“He isn’t very important now, is he?”
She jerked toward the doorway. Julia L’uboleng walked in and sat down at one of the tiny desks. Strangely, she seemed to fit in it.
If the woman had had fangs—“They came for him this morning, about an hour after the vote. Ben was one of the first. They’re all pretty well rounded up by now.”
It was like having your neck broken without any warning. Everything from mid-thorax down went instantly numb. “Wh—what are you talking about?” Lisa felt the world swirling, and grabbed hard on the edge of her desk to steady herself. “What do you mean, rounded up?”
The fangs glinted in the room light. “I thought you were an historian. What’s the first thing governments do alter they declare an emergency? Arrest the enemies of the state. Spies and saboteurs are everywhere, you know. Even your neighbor, or best friend, or loved…” She stopped in mid-choke. “Meanwhile, I do have some pleasant news.” She stood up, and brushed the wrinkles from her cramped clothing. “I’m here to inform you that the board has voted to release you from our employ.” She paused, to let the news sink in. “As an ex-citizen of one of the sanctioned states, it has been decided that you represent a potential security risk; too much to be entrusted with the education of children.”
Lisa didn’t know how to react. She knew her mouth was half open, but it would neither close nor emit intelligible noises. What she was being told was impossible, utterly impossible. Ben arrested? On what grounds? By whose authority? Under which laws? How…
The dying rap of Julia’s heels echoed through the emptiness of Lisa’s mind. In her most frightening nightmares she’d never imagined something like this happening. People weren’t arrested simply because of who they were anymore: that was one of those horrors which really had been done away with, like dictatorships and labor camps and—and yes, now that it came to mind, war. Arrested? Ben might as well have been sent to the guillotine.
Lisa realized her heart was racing, pounding thick blood into her brain. She shook off the coma that was starting to settle on her like a blanket, and fought to think about what she should do. But she couldn’t think, ideas flared and faded out before she could focus on them.
Closing her eyes, she breathed deep full cycles, over and over again, until her senses returned to clarity enough that she could think. What could she do? She had to speak to someone. The proper authorities. Demand that they release Ben… remind them that there was no clause in any article of any constitution in the entire Solar System which gave anyone the authority to hold a citizen against his will. And if they didn’t listen, take it higher. All the way to the World Court if necessary.
New York blurred by as she raced back to her compartment. She practically screamed at the pad, her throat already hoarse from the sobs she’d been fighting.
The pad could give her no information on shimp detainees or their whereabouts.
The claim didn’t register at first. It was just sounds in the air which made no sense. Even when it did coalesce, it took several moments to compose a response. “Withholding information on government activities is a violation of the UN Constitution. I order you to tell me!”
The pad’s voice seemed to crack under the strain of conflicting internal logic: “I’m afraid I cannot comply with that order, Ms. Jiang. I—” it could continue no longer.
She blinked back disbelief, and forced herself not to hyperventilate. The idea of not being able to contact or locate someone, or learn anything about his status or fate, was so inconceivable she could find nothing in her experience to deal with it. You mean, he just doesn’t exist anymore? She didn’t know what to do: whether to cry, laugh hysterically, go on a murder rampage, commit suicide or huddle in a corner, rocking autistically. Or carry on as though everything were normal.
There was only one thing she could think to do.
“Call Julia L’uboleng.”
She was just about to cancel the call when an indignant face and clipped, strawberry hair appeared. “What do you want?”
Lisa almost blurted out, but stopped herself in time and measured her words cooly. “You said they came for him. Who came for him?”
“What do you mean, who? Men with uniforms and weapons. I didn’t get their names. And no, they wouldn’t say where they were taking him. Now, if you don’t mind, I am very busy.”
Lisa didn’t hear the last three sentences. “The uniforms must have had something which identified them. Insignia or labels or something like that.” How could you have missed that?!
L’uboleng looked blankly astonished at the suggestion before answering, “I confess, I was too upset at the time to notice anything like that.” She cleared her throat. “I don’t see how it would do any good if I had. What are you going to do, call them and politely ask them to release Ben? You have some very amusing ideas, Ms. Jiang.”
The woman’s coldness, not to mention sense of hopelessness, was infuriating. “It’s better than sitting around doing nothing!”
Julia closed her eyes. When she opened them they bored directly into Lisa’s, delivering the thought her mouth would not yield. She said, as terminally as possible, “If you have a proposal, I’m willing to listen.”
Lisa broke the eye contact. Put up or shut up: I couldn’t have said it better myself.
“I rather thought that. You’re wasting my time, Ms. Jiang. Good-bye, again.”
“No!”
The connection remained alive.
Lisa knew it wasn’t much. But it was all she could come up with. “I’ll make you a deaclass="underline" I’ll keep you in formed of anything I find out, if you’ll do the same for me.”
She wouldn’t have thought it possible for that face to get colder. “Why—should I cooperate with you—on anything?”
That’s a hell of a good question. “Because—because you care about him, and because you know I care about him, too.”
She was sure Julia would have spat at her if she were standing there in person. “I know about your kind of caring. It’s not as admirable as you think it is.”
Lisa felt her chest twisting in on itself, crushing the life out of her. “I’m not going to sacrifice Ben for some cause,” she pleaded, “if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Julia leered her disdain. “Not going to? You’ve already sacrificed him. Why do you think he was one of the first arrested? Did you think a shimp cavorting around in public with a foreigner wouldn’t be noticed? Or don’t you believe in discretion?”
Lisa rocked backwards with this fresh attack. There was a frightening amount of truth in this one, too: she had been so impressed by Ben’s forwardness that it had never occurred to her she might be endangering him by indulging it. Perhaps the right thing to do would have been to turn away, even if it meant looking like just another bigot. Instead… Allison, all over again.
“Do us all a favor, Ms. Jiang. Lock yourself in your compartment, take your maintenance, live to a ripe old age, and die in obscurity. You might manage to not hurt anyone that way.”
The connection was broken brusquely.
Lisa looked down at her hands. They were wet, and not very steady either. They seemed to rock in a rhythm with her heart. Now what? She squeezed all her emotions into a tight ball, into a furnace of fear and rage and helplessness, not knowing who to damn first, or the most, but knowing that it needed someone to direct its fury at before it detonated.