The Gender Game Page 6

  She wore a long, brown, padded-shoulder dress that clung to her tall, slender frame. Her appearance was striking, but not beautiful. Her features were too severe for that. Her face was long, the apples of her cheeks sharp. Framed by thin, slanted brows, her eyes were narrow, their color almost black—like her short bob of hair.

  "Your Majesty," I murmured. I should've fallen to my knees before her immediately and kissed the back of her right hand. But I couldn't physically bring myself to do it. The same stinging resentment I'd felt toward Alastair surged up in me and I remained standing, holding her gaze.

  I had all but forgotten about Alastair until he dropped a gray folder onto the bed in front of me.

  "Everything is lined up," he said. "Your papers have been filed with the immigration department. After Her Majesty and I leave you, go through this folder carefully. You will need to memorize all details contained within it. Not only memorize; you must live them and breathe them. The photograph of our contact is also in the folder—keep it safe. You should be ready to step out of this door at midnight tonight. I will come to collect you and drive you to the port, where you will take a late ferry to Patrus."

  "O-Okay," I said, my eyes returning to the queen. As if mirroring me, consciously or subconsciously, she, too, had remained standing, even though there was a seat only a couple of feet behind her. Her gaze was still on me, and I suspected that it had never left. It was hard to read her expression though—what she might be thinking. How she might be judging me. Her face was stoic, quite devoid of clues. If she disapproved of my reception of her—or rather, lack of it—she wasn't showing it. Neither was Alastair. He appeared too busy with the matter at hand to think of much else.

  "I must also impress upon you one more thing, Ms. Bates," Alastair plowed on. "Something that, really, should be obvious to you by now, since you seem to be a sharp girl. But it's important for me to emphasize all the same." He stepped back from the bed and stood level with the queen. "Matrus cannot risk a war. Our nation is founded on peace. The type of mission you are about to undertake is, admittedly, not orthodox. But sometimes drastic actions are necessary, especially since we are simply reclaiming what is ours. Even despite this fact, if King Maxen got wind that you were sent on our bidding, if you somehow caused yourself or our contact there to be outed, the consequences could be crippling not just for you and him, but for your entire country. Patrus would see it as an affront—at a time when relations are already strained. Hence, you cannot be too careful. Pay close attention to everything our man tells you."

  I stared at the scientist as he finished. Even if I was successful in retrieving this mysterious egg, how would Patrus not suspect that Matrus was behind it? I didn't understand what would be stopping them from finding out, and then probably tracing everything back to me—the newly arrived Matrus girl with magic papers.

  The Court must have thought this through though. They weren't stupid. I supposed things would become clearer once I reached Patrus, but this truly did seem to be a tricky situation.

  Both Alastair and the queen exuded an air of tension as they studied me. I found myself considering again how curious it was that they should select me for this task out of all their citizens. Couldn't they have waited for a more suitable—and experienced—person? I would have thought that a man would be better suited. He could in theory blend in better and move about freely. They must be desperate to get the job done. The thought came with a feeling of empowerment—something I hadn't experienced in a while. If they're as desperate as me… then they need me, just as much as I need them.

  The queen stepped forward, closer to me, and rested her hands against the bedpost. Then she spoke for the first time.

  "Ms. Bates," she said, her tone deep and commanding. "You may not understand the full implications of this mission now. I do not expect you to. You are young. But if you keep your courage, if you pull through this with strength and determination, you will go down as a hero to your people. In spite of your past, you are still a child of Matrus. And now you must fight for her. You must bear this responsibility with tenacity. With enthusiasm and passion. You have a nation behind you, Ms. Bates. During whatever trials you may face, always remember that."

  She let her words hang in the air before pursing her lips and giving me a firm nod. I supposed that she expected me to feel roused now. Raring to go. Honored at the opportunity to put my life on the line. It was my home that I was fighting for, after all.

  But I didn't feel anything like this. Instead, my mind was ticking.

  "Your Majesty," I said, bowing my head just a touch. "I understand the weight of this responsibility, and what is at stake should I fail. For this reason, I believe it would be wise on your part to give me an extra incentive… an extra personal incentive. This would ensure that, on both a conscious and subconscious level, I will be making my best effort at all times."

  As her brows rose, I could practically hear the question pass through her mind: What could be more personal than serving your homeland? But she didn't shoot me down.

  "My proposal is simple," I dared continue. "If I succeed, allow me to visit my brother, Timothy Bates, who was transported to the coal mines eight years ago."

  Her nostrils flared slightly as she breathed in, her eyes moving fleetingly to Alastair's. She hadn't been expecting me to attempt to get something out of this deal above having my own life spared.

  She gave it a minute of thought before a smile cracked her porcelain face. "All right," she said. "If you succeed, and return with the egg without creating trouble for Matrus, then you shall visit your brother the very next week."

  It was as though a light switched on inside me. My heart swelled with joy and an anticipation I could hardly contain. When I'd taken a shot at setting my own terms, I hadn’t dared to hold much hope that the queen would bite. But my suspicion had been correct: both she and her Court were as desperate as me.

  Tim. He would be sixteen now. How would he have grown? How would he have changed? I felt jittery at the thought of seeing him again. It would be unreal. A dream. It still hadn't quite sunk in what I had just negotiated for myself.

  I bowed before the queen this time, and in spite of all the obstacles I knew were up ahead of me, I smiled more fully than I had in years.

  "I will succeed, Your Majesty."

  8

  I didn't have long till midnight. After the queen and the scientist took their leave, I sat cross-legged on the bed and opened the gray folder. Along with the photograph, it contained a three-page letter of recommendation signed by a Mr. Lee Bertrand. As I continued to read through the letter, I soon realized that Lee Bertrand was the man I was to meet on the other side of the river. The man I was to marry.

  He was recounting in small, neat handwriting how he and I had first met, three years ago during one of his visits to Matrus to inspect lab equipment. How, in spite of our distance, we had maintained a relationship all these years, him visiting my home whenever he frequented Matrus. He explained that I was an orphan who had received little education and had worked in a bakery for all of my adolescent life. I was "one hundred percent clean, with no history of disease or promiscuity". And, as one could note from the picture they’d received of me—what picture?—I was "more than pleasant to the eye". He would marry me posthaste and take full responsibility for me the moment I set foot on their side of the river. He ended with the assurance that I would make "an innocuous addition to the society of Patrus".

  My mouth had dried out by the time I had finished. I sat there, staring at the pages.

  I wasn't sure whether to feel insulted, intimidated, or relieved that Lee had thought all these details through for me, leaving me only to memorize them. I brewed in a mixture of all three for the next half-hour as I read the letter over several times to ensure I didn't miss anything. I wasn't used to this—having things done for me. Least of all by a man. I had never relied on a man before in my life, for anything. But if I wanted to stand a chance of seeing my brother again,
it looked like I was going to have to get used to it.

  Time passed quickly. I managed to force myself to sleep for an hour and a half, and then it was time for me to get ready.

  Alastair arrived at midnight precisely, carrying a small, yet completely empty suitcase. I frowned at him as he handed it to me.

  "You will be provided with everything you need once you reach Patrus. But it will look odd if you arrive carrying nothing at all."

  I slipped the folder inside the case to give it some use, and then the two of us departed from the palace. Alastair hadn't bothered to bring any weapon with him this time, at least not that I could see. He seemed to have gained confidence that I wasn't going to try anything. Of course I wasn't now. He'd be an idiot to think I might.

  He led me outside the royal compound's main gates, where a long white car with tinted windows was waiting for us. He opened the door to the backseat and held it for me as I slid inside, before slamming it shut and seating himself next to the driver. The car moved forward.

  I gazed through the tinted panels at the quiet city as we sped away toward the dock. I lost track of time, and soon, direction. My eyes glazed over as I attempted to mentally steel myself for what was to come. A risk-filled mission whose details were still a mystery to me, and marriage to a man I'd never even met. I'd never felt more unprepared.

  My stomach grew tighter as I lowered my window to let in the air. It was becoming colder, sharper, and moister. My eyes refocused on the streets of modest townhouses. We were almost at the water.

  Soon, we were driving through the steel gates that led directly to the road that lined the misty dockland. There was only one ferry operating at this time, its round lamps gleamed through the fog of the river.

  I climbed out of the car and Alastair led me to the narrow rope bridge connecting the jetty to the ferry. We stood stoic for a moment, holding each other's gaze.

  "How are you feeling?" he asked. He looked tired and anxious.

  I didn’t want to admit that I was afraid. My feelings were none of his business. I just nodded stiffly.

  "All right," he said, dropping his voice to a whisper. "Remember everything we've told you. We are depending on you, Ms. Bates. Don't forget that."

  I doubted I would.

  He gave me a twitch of a smile before walking away.

  I found it a bit disconcerting that there had not been any talk at all about how I would return to Matrus after the mission. That was a bridge they apparently weren't willing to cross until we came to it.

  As Alastair returned to the white vehicle and the driver pulled away, back toward the safety of the city, I crossed the rope bridge and boarded the boat.

  Other than the captain, who sat in the control cabin with her head buried in a newspaper, there was only one other person on board—an elderly woman wrapped in a woolen shawl near the back. I sat a few rows in front of her and gazed out of the window, my eyes scanning the dark, vaporous waters.

  If only my brother could have boarded one of these, I couldn't help but think. If only he could have made it to Patrus and been accepted there… It would have been relatively easy to arrange clandestine visits with him if he’d resided just across the river—compared to not knowing his whereabouts at all.

  I pulled my thoughts back to the present. Reality.

  Focus.

  "What's bringing you to Patrus?" The old lady behind me spoke up.

  I twisted reluctantly to face her. "I'm, uh, moving there."

  Her eyes bulged. "Are you really?"

  "Yup." Really.

  "Who's the man?" she asked.

  "A scientist."

  "What kind of scientist?" she asked, rising from her seat and moving to a row closer to me.

  I wished that she would have stayed where she was. I wanted to sit in silence, mentally prepare for my arrival, not be hit with a barrage of questions. But I supposed that this would be good practice for me. A test run, to see how well I had memorized, and how naturally I could spout off, all the lies.

  "I can't say, to be honest," I replied. "His work is high-level. He's not even allowed to tell me the details."

  "I see," she murmured.

  Then she fell quiet. Though I could practically hear her thoughts. Because the same thoughts ran through every Matrian's head whenever they came across a woman making the move to the other side.

  Poor thing.

  What a waste.

  She'll never last.

  She offered me a weak smile. "You must really love him."

  Yeah…

  I fixed my attention firmly out of the window to make it clear that I was done talking. When the ferry left the dock five minutes later, we were still the only two passengers. I watched the bank grow further and further away, until the mist became too dense for me to see it anymore. I stood up and walked to the opposite end of the boat. Being a warm night—or morning— it was unpleasantly stuffy inside. None of the windows could be opened, to prevent spray entering the boat. I had never touched the river water directly, but I had seen its effect on other people, and if you ingested too much, it could be fatal. I hoped my brother hadn't swallowed much when he fell into the river that night he'd been ripped from me.

  The ferry sped up, forging its way through the mist. Due to its thickness, when Patrus' bank finally manifested, it came with little warning. I witnessed Patrus' dockland in clarity for the first time. Warm orange lights glittered along the lengthy wooden jetties, illuminating a myriad of boats that looked quite different from those you'd find in Matrus. Most of them appeared to have been constructed primarily with leisure in mind rather than mere functionality, with shiny, attractive exteriors, spanning several floors and complete with open rooftops protected by transparent shields. There was also a bay reserved exclusively for competitive rowboats—like my cousin Cad's.

  Our ferry slotted into an empty bay and stopped. I let the elderly woman walk ahead of me, though she stopped to chat with the captain, leaving me to step out alone onto the empty jetty.

  I breathed in, scenting the atmosphere as a gust of wind caught my hair. It was breezier on this side of the river.

  I cast my eyes around, trying to find my bearings… and my host. Lee Bertrand. He was supposed to be waiting for me.

  Clutching my suitcase, I moved away from the vessel. There was a road beyond the docks, and behind that was a towering wall, just like we had in Matrus. No overwhelming difference between the lands so far.

  Lee had to be around here somewhere. I caught sight of shadows moving near the cargo ships, further along the shore. But I was apparently alone…

  Then I spotted movement to my right and a man wearing a dark brown coat appeared from behind a lamp post. He sported a tartan cap that shaded his face.

  I was hardly breathing as he closed the distance between us. The breeze carried his fragrance, sharp and citrusy, and stopping a couple of feet in front of me, he removed his cap, allowing the dock lights to illuminate his clean-shaven face.

  "Ms. Bates." His voice was deep and low.

  "Mr. Bertrand," I whispered, my grip tightening around the handle of my suitcase.

  His narrow lips formed a smile that reached his eyes—eyes that were more blue than gray.

  He looked younger in person and there was a slight boyishness to his features, which I found kind of comforting.

  I reached out to shake his hand, but he instead closed his fingers around mine and held it gently.

  "Let's go," he said beneath his breath. "We'll talk later."

  He remained holding my hand as he reached across me to remove my suitcase from my grasp and carry it. He pulled me away from the river, toward the road. We reached the sidewalk and stopped in front of a black motorcycle that leaned against a lamp post.

  He attached my suitcase to a holder at the back of it before lifting up the seat to reveal a hidden compartment which stored two helmets. He handed me one, which I proceeded to strap to my head while he did the same.

  He pushed the s
eat back down. "After you," he said, patting it.

  I straddled it, moving as far back along the seat as possible. Clutching the handles, he positioned himself in front of me. I felt embarrassed and uncomfortable to place my hands on his shoulders, but as he coaxed the engine to life, I had no choice. We rolled off the sidewalk, slipping onto the deserted road where we picked up speed. The chill of the morning amplified, my skin tingled with goosebumps.

  We drove close to the gray brick wall for about two miles before Lee eased our pace. An opening emerged: a pair of wide, gold-plated gates. As we passed through them and reached the world on the other side, my jaw slackened.

  Sprawled on either side of us were vast artificial lakes, exploding with fountains made to glimmer in the darkness by brilliant underwater lights. The tall spurts of water shot up to varying heights, swaying in the wind as if in a dance. Droplets sprayed the road and touched us.

  I had seen pictures of these lakes before, but the photographs did them little justice. The expanse of clear, shimmering water felt almost like a taunt to their neighbors—Matrus couldn't even conceive of such waste.

  But Patrus could afford it, just like they could afford other extravagances, thanks to their fertile mountain region. I glanced there now, toward Patrus' peaks. Their majestic outline loomed closer, and I felt an unexpected rush of anticipation to see them up close.

  As soon as the lakes and fountains ended, towering apartment blocks began. They spanned ten floors, and each block was separated by lush lawns and illuminated gardens. The buildings were beautiful to look at. Their smooth steel exteriors gelled with dark wooden panels that lined the balconies. Each block boasted a terrace garden, vines spilling over the rooftops like hair. Being situated on this prestigious entry road to Patrus, of course, only the affluent could afford to live here.

  The broad road led us past miles of this development until the blocks gave way to a different kind of architecture and we arrived in an expansive community of large two-story houses. These were clearly family homes—many of the front yards contained swings and other playground equipment, and they had garages large enough to fit three vehicles.