LONTAR issue #1 (5 page)

The first sorting by ability level happened in the first year of school, with exams that tested intellectual, artistic and athletic capabilities. Children who scored well were funnelled straight into the university track. Children who did not excel had another chance to prove their worth at the second screening, at age seven, but if you failed that, you would never be accepted into the elect.

"You should go overseas," said Xinya. "You can."

Only on this upside-down day would this have seemed an ordinary thing to say. Feisal had always accepted that the New Federation was the best country to live in. You could leave your wallet on the table in a restaurant and come back from the bathroom to find it still there. Your education was paid for, provided you were good enough to benefit from it. Free universal healthcare, low unemployment, practically no crime, diversity without conflict—what more could you ask for? No one could accuse the country of the various ills that had hag-ridden the old Malaysia. They had made use of the painful lessons taught by the Crisis.

He said only, "I have a lot to stay for." He hadn't meant to be looking at Xinya when he said this, but he found himself doing it anyway.

Feisal was the one who leaned in—the first thing he'd ever done in his life that took courage.

A sharp voice said, "Excuse me, sir!"

In a minute, the voice would ask for their marriage certificate. Xinya stayed where she was, her face upturned and the lashes lying dark on her cheeks, but Feisal stepped back. Already his instinct for self-sacrifice had begun to emerge.

*

The officials didn't waste much time on Feisal once they'd established that he was neither married to Xinya nor a
bangsawan
. They took Xinya aside for an hour and Feisal sat in the waiting room, twisting his hands. At the reception desk an official ignored him with the stony inhumanity of the law.

He wished they'd let him attend the interview. He might have been able to ameliorate the worst, persuade Xinya to hide the flame of rebellion that burned under her scarf. She'd been furious when the officials had asked them to come with them: "You don't have any other work to do, ah? The burglars taking holiday, is it?"

She might mention that she was an Izzahite. That wasn't proscribed, but who knew what affronted authority might choose to take offence at. She might explain about choosing biology over medicine. Such signs of heterodoxy were best saved for the ears of friends.

Feisal was less naïve than Muna knew. He understood more than even he had known himself, and this unacknowledged understanding of the world he lived in made that hour a terrible one for him. When Xinya came out, nothing was to be gleaned from her expression. The officials were courteous enough. She might have been saying goodbye to her hairdresser.

The officials told Feisal he was free to go. They would let him off this once because it was a first offence, and it would be a shame to tarnish an unblemished record.

"Remember, you are your mother's only son," said the official who had caught them. He patted Feisal on the shoulder awkwardly, as if he was sorry to have to make these coded threats.

"I'll take a bus to go back," said Feisal, having already decided that whatever bus he took, it would be different from Xinya's bus.

But Xinya was taking a cab. "They're free," she said, avoiding his eyes.

Of course. For the elect.

When Feisal was at a door, she said: "See you at work," not looking up. In this way she passed from his life.

*

"Exciting times," said Joshua the next day. He leaned over the walls of Feisal's cubicle and picked up a stick of his
keropok lekor
. Joshua was one of many obstacles on the long hard path to achieving affability.

"Oi," said Feisal automatically. "What's so exciting?"

"You didn't hear?" said Joshua. "See lah, when you skip out on office breakfasts, you miss all the news."

"Xinya's left, is it?"

Joshua was disappointed. "Hai, if you knew already, say lah! You know why she went?"

Feisal shrugged. He was acutely conscious of the skin on his face. It was important that it should not wrinkle, that his face should not be betrayed into any kind of expression.

"Official line is she's been posted to Region because of urgent business need," said Joshua. He lowered his voice. "But they all were saying actually it's the authorities request, one. Xinya was caught
in flagrante
with a lower-station person."

"What was she doing?"

"
Flagranting
, lah," said Joshua. "
Bangsawan
like her, must be she really overstepped the line. They only send elect overseas as a last resort."

Something was wrong with Feisal's eyes. He couldn't make out the images on the screen before him. He moved a style element a few pixels to the left to make it look like he wasn't really listening.

"Can't believe Xinya risk it like that," said Joshua. "She seem so sensible. This kind of thing can really mess up your life. No more housing grant, no pension, children not included in the school quota. Private sector also won't touch you if the admin blacklist you already. Like that, it's like you never pass the exam in the first place."

"We are OK, what," said Feisal. "Who needs to be elect?"

"We're OK because we're used to a shitty life," said Joshua. "Once you're elect you don't want to stop, one. At least Xinya still has a chance. If they're sending her overseas instead of downgrading her, means they're going for reeducation. If she's smart, she'll hang on to her special rights."

"She strike me as being smart."

"More than that. Xinya's ambitious," said Joshua. "She told Shazrina she didn't plan to spend more than one year in this company. Too small for her. Oh, you won't see her giving up her future for some random
rakyat
. Pretend only she doesn't want to excel. Underneath she's like all the
bangsawan
."

No
, thought Feisal. There was something restless about Xinya, a striving quality, but she dreamed of different things. Not the upward climb, but the meandering path, curving into the unknown distance.

"Is it?" he said. "She seem laid back. But I don't know her well."

"If you survive the screenings to get to uni, you're not going to be laid back, one," said Joshua. "She's very clever, she won't show people she's ambitious. But at end of the day these people all want the administration job, the car, the housing grant. I'm just surprised she was so careless to let herself get caught. You never know people, ah."

"Yeah," said Feisal. "Who knew."

*

The details of what had happened to Xinya filtered down to Feisal over the next few weeks. There was no mention of his name, or indeed much curiosity about who the
rakyat
was who'd caused her fall. To Feisal's surprise it was assumed that anyone of a lower station would leap at the chance of a liaison with a
bangsawan
. The scandal was that Xinya had been willing to lower herself in that way.

It appeared that the state Family Planning Unit had slipped a word to management: the company must be alert to prevent undesirable fraternising among its staff. Foreign businesses could not expect to succeed in the New Federation without a firm commitment to local values.

Worried about its tax rebates and state subsidies, management had acted swiftly. Xinya had been called into the big boss's office and given the kindest of lectures. ("She finished uni at sixteen, eh," said Joshua. "Three National Merit Prizes at secondary school. No wonder they didn't downgrade her.")

Did Xinya not know that it was essential for the New Federation, management explained, still recovering as it was from the devastation of the Crisis, to preserve its only remaining natural resource—human intelligence? The best way for such resource to be cultivated was for the elect of a country only to maintain intimacy—and produce its results, children—with one another. This had been established by many a study. Intimacy between stations could only lead to cultural and intellectual decline, ultimately disastrous for the nation.

Curious tales circulated about that interview. Xinya was accused of saying the most outlandish things.

"You know what she told the boss," said Joshua. "Shermayne sits just outside the office and she heard. The boss was explaining all about the policy—you'd think a
bangsawan
would know—and Xinya said, you won't believe this, she said: 'Does the policy leave space for homosexuals?'"

"What did the boss say?" said Feisal stonily, though he was shocked.

"Shermayne said silent only," said Joshua. "I wouldn't know what to say also. Imagine, she can talk like that at work! I wouldn't have expect it of her, lorh. She seem so affable."

"Maybe she thinks—" Feisal was determined he should not stumble over the word—"homosexuals deserve affability also."

"I don't have anything against that kind of people, so long as they pull their weight," said Joshua. "Affability is one thing. But if we're all homosexual, where would the country be?"

"Same place, what. Country doesn't move around," said Feisal. He was acquiring a reputation for being rather slow.

He found himself checking Xinya's network profile compulsively. She was using the network heavily to keep up with friends and family, and every evening there were status updates and photographs for Feisal to torture himself with. Xinya smiling against a backdrop of golden city lights reflected on dark water; Xinya with her arms slung companionably around new, attractive colleagues. Xinya was having delicious French food—thanks for dinner, Charles! Xinya felt like going to the cinema; could anyone recommend a movie? Xinya was looking forward to the weekend—time to party!

Feisal grew so quiet that his mother started dosing him with chicken essence. Muna asked for his opinion on things, in the hope that this would cheer him up. Something had to change.

*

Muna intercepted the UPK's response despite Feisal's vigilance. When he came downstairs to get the post, she was sitting at the dining table with the parcel before her.

Feisal knew he looked guilty; he hoped the irritation didn't show. The post had always arrived at 4:15 on the dot before. If you couldn't trust the post, what could you trust?

"Are you in trouble?" said Muna. Her eyes were fixed on the state seal on the envelope. "Is that why you're so quiet lately?"

"Don't worry. It's not trouble." The size of the parcel told Feisal what the answer was. If it had been a refusal they would have told him in a letter.

"Kak, you open it, lah," he said. "It's time you knew anyway. I didn't tell you before because I wasn't sure whether can get or not."

Muna tore open the envelope with shaking hands. A sheaf of application forms and brochures fell out, along with a thick booklet.

"The lease," said Feisal, picking it up. "So fast! I thought they only allocate the flat after you're married."

"You applied for betrothal?" said Muna.

Feisal was skimming the lease, his eyes widening. "This is at Sri Mutiara. Rent only five hundred a month! I didn't know betrothal was so
laku
."

"Because you cannot choose who you want," said Muna, falling into explanation mode. "Whoever they give you, you must marry. You don't even get to see picture first. Why—why—"

"You said, what," said Feisal. "I'm about the right age. I might as well settle down."

"But applying to the administration?" said Muna. "Why didn't you just ask Mak and me? We could have found a girl for you. Or if you just kept going to the affability events, at least you can choose somebody you like. I know you didn't enjoy the first one, but—"

"It wouldn't have worked, lah," said Feisal. "I don't think I'm the kind of person who suits those events." He sat down. "I'm not sure I'm the kind of person who suits anything."

It was a relief to say it, as it had been a relief when he'd decided to apply for an intimate partnership. He'd known Muna wouldn't be pleased, and who knew what their mother would say when she found out. Submitting to the state-run betrothal process was not improper, but it was archaic—a relic of the bad old days just after the Crisis.

It used to be that all marriages were arranged by means of the blind matching algorithm run by the state. If, the argument went, people were made to intermingle with their neighbours—if the mixture in the make-up of the population were reflected in nuclear families—the old violence would not be repeated. You could not accuse another ethnic community of profiting to the disadvantage of yours if you were married to a member of that community and your children were members of both.

Economic stability and integration rendered the policy superfluous and it was eventually dropped, but the system was still associated in people's minds with times of hardship. Feisal's grandparents had been betrothed by the state. His mother would not be happy to hear that he'd decided to return to the practice.

"I don't even understand what are you talking about," said Muna, steely with despair. "Is this because of that girl, your colleague? I should have known you'll take it to heart. You're too sensitive."

"This has nothing to do with her," said Feisal.

This was only the truth, but not all the truth. If he'd wanted to frighten and worry his sister even more, he could have told her about his meeting with his manager the week before. Feisal had sat silent, his pulse beating high in his throat, as the embarrassed woman had explained how it had come to their attention that Feisal's personal life was not in keeping with the company's values.