Bina Shah - Before She Sleeps

Before She Sleeps

A Novel

Bina Shah

For her

Part 1

Reluctance

From The Official Green City Handbook for Female Citizens

No citizen is permitted to write or maintain

a personal journal or diary.

This rule applies to all citizens, but for Green Citys girls and women, understanding is even more important than compliance. We must focus completely on the task of survival, which means we must focus on the present and the future. Trying to salvage the past is an act of self-indulgence that can lead to selfishness; you must avoid this at all costs. Only when each individual girl exchanges selfishness for selflessness, and sacrifices self-involvement for the care of others, can Green City achieve its destiny as a place of ingenuity, industry, and prosperity. You will be its foot soldiers, working hard to fulfill your role as the mothers of the new nation.

Sabine

I make it a rule to always leave the Clients house in the darkest part of the morning, the half hour before dawn, when the nights at its thickest and the Agency officers are at their slowest. This is the time of day I fear the most, out of all the hours in the day that pass me by like flies crawling in front of my face. The Client, a man whom I only know as Josephnone of us uses last names in this businessnods impatiently at all the rules as I set them down; hes done this many times before, and not always with me. To my relief, he behaves himself, wrapping his arms around me and contentedly sighing every few moments, not attempting anything more intrusive than those chaste embraces.

Within a half hour, I can tell by his regular breathing that hes fallen asleep. I never sleep when Im with a Client. Insomnia is a lifetimes curse without a nights reprieve, even though its precisely what makes me so good at what I do. I slip away from the bed, find the armchair in the room and sink down in it. I match my breathing to mimic Josephs as he shifts from left to right and back again. Normally I dont think, or daydream; I just sit there waiting for morning, knowing that the slightest tension in my body would be enough to wake him from his slumber. I dont want that.

But toward the early morning, when the alarm on my wrist begins to glow, and I come close for a last embrace, Joseph tightens his arms around me again.

Although its not allowed, sometimes I bend the rules and allow a Client a moment or two of comfort before extricating myself gracefully and heading for the door. Lin always tells us to be wary about who plays by the rules and who pushes the boundaries. Josephs expensive watch on the nightstand, his plush bedroom slippers by the door, the black silk sheets on the bed, and the low glowing lights sunk into recesses at regular intervals across the floor, making a chiaroscuro of the ceiling, all tell me that this is a man to push boundaries wherever he can.

Joseph, Ive had a lovely time with you. But now I have to leave. I turn around to smile at him, the smile that manages to smooth things over with anyone. Ive spent hours staring into the mirror, perfecting that smile. It doesnt come naturally.

Joseph raises himself up on one arm. His body was once powerful but now its on its way to fast decline: heavy, untoned shoulders, a neck that wrinkles and crepes around his throat, white hairs outnumbering the black ones still dotting his chest. Stay. I can afford to keep you all day if thats what you want.

I grimace, my back to him. Im sorry, Joseph. The rules are the rules. I have to be out of here before dawn.

But why?

You know why, I say, momentarily nonplussed. We all know whats at stake if were caught: the Agency has made sure to publicize all crimes well in the Flashes on the display, the Bulletins, even through door-to-door visits, something almost unheard of in this time where almost everything is done remotely and anonymously. All the more ominous when an Agency car is parked outside someones house and two officers, with their immaculate uniforms and unreadable faces, are educating someone inside about the repercussions of associating with illegals like me.

Joseph rests his hand lightly on my forearm. I know people. Nothing is going to happen to you or me. If you knew who I am

Its too dangerous for me to know who you are. Or for me to stay any longer than necessary. Now would you please let me get dressed?

Joseph sighs. But he doesnt give up. He follows me to the bathroom, standing in the doorway, turning his head away as I coat my skin in gold silicon powder, then put on my clothes. He studies my face as I cover my body with as much cloth in as little time as possible. He follows me to the door of his apartment, his forefinger lingering on the security button, circling it, taunting me with his nonchalance. Are you sure youre not going to change your mind?

The suns starting to rise, the sky shifting from black to smoky gray. In a few more minutes the blanket of night will start to lift from the horizon and the next Agency patrol will be on the street. Our cars are programmed to keep a two-hundred-yard distance from the patrols, and to abort the pickup if a patrol is on the same street as a Clients house. My car will simply never arrive. Stranded, Ill be spotted and my presence immediately messaged to the officers. Ill be arrested and taken in and my life, as I know it, will be over.

Joseph, let me go. Please.

My fear is an animal I cant hideIve never been able to completely control my expressionsbut for some reason my vulnerability assuages something in Joseph.

All right. But keep a night free for me sometime next week.

I nod, wishing I never had to see Joseph again. His eyes search mine for some sign of disappointment that I have to leave. My gaze is fixed steady on him, and his finger depresses the security button. The door slides open silently. I step in, exchanging the calculated danger of his apartment, and the greed that furnishes it, for the open territory of the illegal and the hunted.

I move down the stairs, pause, then creep to the doorway of the luxury apartment building where Joseph lives. My footsteps echo like gunshots in the giant marble-floored hall.

The robotic doorman hums quietly at the left of the entrance. Its just a computerized desk, where residents punch in for security and to collect messages, or to leave their own messages to complain about a malfunctioning cooling unit or request an extra display to be installed in the second bedroom, but Joseph likes to pretend its human, and makes fun of it for being stupid.

Im grateful for the desks stupidity. The gold powder that Im coated in will prevent the security systems from picking up my DNA on the scanners. The video camera wont get activated and I cant be identified as I walk into or out of any building in Green City. As for the other humans: most of the residents are asleep this early in the day. If anyone does see me, theyll keep their head down and pretend they cant see me either, like the doorman. No matter how many good-citizenship sessions they attend, now matter how much of the Handbook theyve memorized, nobody really wants to report methe filling out of voluminous forms, the interrogations: its just not worth the trouble.

My eyes scan the road for the unmarked car, and with a spasm of horror I see a dark blue Agency car with hologram plates sliding down the street toward the building. My heart starts to pound. I pull my head back in. For a moment Im afraid Im going to lose all sense of reality. I tremble as I stand in the doorway, counting slowly backward from a hundred.