by Claire Vale
The outer pockets were empty. My gaze flitted to the doorway, then to my wristwatch. I still had a solid fifteen minutes. No reason Roman would choose today to cut his run short. I unzipped the main compartment and delved inside, placing items on the floor as my fingers stumbled across them.
An iComm, which might contain interesting recorded messages but my father had one and they were all voice activated for security. I wouldn’t be able to turn it on, let alone access any information.
A couple of protein bars. If they were anything like the ones they sold at the Grocer, they’d taste like unseasoned cardboard.
A slim black day-planner, the miniature kind with a full week on each page and only two lines per day. The entries were far and wide between, just names and times, what appeared to be reminders for meetings. All work related, except for an entry that read, J&D Fishing. My mind played that over a couple of times, but only one thing made any sense. A fishing trip with Julian and Daniel. Not work related…then again, maybe it sort of was. Roman had ambitions, and ambitious men probably didn’t make power-friends without secondary motivations.
I flipped further back, remembering Roman had to go into work on our wedding day. What was so important? Did it relate to Jenna’s removal from Society?
There was indeed an entry on that date. Sector Five. 11am.
What on earth was Sector Five? There were the three zones in Capra. And outside the wall, there was The Smoke. The farms. The mines. The Outerlands, that was supposedly just dead space stretching into the rest of the dead world.
I’d never heard of any region or area labelled as a sector. Sector Five had to be outside the wall. A warden facility?
My breath hitched. Was that where Jenna had been taken? Sector Five? Being removed from society meant going outside the wall and only wardens could do that. Roman was a warden. He’d gone to Sector Five the day after graduation, the morning after Jenna had failed to graduate. It made sense.
I flipped forward through the pages and saw one other reference to Sector Five, 11am, about two weeks ago. On a hunch, I kept flipping into the future and found the next scheduled meeting—Tuesday, a week from now.
Repeating the date to cement it in my memory, I stuffed Roman’s things back into the bag and zipped it. I wasn’t sure what I’d do with the information, but I needed to find out more about this Sector Five.
The desk had three drawers down the right hand side. The top drawer held a couple of pens and…I pulled out a small, flat, black square and turned it around in my hand. A tiny lens was embedded on the other side. On the narrow edge, a slightly raised button. A camera of some sort? Too small to be entirely practical, and where was the viewer? I held it up and pressed the button. No flash, but a definite click. Huh. No port to transfer the pictures, but I guessed it could be iNet technology that transferred data without a hard connection.
Considering Roman’s reading material, maybe he was a keen wildlife photographer. How far were wardens allowed to roam beyond the wall? Maybe as far as they wished. And there’d still be plenty of wildlife out there. More so than when humans ruled their world. The plague had never transmuted to the animal kingdom.
What I wouldn’t give to see some of the photos he might have taken beyond the wall. But since I didn’t have access to any iNet gadgets that could connect, I returned the suspected camera to the drawer. For now. And meanwhile, there was the urgent business of the mysterious Sector Five.
The other two drawers were unused.
Pushing to my feet, I glanced at the boxes in the corner, and went over to poke through them. Still empty—and my wristwatch told me I was out of time.
Moving quickly, praying I’d left everything more or less as I’d found it, I made my way from the room, double-checking to ensure the latch locked properly behind me. I slipped outside, feeling like a thief stealing out of my own house, and cut through the woods behind the house. Before long, I came to an overgrown trail and picked my pace up into a jog.
My morning jog was just supposed to be an integral part of my master snoop plan, so I wouldn’t have to face Roman hot off the crime scene. I wasn’t that good an actress. And if he did notice something odd in his study, it would (hopefully) be easier to feign innocence if I hadn’t even been home during the suspected infraction.
But as my feet pounded the sodden trail of fallen leaves and the crisp air filled my lungs, a rush as sweet as sugar raced through my veins. My head cleared and a calmness settled deep inside me. All the insurmountable problems in my life fell away, and I got my first inkling of what sent Roman out every morning come rain or gale winds or sunshine. This might just be the start of a wonderful new habit, and I didn’t even change my mind when the cramp in my side brought me to a grinding halt. The pull in my calf muscles belatedly reminded me of the virtues of warming up and cooling down stretches.
Deciding to walk out the tightness, I continued along the trail. A few minutes later, the trees to my right thinned and I realized I’d been jogging alongside a stream this whole time. The same trickling stream as the one that cut off the bottom of the Edgar’s estate.
I pushed through the trees, marching on the spot to keep my muscles warm and loose as I gazed out over the field beyond. Julian Edgar was an insurmountable problem that wasn’t going away, no matter how many endorphin-induced delusions I entertained.
But maybe it wasn’t a problem I had to deal with today.
Or tomorrow.
What had Rose said? You can’t rush this and we understand that. You wait, and watch, and you only proceed if and when the right opportunity presents itself.
That sounded like good, sage advice. I mean, I still believed in the mission. Restoring the balance of power was the ultimate dream. But we’d been living this way for ages, a little longer couldn’t hurt.
I’d been so stressed before graduation, but as it turned out, things weren’t really that bad. Look at Jessie: she was hopelessly in love with Harry. Look at Brenda: she was positively delirious over her prestigious husband and grand new home. Look at me: I couldn’t seriously complain.
In all honesty, Sector Five was a far more pressing concern than Julian Edgar and his handprint.
And since I was being honest, it wasn’t all about the connection to Jenna—that seemed less and less likely the more I thought about it. But the possibility that Sector Five lay outside the walls called to me for curious, selfish reasons.
I’d asked my mother about the wall once. I’d been around seven or eight-years-old and I’d asked her why we couldn’t go out there. The wall had been built to keep the bad people out and since there were no more people out there, there were no more bad people either. She’d pinched my cheek lightly and smiled and said, When you’re older, you’ll understand.
Well, I’d grown a little older and I had understood. We lived in a restricted society and you couldn’t restrict anything unless you contained it.
Then I’d grown a little more older and I’d understood a little more.
Out there meant isolation and nothingness.
Out there meant growing old with no new generations to surround you.
Out there meant dying alone.
The wall contained us, but in a way the wall also still kept out the bad world.
I had no desire to live outside the wall. That would be crazy. All I wanted, all I’d ever wanted, was to look and see and know. I wasn’t the only one, either. Jessie and I had talked about it endlessly when we were younger, before the impossibility of it all had finally tired our excited conversations.
But Sector Five could be a real opportunity. Sector Five could turn the impossible to possible.
Roman’s truck was gone when I got home. Thank goodness. I’d half expected him to be waiting, ready to pounce on me with wild—or maybe not so wild—accusations.
I went through the motions of getting ready for the day. I showered and dressed, tidied up a bit, but my mind was deeply immersed in all things Sector Five and how I could hitch a ride
to that meeting next week.
I wished I could pick my mother’s brains for a few handy hints and tips, but I was pretty sure I shouldn’t.
In my eighteen years of experience, I’d learnt my parents’ priorities were not always aligned with mine. Mom might just get it into her head that I needed protection, from myself and Roman and consequences, and that usually led to involving my father.
Or worse, what if Mom told the Sisterhood? The first thing they’d do is forbid me from saying anything to anyone. Then they’d take charge and kick me out the loop altogether.
17
Complacency is a deadly sin.
I could only guess that’s what the universe was trying to tell me when it whopped me top, bottom and under for being okay with the status quo of my life. I mean, it wasn’t great, I wasn’t ecstatically happy, but I was okay with it. Roman wasn’t the worst husband in the world. I could pretty much do my own thing, and now I had Sector Five to throw my passion into.
By the end of the day, my smug complacency had unraveled into a messy heap of reality.
It all started with our ladies tea in the Bohemian Quarter. Jessie had seen Carolyn in town a few days ago and said she’d seemed withdrawn. I’d thought (aloud) that Roulin Square could cheer anyone up. Brenda had set the date and issued the invites and insisted she’d collect us in the chauffeured car at her disposal. I preferred to cycle everywhere, but since this was about Carolyn and not me, I’d held my tongue and silently agreed to all the plans.
Brenda arrived at three-thirty sharp with a crunch of tires on gravel. Truth be told, I was grateful for the ride after all. The weather had turned overnight, ushering in a thunderous sky and a wintry chill that cut to the bone.
The driver, a handsome young man dressed in a crisp uniform, rushed around to open the rear door for me. “Ma’am.”
“Thanks.” I gave him an awkward smile, unaccustomed to the royal treatment, and clambered inside the stately Sedan. Luxurious leather seats, a privacy window separating us from the front, and a climate control system that blasted me with humid heat.
Brenda peered past me. “Daniel mentioned Roman lived in a log cabin buried in the woods, but I didn’t realize he meant it quite so literally.”
The door closed on her view and I smiled hard. “Hello, Brenda.”
She looked at me. “You know, there are two manor homes available in Parklands. Daniel and I went to take a look, back when we were considering temporary accommodation while we waited to move into our place. I’m sure you’d find either one of them suitable.”
“I’m perfectly happy with the home I have,” I said tartly, and I meant it. Somewhere along the way, the shack in the woods had become my home. It had charm and personality. What wasn’t to like?
To be fair to Brenda, however, I did remember my own first impressions.
The driver performed a set of tight maneuvers to turn us around and I settled in for the ride, loosening the scarf at my throat and undoing the top button of my coat. “This is fancy.”
“It’s actually on loan from Julian.” Brenda tucked a wedge of hair behind her ear. “I prefer our little E-Lite but it would have been a squash. Jackal’s mine, though.”
“Jackal?”
“The driver,” she said. “Well, technically he’s ours, but Daniel prefers to get about on his own steam so Jackal’s entirely at my disposal. Oh!”
Her eyes lit up. She stuck her hand inside her coat pocket and produced an iComm, waving it at me. “Daniel got me one of these, so I can talk to him anytime, call for the car when I need, whatever…it’s so handy. You should totally ask Roman to get you one.”
It wasn’t that simple. iComms were ridiculously expensive and, more importantly, only issued with special permission. Actually, Roman could probably arrange that. But whom would I call on it? Brenda? “I’m sure we couldn’t afford one.”
Brenda didn’t disagree.
After a beat, she picked up with, “You must come up to the house again, soon. It’s really taking shape now although there’s still so much left to do, I’ve been crazy busy choosing color schemes and Daniel agrees with me that all our furnishings should be custom-made…”
My eyes glazed over and I tuned her out, a new habit that did wonders for our friendship. I wasn’t being mean. Brenda’s perfect life of never-ceasing wonderment was just particularly exhausting.
Carolyn was the first stop en-route, a white-coated manor house on a corner plot in Lake’s End. Not what I’d expected. Lake’s End lay east of the town square, and as its name suggested, ended just before the lakeside suburb I’d grown up in began. Carolyn’s husband worked in the Credits Union and while that promised an affluent future, this was all rather grand for a starter home.
Jackal parked and walked up the path to ring the bell. A few minutes later, he was escorting Carolyn back to the car.
I watched her approach like a hawk, looking for the niggling signs that had Jessie worried. Nothing obvious. She seemed in good health, pretty and curvy and sensibly bundled in a full length cream coat. Blond curls flowed out from the bobbly woolen cap pulled low over her head.
I shuffled closer to Brenda to make space as the door pulled open.
“Hi,” Brenda and I greeted in chorus. I went on with, “My goodness, your house is divine. And it’s just up the road from our old neighborhood.”
“I guess, thanks.” Carolyn climbed inside and shot me a fleeting smile. “Simon’s father bought it for us.”
And there it was, nothing you’d notice unless you knew the animated, effervescent Carolyn as well as we did. Her tone was flat, her smile there and gone before it reached her eyes.
We pulled away from the curb and, in the absence of her usual exclamation-punched chatter, I took up the slack. “It’s been ages since we’ve seen each other!”
It had been. When we’d first graduated, Jessie and I had bumped into her in town often. She’d even taken lunch with us now and then. But the last time had been weeks and weeks ago.
Carolyn shot me another weak smile. “I’ve been doing my shop first thing in the mornings. There’s just, you know…” she shrugged. “…so much to get done in each day.”
“Tell me about it,” Brenda drawled, bending around me to give Carolyn a sympathetic look. “I’m determined for Daniel and me to move into our place before Christmas and there’s soo much still to do. It takes more hours than I have in a day, and then there’s Daniel, he gets really sulky if I don’t give him enough of my time.”
Okay, I’m sorry. I had to say something. “Sulky? That doesn’t sound like Daniel.”
“There are more sides to Daniel than the public sees. And I love every single one of them.” Brenda gave me a too-sweet smile. “He is such a romantic. Every Thursday night is date night. Have you seen the new play at Grodgens?”
Carolyn and I shook our heads.
“Glass Stars. It’s hilarious,” Brenda gushed. “And last week we went for dinner and dance at The Circle. The roof is domed and lights up with twinkling stars against a painted sky, it’s like nothing you’ve ever seen.”
“It is rather good,” Carolyn agreed.
“You’ve been to The Circle?” Brenda asked in surprise.
“A couple of times,” Carolyn said without much enthusiasm. “Simon likes the dancing. I like the food.”
Traitor. Was I the only who wasn’t being wooed and danced and wined and dined?
I sank deeper into my seat as my imagination drifted to Roman swirling me around and around beneath a star-studded sky. Those strong arms wrapping me. My cheek pressed to the slab of his chest and the beat of his heart. Maybe I’d tilt my head up, and our eyes would meet, the ice storm there melting to warm silver as his gaze sank into me.
“Oh, you must get Simon to take you to Le Cherie, the food there is amazing,” Brenda shrilled, ripping me out of my own head. “I have to start interviewing for staff soon and I’m seriously considering stealing the head chef from Le Cherie. Daniel says if I really
want…”
My thoughts drowned her out again, not going back to the fantasy but to my very untraditional marriage.
Did I want more?
Maybe.
Did Roman want more?
I honestly wasn’t sure. Every now and then I’d catch his gaze lingering on me and it felt like more, like a missing space inside me that only he could fill, like the air between us held a static charge, like the touch of warmth in his eyes were words he’d yet to speak.
But it was complicated.
Roman was my husband, he had every right to take anything he wanted and I wouldn’t deny him. Yet he hadn’t tried, not even once, to test the waters and see where the current took us.
And I didn’t know enough about love or desire to understand my increasingly heated feelings. Maybe I was just curious. Maybe I was lonely, craving a physical connection to bridge the long, broody silences. Maybe it was hormones, nature reminding me of my duty to society.
And maybe it was real, maybe all this tingling awareness was pure, sexual chemistry that would combust into fireworks on our first true kiss.
Maybe…
Jessie must have been waiting and watching at the window, and was out the door before we’d pulled up alongside the curb. She had to ride up front in the passenger seat, although Jackal did lower the privacy window so we could chat. He needn’t have bothered. It was a ten minute drive to the side street off Roulin Square where Jackal dropped us off and Brenda managed to fill all those minutes with her views on various interview techniques for more staff than any household could surely contain.
Bitter cold gusts nearly hit me off my feet as I scrambled out, a frigid cold that scratched my throat and tickled my nose. Carolyn rushed for the relative shelter of a building that backed onto the street. Brenda was conferring with Jackal.
