The Way Back

Chapter 2

Chapter 2If Javi had hugged Captain Stanten hard, he nearly hugged the stuffing out of Razz when he showed up the next day. He didn’t even wait to be let out of the cuffs, had to lift his arms over Razz’s head, let Razz lift him briefly off his feet.

No kisses. He didn’t know if he still had kissing privileges. So after he disentangled himself, he grinned at Razz like a fool, until the guard turned him away to undo the restraints and give him the spiel about what he couldn’t do in here. No s*x. Boo!

As Chand wasn’t here, the room would be monitored for sound during the visit. For some people that might cause them to be careful about expressing feelings too strongly. Not Javi.

The guard left and now unrestrained, Javi gave Razz another brief hug, around his chest this time, for the delight of holding that big strong body. Then he let go and sat on one of the weird transparent chairs.

“They only let two people in at a time,” Razz explained, a certain awkwardness to him, looking too big for the chair he sat in. Looming large in the room. “I wanted to see you right away, but arranging your defence had to take priority.”

“I understand. That’s okay, the captain said you’d be here as soon as they let you.” Practicality had to win out and nobody was more practical than the captain. “I’ve waited weeks, and didn’t even know if I’d ever see you again, so an extra day hasn’t killed me. Though I admit I didn’t sleep a wink last night.”

“I find that unlikely,” Razz said, face softening into a smile. “Sleep is one of your top skills.”

Javi grinned. Probably true. He had woken early in his cell though, as dawn filtered in through the small window, his mind buzzing with anticipation.

“We should talk,” Razz said. “And not nonsense about sleeping.”

A shame. Javi’s favourite kind of talk with Razz could usually be classified as nonsense. “I know that I deserved what you said to me.”

“Maybe you did, but I should have given you the chance to explain yourself.”

“I don’t know that there is much explanation beyond that I never meant to—” He stopped, as Razz raised his hand and pointed upwards, shook his head. Damn, the monitors. He had to be careful what he said. It could be recorded. It could be used against him.

“It’s in the past,” Razz said. “Whatever your intentions when you came aboard the Harriet, you became part of the crew and you came to be my…friend. To mean something to me. You still do. That’s what I wanted to say. We still have to work more things out later, but for now, understand.” He leaned forward and put one of his big hands over Javi’s. “I’m on your side, and not only because you’re crew.”

“Thank you.” Javi nearly choked on the words. Nearly melted into a puddle at the touch of that strong, warm hand. Razz smiled, then sat back. He grew more serious.

“Are you okay here?” he asked. “You look well enough, but…does anyone hurt you?”

Javi shook his head, wanting to reassure Razz right away. “I’m fine. I have a cell of my own. It’s little, but there’s nobody in there to bother me, so that’s good. The guards are…” He gave a tiny grin, glanced up to where he could see one of the room’s cameras. “Consummate professionals, who follow the rules at all times. Absolute gentlemen. I give them a five-star rating.”

“Knock it off,” Razz said.

“Okay, sorry, they’re fine. Not exactly friendly, but none of them beat me up, and they don’t let other prisoners do that either. Maybe I’m a high-profile prisoner and they don’t want me showing up to trial with bruises all over my face, and causing another riot with the Ixellans. I hear things are pretty fraught out at the new town already, without any more provocation.”

“Captain Stanten and your lawyer have gone there today. To talk to the teacher lady you told them about.”

“I wish you’d gone with them.”

“The captain doesn’t need my protection to visit a teacher.”

Javi snorted. “It’s not Mrs Zhintaq she needs to worry about.”

* * * *

“Do you live out here, Mr Chand?” Stanten asked, as they passed through the security gate of New Sabelville in their hired ground car.

“No, I have an apartment in the city.” He looked mildly embarrassed. Like a man admitting to something he should be ashamed of. “It wasn’t practical, once they moved the Ixellans out here. It would take me too long to travel to my office every day.”

Stanten wondered about the other people whose jobs in the city were now too far away for practical daily travel—it had taken nearly two hours to get out here, on a bad road. They’d seen one bus on the way.

“Did you live in old Sabelville before it was flattened?”

“Ah, well, no.”

“Ah ha. Presumably because it was as big a shithole as this place.”

“Well…”

“Never mind.” Who wouldn’t want to escape a shanty town? Education had helped Chand do so. At least he still worked and fought for his people, using the privilege he’d earned to help those who didn’t have that.

They approached the place where another person with the privilege of education helped her people—and definitely did not have an apartment in the city. The school building stood at the end of a dusty road. The whole town was dusty, surrounded by hot and barren land that had not benefited from any irrigation or land reclamation as the territory closer to the city had. As they’d driven through they’d seen a few attempts at gardens, the Ixellans using the extra space they had out here. But with too much sun and not enough water those gardens were quickly turning back into desert.

Chand had messaged ahead and the lady they’d come to visit waited on the steps of the schoolhouse.

“Come inside,” she called, as they got out of the car. Small and dark, and looking older than her years, she gestured to them and smiled, before turning away and leading them into the building—stiflingly hot in the mid afternoon heat. Silent too.

“Are classes done for the day?” Stanten asked.

“Yes. I’ve had to split the day between a morning and evening session,” Zhintaq said. “It’s too hot in the afternoon. They didn’t put in air conditioning when they built this place.” She sighed. “It’s hard. Many of the children don’t come back for the evening session.”

She led them on through to her living quarters, which were in the shelter of other buildings, so at least rather cooler, if somewhat dark.

“Sit,” she said, gesturing to a table, while she began to bustle about making tea. “I know you’re a local, Mr Chand. But you, Captain Stanten, I don’t know you.”

“I’m not from around here. I’m an Earther.”

“Ah, yes, I thought so, with that name. And your ship’s name, the Harriet Tubman.”

Stanten smiled, delighted. Most people had no clue who her ship was named for. “I did a school project about Tubman as a girl,” she said. “And she became something of a hero of mine.”

“It would behove you to look up the name,” Zhintaq said to Chand who looked quite blank about all of this. She brought the tea things to the table. “A campaigner like you should appreciate the history of that era.”

“I’m sure, ma’am,” he said. “But, we didn’t come to talk about history, or rather, we came to talk about more recent history.”

“The night of the eviction, yes. I’m surprised you’re the first people to do so.”

“Javi hasn’t revealed your name to the authorities. And even if they have identified you—and they probably have—they may want to keep you away from the trial. They have their narrative, and what you saw contradicts part of it.”

She poured the tea, looking thoughtful. “Then if I do come forward and testify for Javi, there’s a chance I’ll be punished. Maybe they’ll try to close down the school.”

“Ma’am, I assure you I won’t let that happen,” Chand said. Stanten and Zhintaq swapped a glance. Chand might be a sincere sort of lad, but not the type who’d be standing outside the school with a club with a nail in it, should they come for it. As Javi had been—even if he hadn’t meant for the nail to be there—and as others had been, when the gangs and drug dealers had tried to close her down before. But maybe when it was the authorities, using legal means, you needed a lawyer in your corner.

“I’ll testify,” she said. “If you hadn’t come for me, I’d have come to the trial and made sure I was heard.” She smiled. “I do like a bit of courtroom drama. Have you ever read To Kill a Mockingbird, Mr Chand?”

“Ah, no ma’am.”

“Dear me, and I thought you West Quarter kids were educated.”

Stanten hid her smile in her cup of tea.

“I’ll put it on my reading list,” he said, wryly, recognising he was being teased. “Can you tell us more about your history with Javi?”

“Certainly. I’ve known him nearly his whole life…”

* * * *

When Mrs Zhintaq showed them out, nearly two hours later, Chand had many notes—and several more additions to his reading list. Two young people waited outside beside the car. Stanten froze. Might be parents, but they didn’t have any children with them. Zhintaq called out to them airily though and Stanten relaxed.

“Anya, Stefan. Good to see you.”

Anya, a white girl, tall and rangy, with a bare, freckled face and copper-coloured hair, scowled. “Are you okay, Mrs Zhintaq? We heard he was here.” She gave Chand a still fiercer scowl. The boy, Stefan, skin as dark as Anya’s was fair, matched her scowl, arms crossed over his chest. Trying to look scary, Stanten thought. He was fairly scary. Quite big, and looked like he could handle himself in a street fight. So did Anya. But amateurs, the pair of them. A trained man or woman would take both of them down in a few seconds.

“He’s defending Javi,” Zhintaq said. “So don’t pick on him, even if he is West Quarter.”

“None of that means very much anymore,” Anya said.

“I’m going to be testifying for Javi,” Mrs Zhintaq said. “Perhaps you’d like to come along that day too, to show your support.”

“Oh yes.” Anya gave a grim smile. “We’re going to be there.”