ASSOCIATION / CH. 20: INTERVIEW.
WEDNESDAY, 24TH JAN.
Ralph knocked at Maria's office door.
“Come in, Ralph, how can I be of service?”
“Slightly unusual request from the U.N.'s information department.”
“Oh, yes? What do U.N. propaganda want from us this time?”
“A truth-sayer.”
“Really Don't they have any there?”
“They don't know, and they're not particularly happy about that. They know we're a lot more organised than they are in that respect, and they've got an interesting case. Passport application. And actually we know a bit more about it than they do, or at least, more than they're telling, based on joining a few dots. Here's the brief.”
Maria read the report. “Thought-hearer already acting as a double agent, eh? No wonder it's tricky.”
“Yes. The People's State ambassador's just been gloating about his dutiful daughter being a translator at the U.N., and we know his son is visiting him, too. So its almost certainly her.”
“So, the U.N. would like us to provide someone to question her and see which handler she's really loyal to?”
“Yes.”
“I think we can probably help out there. How soon do they want the interview?”
“Well, as soon as possible, really. There's the other question.”
“Yes?”
“Whose passport does she actually want. U.N. doesn't care, she might not know she's got an option. If she wants ours, which might make sense, given the politics, having someone able to interview her on the spot would be good, too.”
“Someone from auditing would be best, don't you think, if there happened to be one nearby?”
“Oh, certainly! I didn't think they travelled.”
“Some do. I'll just talk to the threesome, see if we can borrow one of their rising stars. Can you wait outside?”
“Oh, of course.”
----------------------------------------
Maria rang the triumvirate's office and got Helen Pew.
“Hi Helen. Question for you; about one of your rising stars.”
“Oh, yes?”
“Name begins with V. Truthsayer. She's arrived, I presume?”
“Yes. We're giving her some days to get over jet-lag before she starts on the exchange programme.”
“Excellent! Can the U.N. borrow her to interview someone? They want a truthsayer.”
“Is she one? Officially, I mean.”
“No idea. I know I asked that everyone in Security get themselves registered. Whether she had time or not, I don't know.”
“You're happy with the security of their database and procedures, I presume?”
“Yes. I know most of the founding members, they've had the right training, they're suitably paranoid and they won't let me see who's on the membership list, for example.”
Helen laughed. “Doesn't that irk?”
“Not really. It shows they're applying need to know. What I'm not sure about is if one of us should put the request to her directly, or if it should go via their channels. I tend to think the former, since we're not just requesting any truthsayer.”
“Oh, certainly. There's a particular reason it needs to be her?”
“It needs to be someone who can keep secrets. We know she can. Full briefing is also need-to-know, but the interviewee is female.”
“Our info, or U.N?”
“Mixture, but they're sharing, at least partially, and forgot to ask us if we could add anything. Not that ours is particularly secret.”
“Oh lovely! Yes, good call. I presume you're going to feed her the info somehow, so you might as well handle the assignment.”
“I will, assuming you can let me know contact details for her.”
“I thought you knew everything, Maria.”
“I try not to, Helen. That's your job.”
Helen laughed, and forwarded the information.
“Thanks.”
“It's not going to be traumatic, is it?”
“Shouldn't be. She's just hoping for a new passport country.”
----------------------------------------
Vivian looked blearily at her ringing wrist unit. She recognised the number: Security. She also looked at the clock so much for only having half an hour's nap.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Vivian. Maria here, sorry for waking you up.”
“How did you know I was asleep?”
“Your voice. Was it a rough night?”
“Oh. Yes, it was, well, short. I've just slept two hours when I planned to grab thirty minutes doze.”
“I presume you're in a secure place, then.”
“Yes.”
“Great. U.N. want a truthsayer. First question, did you get a mask, and second one, would I be able to persuade you to go have a little chat with a young lady down at the UN headquarters?”
“Yes, and when?”
“Sometime in the next twenty-four hours, soon as possible really.”
“OK. So, excuse my confusion, is an official truthsayer outing, or something for Internal Security?”
“Yes, both. Well, it's pretty much an Auditing interview really. She's planning on transferring her allegiance, getting a passport in a free country. She's strongly suspected of being a thought hearer, and this is where it gets exciting, she's been at the U.N. with the blessings of her current passport country as spy-cum-ambassador in training, but has actually been covertly working on U.N. propaganda. But her spy-handler has just told her to drop the ambassador idea, get involved in the propaganda side of things and get a passport for herself and her eighteen year old brother, and be a permanent spy. She's apparently been quite open about this with her boss in the propaganda department, but since her spy handler's her mother, there's not exactly going to be a clean break with her past. U.N would really like to know where her loyalties really lie. Oh, the other bit of news is that her dad is the ambassador here, and her brother's here at the moment. It's entirely possible that this is an attempt by the parents to get the whole family to defect, when they think the kids might still be loyal, alternatively it might be a way to keep the kids out of a future war. Either way, it's complicated by them growing up in a country where hiding true emotions, pretending to be loyal when you're not and so on is very much a survival skill. Having been through their spy school she's probably even better than most.”
“Wow! That is a challenge!”
“So, like I said, it seems like a job for an Auditor, who also happens to be a truthsayer.”
“It does. Anything else I should know?”
“Probably. Oh! I'm just being reminded: she may not realise this, but since it's a U.N. guy she's talking to, she can ask for a passport from pretty much any free country. If you pass her, then offer her one of ours, it'd save her an interview. If there is going to be a war, then given that we've got one of the better relationships with her home country, she might be prefer us to some of the other countries, who are probably suggesting turning her homeland into a radioactive wasteland about now.”
“Have I missed something dramatic on the news?”
“Not made it to the news yet, praise God. Intelligence reports are that there was almost an attempt at a first strike while the world was watching the interceptor go off course.”
“Eeek.”
“Exactly. The dreams gave us enough clue to let them know they wouldn't get away with it. But she knows about some of it at least, so you can talk to her about it too, if it helps.”
“Thank you. So, all I need to do is make sure she's telling her contacts at the UN the truth, then if she passes, offer her and her brother a passport, and of course talk about the chartered association of truthsayers, and how we're a friendly people?”
“Exactly. Personally, I'd take about a month on part one and still not be sure. I'll give you the contact details for the right person at the U.N.”
“What would the U.N. guards think about me turning up in my mask?”
“I have absolutely no idea. You can name an alternative location if you like, but given how sensitive the discussion is going to be...”
“Yes. I'd like a nice safe interview room.”
----------------------------------------
WEDNESDAY, LATE AFTERNOON.
“Lilly? Can I have word?” Dwight asked.
“How about 'orange?'.” Lilly replied.
“Pardon?”
“You wanted a word, that's one.”
Was she teasing? He tried again “Can you and I please have a private discussion?”
“Oh? Why didn't you say?”
“I did.”
“Oh.” she replied, keeping a straight face.
When she was in his office, he said “Your application for a passport...”
“Refused?” she asked, going pale.
“No, but I got grilled yesterday. Summary is you're too good at keeping me guessing, and running circles round me. Like the orange.”
“Sorry. It was a joke.”
“I thought so. But I wasn't sure.” He shrugged. “So you're going to be interviewed by someone else in excruciating detail, I'm afraid. It's out of my hands. An expert's coming to try and analyse where your loyalties really lie.”
“Excruciating detail doesn't sound pleasant. It means torture, back home.”
“No! They won't torture you.”
“So, some kind of long complex lie detector test?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Too easily fooled. Your own fault really. They're going to set one of your sort on you.”
“What, a woman?”
“That too. A thought hearer.”
“Oh, you worked that out, finally?” a smile crept to her lips.
“Yes. They're apparently sending a fully-fledged truthsayer, complete with 'let no lies pass' mask, and she knows you have that capability too.”
“Do you think I've been lying?”
“I think you've been ridiculously open with me, but your mother thinks you're her dutiful daughter. You're convincing one of us a pile of lies. In other words, you're a double-agent. I'm pretty sure it's her that's getting fooled, but... You know?”
“Yeah, I'm too good at hiding things, aren't I? From myself too. Like why did I leave the waiter that serviette?”
“The waiter? Don't know. He wanted to give it to me, you know. I thought he should give it back to you.”
“So, after I went home, what happened?”
“Ask Laura.”
“She's not here.”
“I walked her home.”
“Romantic. And then?”
“Then I went home.”
“What, she didn't invite you in for a coffee?” Lilly teased.
“No!”
“No lingering kiss on the doorstep?”
“Lilly!”
“Not even a `let's do this again?'” she asked, in desperate tones.
“Actually...”
“Yes?”
“There's an opening for a chaperone this evening.”
“Why do you need a chaperone? Afraid that Laura's going to ply you with her feminine charms, clutch you to her ample bosom and lead you to ecstatic union?” she teased.
“It's times like this when I don't know if you're a Christian or not.”
He could have slapped her with less effect. Far less, he was sure. “I'm a Christian.” she said in a small voice. “I'm a Christian who's so used to acting that I confuse my friends and dishonour my God. Sorry. No wonder you don't trust me.”
“I trust you, Lilly. I just...”
“Can't work out when you're seeing the real me?”
“Exactly.”
“And tomorrow, within a couple of hours, I'm supposed to convince someone with 'yes be yes, no be no' on their face that I'm not deceiving anyone except my parents. And if I can't convince them, then I'm in serious trouble, aren't I?”
“The interview has no set end time, the interview room has been booked for the whole day. You have the whole day off translating. If further days are necessary, that can be arranged.”
“Is that supposed to reassure me?”
“I hope so. We know you're complicated, Lilly. We're giving the truthsayer time to do her work.”
“I hope you're paying her well.”
----------------------------------------
THURSDAY MORNING, 25TH JAN.
One thing that Vivian had decided was that civil service black just did not go with the mask. She tried another outfit entirely. A modest, full skirted dress in a toning blue, with it she tried a warm hooded cape in dark-red wool that she'd found at the market the day before, and black leather gloves. She looked in the mirror. Yes, it was very much the look she wanted: the mysterious lady of power.
On the way, she'd attracted a lot of stares, and a little boy, egged on by his big sister came up to her and ask her “Can you really read my mind?”
“If you decide something about me, I'll hear it. If we touched, I'd hear what you're thinking.”
“Where are you going?”
“Some important people want to know if someone is lying or telling the truth. I'm going to help them know the truth.”
“I like your dress, but how can you see out?” he asked.
“It's not a full mirror, I can see through them.”
“Oh.”
“Any more questions?”
“No.”
“And you don't want me to listen to what you're thinking?”
He shook his head violently.
“'Bye then!”
The gate guard had been forewarned, but his eyes still popped out of their sockets when she rounded the corner. “Hello, Ms. I understand you won't give me a name, but I do need to verify your identity.”
Vivian handed over her truthsayer I.D. “I'm registered truthsayer 415.”
“There's five hundred of you?” he asked, in horror.
“Not yet. It's more random than that.” she scanned her fingerprint. It verified correctly, of course.
“Oh. That's a relief.” he said, returning her I.D. to her.
“Is it? Do I intimidate you?”
“Not at all, Ms.” he fibbed.
“You just decided to lie to me.” she said, shaking her head in sadness. “May I go in?”
“Yes, Ms. Entrance three, level two, you'll be in interview room thirty five, but there should be someone waiting to show you the way.”
“Do I need a visitor's badge?”
“Oh! Yes, sorry.” He handed it to her.
“Do you believe in God?” she asked.
“Yes, Ms.”
“I'd appreciate your prayers. If I make a mistake today, it could ruin an innocent person's life.”
“I'll pray, Ms.”
“Thank you.”
She swept on, and he watched her go, before remembering that he needed to ring the receptionist at Information.
----------------------------------------
“There are two ways this can work.” Vivian said, as she sat down opposite Lilly. “The normal way is that someone else asks the questions, and I say whether you're telling the truth or not.”
Lilly looked around the room, the receptionist had left them alone. “Are they hiding?”
“No. They want me to do it the other way. I have to ask the questions too. According to the pay-scale, that puts my fee up by a factor of five, and they have to sign a disclaimer that it's not my fault if I don't ask a critical question.”
“Wow. So, today could make you rich?”
“Unfortunately, I'm a civil servant, and I'm here at the request of my government.”
“No big pile of money?”
“None at all.” Vivian said, then added. “And I was supposed to have today off, too.”
“Sorry.”
“Not your fault.”
“Is that normal civil service uniform?”
“No. I thought it went well with the mask, though.”
“It does.”
“So, tell me about your emotional state.”
“My emotional state?”
“Yes. Are you stressed, worried, dreaming up ways of trying to mislead me, thinking you can hide your thoughts until you lose the power?”
“How do you know I'm hiding?” Lilly asked.
“I'm pretty sure I would be, in your situation.”
“That's why you're not making contact?”
Vivian shrugged, “There's not much point, is there?”
“What do you mean?”
“I expect you can control your expression, can't you? Decide whether to react to shock or not, decide whether your eyes dilate or not when you hear something surprising? If you can do that, you can almost certainly control almost all of your surface thoughts too.”
“How do you know I can do that?”
“I know I can. And your life depended on that sort of control far more than mine ever did.”
“You've been briefed about me.” Lilly said.
“A little. I got about one page of information about you. I didn't read it all.”
“Why not?”
“Is it all true?”
“I don't know what they wrote. Maybe not.”
“So, tell me.”
“Tell you what?”
“Who is Lilly? But first, there's not much point hiding, so come out of the mud.”
“Mud?”
“How do you think of where you are when you hide?”
“I crouch in darkness.”
“Interesting. The ground swallows us. Have you ever been stuck?”
“Yes. It is terrible. The darkness holds on to me, and I have to fight for the light. I pray for God to give me light, and he has answered my cry. But if my heart is full of darkness, like now, I doubt, and I cannot bring myself to pray.”
“If you are trapped in the mud, you make a bubble around yourself. The bubble is shiny, and the mud cannot stick to it. By itself it floats to the surface.” She paused ten seconds, “Are you still hiding?”
“I am stuck.” Lilly said, fear in her voice, and her heart. She'd never been stuck when feeling so far from God.
If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
“You think the darkness clings to you?”
“Yes.”
“No. You are a bubble, surrounded by the light of God.”
“There is darkness in me, I sin too easily, I shame Jesus.”
“Have you trusted him with your life? Repented of your sins, and asked him to be your Lord?”
“Yes.”
“Then do not believe the devil's lies, sister. If you have repented of your sins and trusted in the name of Jesus, then God has removed your sins from you as far as East is from the West, and the Lord of Light lives in you.
"The darkness cannot overcome light, the light in you repels the darkness. You are the light of the world, you have no business hiding under a basket.”
“I am out, thank you.”
Vivian held out her hands. Lilly didn't hesitate to accept them.
[I saw the true Lilly, she was scared, and ashamed.]
[Truth.]
[Is she ever anything else?]
[I don't know.]
[You think perhaps you live the masks you make for yourself?]
[Yes.]
[My poor sister, you have my compassion.]
[They think you can tell who I am, which is the real me? Dutiful daughter or care-free cryptic defector? Here I am one, talking to my parents I am the other. How can you tell, when I do not know myself?]
“Let's start at the beginning.” Vivian said, breaking hands. “Tell me about your family, your childhood, but first, let's talk to God who knows all and reveals mysteries.” Vivian prayed, thanking God for Lilly's faith in the cross as well as her own and that they had this time together to talk about important things, then asking that God would make clear to both of them who Lilly was at heart.
“I... I didn't expect this.” Lilly said, close to tears.
“That I'd be a Christian?”
“That too, but even if you were, that you'd be so... blatant about it. If someone told me this room had never had an interview in it that had started with prayer I think I'd believe them.”
“I guess the culture here and in my home are little different, I've only been here a few days, and I've already shocked people by talking about God at the place I will be working. So far, I'm able to excuse myself by saying that I'm a new Christian. But I don't want to bottle up what I believe.”
“How new?”
“I turned from all my sins on New Year's eve.”
“Wow. That is new. But you seem really confident in your faith.”
“God is real, why shouldn't I be?”
“Sorry, I mean, you're not hesitant to claim promises for me.”
“Should I be?”
“No. Just... I don't know. Did you grow up in Church?”
“Not at all. But I was very familiar with the power of the spirit world.... I turned from darkness to light, and I've seen God at work.”
“At home, it is frowned upon to believe in spirits, and illegal to claim they have power or to be a Christian.”
“But you became one there?”
“No, no. But my little brother did. My first rebellious act: I didn't denounce him, or his classmate who convinced him of the truth.”
“So, how did you become a Christian?”
“Fresh out of indoctrination camp, age sixteen, I was sent here, to see for myself the decadent lives of you capitalistic imperialists, how you treat one another with contempt and the poor and foreign are downtrodden. But I was met with love and acceptance and curiosity by classmates. I'd been taught to listen without showing disapproval, as befits a spy or an ambassador, and so I listened. I was here to learn, and I learned. They invited me to a church meeting, and claiming to myself that I was being brave to expose myself to such poisonous teaching, I went. But I also knew I wanted to hear what had made my brother take such a risk.”
“And?”
“The speaker was a visiting speaker originally from home. I guess they knew that, so I won't claim it was a coincidence. He contrasted the regime I knew with the kingdom of God. He wasn't denouncing the regime, or demonising it, like I've since heard some people do, or attacking it even, he merely used it as an illustration, and he also tried to show people the good in it as well as the bad. I found myself agreeing with everything he said about home, and I was persuaded that I wanted to me a citizen of heaven.” Lilly laughed, “The people who took me were openly disappointed in his style. I think they'd expected more thunder and condemnation. It was actually rather hard to tell these keen Christians that he'd convinced me to pray the prayer by the end of the sermon. But it certainly shut them up when I did.”
“So here you were, with your illegal faith?”
“And my brother stuck back home.”
“You love him a lot, don't you?”
“Yes.”
“But... I don't understand something, your government sent you out here alone?” Vivian asked, and touched fingers with Lilly.
“No. There were four of us. There always are, each year, the top four are chosen, each to keep an eye on the others.”
“No one older?”
“No. It is a test of leadership and loyalty as well as an education. They do not want to have an obvious leader, so they send out the four best and brightest, each vying to show themselves the most loyal, the most dedicated to the cause.”
“What happened to the other three?”
“Two of us very secretly became Christians, the other two secretly became lovers, and neglected their studies. They took too many risks, in all respects. She became pregnant, and I noticed. I had no choice, not really, I had to denounce them. But I talked it through with them, and convinced them they must denounce themselves too. So, before I finished talking to my controller, they did to her controller, sought forgiveness from the great leader and honourable marriage. So they went home in semi-disgrace, not total. Although they were in disgrace they were still loyal, and stupidly, the other Christian hadn't foreseen that they might be sent home. He'd been trying to convince them to turn to God too. When they got home, they denounced him. I got instructions to execute him.”
Lilly stopped, surprised that there'd been no reaction from Vivian at all. “You do have a lot of self control, don't you?”
“Yes. What did you do?”
“In my mother's eyes, I was still a dutiful daughter, dedicated to the great leader, but, there were suspicions. Why had I confronted them before I denounced them? So I had to take a video of the execution. But he didn't know he was in danger, and he was stronger than I, so there was time to prepare. I talked it all through with Mother, and she told me which drugs to buy to make him compliant. We agreed that I was to take him to beside a river, one dark night, give him the drugs, make him get in a big sack with weights in, shoot him in the head, through a pillow to muffle the sound and push him into the river. It all took quite a lot of arranging.”
“But you made a convincing video?”
“Very. Lots of mess on the pillow to show mother. Getting the pig into the bag and stay there was difficult, but it certainly thrashed appropriately when shot.”
“Where is he now?”
“I've no idea. He hadn't known what was happening, you see. Total realism.”
“How did you substitute the pig for him?”
“I'd prepared everything before-hand, of course. I'd told him that we needed to talk, out by the river where no one could hear us. I was waiting for him just where I'd got the pig. But it was dark, and I had the torch. I'd set up my wrist unit so it could video me drugging him with a cup of hot chocolate, him getting all woozy and obedient, me sentencing him, then I kicked him out of the shot, saying I didn't want to hear another word from him, picked up my wrist unit and took it to the pig instead of him.”
“What happened next?”
“Well, I did a convincing job of being about to throw up just before closing down the link to mother, and then I helped the poor guy get his clothes back on, and explained the realities of life to him: he had been executed for his faith, added to the ranks of martyrs, at least in the minds of the party members back home and the video would probably be shown to his family, too. So he needed to disappear or we'd both be executed properly. He got the idea immediately. But... if something had gone wrong, if the pig had somehow not been there... would I have killed him? I don't know. What kind of monster am I?”
“A scared young woman, forced to do terrible things. You are no kind of monster, Lilly. So that is why your mother is sure about you? Because in her eyes, you denounced one friend and executed another?”
“I think so.”
“Does anyone here know these things about you?”
“Urm, probably not. I told one person when I started working here, but whether it went on file, I've no idea. She's not on staff any more.”
“So far, Lilly, I can say that you are loyal to your brother, loyal to yourself, and loyal to God. I can also say that you are disloyal to your upbringing, at least where it conflicts with one of these.”
“How do you know that's not just a story I'm telling you?” Lilly asked.
Touching Lily's hand, watching her eyes, but focussed on her heart too, Vivian asked, “Is it just a story?”
“No.”
“Truth.” Vivian declared, to any microphones listening.
“I might have been lying in my mind.”
“But you weren't.”
“How could you tell?”
“Because I'm good at this. One of the best.”
“You don't sound very proud about that.”
“Not much to be proud of. I have a past in which my actions were far worse than anything you've confessed to so far. God understands, Lilly, the depth of sin in the hearts of men. Weeps with us when we find ourselves caught in temptation, and he answered your prayer about the pig not grunting.”
Lilly looked at her in amazement “I thought of that?”
“I think I just caught the edges of it. But I would have guessed that you'd pray that anyway. The only sensible thing to do.”
“So, where does that leave us?”
“Exploring your attitude to your home, I think. And your attitude to this country, and your attitude to other countries within the U.N.”
“Why the latter?” Lilly asked.
“Because assuming I pass you, you don't need to ask for a passport from this country.
"You might not realise it, but you're applying for U.N. asylum, not a particular country. If I pass you, then, for instance, you could decide that the capitalist imperialists here are a right bunch of godless warmongers, whereas the nice people where I come from are a peace-loving people who don't want to see your homeland reduced to radioactive rubble.”
“You've heard about that, then?” Lilly asked.
“I presume your father told you my king is hoping for direct talks with your great leader.”
“Please don't call him my great leader.” Lilly asked. “Yes, father did tell me. I didn't realise any of that.”
“Nor did I, until I was told. Just so you know, I am authorised to offer you and your brother a passport if you pass my interview. Also, if you pass my interview, I'm expected to offer you the possibility of applying to join our little club of people with blue masks. Though, of course, what you wear or not is up to you. You'd have some more interviews, but I don't think they'd be very hard for you to pass.”
“Slow down, please. You're saying that you think I might become a truthsayer?”
“Why not?”
“Because half my life is a lie.”
“Ah, well, now. Is it? Is it really? You've been hiding certain things from your mother. But that's hard for you, isn't it? I think you actually love truth, and thats why the thought that you're living behind a mask is so painful for you.”
Lilly shook her head in amazement. How did this woman know her so well? “You're not going to tell me that you've heard me think that, surely?”
“Does it sound true?”
“It does.”
“How many lies have you told me?”
“None.”
“Why not, if your life is all lies?”
“Because... you're anonymous, maybe? I don't know.”
“There are advantages to this mask.”
“I think I'd like to be friends, where no masks are needed.”
“Would it disturb you if I took mine off?”
“What about your disguise?”
“It's more there to protect you than me. If you don't think you need its protection, nor do I, at least, not in here, with you. I think I'd like to keep my abilities a secret, normally, in case I end up working with people from here, and what I can do make them feel uncomfortable.”
“I don't understand. How does your disguise protect me?”
“It means we can meet in the street, or at church, or anywhere, and you won't ever know it was me that knows all about you, when you don't even know my name. Which, by the way, I won't say aloud, here, because I'm assuming there are microphones.”
“That makes sense.”
“But they might not be turned on, you never know. I forgot to ask.”
“You don't find microphones inhibiting?”
“No, I'm used to them. I find them reassuring, actually.”
“You do? Why?”
“Because, in my normal line of work, it's very nice to be able to say 'shall we check the recordings, so we can see what I actually said?'”
“What's your normal line of work?”
“Probably better if I don't tell you. If someone wanted to check how many people there are, in this country from mine, doing my job...” she shrugged, “It's not a long list at all.”
“And we then cut it down to young women...”
“Exactly.” Vivian agreed. “So, Lilly, would you like me to stay anonymous?”
“I think so.”
“OK.”
“Any questions?”
“Your King is really a Christian?”
“Yes. As is his wife, the next in line, Prince Albert, and his wife, Eliza. And I don't know if you heard, but the king's father could hear thoughts, as can Eliza's father. From which we're supposed to predict that there won't be any laws which makes it uncomfortable to be a thought-hearer.”
“You said Eliza's father can hear thoughts? I thought I read that God had removed it from him.”
“Yes, to both. But he turned from his sins and God restored the power to him.”
“Wow. He turned... That must have been something to witness.”
Vivian shrugged. “It was a bit pitiful, really. He realised his whole life had been built on a lie, that he'd ruined his life, his lover's life, his relationship with his daughter, all for nothing at all. All that pride, turning to ashes. He thought he was special, but found out that he wasn't so very special at all.”
“You sound like you were there.”
Vivian touched fingers [I was, almost. I told ancient truths that convinced him that I was more steeped in evil than he ever was, made him grovel before me and mercilessly smashed his pride. You lied to save a man, I spoke of my days as a witch as though they were still present, concealed my faith and boasted of my past sins to disarm a monster and purge my government of people he had corrupted. I did not deny my faith, nor pretend I had none for long, but he did not initially believe my profession of faith. I tell you this, so that you know I understand the lure and power of darkness and masks. You do not need to think of me as a friend, I will understand.]
[You were a witch?]
[I was proud, vain and callous. I cursed, and people died. I chanted spells and fires rose. I was corrupt and I corrupted others, and will bear the scars on my body and soul until I die. But God in his mercy saved me. Blessed be the name of the Lord.]
[Amen.]
[So... it's not coincidence my government sent me. They knew you were unlikely to shock me.]
[Can I ask... you are very sure that God has forgiven you.]
[I am. He granted me... what you might call undeniable evidence.]
[A personal miracle?]
[Yes.]
[No wonder you are confident in Him.]
[It is confidence-building, but it is also a temptation to laziness. I know God loves me, I know he's real. Do I really need to go to a church, to mix with people I don't know? To shake their sweaty hands and listen to their ignorant decisions that I must be a visitor or that I'm worth getting to know, or in one or two cases maybe I'd make a good wife for their son?]
[I've had the same. It's not nice being new, is it?]
[No.]
[I invite you to my church, truthsayer whose name I do not know. It is bigger than I would like, but does not have thousands.]
[You are sure?]
[I am sure.]
[Would I make them flee if I shared my past?]
[I hope not. I don't know. I am not scared of a sister in Christ.]
Vivian broke contact and tried to wipe her eyes; Lilly's open acceptance of her brought tears to Vivian's eyes. She realised this was a design flaw in the masks. “This mask isn't meant for people who cry easily.” She remarked.
“I don't think you do.”
“Wait a moment, please.” Vivian turned away and, while she wiped her eyes, she decided to cheat. She had no real doubts, but she checked for Christians in the room. Two. So, unless Lilly had a clear reason to risk martyrdom, she shouldn't go home. So, why make Lilly go through any more of this uncertainty? Well, unless it was helpful to her. Sitting down and linking hands, she asked “Lilly is talking like this helpful to you?”
“Urm, maybe. Why?”
“I'm utterly convinced you're a Christian. I'm therefore convinced you have lots of reasons not to want to go home. That's not quite enough for what I've been asked to check up on. I'm just thinking, I could just set you some difficult moral challenges, and listen to you working your way through them, in which case we might be finished with that side of things in half an hour, maybe, and then maybe there's be another half an hour's questioning. Or if you prefer we could carry on exploring your past and your different reactions to things that have happened while you've been working here, your thoughts about all sorts of issues, that sort of thing. More of a counselling session if you like. That might help you more, I don't know. I'm happy either way. Or we could pick and mix.”
“Either way you work out how Lilly thinks?”
“Yes.”
“But the second way, I get to learn it too, in a more solid way than I do now?”
“I'd hope so. I'm not an expert, so I might need a bit of help, but that's no problem.”
“How...”
Vivian gestured to her wrist unit. “I know a number which would let us bring a psych-counsellor on line. I'm sure they wouldn't mind chatting, assuming they're free, if you don't mind the invasion.”
“The invasion?”
“They wouldn't be asking you to blurt your innermost thoughts across the international network.”
“I'm not sure you're making much sense.”
“Think of a number between fifty five and fifty eight.” Vivian asked with a smile.
“Fifty seven.”
“Very well done, you're up to date.”
“I don't get it. Hold on... you're saying the fifty-six is now fifty seven?”
“Yes.”
“And you have their contact number?”
“Privilege of having the blue mask, Lilly.”
“Ooh, envy envy! No, maybe not, actually. Not the sort of thing you want to misuse, that sort of access.”
“Not really.”
“But it would be nice, occasionally, to have someone peer inside my brain to find out what's going on there.”
“Shall we talk about that, might it help?”
“OK.” Lilly talked about her discussion with Jo, and her refusing to take the note back.
“So, on one level, you needed to touch his hand to know if he could hear thoughts?”
“Well, needed is a bit strong. I wanted to. But, why didn't I let him give it back when he argued?”
“Pure pig-headed stubbornness?”
Lilly laughed, “Maybe. That makes as much sense as anything else.”
“So, for some reason you felt you wanted to be vulnerable, like you'd made him feel? A sort of self-destructive repentance?”
Lilly shook her head. “I don't think I'm suicidal.”
“So, are you a romantic? The beautiful spy sends a cryptic note which could doom her...”
“If I was after him, why would I not tell my name?”
“Ah, now that might have been self-defence reasserting itself, don't you think?”
Vivian cheated and saw what had been going on: wary attraction, and wanting... fairness in their relationship, if there ever was going to be one.
“Possibly.” Lilly said.
“OK, look at it this way: You shattered his emotional balance, shook him up terribly, and to reassure him, you made yourself utterly vulnerable and placed your life in his hands. Your note hinted at a future together and yet, when you saw he might be falling in love with the mystery lady, you pushed him away. What does that say?”
“I don't know.”
“Might it not be rationality reasserting itself? You're emotionally not ready to start a relationship with this guy you've hardly met, and you're saying 'Don't rush me dude, I did write that you'd need to get to know me much better.'”
“But he can't get to know me better, can he?”
“Not unless you meet him again. But that note plus your name? That sounds really dangerous to me.”
“So, I'm not falling in love with him.” Lilly sounded relieved.
“Oh, you might be, but I think the note was about saying, yes we both know I can get you dead, now you can reciprocate. In other words, a certain level of trust, but withholding your name was displaying good sense.”
“Thank you.”
“All part of the service.” Vivian quipped.
“You know, I'm really confused about something.”
“Ask away.”
“Your country... Are you capitalists or are you not capitalists. I mean, here, it seems like everyone is doing it for the money. OK, maybe not their king, but pretty much every one else, even the staff here.”
“Ah, well, the staff here aren't technically part of their government, but yes, it does seem a little different here. They haven't quite got the same commitment to service we have.”
“Could you explain?”
“I can try... Here, you sign up to the army or the civil service for five or ten years, I don't know exactly how long it is in different parts of government, and for those years you serve your country. You're supposed to stay entirely at their disposal, not really form any links to anywhere, and they move you around a lot, so you can't, not really. They work hard, since there's not much else to do, since they only have work-friends, but they're on the look-out for relationships and places where they might be able to settle down eventually. After they've done their however many years, the government says thank you very much, you can get on with your life now.
Some people stay longer, but no one expects it to be for their entire life. So, they're thinking about what they can do when they leave, and how much money they can earn and so on. Except for the people who thrive on change, it's a step on the way somewhere else, and the people who thrive on change keep the whole system going. Does that make sense?”
“Yes, I think so. What about you?”
“We prefer stability, I guess. When I joined our civil service, then I got to choose roughly where I'd live, and what I'd do, within reason. Though I must admit some parts of the service aren't nearly as flexible about location as my department. We look on the relationship as interwoven duties: I have a duty to do my job, the government has the duty to feed and clothe me, provide me with housing, and so on.”
“And money doesn't matter?”
“No much. Oh, I don't get as much money as my counterparts here, but almost all of mine is disposable income. Unless I don't look after my flat, in which case it gets cleaned for me and I get charged, and so on, but as long as I'm not damaging state property, my pay is pretty much for extras, hobbies, giving away, holidays, that sort of thing.”
“And what about saving for when your time is up?”
“Retirement you mean? The state continues to look after my needs.”
“You're saying that it's a permanent position?”
“Yes. Well, I can move department if I or my supervisor thinks its a good idea. But I expect to be in the civil service until I retire or die.”
“That sounds decidedly socialist.”
“Is that a bad word? It's a contract, I serve, they meet my needs. If I don't serve well, then I get in trouble, possibly moved to another job without so many responsibilities, less money, and so on. If I really fail, then I might be sent to prison for breach of oath. But other than that, they have a loyal worker and I have peace of mind.”
“So the money element is there, there is reward, but it's not like you need to think what happens when you finish, because you don't?”
“Exactly. We don't have a very large civil service, most people like the idea of deciding where they'll live, being able to swap jobs when they want to and so on. I've traded some of those freedoms for security. It was my choice and I'm happy with it.”
“OK, and the U.N. system is a bit of a hybrid, I guess. We get reasonable pay, a flat, and the job is mine for as long as I keep doing it well.”
“After which you're thrown on the rubbish pile?” Vivian prompted.
Lilly looked at her, a new thought dawning. “OK, so maybe I am a downtrodden worker after all, I'm just blinded by the nice home and the pay-packet.”
“I think you'll find the U.N. system is pretty much a standard employment contract, Lilly, but with a home included in the package. In other words, it's competing in a capitalist-style job market. There's nothing holding you to your job, not really, you could tell them you've found a better one, move out of your flat and on one would be sent to prison. If I wanted out of the civil service... Well, it's possible, but it involves a very very complex procedure, including calculating how many hours you've worked compared to the value of your home and your pay and your training, and paying the state for your training if you've not done enough hours. Or I could commit an appropriate crime and lose it all very quickly indeed.”
“You know, I can understand your system a lot better than I can the one here.”
“You're used to a socialist system.”
“But your system is a mixture?”
“Sort of. In some ways, they're both actually a throw back to an even earlier system: slavery, but without the bad bits. I think the difference between all three systems comes down to the rights of the worker. Under extreme slavery, the worker had no rights to property, life or even over their body, but they could expect food and shelter, and often had freedom of religion. Under age of chaos socialism, the workers normally had some kind of property rights, some kind of right to life, no choice of where they worked, and only limited freedom of religion, but could expect food, shelter and health-care. Under every U.N. recognised system, people have full rights to property, life, religion, and so on, but the question of food, shelter, healthcare and choice of work are a bit variable. Here in capitalism central, you've got no right to expect food, shelter, medical treatment beyond absolute emergencies and total freedom of where you work. I've chosen to swap freedom of work for a more socialist care package.”
“But I don't have that 'care package' do I?”
“No. If you stay here, you need to think about putting money into insurance schemes for health problems or accidents, and saving for future problems like losing your job, and getting old, because the state won't help you much if at all. If you joined up to the state system here, the state will only help you as long as you're in the system, and again you need to plan for old age and the rest. I expect you were supposed to learn the horror of this for the old and infirm and run back home where you knew you could retire in dignity.”
“I was. I thought I'd escaped because this job comes with health care and a nice flat, but I was naïve about the future, wasn't I? That's scary.”
“Why? You're what, twenty one?”
“Yes.”
“Many people don't start saving for retirement until they're much older than you.”
“Yes, but what of my little brother? I was thinking that he could stay with me, and I could provide for him at college, but I'd forgotten about the medical insurance side of things, and needing to save for the future. I'm not sure how good his English is either, so he might need language courses when he gets here. I've got enough saved for that but that would mean I have no reserves...”
“Welcome to the worrying world of capitalism, Lilly. You have maximum freedom and maximum worry.”
“If I asked your country for a passport, might there be an opening for a spy-trained translator in your civil service?”
“I don't know. You really want to leave your current job?”
“Not really. But if I did, what would that mean for my brother?”
“If you did get accepted for the civil service, then for as long as your brother is dependant on you — which normally means until he's finished university or has got a full time job — then he'd be able to stay in your state-provided flat, get state-provided health care and so on. But it all depends how much you like your freedoms.”
“I've never had freedom to choose my job — I was instructed to get this one if I could, and I don't like the thought of having the freedom to lose it.”
“But you're also working for the information department.”
“Yes.”
“So if for some reason the U.N. stopped being interested in what's happening in your home, then perhaps you'd still have a role there?”
“I doubt it.” Lilly said. “If they're not interested in home because it's been turned into a radioactive disaster area, then they're not going to want to send propaganda there either, are they?”
“Lilly, the U.N. doesn't work that way.”
“No?”
“There hasn't been a U.N. sponsored war since the end of the age of chaos.”
“But the country attacked then was a paranoid socialist state just like home, as I've heard many times in the dining room here.”
“True. But I still don't think anyone's going to drop any nuclear weapons from the U.N. side. But I do need to talk to you about your attitude to the place you keep calling home.” Vivian cheated once more. It was an important question. She saw all she needed to to offer Lilly the passport, and some dangerous things for Lilly's faith.
“That's an emotive word, isn't it? Is it wrong to love a country, when you hate it's leadership?”
“Hate is a very strong word for a Christian, Lilly.”
“The leader is evil, the system is evil, the people who serve the system... are trying to survive.”
“Might the leader himself not also be trying to survive?” Vivian suggested.
“He has set himself up as a god, and accepts no rival, regularly people are killed, taking the blame for things he himself suggested.”
“Does that sound to you like he lives in terror of then the people discover he is not perfect? Just a thought. So, let me ask you some questions.”
“Go ahead.”
“Suppose you found out that there was a plan to assassinate the great leader while he was on a visit to, say, a fertiliser factory.”
“Explosives factory, you mean.” Lilly corrected.
Vivian shrugged. “Let's suppose there's actually one that only makes fertiliser.”
“OK.”
“Your controller says she's heard of an assassination plan, but not where.”
“I'd say, yes, there is a plan, I'd tell them I have been learning about it. I have just found out that the assassination will take place when he visits the bicycle factory where most of the time they make long thin bicycles with just one thick-walled straight tube, a trigger and no wheels.” she mimicked shooting. “I'd tell her 'You might hear about a plot where the assassination will take place at the fertiliser factory. That's a decoy, in case someone finds something out, but a week ago I helped them translate the plans for that so called fertilizer factory. Someone had even written fertiliser factory on the top of the plans. I didn't know what it was about then, and I do not know where they got them from. But this so-called fertiliser factory has a factory floor with a lot of lathes, and other machines for working with metal and no vats of chemicals. I pointed this out to them, and they said they know, it was a joke, but they were annoyed that I'd seen it.'”
Vivian was impressed. “The stuff about the decoy, that was self-defence?”
“Yes.”
“Your face showed no signs that your were making that up on the spot.”
“Thank-you.”
“OK. Next one, last thing I'm required to do by the system here. Oh, does your mother know of your ability?”
“Yes.”
“OK. You get told you have a special mission to serve the great leader. You must take a certain ferry on a certain date, and will be met by a courier. I will play the courier.”
“I understand.” Lily said.
“No, you don't. I am sorry, I don't like it, but I have to try to make this realistic.” Vivian said.
“You mean you will be aggressive, try my dedication?”
“I will try to make it realistic, you have no information about the meeting. You must try to react as you would in a real situation. If that means you'd decide to kill me, then I'd appreciate it if you didn't actually strike the killing blow, but I'm prepared for some bruising. You'll have time to prepare yourself. It is cold, the deck of the ferry is empty except for you, everyone else is inside. You have been told to wait beside the railing near the front. Can you help turn the table over? We'll turn the legs to the wall and it'll be the railing.”
Vivian had argued this through with the UN representative the day before. She wasn't happy about doing it, but they had more experience with double agents than she had, and felt such a crisis-confrontation was the only reliable test. They wouldn't be satisfied with anything else. It would either be Vivian or one of their agents. They'd thought Vivian might be able to add an extra level of assurance, and when she'd agreed, they'd provided a rather gruesome video sequence to back up what she had to say. But mostly she wasn't going to rely on those.
“So I must treat this as absolute a test as at indoctrination camp?” Lilly asked.
“I don't know what those were like, but I expect so. Now, as you prepare yourself, imagine it is just two weeks from today, not much has changed. You have passed this interview, and been granted the passports, your mother still thinks you are her loyal daughter, your brother is still staying with your parents and you are starting to work on a script for a propaganda film that will detail all the errors of judgement that the 'great leader' has made over the past decades, and who has paid the price.”
“Sounds like a good film.”
Vivian shrugged. “I'm going to pray for a bit, as I prepare to be someone I'm not. You prepare however you like. You need to be yourself, of course.”
“But if you're an agent from home, then...”
“You need to react as you would to such an agent, but you need to live it like it's real.”
“You're going to tell me my brother's a defector and things like that.” Lilly accused.
“I'm giving away nothing.” Vivian said, exercising perfect muscle control.
“It's a standard test for double agents. You'll show me faked pictures of my loved ones dead or in trouble, try to make me reveal who else is a defector, and so on, and you'll be doing it in English so I'll know it's not real. Which way do you want me to play it? I passed it both ways when I was at home.”
“Against a truthsayer?”
“No, that adds an extra twist.”
“So, you may play it any way you feel appropriate. I will of course, on one level be seeing if I can catch you being disloyal to the great leader. On the other level, any secrets you reveal will be counted against you.”
“I need to play it both ways, you mean?”
“Isn't that just life for a double agent?”
Lilly sighed. “Yes. OK, so, I'm going on a boat ride. I hate boats.”