Dreams Ltd Read online

  “With the bar codes up, I told you!” barked the bald man at me.

  I quickly turned the envelope upside-down and yes, there really were interlocking black and white lines on the other side. Driver scanned the code, pressed some button on an attached to the dashboard screen and nodded.

  “Get in.”

  “How long is the ride is going to take?” I asked trying to pull my bulky bag onto the steps.

  “Are you in a rush to get there or what? Can’t wait?” he laughed so loudly as if he heard some rude joke. “Get in, I said! Don’t hold the line!”

  Feeling griped by such a reaction of the driver and kicking myself for the stupid questions I began to nervously squeeze inside. It would have been a good idea to get into the line quicker – now almost all seats were taken. Ah, to hell with them… Passing those who already took their seats from both sides of the aisle, I went almost to the end of the cabin.

  Ah, there is one free seat left! Just for me.

  I angrily pulled my bag towards me trying to roll it over someone’s belongings that were standing in the middle of the aisle, snuck to my seat and rolled my eyes for a second.

  I’m so bloody lucky, aren’t I?

  My recent acquaintance found himself a space to the left of a free seat.

  Least of all I needed silly conversations during this trip.

  Suppressing my disappointment I manage to fit my bag between other bags next to my feet and plopped down on the seat. Maybe if I pretend to be asleep a dialog won’t even start? It’s a pity I won’t be able to see the scenery from the window with my eyes closed but do I really need to see it?

  Almost everyone from outside got on the bus. Some of them, who were behind me in the line, were now standing in the aisle trying to find a space free of luggage to put their feet. When the last passenger passed the driver the engine started. Bus, as heavy as a bloated whale, slowly turned around and with creaking springs crawled down the road up the hill.

  For a while I sat there with my eyes shut. None of the neighbours tried to engage into any conversations with me, passengers travelled in silence. From time to time the strained sneezing of the engine was heard as if due to the excessive load the bus was ready to give up and stop completely.

  If this happens, we’ll have to push it up the hill all together-in the mud.

  But to my surprise the bus was still crawling up the hill slowly and inexorably; after a few minutes I stopped listening to the engine.

  To my left I heard someone’s jacket’s make a swishing noise. My curiosity compelled me to open my eyes. The man leaned over to his bag and took out a big red apple - glossy and ripe. He bit a juicy chunk out of it and began to savour it with great pleasure. My stomach responded straight away with a joyful rumble as though it was me who was about to get a piece of that apple. My neighbour stopped chewing and looked at me. I immediately turned away and closed my eyes.

  What stopped me from having my breakfast? - “I don’t want it… I don’t want it”. So be hungry then.

  His jacket swished again and after a second I heard a cautious “Hey”.

  I turned my head towards the sound – the man was holding another apple in his hand – the first one was lying on his lap.

  “Take it.”

  I hesitantly looked at the apple.

  “It’s washed.” added the neighbour.

  I took the apple, said “thank you" and then sank my teeth into its sweet skin. The man turned away and continued looking out of the window. For some time we enjoyed our meals in silence. I glanced occasionally at the back of his head adorned with sand-coloured patchy hair. My militant antagonistic attitude that became apparent after the conversation with this man while we were waiting for a bus, cooled down slightly. The apple was sweet and shamelessly tasty.

  My neighbour finished with his fruit, pulled out a piece of paper out of the bag and placed his apple stub in there. He then looked at me. I added my apple stub to his.

  “Tasty, eh? I grew them myself.” he said proudly.

  “Tasty.”

  “I’m Ted.” the man suddenly introduced himself and his brown eyes under the bushy sandy-coloured eye brows glistened.

  “I’m Shereen.”

  I watched him as he skilfully stuffed the paper with apple stubs back into the bag.

  “What is this?”

  He followed my gaze back to his bag and fixed his eyes at the bunch of small colourful paper envelopes.

  “Oh, these! These are seeds. I love gardening. And I thought that maybe if I am given a small patch of land I could grow something there. I always loved to potter around in the soil… you know grow flowers, shrubs, berries, vegetables, of course.”

  “I see.” I replied feeling surprised by his hobby. But why did I think that a man like him wouldn’t like gardening? And it’s always possible to find a piece of land, I think.

  “I’d like to grow trees as well. But I’m not sure if they allow me…”

  “Why wouldn’t they?” I hardly had a clue about who “they” were though.

  “How would I know? I’ve never been to Tally before”.

  “Tally?”

  “Yes, the city we are going to is called Tally.”

  I nodded as if I knew that. Looks like he is going there for the first time too so he is not a good source of information for me then.

  “I heard the conditions there are not very good - a lot of work to do, but maybe if you get some spare time...”

  Our conversation made Ted more agile and lively, he obviously enjoyed talking to someone. Even his long wrinkled face transformed. But because I had nothing to say I was listening to him without interrupting. It’s no harm if he speaks for a while, is it? My silence didn’t seem to bother him at all - he took it for a hidden interest and I was hoping to get a few precious droplets of information about Tally while listening about the flowers and plants he grew in his life.

  Our ride continued like that for another forty minutes. The mountains were surrounding us all around now. People began to shift, mumble anxiously and stretch their necks out like geese in an attempt to see more. Is it the first time for everybody here? Ted went completely silent. The reason for this liveliness became evident when the big rusty gates jammed in between the mountains appeared in front of the bus. The sign on the gates read “Authorised Staff of Area 33 and Official Vehicles Only”. The driver leaned out of the window, exchanged a few words with a man in the uniform and then handed something over to him. The soldier took the item - either a paper or flat box – I couldn’t see it properly from where I was sitting. He nodded to a colleague who was sitting in a glass booth and then the gate slowly slid to one side.

  “So here we are.” a woman standing to my right said. She looked at me with sad eyes and sighed. “And when will we get to go home?”

  I couldn’t find what to say.

  We all sat in a spacious room which I in my mind I named “The border": worn out marble floor tiles, dull white walls, plastic chairs. People sat on them, nervously tugging on their clothes or bag handles. A white plastic table was located in the distance where the officer in a cap was admitting “visitors” - one at a time. I couldn’t hear what they were talking about but I could see how deftly the officer rips each envelope with a knife, gives a visitor a package and then lets them go. After passing “The border" table people were disappearing into a narrow corridor at the far end of the hall. I was going to find out where it was leading to after another five people that were sitting in front of me in the queue. From time to time other military workers were passing the line, looking at people with interest and then disappearing into various doors. The sound of their hard-soled shoes was echoing on the marble floor.

  I fidgeted on the chair impatiently – I had an urge to pee and discover if they would check what’s in our luggage. Not knowing what was inside of mine made me feel very nervous. But according to my observations nobody touched the bags, at least not until the end of narrow corridor and that somewhat
comforted me. Only a fortune teller, a prophet or Ted, who’d already passed that table, could tell me what was waiting for me at the end of the corridor. But neither of those was available at that moment.

  I was twisting and turning in my chair until the moment when my name was shouted out by the officer and I hurried to the table.

  “Good day. “ I greeted him cautiously and sat on the chair – a soft chair this time.

  “Good day, good day…” the officer laughed briefly into his bushy moustache and his reaction reminded me of the fat bus driver.

  What is so funny about my phrases?

  “Give me your envelope.”

  I handed the envelope over to him. I read the officer’s name on his badge – Carlos Brodsky. Wow, what an interesting name! Meanwhile Carlos ripped my envelope with a knife and took out a thin sheet of paper.

  I wish I could have read it before you.

  Brodsky quickly scanned the text with his eyes and looked at me with, what I thought, was respect.

  “Wow! Not bad, not bad! It wouldn’t have been possible to predict your talent judging by your appearance.”

  I barely stopped myself from raising my nose up. The Corporation has obviously given me a good recommendation! Well, at least nothing to be ashamed of. Great!

  “Well, so you are a hacker! Wow!” continued the officer and I nearly choked.

  A hacker? You must be kidding me!

  “This kind of activity is highly intelligent and it would be a shame not to appreciate that.”

  I couldn’t understand if Brodsky was mocking me or if he really had an admiration for computer geniuses.

  “But, unfortunately, there is only one way after playing games like that – straight to this place - in the best case scenario.” he concluded proudly looking at me in my frozen state.

  “Don’t be so worried” he tried to comfort me, taking my bewilderment for something else. “Anyone could make such a mistake playing games like that, but this place is nice and the people are friendly. Yes, the rules are strict, but I have to say they are fair.”

  “I didn’t play any games…” I said before I could think.

  What am I doing?! Who cares what abilities the Corporation has awarded me with – what matters is that they will allow me to enter the God damn territory. So I have to stop denying this! Otherwise I’ll ruin the whole operation trying to protect my honour”

  “Of course nobody wants to admit their faults.” Brodsky looked disappointed. “Nobody wants to say that they are guilty”.

  “Alright, alright! I’m guilty!” I changed the strategy before it was too late and tried to relax my body on the chair as if I really was the Queen of the Binary Dimension.

  Whether I admit my guilt or not nobody will let me out of here anyway. So why bother with the honour? But it felt like a frank confession could change the officer’s attitude which could possibly mean a better outcome in the long run. Who knows what Brodsky is responsible for?

  “There. Now we are talking! Good girl!” the man in a cap cheered up. “Why would you deny such a talent? I very much respect those who can do more than just send an email.”

  Yeap, me too.

  “Do you think if I had your talents I would be sitting here all day long?”

  You’d be sitting inside the Tally… I think.

  “And I would be getting much bigger money” Brodsky switched into a “dream” mode. “And unlike you, I’d be thinking ahead about how not to be caught.”

  Right… Don’t get carried away, you, smart arse.

  I made a sour face as if to show him “not everybody is as smart as you!” and sighed. He leaned towards me and tapped my hand with his.

  “That’s alright girl, you are still young. So don’t feel too bad, I’ll find good accommodation for you. There is a cute vacant room in a nice location. Not very close to the centre though but the air is much cleaner this way, don’t you think? I don’t meet many talented people like you are very often and your face is pretty…”

  I screwed up my face - thank God Brodsky didn’t seem to notice it.

  “There.” A few objects appeared on the table. His sausage finger pointed to the one on the left. “There is a key to an apartment in this envelope. The address is written here. Show it at the bus stop so someone can tell you which bus to take or show it to a taxi driver. Now then…” the officer pointed to the next item – a wide metal bracelet.

  “Put it on your wrist before leaving the building and never try to take it off until you gain one thousand points.”

  “What do you mean “one thousand points”?”

  “Please don’t interrupt me. This bracelet is your ID, your credit card and your life. All additional information you need is in this book. Now another thing is…” he knocked on the surface of a strange square object - a box with a screen and a “zero” showing on it - with the tip of his finger. “This is a static score counter. You have to keep it at home. Whenever we need to check how many points you’ve got – there is a small screen on your bracelet. Just in case - the bracelet is small – God forbid you break it.”

  I can’t say that I understood much of what he was talking about but I tried my hardest to absorb everything. The items that I was presented with were given to every person and obviously it was an important part of the local system which was starting to remind me more and more of a prison. I still had to learn what their purpose was and how to use each of these in the future. Meanwhile Brodsky was singing like a bird:

  “This book might be very useful. Don’t even think about throwing it to away.”

  I glanced briefly at the cover of the book - there was one word written proudly in big font and it read “The Constitution”. In a smaller font there was another line: “The Rules and Regulations of Tally”.

  “That is it, I think. The officer pondered for a second. “Oh, yes - you still don’t have any points credited to you, so here are your coupons. Each coupon is equal to one point. Use them to pay for a bus or taxi ride and get some food until you find a job.”

  Five pink paper coupons emerged in front of me on the table.

  “Thank you” I said politely – because it felt like it was necessary to say something.

  “You’re welcome! It’s not very often I see criminals like you - hackers. More often they are killers or rapists… That’s the big difference with you, I think.”

  Even though I was not guilty of anything at all I felt some kind of gratitude towards this officer.

  “Is it hard to live here?” I asked him at the moment when he was being in a nice and talkative mood.

  “It depends on the person. It’s easier for some and harder for others. Get your belongings and proceed to the corridor. I’ve already spent too much time on you and there is a long line still waiting. So, bye-bye.”

  “Bye.”

  I grabbed my things from the table, put them into the paper bag I was given and nodded politely to the officer with the moustache.

  “Good luck to you!” he said as I was on my way out. “Next! Gasher Green? Come here!”

  As I was walking down the narrow corridor I was thinking if Tally would become my “home” - even if it’s just for a short while. But something was telling me that it won’t happen. Too many strange things were in my bag and the “The Rules and Regulations book of Tally” seemed a bit too thick for my liking. If I’m lucky I’ll leave this place before I read the last page. In the case that I ever need to read it at all.

  After I had a chance to visit a small rundown toilet I went past two more men in uniforms and then headed towards the exit. Now the rain has stopped and the sun was beaming down from the sky. Suddenly I stopped recalling the officer’s words about putting the bracelet on my wrist before leaving the building; I put my paper bag on top of the luggage and begun to rummage through it trying to find this gratuitous accessory. At first the bracelet felt too lose but when I pressed both ends together it bleeped and locked in. Now it fits.

  The wonders of m
odern technology...

  After admiring my bracelet for a while - not that it looked that good but not too bad either - I twisted and turned my hand couple of times, grabbed my bag and continued on my way to the exit. To my joy there was nobody checking the luggage. I was dying to have a look myself but I knew it wasn’t a good idea to do this in the toilet so I decided to wait until I get to the apartment. When I passed the glass doors I found myself standing on a sun-drenched street of a real city. The building of “The border” was towering behind me and the road to the main part of the city unfolded before me. A few bright yellow cars with “Tazi” signs on them - the spelling of the word seemed a little strange but understandable - were chilling by the curb. I looked around trying to figure out if I should get a taxi (sorry a “Tazi”) right away or I should try and find a bus stop first? I could not see it from where I was standing. A feel of summer was all around me: green bushes and grass, buzzing bees and the birds were whirling around in carefree pirouettes.