Ellie decided she had to ask about loyalty. Joe was cleared by the company, and was probably not lying, but Ellie still had to ask. Not hearing he was loyal from Joe himself was probably why she was still feeling a little distrustful.
It was tricky, though, asking. It was rude, very rude. Loyalty wasn’t really something people talked about any more, rather, they just assumed it wasn’t there and everyone could be bought and sold. But people like Ellie and Sameh and Joe, they had to have loyalty. To one another, out here in the field, if to no-one else.
Ellie needed to ask about loyalty, and to do so she needed to point out Joe’s social identity, the set of markers of his genetic heritage like skin colour and language and dietary and sexual preferences that might lead others to make assumptions about him, and which polite people didn’t mention, or even notice, about other polite people, not ever.
Ellie needed to mention Joe’s, if only to explain why she was asking about his loyalty. In effect, she needed to say that she didn’t trust him just because of the shape of his face, and doing that was tricky. Asking about such things, even mentioning one’s own assumptions about another’s social identity, that was just impossibly rude. It was rude to a degree that Joe would be quite entitled to climb in his SUV and drive away, but Ellie still needed to ask.
She needed to know, so she could be sure in her own mind that she could trust Joe. She decided she would just have to do it.
“I need to ask something,” Ellie said.
Sameh looked up, and saw Ellie’s face, and sighed.
“Stop it,” Ellie said to Sameh. Then to Joe, she said, “I’m sorry, but I have to ask.”
He shrugged. “Go on.”
“Doing here what you’d be doing there,” Ellie said. “That isn’t quite true.”
Joe looked at her for a moment, and didn’t seem to understand what she meant. Of course he didn’t understand, Ellie thought. Probably no-one had pointed this out to him in years, just like no-one had to Ellie. When Joe obtained his company clearance, his background would have got him investigated incredibly thoroughly, but no-one would have actually said that to Joe, and no-one would have said why. People did what they needed to, but they were polite about it while they did.
Everyone except Ellie. She wasn’t going to be polite at all.
“You said you’re just doing here what you’d be doing over there,” Ellie said, feeling awkward.
“I did. I am.”
“But not quite, though,” Ellie said. “Is it? It’s not quite the same.”
“It’s the same.”
“No,” Ellie said. “Because these aren’t just hajjis, here. They’re people like you.”
Then Joe understood. Ellie saw his face go tense. He stood there, and didn’t answer, and thought about what she meant.
“Same names,” Ellie said, to be clear. “Same language. Same faces.”
“Their faces are like mine. But they’re still not my people.”
“So you say.”
“I’m not completely sure what you mean,” Joe said, tightly.
He looked uncomfortable. He looked like he’d rather Ellie had asked him when he last had a shit, and in some ways Ellie would rather she had too. She felt awful. Anyone would be awful, taking about this. It just wasn’t pleasant for either of them.
“I mean convince me,” Ellie said. “Make me believe you.”
Joe looked at Sameh. He didn’t say a word, but Ellie understood. If the concern of divided loyalties was so great, he meant, why were Sameh’s loyalties not being questioned too. There were still hajji revolutionaries around Měi-guó, seeking to establish their caliphate. Sameh could as easily be sympathetic to them as Joe was to the debt resisters.
“I know her,” Ellie said. “I love her. I don’t know you.”
Joe nodded.
“And more important,” Ellie said. “I need to know there aren’t any tangled loyalties that might make you pick a side that isn’t me.”
“There aren’t. I won’t.”
“And again…” Ellie said.
“So I say?”
Ellie nodded. “They’re still your people. And I’m sorry, but that bothers me.”
“They’re not my people.”
Ellie kept looking at him.
“What’s my people?” Joe said. “This county? This town? I don’t know anyone here any more. Everyone I grew up with has left or died, all except my parents.”
Ellie nodded. This was helping. “Keep talking,” she said.
“The country?” Joe said. “What used to be America? I never agreed with the debt settlement, I never wanted it, and I’d have fought rather than accept it, but that wasn’t my choice. So fuck that, but America’s gone now too. I don’t have a people.”
Ellie looked at him, thinking.
“My family is my people,” Joe said. “That’s all I have. So I’ll do what you need me to do to help my family. That’s all there is to it.”
“Even against someone you know?” Ellie said. “Someone who’s from here?”
“Of course.”
“Even against your old best friend from school, say, who’s now my enemy?”
“Is she?” Joe said.
“What?” Ellie said, puzzled.
“Do you know something about her?” Joe said. “Is that why you’re asking me so many questions?”
“No,” Ellie said.
“You are asking me a lot of questions, though,” Joe said, still thinking. Almost as if he’d rather be talking about anything except social identity, which he probably would.
“She’s always like this,” Sameh said. “She did this to me, too, back in the day.”
“I’m careful,” Ellie said. “That’s all.”
“You’re rude,” Sameh said.
“Hush,” Ellie said to her.
“She’s Australian,” Sameh said to Joe. “That’s why. They’re all like this.”
“Stop it,” Ellie told her.
“But about my high-school friends…” Joe said. “You don’t have specific intel about anyone particular from my past?”
Ellie shook her head.
“That’s the truth?” Joe said.
“Yes,” Ellie said. “It’s the truth. I’m just asking what would happen. Hypothetically. Just in case.”
“Rudely,” Sameh said.
“Quiet,” Ellie told her, and looked back at Joe.
“I don’t know what to tell you,” Joe said. “You’ve hired me. Or your employer has. So I’ll do what you need me to. I don’t know what else to say.”
Ellie thought a moment longer, and then decided Joe seemed honest. They way he was talking about this was reasonable. He was offended, a little, but only the right amount. His voice sounded truthful, and his story all made sense, and Sameh was still glancing at her tablet, which hadn’t said he was lying.
Ellie had begun with a feeling that Joe was honest, and that feeling was part of why she’d been so suspicious. She didn’t like to just trust her instincts, because instinct could be manipulated, but now she had her instinct and she had some evidence too. She decided she would trust Joe, at least for now.
“Okay,” Ellie said. “That’s fine. What you’ve said’s enough. Sorry to be nosey.”
Joe shrugged.
“Sorry to be rude,” Ellie said again.
“It’s fine.”
Ellie thought about holding out her hand, and offering to shake his, but she didn’t in the end, because assuming he’d want her to, or care, was just as bad as assuming he was a criminal because of his background.
“You pass,” Ellie said instead.
“Good,” Joe said.
Then they all just stood there for a moment. Sameh put her tablet away, but nothing seemed to be happening.
Joe was waiting, Ellie realized. She was supposed to be in charge.
“We’re good?” Ellie said.
Joe nodded.
“So let’s go,” Ellie said, suddenly impatient. “Come on. Let’s do this.”
To Ellie’s relief, Joe grinned.