Whether I admit my guilt or not nobody will let me out of here anyway. So why bother with the honour? But it felt like a frank confession could change the officer’s attitude which could possibly mean a better outcome in the long run. Who knows what Brodsky is responsible for?
“There. Now we are talking! Good girl!” the man in a cap cheered up. “Why would you deny such a talent? I very much respect those who can do more than just send an email.”
Yeap, me too.
“Do you think if I had your talents I would be sitting here all day long?”
You’d be sitting inside the Tally… I think.
“And I would be getting much bigger money” Brodsky switched into a “dream” mode. “And unlike you, I’d be thinking ahead about how not to be caught.”
Right… Don’t get carried away, you, smart arse.
I made a sour face as if to show him “not everybody is as smart as you!” and sighed. He leaned towards me and tapped my hand with his.
“That’s alright girl, you are still young. So don’t feel too bad, I’ll find good accommodation for you. There is a cute vacant room in a nice location. Not very close to the centre though but the air is much cleaner this way, don’t you think? I don’t meet many talented people like you are very often and your face is pretty…”
I screwed up my face - thank God Brodsky didn’t seem to notice it.
“There.” A few objects appeared on the table. His sausage finger pointed to the one on the left. “There is a key to an apartment in this envelope. The address is written here. Show it at the bus stop so someone can tell you which bus to take or show it to a taxi driver. Now then…” the officer pointed to the next item – a wide metal bracelet.
“Put it on your wrist before leaving the building and never try to take it off until you gain one thousand points.”
“What do you mean “one thousand points”?”
“Please don’t interrupt me. This bracelet is your ID, your credit card and your life. All additional information you need is in this book. Now another thing is…” he knocked on the surface of a strange square object - a box with a screen and a “zero” showing on it - with the tip of his finger. “This is a static score counter. You have to keep it at home. Whenever we need to check how many points you’ve got – there is a small screen on your bracelet. Just in case - the bracelet is small – God forbid you break it.”
I can’t say that I understood much of what he was talking about but I tried my hardest to absorb everything. The items that I was presented with were given to every person and obviously it was an important part of the local system which was starting to remind me more and more of a prison. I still had to learn what their purpose was and how to use each of these in the future. Meanwhile Brodsky was singing like a bird:
“This book might be very useful. Don’t even think about throwing it to away.”
I glanced briefly at the cover of the book - there was one word written proudly in big font and it read “The Constitution”. In a smaller font there was another line: “The Rules and Regulations of Tally”.
“That is it, I think. The officer pondered for a second. “Oh, yes - you still don’t have any points credited to you, so here are your coupons. Each coupon is equal to one point. Use them to pay for a bus or taxi ride and get some food until you find a job.”
Five pink paper coupons emerged in front of me on the table.
“Thank you” I said politely – because it felt like it was necessary to say something.
“You’re welcome! It’s not very often I see criminals like you - hackers. More often they are killers or rapists… That’s the big difference with you, I think.”
Even though I was not guilty of anything at all I felt some kind of gratitude towards this officer.
“Is it hard to live here?” I asked him at the moment when he was being in a nice and talkative mood.
“It depends on the person. It’s easier for some and harder for others. Get your belongings and proceed to the corridor. I’ve already spent too much time on you and there is a long line still waiting. So, bye-bye.”
“Bye.”
I grabbed my things from the table, put them into the paper bag I was given and nodded politely to the officer with the moustache.
“Good luck to you!” he said as I was on my way out. “Next! Gasher Green? Come here!”
As I was walking down the narrow corridor I was thinking if Tally would become my “home” - even if it’s just for a short while. But something was telling me that it won’t happen. Too many strange things were in my bag and the “The Rules and Regulations book of Tally” seemed a bit too thick for my liking. If I’m lucky I’ll leave this place before I read the last page. In the case that I ever need to read it at all.
After I had a chance to visit a small rundown toilet I went past two more men in uniforms and then headed towards the exit. Now the rain has stopped and the sun was beaming down from the sky. Suddenly I stopped recalling the officer’s words about putting the bracelet on my wrist before leaving the building; I put my paper bag on top of the luggage and begun to rummage through it trying to find this gratuitous accessory. At first the bracelet felt too lose but when I pressed both ends together it bleeped and locked in. Now it fits.
The wonders of modern technology...
After admiring my bracelet for a while - not that it looked that good but not too bad either - I twisted and turned my hand couple of times, grabbed my bag and continued on my way to the exit. To my joy there was nobody checking the luggage. I was dying to have a look myself but I knew it wasn’t a good idea to do this in the toilet so I decided to wait until I get to the apartment. When I passed the glass doors I found myself standing on a sun-drenched street of a real city. The building of “The border” was towering behind me and the road to the main part of the city unfolded before me. A few bright yellow cars with “Tazi” signs on them - the spelling of the word seemed a little strange but understandable - were chilling by the curb. I looked around trying to figure out if I should get a taxi (sorry a “Tazi”) right away or I should try and find a bus stop first? I could not see it from where I was standing. A feel of summer was all around me: green bushes and grass, buzzing bees and the birds were whirling around in carefree pirouettes.
Maybe this place isn’t as bad as I expected? I rejoiced squinting at the sun. Despite the fatigue and the desire to take a nap for an hour or two, I decided to take a little walk and check out at the surroundings. It would be nice to get to know this city - what it’s like?
I passed some shouting taxi drivers - aren’t they the same as everywhere else? They really do try to lure you in with their “hey, lady! Do you need a Tazi? It’s cheap! Just tell me where you wanna go...” I made a turn on the road that lead to the city. It was hard to fail with the directions as there was only one single concrete path that could take me there.
My feet were moving fast and my eyes were marvelling at the flowers growing on the side of the road. As I reached the top of the hill I stopped blown away by the view. And that was some view: in the valley below the mountains the city resembled a cat curled in a basket.
A haze from the heat was rising above the roofs and roads; hot air was quivering over the abundantly growing greenery which there was plenty of in this lost world of mountains. The city seemed asleep under the sun. I could see some small cars moving along the roads - from the distance they seemed tiny and slow, and I could even detect a few pedestrians.
Tally. Midday.
I took my eyes away from the view and felt the sweat rolling down my forehead. I wiped it off and continued with my journey. It was a lot easier to walk down the hill and I felt more positive. The wheels of my bag were bouncing on small rocks and excitement replaced the tiredness.
Not long now. Not long.
At last after walking for another thirty minutes I found myself standing on one of the streets of the mystical Tally.
Strangely enough, from a closer look the city didn’t look as bright and attractive as it did from the top of the hill: the plastering on the walls was peeling off, store signs - pale and bland - as though they’d been hanging there since the last century; some lonely people were hurrying into the shade - all of this gave me a strong sense of gloom and emptiness.
Near the traffic lights I turned right and walked along the Alpine Avenue - at least that’s the name that was written on a pinned to a pole plate. This avenue was slightly wider than the street I was on before and yet had the same feeling of abandonment. A few times I saw some people walking past me - three men and one woman. They all looked at me with a surprise and even dread; furthermore - the woman made a big detour to avoid me as if she was afraid of catching a disease. Such behaviour from the others didn’t make me feel optimistic and I paused to have a look around. Am I missing something? For a few seconds I was scrutinising the surroundings: two-storey houses, an old and forsaken cafe with dusty windows and creaky door but nothing seemed particularly suspicious or dangerous and so I carried on. As I passed two more streets and three more pedestrians - all of which had the same expression of their faces as if to say “Is there anybody home, you, dummy?” I came to a decision not to pay attention to the things I don’t understand. But right at this very second I heard a piercing sound of a whistle.
I turned around.
A man looking like a local policeman rushed towards me. His shoulders were squeezed into the blue uniform, a shiny buckle pressed tightly into his huge belly that was wobbling as he ran. The policeman was waving a dark baton and constantly wiping away the sweat running down his blue cap.
“Aren’t you familiar with the rules?” he was breathing heavily and his bushy eye brows frowning.
“My apologies. But what did I do wrong?”
“This is a one way street!” he growled at me.
I involuntarily looked down the road but it was completely empty.
“Good. But what does it have to do with me?” I was surprised and irritated about being stopped for a ludicrous reason.
“Don’t you see this sign?” the policeman waved in the direction of the sign by the curb.
I glanced at a white arrow painted on a blue square background. I looked again at the empty road. There was another pedestrian within my sight who rushed to a hide as he saw the blue cap.
“Yes, I do see the sign. But I don’t even have a steering wheel on me and the sign is for road users only.”
“This sign is for pedestrians!” the policeman shouted. His face went an unpleasant purple colour - perhaps not too many people risked arguing with him in the past and he allowed himself to get angry. “This is a one way street for pedestrians!”
I was so amazed that I let go of the bag handle and it swayed backwards. Is it possible to have one way street for pedestrians? Isn’t it ridiculous? I suddenly recalled all the people that I saw on the street earlier. Did they know? Actually I didn’t find it strange that nobody passed me the same direction - I walked quite fast.
Meanwhile the policeman got out an unfamiliar to me gadget, moved it to my bracelet and watched the screen. The gadget made a short sound and flashed green.
“Ah, I see!” the policeman seemed to calm down a little. “So it’s your first day in Tally.”
“That’s correct.”
“So this time you were lucky. Should this happen tomorrow - you get half of a point.”
I frowned. What are these points about? Why do they measure everything by points? Is it good or bad for me? A half of one point - is it a lot?
“Go then. Consider yourself lucky.” the way he said it made me feel he was disappointed. The man wiped the sweat off his forehead again and hid the scanner back behind the belt. “Don’t forget to read the ‘The Rules and Regulations of Tally’ ”.
He walked away and left me standing alone in the middle of the street. I watched him go but this incident ruined my good mood. Which direction should I go in now? If I continue as before it’s very likely the policeman will stop me again. And then another one will stop me, and another. But there was no point to go back. My hope that a sign on the opposite side of the road will point me in the right direction disappeared as I glanced on it - the arrow was pointing in the same direction.
Damn you, people! Who made this bloody system? I swore to myself.
For the next few minutes I stood on the same spot not knowing what to do. And then I saw a bright yellow “Tazi” driving up the road.
“Hey!” I ran to the curb waving a free hand. “Stop! Please!”
Won’t I get fined for shouting?
A quick thought flashed at the back of my mind but there wasn’t time to think. The car stopped.
“Where would you like to go?” the driver’s head popped out of the window.
I wasn’t sure whether the sun was the reason or that nature had given him such an odd gift but the skin on the man’s face was very dark while his hair was short and pale, rather than some black curls that you would expect to see on a skin tone like his.
“I need to get to… Just a moment…” I managed to fish out my envelope with a key and read out the address. “To Bell-Oak Park.”
I showed the address to the driver.
“I see. It’s pretty much the other end of the city. That’s a very long drive. Get in.” he nodded at the back seat.
“How much is going to cost?”
“One and a half points.”
“Isn’t that a bit too much?” I tried to complain when I heard the price. “I only have five coupons which I still need to get some food with.”
“Why are you asking me?” the driver retorted. “I’m not responsible for the prices.”
My irritation faded away.
“Ok. Let’s make it one and a half points then.”
I pushed my bag on the back seat and got into the car. Now my curiosity was tearing me apart.
“And who is responsible for the prices?”
“The City.”
“So all Tazi use the same fairs?”
“Uhuh.”
“Do you get some sort of percentage of the fare to yourself?”
“Nope. I’m paid two points a day and that’s the whole of my salary” he muttered whilst driving away from the Alpine Avenue. “And it doesn’t matter if I get no work all day. Are you new here or what?”
“Yes, it’s my first day here.”
The driver gave me a quick glance.
“You’ll learn quickly.”
A new wave of tiredness came over me again and instead of looking at the streets of the new city I leaned my head against a cool window and dozed off. Sometime later an unfriendly “Hey!” woke me up.
I flinched and opened my eyes.
“We have arrived. This is Bell-Oak Park.”
Huffing and puffing at the driver, his creaky taxi, the heat and the lack of sleep, I got out of the car. I counted two coupons and accepted some change in return - this must be half of a coupon. Oh, so they do have“notes”like this as well. The car turned around and drove away. I stood there all alone, breathing in the dust the car left behind and observed the surroundings. This place could be called all sorts of things: a hostel, a suburban village or even “the last frontier” but not at a “Park”. Yes, true - there was a crooked wooden plank in the middle of the flowerbed that said “The Bell-Oak Park” - but that flowerbed was the only object of interest around I could see so far.
I recalled what Brodsky said about this city. This was a good place in his opinion. So, what would be a bad place then? I thought that the answer to this question won’t take me long to find out. I sighed and rolled my bag towards a three-story building with rows of dusty windows. It seemed that the sun whitened the peeled paint on the walls. Some stumpy bushes didn’t appear dead despite the heat - someone must water them once or twice a day.
I didn’t see anybody on my way to the building nor as I stepped inside a cool and shady staircase. Standing in a sunlight coming through the window, I found my envelope and discovered that the number of my room is 314 - must be the third floor. After a few futile attempts to find a lift I headed up the stairs.
The corridor itself and stairs looked neat. There was even a carpet on the floor the colour of which could not be defined with one word. I was hoping there would be air-conditioning and a shower in my room. The sweat that was running down my back started to bother me.
Just remember this is not a hotel. Just be grateful there is at least a bed and stove.
A bed and stove were indeed in my room. There was also a little kitchen and a fridge separated from the living room by a partition; a wardrobe, two armchairs, one chair, small bathroom with a sink, toilet and a shower; and even a TV which was quite unexpected. The TV remote control was in a holder secured straight to the wall.
I squeaked in surprised - not bad at all for a start. I concluded that this room was fine to live in; of course this was not a five star hotel but not a Spartan cell either. I discovered the air con as well which gave me a sense of a relief. It was old and noisy but it was bringing some cool air into the room. There was no heating control on its remote but something was telling me that the citizens of Tally would never have such a need in this city.
After this quick inspection I felt satisfied with my room and feeling in a good mood I decided to open my bag. As I was half way through of unzipping my luggage I suddenly paused. No, the first task is to take a shower and then I see what’s inside my bag. Now I’ve got plenty of time - there is no need to go anywhere and therefore I can refresh myself before exploring the content of it.
After checking that the door is locked I headed for the bathroom.
The cool shower helped me to fight my tiredness. In the kitchen I found a glass, filled it up with cold tap water and stepped out on a little balcony which lurked behind some peach-coloured curtains. As soon as I opened the glass doors I went numb - the mountains. A real mountain range which consisted of red boulders, was covered in hot incandescent air and rising distantly on the horizon. I covered my eyes with the palms of my hands protecting them from the bright sun and whistled. How high should these mountains be if they look so impressive from this balcony? And the local sunsets must look incredible in this heavenly beautiful place.
Right... Don’t you dare to think you found a paradise. You wanna go and find something to do.
I went back in the room, put the glass on the table and headed towards my luggage bag. It is time to find out what the Corporation has provided me with. I checked that the door is locked once again, then sat on the bed and opened the bag.
Right on top there was a pile of summer clothes: a few t-shirts, pair of shorts, two tops and one blouse.
How about a cocktail dress? I murmured moving the clothes to a side.
Underneath the t-shirts there were a pack of knickers (with days of the week written on them), a few pairs of socks and a hairbrush.
Fabulous! Which one of you measured my size and when did you do that? I continued muttering as I picked one sock from the pile and tried to put it on. The sock fitted nicely. I guess it was safe to assume that the underwear would fit me as well. I moved the socks and knickers to one side and eventually discovered the parcel for Mr Laroche and a pile of bank notes.
Wow! I was staring at five bundles of the bank notes, tightly wrapped with a paper band. How much is in there?
I quickly counted the money and determined that I am now an owner of fifty thousand dollars. Is it much for this place? Possibly the Corporation decided that this amount is enough to cover expenses while I look for Laroche and cover my return trip home. Maybe if there is anything left I can keep it for my own needs? I still needed to clarify that.
Suddenly I heard a knock on the door and rushed to throw everything back into the bag.
Where can I hide it? Where?
Since I couldn’t find a better place for the bag I kicked it under the bed; straightened the bed cover and went to answer the door.
There was no peephole on the door. I plucked up all my courage and unlocked it. On the other side of the door there was a young girl - around twenty years old. She stood there intensively scratching the sides of her body. She had fair hair, and was wearing a scruffy t-shirt and a pair of grey shorts over her bandy legs.
“Hi!” she said and stopped scratching, her eyes glued to my face. “Are you new here? I saw you with your bag from my window.”
“Yes.” I confirmed not knowing what to expect from this visitor.
“These nasty gnats bite wherever they want.” the girl said angrily as she scratched her t-shirt with dirty finger nails. Then she stretched her hand and smiled openly. “I am Jennifer. Or Jenny. I’m your neighbour from room three hundred and twelve”
I shook her warm and moist hand.
“I’m Shereen.” and since I didn’t know what else to say, I added. “Welcome in.”
Jenny walked straight into my room slapping with her bare feet on the floor.
“Listen, you must have just moved in which means that your fridge is still full. May I borrow some jam from you? I am dying for something sweet.”
I closed my jaw that dropped to the floor from such a nerve but after a second I decided that relationship with my new neighbours might be more useful than food and waved my hand towards the kitchen
“Feel free to take it.”
Jenny immediately jumped to the fridge and began to rummage through the shelves.
“Mmmm... Here it is! My favourite! Thank you, err..”
“Shereen.” I reminded to her politely.
“Oh, yeah, right... Shereen. You can knock on my door any time you want to talk or anything.”
She waved “goodbye” with the jam jar in her hand and flew out of the door like a happy dragonfly.
Five minutes later I forgot all about Jenny and the jam and carried on sorting out the clothes in the wardrobe. I piled the knickers, socks and t-shirts neatly on the shelves. The money was hidden behind them - not the best pla