Palau Palsu: Love For Sale

I scowled at her. "I wish she'd do it now! Ceci, I know this is -- mostly -- not your mess, but I'm still upset with you, almost as much as I am with your husband. You know how idealistic Lena is about her country, and how much she wanted to help make it a better place. How proud she was of you -- both of you -- for your part in that. Finding this out... No wonder she's been so unhappy. If you'd been trying to hurt her, you couldn't have done a better job."

Ceci hung her head penitently. "I can't argue with that. You're right. If you want to kick my butt the next time you see me I won't even put up a fight. Are you going to turn us in?"

I glared. "How, without turning in Lena, too? Or you, for that matter. The Minister ... I would like to kick his butt right now for pulling you two into his problems. Ceci, promise me that you'll keep him on the straight and narrow in the future, OK? And you'll push Lena out -- hard -- as soon as you safely can."

Ceci nodded sadly. "I'll do that. And Rick ... I'm sorry. Sorry that we got Lena mixed up in this. And sorry that you have to worry about her, now. I wanted to think I was better than this."

I nodded back. "We won't tell Lena I know. Just clean this mess up, alright?" I hesitated a moment, then went on. "And Ceci? I think you are better than this. I don't want you to get hurt, either. Try not to get yourself in any deeper."

Knowing the details didn't make me any happier. I remembered Lena telling me how aggressive Palau Palsu was in eliminating -- and punishing -- this sort of government corruption. There had been several massive scandals in the early post-war years; the current King's grandfather had given some nasty public examples while he worked to eliminate it from his government. She'd been proud at how hard they worked to prevent it from coming back; they might not execute people for it today, but those laws were still on the books and they maintained a strict no-tolerance policy. Anyone caught and convicted could be spending years -- decades! - in prison. Now Lena and Ceci were risking that to protect her father.

Somehow, I managed not to give myself away when we talked. I'm sure I looked as strained as Lena or Ceci now, but I could blame that on my 90+ hour work weeks. Rather than bring up her problems, I did my best to keep her spirits up and tried to be the rock that Lena needed. It seemed to work -- she always looked happier at the end of one of our calls. Ceci, too, whenever she joined in.

After a couple of weeks, Lena even started to sound cautiously optimistic, telling me that things were "going well". And -- on our private calls -- making lurid promises about what we'd be doing together in just a few more weeks.

Then it all collapsed. Literally.

When I woke up up that morning, Lena had left a message. Nothing unusual about that, but there was no text, just a web link. I clicked it.

I'd still been half-asleep, but the headline had my full attention: "Disaster in Palau Palsu -- Harbor Bridge collapse leaves dozens dead, missing!" Wasn't that the major project Lena's dad had been working on?

It was. I skimmed through the story as fast as I could. VIP tour -- collapse -- king's cousin and his party confirmed dead -- news crew missing -- 19 workers confirmed dead, 27 more missing -- cause under investigation.

I breathed a sigh of relief -- Lena wasn't on either list. Nor was her father. I should have already known that -- who else could have sent the link? - but I wasn't really coherent. And I still needed to be sure.

"Lena? Are you all right?"

"Rick. I was waiting for your call." She sounded drained. "Yes, I'm all right. For now."

I'd started to relax when I heard her voice, but I tensed again. "For now?"

Her tone was empty, nearly dead. "For now. Rick, that was the project I told you about, the one where Dad needed my help. The one where he was taking money." I heard a muffled sob. "Rick, they were substituting cheaper materials, and paying him to sign off on them! And I was helping to cover it up so he wouldn't get arrested! What if that's why it collapsed?" Now it was tinged with self-loathing.

I wondered that too. But -- "Lena, you don't know that. They'll be investigating this. Wait to see what they find before you blame yourself."

Now she just sounded drained, again. "You're right. I should wait for their report. But I'm scared. Even if it wasn't the cause, if they find what Dad was doing he could be going to jail for the rest of his life." She paused. I could barely hear the next sentence "Maybe me and mom, too."

I didn't get much done at work that day. I tried to concentrate, but my attention kept circling back to Lena. It was the middle of the night in Palau Palsu, so there weren't any news updates, but I still checked for it every hour or so. I sent a reassuring message to Lena before bed that night, even though I still hadn't heard anything new.

There still wasn't anything concrete several days later. Lena and I had sent flurries of messages back and forth every day, and she sounded a little less panicked when we talked, but the only substantial new thing was what I'd already expected -- a major investigation was underway. And her father's department, along with the contractors and the suppliers, was being put under the microscope.

Lena was pessimistic. "Rick, I think you'd better wait until the investigation is over before you visit. I'll probably be busy with it all the time you're supposed to be here, and I don't want to risk you getting involved."

"Risk me being sucked up in it? Lena, what about you? If I can help you in any way I'll be there."

She waved me off. "No. Please, Rick; I don't want to worry about you, too." She tried to smile. "And we can still beat this."

I was skeptical. "Lena, I think you should come forward. You and your mom. See if you can get a deal in exchange for your testimony. You weren't involved until after the fact, and you never got any direct benefit -- you were just trying to protect your dad."

"But if I do that, dad will be in prison for the rest of his life! And mom will still probably get a few years; she's known that something shady was going on for a long time."

"Lena, it's better than what either one of you will get without a deal! If they find any evidence, your dad's sunk no matter what you do. You and your mom don't have to be. Talk to a lawyer. Please."

I could see the rejection in her face. "Rick, if it was just me I'd do what you say. But mom and I have a plan."

"Lena! What are you going to do?"

She looked guilty. "I can't tell you. Just remember that I love you. And if this works I promise to quit this damned job and do my best to make up for everything I've put you through. If you still want me."

"Lena!" But she'd hung up. And she wasn't responding to messages or emails. Nor was Ceci, when I tried to reach her.

I was on autopilot for the next few days. I focused on work to avoid worrying about Lena, but every time I had a minute free I was -- vainly -- looking for new messages and checking the news. The weekend came and went before I heard anything more.

Her message notification woke me up. It was over an hour before our usual time, but Lena was back and wanted me to call. I scrambled to my computer.

"Lena! Are you all right?" She looked haunted. I could see the tracks of dried tears running down her face.

She shook her head. "Rick, please don't hate me. But I've done something really bad."

"Lena, I love you. You know that. What have you done?"

New tears were streaming down her face.

"Rick, they're going to charge us all. They have the evidence; our wonderful plan backfired so badly they have a lot more to charge us with, too. And you're going to hate me."

"Lena, that's horrible, but why am I going to hate you?"

Her face twisted. "Because I cheated on you. I had to. Dad was being blackmailed by one of his suppliers; the man had saved copies of everything they'd done together, going back years. He blames Dad for everything coming apart and threatened to turn Crown's witness and turn it all over to the investigation. Dad told him to go to hell."

Her voice was trembling as she went on. "So we went behind Dad's back. Rick, he told us that in exchange for the evidence he wanted us -- both of us -- as his whores for a week. And that if we didn't agree to what he demanded, Dad would die in prison. So we agreed."

The tears were flowing steadily. "He told us we'd be used like whores, and we'd better be good ones." She swallowed. "So we were. Mom and I did our best to please him, even when he shared us with his friends and recorded everything we did."

She was almost whispering as she added. "Sometimes we even came while we were doing it. Like good whores should."

Her voice turned bitter. "He kept the exact terms of our bargain. He gave us all the evidence. Then he laughed at us, because he kept duplicates, and never promised not to testify. He told us he knew he'd spend a few years in prison, but at least he got to have one last big party with Minister Tan's whores first. He kept his promise not to sell our videos, but he planned to send copies to the Minister and everyone we knew for their enjoyment."

That hit me hard. There was a flash of pain and anger when she told me 'I cheated', but as I processed what happened it turned to overwhelming fury. Not at Lena -- I was horrified at what they'd done, but I couldn't hate her or Ceci either. No matter how guilty they felt, they were both victims. But the blackmailer? I'd happily have fed him and all his friends into a wood chipper, toes first. I was murderously angry and it must have shown on my face.

Lena saw my expression harden. She didn't give me a chance to say anything; I could barely hear her whispered "I'm so sorry, Rick. Please don't hate me." before she cut the connection.

And -- once again -- she wasn't responding to my messages. I was frantic; I needed to comfort her, convince her I still loved her, help if there was any way I could ... but she wasn't answering her phone or opening anything I sent.

Chapter 5

I spend the next couple of weeks desperately attempting to reach her again, and obsessively trying to follow the story online. Lena wasn't responding at all -- when I checked, after the first few days of silence, she hadn't even opened my messages.

At least I had a little success with the news. Only the headlines generally make it out of Palau Palsu in English, while nearly all of their internal news is in their own dialect of Malay. Fortunately, it's close enough to Google Translate's Malaysian version that I could usually get some idea of what was going on, even if it wasn't clear.

From what I could make out, the situation was a zoo; charges were flying everywhere, dozens of officials were suspended pending investigation, and both the crown and the general populace were howling for blood. Besides Minister for Infrastructure Development Clayton Tan, three major contractors, five materials suppliers, and a host of inspectors and lower-level workers had already been indicted, with more confidently expected.

The only bright spot was that -- so far -- I hadn't seen Lena or Ceci's names. It wasn't much of a bright spot; the papers had mentioned several "key conspirators still under investigation." And calling it "the worst corruption, embezzlement, and official malfeasance scandal Palau Palsu has seen in the last 50 years". The prosecutors agreed -- from what I read, they intended to file every charge possible and go for the maximum sentence for each. The editorials all applauded this and thought it likely they'd get everything they asked for.

I was sick with worry, and I couldn't reach Lena. I felt helpless.

I got one last message from her a few days later -- again, while I was asleep.

"Rick. My deepest apologies. You were nothing but patient with me while I ignored everything you wanted. You sacrificed over a year of your life working to keep us together and warned me of how dangerously self-destructive my choices had become. Now that I've ruined everything we had together, I'm finally following your advice: Mom and I are at our lawyers' now, signing a plea agreement with the investigation. We'll surrender ourselves to the police as soon as it's in place. Please, if you can, forgive me for all pain and heartache I've given you. I know I've given up all right to say this, but -- with all my love. Lena"

I answered as soon as I saw it, but it remained unread. At least I knew why, this time: the next day's headlines had screamed "Minister Tan's wife and daughter in custody, will testify for the prosecution."

Mercifully, the trial started barely a month later. Shockingly fast by US standards, but an eternity of worry for me. Looking back, I don't remember anything that happened during that month but work. When I was working I could forget about the outside world, and focus on things that didn't hurt. So I worked, every waking minute I could, and blocked worry about Lena from my mind. I must have eaten and gone home occasionally, but I couldn't swear to either.

The trial? That, I couldn't ignore. But I couldn't follow the details of either the court proceedings or the charges; between the very different legal system and the less-than-perfect online translations, all I really understood was that Lena and Ceci's plea bargain must have been accepted because they were testifying for the prosecution. Ceci named Minister Tan's "special friends", the ones he liked working with, going back for years. Lena testified on all the evidence she'd hidden and all the damage control she'd done. And they both testified -- in private, apparently -- about their blackmailer's quid pro quo offer and their agreement.

In less than another month, it was all over: each of the primary figures was found guilty on all charges. Former Minister Clayton Tan was sentenced to 35 years at hard labor "at the Crown's sole disposition" (whatever that meant) and 25 strokes of the cane (suspended due to age). Most of his close associates (including, I was pleased to see, Lena and Ceci's blackmailer) got similar sentences, down to "at the Crown's sole disposition." None of them looked happy.

I'd swallowed when I saw what was facing Lena and Ceci. They were accessories to all of Minister Tan's charges, except for a direct count each of attempting to suborn a Crown witness. That was significant -- the suborning charge alone could add 5 years to their potential sentences. If I was counting correctly, they could each receive up to 25 years and 15 strokes.

Neither contested the charges; as they'd agreed, they pleaded guilty to all charges except suborning a witness, where they were allowed to plead guilty to "unregistered prostitution" instead. Rather than the maximum, they were sentenced to a mere 10 years each ... and 3 strokes. And they stood to apologize for their actions and thank the court for its lenience.

10 years. And what had she told me about "unregistered prostitution"? I bit my lip as I realized that Lena -- and Ceci too -- had just agreed to register. To become prostitutes, legally. And accept that as their work assignment for the duration of their sentence. Oh, my Lena!

I didn't know if I could do anything to help. She'd rejected every attempt at contact I'd made. But I couldn't not try. It was probably hopeless, but I called the Palau Palsu consulate and asked for an appointment with Consul Adam bin Osman.

I'd expected it to be a dead end. Yes, Adam had been friendly when we met, a year and a half past. He'd seemed to be sympathetic to the problems Lena and I were facing in trying to remain together, and he'd appeared to like both Lena and Ceci (and, I suspected, he'd found ex-Minister Tan as big a stuffed shirt as I had). Did he even remember me now? And if he did, would he be inclined to help? I wasn't sure. But the worst he could say would be "no", and he'd probably be courteous when he declined to help.

Rather to my surprise, he arranged an appointment that very evening and suggested that I plan to stay the night. "We will probably be talking quite late, Mr. Anderson. And it will be a stressful subject. I'd feel better if you were to stay here rather than drive home when you're both tired and possibly distraught."

For the first time in months, I warned my team that I likely wouldn't be in the next day, then swung by my apartment to grab my overnight bag. I rolled up at the Palau Palsu consulate a little before 8 PM.

Once again, the Consul was waiting by the front door.

He held out his hand. "I'm sorry to see you for this reason, Mr. Anderson." He sounded sincere, and he looked genuinely sorry for me.

I sighed and nodded. "Thank you, Mr. bin Osman. And you're still welcome to call me Rick."

He gave a slight smile and nodded back. "Then 'Adam', I think?"

Bin Osman -- Adam - led me into his office, but chose an armchair facing mine rather than his desk chair. "Rick, I'm quite aware of why you're here. And if you hadn't called today I would have tried to reach you instead."

I raised an eyebrow and waited. After a moment he gave another faint smile and continued.

"I have a package for you, from Miss Tan and Madam Wang. I was asked to deliver it no sooner than today."

I stiffened. "You have a package from Lena and Ceci? What is it? And why 'no sooner than today'?"

"Yes, I do. But might I get you a drink first? I think you may need it."

I probably did. I nodded.

He busied himself at the bar "Do you still like malt scotch? You might enjoy this."

I tried to distract myself "If you're a Muslim majority nation, why do you serve alcohol? And drink it, for that matter?" I really had wondered when Lena had told me about Bandar Palsu's bar scene.

Adam handed me a glass. "As I'm sure you know, we're a secular country. It's in our constitution, and most of us aren't terribly observant of that particular rule. It sometimes helps at times like this."

He waited patiently until I'd finished half my drink. He was right; it was quite good. And I felt a little more relaxed. I swallowed and put my glass down. "All right, Adam. I think I'm ready."

Adam sighed. "I was asked to wait until today to give you this package because your lady and her mother were sentenced yesterday morning, by the time in Palau Palsu. She asked that we wait before the first part of their sentence had been carried out before notifying you, and provide the proof if you care to see it. You may not wish to -- it's not pleasant, and I believe that you care for them both."

I blanched. "They've already been caned?"

Adam nodded sadly. "That's normally done the evening of the same day that the sentence was passed; early this morning, by the time here." He passed me a memory stick and pointed at a laptop sitting on his conference table before standing up. "I'll give you some privacy."

He was right. It wasn't pleasant. I'd read about judicial caning -- it's said to be incredibly painful, even the less-intense women's version used in Palau Palsu, carefully limited to avoid breaking the skin or leaving permanent marks. And it's done with the victim nude.

When I started the video it showed an empty room, with the only furniture a table with several sticks -- canes -- laying on it, and a sort of A-frame trestle against one wall.

The door opened, and several female guards appeared, leading in Lena and Ceci. They both appeared pale and frightened. I didn't blame them. The guards had Lena stand against the wall opposite the framework, while Ceci was led up to face it.

She shrugged off her robe, but to my relief, Ceci was facing away from the camera. She was nude, but all I could see was her back; if I hadn't seen her face earlier I could have mistaken her for Lena. In response to an order, she reluctantly leaned forward over the central "A" crossbar and let her hands be strapped down before her ankles were similarly strapped in place. To my surprise, the guards then added protective padding over her lower back and her thighs, leaving only her bare buttocks exposed to view.