Free Fearsome Dreamer by Laure Eve Page B
Authors: Laure Eve
His Angle Tar alley, his escape.
The cobbles were wet and slimed against his hands. He didnât care.
They couldnât find him here. They couldnât follow.
Safe.
White put his back against the wall and curled into a ball, his whole body pounding.
He didnât have his bag.
He didnât have his bag
. They had taken it off him, and he had left it behind.
His heart sank.
He had nothing.
But at least he was safe.
He closed his eyes.
CHAPTER 7
ANGLE TAR
Frith
When Frith first saw the most fascinating person he had ever met, it was in an interrogation room. Frith tended to meet a lot of new people in these kinds of rooms. He enjoyed interrogation in the same way that he enjoyed the rest of his job â a lot of it was dull, but the interesting bits made up for it.
Occasionally, someone would end up here who presented a challenge for Frith, or a curiosity in some way. It had become rapidly apparent that the young man they were currently holding was both.
Frith had been sat outside the room for over an hour, watching him. He couldnât have been more than seventeen or eighteen, but held himself the way someone much older would. His skin was a beautiful, impossible kind of white underneath the grime, and his dark hair would have been long and striking if it were clean. At the moment it was pinned loosely back in a ragged, dirty plait. He was a lot less strange-looking than some Worlders Frith had met, but a Worlder he definitely was.
Frith walked into the room.
âGood evening,â he said.
The Worlder didnât stir.
âI understand that you were arrested for assaulting a guard. And that you demanded to be brought to a government building for interrogation.â
Silence.
âIâm told you can speak Angle Tarain quite well, even if you choose not to reply.â
Silence.
âWhen you were taken in this morning, you refused to give your name. Would you care to tell it to me?â
Not even a flicker. Frith folded his arms.
âYouâre foreign, of course. I am sure you would have known, before coming here, that skin augmentation doesnât exist in Angle Tar. But you chose to keep your skin colour. That means you didnât expect to stay here long.â
It was the merest movement, but Frith saw it.
âAh, Iâm wrong. Then perhaps you kept your skin because youâre proud of your differences. Stupidly proud, one might say. Because youâll keep them even if it means that youâre persecuted for them.â
The Worlder turned his head and looked at Frith.
âA victim of persecution, and you come to Angle Tar. The one place that will not tolerate difference.â
âThere are many places that will not tolerate difference,â said the Worlder. His voice was hard and cold, burred with disuse. He was obviously homeless, but hadnât been for long. The clothes looked too new and he was slim, but not on the wrong side of thin.
The accent was familiar. Frith tried to place it. Eastern World, for sure. Some New Europe nation, perhaps. Maybe even as far East as United Russian and Chinese Independents.
âYou wouldnât be the first to leave, you know,â Frith remarked. âYou wouldnât even be the twentieth. Plenty of others have come before. From Germany, from URCI, any number of World countries. All over the place.â
There. A twitch on URCI. Frith smiled inwardly.
He sat on the other chair.
âMay we talk frankly?â he said.
For a long moment, the Worlder was still. Then he nodded, once.
âSo. Iâm wondering what your reason is for coming to Angle Tar. You must understand why I need to know. Foreigners donât officially exist here. When they do, they are accepted for a reason, for a purpose. They can give us something that makes them valuable. What do you have that makes you valuable?â
âNothing,â said the Worlder.
âThatâs not quite true, is it?â said Frith.
The cobbles were wet and slimed against his hands. He didnât care.
They couldnât find him here. They couldnât follow.
Safe.
White put his back against the wall and curled into a ball, his whole body pounding.
He didnât have his bag.
He didnât have his bag
. They had taken it off him, and he had left it behind.
His heart sank.
He had nothing.
But at least he was safe.
He closed his eyes.
CHAPTER 7
ANGLE TAR
Frith
When Frith first saw the most fascinating person he had ever met, it was in an interrogation room. Frith tended to meet a lot of new people in these kinds of rooms. He enjoyed interrogation in the same way that he enjoyed the rest of his job â a lot of it was dull, but the interesting bits made up for it.
Occasionally, someone would end up here who presented a challenge for Frith, or a curiosity in some way. It had become rapidly apparent that the young man they were currently holding was both.
Frith had been sat outside the room for over an hour, watching him. He couldnât have been more than seventeen or eighteen, but held himself the way someone much older would. His skin was a beautiful, impossible kind of white underneath the grime, and his dark hair would have been long and striking if it were clean. At the moment it was pinned loosely back in a ragged, dirty plait. He was a lot less strange-looking than some Worlders Frith had met, but a Worlder he definitely was.
Frith walked into the room.
âGood evening,â he said.
The Worlder didnât stir.
âI understand that you were arrested for assaulting a guard. And that you demanded to be brought to a government building for interrogation.â
Silence.
âIâm told you can speak Angle Tarain quite well, even if you choose not to reply.â
Silence.
âWhen you were taken in this morning, you refused to give your name. Would you care to tell it to me?â
Not even a flicker. Frith folded his arms.
âYouâre foreign, of course. I am sure you would have known, before coming here, that skin augmentation doesnât exist in Angle Tar. But you chose to keep your skin colour. That means you didnât expect to stay here long.â
It was the merest movement, but Frith saw it.
âAh, Iâm wrong. Then perhaps you kept your skin because youâre proud of your differences. Stupidly proud, one might say. Because youâll keep them even if it means that youâre persecuted for them.â
The Worlder turned his head and looked at Frith.
âA victim of persecution, and you come to Angle Tar. The one place that will not tolerate difference.â
âThere are many places that will not tolerate difference,â said the Worlder. His voice was hard and cold, burred with disuse. He was obviously homeless, but hadnât been for long. The clothes looked too new and he was slim, but not on the wrong side of thin.
The accent was familiar. Frith tried to place it. Eastern World, for sure. Some New Europe nation, perhaps. Maybe even as far East as United Russian and Chinese Independents.
âYou wouldnât be the first to leave, you know,â Frith remarked. âYou wouldnât even be the twentieth. Plenty of others have come before. From Germany, from URCI, any number of World countries. All over the place.â
There. A twitch on URCI. Frith smiled inwardly.
He sat on the other chair.
âMay we talk frankly?â he said.
For a long moment, the Worlder was still. Then he nodded, once.
âSo. Iâm wondering what your reason is for coming to Angle Tar. You must understand why I need to know. Foreigners donât officially exist here. When they do, they are accepted for a reason, for a purpose. They can give us something that makes them valuable. What do you have that makes you valuable?â
âNothing,â said the Worlder.
âThatâs not quite true, is it?â said Frith.