They discharged me from the hospital on Tuesday morning, and I insisted on walking home to get some fresh air after I was cooped up in there for three days.
When we were back home, Nanako went through the whole flat with a critical eye, considering the paint scheme, faded second hand curtains, towels, sheets, the amenities in the cupboards, even the sofa.
"Do you still want to live in Newhome?" I asked, curious.
"Yep," she answered as she dug through the kitchen cupboards.
"But won't you feel smothered by our laws and traditions?”
“Such as?”
“You know, like young women cannot go to the market without an older woman to accompany them?"
“I know about that rule. I was warned about it when Councillor Okada and I arrived. That’s why he’s been accompanying me everywhere I go. Are there many laws like that?”
“I’m afraid so.” I ran more of Newhome’s laws past her, such as women not being able to go to school, work, or even go out after dark. I didn’t tell her about our cultural traditions, such as women waiting on men and not speaking during dinner without permission. We would not be observing those traditions in our home.
“That’s nuts! What is the penalty if women break these laws?” Nanako wasn’t impressed – shocked, even.
“The Custodians would arrest them. Depending on the nature of the ‘crime,’ they would hit them with hefty fines and possibly prison time,” I explained.
“Really? And your women folk put up with this – why?”
I explained to her about the Founders and their goal of establishing a society that would not make the same mistakes the pre-Apocalyptic world made. Mistakes that led to a worldwide nuclear war.
“And restricting women’s freedoms is going to prevent another nuclear war?”
“I can’t see how, but that’s what they believe.”
“I think there’s a lot more to this than what they’re letting on. I really wish we knew what country your Founders came from. I think that would explain a lot.” Nanako frowned. "Well, it looks like I’ll be asking your mother to come with me when I go shopping."
"Fair enough, but wouldn't our lives be simpler and easier if we went back to Hamamachi? That way you'll be free to do whatever you want," I suggested.
Nanako took me by the hand and led us to the sofa, where we sat down. "We can't ever go back to Hamamachi, Ethan. Not for any reason."
"Why not?"
"Do you know what caused your injury?" she asked carefully.
"My father told me I'd been hurt by a ceiling collapsing while foraging, but the neurologist I saw last Saturday said I'd been shot."
She nodded. "Yes, but not just shot – shot at point blank range."
Fear's icy fingers gripped my stomach and began to twist. I didn't want to hear anymore, but this was something I had to know. "How did it happen?"
"You went out on a classified mission with your squad of Rangers in September 2120. When your squad failed to report in, they sent another squad to find out why. A day later they brought your squad back. Four members were dead, and you were at death's door. After they operated on you they put you in a forced coma, and somehow, you pulled through, although in a very unhealthy state, as you know."
"Did they give you any details on the mission?" I asked, the fear turning and twisting into dread. How could five Rangers be wiped out so easily?
"No," she answered gruffly, "Regardless of how many times I asked or how hard I pushed, they refused to give me any details of what happened, just that you'd been shot in the line of duty. But you know that's impossible, don't you?"
"What do you mean?" The dread was snaking up my spine and spreading its icy tendrils into the back of my head.
"There's no way someone could creep up on you and shoot you in the head at point blank range, is there?"
I knew what she meant, and I agreed – I had already reached the same conclusion. "No, there isn't. No one can creep up on me when I'm awake, and even if I was asleep, the faintest suspicious sound would wake me."
"So what conclusion does that lead you to?"
"I was shot by someone I knew and trusted implicitly." The dread exploding throughout my head.
"Exactly."
"Do you have any idea who it could have been?" I asked.
"No, that's a question I was hoping you could answer. Have any of the memories that returned...?"
I shook my head, "Sorry, apart from the dream, I’ve only seen fragments. Always of mundane things, not people."
"That's what I thought. So then, do you understand why we can't go back to Hamamachi? Someone there – someone you trusted – murdered your squad and tried to kill you too. If we went back there to live, they may try to finish what they started."
I nodded thoughtfully, and added hesitantly, "Actually, I think it may be worse than that."
"What do you mean?"
"Does Councillor Okada have many enemies?"
"There are those who oppose him in the council, but that's to be expected, right? I'm not aware of him having any actual enemies who'd go so far as to try to harm him. Why do you ask?"
"The whole affair of the Skel ambushing you and Councillor Okada when you came to Newhome doesn't sit well with me," I replied. "I reckon those Skel were waiting for you."
Nanako's eyes widened in alarm. "I thought it was a coincidence, just a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time."
I shook my head. "A large group of Skel, equipped with bombs powerful enough to blow apart one of your big 4WDs, who just happened to be on the very road you were using? That's too many coincidences for me."
"But if that's true, it means that someone – or someones – in Hamamachi just tried to kill me and the Councillor! And not only that, they must be working with the Skel!"
"That's right, though without any proof it's all conjecture."
"I have to tell Councillor Okada about this," she said.
"I'm sure it's already occurred to him."
"You may be right, but I'll mention it just in case. And oh, one more thing, don't tell anyone else that your memories have started to return. It's possible they didn't try to kill you when you were in the hospital because of the amnesia."
"Okay, but what about Councillor Okada, have you told him I remembered meeting you?"
She shook her head. "No, I told him you found out who I was from the hospital admission form."
"You don't trust him?" Surely she trusted her faithful chaperone.
"Well of course I trust him, but what if he accidentally lets it slip in front of the wrong person?"
"If you don't mind my asking, what is your relationship with the councillor?" I asked. They acted more like family, not like a councillor and his interpreter.
"He was my father's best friend," she replied. "And he's been like a father to my brother, sister and I since our father passed away."
"Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't know. What happened?" I asked.
She averted my gaze when she answered. "He had cancer, and died a year before I met you. Sorry, can we not talk about this now?"
That answer sent a dozen questions spinning through my mind, but I respected her request and let the matter drop. At a guess, I'd say she'd been very close to him.
* * *
Councillor Okada dropped by our flat on Thursday while Nanako and I were productively engaged repainting my flat’s ugly duck-egg blue walls with a refreshing pale golden-yellow. He informed us that he was returning to Hamamachi tomorrow, now that the consignment of goods Newhome was going to trade with the Japanese was finally ready.
We returned to painting after he left, though with some difficulty on my part due to one arm being in a sling.
“You realise you were speaking to Councillor Okada with paint on your nose,” I said to my wife.
“That’s because you put it there,” she replied.
I held up my hands in mock indignation. “Surely not I? Here, would you like me to wipe it off?”
“Please do.”
I picked up the small cloth we’d been using to wipe up accidents and spills, and gave her irresistibly cute button-nose a bit of a rub. “Hmm, the paint seems to have dried. I’ll have to use a wet rag.” I dipped the rag into the wet paint and painted the rest of her nose pale golden-yellow.
“Ethan, you’re supposed to be painting the walls, not me!” She admonished me with a touch of mirth as she stepped forward to wrap her arms around me. But as I embraced her with my right arm, I felt a paint roller run down my back.
Nanako stepped back giggling – the first time I’d seen her do so, and it had to be the cutest thing I’d ever seen. It made me wonder how many times we had like this when we were newlyweds.
“These are my best clothes!” I protested in mock indignation.
“Lucky the paint is acrylic then, eh?”
“Absolutely, especially considering your nose is covered in it,” I laughed. And then, on a more serious note, I asked “Have I changed much?”
“What do you mean?” she asked as she put down the paint roller.
“You know, from when you knew me before,” I replied. “I mean, for me, getting to know you is all new, and I’m loving every minute of it, because you’re just the most amazing person I’ve ever met. But what about you? How do I compare to the Ethan you used to know? Are you disappointed?”
She took my right hand in hers and looked up to make eye contact. “You’re still you – the same Ethan I fell in love with three years ago – if that’s what you’re asking. But there’s a depth to you now that wasn’t so obvious when you were eighteen. Back then, life was one big adventure, but now you know there’s a darker side to it as well. We’ve both changed because of this trial we’ve been forced to endure, but now that we're back together again, our wounded hearts can begin the healing process to become whole again. From here it will only get better.”
A sharp rap on the door interrupted our conversation. Expecting it to be one of my friends, since I’d heard only one pair of boots approaching, I was most unpleasantly surprised when I opened the door and found our visitor was Lieutenant King.
He tipped his head slightly. "Mr. and Mrs. Jones."
At least he had accepted we were married now. "How can we help you, Lieutenant?"
He removed a sealed letter from his Custodian fatigues and handed it to me. "Orders from Custodian command, Jones."
I read the letter and handed it to Nanako, who was standing beside me now. "Why me, Sir?"
The faintest trace of an empty smile tweaked the corners of King's mouth. "In light of your considerable experience with the Skel and Melbourne's eastern suburbs, I considered you to be the obvious choice to lead the trade convoy to Hamamachi."
“You can’t ask Ethan to do this, he hasn’t recovered from his wounds,” Nanako protested.
Bearing in mind what we had discussed on Tuesday about why we couldn’t ever go to Hamamachi, this order from Custodian command was the last thing we needed.
"This isn't an option, Mrs. Jones," he snarled. “And besides, he won’t be driving, just directing the convoy where to go.”
Nanako looked up at me for help, her eyes desperate. I gave my head the slightest shake. There was nothing we could do. The Custodians' orders were law.
"Fine, my foraging team and I will lead the convoy, Sir, but on two conditions," I replied.
"You aren't in any position to make demands, Jones." King appeared amused I had the presumption to say such a thing.
"Nevertheless, if you want this convoy to be able to fight off a Skel attack, I request that you reinstate me as leader of the foraging team and replace Cooper with Leigh Williams. And we'll need our bows and arrows back. You can hide them under our vehicles’ seats if you like."
"Leigh Williams is in prison."
"I need him, Lieutenant. He knows how to hunt and bring down Skel," I said, refusing to budge an inch. Actually, Leigh was the least capable of my team, but this was an opportunity to get him out of prison and I wasn't going let it pass by. "Perhaps Custodian Command could offer him a pardon on the condition he accepts this assignment, Sir."
I could almost see the cogwheels in King's brain turning as he considered my requests. "Fine," he finally grunted. "I'll see what I can do. I will pick up you at five sharp tomorrow morning."
"What, are you going too, Sir?" I asked, suddenly concerned. He was the last person in the world I wanted to accompany all the way to Hamamachi and back.
This time King did smile – a cold, merciless expression. "Oh yes, did I forget to mention it? I’m leading the Custodian team providing protection for the convoy."
"How long will we stay in Hamamachi, Lieutenant?" Nanako asked, her voice wavering.
“We? These orders are for Ethan and him alone,” King shot back.
“Sir, until Councillor Okada has returned to Hamamachi, I must continue in my role as his translator,” she said.
"I see. Well, the plan is to drop off our trade goods, pick up Hamamachi’s, and make the return journey.” King’s eyes suddenly narrowed. “Now that I come to think of it, with regards to you two, since Mrs. Jones has family there, you’re welcome to stay there until the next delivery run," he replied.
I looked at him in surprise – he was going let us stay behind if we chose? What was this, compassion and understanding from Lieutenant King?
“No thank you,” my wife replied without hesitation, “We will return with you, Sir.”
“Suit yourself,” King said, and then took his leave without so much as a goodbye.
After he had gone, Nanako took my hand, her eyes wide and fearful. "We can't go, Ethan, we just can't."
"We don't have a choice when it comes to the Custodians," I said sadly.
"Can we run away then, just the two of us? Get out of the city and go somewhere, anywhere but Hamamachi."
"This town's a fortress designed to do one thing," I answered gently, "and that's to lock its population inside. Except for the foragers, there's no way out."
"Then you have to feign sickness, or break your leg or something," she said, growing frantic, "Please Ethan, find a way out of this. It is too dangerous for you to return to Hamamachi."
“That’s not going to work.”
“Ethan, you got shot in Hamamachi, remember? Someone there tried to kill you. If you go back there, they will try again! You can’t go back.”
“I understand that, Nanako, but King’s given us a direct order. There’s no way around this.”
“No! I can’t face this, not again!” she said.
I tried to put my arm around her to console her, but she slipped out of my reach and fled into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.
I stood there, wondering what I should do, but the sound of her mournful sobbing broke my heart, so I opened the door and slipped in after her.
She was kneeling on the floor with her arms against the far wall and breathing so rapidly that she was gasping for air as she wept. If I couldn't calm her quickly she would hyperventilate in no time.
I pulled my arm out of the sling, knelt down beside her and wrapped myself around her back, ignoring the pain in my chest. "It's gonna be okay, Nanako, you have to trust me."
She turned around within my arms and took my face in her hands. "Do you have any idea what it's like to be happily married for just six short months, and then they bring your husband home on a stretcher one day, with such a terrible head wound and covered in so much blood that you can't even recognise him? Can you imagine what that was like?"
“No, I can't,” I replied, for I couldn't even begin to visualize what she had gone through. The last two years had been hard on me, but nothing like what she'd been through. I looked at her distraught face and it cut me up inside.
"Ethan, I can't go through that again, I just can't," she said as she broke into tears again, burying her head and arms against my chest.
I remembered how my father said she kept panicking when I couldn't remember her after she brought me to the hospital here in Newhome; sometimes panicking so badly the nurses had to tear her away from me. But this time it was different, because I was with her now and I wasn't gonna let go of her for any reason. So I just held her, and whispered to her reassuringly, "We're gonna be okay, Nanako, I'm never gonna leave you again." And we stayed there on that cold bathroom floor for a long time as I comforted her the best I could.
And it was with quantifiable sorrow that I realised the joy we had felt earlier at the prospect of repainting the flat had completely vanished.