The Not so Secret Agent Ch. 05

After a pause he looked at his client in a tired frustrated way. "As for you, the additional punishment that the judge ordered will be carried out this morning. The way this will happen is that Officer Stashak and her partner will come to my office, handcuff you and take you into one of the rooms in the basement. Only the two officers, a judge, and myself will be present for your switching. There will be twenty-five strokes but other than that it will be the same as your first switching." Here he paused and picked up his phone.

"I'm going to have my secretary get me something for my headache. Arthur, would you like some coffee or something to eat? No?"

Ralkliv took his pills and poured a cup of coffee. "Tomorrow you need to come by my office at seven in the morning to pick up the paperwork that transfers your custody to the Ministry of Public Works for the next three months. You're going out of the city with a work crew that's stationed in a town west of here, so I may not see you again until September."

Arthur sighed: "A switching and three months in a hard labor camp... Spokesman that really doesn't sound very lenient."

"No, just average I'm afraid. Even though the prosecutor requested leniency in exchange for your testimony the judge had the final say and I suppose she wasn't impressed."

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Officer Stashak had an unexpected treat on the 9th of June. There was an official memo from the Ministry of Justice waiting on her when she went to pick up her morning assignments. The American Spy had slipped up and earned himself another beating.

She smiled at the thought of punishing the criminal who had wrecked so many lives. Stashak thought criminal # 88588 deserved to be executed for what he and his partner did. While she couldn't take his life, Officer Stashak was determined to exact the most suffering she possibly could from him.

Two hours later she had Criminal #88588 securely strapped down and ready for his punishment. Officer Stashak flexed the switch in her hands just like the last time he was at her mercy. She struck him hard across the buttocks and then waited for the pain to increase. She and her partner admired the strength of the first hit as the white line on his skin turned to red and began to swell. Below the first welt she tapped to get her aim then stuck another fierce blow.

The twenty-fifth stroke nearly made him cry out, nearly. His body trembled with pain but he had remained relatively quiet during the punishment. Next time would be different she promised herself.

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In the wide grassy courtyard of the Ministry of Public Works hundreds of criminals came and went. Teams of Public Works employees kept the criminals moving along at a brisk pace, not unlike cattle being pushed through a sale barn. Arthur stood in several different lines. He got his paperwork stamped and stamped again, his picture taken, his fingerprints pressed on another document and finally, at the end of the line, an irritable clerk seated at a large metal desk took his paperwork and handed him a ticket bearing his official name and group number.

Arthur was sent out the door to join his group. Criminals lined up alongside a row of buses that were parked in the courtyard; each bus had a number on the side. Arthur's ticket had group 6 stamped on it. He walked along the circular drive past bus 8, bus 3, bus 17, and bus 25. Arthur started to feel a little better; the criminals who were standing in those lines didn't seem all that upset; they carried on conversations in a normal manner. Perhaps the hard labor camp wasn't going to be as bad as he feared after all.

The next group, though, changed his mind. That miserable group of men all had something in common: every one of them had been recently beaten. As he got closer, Arthur cringed; group 6 was painted on the side of the bus. For what seemed like the fiftieth time in the past two days Arthur tried to reassure himself that it couldn't possibly get any worse. He took a deep breath, got in line and like the rest of group 6, he waited in silence.

Bus 6 turned west toward the mountains that divided the Upper Danubia into east-west halves. Thirty minutes later the bus arrived at the city of Novo Sumi Ris. This was the center of the Danubian silver mining industry; every load of ore came by rail through this small but industrious mountain town. The crushing, smelting, and refining went on all day, giving the dusty collection of rail lines, cheap housing, and factories a sulfurous metallic smell.

Steep forested slopes hemmed in the town to the north and a mountain stream cut a narrow gorge into the overgrown tangle of willows, brambles, and bedrock to the south. Rows of buildings crowded onto the only flat ground available: narrow strips of land to either side of the train tracks. Novo Sumi Ris didn't look so much like it built the railroad tracks, but rather the other way around.

A contingent of guards awaited the criminals as they unloaded from bus 6. The collars' electronics were useless outside of the Rika Chorna collar zone so the guards used more crude measures to control the criminals' movements. Ten criminals at a time had to line up and then drop to their knees so the guards could fasten their collars together on a long chain. As a guard locked the chain onto his collar's loop Arthur glanced back at the rest of group six, all hooked together like fish on a stringer. Further down the road he could see a group of about twenty female criminals coming up the street.

Group 6 marched through town to a fenced-in complex of metal buildings adjacent to the railroad tracks. As they stopped by the gate to the men's barracks the group of female criminals that Arthur had noticed earlier walked past. When he heard someone speaking English he couldn't make himself look. It can't be, he told himself, there must be other Americans here.

"Arthur." The voice said: "Oh my god Laura! Look it's Arthur!"

There can be no doubt, Arthur realized. The chains, the sulfurous smell, the futility of trying to escape these two: it all made sense. He had passed through the turnstile of Hell!

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Arthur didn't sleep much that first night. For one reason his canvas cot had an aluminum bar on the end that he kept banging his head on, another was that freight trains rolled past every couple hours.

Once after nodding off Arthur dreamed of the beach in Washington State that his family used to visit when he was a child. Huge ocean waves rolled in and crashed against the rocks throwing a spray of salty mist in the air. His father and a five-year-old Tee were examining a big crab that the surf tossed onto the beach. Arthur climbed up one of the jagged outcrops that protruded into the sea. Then he glimpsed an especially large swell. It grew like a dark mountain rising out of the Pacific and came ashore with such force that the ground shook under foot...

Arthur awoke in a panic and stood up. There was no wave, just another freight train passing through town. After being startled awake for the third time in one night he decided to stay up and get dressed. Getting dressed... looking around he remembered where he was.

The barracks had a line of twenty-five cots along each side, with about three feet in between cots. There was a tin roof overhead and a concrete floor. To the north: a primitive restroom and a water spigot. The most soundly built part of the whole complex was the high perimeter fence topped with razor wire.

Just as the eastern sky brightened guards came to take the criminal work crew to the mess hall. There were several other crews and five shotgun-wielding guards present at this high security breakfast. The food was surprisingly good, Arthur thought, far better than the meals that he or Jakt tried to cook. Mr. Jakt's idea of breakfast was a bowl of plain oatmeal, bread, and water; whoever was cooking back in the kitchen at least knew how to make biscuits and fry eggs.

Then it was off to work. The group put on their issued orange work boots, leather gloves, and hard hats. Fifty men chained together wearing just these three items marched through the middle of town. Arthur was sure this was one of the weirder sights he had ever seen, but residents on the street seemed to take no notice. The guards marched group 6 down the paved street that paralleled the railroad tracks for a kilometer then they turned up a smaller road that squeezed between the smokestacks of the refinery complex and a row of rusty warehouses. The road went upslope to the forested hills northwest of town.

The worksite was a long abandoned mine on the steep slope a hundred feet above the road. There were multiple shafts cut into the cliff near the top of the slope and a thick talus deposit extended down almost to the edge of the road. After Arthur and the rest of group 6 climbed to the flat spot near the mine the guards removed their chains and ordered them to kneel as the work foreman arrived.

Though Arthur couldn't understand all the foreman's words, it was obvious what the problem with this location was. The old shafts had undermined the integrity of the slope resulting in occasional landslides that spilled onto the road below. The hillside would have to be blasted back and terraced to reduce the overall slope. That sort of job produced a lot of debris and that's where criminal work crew 6 came in.

After an exhausting day at work the crew was re-chained and marched back in to town. Arthur ate a huge supper, bathed using the soap and metal bucket he was issued, and then collapsed on his cot to rest. Just as he lowered himself down on his stomach he heard a woman call out his number. Arthur struggled to his feet and lumbered outside. An irate female guard stood by the gate with two kneeling criminals behind her.

Arthur started to get down on the ground too but the woman motioned him to stop. She spoke slowly and clearly so he was able to understand most of her words.

"Criminal # 88588 you are American?"

"Yes, officer."

"These are also Americans, but they do not know Danubian language. You teach girls Danubian after work."

This was one of those times that Arthur thought Rumak had gotten the better deal.

The stern woman pulled out her switch and waved it about to make a point.

That apparently wasn't a question, Arthur realized. "Yes officer."

"Teach well or girls and Criminal # 88588 get hurt. Tell girls that you teach them every day after work. That will be all."

Samantha and Laura remained kneeling on the ground even after the guard was out of sight. Arthur could see the switch marks from their judicial punishments two days ago had turned dark but there were a few more recent welts across their shoulders now.

"Oh, just get up already," he said. "She's gone."

The girls cautiously stood up. Arthur could tell they were close to crying again so he attempted to get them focused on the task at hand. "You two have to learn to speak the language, and unfortunately that guard ordered me to teach you. I don't want to hear any excuses; you're going to learn the few words and phrases that I know. We will meet here every day after supper. Now let's just go somewhere quiet and do the first lesson before I fall asleep."

Samantha broke her silence: "Arthur, the people are so mean here, they hit us and chained us up, and... and..."

Arthur nodded gently. "I'm so sorry that happened to you Samantha, but it's going to be alright, we'll get through this together, I promise." Arthur's eyes narrowed. "See, now that's the sort of thing I would say if I Really Gave A Shit! I don't guess you noticed the switch-marks on my skin? The Judge had me beaten for the second time in a month because of you, and she sent me here for three months hard labor also because of you and your stupid drugs!"

Laura paused from crying. "I'm really sorry we got you in trouble Arthur, It's not right..."

"If I had just one wish right now," Arthur groaned as he rotated his shoulders, stretching aching sore muscles. "It would be for the energy to strangle you both. You hid... your Skittles... in an ashtray, after I warned you!" Arthur put both wrists forward. "Why didn't you just walk up to a cop and say: here's my drugs officer, would you arrest me please?"

Samantha hung on the edge between anger and despair. "You..." She choked back a sob. "You got caught too." Her lip quivered and tears rolled down her cheeks as she trembled and cried silently.

Arthur took a long breath, he was simply too exhausted to stay angry. "Yeah," he admitted. "For a spy I'm not all that elusive."

"Listen," Arthur tried hard to concentrate. "You know, last week, at the restaurant, when I told you about how criminals lead fairly normal lives? I lied. I guess I was embarrassed about it at the time but the truth is that criminals are nothing more than property here and you can't expect to be treated like human beings any more. That's over with."

Arthur looked both traumatized girls in the eyes. "This place scares me too, I understand, but you've got to toughen up and try to help yourselves. These guards have no pity for criminals, especially foreigners like us, and when they give an order they expect it to be carried out. So if you want to help me and help yourselves just try to learn everything I can teach you." Arthur half yawned half laughed. "Of course with that angry guard threatening to beat us all to death, getting motivated shouldn't be a problem."

"Oh god!" Laura cried. "That's what she said?"

"Well... not to death." Arthur laughed. "Said something like: 'teach well or you and the girls will get hurt'. Not a very friendly sort is she?"

"She hit us today, with her switch, I don't even know why." Laura absently tried to cover her naked body with her arms. "They call her something like 'maristrika.'"

"Hmm... a title or rank maybe." Arthur guessed. "I noticed all that brass on her uniform. Could mean captain or major or whatever." Arthur thought of something. "So, I'm just curious. I know I got sent here for not reporting a crime, how did you two end up here?"

Samantha looked down avoiding his eyes; Arthur could tell she was deeply ashamed of herself. "You watched our trial. The judge was angry with us for disrespecting the court; yesterday morning we were brought back into her chambers. She sent us here for three months. She said that the guards here would teach us to respect authority."

"What did your parents do? Are they still in the country?"

Samantha's looked down at the dusty grass and barely more than whispered: "I don't know; we were supposed to leave Monday morning. The police arrested us Sunday night, then there was our trial the next day and after that I was too afraid and messed up to ask questions." She paused for a couple seconds and almost imperceptibly shook her head. "I don't know if I want to see them now; I don't want anyone to see me like this... I don't want anyone to know what the police did to me. I'm too ashamed. I can't face them now."

Arthur nodded; he couldn't help feeling some sympathy. "I know what you mean. Listen, there's no point in me being mad at you two for getting me in trouble. And I really can't blame you for bringing up my name during interrogation; I know what those bastards are like. You did something stupid and so did I. What's done is done... let's just forget about it. We've got enough problems already. So..." Arthur shrugged: "Ready to start class?"

Samantha wiped away tears and nodded.

Laura was still trying to cover herself, folding an arm across her breasts and the other shielding between her legs. "Yeah."

Arthur quickly glanced around for guards. "You better not do that, Laura. Criminals aren't allowed to cover themselves ever... that may be why they hit you today."

Laura sadly nodded and put her hands down to her sides.

Arthur pointed northward. "Right over there, next to the perimeter fence; now that's a near perfect classroom, just needs a little fixing up." Arthur started and then looked back at the girls. "Well, come on; don't want to be late for your first day of class do you?"

The three criminals made their way over to a shaded area beneath an enormous oak. Arthur broke a stick into a sharp point, got down on one knee and scratched a Danubian word into a patch of bare clay. "This," Arthur said, "means 'yes' its pronounced 'doc' just like it looks."

After an hour of Arthur's Danubian language class Samantha and Laura could say their official names, and three essential phrases: yes officer, no officer, and I don't understand officer. That was good enough for day one, he thought. Arthur was so exhausted that not even the trains woke him up that night.