eyelids, to comprehend the source of the noise. By the time she fully recognized it, she had already scrambled awkwardly, half-awake, to her closet. The wavephone lay on the floor by her boots. She fell to her knees and scrabbled for it, turning over one of the boots, scraping her injured hand on the door. Still kneeling, she put the phone to her ear. Fresh blood trickled down her wrist.

Onani’s voice was cold. “Find Zahra IbSada, Chung,” he said. “They’re going to execute her husband, the chief director. ExtraSolar doesn’t like it.
I
don’t like it.”

Goosebumps sprang up on Jin-Li’s forearms. “Not sure I can do that,” she muttered into the phone.

“You have to. You’re the only card I have to play.”

Jin-Li rose slowly, the phone still at her ear. She walked to the balcony door and looked out into the hot, white sky of Irustan. It was late afternoon, a day and a half since she left Zahra in the Medah. After spending almost a whole night in the streets of the city, she had put in a full day at the landing field. Last night she had fallen into bed before dark.

So, she thought, Qadir IbSada would be held to account. Perhaps, for the Irustani, that was preferable to admitting that a woman had rebelled, hadfought back, had used her own mind. What Zahra had done was revolutionary.

“Look,” Onani said now. His voice dropped, deep and ominous. “Sorry about this, Jin-Li, but you’ll have to comply.”

Jin-Li waited, listening to the living, silent r-waves.

“If this execution is carried out,” Onani said, “I’ll have to use you to distract ExtraSolar. They’ll be too busy tracking your bribes and their mistakes, exercising the Terms of Employment, to pillory me over Irustan’s domestic adversities.”

Another pause. Jin-Li put her head against the glass. To the south, three Port Force carts trundled toward the Medah. To the north, one skimpy cloud hovered above the ridge of the hills. She couldn’t see the white cells of Pi Team.

“Jin-Li,” Onani growled. “Do you understand me?”

Jin-Li’s jaw ached with tension. In a neutral voice, she said, “Oh, yes. I understand you.”

*   *   *

Jin-Li retraced the route she had driven two nights before. She passed the intersection where she had bullied Pi Team. When she was close to the market square, she turned the cart and drove a kilometer away, deep into the Medah. On a street of modest houses, she left the vehicle. Two men painting a fence stared openmouthed at the sight of an Irustani man climbing out of a cart marked with the circled star.

Jin-Li tossed the keys of the cart into the driver’s seat, adjusted the dark glasses, pulled the flat cap low. With a touch of hand to heart to the two men, almost a wave, Jin-Li set off for the market square.

The loose Irustani shirt and trousers were comfortable in the heat, the shoes lighter and cooler than Port Force boots. The square was lively with men’s voices and vendors’ calls. Cycles whined past pedestrians in the narrow streets.

Jin-Li walked through the square, winding between the rows of stalls, and out again to the other side. It took time to find the torn blue awning marking the spot where Asa and Zahra had left the cart and disappeared. Three boys dashed by, shrieking. Veiled heads showed occasionally behind dingy curtains. The inner city buildings had a sameness, a dingy monotony. They gave no clue as to which might be sheltering Zahra IbSada.

It was too early for the unveiled ones to be about. Jin-Li chose one of the slender lampposts and leaned against it to wait for the covering darkness that would bring them out.

Another small boy burst from one of the narrow doors and leaped down the single step directly into the street. He ran to Jin-Li and stopped, holding up a grubby hand. “Kir!” he piped. “Buy my fithi? Only one drakm!”

The child did indeed have a tiny, half-dead snake in his hand. It wriggled feebly, twining around the chubby fingers.

Careful of the Irustani accent, Jin-Li said, “Sorry. I have no place to keep

it.”

The boy stuffed the little creature into his pocket and cocked his head to look up at Jin-Li. “I have a leptokis! You want that? Only one drakm!” Jin-Li said doubtfully, “You don’t really have a leptokis, do you?”

“I do!” the boy claimed. His round cheeks creased with a delighted smile. “Are you afraid?”

“Yes,” Jin-Li said. “I am. Aren’t you?”

“No,” the urchin answered, with a shrug. “It’s a dead one, anyway.” “Ah."

Jin-Li straightened and started to walk away, but the boy danced alongside, craning his neck to look up. “Want some coffee, kir?” he cried. “My mumma makes it. Only one drakm!”

Jin-Li stopped, hands on hips, and said slowly, “No, no coffee, thank you. But there is something you can do for me.”

Jin-Li dug into one deep pocket and pulled out three drakm, holding them out for the boy to see. The child hopped up and down, grinning with delight. “I’m looking for someone,” Jin-Li said. It was the wrong thing to say.

The boy froze. His voice dropped, his tone harsh, too old for his childish features. “Not now,” he said. “Only at night.”

“No, no.” Jin-Li hastened to correct him. “You misunderstand me. It’s a man, a friend of mine. He walks with a cane. A bad limp.”

The boy’s face brightened. “He’s around here somewhere? I can find him, I’ll bet I can find him!”

Jin-Li jingled the drakm temptingly in one outstretched palm. “All right, young man. These are yours if you do.”

*   *   *

No one passing in the street seemed to find Jin-Li’s presence unusual. One or two men nodded greetings, more just walked by without acknowledgment. There were no women. A boy walked past, loaded with parcels, and disappeared into one of the plain doors. Feminine voices answered his arrival, and he came out again a few minutes later without the packages.

At midafternoon, when it began to look as if the boy had given up on the three drakm, he reappeared. His energy was considerably diminished, but his grin was triumphant. He stood before Jin-Li, hand straight out, palm up. “Pay me!” he cried.

Jin-Li said, “How do I know you’ve really found my friend?”

“As soon as you pay me, I’ll take you right to him!” the boy said. Jin-Li, laughing, dropped the drakm into his dirty hand.

The boy led Jin-Li to a building as anonymous as all the others. It was three stories tall, long enough to fill half of one block. Its undecorated windows were grimy with age, some broken, held together with strips of moldering tape. Jin-Li doubted much light would filter through those panes.

The boy rapped on the door. It opened narrowly, showing a wedge of darkness, and the child chattered to someone inside.

The door closed, and footsteps moved away from it. After a short delay it opened again, and Asa himself stood in the doorway, peering cautiously out. “It is you, isn’t it, kir?”

“It is I,” Jin-Li said, pulling off the dark glasses.

“We hadn’t expected to see you again,” Asa said. He glanced up and down the street. “You’d better come in.” He stepped back and held the door just wide enough for Jin-Li to enter.

Jin-Li saw a long, dim room with a splintered floor. Several doors were set into the walls, and a long table waited at one end. Asa’s cane clicked across the bare boards. Jin-Li remembered the boy and turned back, but the guide had already vanished with the treasured drakm. Jin-Li walked after Asa.

A little group of women was gathered at the table. Behind them a kettle steamed on a battered stove, and a girl of perhaps eighteen stood over a cracked sink. All the women wore caps, with veils unfastened and tossed back over their shoulders.

Jin-Li recognized Eva, having seen her eyes, and nodded to her. Asa went to stand beside the girl at the sink. “This is Ritsa,” he said. “And you’ve met Eva, her mother. These others are their friends. This is their home, all of them together.”

Jin-Li touched hand to heart. No one returned the greeting. Asa’s gentle features were grim. “What is it you want, kir?”

Jin-Li asked, “Is Zahra here?”

“Why do you want to know?”

Jin-Li gave him a hard look. “Asa, do you think I would betray Zahra?” Asa’s usually mild voice was like iron. “You must forgive me, kir. This is life or death.”

Jin-Li lifted one shoulder. “Nothing to forgive, my friend. But I assure you, you can trust me.”

“You’re Port Force,” Asa said bluntly. The women at the table were suddenly very still. Every eye was on Jin-Li.

Jin-Li said quietly, “No more, Asa. As of today, no more.”

A familiar voice said, “But why? What’s happened?”

Jin-Li whirled to see Zahra standing halfway down the long room. She was in the same dress she had worn two nights before. It looked as if she had not taken it off since. Her feet, and her head and face, were bare. Her eyes were hollowed and her cheeks thin. Jin-Li wanted to run to her, embrace her, but stood still, saying only, “Onani left me no choice.”

Zahra stepped closer, her eyes dark and glittering. “Tell me,” she said. “Tell me what he said.” She stopped an arm’s length away.

Jin-Li said, “It doesn’t matter. I want to be here, with you. On Irustan.” One of the women at the table rose. “Who can blame him, Medicant?” she said sourly. “Irustan is a great world for men!”

Zahra looked at the woman, at Asa. She said bluntly, “Jin-Li Chung is not a man. Jin-Li is a woman. Like you. Like me.”

The woman gasped. “O Prophet—do you know what they’ll do to you if they catch you in men’s clothes? That’s a capital crime! They’ll put you in the cells!”

“I know,” Jin-Li said. She turned to Asa, whose eyes had gone wide with shock. “I’m sorry, Asa. I couldn’t tell you. No one knew, except Zahra.”

Asa shook his head in confusion. “Why, then?” he demanded. “Why stay on Irustan?”

Jin-Li spread her hands. “Irustan, Hong Kong—it’s all the same. I thought when I left Earth I would have my freedom, but it seems our troubles follow us. I never made a difference on Earth. Maybe on Irustan I can.” “Jin-Li.” Zahra’s voice was low, intense. Jin-Li turned slowly, her heart constricting. “Tell me what happened,” Zahra said. “What Onani said.”

“He said to find you, or he’d turn me in. Send me back.”

“What else?” Zahra’s eyes burned into Jin-Li’s.

“The rest doesn’t matter,” Jin-Li said. “We can’t do anything about it.”

“It’s Qadir, isn’t it?” Zahra’s voice rose slightly.

“Zahra,” Asa said, hobbling to her. “Sit down. Be calm.”

Zahra submitted to Asa’s urging, and sat in the chair he held for her, but her eyes never left Jin-Li’s. “Tell me, tell me now,” she commanded.

Jin-Li sat down across from her. She put her hand out across the scarred table, but Zahra’s hands were wound tightly in her lap. Asa put one arm protectively on the back of her chair. “Jin-Li is right,” he said tightly. “There’s nothing we can do.”

“Tell me anyway,” Zahra said.

Still Jin-Li hesitated, watching Zahra’s tormented eyes, but she could see no way to spare her this pain. “I’m sorry. It’s true. It’s Qadir. They convicted him this morning.”

Zahra slapped both her hands on the worn table, an angry blow that rang in the room and must have stung her palms. She stood up, and the chair fell to the floor with a crash. “Damn them!” she cried. She strode away, heedless of the broken floor and her bare feet. She paced down the room and out the door.

Jin-Li rose to follow her, but Asa said, “Let her go. She will suffer over this. We can’t help her.”

Reluctantly, Jin-Li sat down again. The young woman, Ritsa, put a cup of coffee on the table before her. They sat, the five of them, in an uncomfortable silence. Jin-Li felt the suspicious eyes of the women on her, on her men’s clothes and short brush of hair, her heavy-lidded eyes. Asa averted his gaze as if her appearance were somehow shameful. Jin-Li clenched her teeth. She would just have to endure. It was necessary, if she were to be here, with Zahra. Perhaps, slowly, acceptance would come.

Zahra did not return in the next hour, or the next. Dusk gathered outside the grimy windows of the tenement. The children came in, and the women laid the table with plates and bowls. Asa hobbled about, helping Ritsa as she stirred soup and sliced bread. Ritsa spent some time cutting rotten spots from pieces of fruit. Jin-Li supposed the fruit was gleaned from someone’s discards. Her own mother, in Hong Kong, had done the same.

At last Jin-Li could bear the idleness no longer. She stood up. “Excuse me,” she said. “Are you going to let me stay here?”

The women, and Asa, looked at her in silence. At length Asa said, “I think it’s all right, Eva. We’ve known Jin-Li for some time. And if he—she—meant to turn Zahra over to Pi Team, it would already be done.”

Eva nodded. “All right,” she said. “You can stay. For Zahra’s sake. Ritsa, find Jin-Li a room, would you?”

Ritsa left the stove and led Jin-Li, with a gesture, out the long room and up two flights of stairs. At the top landing she said, “Most of the rooms are taken, but there’s a small one here, right by the bathroom.” She pushed open the door and Jin-Li looked inside. The room was small, indeed, and the bed only a mattress on the floor. “I’ll get you some blankets and things somewhere,” Ritsa said apologetically. “We don’t have much.”

“It’s fine,” Jin-Li said. “Thanks.”

“Zahra’s room is just there,” Ritsa said, pointing.

Jin-Li followed her pointing finger. The door she indicated stood ajar. No sound came from within. Moving quietly so as not to disturb Zahra if she were sleeping, Jin-Li walked to the room and looked in. Her heart thudded in her chest, and her mouth went suddenly dry.

“Ritsa,” she said in a raw .voice. “Zahra’s not here.”

“She must have gone down, then,” Ritsa said. “For dinner.”