New Reality 2: Justice

by Michael Robertson

  The tablet was heavier than the ones she was used to reading on. It was also dented around the outside. It had seen a lot of use and was only a year or two old.

  One tap and the device came to life with a brilliant glow. The bright light stung Marie's eyes, so she turned the backlight down. How did people even read off that screen?

  Marie's heart skipped when she saw the very first image that dominated most of the screen. It was common for The Mail to fill their articles with pictures and not many words—it appealed to their readers. The picture was of the boy from the train the previous day. It had been edited like the video; Marie was nowhere to be seen.

  After skimming the article, Marie rolled her eyes. It was all about ‘estate rats and the threat they posed to society and good, hardworking families’ and how they were ‘the rot that ran through the city's veins’. The mixed metaphor was usual fair for The Mail.

  In the bottom right-hand corner, was a picture of the blonde woman with the tight ponytail. A crack on the screen ran straight across her face. The image was a link to a video of her interview.

  It was only when her brow started to ache that Marie realised just how much she was scowling at it.

  A shake of her head and Marie swiped the screen to bring up the next page. A quiet swoosh added something tangible to the action.

  The main photo was of one of the blocks on the estate. The picture had clearly undergone some serious editing—it made the estate look clean and desirable; it almost looked like somewhere people could live. The headline was printed all in capitals.

  IMMIGRANT MOTHER OF SEVENTEEN GETS ENTIRE FLOOR OF TOWER BLOCK

  As Marie read the story, her pulse quickened and her body temperature rose again. Every paragraph was littered with phrases like 'government handouts' and 'expecting a free meal ticket'. At the bottom, there was a link to an old article titled ‘Sterilising the Poor’. What was wrong with these people? Was eugenics making a comeback? Marie swiped across to the next report.

  Swoosh!

  The next picture was of a mother with four young children around her. It was an action shot, and the children were clearly arranged to look as feral as possible… almost like they were feeding on her still-living flesh. How much knowledge had the mother had of the paper's intentions when they took that photo?

  FOUR BASTARD CHILDREN! HOW MANY IS ENOUGH?

  On further reading, it was clear that all of the children had the same father who ran his own business and they didn't take a penny from the state. They'd made a choice not to get married, but other than that, they were functioning citizens of Nirvana. They didn't even live on the estate, but it was unlikely that many Mail readers would care enough to study the article; the headline was enough to force-feed them an opinion.

  The baby moved, but Marie resisted the urge to reach down and hold her stomach.

  When Marie lifted her head, she jumped upon seeing GG standing in the entranceway to the booth. She covered her pounding heart and half-laughed. "How long have you been there?"

  With a broad smile, GG shrugged, stepped in, and pressed the button that closed the door behind her.

  Whoosh!

  When she slid onto the leather sofa, the seat creaked softly beneath her delicate movement, and the booth was suddenly filled with the sweet smell of flowers.

  GG nodded at the tablet in Marie's hand. "Why are you reading that trash? It's bad enough with the news reports."

  Marie placed the tablet back on the table. "I got here early and wanted something to do. Although, I wish I hadn't now. It's utter garbage." She lifted the menu, ordered a decaf coffee, and passed the menu to GG.

  Once she'd finished with her order, GG reached across and turned the tablet face down on the wooden table. She then wiped her hand as if to remove some kind of stink. "It's such a hateful news site. They're on a permanent wind up. Every article's a provocation that feeds into the bullshit of this godforsaken city. The worst thing is, people believe it and then base their vote on it."

  Watching GG's face redden, Marie smiled at her.

  "What?"

  As Marie pulled her long hair into a ponytail, she laughed. "This is why I got a good feeling about you when I first saw you. I knew we were going to get on, even before we spoke. I knew I could trust you."

  The seat creaked again as GG leaned back into it. "Sorry, I just get so irked by the injustice of it all."

  After a few seconds, Marie said, "Oh, before I forget." She reached into her top pocket and fished the credit card from it. "I need to give this back to you."

  Despite Marie holding it out to her, GG didn't take it.

  "Frankie won't like the idea of charity. He says he'd rather work two jobs than take money from strangers."

  "I didn't give Frankie the money, darling."

  "But I feel like I'm lying to him if I take it and don't tell him."

  "I understand. I'll tell you what—you hold onto it, and if you still haven't used it in a year, give it back to me. But please remember, I don't want it back, so if you need to spend it, do. If you don't, I'll give it to charity."

  A wave of emotion rushed forwards as Marie put the card back into her pocket. Her voice cracked when she said, "Thank you."

  "Consider it a gift to the baby. If it needs anything, then you don't have to worry."

  The table then opened up and Marie's drink appeared in the centre of it. When she pulled it towards her, a small amount of the dark liquid spilled over the rim onto the white saucer. When the strong smell of coffee found Marie's nostrils, her mouth watered. "How do you like working in the control room, GG?"

  "I don't," GG said. "It's bullshit and I'm not comfortable with some of the stuff being done to the prisoners."

  "Me either. Did you see Doug terminate the guy I'd been watching the other week?"

  "Yeah. He made such a show of doing it. Arsehole."

  The liquid was still steaming in the mug, but Marie raised it to her mouth and took the smallest sip anyway. The hot and bitter coffee scalded her lips, making her eyes water. Marie put the mug back down. "I'd watched him for weeks. His name was Jake. He was a good man. He was just lost. Our shitty system failed him, and he ended up in a waking nightmare. I left it as long as possible, but I felt like I needed to tell Doug."

  "You did all you could. I had two terminations in my first few weeks, and it messed me up. I hated it. I cried myself to sleep each night. Doug was the same with me; he laughed about it until he found another prisoner to terminate."

  "If people found out what goes on in that room…"

  "But they won't, will they?" GG said. "That secrecy contract has us bound tighter than a Christmas ham."

  The screen mounted in the booth sprung to life at exactly the same time GG's skinny latte rose up through the centre of the table.

  "Hank Manifesto, Nirvana TV."

  "Urgh," GG said, "that man needs to be terminated."

  "Breaking news, ladies and gentlemen. We have footage from a raid earlier today. After the terrorist attack on the train yesterday, police got a lead on others in the gang."

  The footage on the screen flashed to a helmet-cam and was similar to many before it. The police entered the narrow walkways in the estate, kicked a few doors in and then beat the shit out of the people they found behind them. The television's speakers came alive with a cacophony of crunches and screams. A spray of blood covered the camera's lens until it was wiped away with a clumsy hand and left a red smear through which the rest of the footage was viewed.

  As the violence played out on the screen, Marie's vision blurred; it could be them very soon. She wrapped her hands around the steaming cup of coffee and her mind retreated from the situation.

  Chapter Thirty

  When GG waved, it pulled Marie from her grim thoughts. After snapping her hands away from her hot mug, Marie stared down. A swollen throb pulsed through them. How did she not notice the burn? A shake of her head and she rubbed her face before looking at GG. "Huh?"

  Concern cr
eased GG's brow. "Are you okay? That's about the tenth time I've called your name."

  Despite the sting on her clammy palms, Marie rubbed her face again. "Sorry," she nodded at the now blank screen in their booth, "that report threw me." What should she tell GG? How far could she afford to let her into her world? She knew about Frankie, so what else was there to hide? "I was on that train with the boy yesterday."

  GG's eyes widened. "You were there?"

  "Yeah. It was on the way to work. He wasn't a terrorist; he was someone from the estate that needed to get to work on time so he didn't lose his job. He had a baby and partner to care for. Getting on the train was his only chance to get there." Marie started to shake. "I'm so scared I'm going to end up on the estate."

  "I feel for you, darling. It's horrible the way the people from the estate are treated." After a pause, she added, "We were robbed by people from the estate when I was a child."

  "God, that must have been terrible; I'm not saying they're all innocent, you understand."

  "No, they're not, but I get why they did it. There were four of them and they wore masks. When they came in, we were all sitting on the sofa watching television. The first we knew of it was when we heard the sound of splintering wood as our front door was kicked in."

  As Marie watched GG drift back into the memory of that day, she held her stomach, the baby shifting at her touch.

  "They told us to stay where we were. The fact that men had burst into our house wearing masks and carrying bats should have scared the life out of me."

  "It didn't?"

  GG shook her head. "No. They all spoke softly. They were kind. They said they didn't want to hurt us. They even asked which items had sentimental value and couldn't be replaced. At first, Dad thought they would take the things we listed, but they left it all. One of the men even came downstairs with my dolly and gave it to me. I remember him saying that she was scared and I should look after her. He must have had children himself. When I think about those men, I think about the families that never got to see them again."

  "Like the family of the boy from yesterday," Marie said. "The police dragged him from the train, and I can't see any way he would have survived the beating they gave him on the platform." The familiar weight of depression tugged on Marie's frame. Some days it felt like remaining upright was an accomplishment and life was one long, uphill climb. Despite having never met the boy's baby and partner, she knew them well. Hell, she was them. "So what happened?"

  While running her finger around the rim of her mug, GG stared into the distance. "The police were waiting outside. We later found out that our neighbour had called them. The second the men left, they were set upon. I had nightmares for months about the kicking I saw them take. I've been petrified of the police ever since." The usual vibrancy had left GG's eyes when she looked back up.

  A sip of her strong coffee and Marie said, "How did society get to this point?"

  GG shrugged.

  "It amazes me every day that Frankie managed to get off the estate," Marie said. "I don't know how he did it."

  The glow returned to GG's face. "It's some feat. He must be a special man. It must give you hope that you'll get through this."

  "Yeah, it does. He's very practical, although his upbringing has stayed with him."

  "What do you mean?"

  "He's cold, emotionally. Sometimes he gets lost inside his own head for days and no one can coax him out. It's hard—especially when life gets tough like it is at the moment. I can see he tries his best, but some days, he's unreachable. There are also times, like when we talk about the estate, when he gets really cross with me. Because I haven't lived there, it's like he thinks I can't understand how bad it is. But I can see how terrible it is. Sure, I haven't lived there, but I'm scared to end up there too."

  When GG didn't reply, Marie spoke again, her words sticking in her throat. "I know he loves me." Hot tears leaked from her eyes. "I just wish it felt like we were working together more often. I feel like we both hold so much back from one another. I'm certainly keeping things from him."

  It was obvious that GG was curious about what Marie was hiding, but she didn't ask. Instead, she let her talk.

  Marie fanned her face and forced a laugh. "Listen to me; I'm worried about our connection when we may be homeless in a couple of weeks."

  "Connection's important when you have to go through stressful situations."

  The world around Marie was lost to the blur of tears. After a deep breath, she wiped them away and sat up straight. Maybe she could tell GG about her plan. "I think I have a way to stop it from getting to that, but it involves getting more information from Doug."

  The deep green of GG's eyes looked from one of Marie's to the other. "I was going to ask you about that. I knew you were up to something with him. It looks like a dangerous game from where I'm sitting."

  A hot flush spread across Marie's cheeks and she looked down at her coffee. "It's been that obvious?"

  "What going on, Marie?"

  This was the moment. After this point, there would be no going back. Tell GG, and she was putting her full trust in her. Nothing had happened since they'd last met up. No one had come to see her because she was fraternising with co-workers. No one seemed to know she was pregnant. If GG had wanted to rat her out, surely she would have done it by now. There was compassion on GG's face, not malicious intent. All Marie had was her gut instinct. "I think I have a way to get the twenty-five thousand credits for marriage from Doug."

  GG's jaw fell loose.

  ***

  After Marie explained what she saw in the prison, GG sank back into her seat and ran a hand through her hair. "So you're sure he showed you and the government workers the same ward twice?"

  "Yeah, and he claimed it was a different ward. He's hiding something; I'm certain of it. I just need to find out what that something is so I can use it against him. Sure, flirting with him makes my skin crawl, especially when he gets a bit too up close and personal, but it's also when his tongue loosens the most. He's stupid enough to reveal his cards sooner or later, but not so stupid that I don't have to tread lightly around him."

  "So what have you got out of him so far?"

  "Nothing concrete. I mean, I've seen his reaction when I mentioned the wards looking the same, and he's been quite defensive if I've asked too many questions."

  "You need to be careful, Marie."

  "I know." A palpitation shook her heart. "But it's not like I have all the time in the world. Flirting with him makes me feel sick." Marie's bottom lip buckled. "But I'm desperate, GG."

  It looked like GG was close to crying too, her eyes glistening with sadness. "I know, darling." She reached over and held Marie's hands. "It's a scary time at the moment. Don't worry, we'll get through this."

  Chapter Thirty-One

  When Marie stepped out of the train station, she looked up and down Station Road, and a low level of anxiety simmered in her guts. The first time she came here was when she had met up with GG and witnessed the run-in between the police officer and the man from the estate. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get the thoughts of that man from her mind. Was he okay? Did he still have a job? Had the police caught up with him again?

  Was it a risk coming here? There may have been a laundromat closer to her home. How was she to know, though? She never used them. With her washing machine broken, she had to take her bag of dirty laundry somewhere. It wasn't a stretch for her to come here. She didn’t know how long it would take Frankie to find the dislodged fuse, but it was long enough for her to have left the house. It was the perfect cover up.

  Not much had happened to Marie in the few days since she'd been on Station Road last. After meeting GG for a second time in the cafe and telling her what she knew about Doug, she went home, slept, worked, slept, and worked. The only thing out of the ordinary was Doug's unusually low profile; it had been nearly a week since their meal at Zampanó's, and she hadn't seen him since.

  As Marie walke
d in the direction of the laundromat, the thick August humidity made her chest tight, and the surrounding air clung to her like a wetsuit. Slow steps did little to prevent her from sweating, and she was so thirsty her saliva had turned to a sticky paste. Was this the worst August ever because she was pregnant, or had it really been that hot? People had complained about it, but people always complained. Whatever the case, at least her third trimester would be in the winter. How did other women cope in the heat? Then again, most women probably weren't strapped up like burlesque dancers while being over twenty weeks pregnant.

  Marie slipped a finger beneath the bottom of her corset and scratched her clammy skin. The itch was worse than ever. At the end of every day, when she finally took the cursed thing off, her skin was red raw. Even bathing was painful now. Some days she felt so bad she wanted to claw her own skin off.

  ***

  Once she arrived at the laundromat, Marie stopped at the front door and looked up and down the street again. An irregular tempo took control of her heart, and she took deep breaths to try and settle it. Was this too risky? Did she really need the unwanted attention from the police if they thought she was a sympathiser? But she'd come all this way; it would kill her if she didn't follow through and find out what had happened to the man. Besides, she was just about to walk into a laundromat with a bag of washing, so it was hardly suspicious behaviour.