Forager by Peter R. Stone Read Free Book Online

again and concluded that Michal was right. Nanako was only glancing at me. Moreover, on occasion it was more like a long stare, causing me no small amount of discomfort.
    I had seen very few girls in my life. Just my sisters and glimpses of those attending the Solidarity Festivals held several of times a year.
    Thanks to the male-dominant, oppressive society the Founders created when they established our town a hundred years ago, girls were not permitted to attend school. Rather, they stayed home to learn practical skills from their mothers such as needlework, food preparation, and house cleaning. For that reason, I didn't know how to respond to Nanako's attention, and I was the one who broke eye contact.
    Why was she looking at me anyway? Was it because I saved her life? Perhaps she thought I was an accomplished soldier? If that was the case, she would soon learn the truth – I was nothing but a school dropout and lowly forager.
    As Dryburgh Street merged into Macauley Road, I ran my fingers along the scars on the left side of my head. My hair covered them now, but when I got my next buzz-cut, they would be visible for the whole world to see.
    When we reached the town’s eastern gates, some rather astonished Custodians spoke at length with Sergeant King before giving the vehicles a once over. Satisfied, they opened the gates and let us through.
    King led us through streets lined with ominous row after row of grey ten-story blocks of flats; past the commercial district with its market stalls, green grocers, hardware and department stores and clothing shops. These were frequented by everyone except the North Enders.
    We drove past a massive billboard on the side of the road. Below the slogan ‘Play Your Role in Creating a Better Tomorrow’ was a picture depicting a group of contented men – factory workers, farmers, teachers and students. Beside them, equally contented women and girls were portrayed in the home, cooking, sewing, and cleaning.
    I wondered what our Japanese guests thought of the billboard, and of the others like it we drove past on our way through the town. That the Japanese sent a female translator along with Councillor Okada could indicate that their society is not as male-dominated as ours.
     
    After that we passed the greenhouse enclosed market gardens and finally reached the imposing walls of North End. This was where our world ended and the VIPs’ world began – a world that could have been mine had I chosen to live in it. However, as far as I was concerned, a well-to-do prison was still a prison.
    North End occupied the land north of what had once been the Flemington Racecourse. The austere, grey-concrete walled factories of the industrial sector had been built over the top of the racecourse itself.
    Our convoy stopped before North End's gates.  King got out to talk to the officer in charge and then sauntered over to our truck. "Hop out boys, we'll take it from here."
    "What do we do now?" I asked King as we clambered out of the truck, seething with anger at the impertinence of the stuck-up North Enders. They wouldn't even let us drive our own truck in there!
    King rewarded us with a forced smile. "You get the rest of the day off."
    "Our pay better not get docked because of this," I grumbled louder than I should have.
    The sergeant looked me in the eye and raised his eyebrows. "Is that right?"
    I knew I should have backed down, but I was sick and tired of kowtowing to the Custodians. "You've got our truck, Sir. We can't go back to work."
    "Tell you what, since you're so concerned about it, I'll give your boss a call later and fill him in."
    I did not know if he meant it or not, but I gave him the benefit of the doubt. "Thank you, Sergeant."
    "Right then. You lot are dismissed. But don't worry, I'll have your truck back to the yard by day's end, so it's work as usual tomorrow. Now, Jones, a word with you," King said.
    My teammates backed off, leaving me standing alone with King. I tried to meet his