The young, pretty one was the first one to finish washing
and presented her upheld hands to Officer Angelo for him to put on the
wristlocks. Then everyone waited quietly, listening to the splashing and
grunting of her friend who took forever to finish her ablutions. But she got
tired of her little game eventually and presented herself for lockup with a
challenging smile.
“Ain’t you gonna pat me down again? See if I got something
dangerous in my panties?”
Once again Officer Angelo felt the overwhelming urge to
finger his gun, but he didn’t dare show her he was anxious. He did breathe a
small sigh of relief when she was safely back in handcuffs though. After that a
long uncomfortable silence between the four of them ensued, where every sniff
and rustle of clothing could be heard. There were no magazines to read and
nothing to do except try not to look at one another. Out of sheer embarrassment
Sweet Mary was the first to break the ice.
“My name’s Marianne,” she blurted out, blushing furiously
at her bravado. “But everyone calls me Sweet Mary.” There was a long awkward
pause in which Sweet Mary died a thousand deaths, thinking no-one was going to
answer.
“My name is Righteous Alchemy.” His voice boomed out so
loudly in the empty room that Sweet Mary jumped in her seat. It took her a few
seconds to recover her poise.
“How do you do Mr
Alchemy?” she said as graciously as she could.
“I do fine thank you ma’m,” he said, mellowing his voice
to a low rumble of thunder. “But please call me Righteous.”
“Righteous,” she corrected herself.
“It is an honour to
be travelling with you, Sweet Mary,” he said. Sweet Mary blushed again and bit
her lip.
“And that’s Dutch,” she added quickly, noticing her friend
staring at Righteous.
“What you doing here?” Dutch demanded in her usual blunt
manner. “What did you do wrong?”
“Nothing,” answered Righteous.
“Yeah right. What you? A rapist? Murderer??”
“No,” he answered calmly. “I ain’t nothing really.”
Dutch looked enquiringly at Officer Angelo, waiting for
him to contradict Righteous. Criminals always pleaded their innocence.
“He’s an Oracle,” said Officer Angelo.
“What’s that?” said Sweet Mary.
“Someone who talks a lot of crap,” said Dutch. “So what
did you do wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“My arse.”
Officer Angelo watched this exchange with interest. He
really didn’t know who he would bet on if it came to a straight fight.
“As far as I know I didn’t do anything wrong. Even Officer
Angelo couldn’t tell you what I have done. You could say in a way that I have
chosen to be here; that I am here of my own free will.
“Yeah? Then why the cuffs?”
“It is not the chains that maketh a prisoner.”
“Say’s you,” said Dutch.
“I surrender to the path I am destined to take. I
surrender to life and what it brings me; therefore I am never at odds with my
circumstances. I am in harmony with my life, even if imprisonment is a part of
my life.
“It is only when you struggle against your destiny that
you become aware of your chains. I choose not to struggle. Captivity is a state
of mind; everyone is a captive of sorts. I am even freer than Officer Angelo,
because he is a captive of his job. Like you, he cannot do what he wants. So he
is a prisoner as much as you are.”
“Well you can’t
do what you want?” said Dutch.
“But I ‘want’ nothing, so I am free. I am only a prisoner
if I want to be somewhere else. And who knows, ‘somewhere else’ might be worse
than here. So I choose to live with the devil I know. No-one is actually free; it’s just a matter of degree. We are all slaves to our desires and needs, our
fears and phobias. But I ‘desire’ to be here, for I cannot be other than where
I am. Most people desire to be somewhere else and don’t even know they have
created a prison for themselves from which they long to escape. I know this
because none are happy, and all seek freedom even though they are not in jail.”
Righteous Alchemy felt grateful to the big woman for
asking him questions. Even if his answers weren’t making much sense to them, he
needed to talk. It helped keep him steady. He felt disorientated being away
from home. He had been born in the dome, and had never been outside of it.
Everything was strange and new and uncomfortable. For the first time in his
life he felt like a blind man. Nothing was familiar. The impressions he was
receiving were confusing. The smells and sounds were unidentifiable and
disturbing. Everything was harsh and hurried, sharp and urgent, and his
instincts were hard put to cope with such a big input of new sensory data.
He liked her; the aggressive woman; Dutch. She was full of
confidence, and although she was obnoxious, it felt good to be around her.
Officer Angelo too, had lived up to his name as an angel. He had been kind and
considerate; always explaining things to him so he did not feel too alienated
or uncomfortable. He always made sure he had enough to eat and drink.
The change in body weight was the most distressing element
though. Here on G.O.D. 5 he was subjected to more than three times the gravity
he was accustomed to, and he was exhausted by the effort of carrying around so
much extra weight. His walking was slow and ponderous, his muscles too weak to
carry such bulk, even when sitting or lying down; his breathing laboured and
painful, and his digestive system was refusing to work properly. He felt tired
all the time and just wanted to sleep. So he talked to take his mind off his
discomfort.
“Life is a bit like an arranged marriage. You don’t get to
choose who you are, but you do have a choice as to how you face your fate. You
can either make the best of who and where you are, or live your life in denial
and suffering.
“Happiness for most people lies only in the future, or in
the good old days…in some other time…in some other place….but never now, and
here. I am happy being here now. You are not. So I am the only free person
here.”
“Rubbish. You’re living in a fool’s paradise,” said Dutch.
“Is there any other type? So, I am a fool for being happy.
And you are a wise woman for being miserable? That is not wisdom, that is
cynicism.”
“I’m going to be executed; that’s why I’m unhappy.”
“No. You’re unhappy because you feel guilty for what you
have done. That man of yours was just looking to be killed.
Dutch looked up at him sharply, wondering how he knew
that.
“He goaded and taunted and bullied you until you gave him
what he was looking for, release from his agony. He was a deeply disturbed and
unhappy man who blamed the whole universe for his troubles and was looking for
an easy way out; but too cowardly to do it himself. You were the innocent one
and he played you for a patsy. He got what he wanted and you got all the
blame.” Righteous Alchemy paused and pursed his lips.
“You should think of your actions rather as an assisted
suicide than murder. He was longing for death, and you helped give it to him.
Sooner or later somebody was going to kill him.”
There was a long silence as everyone lapsed into their own
thoughts; but Righteous had got under Dutch’s skin and she couldn’t seem to
settle back into her normal sulky silence.
“So what’s it say in the file?” she asked Officer Angelo,
just for something to say. “They gonna hang us or what?”
Dutch saw the frightened look that Sweet Mary threw at her
and she knew she had let her mouth run away with her.
“Never mind. Don’t really want to know,” she mumbled.
“No-one’s going to get hanged,” said Righteous in a
sepulchral voice, “Especially not you, nor Sweet Mary.” Whether this statement
was true or not it had the desired effect, and Sweet Mary smiled at Dutch.
“See. He should know. He’s an oracle.”
“Yeah, and I’m the queen of England
“Well, I can’t
tell what’s going to happen in the future,” said Officer Angelo, sensing the
building frustration and anger in Dutch, “but I think maybe we could all do
with a change of scene. How about a walk?”
“Oh yay,” said Dutch in a flat unexcited monotone.
“That should be nice,” said Sweet Mary.
“Will you stop being so bloody cheerful,” shouted Dutch
and Sweet Mary bit her lip and finally burst into tears.
Dutch was feeling like she had this uncontrollable
masochistic streak; the moment everything was going fine her mouth stepped in
and ruined it.
“I’m sorry,” she said, putting out her manacled hands to
comfort Sweet Mary. “I didn’t mean to say that. I’m just in a shit mood.”
“That’s okay,” said Sweet Mary, forever forgiving, and
gave Dutch a tearful smile.
“Okay everyone, on your feet. There’s an exercise room
down the hall. Do you all good.”
Righteous Alchemy groaned at the prospect of having to
walk again and struggled painfully to his feet.
