The Gender Game (7 page)

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.

T
ime 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 seat 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.

As Lee sped up, I held him tighter. This was the first time I'd been on a motorcycle. He could probably tell from the pressure of my fingertips against his shoulders.

We joined a highway and to the left of us, more suburbs slipped away. To our right was apparently the beginnings of Patrus City— a halo of orange light overhung a sea of densely-packed buildings. Buildings, tall and short, wide and narrow; shops, arenas, eateries, offices, houses.

Then Patrus' famed Crescent River came into view. It acted like a moat for the king's residence, a magnificent five-turreted stone palace built against the cliffside of a mountain. The river set the king's home aside from the rest of the city, on its own little island.

Lee forged onward and began a route that led us into the foothills of the mountains. We wound upward, higher and higher, and began to pass more residences, albeit at longer intervals. These houses were all very different and more extravagant than any I'd seen so far. Spanning four levels, they were stark white and triangular-shaped, their walls more glass than brick. Racing cars and powerful motorcycles filled the driveways.

Higher and higher we climbed, until we had gained a bird's eye view of the ground: the glittering city to the north, the eastern and southern suburbs… and Veil River, so far away now in the distance.

Finally, Lee pulled into the empty driveway of a triangular villa identical to all the others that lined this mountainside. The only distinguishing factor about his was a neatly trimmed row of flower bushes lining the ground floor.

As Lee stalled the motorcycle, he slid off and I stepped off after him, steadying my knees as the gravel crunched beneath my feet.

His crop of black hair was mussed from his helmet and draping down near his eyes. He slanted a glance at me, then gestured to the front door. "Shall we?"

We approached the entrance and barking erupted from behind the door, making me jump. As we stepped into a dark hallway, a large shaggy brown dog leapt up at me, front paws against my waist. I patted the dog's head awkwardly. I didn't have much experience with animals. The canine's tongue wagged, swiping at my wrists.