Chapter 25: Chapter 25

The drive to the border of the Nation of Quebec took another three days, longer than expected, but caution kept them from taking a more direct route. Along the way, Rain and Adam were careful of Seth’s feelings. Unlike their friends, they were able to satisfy their longing for one another with subtleties--a knowing glance, a touch of fingers while passing an object from the front seat to the back, a small smile in the rear view mirror. Seth was a kind person, and he had done right by them, doing so much more than he was obligated to. He could’ve left Rain on the riverbed to die. He could’ve pointed them in the right direction and wished them well. Instead, he was sacrificing so much to take them across several unknown lands that even he had never visited before so that he could ensure their safe arrival. The last thing in the world Rain wanted to do was hurt him.

But he knew. It was evident that he did. She could see it in the way that he looked at her, in the way he looked at Adam. He never said anything, not a word, but over the three days it took for them to travel the rest of the way, it was evident that Seth was hurt and that Rain’s relationship with Adam was the cause.

They had almost arrived at their destination before she got up the nerve to ask him what he planned to do next. Ahead of them, a line of vehicles waited to cross through the checkpoint between the no-man’s-land they’d been traveling through and the Nation of Quebec. A large wall separated the two areas, towering in the air at least twenty feet. The exterior of the wall had a smooth flat surface that Rain could see reflecting the midday sun from miles away. It was made of white concrete, and as far as she could tell, it went on forever. There was no way anyone was getting through that wall without going through a checkpoint because it would be impossible to scale such a surface, and as far as she knew, the entire border of the nation was surrounded by it. Security was a huge priority to the nation. Quebec was one of the countries that had begun international trade again, finally beginning to recover after the war.

As they sat in line, she quietly asked Seth, “What are your plans now, assuming they let us in?”

He stared straight ahead, his eyes vacant. She knew he heard her, but he was contemplating a response. “I’ll go with you,” he finally said, his voice not much more than a whisper.

He was the only one with papers. The other four of them would have to tell the guards at the gate their story and hope they’d be let in. She assumed they’d be detained. With any luck, they’d be granted a hearing with the prime minister, though she wasn’t certain when that might happen because she had to assume he was a very busy man, and she would likely have to speak to other officials before she got to the top. Rain was willing to do whatever she needed to do in order to convince the Nation of Quebec to go into Michaelanburg and help free the citizens there, both male and female, who were being treated unfairly in more ways than Rain could ever possibly count.

Anxiety bubbled up inside of her as they approached the gate. The driver of the car in front of them was speaking to a man in a dark blue uniform with a hat and badge that indicated he was some sort of military official, though she didn’t see a firearm on him. She had to assume that armed guards were nearby.

All of their weapons were in the very back of the truck so that the guards wouldn’t see them and feel threatened. Rain expected them to be confiscated. Whether any of them would ever see their weapons again, she wasn’t sure. She would need a gun because she would be going back to Michaelanburg, hopefully with a large force of Quebecian military, but if not, she would still have to return to her homeland and do what she could to set the others free.

The car ahead of them pulled forward through the gate, and then it was their turn. Seth took a deep breath and slowly moved the truck forward, his papers in his hand. Technically, the officials didn’t even have to let him in. Just because he had proof that he was a citizen of Oklasaw, a country Quebec had no quarrel with at the moment, that didn’t mean they’d have to allow Seth through the gate.

Seth’s window was down. When the official spoke, it was in a language Rain didn’t know. Apparently, Seth wasn’t fluent either because whatever he said caused the official, a tall man with dark hair sticking out around his military cap, to pull a device from the pocket of his blue jacket.

“Papers please,” the man said, speaking so that the device could translate his words into the language Seth, Rain, and the others spoke, which had a few names depending upon where one lived, but Rain was brought up to call it Michaelan. She’d forgotten that Canation was spoken in Quebec. Thank goodness for translators.

“I have my papers here,” Seth said, his words filtering through the device so that the other man could understand them, “but these four have no papers. I’m sure you’ve heard of the escapees from Michaelanburg?” The official’s eyes widened, but he did not confirm or deny the assumption. “The four of them have escaped the Mothers. They are seeking asylum in the Nation of Quebec and a word with Prime Minister Bissett.”

The man took Seth’s papers and looked them over before he said, “Hold here.”

There was no place for Seth to go anyway since there was another, larger truck behind him, and the gate before them was closed. The official carried Seth’s papers with him as he went into the guard house to speak with more uniformed men and women. When the door opened, Rain caught a glimpse of them. Everyone inside the small building built between two lanes of roadway, one for entering and one for exiting the nation, was armed with automatic weapons.

The guard was gone for a very long time. Rain felt sorry for the people waiting patiently behind them who could’ve probably been at their final destinations by now if it weren’t for them delaying everything. When the guard finally returned with Seth’s papers in his fist, he wasn’t alone. Five other armed soldiers were with them. “Everyone out of the vehicle, please,” the original guardsman said through his device. “Do you have any weapons on you?”

“No,” Seth said. “There are some in the truck bed, though.”

Rain slowly opened the door, taking her time and not making any quick movements. A woman came around to her side of the vehicle and patted her down so thoroughly Rain felt slightly violated. When she was done, the female officer, a woman who looked to be about ten years older than Rain with her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail beneath her military hat, said through a device, “You may turn around and lean against the vehicle.” The rest of the party had been treated similarly. Rain caught Adam’s eyes as he turned to lean against the rear passenger door, and he gave her a small reassuring smile.

“What is your name?” the female official asked her.

“Rain Gretchintown,” she said, hating that she still had to use that last name. She heard Adam explain that he didn’t have a name, rattle off his number, and then say that he preferred to be called Adam Blue. When he’d adopted that last name, she wasn’t sure, but she didn’t mind it.

“Where are you from?” the official asked her, taking notes on a different device as the translator hung from a cord around her neck.

“Gretchintown, Michaelanburg,” Rain answered. The thought that she might shortly find herself on a transport back to that very place entered her mind. She prayed they could trust these people. Had they heard about the insurrection, as Seth had suggested? Did they know that Spanish-America had moved against Michaelanburg?

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-one.” The questions continued. Date of birth, height, weight, reason for wanting to enter Quebec, finally the official asked Rain her parents’ names. “I don’t know,” she said.

That response got a bit of sympathy from the hardened official. It didn’t linger, but it was there just the same. “Come with me,” the woman said as her face returned to stone.

The others were led along with her, and Rain heard Seth’s engine start as another official moved the truck out of the way. Where they were going, none of them knew, but they had no choice but to cooperate.

A male military official led them to a door in the wall next to the gate, one that required both a thumb and eye scan to open. All of them trailed inside, along with the armed officials. They passed through the wall and through another door with the same sort of scanner, and then, Rain took her first steps into the country she’d been longing to reach since the rebellion had begun.

She didn’t have long to relish that first step as the officials led her on at a quick pace. They continued on foot for a few moments past several buildings near the wall, all of them clearly government buildings, based on their concrete structure and the few people Rain could see walking in and out of them. Hardly any windows gave a clue as to what might be going on inside of the buildings since that would make the structures weaker than solid concrete. She could only imagine it took a lot of military personnel to keep people out of this lovely, free country that wouldn’t fit in there. Criminals, those with political views that differed from the ones held by the persons currently in power--possibly escapees from enemy lands.

They were led into a long two-story building, through another door with a scanner, and down a dimly lit hallway to holding rooms. Each of them was deposited into a different small room with only a desk and two chairs beneath a light bulb adorned with a flimsy white shade hanging from the ceiling.

“Have a seat,” the official told Rain. “Someone will be with you shortly.”

“Thank you,” Rain said, managing a smile, though she was growing scared that this wasn’t going to turn out the way that she had hoped. What if she never even got a chance to plead her case to an official high enough up the chain that he or she could make a difference?

The female official smiled at her, which calmed Rain a bit, and then left the room. When the door snapped closed with a resounding thud, the nerves were back.

Rain sat in the small room for what seemed like an eternity. At first, she spent her time thinking about what she might be asked, how she should answer, worrying about her friends, wondering if Seth’s interrogation would take longer because he’d helped them or if he’d be out sooner because he wasn’t from Michaelanburg. Eventually, she began to grow weary of sitting in the uncomfortable wooden chair, and laid her head on the table. When the door finally opened, Rain sat up, nearly raising her hands in a defensive nature until she remembered where she was and that she needed to be cooperative. Realizing she must have fallen asleep, she wiped at a bit of drool in the corner of her mouth and tried to find a smile for the people who had entered.

There were three of them, though it seemed two were just there for the protection of the third. These two, a man and a woman, wore the same uniforms as the officials who had escorted them in. The other man, a rigid looking fellow who had graying brown hair at his temples, visible below his hat, looked like the sort of person one didn’t mess around with. His uniform was a dark brown, and he had several pins on his lapel.

He sat a bottle of water and the translating device on the table and then pulled out the other chair across from Rain, studying her. “Rain Gretchintown?” he asked her.

Rain nodded before she managed, “Yes, sir.” It was odd using that word--sir. It had almost fallen out of their language since no one ever needed it for anything in Michaelanburg.

“I am Lt. Gordon Laurant. It is my understanding that you are an escapee from the country of Michaelanburg and that you are seeking asylum in the Nation of Quebec, and that you are also seeking an audience with Prime Minister Bissett. Is that correct?”

“Yes, sir,” Rain said again, her voice cracking slightly as she answered.

Lt. Laurent slid the bottle of water to her.

Rain was surprised, thinking it had been for him, but she thanked him and opened it with shaking hands before she took a sip.

“I would like for you to explain to me, in as detailed a fashion as possible, what took place during the resurrection in Michaelanburg. I would like to know every part you played, where you’ve been for the last several weeks since the insurrection, how you’ve survived, and what your plans are now.”

Rain stared at him for a second. It was an overwhelming task, recounting everything that had transpired since the day she had agreed to help Mist free the men of IW. But… she knew she needed to tell the lieutenant everything without leaving out any details because otherwise, he might not see her urgency. He might not recognize how horrific the conditions were, not only for the men of Michaelanburg but also for the women who’d been left behind as well.

Without a clock in the room, it was difficult for Rain to judge how long she’d been speaking, but she assumed it had to have been at least two hours. By the time she got to the part where they’d reached the border, and she’d ended up here, she was exhausted from all of the effort she’d put into the retelling. But then, the hardest part was left to be said. He wanted to know what she intended to do now.

Rain spun the nearly empty water bottle around between her fingers for a few moments as she contemplated how to answer that portion of the question. The officer had hardly spoken since she’d begun talking, though she realized he was recording everything through the translator, so if they had questions about anything she’d said, they could go back over it later. Now, he stared at her with narrowed brown eyes, waiting for the last part. He knew there was no need to repeat himself. She was aware that she needed to tell him what she wanted from them--from this country. She just had to sort out all of the thoughts and feelings circulating around inside of her before she could form them into coherent sentences.

“What I want now… is to go back,” Rain began, watching his eyebrows arch. “I have to go back. Sure, it would be easy to ask for asylum here, indefinite shelter, perhaps even a path to citizenship. I have heard enough about Quebec to know this place is nearly utopia compared to what I’m used to, compared to the place I want to return to. But I don’t want to go back to hide my head in the sand and pretend that the indoctrination of all women to believe that men are inferior, worthless animals is correct. I have to go back so that I can finish what we started.”

He spoke then. “You want to… free the others? The men?”

Rain nodded. “Yes, I definitely want to free the men, but it’s more than that. The women, too. It’s not fair, sir. The way we were raised, the way that we were taught to believe so many things that are just… well, wrong. Unless you’ve been there, it’s difficult to understand just how thoroughly we are all brainwashed from the time we are born until the day we die, whether that’s through natural means or through the ridiculous Bridge they scare us with from infancy. No one should have to live like that, having their entire life dictated to them by those who only wish to control them.” She shook her head as tears began to form in her eyes. His face was resolute, and it was impossible for her to tell whether or not she was getting through to him.

Sucking in more air, Rain made the best argument she could. “Adam had never felt the rain until he escaped. He’d never seen the sun, never stood on the grass. He’d never gone to sleep in a bed that wasn’t piped full of gas to make him sleep and wake on their schedule. And you know, sir, I don’t think I ever truly felt the rain either until I broke free from the Mothers and realized life isn’t something that happens to us; it’s not a series of moments that pass by as we age and get one minute closer to death. It’s what we make of it--when we can choose to do the things that we want to do. Rain isn’t just water that falls on us from the sky and inconveniences us sometimes on our way from point A to point B. Rain is renewal; it’s the promise that life goes on, a reminder that we shape the world with our actions and our choices just as water shapes the world around us. Can you imagine, sir, going through life without ever experiencing any of that? Living and dying inside of a stone structure with no windows or doors that let you see what’s really out there? That’s not just what men experience in Michaelanburg. That’s what we all experience. That’s what I experienced. Four walls built around my mind. I don't ever want another human being to have to go through what I did--man, woman, no one.” She looked him in the eyes, hoping that he understood how desperately she meant every single word.

Lt. Laurent stared at her for a moment before he finally cleared his voice and stood. “Thank you for your time, Ms. Gretchintown.” He took the device and turned toward the door, and the three of them exited without so much as a goodbye.

Rain’s eyes locked on the concrete door as she tried to decipher what would happen next. Was that it? Would he return shortly and tell her they were being taken back to Michaelanburg? Or send someone else? She had no idea, but she felt like what she had done simply wasn’t enough.

She hadn’t been clear enough. She hadn’t managed to put her words into meaningful phrases or convey the urgency of the situation in a way that made him understand they had to do something to help. She hadn’t even mentioned the fact that she wanted to ask the prime minister to send forces along with her.

Feeling defeated, Rain dropped her head on the table again and hoped that at least one of her friends had been more convincing than she had been. With her luck, she’d be stuck in this room for the rest of her life….

It wasn’t nearly as long this time before the door opened again as it had been the first time. Startled, Rain sat up, her eyes wide. She hadn’t been expecting anyone so soon.

It was a woman, maybe about her age, in a navy blue skirt and jacket with a white shirt beneath. She, too, looked official, but not quite military. She had a smile on her face, but that meant nothing to Rain at this point. With a translator dangling around her neck, she said, “Ms. Gretchintown, please follow me.”

Drawing in a deep breath, Rain did as she was asked and stood, her chair screeching across the concrete floor as it pushed back from the table. She stepped out into the hallway and followed the woman down the long hallway. They wound their way toward the far end of the building, way in the back, nearest the border wall, and then they stopped at a large exterior door. Above the exit, there was a word written in Canation, and even though she couldn’t read it, Rain felt panic welling up inside of her as her eyes focused on the menacing word. “What does that say?” she asked the woman who was approaching an armed guard standing at the door.

The woman turned to her with a soft expression and said, “It reads, ‘Transport.’”

Rain swallowed hard. That was exactly what she had been afraid of.