Liberation (I Am Margaret Book 3)

by Corinna Turner

  “You can’t waddle!” exclaimed Caroline, “it’s your wedding !”

  “You’ll look like a duck!” Harriet was equally aghast.

  Bane laughed, then rolled onto his stomach so he could see me where I sat on the window seat with Sarah. Clearly deducing I wanted to snatch a little time with my friends while they were here, he gave an exaggerated yawn.

  “Perhaps I’d better try and sleep it off, then.” He settled his chin on his arms.

  “So how’s Africa?” I asked Sarah.

  She brightened at once.

  “Africa great place. Sarah has hamster now.”

  “A hamster? Really?”

  “It’s not a hamster,” put in Harriet, “that’s just what we call it. It’s really a desert... um... what’s it called, Caroline?”

  “Desert Jerboa,” said Caroline. “Like a hamster only it’s got big legs and jumps like a Kangeroo. It likes Sarah, though. If she puts it down it’ll come right back to her.”

  “That’s ‘cause she feeds it sugar lumps,” said Harriet.

  “Sue like sugar,” said Sarah firmly.

  “Sue?” I asked. “That’s its name?”

  Harriet and Caroline put their heads together and broke into giggles.

  “Sue has long legs. Look like Sue... other Sue,” said Sarah.

  “Face like a fox,” said Caroline – she and Harriet sniggered again – so did Bane. They must’ve read ‘I Am Margaret’ now and know Sue tried to steal my short story.

  “So what do you do there? Where do you live?”

  “Kanju,” said Sarah, “Sarah like Kanju.”

  “It’s a free town,” said Harriet. “Self-governing.”

  “The state Kanju’s in does toady to the EuroGov a bit, so they say,” said Caroline, “but I expect y’know what it’s like with towns with FreeCharters over there, they’re just untouchable.”

  I nodded.

  “I know.”

  “Yeah, so Kanju’s free. ‘Parently it doesn’t actually count as an Underground town, ‘cause it’s got a...” Caroline paused to get the word right, “it’s got a representative government, but most everyone there is Underground. We live in one of the communal houses. There’s lots of jobs to do there, I mean, it’s a whole town.”

  “Yeah, but we all work in the weaving workshops,” said Harriet. “We’re not very good yet, we just make mats from recycled stuff – when we get better we’ll be able to make fabric for clothes on the big looms.” She gave Caroline a significant look, but Sarah had already jumped up and practically dived under the bed, pulling out a large colourful bag.

  All three of them gathered around it and took out some long rolled up things.

  “Were you thinking we’d forgotten your wedding present?” giggled Harriet. “Bet you were!”

  “I honestly hadn’t thought about it,” I said – honestly.

  “Well, here we are,” said Caroline. “Bane, are you awake?”

  “Yep,” yawned Bane. “The sight of Mrs Verrall is keeping my eyes open better than caffeine.”

  Blushing, I exchanged a rather soppy grin with him.

  “I made this one, Harriet made this one,” Caroline unrolled three colourful mats, “and Sarah made this one.”

  “They’re for your house,” said Harriet eagerly. “Um... when you have one.”

  “For floor.” Sarah took the top one and laid it out in the space beside the bed.

  “They’re lovely.” I meant it. Sarah’s usual taste in colour matching ran directly contrary to that of pretty much the entire of the rest of the world’s population, but for once the result was attractive rather than blinding. The purple, orange and green just looked cheerful.

  Bane reached down a hand to examine the rugs.

  “That’s great.” Genuinely pleased. “We’ve got, like, household goods now! And all these rooms here have wooden floors.”

  Bane and I took a moment to arrange the rugs, though we were actually moving to a single, larger double room later.

  “So how are the hours?” We settled down again with mugs of hot chocolate Jon had appeared at the door with. “Is it hard work? How’s the heat?”

  “Oh, it’s very hot,” said Caroline, “but it’s fine in the weaving sheds and most of the houses. They’ve all got waterCool roofs. D’you know what they are?”

  “Um, sort of flat water tanks all over the roof. The water runs through them and heats up in the sun, keeping the heat from the buildings, and flows on into hot water tanks, right?”

  “That’s right. Seems to work really well, and you never have to heat water any other way.”

  “They have this service – bit like earlier – every morning at eight,” chimed in Harriet. “Then when that finishes at eight thirty, it’s breakfast.”

  “Oh, that’s the same as here,” I remarked.

  “Then at nine we go to the sheds to work,” Caroline took over. “We get half an hour with tea and biscuits in the morning and afternoon, and an hour off for lunch. Then we finish at five. And there’s two days off together each week, called the ‘weekend’.”

  “Everyone’s off work together,” said Harriet. “Much better than random days off.”

  “Everyone used to have a weekend, y’know,” I said, slightly sadly. “The EuroGov did away with it because they didn’t want to admit Sunday is special.”

  “In Kanju we have a special long service and a special dinner on Sunday,” said Harriet.

  “Yes, it’s special, y’see.”

  Couldn’t help picturing me and Bane, in Kanju with the three of them. A similar routine to here, but... safe. No question of the EuroGov rocking up... the terror of Full Conscious Dismantlement just a memory...

  We could say, ‘sorry, but we should be thinking about starting a family, not trying to get ourselves killed, so we’re going now’. No one would stop us. We’d both agreed – reluctantly – that it would be utterly irresponsible for us to try for a child in our current circumstances – one loose tongue away from a gurney and any child of ours being thrown into a EuroGov orphanage – or taken straight to a Facility.

  But in Kanju... everything would be different. An unexpected ache of longing gripped my insides.

  “We’re enjoying your blog, y’know, Margo,” Caroline said. “They always put the PrintArounds in the dining hall.”

  “Caroline reads it to us every day,” said Harriet.

  “Blog, good,” nodded Sarah.

  I could still write the blog from Kanju. Did we really need to stay here?

  “The security guy said your blog has turned the bloc into a keg of gunpowder,” said Caroline rather proudly. “Says soon all it will need is one spark and Kaboom.”

  “Kaboom!” said Sarah.

  “I think you’re both so brave. I could never sit here and write that stuff, knowing...” Harriet pulled a face and shuddered.

  My heart dropped into my stomach. Ah yes. That was why we were here. Because words written from safety had a fraction of the impact of words written by someone who refused to run away. Who was I fooling? I had to stay.

  Bane stared at me from the bed, his expression sombre and sympathy in his eyes. Reading my thoughts as they marched across my face?

  Caroline checked her watch. “Ooh, it’s an hour until the party. Do you think any of those gorgeous guards will dance with us, Margo?”

  “I’m sure they will. But if you’re planning to fall madly in love with one, just bear in mind they can’t marry until they’ve completed their first three years of service and earned promotion and they won’t be interested in anything else.”

  “Why can’t they marry?” asked Harriet.

  “They’re required to make an absolute commitment while they learn what they’re doing. No distractions. If they sign up for further service, once they move up a rung they’re free to marry.” No married guards on the island, though, and no prizes for guessing why. The cold breath of the EuroGov brushed across the back of my neck again...

 
; “I wish we could stay longer,” sighed Harriet.

  But Caroline frowned. “Really?”

  Feeling that cold breath too? Harriet looked blank for a moment, then frowned too.

  “Well... Perhaps not.”

  They were going in a matter of hours. What gift did I have for them, and for the others? My eyes quartered the room. Wardrobe. Containing clothes, and not many of them. Only what I needed and nothing they’d want. Bedside table. A hairbrush and several other devastatingly practical items. An old paperback, starting to gather dust – from the library, not even mine. I had nothing else. Just the plant on the dresser near the window. Didn’t really want to part with that. My first ever successful foray into gardening...

  I really hadn’t missed my possessions at all. But... it would’ve been nice to be able to give them something. Wait a minute... Just one other thing that actually belonged to me.

  “I’ve got a little gift for you three, actually, and Jane and Rebecca and everyone.”

  I opened the drawer where I’d thrown the handkerchief full of seeds. Took it out carefully and unfolded it atop the dresser. They crowded around, peering at the tiny brown things.

  “What is, Margy?” asked Sarah.

  “Are they seeds?” asked Caroline.

  “Yes. Fuschia seeds. They’ll grow into a nice purple flowery plant like that,” I indicated the growing specimen. No one else had got very close to Major Everington’s garden, so there was no danger it would give anyone nightmares. I peered at the little heap. There really weren’t many left. They’d have to take them all.

  “I suggest you plant the lot, with the advice of someone who knows about plants, and then split them up once they’re a bit older. It’s one for each of you three, one each for Jane and Rebecca, then any extras you can put in the communal areas for everyone, how’s that?”

  Sarah clapped her hands in delight, looking admiringly at the young plant in its pot, and Caroline and Harriet looked pleased enough. I’d literally nothing else, anyway.

  Gathering up the corners of the handkerchief, I tied a leftover piece of blue ribbon securely around it, then entrusted it to Sarah. Bane was still watching. He didn’t have anything to give away either – but what was his was now mine and what was mine was now his...

  “They’re from Bane too, of course.”

  Bane pulled a slight face. Because of the original source of the seeds, no doubt, but fortunately no one else noticed.

  “Margy come back Kanju?” asked Sarah hopefully.

  I looked away from her eager face, giving Angel Margaret a moment to rugby tackle the demon of temptation menacing me.

  “Sorry, Sarah. Margy has to stay here.”

  Bane and I slipped away from the party at nine and drove down to the harbour with Caroline, Harriet and Sarah, though Eduardo insisted I stayed out of sight in the vehicle when we got there.

  “I’ll see you soon, Sarah, I’ll see you soon, don’t cry,” I whispered, as she leant into the jeep to hug me.

  From the way she looked at me, even she could tell this was a bit of a fib. The last time I’d told her that, I’d not seen her for six months, had I? No real hope this time would be any different.

  Eduardo finally pried them gently – but firmly – off me and walked them to the speedboat.

  “Have you got everything?” I called after them.

  They held up their bouquets and the bags full of wedding cake for the others in Kanju, and Sarah called tearfully, “Sarah got seeds,” and then they were climbing on board. Bane waved from the end of the dock as the boat pulled away, and I waved from the jeep, though they wouldn’t be able to see me in the dark. After a while a speck appeared briefly on the moonlit horizon, then it was gone.

  Bane did his best to cuddle my gloom away as we drove back to the Citadel – and largely succeeded.

  “It’s ten.” Faint sounds of music still came from the Old Chapterhouse as I slid out of the jeep after Bane. “How about we... er... slip off now?”

  A grin spread across Bane’s face.

  “Sounds good to me. Um, you going back to the party, Eduardo?”

  “No, I’m off to check the watch, then the news. And so on.”

  “Oh. Well, I’m sure they’ll figure out where we’ve gone!”

  “Thanks for bringing them over here, Eduardo, it was really nice of you,” I said.

  Eduardo shrugged this off and headed for the wall, so we went into the building, creeping past the canteen door and scampering up the stairs like we were cutting lessons. Our new room was on the second floor – kind of hurt that Jon was being left a floor below. The Siamese Triplet thing hadn’t completely worn off yet.

  Bane pushed the door open, then stuck an arm in front of me to stop me entering.

  “Ah-ah. You can slap me for being macho and sexist, but I want to do it...” and he scooped me up in his arms.

  “Careful of your back...” But he stepped over the threshold, apparently unphased by my weight, and I couldn’t help a giggle, half nervous anticipation, half charmed by the – admittedly dubious if you looked into it too hard – tradition.

  He walked to the bed, pushing the door shut with his heel, and set me carefully down on the edge. Then stood there, staring down at me, breathing a little hard – and not from carrying me.

  “Get ready for bed straight away?” My mouth was dry.

  “How much getting ready do you have in mind?” His voice was very low.

  “Brush teeth. Curtains...” I pointed. His expression was making me lose the ability to form full sentences.

  “Let’s get to it...” Crossing the room in three strides, he swished the curtains closed, then disappeared into the en-suite – the only one in the building; as the sole married couple, we were highly honoured. Leaping off the bed, I turned on the bedside lamp, switched off the main light, then followed him.

  In the bathroom waited a set of – new! – towels with an entwined B and M embroidered on them, wedding gifts! And a beautiful nightdress for me and a pair of light cotton pyjamas for Bane. Everyone must’ve got together to buy them.

  My teeth also brushed, I noticed Bane eyeing the gifts with a slightly anxious air.

  “Why don’t we try those out tomorrow? I’ve no objection to you undoing all these fiddly buttons for me...”

  He grinned, drew me gently into his arms and kissed me. And I kissed him back. Really, really kissed him, holding back nothing, because he was my husband and it was okay, more than okay, good and right and pure... When we finally drew apart Bane’s breathing was ragged and his voice shook.

  “Whoa. Liking marriage already!”

  I stretched up to kiss him again and the kiss lasted all the way across the bedroom until we landed in a heap on the bed. Bane set to work rather frantically with all the buttons as I untucked his shirt and slipped my hands underneath...

  A knock at the door.

  Bane froze. Did I look as astonished as he did?

  Another knock.

  “Go away!” shouted Bane. Yes, I seconded that.

  “It’s Jon.”

  “It’s got to be bad luck for the groom to kill the best man on the wedding day, so clear off, quick!”

  “I’m sorry...” said Jon, “I’m really sorry, but I think you’re going to want to know about this...”

  “I don’t think there’s anything on earth we want to know about right now that’s not in the Song of Songs!” snapped Bane at the door.

  “Bane... Margo?” Jon sounded grim. “It’s Juwan and Doms.”

  ***+***

  23

  COME BACK

  My stomach turned over. I stared up at Bane and Bane stared down at me – I wanted nothing more than for Jon to go away and leave us to the eagerly awaited consummation of our union. But going away wouldn’t unsay his words.

  “We’re coming,” snarled Bane, after a long, pregnant pause. Climbing off the bed, he shoved his shirt back into his trousers as I hurried to fasten my buttons again. Once I was dece
nt he yanked the door open. Jon stood in the corridor, looking extremely apologetic.

  “Don’t hit the messenger.”

  “Well, this had better be good,” said Bane.

  “They’re executing them tomorrow morning, good enough for you?”

  The annoyance left Bane’s face just like that.

  “What? They haven’t even tried them yet!”

  “Turns out they have. Open Access Closed Session trial. Which means a secret trial but anyone can request the recordings afterwards. In other words they’re confident no one will find fault with the trial – but wanted to blind side us.”

  “Hell! ” Bane kicked the wall. “I’ve had a rescue in the back of my mind for... for weeks... but I thought we’d have time...” He dropped his voice, “And bloody Maj... Our Mysterious Benefactor didn’t see fit to send us info on Detention Facilities, did he?”

  “He couldn’t send what he didn’t have,” I said absently, my mouth dry as I thought about a raid on a Detention Facility. Incomplete information, different security, and even more than that...

  “This is a trap, isn’t it?’

  “Stinks like one,” said Jon grimly, as we headed off along the passage.

  Sister Krayj waited in Eduardo’s office, along with Kyle and Alligator. Eduardo was circling the room with his bug sweeper.

  “Eduardo, how much information do you have on security at Detention Facilities?” demanded Bane, the moment Eduardo returned the device to his pocket.

  “More than on standard ones. But not much.”

  In rural areas Underground prisoners – all prisoners, in fact – would be held in police cells until trial and only driven to the local Facility on the day of execution, but cities and more populous areas had specialised Detention Facilities. Rescues – even attempted rescues – were extremely rare, even with Resistance prisoners.

  “Hang on, back up...” I’d a horrible sinking feeling. “Jon said they’re going to be executed in the morning. Surely we can’t even get to Reims by then?”