experiment – Page 26 – three good words

November 17, 2014May 16, 2020

reconstruction, 2

Ji’an rushed down the glass halls of the VEN Centre [1] and was just in time to catch one of the Commuters into the Main City. Leaning back into one of the comfortable white armchairs, she tried not to fidget. She was late. And she hated being late, especially to these appointments. The Commuter glided through the transparent transport tubes in silence, the City rushing by, glass and lights flashing through the glass ceiling. A caterer offered her a cup of arica, which Ji’an took gladly.

The Commuter was fairly full, most of the men and women Ji’an saw were from the VEN Centre, their crisp black suits and skirts always stuck out. Crossing her legs, Ji’an suppressed the urge to remove her shoes. At the end of a long day, the heels started to get uncomfortable, but as a member of a VBA, [2] she couldn’t afford indecencies in public, not even the slightest. During her training she hadn’t cared, ignoring the surprised looks, but now she had to keep form. She crossed her legs instead.

Ji’an drank from her arica and sighed. Other Commuters flashed by, men and women in black suits and skirts entered and left at the blue-lit stations. It was half an hour from the VEN Centre to the Main City, half an hour Ji’an took to lay down the busyness of the day. The Commuter finally stopped smoothly at Cartin Place, the cabin was almost empty now, only a small group of trainees sat in the back talking in low voices.

Rushing through the blue-lit station, Ji’an checked her timer. Five past already! She hurried to the glass elevators and watched the city grow smaller as she rose in a swish to the seventh floor of the building. It was already twenty seven floors above the ever-busy JDCs.[3] Up in Cartin Place, the air was peaceful. The sun was setting and bathed the entire City in warm light. They said there had been many parks before the Reconstruction, large patches of communal greens far larger than any House Garden. Ji’an couldn’t imagine it. To her the City was always glass and silver, flashing with windows.

The elevator came to a silent stop and the doors opened to a small foyer. A stylized crane graced the marble floor in shining black and gold tiles. It was spread out in front of the milk-glass sliding doors that opened the moment Ji’an walked across the polished floor. The entrance had its usual luxurious simplicity, whites and greys accentuated with the bright colours of flowers from the Low Don in enormous vases. The usual faint smell of incense lay in the air, and the young woman at the check-in desk nodded when Ji’an walked up to her.

‘Hello Sila,’ Ji’an said.
‘Ms Taiyge,’ Sila nodded, scanning through her monitoring screen with a flick of her hand.
‘I have an appointment. I know I’m late.’
‘She’s already waiting,’ Sila said, taking the card Ji’an handed her. ‘Will you be staying?’
‘Only the usual,’ Ji’an answered. Sila nodded and slid the card into the respective slot.

Ji’an thanked Sila as she handed her her jacket and her new Lexen, a perfect piece of yula leather. They would be kept in one of the private lockers until she returned. Turning, Ji’an checked herself in the mirrored wall, all was well. She walked to the office on the far side of the left corridor. There were vases of flowers in intervals, and the soft hum of faraway music. Ji’an stood out in her all-black outfit, her glossy heels clicking loudly on the marble, reminding her of the VEN Centre and all the business there. The milk-glass doors to the office opened noiselessly and Ji’an stepped in to the white space.

‘My apologies, Mistress Koun,’ she said immediately. ‘I had a meeting I couldn’t get out of. I’m not too late, I hope?’
‘No,’ was the calm reply.

Mistress Koun, dressed in her usual flowing dark robes, stood at her aquarium feeding her rare and poisonous fish, small and flat and very beautiful with delicate gossamer fins. Their watery world was the only colourful thing in the entire office. The windows behind the glass desk overlooked the sparkling City, awash in sunset colours.

‘Have a seat, please,’ Mistress Koun said in her calm voice, returning the fish-food into the long array of milk-glass jars next to the aquarium. None of them were labelled. Ji’an always wanted to ask how the Mistress knew which one to choose.

Mistress Koun walked across the room, looking as if she were gliding over the white carpet to the opposite side of the wide glass desk. She was tall and thin, and her face reminded Ji’an of the mysterious dark birds that sometimes flew around the VEN Centre. There was something almost too serene about the Mistress, even as she sat down in her spacious armchair and fixed Ji’an with her calm, grey eyes. They said Mistress Koun was from one of the Haldan Moons, but who knew. She was striking, that was certain.

‘I tried to get out as soon as I could, Mistress Koun, but the meeting was rather important,’ Ji’an tried to explain, but the Mistress waved her hand as if it didn’t matter why she was late. She was late, that was a fact that could not be changed. Ji’an fell silent and tried to look as calm in her seat as the Mistress.

‘Well,’ Mistress Koun said, and tapped the desk’s surface. The hologram screen appeared, showing the lists both to Ji’an and the Mistress.

‘Since your request was a little unexpected,’ the Mistress said, scanning through the names, faces flickering past the screen in flashes, ‘choices were limited.’ space 3

Ji’an nodded, she had expected this. It made the fact that she was late a little worse. She hated being late to these appointments. Mistress Koun had a way of ignoring Ji’an’s discomfort that made it all the more clear that she didn’t approve of the delay.

‘Yes, I know,’ Ji’an said. ‘I received the invitation only yesterday. Someone else should have gone but then – anyway, I was told only yesterday.’

‘That is why I would advise you to keep a permanent residence, Ms Taiyge,’ Mistress Koun said, eyeing Ji’an through the hologram screen.

Ji’an dropped her gaze. She couldn’t admit that she couldn’t afford permanent residence yet. She had just been promoted. It was not appropriate to make such expenses now, but it would have taken too long to explain that.

‘Well, fortunately, I did find something suitable,’ Mistress Koun said.

Ji’an smiled with relief. Mistress Koun was famed for never letting her clients down, even if they weren’t one of the illustrious patrons of the House.

‘You’re 4.5, am I right?’ Mistress Koun asked.
‘Yes.’
‘No specifications?’
‘Not too young please.’

Mistress Koun raised a graceful eyebrow but nodded.

‘Well then, I have just the right one for you. Come with me.’

The older woman tapped the glass table’s surface and the hologram disappeared. She rose in a soft rustle of expensive cloth, Ji’an got to her feet and followed her. The milk-glass doors glided open to the Main House a moment later. The smell of incense was stronger here, and her tread was mute on the thick white carpet, despite her heels. They walked across the Garden Path, crossing the spacious House Garden in a high arch of glass. As always, Ji’an would have liked to stop and look down, but that was not done. There were House Rules and it was a given that one didn’t break them.

They reached the end of the Garden Path that opened to small foyer. The second milk-glass doors slid open, and Ji’an could already hear the murmur of the residents in the main rooms, distant and deep like quiet nights at the coast. It was every Citizen’s dream to once cross the forbidden threshold and see how it really was behind those doors, but the djan, the House Guards, only let the majar and Mistress through. The djan stood motionless on either side, their hands clasped behind their back, their long white robes and expressionless faces showing they would tolerate no disobedience. It was said that they would kill if it was necessary, and that no Magistrate would put them under the law for it. Ji’an always felt that terminating an intruder’s life was going a bit far, but then again this way privacy was guaranteed.

They had hardly reached the open hall when a tall, well-built man of at least forty approached them, dressed in simple white robes and the characteristic red belt of the majar. There was a short exchange between him and the Mistress. Then the majar nodded and walked past the House Guards into the depths of the forbidden premises. Ji’an followed Mistress Koun into one of the chambers.

It was like all others, a spotlessly clean, white room, with a high ceiling and broad windows overlooking the Main City. The gliders flew along the skyways crisscrossing the darkening sky and the Commuters raced like caterpillars of light through the tubes. Inside the room, there were the usual recliners. Round, wide and made of a soft material she never could name, they reached a little higher than Ji’an’s knees. Two people fit easily on them and there was one on each side of the room.

The sun was setting in bright colours, the first reds and oranges were already turning the white room into hues of rose and pink. The Mistress nodded ‘Ms Taiyge’ and left, the sliding door closing quietly. Ji’an stepped to the wide windows and watched the gliders and Commuters as the sun set. The City was a maze of skylines and skyways reaching far into the darkening blue, showing its overwhelming scale. It was the largest civic settlement this side of the Low Don and was still expanding. One day it would fill out the whole Shelf and maybe reach down to the Valleys.

Not long after the Mistress glided out of the room, there was the three-knock signal at the door, but Ji’an didn’t turn. She heard the door slide open and knew without seeing that the majar came in followed by one of the residents. There was another silky slide of doors, which meant that the majar had left the room. Ji’an was still at the broad windows overlooking the City with its glass towers and domes. It was said that ten million people lived in its expanse, and seeing all the windows glitter in the setting sun, gliders passing up high, Commuters halting and racing on, Ji’an believed it. She had always wanted to see the entirety of the City, maybe even go into those parts that were considered dangerous, apparently full of relics of that dark time before the Reconstruction. There was talk of ghosts and strange creatures that lived and fed in those dark spaces. Ji’an had seen some holographs of what was said to live down there, some were disgusting. Well, maybe one day she’d book a day-pass and take a guide down, but it would be a while until she could afford to ask for such freedoms.

Ji’an turned right then, the resident stood in the middle of the room, waiting. He was about her age, which was a relief, she never liked the young ones, she always felt inadequately responsible for them. He had the usual black ger on, loose Low Don cotton that reached to his knees, showing off well-shaped calves. His build was perfect, but that was to be expected, Mistress Koun only took the best. His hair was very dark, which was a surprise. Usually Mistress Koun gave her fair-haired ones. Then again, she had sent the request rather late. Ji’an stepped away from the window. She didn’t have all day after all, and the House’s fees were high.

* * *

[1] Vidan Eldin Noli Centre, named after Vidan Eldin Noli, one of the first to open up the trade routes after the Reconstruction
[2] Van Benem Associates, one of the various Providers, i.e. trading conglomerates in the VEN Centre
[3] Joint Development Centres, one of the many places of commerce and leisure in the Main City

November 16, 2014May 16, 2020

reconstruction, 1

I started this as a Merci-For-Reading to all you lovely people. Then I looked out of the window. Behold, a November day in all its grey glory. Which brought me to this dark little piece. So here it is, for you, my dearest wordlovers, and your likes, re-posts and comments that I truly cherish. Oh, and in case you’re wondering: Yes, the Philae on the Comet might have a little bit to do with this particular genre twist… Enjoy :) j.d.

They said they were like bright lights. It looked beautiful, like slow fireworks at daylight, falling from the sky. Then the first alarms went off, but by the time anyone knew what had happened it was too late.

Afterwards they said someone had tampered with the force fields and sent an asteroid belt the wrong way. They could just stop the whole thing from coming down, but a few escaped. Those were the bright lights in the sky, like comets you could touch.

A whole mountain range disappeared, it had one of the highest peaks known. From one second to the next it was gone. Whole coastlines and cities were no more. The oceans rose, and more land was swallowed. Many were able to escape to the moon bases, but many others weren’t so fortunate.

Then came the rains and snows, hail storms that would last for weeks. Volcanoes erupted and new land rose, but it was too young. The rains never stopped long enough and the famine lasted for years. The War made it worse. You could see the bombs in the sky, the clouds of fighters shooting each other down. Finally, the weather started to change and more land could be tilled again. People started coming back. That’s when the Reconstruction began.

* * *

Records of Reconstruction

Urbana Regulatio Historia
Section XIV § 27

Consortia in Residencia

1.1

Residents are of either persuasion. According to Section III URH, their form and permanence must be in strict accordance to Federation Regulation 24-10 of Humanoid Development.

1.2

Residents are not Citizens. According to Section IV URH, they must not be recruited from the body of Citizens. The ordination must remain highly controlled, following Federation Regulation 36-17: 1.1 to 1.27. Freedom of movement and of person, according to Section V URH, may be allowed in 1) a House Domain and in 2) a Citizen’s Private Quarters (see § 25). Freedom of movement is to be guaranteed in all quarters of the Federation, according to Federation Regulation 5-15.

1.3

A Resident’s duty is to relieve the bodily needs of the respective Citizen. To one Citizen there shall be one resident. In case of a breach of contract according to Section X URH, the consortia in residencia may be legally dissolved.

1.4

The legal Houses of the Federation are the legal guardians of the resident, until the resident acquires a legal consortia in residencia. In case of dissolvement by breach of contract, according to Section X URH, the resident may return to their previous legal guardian.

1.5

A Citizen of any persuasion is to have a permanent resident and a consort. According to Section IX URH, this must be accomplished by their thirtieth year. The respective resident is to be asserted from a House Domain (see § 26).

1.6

It is understood that Citizens and residents be allowed a certain period in time to accustom to each other. This time may not exceed one (1) year. Consorts are to be granted the equal amount of time for adjustment. It is understood that after the maximum of three (3) years a full household is to be established once a consortia in residencia (see § 26) is established.

1.8

Both Consorts are to have permanent residents. Their living quarters must coincide with those of the Consorts. According to Section XII URH; the rights and freedoms of each Consort are not to be infringed by the consortia in residencia.

* * *

The Mistress walked down the lines, lifting her finger every time she wanted to inspect one of them. The latest batch was lined in an avenue, naked and chained of course. They were from the Islands and wilder than the usual ones, so unruly they had to be kept on their knees. Those the Mistress thought worth her while were prodded and often yanked to their feet. At this stage they were still savage, but once sold, it was no longer Gordec’s problem. He was taking a risk with this batch, but someone had tipped him off that the Houses were looking for fresher meat, and where else to find it than on the Islands. It had taken weeks to capture this batch and some of his men were killed, but it was worth it. By the look of it the Mistress was impressed.

He watched the Mistress glide down the aisle, followed closely by her secretary, holding onto a ledger and scribbling down whatever the Mistress said in that mysterious language of theirs. The Mistress was impressive in her flowing dark robes. She was not pretty, at least Gordec wouldn’t bed her for any price, too thin, too old, too much of the City on her. He liked them simple, with enough meat on their ribs to hold onto when it got rough, the kind you got down in the docklands, where there were no House Rules to stop you. Just thinking about it made Gordec lick his lips. He had one particular one he went to, a filthy thing that cost him a pretty penny, but Gordec didn’t mind, he got his money’s worth out of her each time.

He would have to wait though until he could pay her another visit, he first had to make sure this deal went through. Never mind her elegance, this particular Mistress was business, and by the look of it she was really pleased with his fare and not just looking it. She raised her finger again, and Gordec prodded, but the kral wouldn’t move. He prodded harder and the kral still stayed on its knees, never mind the sparks the electric made. They were tough these Island kral, tougher than the mainland ones, maybe the reason why the better Houses were looking for them. The clients probably needed some variation.

Finally Gordec had to make the sign. His guards came and dragged the kral to its feet. One thing had to be said about kral, they had perfect proportions. Rumours had it they had made a pact with demons to make them perfect, but who knew. This one here was the strong type and even tried to fight but the Mistress was quick. In a flash she had a hand around the kral’s member, an impressive thing even when limp and the kral went still. Gordec had to grin, this particular Mistress always surprised him. The Mistress weighed the kral’s strength in her pale hands, nodding her head. By the look of it, the kral was ready to kill her if it ever got the chance, but with the Mistress’ holding its worth, even this one wouldn’t budge.

‘He’s perfect,’ the Mistress said, ‘I’ll take him as a well.’

She said something more to her secretary that Gordec didn’t catch and then let the kral go. It was the Mistress’ luck that the men were still there. In a flash, the kral moved to attack her, nearly knocking the guard’s over, but the men reacted quickly. In seconds the kral was on the floor and silent.

‘Are you really sure about that one?’ Gordec asked the Mistress. She nodded, watching the kral bleeding on the ground.
‘With the right training he’ll be excellent,’ the Mistress said, looking satisfied.
‘It tried to attack you, Mistress.’

Gordec usually didn’t try and persuade his clients from a deal, but he’d seen that look in a kral before and it always meant trouble. Real trouble. He wasn’t sure if the Mistress knew it, these Island kral weren’t like mainland one’s. He tried to explain it but all the Mistress said was ‘I like a little spirit.’ Gordec shrugged, it was none of his business anyway.

She bought a total of five that day, all of them Island kral and she hardly haggled the price. Gordec was to send them to the usual place in the Low Don. It was said that after six weeks there, even the wildest kral followed any Mistress. Gordec always wondered what they did to them there, but it wasn’t for him to ask. He got a perfect price for the five, and finally had that wild one off his hands which was more than he had bargained for that night.

* * *

Needle-point heels, glossy, black. A black pencil skirt, a white blouse, stretched tight over pert breasts, a slim black belt. A slim-fitting black jacket matching the skirt. Her hair held back in a strict bun, a pair of delicate black-rimmed glasses. Full lips, flawless caramel skin, striking dark eyes tapering to a clear curve. This is Ji’an in full regulation uniform, a Citizen.

As long as Ji’an could remember, life in the City was structured to keep the Peace. The rules and laws minutely regulated daily life, making Commuters absolutely punctual, and there was a precise amount of hours that you were allowed to stay in the offices. If you exceeded these, the doors locked to your ID and you could no longer return to your workstation. The Federation was rigorous in keeping its Citizens healthy, rested and at peace, for which Ji’an was grateful. She could not think of living any way else.

Like all other Citizens, Ji’an was raised away from her biological parents in a Home Circle. Long before the Reconstruction began, the Sages understood that blood ties were destructive to the overall peace of the society due to their strict confinement. It was no surprise then, that once the Reconstruction began, ‘families’ as they were known in those dark times were freed into Home Circles.

One day she, Ji’an Taiyge, woud fulfill the Duty too, for each Citizen had the duty of ten years to supervise a Home Circle with ten, maximum twelve children, though six were the norm. The children, who were never biologically related unless they were twins, were raised together as siblings, each equal to the other. They all knew their biological parents, of course they did, only the criminally insane were disallowed contact. Everyone knew their birth mother and birth father, the records were always updated and easily accessible, but there was little contact. There was no need really, the Home Circle was what was important. It was, Ji’an had observed, simply nice to know.

Now at twenty-five, Ji’an knew her place. She and the rest of her Home Circle had left the Low Don at the age of ten, and joined the Institute near the High Falls like everyone else. Ji’an still remembered the grand ceremony of Leave Taking. Tula and Maso, their guardians, had cried tears, for now it would only be them again, their ten years of guardianship were over. There had been many hugs and many kisses, everyone was crying, and Ji’an had wondered how it must have been, back in the violent days, when the people you left also shared the blood in your veins. She could only imagine how difficult it must have been if they all already cried when saying goodbye to Tula and Maso, Olen even running back to hug them once more. In that, blood ties must have made Leave Taking torturous. It was right then, what the Sages decided. One should not get too attached, it clouded the mind.

Once at the Institute they learned the Laws of the Federation, and by their twentieth year they were finally of age and ready to actively partake in the necessary endeavours to further the Peace. Each of Ji’an’s Home Circle had chosen their profession according to their skills, all seven of them had talents the Federation needed, Tula and Maso had done well. Now they all played a valuable part in sustaining the peace and prosperity the Federation created after the Reconstruction. It was a stability needed to help those parts still torn and deranged by the darkness of the War, to heal, recuperate and join the Federation’s measures of Peace.

Ji’an had no doubt about this. It was a fact of her life, and she rejoiced in it. She knew of the immense value of the Peace, the food, clean air and water, the simple stability she was able to enjoy after so many, too many decades of disaster. She had seen the Fleet Communications, she had watched the DeNost Journal, and there was always, always the Siege of the Seven Stars and all its horrors… Even now, Ji’an could shudder at the mere thought. So now, of age and firmly in her place, Ji’an Taiyge knew what she was grateful for.

November 14, 2014November 14, 2014

something else

it’s not even waiting
that was never
this

it’s knowing
you’re out there
doing that
and that

and that one thing
you’re really good at

and simply not getting bothered

coz there’s that one thing
that drop in tone
that sudden hold
insistant

that soft
what the fuck
you really want…
oh my fucking God

when things are said
and done
that you wanted
oh yeah
but kind o’ sort o’
never expected

that curve there
turn left, then right
dip and flow
until it’s some serious music
that we’re making
here on this – what?
uh-huh, yeah
I just went there

…

so yeah
you’re out there
doing things that
make me
go ahead
and do that again

right there and there
and there
coz I don’t care
and do care
in a crazy curious way
about what you do
with who and when and where

coz this ain’t love
this is something else
hotter, deeper
yes right there
so good
it’s fucking
…
awesome

coz you want some
a bit too much
a bit too now
a bit too hard

on that part
no one wants to
give up

so yeah
it’s not waiting
it’s knowing
there’s another Q lined up
to that A you just don’t wanna
coz you make me wanna
yeah, I just went there

November 12, 2014November 13, 2014

chemistry

lights, flickering
a look, a smile
surprise

a question, an answer
words spoken, laughter
leaning close, closer
a little closer

so close
molecules mingle to
chemistry

a look, a touch
a question
more words, laughter
less noise, less chatter
talking, teasing,
so close, there’s only
together

a sudden silence
warm against what’s mine
smooth, soft
seven seconds of perfect
really just right

and then the world’s returned
friends talking, people shouting
glasses clinking, bottles smashing
lights glaring, beats blasting
that girl’s getting hammered
this boy’s beyond annoyed
some guy shouting
into a bored girl’s ear
while another drags her boy off home

…but I know it’s just a matter of time
where like dark honey
lying low
deep down
where your voice is sound

we’ll find everything we need to know
slip and slide like liquid
through fingers
into the palm of a long, long
moment

November 7, 2014November 24, 2014

saving grace, 5

Ariane found Father Claireborne seated in the kitchen with a glass and a pitcher of cool water, dabbing his forehead with a handkerchief. John was right, humid as it was getting now, rain would pour soon, hopefully very soon. All tracks would run cold then. Ariane still felt that would be a good thing. Sitting down across of the Father, she asked all the same.

‘Father?’

‘Yes, Ariane, is something the matter?’ he asked, drinking more water.

‘When I came back from the market with Katie just now, we met Officer Turlington.’

‘Mr. Turlington?’ Mrs. Bellamy asked behind her. ‘What was he doing on the Hunting Trail?’

‘He was with a search party,’ Ariane said, still looking at the Father who now listened with interest. ‘He said that there is a convict on the loose, and that he is dangerous.’

‘And you think he has come here?’ Father Turlington asked, frowning.

‘What?’ Mrs. Bellamy asked, now sitting down next to her daughter. ‘Would such a man dare?’

‘Those who once defy the laws of man rarely find self-restraint when necessitated to break them again.’

‘What do you mean, Father?’ Ariane asked, suddenly feeling she had betrayed more than she wanted. She could already see that feral body hanging from the gallows, grunting and growling until it was still.

‘I have a hard time believing our mischievous neighbours would go so far as to break into this house, especially if they know it so well,’ Father Claireborne said, smiling a little. ‘It made little sense to me, you see, why they should break the window. Theft of pastries and boiled sweets, I can understand, but this now seemed too crafty. If you say there is a criminal on the loose, hounded by Officer Turlington and his men, it could very well be the man found this house peaceful enough to break in and take what nourishment he needed.’

‘Are you certain, Father?’ Mrs. Bellamy asked, now visibly concerned.

‘I am sure he cannot stop at a market-booth for victuals,’ Father answered, drinking from his glass once more.

‘So there could be a dangerous criminal in the house and we do not know it?’ Mrs. Bellamy frowned, now clearly anxious. ‘Ariane, I do not want you to leave this room, no, even leave my side until we know that he is captured.’

‘Ah, Mrs. Bellamy, I would not go that far to detain the young for a sinner’s sake,’ Father Clariborne smiled. ‘I am certain the man has already disappeared, escaped to a safer hiding place where he would not be so soon detected.’

‘But if he’s dangerous, Father,’ Mrs Bellamy said gravely. ‘I would not want my daughter wandering down the Hunting Trail with some fiend escaped from the gallows at her heel.’

‘Mrs. Bellamy, you sound quite gothic,’ Father Claireborne smiled, but it did not last long. ‘It may not be so wrong to notify the Commission, however. We could go together and report as one. They will quite likely return and search the house, and I am sure the moment the convict sees the red jackets, he will run as fast as his life is dear to him.’

In less than fifteen minutes, Father Claireborne, Mrs. Bellamy and Ariane were all three walking towards the officer’s station, the chaplain nodding benevolently at every face he knew and saw. In the station, sand-stoned and cool compared to the humid heat of the empty court before it, the report was made, and a small troop of guards dispatched to search the chaplain’s house, all seven men armed with pistols and rifles and looking very grim.

Ariane said nothing and watched, feeling she had signed the death sentence for the man-thing. It had not looked dangerous. Ferocious yes, and very obviously starved, but not something one would hang by a rope and wait till it twitched and turned to death. And yet she had to wait until the inspection was done, furthered by Officer Turlington, who by some form of communication had found out that Father Claireborne’s house was to be searched, and thus came with his dangerous dogs and rifled men. Officer Turlington had them search the house again, from the rafters to the cellars, but nothing was found, though the dogs barked as if they had seen the very devil.

An hour had passed by the time Officer Turlington emerged from the house. Half the neighbourhood had come to see, but it was all for naught. Officer Turlington looked furious, as if not finding this man was a personal insult, though he was civil to Father Claireborne as always.

‘And who is this man?’ the Father asked after Officer Turlington had given his negative report.

‘Someone we have been wanting to capture for some time. Finally, by the help of a deserter, we could secure him, but alas –’ Officer Turlington pressed his lips together and tried not to get redder than he already was.

‘A deserter you say? Is the man a soldier?’

‘Pah!’ the Officer barked bitterly. ‘He’s as much a soldier as a devil is a saint, Father.’

‘What is he then?’

‘A pirate, sir, and one of the worst these waters have seen for the past twenty years.’

‘A pirate?’ Mrs. Bellamy frowned. ‘Why not say a murderer and be done with it?’

‘That is the point, Mrs. Bellamy,’ Officer Turlington said grimly, ‘as far as we know, the man has never murdered with his own hand, but his men have done much destruction in the same vein. We cannot stop them from scavenging and torching ships, but since we captured him, all these devilish enterprises have stopped at sea. It is heavenly quiet, but God forbid the man be joined with his men. Then the cobra’s head would be rejoined with the body, and the snake will bite again, slithering out of sight after poisoning half the country!’

Officer Turlington looked ready to burst with rage. Father Claireborne layed a quiet hand on his shoulder and asked him to join him in the house for some fresh cider. Father Claireborne could not affront Mrs. Bellamy with ale yet, she did not approve of drinking alcohol before sundown if it had to be drunk at all. Officer Turlington agreed and the two men proceeded, closely followed by Mrs. Bellamy and Ariane, who did not like to stay in the small court, surrounded by all those wild-looking men of the search party. Some were giving her looks she didn’t like, and so was glad to know herself on the other side of the closed house door.

Not long after, Tenny walked into the kitchen asking if it was all right now to hang the linens, there was still a good deal of sun before the weather broke. Ariane was sent out to help the washing woman, which she did in silence, listening to Tenny talk about what it meant to have a criminal in these parts, and how dangerous such men were, and now it was said it was a pirate, scavenging fiends that would burn in hell for all eternity, murderers and oath-breakers in whose presence no living soul was safe.

Ariane listened and helped spread the white sheets across the lines, thinking of how the man-thing had eaten out of her hand like a starved animal. She tried to think how that could command men to an extent that made Officer Turlington look as if he would explode. She could not see it. He was still hardly human to her, more a thing and beast than anything with reason, even though he stood upright and had the build of a grown man. He maybe had the look and the limbs, but definitely not the smell nor the articulation, she had never seen anything so dirty.

With Mrs. Bellamy’s Christian ways of cleanliness and the fact that Father Claireborne adhered to them without question, Ariane had no patience with dirt either, and could not tolerate anything that would smudge her dress or linens, which made her monthly indisposition quite a trial where a catastrophe always seemed close at hand. That she should think of such things now, but with the white sheets, wide as sails before her, billowing in the usual sea-breeze coming up from the near coast, she could only think of those bright red stains she abhorred, as they betrayed not only carelessness, but something about her Ariane could as yet not fully accept, though it was a part of her these six years. She did not know why it happened, and saw it as due punishment after the Fall, for it was Eve who ate the first fruit and thus her descendants would be constantly reminded of her trespassing, for why else would God allow such a thing to take place at such pagan times, always when the moon waxed and her mood plummeted… no, she should rather think of something else.

Right then Ariane’s eyes fell on her own dress, where she saw those stains made by the tomato juice that had spilled and sprayed onto the white skirts, which she had tried her best to clean out, but it would not do without some soap and she would not change again, her mother never liked that. They were mere shadows now, and only visible to the eye who knew they were there, but she knew, and so saw them clearly. They were further reminders of what was out there, running away from Officer Turlington and his search party with their rifles and horrible dogs. How long would he survive? She could not imagine that so many men would not finally succeed in finding one who had to ambush innocent girls for tomatoes.

Well, she would see. Officer Turlington would hardly curtail his triumph once the man, if he was one, was recaptured. And then he would be hanged at the gallows, the dead body swaying in the ocean breeze. Ariane picked up the next linen and spread it across the line, hardly hearing what else Tenny was saying. Looking at the pure white of the cloth, she thought of those faded eyes that seemed to have no colour and wondered for a moment if the man-thing was maybe blind. But for something blind he moved very fast, and she did not think blind eyes could issue commands to be silent. It was a command, there was nothing pleading, nothing soft in that first look, his dirty finger pressed against grimy lips. How dirty he was, the complete opposite to this dream of white. Ariane traced a hand across the white plane, her hand and arm starkly dark against it, every finger clearly seen. He did not curl from her hand as sometimes happened on market days, he did not hesitate to touch, but feral as he was, he probably hardly saw her, just grabbed what held the food he wanted and ate as an animal for he was hungry like one.

Stepping away, Ariane picked up the next linen and continued her work, trying her best to listen to Tenny, but hardly finding patience for what the washing woman was saying, it was all about terrible deeds, murderous pirates, and other horrors Ariane didn’t want to think of. She looked to the sky, saw the silver in the white clouds tumbling to mountains above, and thought of the few hours that were left before the heavens opened and let out all the rain. With the sun so hot, and the air so sticky, the sheets would have dried to an untainted white until then. Everyone would rush inside once the rain poured, everyone except the man-thing running away from Officer Turlington and his awful men and dogs. Hopefully, when the rain finally fell, it would not only sweep away the tracks, but cover the feral creature and wash away all its dirt as well.