Emigration, Julie Steimle [readict TXT] 📗

Incarceration

 

Jafarr watched the two Surface Patrol flight scooters buzz away. That girl was gone. Still, here he was, faced with ISIC again. The dark foreboding halls and rows of cells that he had become so familiar with when he worked on a maintenance crew were nothing, yet Jafarr knew they would not take him to the east wing. They would take him to the north wing, beat him to a pulp and maybe let him live. There was no use fighting, yet Jafarr smiled.

They dragged him down the main corridors then up to the north wing like he predicted where they threw him into a cell and turned on the security grid that created a heated wall of light separating him from the corridor. Jafarr walked to in the center of the small barren room and peered up at the ceiling vent where the air blew in. It was too high to reach by jumping. Besides, the defense grid secured that opening so he would not be able to touch it anyway.

He sighed and walked over to the wall near the door. Peering out, he noticed the guard sitting at the control panel watching the grids that monitored each room. Jafarr smiled then looked up at the room cam that scanned his cell. With a wink at the camera, he started to hum. After a few seconds he began to whistle. The guard glanced over, looking irritated as Jafarr whistled a folk song he knew.

After a while Jafarr started to sing the words.

 

“The wee one slept on his mother’s lap and dreamed of a happy tale,

Where he was a great over land sailor that rode on the back of a whale.

But when he woke up and opened his eyes, to his great despair,

The wee lad remembered that the ocean was not there.

 

The wee one slept on his mother’s lap and dreamed of a beautiful sight,

Of green fields and orchards and the bright twinkling stars at night.

But when he woke up and opened his eyes, to his great despair,

The wee lad remembered that the green land was not there.

 

The wee one slept on his mother’s lap and dreamed of a life without care,

Of flowers and fragrances, clean blue sky and the fresh free open air.

But when he woke up and opened his eyes, to his great despair,

The wee lad remembered that breathing air was not there.

 

The wee one slept on his mother’s lap and dreamed of a life so bright,

Of freedom and justice, and love, a good world without blight.

But when he grew up and opened his eyes, to his great despair,

The wee lad was no more and his freedom was not there.

 

“Shut up!” the P.M. yelled after the fourth verse.

Jafarr smiled and shrugged. He started to sing another song. His voice was a warm tenor so it wasn’t the sound that bothered the guard, but the words. They were undercity songs, after all.

 

If I gave my mother a flower it’d be on her grave.

For that is where she lay.

If I gave my father a hero’s call it’d be to the sky

For that is where he lay.

If I gave my love a kiss it’d be to the wind

For that is where she lay.

If I gave myself a bit of hope it’d be in my heart

For that we cannot slay.

 

The P.M. glared at Jafarr as he stepped towards his cell, jabbing the security grid. “I said shut up!”

Jafarr fell back as the voltage leapt and shocked him. However, he did not stop grinning or stop singing.

 

I lived in a little alley near the metro lines.

I ate scraps and paper and other dirty finds.

I called out to my mother but saw she wasn’t there

A P.M. had killed her dead, lying on a stair.

 

“Shut up!” the People’s Military officer yelled, striking the barrier again. “Shut up!”

But Jafarr laughed and leaned back again, however, his smile vanished when he saw a familiar and unwelcome sight. Dural Korad strode over to his cell, shaking his head with a look like a cat that had caught the mouse that had eluded him under the baseboards.

“I’ll take it from here,” Korad said to the guard.

The guard tromped back to his station, casting Jafarr warning looks, as he sat down in his seat.

Dural Korad gave Jafarr a look of reproof.

But Jafarr no longer restrained his feelings toward this P.M. knowing maintaining image now was pointless. Jafarr rose and walked back to the far wall facing his cell door, and leaned against it.

“Are you’re here to protect me?” Jafarr asked, not hiding his sarcasm as his eyes fixed on the man.

He could see the P.M. frown, adjusting his gloves.

Looking to the floor, Jafarr said, “So you’re here to kill me, like you killed my father.”

Dural Korad’s answer came with bite. “I tried everything to save you.”

“Ha!” Jafarr laughed in a bark. Tears ran down his cheeks as he glared up at the man. “Save me? You’re a blasted P.M. and I’m a Zeldar. We’re born enemies!”

The Dural gave Jafarr a reproving look again. “I do my job. I keep the peace. It is your kind that keeps things in the chaos that holds humanity at its baser level.”

“Your job?” Jafarr yelled, keeping his distance. “I’ve seen P.M.s like you murder innocent people!”

“If we killed anyone they were hardly innocent,” Dural Korad said.

Jafarr glared as he stomped up to the defense grid. “Like my mother?”

Dural Korad’s eyes flickered with understanding. “Your mother, yes. She was a threat to the safety of our people.”

“A threat? My mother was nothing of the sort! She was an honest hard working person with great ideals.” Jafarr paced on his side of the defense screen. “She did nothing against the government. She was trying to work within the system.”

“Within the system?” Dural Korad laughed with haughty mirth, tossing his head back. “Can you hear yourself? Your mother was of Seer Class blood. She broke from the system the day she married your father. She was breaking it again when she was trying to take a Social Work Class position.”

“That’s roach. That’s scabs. My mother was looking to our future,” Jafarr said. He fixed his angry eyes on Dural Korad, clenching his fists. “My mother was innocent of any wrongdoing, and you P.M.s murdered her. I don’t care what you say about that.”

Dural Korad looked at him darkly. “So that has been your opinion this whole time?”

Jafarr stood defiantly, squaring his shoulders. “I don’t care what your reasoning is for killing my father. I knew what he was doing.”

He could see the P.M.’s glare intensify.

Looking at his feet Jafarr added, “I may not have known the details, since he did hide the particulars from me, but I knew.”

To that the P.M. blinked as if actually surprised. 

But Jafarr’s own glare intensified as he said, “Your kind had murdered more people than I can count. Innocent peace loving people. I cannot allow that.”

Dural Korad’s surprise increased, bursting into laughter. “You cannot allow that? Who do you think you are? Some sort of hero?”

Jafarr could feel his face burn. He clenched his teeth as the Dural continued to mock him.

“You are nothing but an undercity rat with an especially obnoxious lineage.” Dural Korad glanced down the hall as if he was expecting somebody. He then looked at his watch. He peeked at Jafarr out of the corner of his eye. “We’re only letting you live because you have information we need.”

It was Jafarr’s turn to laugh. He stepped back from the defense grid and stuffed his hands in the uniform pockets. “You think I’m going to tell you the information you need? Do you think I’m actually going to fink on my friends and fellow Arrassians?”

“Dural Kordek is very persuasive,” Dural Korad said with a smug grin.

Jafarr rolled his eyes. “I bet.”

Dural Korad did not let his smug expression leave. He just looked at Jafarr then his watch.

Jafarr leaned over to the side of the cell and started to sing again, much to the guard’s annoyance, his tenor carrying in the cell almost like a requiem.

 

I met my lass down by the glass that peered into the sky.

She said to me, “my darling,” she said to me, “Oh, why?

Where is the peace of Adaral? Where is the peace of Zanrai?”

I said to my lass down by the glass that peered into the sky,

“In the last Tarrn is peace. A peace that will never die.

In the last Tarrn there is hope, the hope that comes with Zanrai.”

 

Dural Korad’s face flushed with anger as Jafarr finished the last verse. His hands shook and his eyes narrowed with vehemence as spit flew out of his mouth. “You little Tarrn loving rat! Where did you learn that?”

“He has been singing songs like that since he got here,” the guard replied, giving Korad sympathetic looks.

Jafarr smirked. “What can I say? I am a Zeldar. We were first cousins to the Tarrns.”

The guard’s face reddened, his eyes flickering to Dural Korad, but Korad only shook his head and smiled.

“You are christening your grave, Zeldar.” Dural Korad glanced at his watch and looked down the corridor once more. A smile spread across his lips as a man in an important suit strode into the detention hall. Dural Korad extended a hand to him. “Dural Kordek, glad to see you.”

“Where’s your pet project?” Dural Kordek asked, peering into the prison cell.

Jafarr stood up as he got a good look at the Dural in the green suit. The Dural was likewise peering him over. This P.M. was not that tall nor hardly built. Jafarr wondered what the fuss was about, but held out forming any conclusions, considering the best Surface Patrol officer as of late was a twelve-year-old girl. The older P.M. gazed at Jafarr’s defiant face and read the look there.

“Do you know who I am?” the Dural asked.

Jafarr lifted his eyebrows and thumbed over at Dural Korad. “He says you’re Dural Kordek.”

With a snort, the man in the fancy green uniform lifted up his chest and said with authoritative gravity, “I head the People’s Military.”

Jafarr smirked.  “Really? How impressive. I got to meet the Kevin and the head of the P.M.s. Are you going to ask me to join too?”

He leaned back and folded his arms.

Not at all impressed at Jafarr’s display of bravado, Dural Kordek bent rocked on his heels with a glance at Dural Korad then the guard. “Call in Dural Mezra. I want a full job done.”

The guard obeyed immediately, sending the message in. His mouth twitched at the corners in a smile.

A full job. Jafarr knew what that meant: cracked ribs, broken bones, burns, and possible paralysis, though they would drag out the pain as long as they could so they could interrogate him. Dural Kordek saw Jafarr’s apprehension, especially how twitchy Jafarr glanced toward the side, rocking on his feet as apparent fear spread across him. The P.M.’s lips spread into a grin.

Never liking that smile, Jafarr squared his shoulders and stepped backward to the wall where rested against it, sliding down to the floor. Both Durals turned to talk to each other, ignoring the young man in the cell. Their conversation even turned to laughing, as if they were waiting for a routine check up at a doctor’s office. Jafarr started to sing to himself again.

 

If I were a laddie a sitting by the sea

I’d pray for a sea to sit by

I’d pray for a sea to sit byI’d pray for a sea to sit by

And possibly a tree,

Yes, and possibly a tree.

 

If I were a lassie a singing by a well

I’d sing for a well to sit by

I’d