The Gender Game Read online

  Viggo didn't need to say anything. He just stood there, glancing from me to Lee in cold disdain.

  "Dammit, Vi." Lee exhaled sharply. "I take risks and go to all this trouble to give you a sense of freedom, and this is how you repay me? Doing the first thing I forbade you to do?" Lee's grip around me tightened. "This'll be the last time I trust you." He turned to Viggo. "I understand of course if you need to report us, Viggo. Mark it as an infraction on my name. Even though I was following her, we were stretching the rules, no doubt about it. But I do promise you this will not happen again… We've just been having a difficult time with her adjustment. I hoped keeping her on a longer leash would help us make things work."

  I prayed that would get to Viggo. If it didn't, I didn't know what would. He had experienced firsthand the difficulties of a Patrus-Matrus marriage, with his own wife struggling with the constraints Patrus' laws put upon its female residents. I hoped there was a place of compassion within his heart that he would draw on to not judge us so harshly.

  Viggo's gaze remained sharp as it continued to roam my face. But then his jaw clenched, resoluteness setting in. "I'll let you off this time, since you were nearby. But if I do witness it again, I'm sure you understand I can't be so lenient…" He cleared his throat and averted his eyes, settling them on some distant point at the end of the road. "As you know, here in Patrus, rules are rules."

  17

  After Viggo strode away, both Lee and I let out a long, slow sigh.

  "God," he muttered, turning his back on the warden and rubbing his face in his hands. "That was not something I ever want to repeat." He glanced at me. "What on earth happened?"

  My relief gave way to mild irritation. "What happened to you? What took you so long?"

  "I had to go pick something up." He gave me a meaningful look. I guessed that meant more explosives or some kind of other equipment necessary for our mission. "But things got delayed. How did you wind up with Viggo?"

  "I was hanging around the gym," I began. I decided to omit the little sparring match I'd had. I didn't see the point in mentioning it. It would only make him more nervous. "I tried to keep myself away from the reception area, to avoid awkward questions. I ended up roaming around the training halls. When I finally got your text and was making my way back up to the street, I bumped into Viggo. Like, literally bumped into him. My mustache got knocked off and he noticed. I figured it was best to just come clean after that—as clean as I could."

  Lee nodded as he raised the seat of the motorcycle and pulled out our helmets. "You did the right thing. It's likely he's seen this trick played before. I'm certain we're not the first couple to think of it."

  I found the idea quite revolutionary as we mounted the motorcycle and Lee kicked us off down the street. That this could be an old trick played by women who found themselves in Patrus but wanted more freedom hadn't occurred to me. Where had Lee actually gotten such a realistic costume? Had he really made it all himself, or had he purchased it? I guessed there must be some kind of underground market for them and I wondered how many women I'd mistaken for men since arriving here in Patrus. Especially at night, when streets were packed and it was far easier to go unnoticed.

  Maybe some Patrian females aren’t all that different from Matrian ones after all.

  Maybe others, too, have experienced the rush I did back in that gym.

  As we traveled back through the city toward the mountains, I found myself eyeing everyone on the sidewalks, examining the faces of the men and trying to spot any slight hint of femininity. But then Lee started traveling too quickly and I could no longer continue with that game.

  * * *

  "Anyway, none of this is the end of the world," Lee said as we entered the house. "In fact, we could twist this to our advantage."

  "What are you thinking?" I asked, removing my shoes at the doorway.

  We entered the kitchen and sat down around the table.

  "Where's your notebook?" he asked.

  "Here," I said, digging a hand into my jacket pocket and handing it to him.

  Lee stroked his jaw as he paged through it, leaning back in his chair. "Hm. Okay. Interesting… And good. So far, he has nothing booked the night of the banquet. As you know, we can't have him having an alibi that evening…"

  "How do we turn my collision with Viggo today into an advantage?" I asked again.

  "Well, I was actually surprised that Viggo was so lenient with me. He isn't the type to dish out leniencies." Lee paused, glancing up from the notebook. "As hardened as he seems on the outside, he obviously does have weaknesses… I think he has a thing for Matrian girls."

  "Well… he married one, so I guess he'd have to…"

  Lee sat forward. "I think our strategy from now on—at least in regards to you—has become a lot simpler."

  "What do you mean?"

  "This further development of… rapport… between the two of you, shall we say, could be used to bridge the gap between him and us more."

  "Bridge the gap? Why would we—?"

  "We'll need to find a way for you to keep him isolated on the night of the banquet. To keep him away from anyone else's eye. In order to do that, you're going to have to make him go somewhere… Don't ask me where yet—that's something we'll have to figure out. But for any of this to happen, he's going to need to trust you. Gain his trust, and we have more control over him when the night arrives."

  I lowered my brows at Lee. I would hardly describe what had happened today as "further development of rapport".

  "Of course, another thing that works to our advantage in all this," Lee went on, "is that he needs money. That's the reason he fights in the first place; it pays well compared to other jobs…"

  I crossed my arms over my chest, waiting for him to tie all his threads together.

  He stood up and moved to the kitchen counter. Planting his palms down on the surface, he turned his back on me. He fell quiet for about a minute before drawing in a thoughtful breath and turning round again. His blue eyes rested on mine with a gleam of optimism—enthusiasm, almost—before he said, "Let's meet Viggo again tonight. I have a proposal to discuss with him…"

  18

  After Lee revealed his plan to me, we spent the rest of the day at home, monitoring Viggo's movements. According to the gym schedule, he wasn't due to visit the gym tonight, nor did he have any fights going on. Which meant he would in all likelihood head straight home after work. As evening came around, we watched his red flashing dot make its way toward the mountains, straight from the city center. Once he'd entered the foothills, Lee was confident enough about his direction for us to leave ourselves.

  I didn't need to wear a suit this time. We rode out of the driveway on Lee's motorcycle, but instead of taking the usual route down to the city, we headed further upward, higher into the peaks.

  It got chillier as we ascended, and I found myself grateful Lee had suggested I wear a jacket. It was silent up here too and soon we came to the end of the residential area and entered a long, deserted stretch of winding road that led us northward toward Viggo's territory.

  It was a pity that the sun had gone down, as the verdant landscape sped away on either side of us. I imagined this place would have looked stunning during the day, with brooks bubbling beneath bridges, lots of trees. We reached an open plateau, allowing us an unrivaled view of Patrus beneath us. It was a fairly clear night, and beyond the glittering sprawl of Patrus City, I could make out the deep black stretch that was the river and then, beyond, the hazy glow of Matrus' borders. I couldn’t say that the sight made me feel homesick. Anxious to get back, because of the prize that awaited me, but not homesick.

  Lee thundered the motorbike forward at a speed that made me nervous. "How much longer?" I asked him. My deep voice hadn’t worn off yet.

  "Maybe ten minutes."

  Ten minutes proved to be about accurate. A bungalow—which was really not much more than a glorified log cabin—came into view at the end of a dirt track. A familiar beetle-b
lack motorcycle was parked outside its porch, next to a three-wheeled trailer that I guessed he used to transport larger objects. The building looked like only a one-bedroom, with perhaps enough space for a small living room, a kitchen and a bathroom. The large square windows were closed off by shutters, though a spill of warm light glowed through their cracks.

  As Lee killed the engine and we got off the motorbike, we stood in silence for a few seconds, taking in the peaceful atmosphere. It was like another world up here. The middle of nowhere. The closest houses were settled nearer to the foothills, miles beneath us by road.

  Lee reached for my hand, giving me a reassuring squeeze before the two of us approached the front door.

  Lee knocked three times and my stomach clenched as I caught the sound of a door clicking, then heavy footsteps moving toward us.

  A bolt was drawn, and then the front door creaked open. My lips unconsciously parted as Viggo towered before us in the doorway, bare-chested. He wore a pair of loose black pants, and clutched in one hand was a roll of cotton wool, in the other some kind of medicated ointment. His bare knuckles were red and glistening.

  "Mr. Bertrand?" Viggo said, his eyes widening as they swept from him to me.

  "Viggo," Lee replied calmly. "I do apologize for intruding like this. I won't take up much of your time, but I would like to speak to you about something."

  Viggo paused, still frowning, before allowing us inside.

  We stepped into a narrow hallway lit by a hanging gas lamp, its walls and ceilings made of logs. A rough wicker carpet lined the floor, and the hallway opened up to four different rooms.

  Viggo led us through the first door to our left, into a sitting room. A fire crackled in the hearth and before it sat one sturdy armchair. That was the only piece of furniture in the room, save for a low table upon which sat a metal jug and a damp cloth. Viggo set down his bandages and ointment on the table. He grabbed a shirt which hung at the back of his armchair and pulled it on before turning back round to face us.

  "It's about Violet," Lee said, his arm moving to my waist. "We're trying to figure out how to make things work in the long term. As you noted, she has an adventurous mind. Even though her work was domestic, she still of course has the spirit of any Matrian woman… My days will become much busier soon. I will have to return to work, and I will not have time to accompany her places… But our meeting earlier got me thinking, and I have come to you with a proposal."

  Viggo's gaze froze on Lee, his right brow lifting.

  "You spend the most part of every day in the city," Lee said. "I would like to appoint you as Violet's second guardian and have her accompany you for at least a few hours every day, when it's convenient. It will get her out of the house on a regular basis, and I would pay you, naturally, for the service."

  Whatever Viggo might have been expecting Lee to say, it sure wasn't that.

  "What do you mean, accompany me?"

  "I mean just that," Lee replied. "Let her walk with you. Be your shadow. It will allow her to explore the city, as she's itching to do, and gain a greater understanding of our culture and residents."

  In other words, it'll be like walking a dog. As my husband, Lee had full right to appoint guardianship of me to any other man, with or without my consent.

  Viggo's green eyes rested on me, his expression serious. At least he appeared to be considering the proposal.

  "I'm not sure this would be approved by head office," he said.

  "I doubt you'll have trouble," Lee said. "It's not breaking any laws to bring a girl with you to work."

  "Hm… How many hours exactly?" Viggo asked, resuming his focus on Lee.

  Lee shrugged. "It can vary. I'm sure we could come to an understanding. Though it would make sense if she came into the city with me in the morning, for work; I could bring her to you, and then either you could drop her back home during lunch break, or you could bring her back to the lab and I could drive her home with me at the end of the day… Whatever works; I'm flexible. As for payment," Lee went on, "I'll pay you the same hourly rate you ought to be receiving as an inner-city warden. Just keep a tally of the hours and let me know."

  That ought to be an attractive proposition for Viggo.

  He leaned against his chair, glancing down at his knuckles, falling into thought. Lee and I waited patiently.

  Finally he looked up. "All right," he said. "I'll accept the offer, but understand that I will back out at any time if things get… complicated."

  "Naturally," Lee said, a relieved smile spreading across his face. "Assuming things do go smoothly though, I would say this arrangement could go on for at least a few months, depending on how long Violet takes to adjust to our culture… And could we start tomorrow?"

  Viggo rose to his feet, slanting me a glance. "I suppose."

  "Great," Lee said. "I'm planning to go back to work in the morning, so I'll drop her off with you on my way to the lab if that suits you. Where do you plan to be at, say, eight-forty?”

  "Head office," Viggo replied.

  "Perfect," Lee said, rubbing his hands together. "Now, we won't eat up your evening any longer. Thanks again for your time. I hope this can be an arrangement that benefits us both equally."

  Viggo merely nodded before shaking Lee's hand. I instinctively reached mine out too—forgetting that this wasn't something done in Patrus. But before I could withdraw it, to my surprise, Viggo accepted my hand and shook it firmly. Beneath his layers, maybe he's a rebel like me.

  Our gazes locked for three tense seconds.

  Then Lee took my arm and led me to the exit.

  19

  The next morning, I washed and changed into pants and a shirt and opted to wear my flat shoes again, since I'd likely be doing a lot of walking.

  I couldn't deny that the idea of spending hours with Viggo was daunting. I didn't know what we'd talk about. I imagined us spending time in awkward silence. But that wasn't how it was supposed to go. I needed to try to make him warm to me. To even become his friend, if that was possible. Viggo seemed to guard himself against everyone, a friend only to himself. But there had been that handshake. That little crack in his exterior I might just be able to widen.

  Lee and I made our way through rush hour and into the city. We passed the lab and he drove me to a tall gray building with a pointed roof near Crescent River. This was the wardens' head office, apparently. I didn't get to see much of it though, before Viggo appeared, waiting for us.

  "Thanks again," Lee said, reaching for the small of my back and pushing me closer to Viggo. "You have my number, right? Just let me know if you decide to drop Violet back at lunchtime, or if she'll stay with you until the end of the day. See how it goes."

  Viggo nodded.

  "See you, then," Lee said before returning to his motorbike and riding away.

  Viggo and I stared at each other.

  "So, uh…" He nodded up the road, to our right. "My transport's that way."

  My mouth dry, I followed him up the busy road to where he'd left his motorcycle. He had me sit on the seat first, and I was relieved to feel my fingers curve around a metal bar at the base of the seat, meaning I didn't have to clutch Viggo for dear life as we roared into the road.

  We wound our way deeper into the center of town—not far away from the alleyway where I'd bumped into him the other night—and he parked on a street lined with shops.

  "This way," he muttered, jerking his head further up the road.

  He stalked forward, and I hurried to match his pace. After allowing the two of us a couple of minutes of silence, I asked, "So what does your day actually consist of as a warden?" I was genuinely curious. I wondered what the similarities were between the jobs of wardens here and in Matrus.

  Viggo's eyes remained straight ahead of us. "Various things," he said vaguely. "During the daytime, there aren't usually a lot of incidents. It's on night shifts when things tend to get more… disordered."

  "Disordered in what way?" I asked him.

  "Thi
s city is at a junction with the mountains. There's a whole mix of guys who pass through, many of them of the opinion that they are above rules. We watch mostly for thieves, illegal substance dealers, traffickers, and of course… potential strays." Here, he glanced my way.

  "What do you do with 'strays' if you find them?" I asked.

  "It's our job to keep them off the streets," he said, turning a corner. "Those we find are taken to Gerter House—a shelter on the other side of town—before reintegration is attempted. Having them roaming the city merely makes it a target for the exact kind of men we work to keep out."

  "Which are…?"

  "The dregs from Porteque, basically." He seemed to sense my questioning stare as he added, "A spread of towns in the mountains, further west."

  "Oh." Gerter House. I hadn't known they had an official shelter for women. I guessed they had to put them somewhere though, especially if Matrus didn’t accept them—the Patrus-born females. "What causes women to become strays in the first place?"

  "They're mostly runaways."

  "And how are they reintegrated?" I ventured. I was aware that we were skirting a sensitive topic.

  He paused as we approached a road. He looked left and right before herding me across it to the other side. "The first step is to find out where they came from, who their guardian is. Once that's discovered, a team identifies the reason for their wandering. If they ran away like most, they're returned with a cautionary warning. If the issue is more complex, like abandonment, then… well, some women grow old in Gerter House," he finished with a grim clench of his jaw.

  That was depressing.

  We lapsed into silence as we continued Viggo's route through the city. His eyes were sharp as a hawk's as he glanced around. I noticed the way others responded to his gaze, quickly averting their attention and continuing about their business. Though many of them lingered on me a little longer. Maybe they thought I was a stray who'd been caught.