It takes at least an hour before I've gotten enough of a hold on myself that I can tell her what happened. She knows about Anton of course. She was the one who took all my anger and sorrow when I was banished as the Government favourite and couldn't see him anymore. When I tell her that I'd done my best to forget about him she tilts her head to the side. "You can't forget someone if you love them. It's like getting your arm amputated and forgetting you ever had one. The arm will always have been a part of you, no matter how well you adapt to a life without it."
Afterwards, I sit quietly and stare at my closet until Garmen gets us some food and begins reading a magazine as I try to put out an internal crossfire. I have no idea how long I lie there, but at one point Ricardo comes to get us because rush hour starts in a couple of hours.
Garmen dresses in her usual angel costume although she puts on fishnet stockings and white stilletoes which makes her almost as tall as Sammie. I pull myself together and dress in purple with glitter lipstick and mascara to draw out my eyes. Then Barooba shuffles us into the line and opens the doors.
I'm chosen by a large man who uses a whole hour to ask me questions about whether I know who this Piece is. When I repeatedly answer that I don't, he grunts and leaves. When I tell Barooba about it she says that he's likely a narc visiting different brothels. He'll probably come back in a few days with a new coat and glasses to try his luck with one of the girls.
The night is still young, but customers after rush hour is scarce. I do a line of cocaine I buy from Alivia with a promise to share Gunnar's mix with her next time I buy some – I'm not going to reveal to her I am in the possession of gold – and we sit upstairs hidden by the staircase and listen for the door opening. She's tripping hard, keep telling me how happy she is to be alive, but I can barely feel it. Lately I've needed greater doses of drugs to get me high, but it's only once I take it I realize my heart isn't beating itself out of my chest anymore. I let out a deep sigh, the realization I might have a problem hitting me like a wall. I also know I'm not going to do anything about it. It would actually be an easy way to die: Take an overdose, let my heart arrest, die happy, almost like the last meal of the starving girls. Easier than cutting my wrists with a knife, and Garmen wouldn't blame herself because she'd think it was an accident.
I'm in such a dark hole that when Alivia kisses me, I'm so touch-starved I can't think of any reason not to kiss her back. We stumble backwards into my room, both forgetting that we're supposed to be at work, grabbing at each other's scarse clothes. Alivia is giggling, probably thinking I'm tripping just as hard as her when in reality I'm trying to devour her to fill up the empty the exploded mass left in my chest cavity. She thrusts me down on the bed, then takes off my underpants and begins working me until I'm hard and she can guide me into her. It's clear she knows exactly how a male body work, although she has to explore for a bit to find out where on my body her touch will set me off. And still I can't come.
She does, however. Cry out and rolls off me, her body going limp on the madras beside me.
"That was brilliant," she breathes although I hardly did anything. I don't even look at her, which ultimately leads to her rolling out of my bed and I hear her exit and close the door behind her. I don't have the capacity to worry about whether I've hurt her with my indifference. But maybe she's too high to have noticed. Instead I lie on my side and try to fall asleep while staring at the wall. I wish I had something to knock me out, a sleeping drought or something stronger. I end up trying to count sheep and awaken multiple times throughout the night.
At a point, I wake up from something I know was a nightmare because I'm tangled in my blankets and sweat makes my hair stick to my scalp. It takes me a good few minutes of preparing to shut my eyes again when I notice there is someone lurking at me in the corner. For a horrible, panicky moment I think I'm hallucinating Father George lurking in the shadows. My body lunges into a tremor I can't control, but then I realize it's not him and annoyance takes over from fear.
"What?" I grumble at Garmen who's staring at me like she wants to set me on fire. It doesn't happen often, but once in a century I do something which pisses her off so much she almost can't speak.
"You slept with Alivia!" she hisses as loud as she dares in these early hours of the morning and hits me as hard as she can on the shoulder.
"Ow!" I exclaim and she hits me again whereafter a storm of hands rain down on me. Garmen doesn't hit like a normal person, she smacks her palms against people like you do in kindergarten. It still hurts though, when she catches a particular good piece of skin. "Ow, stop it!" I say and grab her wrists.
"Get off me!" she hisses as I wrestle her down until she can't move anymore. She tries to kick me in the groin, but I sit myself down on her legs and hold them still.
"Stop hitting me!" I yell. "How do you even know already? Did she advertise it or something?"
"I met her in the bathroom washing off purple glitter," Garmen sneers. I open my mouth but close it again. Then I shake my head angrily.
"Look, Alivia was there. If it had been you there I would have slept with you too, or Brice, or Frei."
Garmen blinks. Then her face turns a new shade of red. "You think you hurt my vanity?" she hisses. "Alivia was exempted from work because Dr. Terry found tiny blisters by the edges of her mouth yesterday. She's being tested for herpes!"
I stare at her for the longest time as she waits for the news to settle on me.
"You're wrutting me," I finally say.
"Why, why, why would I joke that you might have herpes?" she asks. I frown, trying to find out how exactly I feel about that. Then I burst into laughter. I can't even stay crouching anymore so I roll to the side, folding myself into foster position as my stomach begins hurting. Garmen is looking at me as if I'm insane, which sends another jolt of laughter through me.
"Oh, this is priceless," I gasp and dry away a tear. "It's exactly what I need. To not be able to do my job anymore." Drug addicted, sick with herpes, an enemy of the Government. It's so tragic it's funny. They really did a number on me.
"Look, maybe you don't have it," Garmen begins. "You could have been lucky, or maybe Alivia doesn't have it, or, why are you laughing right now?"
And I am, just grinning like it's everything that's keeping me alive.
"Because there's nothing else I can do," I say after my laughter has finally settled down. "Except go out and get high, you want to come?"
Garmen looks at me. I know she thinks it's way too early in the morning, but from her hesitation I also know she's temped. After all, I better spend my gold before I decide how to off myself.
"Fine," she says. "I'll go get my shoes."
"I just have to do one thing," I say and roll off the bed. I'm still stark naked but it's nothing nobody has never seen before. I cross over the hallway and knock hard on the door I know belong to Alivia and Quills. Quills opens with a grimace and squints her eyes at me. Her hair is the best bird's nest lookalike I've ever seen.
"Hi Quills," I say. "Is Alivia here?"
"Why?" Quills grumps. I roll my eyes and is just about to explain when I notice Alivia rising from her bed. She must have taken a shower because her hair is wet and dripping on her t-shirt.
"Noah?" she grumbles and rubs her eyes. "What are you doing here?"
"I just wanted to congratulate you on the sex last night," I say loud enough everybody who's half-awake on the floor will hear it. Quills certainly reacts, her eyes widening involuntarily and she looks back at Alivia. "You could have told me you have herpes, but I guess I wouldn't think it was that important if I was high on cocaine while supposed to be at work. Have a great day!"
Then I turn around and walk back to my room where Garmen has stopped in the middle of putting on her shoes.
"That was not nice," she says but she's fighting a giggle and losing.
"Being nice is overrated," I say, feeling the rush of euphoria at realizing nothing ever matters fade. I grab a pair of pants and put a hoodie on before I stump my feet into my shoes, suddenly desperate to get out of there. Garmen takes some of the gold from the first bag and we're off before the rest of the Cave gets a chance to wake.
We go to the fighting cage to buy another batch of Gunnar's mix, the air refreshing enough I feel like I can mostly breathe again.
"I've added a new ingredient," he grins and winks at Garmen. "For flavor only, of course."
It takes more powder to get me high and lasts a shorter amount of time. I'm incredibly tempted to snort another line, but Garmen is with me and I don't want to worry her. Instead I make silent plans to take some more tonight after work is done. But when we get home, my plans are pushed out of my head at the state of the Cave.
Everybody are talking in over each other. Brice and Endria are in a shouting contest, Sammie, Quills, Ginnifer and Ki Aimi are discussing calmly but seriously. Carrie-Ann is crying in the corner with Ricardo, Alivia and, most surprising of all, Hannah trying to comfort her.
Frei rushes past us in a whirl of her dress and I reach out and catch her upper arm.
"Frei, what's going on?" I ask.
"You seriously haven't heard?" she asks with a huge grin as if the news is amazing and not something which would cause shouting and crying. "There was another interview with K and Piece. Apparently, we have a bestial Government." Then she lets out a giant, crazed laugh.
I let go of her arm, not able to maintain the control over the muscles in my hand. Garmen's fist is tightening in my jacket.
"They aired the interview," she says with barely more than a whisper, drowning in the turmoil. I keep my mouth pressed into a thin line. In the doorway to her office, Barooba is standing and quietly surveying the scene. Did I cross some sort of line? Was Minister Jacques' secret too much? I have to admit I don't know.
I'm about to grab Garmen and drag her up to my room when suddenly Hannah steps up on the refractory table.
"SHUT UP!" she shouts, her voice bouncing off the walls. She reaches out the remote and turns up the volume of the tv still running where an incredibly serious newscaster is still talking.
"...There has been no luck in tracking the submission, leaving the experts to wonder about its authencity. And Grenton, you're standing with one of these experts now." The screen shifts to a reporter standing outside what was once the Millennium Park of Chicago and now is a computer factory for smarties.
"Thank you, Donald. I am currently standing outside Chicago Electronics where people on the streets have been angry and shocked all day. With me is Dr. Gloria Jenkins who's an expert in Social and Political Stratagem, and Dr. Jenkins. What do you think is the reason behind this tv-series?"
"Well, Grenton," Dr. Jenkins says and leans forward so her mouth is almost grazing the microphone. "In my opinion, whoever aired this means for nothing more than to strike fear in the eye of the public. It's their sole purpose, to try and uproot our carefully woven society."
"I have to ask, Dr. Jenkins, are you calling this an act of terror?"
"In a way I believe it is," Dr. Jenkins nods. "We're at a height of human welfare. New technology and medicine has ensured that we don't have many health worries anymore. What we hear is the last desperate attempt at unsettling our harmonious way of life. And I'm urging everyone listening to use their common sense instead of taking these lies seriously. It's not only blasphemy, it's downright madness."
"Is she for real?" Alivia asks.
"She's obviously acting," Brice says. "Nobody can be that dense about what is going on."
"It's for the rich and the middle class," I say automatically and a few gazes turn to me but the words pours out of me. "Many of them view the Government as all benevolent, a vital organ which brings peace to the country. If it's true that they are corrupt to the core, everything the upper and middle class believe is a lie."
Nobody has any answer to that. On the tv, the reporter thanks the doctor and the screen returns to the newscaster just as it is turned off.
"That's enough," Barooba says, letting her arm with the remote she's taken from Hannah fall before she looks around with an expressionless face. "Rush hour begins in a few hours. Get downstairs and get ready."
Then she leaves.
"Well, you heard Barooba," Frei says after a minute of silence, and everyone slowly begins moving. I go to Barooba's office instead, thinking I've procrastinated enough today, and knock. When she opens, I tell her I may have an STD and she tells me that if Alivia's test comes back positive tomorrow she will have me tested too, but it's late and all I can do is hide upstairs as the others line-up.
I don't know what happens with the hours. I know I do a line of my quickly diminishing drug supply, but mostly I think I just stare at a wall, curling a nugget of gold between my fingers and half-daydreaming half-planning on running away. Of course, it would be harder to attain powder if I moved somewhere with no humans, but I could always take a trip to the city if I was running low, or Garmen could if she agreed to come with me. Out of nowhere, Anton's face pops into my head, but I shake it out. That hope was squished long ago and I won't fool myself into believing seeing him again is a possibility. I'm in the middle of a jungle of these thoughts when a loud beep makes me flinch – a beep from Barooba's office I wouldn't be able to hear from the Cave, but which I hear in my room as clearly as was it right next to me.
I launch off my bed and see Alivia coming out of her and Quills' room. We share one glance before we both bolt down the hallway and downstairs to the ground floor.
"Who-?" I ask as we run into Barooba on the way downstairs to the cave. She's walking as fast as she can, her hair standing out around her and she has her gun hanging down her side. It's moments like these I remember just how dangerous the Cave owner is.
"Room nine," she says. "It's Sammie."
Behind me, Alivia gasps. She might be a psychopath who gave me herpes, but Sammie is the best of all of us except for Garmen. Nobody touches her without getting punished.
Barooba pulls out a small square card connected to her pocket with string and puts it to the lock which immediately retracts and opens. Inside, a man wearing dark clothes is holding Sammie against the wall, a knife against her throat.
"Ple-ease," Sammie chokes, her face contorted in a mask of agony. "I-I don't know anythin'."
"You!" Barooba yells and lifts her gun so it points directly at the man's forehead. He takes a silent inhale and presses his mouth together. In his grasp, Sammie is trembling, and behind me, Alivia is digging her fingernails into my arm, hard enough it will leave crescent moons. I don't feel it. "Let go of her or you will lose your brain," Barooba says, an enormous amount of evenness in her voice.
The man sneers. Then he lets go of Sammie who falls to her knees, clenching her throat, and takes a step back. "Alivia," Barooba says. "Take Sammie upstairs and get her something to calm her down. I'll take care of this."
I think Alivia nods because she moves inside and crouches down beside Sammie who immediately grabs her friend's hands and let her help her up. Her breath is coming in gasps and I see the small puncture the man's knife has left in her throat is dripping dark red. She sobs as Alivia helps her outside.
"Noah," Barooba says. "Go and man the office, if there are any other incidents come get me."
"Barooba-" I say.
"Now!"
I let my head fall before I quietly walk out of room nine and close the door behind me. Then I wait for half a minute, but if there was a shot I'd be able to hear it, and all I hear is silence.
I move down the hallway and back upstairs where Alivia has huddled Sammie in a blanket and is in the middle of cleaning her neck wound.
"It was horrible," Sammie sniffles and dries her nose as I walk over and move into Barooba's office so I can hear if the panic button sounds again. Through the cracked-open door, I have no problem hearing the continuation of Sammie's story. "One moment he was all sweet-talkin' me and the next now I was pinned against the wall. And then he kept demanding I tell him who 'Piece' is. It was as if he was convinced Piece is from the Cave, which is bonkers because how could he know?"
Suddenly my legs give way underneath me and I sink into Barooba's chair. If that is in fact true, that a man somehow gained knowledge of my whereabouts, then maybe I have been more careless than I thought. Am I endangering people? Sammie could have gotten hurt, and it could easily have been Garmen the man had chosen and not her.
Then there is the prospect of him not having known and only guessed, which almost is almost scarier because that means similar stuff might be happening in all other brothels. Weirdoes with knives who come in and to to extract information from ignorant sex workers.
I exhale deeply and wish I could just walk upstairs and lie down. I think I doze off but then I hear the floor creak outside and Sammie and Alivia shutting up.
"The man has left and is not coming back," Barooba says, and I hear Sammie make a choking noise before a new wave of sobs erupts, followed by soothing words from Alivia.
Then the door to the office opens and Barooba appears in it.
"It's my chair," she says and I immediately rise. But I don't move out. Barooba exhales in understanding and nods at the bed. "Sit." I do.
She takes the office chair herself and begins cleaning her gun with small brushes from a drawer. It doesn't look to be overheating and I didn't hear a shot so I'm taking a wild guess that she didn't kill the man.
I have seen Barooba kill before. My old roommate, Smeet, once pressed the panic button. Her psycho customer had already stabbed her with a syringe when Barooba got inside and I could see over her shoulder that Smeet was lying with spasms ruling her body, hitting a lamp so it shattered onto the floor.
Barooba didn't even hesitate. She raised her gun and then the man fell. I didn't hear the shot, that was how unprepared I was for what had been about to happen. Then Barooba took Smeet's pulse as she lay wriggling, sweat springing out of her forehead. Barooba then went straight to another room where Brice was in the middle of giving oral to a woman. At that time, I hadn't seen Barooba interrupt a session before, which was how I realized just how serious it was with my roommate. But I didn't do anything but stare at her as she lay dying. Then Brice, wearing nothing but underpants, rushed past me and wrapped Smeet in the blankets of the bed before he lifted her up and followed Barooba upstairs and to what I believe was the middle part of the city in a hunt for a hospital, effectively leaving the rest of us with a dead body.
"We don't touch it," Endria said when all of us who were either done for the night or hadn't been chosen had gathered to stare at it. "We wait for Barooba. She'll know what to do."
Brice and Barooba came back in the morning when the body had already begun smelling of carcass and rot. Brice wordlessly shook his head and I realized I wouldn't have a roommate until the next desirability count. It turned out that was the month I went from the fourth most desirable one to the third, and so I didn't have to have a new roommate. Frei, whose place I'd taken, grudgingly had to welcome Ki Aimi when Barooba found her, but they quickly became great friends so sharing a room apparently wasn't that bad.
I have no idea what happened to either of the bodies.
"Noah, listen," Barooba says as she pulls a small elongated brush through the disassembled pieces of her gun. She has apparently decided the danger is over.
"Was it my doing?" I blurt out. Barooba looks at me for a long time as if she's considering her words very carefully. But then she shakes her head.
"No. The man is psychotic. He took a guess. He could have chosen any other brothel."
"That's part of the problem," I mumble and pull up my knee to rest my chin on it.
"I am aware of that," Barooba says. "But nothing happened. And we'll be extra careful from now on. Other brothels will have to do the same."
I stay silent, but when Barooba dismisses me and I head back to my room, I can't stop thinking about Smeet and the rotting man, the psychotic man from today and then Father George. I wake in the night bathed in sweat and with my heart pounding five-hundred miles per hour and this time I'm convinced I'm going to die.
The next morning, I do a line before Garmen comes and hauls me downstairs for a breakfast consisting of chicken noodle soup and thick bread to dip. The volume around the refractory table is deafening with Sammie showing off her small wound. She seems utterly fine, but then again; she's from Texas. They're hardcore motherwrutters over there.
Garmen wants to hear the whole story and I tell her everything I know, including the talk with Barooba which I make sure to keep in a low voice, although she has already guessed most of it from Sammie's story.
"Would you shut up?" Hannah hisses at all of us. Instead of joining us, she has been absorbed in the tv.
"Stop being a bitch Hannah," Ricardo says. "Could've happened to you."
"If it had been me I'd beg him to decapitate me," she sneers without looking up and turns up the sound.
"...doesn't look like it will subdue. The movement is spreading like wildfire and causing massive uproars in the street."
On the screen, the newscaster fades and badly-recorded clips of people smashing windows and spray painting walls pop up. The caption reads Chicago. Then the clip changes and is replaced by videos from a demonstration. The crowd is walking and chanting something I can't make out, but their signs give it all away. EXPLAIN!, DOWN WITH THE GOVERNEMT, WHAT ELSE ARE YOU HIDING?, LONG LIVE PIECE and many of the signs are shaped in puzzle pieces. The caption reads New York. Then something happens, shots ring out and the person recording says, 'Oh wrut' before there are a few seconds of running until the screen goes dark.
If it was chaos Alle aimed for, she sure as Hell is getting it.
"Coincidentally, the sale of bacon is skydiving, leaving the swine industry in turmoil of whether they will survive this movement."
"What. The. Effing. Hell," Hannah says. And I agree. The country has finally lost it.