Between the Sea and the Wall: Part 1

It was a hot, humid morning. Noor had drifted in and out of sleep all night – she’d been having nightmares again, the sort of nightmares where you wake up sweating, but you can’t for the life of you remember why. She vaguely remembered hearing Baba’s cries echoing in the distance of her memory. His face had seemed so close, almost tangible, but had dissolved into the past as she woke, leaving her desperately clinging onto his image.

She rubbed her eyes and  registered the sound of loud, vicious banging outside her window and the smell of freshly baked bread. Sitting up on the thin, worn mattress, she checked if Sami was still asleep. She sighed and stuck her head out the window – another house raid. The Dominus soldiers’ silver uniforms gleamed in the morning sunlight as their batons struck the frail wooden door with their towering limbs and eerily robotic movements. It wasn’t long before they were inside the house next door. Heavy footsteps resonated through the walls and Noor heard the crashing of furniture, the breaking of glass and a child crying. She could almost taste the blood and terror permeating the air – acidic on her tongue. Her Mama came running from the kitchen, eyes wild with fright, flour-covered hands trembling. Noor grabbed hold of them and rubbed her back.

‘Shhhhh. It’s okay,’ Noor whispered. ‘They’re not coming in here. We’re safe.’

For now. Her Mama picked up Sami, who was still asleep, and rocked him against her chest. Outside, the hefty soldiers were dragging next door’s oldest son, barefoot and topless, out onto the street. They beat him and beat him, in a flurry of batons and boots. His mother screamed and wailed, begging the soldiers to stop. Instead, they tied him up and blindfolded him, before dragging his inert and bloodied frame to their silver hover truck. Silent spectators gathered at their doors and windows, their angry eyes betraying their contempt for the Dominus. One soldier turned to face them when closing the truck door. He caught Noor’s gaze with his cold, blue eyes and she felt a shiver run down her spine.

The raids had become more frequent, thanks to the graffiti that kept popping up all over the wall. The Dominus would laser steam one off, and within a few days a new one would replace it. The culprit was obviously cautious enough to cover their face and keep hidden from the never-ending camera system. They’d started off as meaningless cartoons – drawings of animals from the past like sheep and cats and donkeys. Then they’d got braver. A flock of birds surrounding the word ‘Freedom’. A small Bedu girl on a bed of flowers, holding her hands up in prayer as Dominus drones dropped bombs on her. A Dominus soldier with blood dripping from his mouth and hands.

After her usual breakfast of plain bread, Noor grabbed the ration tokens and

stepped out into the sweaty slums. On the way to the marketplace, she took a detour, weaving her way through shacks and makeshift streets until she reached the wall. She’d made it just in time. A drone was laser-steaming the graffiti at an incredibly high speed. It was a painting of the sea – deep blues and greens cascading into frothing white points and the word ‘Hope’ dancing through the colours. Holding her breath, Noor watched the disappearing waves. Then, quickly, she turned on her heel and hurried back towards the marketplace.

*

She waited in line, tapping her foot impatiently. No one spoke. Hundreds of blinking

eyes dotted the place, whirring and clicking, capturing every move – even the slightest scratch of the nose. When it was finally her turn, Noor stepped into the pod and put her ration tokens in the slot. A small cupboard opened automatically, revealing a measly bag of flour, some powdered milk and a tin of beans. She packed them away, but before she could press the exit button, a screen suddenly lit up with a message: NOOR MOSTAFA. YOUR PRESENCE IS REQUIRED AT THE COUNCIL. PRESENT THE CARD AT RECEPTION. The cupboard opened again – this time revealing a plain silver card. Noor felt her heartbeat drumming in her ears. She left the pod and walked shakily to the council building. The blonde receptionist scanned the card, before handing it back and instructing her to follow a small drone. Noor stepped through a laser security system, where her whole body was scanned before being led to a glass lift. She followed the drone through a corridor of identical grey doors until they stopped at the last one. The door slid open revealing a Dominus agent sitting behind a sleek, metal desk.

‘Noor Mostafa,’ said the agent in a monotonous voice, ‘please sit down.’

*

Her head pounded in the midday sun as she walked home. She’d been asked to

gather intel about a rumoured uprising in The Strip. Why me? I don’t know anything about the rebels!  She wondered if this was to do with her father’s disappearance – she’d suspected that his side of the family were involved, but that was all it was – suspicions. Personally, she didn’t see the point. She’d given up dreaming of life outside The Strip. Every time there’d been an uprising their memories were wiped. All they remembered were the consequences; the bombs, the kidnappings, the collective punishment. What if she didn’t find any information? Or refused to cooperate? What would they do to her… Noor shivered at the thought of it.

When she got home, she closed her eyes with a sigh, listening to Sami’s little coughs and sniffles, until the siren sounded for afternoon free time. Noor slipped on her tattered sandals and went on her usual walk around the slums. Her nose wrinkled at the stench of the open sewers festering in the heat. She heard a whistle behind her and turned to see her cousin, Khalid, beckoning her from one of the tents. She was happy to see him. Something about his presence always calmed her – he had her father’s eyes. They chit chatted for a while, and as she was about to leave, he lowered his voice to a whisper and said,

‘My dad told me to tell you… there’s a party in two days.’

Noor’s eyes narrowed. Party? No one parties around here… Using a small stick, Khalid traced a time and location on the sandy floor inside the tent. He looked at her expectantly. She froze, her breath stuck in her throat. Then she nodded, and he quickly dusted the writing off the floor. She opened the tent flap and hurried back home.

Noor played with the silver card in her hands. The agent must have known she had a

family connection… could she really betray Khalid? She was jolted out of her thoughts by Sami’s violent coughing. She ran to his crib, holding him anxiously as he wheezed and struggled to breathe. Mama came and cradled him close to her chest, remembering her first child – lost to the same illness. With medicine it would be treatable, but there was no medicine in The Strip. The next morning his pale skin was tinged blue. He wouldn’t make it past a week.

Noor’s heart coiled at the fear of losing him. She took the silver card from under her pillow and made her decision before leaving for her usual trip to the marketplace. She was going to bargain with them.

*

That night her head spun with the word ‘traitor’. She closed her eyes and tried to shut

out the darkness that polluted her thoughts. She didn’t go out for afternoon free time the next day, sitting in anxious anticipation until the evening when a drone appeared at her window. She opened it and the drone dropped a package in her room. The medicine, and another silver card. Noor felt relief and dread pulse through her – the raid had been successful. Khalid could be dead right now, and it would be her fault. She gave Sami the medicine. Then her heart stopped as she heard an urgent banging at the door. Her mum got there first, and Khalid stepped inside. How? His eyes burned with rage and as he stared at Noor, she avoided his gaze. Her Baba’s disappointment was reflected in his stare and Noor broke down in tears, trying to explain; the medicine, the agent, Sami’s illness, how she didn’t have a choice – Khalid interrupted her jumbled excuses,

‘My Dad’s gone. So are the others. Dead or worse – being tortured.’ His voice

cracked. ‘I should’ve been there, but they were giving me grief at the checkpoint… I was late. All I found were shattered windows and traces of blood.’

Noor finally met his gaze.

‘The rebels will come for you,’ he said. ‘I’ve got to tell them, or they’ll suspect me.

You’d better leave by the morning if you want to live.’

*

As Noor rested her forehead against the train window, watching the blur of the landscape and feeling sick at the sheer speed of it, she replayed the moments that had led her to this point. Here she was, alone with the agent in an empty carriage. The air was clinical and artificially cool. They had known this would happen. They had given her the card with the medicine because they knew. They knew everything. Every thought. Every feeling. It felt like they were closer to her than the blood running through her veins – always watching. The only option given by the agent was to become a maid for a family in Utopa – unpaid of course. Her brother was alive, but at what cost?

When she stepped off the train and into Utopa city, Noor struggled to take in her

surroundings. She, who had never left The Strip, was now surrounded by buildings so tall that they disappeared into the gleaming sunlight. People hurried along the busy street, hopping on and off the hover buses. As she watched the floating vehicles speeding down the main road, she felt a sweat beginning to form in the small of her back. The only familiar thing here was the heat of the sun, which was the same in the city as it was back home, though none of the Utopans seemed affected by it.

The agent dropped her off at the Rothsfield residence – a huge, uber-sophisticated

penthouse on the 100^th floor of one of the uniform buildings that made up the city. The Rothsfields were a big deal, apparently, though Noor had never heard of them. She settled quickly into the swing of life in Utopa. She got used to her maid’s uniform, her tiny box room, the repetitive nature of her work. She even began to appreciate the meals, tasting foods she never could have imagined eating back home, though every mouthful was always tinged with sadness and a deep longing for her family. Every morning, she was given pills to take, but always managed to hide them before spitting them out in the toilet and flushing them away. She had a feeling they were the reason behind the other servants’ empty looking eyes. Any attempts she made at conversation with them were ignored with a creepy indifference. They went about their tasks mechanically, never showing any emotions. Noor couldn’t help but wonder how so many of her fellow Bedus had ended up here. Occasionally, she accompanied the Rothsfield’s daughter, Karlina, on walks around the city. They would walk to one of the identical squares of greenery, but instead of feeling a sense of solace at being outside, Noor felt even more suffocated by the artificial trees and grass, dotted with an all too familiar blinking camera system.  They hardly spoke, but one day Karlina asked her something that made Noor’s heart stop,

‘Have you ever seen the sea?’

*

The next week, Karlina had arranged for them to take a daytrip to the coast. They set off in one of the family’s hover cars, just the two of them. When they reached the coast, Noor’s breath stopped at the sight of the distant sea. They walked towards a lift in the cliff wall. Karlina stopped suddenly, saying she had dropped her hair clip, and that she would catch up. Noor hurried onwards, desperate to get closer. She stood in front of the sea for the first time in her life, closing her eyes. She listened to the waves breaking free from their vast body and crashing against the shore, then turning back into themselves. Tears tumbled down her face. They fell and ran to meet the saltiness of the open water. She felt a strange tingling feeling run through her body, following the stream of her tears, running down her spine into the tips of her fingers and toes. The wind enveloped her in a fierce embrace. She felt her father’s arms around her; heard his voice whispering her name. The sky melted into the ocean, she felt the infiniteness of the two forms blending into one, felt herself dissolving into them, as if she was merging with the sand below her feet and the open, blue water in front of her. Before she could stop herself, she screamed into the empty landscape. She screamed because she finally understood – she understood that she had never tasted freedom before. She understood why the rebels had no choice but to communicate in violence to an enemy who only spoke the language of bullets. She understood why they had no choice but to resist until they died, because right now, they were dead while breathing. She sobbed for her father, her uncle, for all the Bedus who had been kidnapped, murdered, tortured. Then she heard her name being spoken. Her eyes flashed open to see Karlina next to her. Noor quickly wiped her eyes and said,

‘I’m sorry I– ’

‘Don’t be.’ Karlina interrupted, grabbing her hand.

They both stood staring at the sea for a while, until Karlina spoke again,

‘You don’t take the pills, do you?’

Noor froze.

‘I brought you here to talk. There are no cameras here, most people aren’t allowed

without a special pass… I’m not like them, Noor. I discovered the truth, about us, about your people. There are others like me. And like you – servants who don’t take the pills. There’s a network of us – ’, Noor snatched her hand away,

‘Why should I trust you?’ What if it’s a trap?

‘Tonight, come to my room.’ Karlina held out her hair clip, ‘If anyone sees you, say

you’re returning this. I’ll show you everything I found in my father’s files. Make sure you don’t speak – all the rooms are bugged. Noor hesitated, before taking the clip and stuffing it in her pocket.

That evening, Noor was unaware of the watching presence as she cleaned the dinner

table, until she heard a cough behind her. Startled, she spun around to face Mr Rothsfield. A glass slipped from her hands and shattered against the cold, tiled floor. He stepped towards her, his snakelike eyes lingering a little too long, and squeezed her shoulders,

‘I must discuss a matter with you. Tomorrow, noon. My office.’

Noor nodded shakily in response, cutting her thumb on the broken glass.

When she was sure everyone was asleep, Noor crept to Karlina’s room. Karlina

scanned the chip in her wrist and a hologram presentation appeared. Noor’s heart froze as the video-documented horror unfolded before her eyes. ‘Project X – Mass extermination.’ ‘Project A – Salting the land.’ ‘Project Z – Mass memory loss.’ She clicked through photos of massacres. Villages burned to the ground. Pregnant women, dead, bellies sliced open. Mass graves filled with children. Her people – murdered and mutilated. They had been conditioned to believe that before the Dominus, the Bedus had lived as primitive tribes in a barren wasteland, hunting and killing one another. The Dominus had salvaged them. They had brought civilisation to a land of savages. But here was the proof that the Bedus had thrived before – that the Dominus were the true savages.