Aurora - Blood Moon Tribute Pt. 05

Cross-legged on her mat, Ally looked up at the sound of a commotion to see a small knot of inmates push through the crowd. Three frightened girls- all quite new and still on the outer- stood huddled together looking around. Ally's hench-girls closed in, forming a glaring cordon around them. "Bayo?" Ally said, "I don't remember any appointments."

"They just came down from transit." Bayo said.

"We were in K-block." one of the newbies offered.

Ally looked at her, nonplussed. "Well good for you."

"There was a girl." another one said, visibly shaking.

Ally's eyes flew open. "Nooooooo!" she teased. "Hear that, gang? There was a girl."

Jeers and laughter rippled through the crowd.

"Please, Miss," the young woman pleaded, "you might want to hear this."

"Give 'em some room." Ally said, then held her hand out to Bayo. Hauled to her feet by the wiry young black girl, Ally brushed the seat of her home-made shorts. Reaching out, she tousled the hair of the small, shaking girl. "For god's sake, chill. I'm not gonna bite."

Face in her hands, the girl began to cry.

Ally looked around. "What did I say?"

A murmur went through the cell. What was biting this young thing?

"Oh for fucks sake..." Ally huffed then snapped her fingers. "Portia? They're Filipinas, right? Well ask em' why they're so frightened."

The Filipina, Portia, spoke quietly to the trio. She looked at Ally. "They heard what you did to Sonya."

"Oh that." Ally said dismissively. "So she slipped on the tiles and fell over. Big fekkin' deal."

"They also heard you tell the wardens what to do. And they're afraid of you."

Ally screwed her face up. "Are they on drugs? If I'm such a fuckin' badass why am I still here?" She lay a hand on Thip, the Thai girl's slender brown arm. "Thip, Honey? Can you rustle up some tea for these idiots?"

Thip took Yan's elbow and they turned to go, returning moments later with several brim-full mugs, some sachets of creamer, a hunk of bread and some sugar cane. It was protocol. When the boss had guests, better get a brew going.

Ally gestured the visitors down and waited while they settled, then sat cross-legged on her mat in front of them. Taking the proffered tea, they hugged the mugs to their chests, one girl still sobbing and sniffling. "Oh for fuck's sake." Ally huffed. "Pots? Tell these schoolgirls to get a bloody grip."

Portia dropped to a squat and put an arm around the crying girl's shoulders. Head down she spoke quietly for a moment, and after taking on board the reply she looked up. "She say sorry, Boss, she can't help it. She was working as a maid. The master of the house, she said, he rape her, and now she thinks she might be with child."

"Jesus Christ," Ally cursed, "that poor little bastard. Look. For god's sake tell her to please stop crying. It's not gonna help." She drew a circle in the air. "We might though, if she can just man-up. Tell her. She's not Robinson Crusoe."

Portia cocked her head. "Robinson..."

Ally heaved a sigh. "Crusoe. What I mean is, she's not the only one who's been fucked over."

Still quietly sobbing, the girl sat nodding while Portia relayed the message, then smeared her eyes with the back of a hand.

"Good." Ally said. "Now ask them... the ones who aren't blubbing, what's this all about?"

Tea clutched in one trembling hand, a lump of coarse bread in the other, a second girl looked up. "They had us in K-block." she whispered in passable English.

"For Christ's sake," Ally fumed, "I'm not a bat. Speak up!"

"There was a girl." she said, "in K-block."

"A girl." Ally said. "Got it."

"She came from the palace. She said she worked in a bird house."

Ally looked around, scanning the faces of her crew, some of whom had taken a knee, others who were squatting around her. "I'm sure that has to mean something. Anyone?"

"Bird House." Yan said. "Is apartments block at the Sea Palace. Special girls take there. For the king."

"You mean it's his harem?" Ally frowned. "Big fuckin' deal."

"No," Portia said, "for girls who are chosen to be..." The Filipinas talked among themselves in rapid-fire Tagalog. "For girls who are chosen as wives. They go there for training."

"And this is worth a cup of tea and sugar cane how?"

Another round of conversation.

"They met a girl." Portia said, "A Filipina. She worked at the bird house."

Ally looked at her squarely, waiting.

Portia sat through the next installation, then looked up wide-eyed. "She said the girl. They met in K-block. She was maid to an Australian. A little blonde girl."

Ally's jaw sagged.

"The girl was a pilot." Portia said and Ally surged to her feet. Bending, she grabbed the informant by the front of her shirt and dragged her up off the floor.

"What was her name? The blonde girl? Did she say?"

"She didn't say." Portia replied, trying to come between them.

"And she was Australian?" Ally demanded.

"Yes she was. And she had a friend. A Australian. Another pilot. A girl, who disappeared."

Ally's face contorted and big fat tears spilled onto her cheeks. "It's Rebekah." She said, "It has to be." She shook the girl. "What did she say? Is she okay? What have they done to her?"

"Please, Miss Ally," Portia protested, trying to wrest the girl from Ally's clutches. "She has told you everything she knows. The girl, the Filipina, said her Madam had lost her friend. Who was a pilot. She said she worried day and night about her. And when they heard about you, how you are Australian, they begged to come down and tell you themselves."

Ally stepped up and straightened the girl's crumpled shirt, then pulled her into a breast-mashing hug. "Sorry, Sweetheart, I'm sorry. It's just that... Portia. Tell this girl I worry day and night as well. About my friend. Can you ask her the name of the girl? The one who told them?"

After a brief, muttered conversation, Portia looked up. "Her name was Floraliza."

"Floraliza?"

4 heads nodded.

"Right," Ally said, smearing her tears, "Floraliza." She looked around at the faces of her crew, now busily warding off spectators. "Give these girls another cup of tea. And some food. And tell 'em if they want a shower, they can have some soap and shampoo. Pots?"

Portia started. "Yes boss?"

"Ask em' if they want a transfer. Tell 'em if they come down here we can keep an eye on 'em."

Portia gave a pilot-y thumbs up. "No worries, boss"

With no such thing as a time-piece to help, Ally backtracked through the day's temporal waypoints. Aisha came on duty around 6pm most evenings, with random days-off thrown into the mix. Meal times at the prison were never set- sometimes the prisoners had three meals a day, often two, now and then they went without any. It all depended on the male prisoners, because the females could only eat once the men had been fed. Riots, sit-ins, assaults and murders, or the mass-induction of new inmates, often meant a starve day or two. As did festival feasts, where the screws often joined the male inmates to celebrate.

"Yannie?" Ally said then brushed her fringe from her forehead, a sure sign she was spooling up. "I'm gonna talk to Aisha. You wanna come with?"

With the imposing figure of the willowy Chinese hooker stalking behind her, head and shoulders taller than most of the inmates, Ally weaved her way through the crowd to the bars of the cell. Elbows propped on a cross-bar, Ally whistled up the occupants of the neighbouring cell and the block fell quiet. Inflating her lungs, at the top of her voice, she bellowed, "SOMEONE CALL AISHA!"

A familiar figure appeared the bars next door. "Well look what the cat just sicked up."

Ally shot Penny a glance. "S'happenin, Gorgeous'?"

"Same old same old." Penny said, propping her forearms on the bars. "Hitting on poor old Aisha again?"

"You know it."

"What are you fishing for tonight?"

"Tix to the ballet. Wanna come?"

Penny gave her scalp a vigorous scratch. "I was sort of hoping Madam Ally's might be open. Any chance?"

"Never know your luck." Ally replied absent-mindedly, up on tiptoes, peering down the walkway.

"So what's got you all hot and bothered?"

"Some new chicks just turned up." Ally replied. "Said they talked to a girl who just met my copilot."

Penny's eyes went wide with surprise. "No way! Is she okay?"

"That's what I want to find out. AISHA! AISHA! For fuck's sake somebody call her."

Ally waited for what felt like hours then a message rippled back upstream. "Aisha said she can't come down." a neighbour announced. "It's not permit."

Ally brushed her fringe again, huffing and blustering. "Fucking bullshit! You tell that mealy mouthed little lock-rattler, I want to see her now. NOW!"

Away went the Chinese whispers while Ally waited, Yan standing impassively at her side, Ally plotting what to do with her insubordinate student. According to the telegraph, the prison had taken delivery of a pallet of fresh dates that would do very nicely in the women's wing. That should give Aisha something to do- misappropriating those. It was either that or withhold the next lesson- turbine engine theory- for a night or two. Then Aisha's voracious appetite for learning could do a little starving of its own.

Finally, after what felt like a small eternity, Ally saw a distant figure hit the bottom of the staircase and set off on the long, lonely walk the length of the block. Ally squinted hard at the apparition. It was Aisha, but not as she knew her, at least not the updated version. Shoulders stooped, she shuffled across the concrete, sandals scuffing, head hung low, a gloomy grey aura surrounding her. "Aisha!" Ally hailed, jumping up and down, a greeting that would normally be met by a beaming white smile. A hush fell over the block as Aisha approached and pulled up in front of Ally.

Ally put a hand to her mouth. "What the FUCK?" she cried, reaching for Aisha through the bars. Aisha's left eye was garish-purple and swollen almost shut. Her top lip was badly split and fat as a sausage, cheeks rouged with blood from frequent nosebleeds. "Oh my god!" Ally breathed, as Aisha held her ground, just out of range. "Aisha, Sweetheart! What happened?"

"I am sorry, Miss Ally, I can no longer speak to you."

Ally clenched her teeth. "Who did this, Aisha?" she demanded. "Tell me who did this. If it's someone in the wing they're dead-fucking meat!"

Aisha held out her hand. In it she held a thick wad of torn-up note paper, some of the scraps etched with fragment of diagrams.

"What's this?" Ally breathed, realising as she took the offering what it was.

"My mother found them." Aisha said, her good eye welling with tears.

"You mother did this?"

"My father did it. While my brothers held me."

A murmur went through the cell block and Ally looked like she was getting set to detonate. "Your family did this to you?" she breathed, shaking with rage.

"My mother told them to kill me. But someone complained, too much noise, so I just got off with a beating."

"Motherfucker!" Ally breathed. "They... you... what the fuck is wrong with these people? Aisha? Why did they beat you?"

Aisha nodded at the the torn-up notes. "My mother said this is the work of the devil."

"Aerodynamics?"

Aisha nodded.

"Aero-fucking dynamics? Have they ever been on an aeroplane?"

Aisha nodded again. "Once they flew to Dubai." she said almost inaudibly.

"Well they weren't too worried about the fuckin' devil then! The motherfucking hypocrites."

"It's not their fault, Miss Ally. They don't understand."

"Don't go making excuses, Aisha. It's totally fucked." Ally held her hand out, snapping her fingers. "Give me your phone! Let me talk to them!"

"NO!" Aisha barked then winced and touched her lip. "Miss Ally, I beg you, no. Just talking to you puts us in danger. Both of us. My mother wants you to hang."

Ally's jaw sagged. "She wants me to hang? Me? For teaching you fucking aerodynamics?"

Aisha shook her head, chin wobbling. "For witchcraft."

"For fucking witchcraft? Seriously?"

Aisha smeared a tear through the blood on her cheek. A trickle of bloodstained snot crept out of her nose, dangled briefly from her swollen lip, and was about to let go when she snatched it back with a snort. "She says you are a witch." Aisha quavered. "She was going to petition the king. To have you hanged. After the beating, I begged and I begged, 'mother, please, no, she is my friend'. Then her sister, my aunt, spoke up for me. She said you had cast a spell on me and I wasn't to blame. And hanging was too good for you anyway, too quick. Better to let you rot, she said. But if it ever happens again, if I ever speak to you, if they find out I won't be able to save you."

"A witch?" Ally demanded, looking around as the crowd pulled back.

"That's what they believe."

"What about you? Do you think I'm a witch?"

Aisha's shoulders shook as she poured out her anguish. "You are the most kindest, most clever, most amazing person I've ever met. I want to thank you, Miss Ally, for you believe in me. You make me feel worthful. But we must not talk to each other. Ever."

Yan draped a comforting arm over Ally's shoulders as Aisha shuffled away. She'd only gone a few steps when she suddenly stopped, and Ally's hopes soared against the odds. Aisha looked over her shoulder. "I will still turn the lights down," she said, almost inaudibly, "as you desire. Just have one of the other residents ask me."

Step by scuffing step, Aisha trudged back down the long, concrete walkway, then turned at the bottom of the stairs and disappeared. Giving her a few minutes' come-back time, just in case of a miracle, Ally turned around and set off for her corner, as the dumbstruck crowd parted in front of her.

The cell was unusually for the rest of the evening, no lessons at the bars with the other girls crowding around, pretending to follow along. On her mat with her knees drawn up, Ally was tossing up whether to cook up a brew, when she heard another rowdy commotion at the front of the cell. "Oh for fuck's sake!" she breathed, hoping the erstwhile miracle had just turned up. Instead, she heard the clang of the cell door opening, and raucous male voices shouting commands.

"Move your festering asses, you whores!" a screw bellowed, swinging his baton. "Face the wall! Move it! Get those smelly boxes lined up!"

Alarmed and visibly fearful, Yan and Portia slipped their hands under Ally's arms and hoisted her to her feet. "W... what are they saying?" she asked.

A nearby polyglot whispered, "They're from Transit."

"What do they want?"

"Shhh! Line up, quickly! Facing the wall."

Male guards rarely ventured into the women's wing, wary, as they were, of feminine guiles- hexes, evil eyes, curses and spells. And that smell, of course. "It's like a fucking fish factory down here." a head-kicker grimaced.

His buddy took a swing at an inmate who, still groggy from sleep, had not quite managed to find her feet. The heavy, leatherbound baton caught her square across the jaw and she hit the concrete sprawling, as several other girls rushed to her aid. They dragged her away, her mouth pouring blood, jaw broken and several teeth dislodged. "Should do them all a favour and turn the hose on them!" he grumbled.

His pal guffawed. "I know the hose you're talking about."

"Brother..." the slugger replied, "Not even with yours."

"BLAKE ALANA!" a voice boomed and a murmur rippled through the crowd. "SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU HARLOTS! WHERE'S BLAKE ALANA?"

Ally turned away from the wall, legs trembling, on the brink of peeing herself. Swiping her fringe, she raised her hand. "That's me."

The screw looked around and another girl translated.

Ally counted 5 of them, all dressed in black, with black Kevlar helmets, their polycarbonate face-shields raised. The same bully-boys who'd busted-up playtime with Sonya. 2 peeled away from the clutch and clomped over in their combat boots.

"What do you want with me?" Ally challenged, searching frantically for backup.

Her question was duly translated and the nearest guard shot back a reply.

"He said you're leaving." the interpreter quavered.

"Leaving? Where? The cell? The prison? How? Why? What for? Hey! What about my crew?"

Grinning like a cartoon shark, treating Ally to a heavy-handed pat-down, the goon listened to the running translation. It was always fun to see the fear in their faces, at that very moment, when the insufferable known turned into the unbearable unknown.

"He said, fuck your crew, you won't be needing them." the interpreter said.

"What about my stuff?"

Another bout of translation, the brilliance of the human mind in all its glory. "He said, you won't be needing it where you're going. And anyway, none of it's yours."

"Where am I going?"

The guard's face hardened, in no mood to reply.

"What about Penny?" Ally pleaded. "Can she come too?"

The screw looked at the translator and growled a reply.

"I'm sorry," the translator said, "I beg you, Miss Ally, he say 'no more questions'."

"HEY!" Ally yelled as two screws took her arms, "HEY! WHERE ARE YOU TAKING ME?"

The squad formed up, then dragged her struggling across the cell, the rear-guard keeping watch for interference. The screw to her left looked at his colleague on the right. "By the Herald's beard, feel those muscles! This little harlot's as strong as a colt."

"No wonder the boss has sent for her. I bet she's gonna be one wild ride."

"You know, he might just be biting more than he can swallow."

"That's just the way he likes it, remember? Anyway, she's the one who'll be doing all the swallowing. If I know the old man."

Stricken, bereft, her crew turned to watch Ally being muscled across the cell. "Bayo!" she panted, "I'm leaving you and Yannie in charge! Portia! You're in charge of the white bag from now, don't let it out of your sight! Look after the girls! Look after Penny!"

Bayo took a step and a guard raised his baton. "Ally?" she cried, arms outstretched, tears spilling onto her cheeks.

Ally made a grab for the bars. "Just make sure you look after each other!" she grated, as the screw to her left raised his baton. "Don't worry, I'll be back!"

"Steady on!" righty cautioned, before his pal could actually strike, "They told us not to break anything!"

A third screw levered the struggling female's fingers off the bar, one by one, and together the three of them dragged Ally bodily out of the cell. As the door slammed shut behind them, Ally caught a glimpse of Penny at the bars of the neighbouring cell. Eyes wide, face ashen, she watched the scrum pass by, Ally still battling her escort. "You promised." Penny said in a little voice. "You promised you'd never leave me behind."

"LET ME GO YOU FUCKERS!" Ally roared. "Penny. Sweetheart." she rasped, then stamped as hard as she could on the right jailer's foot.

Her hair went flying as she took an elbow to the temple. Another screw fumbled a can of capsicum spray from its pouch. "See this?" he growled, "Look at me! I'll only tell you once. I won't spray you, I'll spray the rest of them."

Hair in disarray, not understanding a word, Ally shot a look back over her shoulder. "I'll be back, Penny. Okay? I swear."

"You promised." Penny cried, not believing a word.

"Smoke me a kipper, girls." Ally yelled, "I'll be back for breakfast!"

Hands clutching the bars, Penny watched Ally disappear, the fierce little female still cursing and fighting. As the sound of the struggle finally echoed into silence, the English girl dropped to a squat, then put her face in her hands and fell to the floor.

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Watson stood at the sink in the kitchen, rinsing the last of the Royal Albert dishes, after another typical take-out Turkish feast. Beside him, Tanya plucked 2 mugs from the dish rack and set them down, then dropped English Breakfast tea bags into each one. The kettle had just boiled and she was busy filling the mugs when a presence materialised behind them.