Paradise [Draft 1]

Chapter 8: Ruth

Chapter 8: Ruth (8378)

The rooms where they kept the slaves in Merrick College felt like a run-down old folk's home, or that's what Helen thought at least. Or maybe one of the tatty hostels she had ran in Australia. The walls were nicotine stained, the furniture was all broken and the bedrooms were never cleaned.

When not in her own room, she spent most of her time in the small communal room in the company of Melissa and Tina. Melissa smoked if she could get her hands on some cigarettes while Tina had picked up some knitting that had been left by one of the former occupants. While the other two women kept themselves busy, Helen talked.

'It's been over two weeks we've been kept here. They've not given us anything to do. I didn't mind it in the orange groves. At least we were out in the sun.'

They were in a basement area, the Slave Quarters, they were called. Helen didn't even have a window to look out of.

The only other woman in the Quarters was an old lady called Holly. She had arrived the night before and had seemed to know her way around.

'The Temple doesn't have overseers and doesn't employ slaves,' Holly informed her. 'This is just a holding area.'

'Holding for what though?'

'Until you are reassigned,' said Holly with a shrug. She was white skinned with dark grey hair, a skinny old thing in a worn-out cardigan. 'I was through here six months ago. We just await disposal. Church slaves, council slaves, we can wait for months. Just relax and enjoy the peace and quiet.'

'Await disposal? What sort of talk is that? My God! How quickly humanity got used to slavery again, don't you think? Just two years ago, people we thought of as friends and neighbours are now treating us like... I don't know, gardening equipment. Tools. Beasts of burden.'

Holly just looked down at her hands. Any spirit of defiance had long since left her and she did not care for Helen's tone.

'They don't all get reassigned,' remarked Melissa. 'Dat what I heard.'

'I heard that too,' agreed Helen, lowering her voice. 'This is where people in Evermarch sent their slaves that they don't want any more or have been too badly behaved. And then the church kills them! Is that true Holly?'

'Of course, it is. You three don't know what it was like here a year ago. The last time I was here, in these rooms, there were a lot of slaves. I was here a month and slaves came and went by the dozen. They could tell you where they had come from, but not where they were going. Last year Angster Stadium was used for executions, and they killed heretics, curfew-breakers, runaway slaves, Sunday-workers. All the time. I learned to keep my head down, just do my work and say nothing. The Stadium is closed now – God's mercy – I think they either ran out of people to kill, or everyone has learned how to survive in this world like I have.'

Melissa handed a packet of cigarettes to Holly who took one and lit it. She smoked the cigarette in a fussy, old-womanish way, holding it like a pen.

'Now if anyone is executed - they do it out of the way, somewhere in the College.'

Helen shuddered. 'No Red Cross, no phone calls. Apart from the witch burnings and the constant threat of being beaten to death in your sleep we were better off on the farm. No TV, just a few old books and magazines. There are more vermin down here than there were on the farm. If I get to speak to someone, I'm going to have a word with them. It's a disgrace this place. It's...'

Helen stopped talking, a clanging sound out in the corridor heralded the opening of the door at the top of the stairs. There was no clock in the room. 'It's not dinner time already, is it?'