Urbis

“You thought you were paying for a virgin,” Donald Shah, Minister for Security, was saying to Brandt, who was beginning to squirm in the seat opposite him. “And they don’t come cheap. I know. I had the pleasure of...” He stopped himself. “And did you get a virgin, Brandt?”

“No, sir. O’Rourke assured me she was, but he had no idea, in fact, if she was or not.”

“And that was the basis of your argument with him, which ended in your killing him.”

“I didn’t intend to kill him, sir.”

“So it’s manslaughter, not murder, is it?” Shah remarked frostily. “It’s a little academic, Brandt. Especially for O’Rourke. And especially with your record.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And now you’ve got this woman you bought from him incarcerated in your apartment. Apart from yourself, who knows she’s there? Who does she talk to?”

“Only two people. My driver, Jameson, and the nurse, Cath Vernon.”

“So they are the only people who know that there is, in the middle of the city, a woman from beyond the mountains, where no one is supposed to live?”

“I suppose there are the other three women.”

“Ah, yes. The other three women. Well, we’ll have to leave them out of the account for the time being, as we don’t have the resources to question every tart in every bordello in the city. The fact is, though, Brandt, that this little caper is at risk of blowing up in our faces. Someone has been blabbing about what’s over the hills. The salvaged ivory speaks for itself. Our patrols have picked up five individuals trying to get over there, and this is the middle of winter. When the warm weather comes, we’re likely to see a mass exodus. We’re already stretched to the limit trying to keep a lid on the Underground. Do you see my problem, Brandt?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Well, what do you propose as a solution?”

Brandt appeared flummoxed. “I... I don’t know, sir.”

“Well, I’ll tell you what I propose to do. I propose to keep those involved, as far as possible, in one spot.”

“Sir?”

Shah buffed his fingernails on his sleeve and inspected them. “I’m transferring all four of you - the girl, your driver, that nurse, and you - over here to sector one,” he announced. “We can find suitable employment for the nurse and your chauffeur. The only thing with the driver is that he’s a bit of a risk, running around at large. We’ll find him a localised delivery buggy to drive. Something like that. As for this Tana, well, tell me a bit about her. What’s she like?”

Brandt stared at him uneasily. “How do you mean, sir?”

Shah was becoming irritated. Was this man Brandt being deliberately obtuse in order to protect himself, or was he naturally thick?

“I mean,” he sighed loudly, “is she attractive, intelligent, presentable?”

“She’s certainly attractive, sir. As for being intelligent, I suppose she is, but we don’t talk much, sir. In fact, I’m not home all that much lately. As you say, we’re being kept busy, what with the Underground and one thing and another.”

Shah realised he was going to get nothing useful from Brandt. “All right,” he said. “I’ll have a talk to her, and we’ll see what we can do with her.” He paused. “As for you, well, I’m sure you’ve already realised that with your record, you are a good deal safer in Security than out of it. And I think you will be safest of all here in Sector One. Officer Brandt.”

Officer! Shah was demoting him to the rank of officer, just a rank and file Security man, after three years as Divisional Lieutenant. But he had no choice but to go along with it. “Yes, sir.”

“Pack your things,” Brandt ordered brusquely as he marched into the apartment. “And tidy yourself up.”

Tana stared blankly at him as he pulled cases from a cupboard and kicked two of them across the floor in her direction.

“What’s happening?” she asked.

“It seems we’re all going to live in Sector One,” Jameson volunteered. Brandt had given him the news on the way home.

Brandt came and stood over Tana, so he appeared to be threatening her with his paunch. “Mr. Donald Shah wants to meet you,” he said. “Do you know who he is?”

“Yes,” said Tana readily, noting the look of surprise on Brandt’s face. “He is mentioned frequently on the news programmes. He is the Security Minister. That means he is your chief. But why does he want to see me?”

Brandt shrugged his shoulders. “You are something out of the ordinary, I guess,” he half said to himself. “He wants to see what you’re like. So make yourself presentable, but be quick about it.”

With that, Brandt took a couple of small bags and stamped off to the bedroom to pack the few things that would fit into a locker in an officers’ dormitory. Shah had indicated that such would be Brandt’s living quarters until one of the cramped Security apartments became vacant.

When he had gone, Jameson approached Tana and explained to her in more detail exactly what had taken place.

“I would suggest,” he concluded, “that the nature of your future existence in Urbis hangs very largely on how you present yourself to Shah. He is known to be a ladies’ man, if not a philanderer. You may choose to take advantage of this fact.”

Tana cleared out her wardrobe, gathered an armful of clothes and went into the bathroom. While her bath water was running, she undressed and inspected herself in the mirror. Carrying her baby had not marred her figure to any great extent. Her breasts, though not as enlarged as during pregnancy, were full and round, and her waist was still slim. Her thighs were her chief disappointment. In the long months of inactivity while she had been imprisoned in the apartment, they had thickened quite significantly.

She thought about her daughter, but then dismissed such thoughts as being too painful. If she was going to be of any use to her child, she would have to concentrate on her own survival.

She immersed herself in the bath, and began to think about what Jameson had said. The boorishness of Brandt had soured forever any pleasure she might have experienced in lovemaking.

Cath had gradually introduced her to another way, and she had found real delight.

But the city had also taught her - via the television - that a woman may use her body for other things than pleasure, such as money and power. Jameson had suggested that she might consider something of the sort. She shuddered. It seemed pure anathema to her to use her body in so mercenary a fashion, but the alternative was... what? The life of a kitchen drudge? There was an opportunity within her grasp, an opportunity to rise from these depths and regain some control over her life. She determined that she would seize that opportunity, seize the moment!

She leapt out of the bath and pulled the plug with a satisfying ‘plonk!’

John Hanbury, Donald Shah’s right-hand man, entered his boss’s office to inform him that his expected visitors had arrived.

Shah was talking quietly to someone on the viewphone. “How long will it take you?” he demanded, his voice almost a whisper.

“Oh, a couple of minutes,” said the other partner in the conversation. Hanbury tried to position himself where he could casually glance at the screen, but without success.

“Good,” said Shah. “Go to it.” He terminated the call and turned to Hanbury. “My spies have been working overtime.”

Hanbury twitched an eyebrow.

Shah nodded towards the door leading to the outer office. “Send in the woman Tana, and have the others wait. Is the nurse, Vernon, there?”

“No,” said Hanbury. He left, returning to show Tana in, then shut the door firmly.

Tana sashayed into the office, her easy manner belying her inner tremulousness. She was wearing a pale pink gown that Brandt had bought for her: he had noted with bitterness that she had never worn it for him, and here she was wearing it for Shah. It had a plunging neckline combined with a high waist, serving to accentuate her bosom, while the skirt, made of layers of filmy material, billowed in the least breeze and contrived to swirl romantically behind her like the wake of a boat. She was liberally doused in a strong musky perfume, and had put on make-up. The make-up was inexpertly applied, and appeared excessive even to Brandt’s untrained eye.

Shah watched her every move as he gestured for her to take a seat.

“Tana, is it?” he said. “My name’s Donald, Donald Shah. I expect Brandt has told you who I am.”

“Yes,” said Tana quietly.

“You’re new to our city, I understand?”

“I’ve been here for close to a year,” Tana replied, “But I have seen very little of the city. Brandt has kept me prisoner while I bore his child. Except that it wasn’t his.”

“Oh?” Shah interlocked his fingers and rested his chisel-like chin on them. “Whose child was it?”

“My husband’s.”

“You’re married?”

Tana nodded.

“I see. I didn’t notice a ring on your finger.”

As if to confirm, Tana placed her hands on the desk in front of her and splayed her unadorned fingers. “Outward signs of marriage are not the custom among my people.”

Shah’s curiosity was tickled. “So how would a man of your people know if a woman were spoken for?”

“We live in isolated villages. Partners would normally grow up together, everyone knowing everyone else’s family history. But if a man came from another village, well, he would simply ask.”

“And your husband?” queried Shah. “Where is he?”

“I imagine,” said Tana, her head sunk, “that he is still in my village. As I was stolen away, he may have received some dispensation to take another wife.”

“I see,” said Shah. “And your child? It was a girl, wasn’t it? What happened to her?”

“Brandt ordered the nurse to get rid of her.”

“Did he mean for her to be killed?”

Tana took a deep sigh. Shah watched her breasts swell. “That is how I understood it,” said Tana. “But I never learned what happened to my baby.”

Her last words were muffled as she buried her face in her hands. Shah found himself looking at the top of her head, as jet black curtains of hair enveloped her face. He got up from his seat and walked around the desk until he was standing behind her, inhaling her heady scent. He put his hands on her bare arms and felt her shaking. Slowly she turned, raised her head and looked at him, her eyes reddened and her cheeks wet. He found himself looking into her eyes, then past them down the front of her dress.

“I’m sorry,” she sniffed.

He flourished a handkerchief. Tana wiped her eyes and blew her nose loudly, then handed it back to him. He walked back round the desk, and, out of her view, dropped it into the garbage chute.

“It hasn’t been easy for you, has it?” said Shah, in a rare display of sympathy. “Taken from your home to a strange place, made to submit to a man like Brandt, having him take your baby away.”

Tana shook her head.

“You must hate Brandt.”

She nodded.

There was a pause. At last, Shah said: “So you don’t know much about the city?”

“I know a bit from watching TV. I know there’ve been arguments in the Presidium just recently, because you’ve been campaigning for a bigger budget to fight the Underground, and the opposition, particularly that man Robertson, has been saying you must make better use of the money you have.”

The germ of an idea began to form in Shah’s mind. “Perhaps we can find you something better to do. Something more stimulating. You seem quite intelligent. It would be a shame if that intelligence were wasted.”

“What do you mean?” said Tana. “What’s going to happen to me?”

“There’s nothing to get alarmed about,” Shah reassured her. “It simply occurred to me that you might like to be a companion for me when I go out to social functions. I’m not married, you see, and it’s the custom here that when a man goes to a party or whatever he takes a woman with him. And because I’m who I am, I go to a lot of parties.”

She stood up and walked to the window, with its commanding view of the bridge, the bay and the city, with the sun declining westwards towards the mountains.

“I can make your life here much more pleasant than it has been until now.”

Tana turned to face him. “I’ve been Brandt’s woman, now I’m to be yours. Is that it?”

“There’s no comparison,” said Shah. “I assure you.”

“There’s no choice, either, I presume,” Tana said coldly.

Shah smiled broadly.

He put his arms around her and drew her close. He kissed her. Her lips remained tightly closed, her body stiff and resistant. He persisted, and at last she yielded.

He drew away and summoned Hanbury, who appeared in the doorway. “Hanbury,” said Shah, “take Tana and her bags to my quarters, please. She is to be accorded the privileges of a Minister’s consort.”

If Hanbury was surprised, he was careful not to show it.

“Jameson,” said Shah through the open door, “I’d like you to go back and get the Vernon woman. Brandt, step in here.”

Brandt stepped past Tana, giving her a strange, quizzical look. Tana ignored him and stepped into the outer office. Shah closed the door behind her.

Hanbury picked up her bags and set off with them, with Tana following behind.

“Come over to the window, Brandt,” said Shah.

Brandt obeyed. He looked out over the water. There was nothing out of the ordinary to be seen. “What is it?”

“Just wait a moment,” said Shah. “You will see.”

In a minute or so, the sleek limousine appeared below them, cruising steadily across the bridge as Jameson set out on his errand. When it was about half a kilometre out, it suddenly swerved violently, smashed through a safety barrier and plunged into the bay. It sank almost at once, with a flurry of dorsal fins homing in rapidly.

“Such a tragedy,” said Shah. “But I have just been informed that Jameson was with the Underground. You wouldn’t have known anything about that, now?”