Ninety-one: The war is over

I had a whole cell to myself, when I woke up. I heard the sounds of people being beaten and their grunts of pain. In the cells beside me, all the other prisoners who I thought had escaped sat together in clumps. They looked afraid and downcast. Especially the women. The men surrounded the women who huddled at the back of the cells as if to form a protective barricade. In the cell beside me, Mr Raring and Mr Cooper looked like they had undergone a severe beating. Both their faces were so swollen that I wondered if they could speak or see out either eye at all.

The doctor had tricked me into this. He set me up. I was in so much trouble. What was Kiran going to say or do? What was going to happen to all of us? Did I have the will to make it through anymore pain or shame? Worthless, I was. Disgusting. Dirty. Wretched. Not worth keeping alive.

Outside, I heard angry voices, but couldn't make out what was being said. My crutches were still out in the corridor. I wiped my eyes, staying curled up in the straw.

"Don't worry, Jean," whispered a slurred voice from next door. Alistair's voice. "We're all right. You're all right too. You're going to be fine."

I curled myself into a tighter ball under my blanket, so that my head disappeared into the stuffy dimness beneath and closed my eyes. There was nothing to say. Nothing to do. Nobody was ever going to believe that I hadn't done anything. Not if Doc and Whistlor had seen fit to punish me. Anyway, I didn't feel well. Moving hurt and made everything spin oddly.

There were shouts of celebration outside. Music, singing and revelry. The prisoners and I guessed that the war was over. Kiran was back. At least, I hoped he was. I hoped he was safe and unhurt. What was he going to do with me? Whose story was he going to believe?

Over the next few days, Alistair tried to talk to me a few times. Food and water was brought, but I didn't have the heart or appetite for it. I wasn't hungry. I just remained in a tightly curled up ball, trying not to relive the memories that were taking over my life now. Either it was my imagination or my brain had recorded in minute detail everything that had happened. Where I had been touched next. Where I had been pinched next. Wandering hands had drawn patterns on my lower abdomen that had elicited set reactions from my muscles down there. I certainly hadn't taken part in it. It merged with the torture from when Aylissa was here. It reminded me of those times in Ibis Headquarters when I was at the mercy of snickering men.

Other prisoners came and went with guards. Likely for questioning, since they often returned in worse conditions than they had left in.

I made no move. Had it been my fault? Had I really been planning an escape or to help the prisoners to make an escape at the back of my mind. It wasn't exactly as if I had been innocent of that. So what had happened was my fault. I should have known better and stayed away from the prisoners. Having concern for my own countrymen after it had been my plan that had gotten them captured had been my guilt talking. I should have just swallowed it and stuck it out.

But I didn't want to be on the Boskies' side anymore. Would my own government still shoot me if I went back with Mr Cooper and Alistair? If I had truly gotten them free?

~~~

When the prisoners were informed they were to be repatriated, there were whistles and cheers.

"Home! We're goin' home!"

"What about Jean?" Alistair asked, but the soldiers didn't reply.

A hearty meal was brought that night. I could smell it, but I didn't want it. I wasn't hungry. I hadn't been hungry for a while. For some reason, just the thought of food made my stomach hurt more. The full ache wasn't going away. It made me feel nauseous when I moved.

"Jean," said Alistair. "You've got to eat something. You've barely eaten or moved for days. Jean!"

"Don't bother," Mr Cooper said. "You can guess as well as I can that the Boskies are keeping her. Probably as a slave. Better than her going back with us and still being executed."

"Bastard doctor set her up and they're still going to punish her? I told Kiran, but he didn't seem to care. What are they going to do to her? It's partially because of her that they won the war so quickly."

"At least we know they won't kill her. Anyway, it's got nothing to do with us. I'm just glad they're sending us home."

"Sending you home," said a dry and bitter voice. "Not all of us get to be so free."

"They're not sending you home?"

"You'll have to get a new partner. Our government doesn't want me back after the complaint you sent through via the Boskies. The Boskies want to keep me for my blood and semen, it seems. For now, anyway."

"Your blood," Mr Cooper snorted. "Semen."

"Or genes. Whatever," Mr Raring said. "They've claimed me as a Bosky traitor and I'll probably live behind bars for the rest of my life. Not unlike Jean, I imagine. She had a plan beyond ending the war you know. She helped the Boskies only because it was the fastest way to end the war. Bevan, stop looking at me like that. What do you expect her to do when that doctor can do what he did - you saw it - and has a bomb implanted in her? They've got her family, all right?"

A long pause.

"There is one thing I agree with their doctor," Mr Cooper said.

"What?"

"She is a menace and had to be controlled somehow. She's managed to hide her intelligence from us from the beginning. She's already a felon and you tried to help cover up for her."

"That situation wasn't entirely her fault. You agreed that we'd blame it all on Alfred Barrel."

"But now you're not coming back with me."

"There's nothing I can do about it."

"Isn't there?"

"I thought you wanted me out of your way, Bevan? Aren't I always cramping your style? Don't you still suspect me of being a Bosky sympathiser?"

"If I don't know you by now, who does?" Mr Cooper snorted. "If anything, you're a Jean sympathiser. You stand up for her every time. You push the boundaries to protect her. She's the only weak spot I've ever seen you develop in all these years."

"There you go," said Alistair. "You've worked it out at last. About time."

"Why? Why her?"

"She reminds me of someone I once knew."

"You mean someone like you? Or your mother?"

There was obviously a lot more background and a story behind it, because there was a bite in Mr Cooper's voice. It sounded as if he was referring to more than what I could hear.

"A bit of both, you could say. I'm not going to talk about it again. Last time, you shot your mouth off to Merla about it. Nevertheless, Jean curling up and doing nothing is very unlike her. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she's given up."

"Given up? On what?"

"Everything, but she's too young to die. I doubt Kiran will allow it either. It's been just over three days already now."

"Nobody has even bothered to check on her."

"Is there any need to? I daresay that they're still trying to decide what to do with her and Kiran's the only one trying to save her."

"Not the only one," called a guard from where he'd been listening.

"Oh, well then," said Alistair. "That is a bit of a relief."

"Kiran's coming to see her soon," called the guard. "Don't worry. We won't let her starve herself to death."