Leaving Paradise, page 9
The door opened, slowly and slightly and an unfamiliar deep, angry voice said, ‘lie down on your stomach, with your hands underneath your body. Do it otherwise several men out here will fill you with deadly poison.’
He obeyed and felt terribly vulnerable.
A voice said, ‘God- look what the animal did.’
He felt a boot on his back, which was painful and infuriating simultaneously. He protested, and said, ‘you're hurting me.’
A voice replied, ‘I know.’
He turned to look at what sick person could take pleasure in someone else's pain and saw an object moving swiftly towards his head which he couldn't avoid. It hit him hard on the side of the temple.
He awoke feeling nauseous, hungry, weak, exhausted and with a slight pain on his temple. There was the taste of something sweet in his mouth and he felt sleepy. He realised he'd been given a drug again. His skin touched the floor of the room, which felt cold and bare. His hands were secure at his side. No, that wasn't right! One hand was tied to a belt around his body and he looked frantically at his other hand which was now gone. The whole of his right arm, from below the elbow was missing. In its place there was some white cloth over his remaining limb. There was a container next to him in the room, which he bent over and thought he might vomit into. He tasted only a small amount of vomit which he forced back down. The room which was very small and bare. He was afraid and alone. He knew if he ever got back home, he could have a brand-new arm fitted. Now with his shield and part of his right arm gone there was no way he could fight his way free using the shield.
He thought of all their hopes and dreams, of him as a representative of hundreds of millions of people. And this was the result - to be met with fear, anger, secrecy, confusion, violence and repression. At the mercy of people who wanted nothing from him but his technology. He felt as if the will to fight had been drained from him against such hopeless odds, and that his optimism was naive and foolish. He felt shock at what he did but no one had ever treated him so cruelly before.
Eventually an expressionless Dr. Jozher appeared at the hatch. He paused and said, ‘you've made a big mistake. Killing a person is no trivial matter on our world.’
Zenan spoke calmly, ‘a situation in which a man comes into my cell and proceeds to verbally abuse for no reason, orders me about as though I were a limited machine and then physically assaults me in a brutal manner, while threatening me with more of the same treatment would not be seen as a trivial matter on my world.’ He paused. ‘I was scared, do you know how that feels? I was afraid of being killed by some brutal person. Was I meant to lie there, and let him do whatever he wanted to me?’
‘That 'brutal person' as you say was a senior ranking officer in the security forces of this land. He was highly respected and valued.’
‘That is a very poor reflection on your society.’
Jozher ignored his remark, and replied, ‘I have a man here who would like to hit you numerous times with a piece of wood. Would you like that?’
‘I defended myself against violence. You cut my arm off!?’
‘Everything which happens to you here is a consequence of your actions; it wasn't me who killed, it was you. You must be prepared to pay the price for such murderous behaviour.’
‘What are you going to do now? Cut my other arm off? You are sick.’
‘You have entered our lands illegally, assaulted several important security officials, resisted arrest and committed non-sanctioned life termination. You are no longer in position to give us demands. In this state, the last of the crimes you committed calls for the death penalty. Co-operation is your only solution. The sun will soon set for your life and there will be nothing but darkness. The sooner you realise it, the quicker you can save yourself.’
‘I thought there would be intelligent, rational creatures out there in the universe, but I never imagined this.’
‘We just organise things a little differently around here.’
‘A little differently,’ Zenan sighed. ‘On Alsouartisca-’
Jozher interrupted him and said, ‘well, you're not on your world, now are you? You're here. Stop giving me tedious accounts of how much everything is better on your mythical planet.’
‘It is inevitable I compare your world to mine. It is the only true frame of reference I have.’
‘You'll stay here for a few days. Then we will see what will happen to you, your manner of execution if given will be painless.’ Jozher said.
He hoped threatening him with death was a cruel bluff designed to cheat him into telling them how to access the ship. He imagined them fitting some destructive device and setting it to explode on his world or placing some poison on-board. It might only kill a few people, but he could not bear to imagine the murder of any people from his world nor any harm to come to Idhouri.
He thought of the language translator and wondered how tempted they would be to steal and examine it. If they were then he would surely die or never recover as he doubted they were advanced enough to perform surgery on the brain safely. He was in a constant state of anxiety for days. The only contact Zenan had with anyone in this time was with a stern looking large man who brought his food and took away the container he was forced to use as a toilet. The man held a piece of thick black wood in a menacing manner and ignored his questions.
The following day they gave him a blanket and untied his remaining hand. He carefully took off the bandage. The wound was raw and red and looked ugly, but it was healing.
His mind turned to his killing. He was now one of the very few murderers from his own world. Such a thought did not please him. He had certainly made his mark on this world. He was an Alien, who arrived in secret and was now a killer.
Time had never seemed to pass as slow as it did here, he thought. When he was with Kesh, it was fun, interesting and exciting. Now he was sat in a room, trapped, with no way out, other than the unthinkable - of betraying his world to his captors. From the man's brutality, Zenan still concluded he would rather die here, than distribute his technology to this world. Yudia, Phelio, Dertusic, Teric, Mali, Tely, Ricsas and hundreds of other people he knew and all those he would never meet, for them to be treated in the way he had, by such twisted people as these would be a nightmare.
He let the time pass, by recounting his life and experiences. He sang songs to himself. Even so, time passed too slowly. It was ironic, as he had so much free time and so little to fill it. If he was in contact with Idhouri, he could have learnt so much. All ideas of escaping were ruined now his shield was gone. He could now see no acceptable way to become free and go home. His people would look for Idhouri and him, but how long would it take them to find them? Was Jozher serious about them killing him in revenge for his murder of the Vigilator?
12. A Gentle Approach
After fifteen further mediocre meals in the room Jozher appeared looking glum. He opened the hatch, and said, ‘your punishment is to be postponed. People above me think you are too important to kill. They are concerned about your health.’
‘You never cease to surprise me with your words.’
He disappeared and Zenan was carefully escorted by armed men to yet another new room. He cautiously explored but could find no visible gap where the screen was. They must have hidden it well. There was a bigger couch to sit, a large bed, and the light was controlled by a dial. There were books for him to read and various colourful edible fruits. There was a small room for preparing food and a place to wash and go to the toilet. He took off his clothes and got into the shower. He enjoyed the warm water rushing down his body. He looked at his stump, which was disgusting. He washed and felt clean, dried himself and walked through to the couch in the nude. He had left the lights on dim and was surprised to see someone sat with their back to him, ‘hello?’ he said.
The person turned. It was a woman. She replied, ‘hello.’
She had wavy dark hair, parted in the centre and falling past her shoulders and was light skinned in colour. She smiled faintly.
‘What are you doing here? Is this the new tactic they are planning to use on me?’ he asked.
‘I'm here to help you... if you'll let me.’
‘Help me? In this place?’ Zenan felt bemused.
‘Yes,’ she spoke softly, ‘I am sorry to interrupt your private time, please dress yourself.’
‘How can you help me? Will you let me walk free from this prison?’ he asked, as he pulled on his trousers.
‘I don't have to be here. I will go if you want. I can ask if you will be allowed out into the open air, but I can’t order it to happen.’ She stood and walked to the door.
‘Stay,’ he said. Perhaps it would be better to talk to her. Better to talk than to sit in an empty room again.
He walked back to the shower, picked up his tunic and came back to the main room. He struggled to put it on.
‘Would you like me to help you?’
He felt bemused at her offer, but replied ‘yes, thank you.’
He imagined she was a genuine friend or lover and let her stand behind him and pull his top on. He felt her hair brush against the back of his neck, and she smelt pleasant, ‘it self-seals. Thank you,’ he said.
He sat next to her leaving a comfortable gap, relishing its softness, and said, ‘tell me about yourself.’
He looked at her face closely and thought she was among the most beautiful looking women he had seen on the planet. Her skin was unblemished and light brown with full lips and black eyes. Her nose was small, her teeth perfect. Her hair was black and shone in the light. The immaculate clothes she wore revealed her neck, arms and her legs below her knees. He felt aroused seeing an alluring person so close. Such beauty was typical where he came from but here it was rare. She was the first woman he had seen since he was captured.
‘Is there anything... precisely you want to know?’ she hesitated.
Her voice compared to Jozher’s was softer and less aggressive.
‘Just tell me about your life and your view of the world. Just the relevant parts; I have so little knowledge of your world.’ He closed his eyes.
‘Well,’ she said, ‘this isn't easy, you know.’
‘I'm not testing you. I'm just trying to satisfy my curiosity.’
‘Well, I was born in small town. Do you want to know the name?’
‘No,’ he said.
He let her words and the sound of her voice flow over him; her voice was mesmerising. Her tone and inflection reminded him of Idhouri; gentle, sympathetic, friendly and warm. She talked briefly of childhood and school, education and her training to be a counsellor. She appeared understandably nervous.
‘Is that what you are here for; to help me with my problem?’
‘I am here to talk to you and help in any reasonable way I can.’
He wasn't sure if she was telling the truth about anything she said.
‘What's your name?’ he asked.
‘Kanirni, but I prefer Kani,’ she said.
‘You know my name?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well,’ she calmly said. ‘Aren't you going to reciprocate? Won't you share the story of your life with me?
‘I don't know.’
‘It's considered polite. One person speaks and the other person shares their feelings and experiences.’
He sat and pivoted his body towards the side of the couch. He walked the few paces to where she sat, and stood in front of her. She was quite slim, and he couldn't help but notice her legs. She looked at him and nervously crossed her legs.
‘Aren't you afraid to be in the same room as me?’ he asked.
She looked directly at him and rested her hand on her chin, ‘I don't believe you would hurt me.’
‘Why?’ he asked.
‘Well, you have lost your gun in your arm, haven't you? Secondly, I am a woman. I don't believe you would want to hurt me. Besides, if you did, I am well trained in self-defence.’
‘True, I have lost my shield,’ he put his left hand over to his stump. ‘I desire to hurt no one.’
‘Was your attacking the Vigilator an aberration?’
‘It was contrary to my whole existence.’
‘You were provoked?’ she asked, surprised.
‘Why else would I have hurt him?’
‘Killed him,’ she corrected him, and grimaced as she said it. ‘I don't believe you would harm me, otherwise I would not have agreed to come into this room with you.’ She tried to smile but it looked more of a parody.
He did not want her to feel afraid but preferred it to pity or contempt, ‘what about your 'self-defence'?’ he asked.
‘I've haven’t done any. I felt momentarily threatened, so I tried to warn you off.’
‘Oh.’
‘You said you would tell me about your life, and your experiences. Will you do it now?’
‘Yes.’
She smiled and patted the seat next to her and beckoned him.
He looked at her lithe legs and then away not wanting his concentration broken by her agreeable body. He sat near her and began to recount parts of his life as succinctly as he could. He took much longer than she had, even though he cut many parts out. There was a long pause, when he finished so he said, ‘that's it.’
‘I listened to every word. I hadn't fallen asleep. It just sounds so different from mine and my world. I wouldn't have thought people could organise their societies in such different ways. And you say it all works?’ she asked, without looking at him.
‘How could it be otherwise?’ he asked, confused.
‘It does sound fascinating,’ she said, after a pause.
‘Jozher could only see it as unworkable, spiritless, aimless, confused, un-thought out, insane and many other negative words.’
‘I am a different person. I am not Dr. Jozher. We are not all the same here on this world.’
‘I was beginning to wonder.’
Kani looked at her watch.
‘Can't you stay any longer?’ Zenan asked.
‘Well, I have got other things to do. It's gone sixteen dets.’
‘Sixteen dets?’
‘Yes. The days are divided into thirty dets here. Hasn't anyone ever shown you?’
‘Well...I remember, with Ke...’ And he immediately stopped himself.
‘Were you going to say with Kesh?’ she asked calmly.
‘No,’ he lied.
‘Kesh Vilenra who was found with you when you attempted to go back to your spacecraft.’
‘You know a lot for a Counsellor. Why can't I see her?’ he asked.
‘They explained what happened when I was chosen. I can assure you she is well, but doesn't want to see you.’
‘Why?’
‘She'd only known you for short time. She thought you were joking when you said you were an Alien. She wasn’t looking for someone from space!’
He was unsure whether Kani was lying. It might be true; he knew little of what Kesh wanted. Perhaps he was naive to think she was worrying about him.
‘I could stay longer if you wish?’
‘You mean if I wanted you to? I'm the prisoner here. You're still free to go. You don't have to be here if you don't want to.’
‘Well, I'll go. See this as a 'getting to know you' meeting. I'm sorry, but I've got another client to see, and I've got to go shopping and go home to rest. I feel guilty leaving you here, while I go off.’
‘You needn't be unless you are responsible for me being here.’
‘No, I'm not. I'm sorry I can't get you out of here. I'll do the best for you that I can.’
She stood up and smiled, ‘I'll see you tomorrow, then.’
He nodded. She walked towards the door and spoke to the screen. The door opened and a large man with a weapon cautiously stood outside. She looked back, and was gone.
Despite his contempt for those who kept him there, he felt excited at the prospect of Kani’s return the next day, and paced up and down the main room which measured twenty-one paces across. He grew despondent as he believed she wasn't going to come back and thought this one perhaps another one of their pointless strategies. Perhaps she would only come back when he finally allowed them access to his craft.
In the morning he smiled when the door finally opened. She was shorter in stature than he was and weighed considerably less.
‘Good morning Zenan,’ she said, smiling. ‘I hope I said your name correctly?’
He smiled with genuine pleasure to see a friendly beautiful person once more. ‘Yes, hello Kani. I hope you are well?’
‘Yes thank you.’
He invited her in and made a joke about the lack of home comforts.
‘I can assure you that you are the most fascinating person I could ever hope to meet,’ she said, as she sat on the sofa.
She was dressed elegantly. Again, her legs were on display and she smelt delightful, like fresh flowers. He commented on how lovely she looked and smelt. He offered her a drink, but she declined.
‘I'm a medic. I can wear what I want. Can people do that where you come from?’ she added.
‘Yes. What I'm wearing is standard issue - black tunic and trousers, self-sealing, all weather and absorbent and self-cleaning. Not everyone wears it,’ he admitted.
‘It looks rather bland… I didn't mean to be rude about your clothes.’
‘It's functional. They can't denote status or occupation where I come from.’ He whispered to the clothes to change their colour to a strong blue and watched her amazement.
He walked to the couch and sat further away than he would have at home.
She hesitated, and said, ‘I'm sorry, but I don't really understand everything you say. I know I didn't stay long yesterday, but I had to try to comprehend what you said to me. You said that you came here, because you were randomly selected by a machine. You had no special training, talent or qualifications? I can't see how it would work. What if asocial inadequate or violent person were randomly selected? Surely, at least some people were not eligible to be selected?’
‘To my knowledge no one, other than the very young were ineligible for selection. I was given instructions, and asked questions on how I would react in certain situations.’
