The Swailing

Malkut: Married

The South, it seems, is particular about who comes in and out of their borders. Unlike Vegas, whose biggest industry is tourism, or The Rockies and The Alley, who just don't care, or Prospera, who will let anyone in if they are willing to pay, Malkut doesn't like outsiders. In the past, even as recently as 14 years ago, they welcomed people from other sovereigns, thinking that they were coming to the South to find Jesus. But often those outsiders brought new and worrisome ideas with them, more progressive thoughts about Christianity that made the leadership of Malkut uncomfortable. They felt that some of these views threatened to undermine the very fabric of their society, and so in the past decade, admission into Malkut has tightened up. They do let people in, but not without proper screening.

When we get to the border between Prospera and Malkut, Finn tells me that our best bet is to let him do the talking ... again. I'm almost embarrassed to admit how happy I am to relinquish the responsibility. It pains me to admit it but maybe those Prospera officers were right to focus on Finn.

Finn parks the car and gets out to speak to one of the Prospera border guards. I see him gesturing with his hands, kind of circling one next to his temple, and then nodding towards the car, where I wait. The guard looks over at the car, making eye contact with me. I smile, and he shakes his head sadly. Finn then reaches into his pocket and discreetly takes something out and slides it into the guard's hand. Another bribe, I suspect. The guard nods and walks away.

Finn comes back to the car, looking hopeful.

"Did you just tell him that I'm mentally unstable?"

"What?" His voice is guilty.

"I don't know much, Finn, but the pantomime for crazy is universal."

Finn smiles sheepishly. "It's a strategy. Just smile and look aloof. We're headed south to get you healed."

I roll my eyes as the guard knocks on the window. Finn lowers it and the guard tells him to pull into a holding area before glancing sadly again at me.

Finn pulls the car forward into a small shed and the guard does something to the front and back bumpers of the car.

Finn answers before I have to ask. "He's giving us new license plates – from Malkut. They're more likely to let us in if we look like we're returning."

I nod, amazed again at how money can fix all sorts of predicaments.

"We still have to get past the Malkut border patrol, but this will make it easier. Hopefully their regional computer system sucks as much as I think it does – if I just talk the talk, maybe they'll let us in."

"And if they don't?"

Finn sighs, shrugs. "Well, then I guess we head to Ecco."

"Ecco? Why?"

"It's, like, the medical epicenter of all the sovereigns, basically."

"Oh!" I feel a little spark of hope flare in my chest. "Then maybe we should go there instead?"

Finn shrugs. "I'm not sure how far we'll get. Medical information is hard to access in Ecco."

"Really?" This surprises me because people in Optima literally wear their medical information on their arms, and will gladly show anyone who asks.

He nods. "Let's try Malkut first. If it's a dead end, we'll go to Ecco."

The Prospera guard pounds the back of Finn's car lightly to let us know he's finished. Finn waves, and we pull back out and drive the short distance to the Malkut border station.