The Not so Secret Agent Ch. 10

Arthur sipped the silky dark liquid. "That's really good... medicine Mr. Jakt; I feel better already."

"Have you gone to where Rika Chorna River spills into the lake?" Jakt asked.

Arthur nodded. "They had us repairing a washed out hiking trail on the north side of the river."

Jakt smiled crookedly. "We used to rent a little cabin over on the north bank and spend a week up there every summer. My boy caught his first fish right on that riverbank when he was only five years old. He just cast in his lure when a huge pike-perch struck, it was 60cm long at least; he refused all help and pulled it in all by himself." Jakt chuckled. "He got so mad when he found out I wanted to cook it, he grabbed it up in his arms and said he was taking it back home and letting it live in the bathtub." We finally compromised and let it go back into the river." Jakt's smile faded. "You know, that really doesn't seem like so long ago."

A couple glasses the wine made Arthur think less about the pain, now he simply felt exhausted, the sleepless night and the stressful morning took its toll. Jakt was still drinking when Arthur excused himself to go lay down a while.

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Arthur didn't sleep; he just rested. The fifty welts throbbed with every pulse; his wrists were sore too, he had pulled so hard to break free. After lying in bed for an hour, Arthur decided he had had enough; the dried sweat felt sticky and dirty.

Feeling absolutely subhuman and smelling like something dead, he managed to get up while keeping his legs nearly straight. Arthur groaned as he stiffly shuffled down the shadowy hallway; loose floor boards creaked underfoot, his metal collar reflected lamplight. In the front room Mr. Jakt had the door to his woodstove open; he crouched down stoking the fire. When Mr. Jakt looked up Arthur nearly said: "Fire Bad!" like Frankenstein's monster. He turned into the bathroom instead; Mr. Jakt never got his movie references anyway.

Arthur felt better after bathing; he got out his notebook and wrote a four page letter to his sister and then it was nearing church time. He told Mr. Jakt that he'd be out late and then Arthur took a deep breath and stepped out into the shockingly cold evening air. He had on his work boots and nothing else; Samantha insisted that the government issued orange poncho was simply too unfashionable to wear, even at night.

Arthur met Samantha at her host's house and then they boarded a bus and then a trolley took them the final distance downtown. They exited onto a wide stone walkway that led to the church. It was easy to see which people were heading to the Cathedral; all worshipers excepting penitents and criminals wore traditional black prayer robes.

Samantha marveled at how many people walked toward the Church on such a blustery evening: "Gotta be a couple hundred at least."

"Those robes don't look very thick either, and I think they're naked underneath..." Arthur watched as a particularly strong gust hit a group of worshipers as they climbed the polished marble stairs. "Yep... they're naked alright!"

"Ooo..." Samantha shivered. "I'm freezing my...everything off." Samantha hugged up close to Arthur as they waited in line to enter. "It's gotta be warm in there!"

When they passed through the two ancient wood and bronze doors Samantha and Arthur just watched and waited, trying to do what everyone else did. People sat on benches and removed their shoes. They stored their footwear in a long narrow side room lined with shelves. Arthur put two pair of criminal boots into a cubby space and when he came back out most of the worshipers had taken their places inside the gigantic main hall.

Arthur frowned. This didn't look like a Christian church at all. Where were criminals, foreigners, nonbelievers supposed to go? A slim young woman in a full length black dress saw their confusion and walked toward them.

Samantha whispered: "Do we have to kneel?"

"I don't think so..."

The priestess said a few words that Arthur didn't recognize, something from their scriptures maybe.

"Ma'am; this is our first time going to church... a Danubian service I mean and um... we don't know what to do." Arthur gestured: "This is Samantha Sherman, my name is Arthur Liggett."

As soon as she heard the accent she understood. The priestess spoke slowly and clearly, introducing herself with a name that Arthur was sure he couldn't pronounce without practice.

"It is good to have you here at the temple," the priestess handed Samantha the last copy of the hymns and seemed embarrassed that she didn't have one for Arthur.

"Thank you," Arthur said. "One's good enough ma'am... or uh... priestess, Samantha reads a lot better than I do anyway."

The priestess's brow furrowed: "Have you not been here long?"

"About half a year."

The priestess didn't approve. "Are you not in a language class?"

"Samantha is. I haven't really had the chance. I have been trying to teach myself though."

She tilted her head slightly, scrutinizing Arthur. "Have we met? You seem familiar."

Arthur shifted uncomfortably; he hated being recognized. "Uh... it's possible that you could have seen me on television or in the newspaper, I'm the uh... spy."

She took a sharp breath and nodded slightly. "Oh yes I... I remember." She looked to each criminal in turn in a friendly way: "You are both welcome here... please come this way."

Arthur and Samantha attended their first Danubian Church service that night; it was interesting but not nearly as weird as Arthur expected. It really didn't last long either, just a half hour or so. Before Arthur and Samantha left the young priestess even took the time to come all the way to the entrance just to thank them for attending.

The night was frigid and Arthur was sore but he definitely didn't want to say goodnight to Samantha yet so they took a bus to the criminal's club. The club's seats were less than half full and there was an instrumental group performing on stage. Samantha found a table in a shady corner; the band was finishing up as Arthur hobbled back with a couple drinks.

Arthur looked around curiously; he hadn't been inside the club in months. "Heck, the show's over already?"

"No," Samantha explained. "They leave the stage open certain times to let people talk... you know, about their sentences, the suffering, things they lost since their convictions... mostly they just want to get something off their chests... to be heard by people who know what they're going through."

Arthur took a sip; leaning his shoulder carefully against the wall he stood beside his seated girlfriend. "God, I miss real beer."

"Arthur, do me a favor... please don't go up there, you'd totally mess it up."

Arthur got all indignant then: "And just how do you know that I wouldn't have some pretty compelling things to say? I suffer too you know... I mean, you should taste this beer, it isn't even cold; and heck, I can't sit down right now, how bout that? And yesterday I got a letter from Tee and it turns out that my dog has a rash on his belly."

"Arthur," Samantha rolled her eyes. "No one wants to hear you complain about beer or how much your butt hurts..." Samantha stretched upright looking at the first speaker. "Hey... I know her, it's um... Katya, I work with her sometimes at the hospital."

Arthur figured the speaker was about Samantha's age; she had the typical dark brown hair made up in tight braids, broad across the brow, big expressive eyes that drew you in. She bit her bottom lip nervously before she began; Katya was obviously shy but she did have a good speaking voice once she got started. Arthur sipped his warm beer and listened. As he had expected it was an awfully depressing story.

The young woman was from one of the small agricultural villages to the east. She had never gotten into any trouble until she did something reckless in her seventeenth year. She had badly wanted a certain dress though she didn't have the money to buy it. It was, she said, a split second decision in the store's dressing room. She had the dress on, admiring herself in the mirror and she had just... slipped her old dress over the top and walked out.

Everyone in that small town had heard about the theft, though there was only one person who knew who the culprit really was. She had the dress hidden in the bedroom she shared with her little sister but she couldn't dare wear it without getting caught. It was no longer something that she desired; it became a source of constant worry and guilt.

Katya broke down crying when she told of the horrible day when she returned home from school with books in her hands. She had opened the door and inside the front room was her mother, sitting in a chair and holding that stolen dress in her lap. Her own parents had turned her into the police.

Now Katya lived like an outcast in the household of a distant aunt. She had been taken away from home, abandoned by family and friends, and made to live in shame. Someday she hoped to regain her honor and the trust people had lost in her. Katya had two more years left to serve, and unless the government deemed her trustworthy, she would have to spend the rest of her sentence inside the Rika Chorna collar zone.

Several more criminals spoke and most of them had similar stories of loss, or abandonment. Girlfriends or boyfriends who left them, family members who won't speak with them anymore; one young man, who was a senior in high school, told how his parents even made him get on his knees to speak. After hearing all that, Arthur started feeling better about his own family. Sure there were lazy bastards, dirt bags, crazies and cheaters but next to these unyielding and cold Danubians even his mother was starting to look like a saint.

Samantha went to the restroom and on her way back Arthur noticed that she stopped by a table in front of the stage and talked to several young women and a few guys she knew.

When she got back Arthur gestured toward the group. "So those are your friends from work?"

"Um, yeah." Samantha nervously took a drink.

"They aren't going to invite you over because of me, right?" Arthur asked. "Not going to share a table with the spy."

Samantha looked down at her glass. "They just know you from stuff they've heard... they... I don't know..." She sighed. "It's almost a religious thing..."

"They think I'm corrupted, a liar, an enemy, someone beyond redemption?"

Samantha shook her head. "They... I don't know... they just don't understand."

Arthur stood in silence and finished his beer. He wanted to fix this problem. Samantha shouldn't have to stay separated from her friends because of him. And most of all he didn't want to lose her.

Arthur understood why they shunned him, but didn't know what to do about it. Then, just as they were about to leave, a young criminal stepped up on stage and the crowd's demeanor changed; they didn't look friendly at all.

The young man was obviously very uncomfortable behind the microphone; his voice quivered as he introduced himself. The Danubians watched suspiciously as he made a public apology on stage, in front of his peers. Arthur couldn't understand everything but it seemed that the young man had broken some kind of big social taboo in the process of committing a theft, and then on top of all that, he had repeatedly lied to his family and friends.

With tears in his eyes he explained his actions, apologized, and then, after breaking down crying a couple times he regained some composure and vowed to redeem himself. The reaction of the crowd was remarkable to Arthur; they went from hostile to friendly in minutes. He was apparently forgiven just like that. This peculiar scene gave Arthur an idea for yet another plan.

That night Arthur just couldn't stop thinking about the speech. After trying to go to sleep for an hour Arthur climbed out of bed, grabbed his notebook and started scribbling out an apology speech that followed the general format of the one he had heard earlier, an hour later it was complete. Satisfied, Arthur put away the notebook and went back to bed, now all he had to work on was the stirring delivery!

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The next morning Arthur stepped off the bus in a bad mood. It was dark and cold. He had to report to the Ministry of Natural Resources even before sunrise. All the pain from the previous day's switching didn't help. Arthur pushed past several bus drivers, equipment operators, and clerks loitering about on the steps.

Inside was a surprise: the priestess he had met at church the day before was waiting on him, with a couple books in her hands.

"Arthur," She said. "I brought these for you."

"Um..." Arthur flipped through the workbook.

"Arthur, I expect you to complete those lessons in the next couple weeks; you can mail those back, and I will send you more."

Arthur was baffled: "But uh... why is..."

"Now, I don't want to hear any argument from you." The priestess spoke sternly but with a kind expression: "I checked up on you, Arthur Liggett; you have a university degree back in America so I know you can handle some basic textbooks."

"Yes ma'am..."

She raised a finger and reminded: "Priestess."

"Oh... Yes priestess... of course I will do my best."

The priestess left and Arthur hurried to the receptionist's desk; it was just two minutes until time to check in. Then he had to wait for a ride back up to the lake. Arthur decided to examine the books. The cheap paperback workbooks had the title printed in English, French and Spanish: An Introduction to the Danubian Language part 1 and 2. The priestess included a short handwritten letter inside the first book; a little puzzle to figure out.

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The Ministry of Natural Resources gave Arthur several days off during the week of the spring equinox. Unlike the Danubians, Arthur wasn't all that concerned about the equinox celebration; he had something entirely different on his mind.

The timing was right; he had practiced and practiced. It was time to go for it. The first day of spring seemed like a good time for a new start. Samantha was a nervous wreck and decided not to watch his speech.

The main room of the criminal club was about at half capacity. Arthur checked to make sure that Samantha's friends from work were there, right in front of the stage. Arthur signed up to speak, then went over to the lunch counter and ordered a plate of the hottest food the criminal's club had to offer.

The Enormous main hall was nearly full, rows of tightly packed tables arced in a semi-circle around the elevated stage. The lights dimmed and the first speaker nervously stepped behind the microphone to share his troubles with his criminal peers. The young man was very emotional, sincere, and repentant. Arthur watched closely, that was exactly the look he was hoping to pull off.

Arthur's food arrived but he waited until the 14th speaker got up on stage before he took a bite. Ten minutes later a tearful young woman finished her talk and it was time. Arthur forced himself to chew up the last red pepper and then he walked up on stage. With his face red, eyes watering, and sweat beading on his forehead, he stood behind the microphone facing a couple hundred criminals in the audience. Arthur began to speak as soon as the room grew quiet.

"I'm known by three names. My given name is Arthur Liggett, my official name is Criminal # 88588, but most people in this country know me as the American spy. The details of my crimes are common knowledge but the reason I'm here today is that I wanted to tell my side of the story."

The skeptical, suspicious looks he received were unsettling but not unexpected. The news media had painted Arthur as a villainous foreign agent intent on stealing Danubia's natural resources. Changing minds, however, was the whole reason for this speech. Arthur swallowed hard; his mouth was really starting to burn.

Arthur started out by describing his life before the ill-fated trip to Europe. Since he knew Danubians were obsessed with family life he talked about his family. Arthur didn't overtly lie but the truth was stretched nearly to the breaking point when it came to telling how close he was to his mother. Then, for the girls in the audience, he figured he'd throw in a tale of lost love: the heartbreaking story of the girl he left behind. Arthur decided to omit certain parts about the epic drunken two-weekend romance with Charlotte. For the dog lovers in the audience he even mentioned Lucky.

Then it was time for the meat of the speech. The story of how he became involved in espionage. He would walk a fine line. Realistic enough to be plausible, but he wanted to appear decent and virtuous enough for people to sympathize with. Arthur would play the part of a man who tragically let greed overcome his conscience.

When he got to the part about being offered money he paused dramatically, looked out into the audience and said what he hoped was a good emotion charged line.

"It was a very suspicious deal that he offered but I got greedy and... I took the money anyway." Arthur paused then, looking down as though he felt great shame at his sinful ways. He kept it brief though, not wanting to overdo it.

Next Arthur moved on to the action-packed sequence, the intrigue with Rumak, the tense trip to Rika Chorna, culminating with the confrontation between Rumak and the policeman.

"Then there was gunfire... three shots. And I... I found myself all alone, at a crime scene in a foreign country... I didn't know what to do so I slipped out the back door and I ran. It didn't take them long to find me."

With a pained expression, that thanks to the peppers was very real, Arthur studied the audience. He had their full attention now. Arthur focused on his timing, pausing four seconds to give the impression that he was having another one of his soul-searching moments.

Arthur briefly described his arrest and trial, and then he shifted into what Samantha suggested would be an effective tactic; using the betrayal of trust between his old boss and him to gain sympathy. The story of the phone call was mostly true. This part of the speech, Samantha insisted, needed to be tragic instead of angry. Arthur's nose was running some from the peppers. He sniffed a little and wiped tears out of his eyes.

"My old boss," Arthur said, "was surprised to hear from me."

'Arthur,' He said. 'I'm so sorry about what happened. Now, I don't want you to think that I knew what was going on, believe me, I was just as surprised as you were that this thing was illegal. I wish there was something I could do.'

"He seemed real friendly until I brought up the subject of his testimony. He paused for a long while, and then told me that the corporate lawyers just wouldn't allow him to expose the company to the financial liability or the scandal it would cause."

The audience seemed more sympathetic now. As he had hoped, the tale of his boss's calculating self-interest shocked the Danubians. Arthur paused and tried to look like the old bastard's betrayal deeply hurt him.

"After I failed to get Mr. Neal's testimony I had no legal grounds for retrial or reduced sentence, but my spokesman thought there was a small chance to work out a deal directly between the US and Danubian governments. So I contacted my congressman, the State Department, and everyone else I could think of who might help me but in the past eleven months I've received nothing but polite form letters back.

Now, I've come to the harsh realization that I'm not going to be released anytime soon. My situation here is difficult. The police blame me for their colleague's injuries, the general population thinks I'm an enemy of the state, and the American government considers me a liability. I realize, at this point, that I'm nearly alone."

He paused then, as tears and sweat ran down his cheeks. Arthur thought he maybe overdid it with the peppers; he wanted to look emotional, not like a burn victim. His tongue, lips, and throat were absolutely on fire but he forced himself to refocus on the speech; to make the impact he was looking for, he needed to finish strong.