AlifChapter 27 free porn video
"Well, hello!" said Wahata. "I'm glad you made it. And so promptly." She beckoned Ana and Binta sit in the chairs opposite her in the small rundown café at which their rendezvous had been arranged. "You must have left Blad very early this morning!"
Ana yawned. Yes, it had been, but after a restless night in which neither she nor Binta got any sleep at all. This sleeplessness was partly to do with their forebodings for the day ahead, but more to do with the exertions of the two lovers' reconciliation. They had got up extremely early, just as the first few rays of dawn sunshine streamed through the gaps between Blad's tall office blocks, and humped their heavy suitcases down the steps to the ground floor, dreading that they should disturb anyone. Then into the city streets, heading across town towards the nearest railway station. As suggested, they bought tickets to a destination beyond that of the small border town of Bab, and sat separately in the train as it pulled off. Kerhala had warned them that secret police were much more widespread in Alif than Ana might imagine. Any unusual activity could attract very unwelcome attention - a category into which their early morning departure easily fell. The two women didn't dare sit near each other until the train was well on its way and more people had embarked.
The journey took several hours, through barren plains bordered by mountains, past fields of peasants driving their donkeys and cattle, through small dusty towns and for nearly an hour along the length of a broad river on which boats were sailing in the bright light of the morning sun. The two girls were captivated by the vista, Binta especially. As she so often reminded Ana, not only had she never travelled such a long distance by train before, she had never seen any part of the world that was neither Jebel nor Blad.
"It's so beautiful!" she sighed. "And I'll probably never see these places ever again."
Bab was one of the least prepossessing railway stations at which they'd stopped. Nobody else got off the train when they did, dragging their heavy baggage down the great drop onto the platform and across the railway lines to the main platform. A guard blew a whistle and the diesel locomotive thundered off carrying its relative security away from them. The station was dusty and badly maintained. The metal signs were rusting and broken. A few goats were grazing by the side of the tracks, and stared warily at the two fugitives as they struggled out of the station and onto the dusty dirt track outside. This was certainly no tourist destination.
The Safari Café was probably the only café in the whole village, and scarcely a very busy one. Two old men sat outside smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee, and the waiter barely seemed to notice them as they struggled in with their luggage past the gas bottles and freezer cabinet by the doorway, but Ana knew for sure that they had come to the right place when they saw Wahata sitting inside in the shade by a wooden bench wearing culottes and a striped tee-shirt nursing a half empty glass of black coffee.
"This is a pretty godforsaken village I'm sure you'll agree," said Wahata when the waiter had served Binta and Ana with two welcome but unpleasant tasting glasses of coffee. "Not really what anyone would choose as their last sight of Alif, but it suits our purposes. It's less than ten miles from the Agdal-Alif border, and we can trust the villagers to be sympathetic. A few generations ago, Bab was a village in Agdal which along with the rest of the Safari district was conquered by Alif in one of those frequent wars which used to bedevil our two countries. People even now resent Alif occupation and the way they have been forced to drop their traditional customs for those of the invaders. I can talk to you quite freely here, and tell you all the things you need to know before I drop you off at the border. You're probably asking yourselves though why we've arranged for you to leave the country at this particular point."
"Well, yes," admitted Ana whose conversation with Binta had been about little else when they realised how very desolate the village of Bab was. "And it's still quite a long way from the border."
"There's a bus which comes to the border once a day. We shall time our arrival at the border to coincide with it to minimise suspicion. It would be too dangerous however for you to actually travel by it. It's regularly searched by police and, at the very least, questions would be asked as to why you should be going to Agdal. The questioning is rarely subtle and it would be very disconcerting for you - particularly for Binta who has only just come out of the Brothel. It's possible that the cost of them allowing you to continue on your way would be to provide sexual services for the police, and there's no guarantee that they would be true to their word. You would certainly be expected to pay quite a substantial sum of money as a bribe. That would be the least you could expect without an Agdal passport. Agdal citizens do not expect or get that kind of treatment, though it's almost routine for Alif nationals, particularly those without passports of any kind."
Wahata paused, and leaned over to rummage in a large handbag she had by her side. She pulled out two green plastic booklets which she passed over to Binta and Ana. "With these, however, you should be a lot more secure, although we still have the odd complaint from our own citizens of very uncivilised behaviour from your minor officials."
Ana looked at the booklet. It was her first sight of a passport, and it came as rather a surprise that such a very important document should look so ordinary. She was disconcerted to find that it was already creased and worn, with several visas already stamped inside, but there, on the opening page, was her photograph and the name Aghba Mustafubal printed underneath. Binta's passport was in a similar state and the name inside was Harama Asine. Ana flicked through the pages, feeling a little disappointed. "Why are they both in such a bad state?"
"Common sense, I'm afraid. Passports in pristine condition would attract attention. Someone would be bound to suspect that they were forgeries. It's not unknown, you see. We have deliberately distressed them and given them expiry dates which are really not far into the future. We have also faked an entry visa into the country, because that will be the first thing that the border guards will search for. Fortunately, Alif visas are not very sophisticated and extremely easy to forge. The names you've been given have been randomly selected but are more common in Agdal than they are in Alif. Your real names would also attract attention. We have to do everything possible to reduce the possibility of your being found out."
"We're very grateful," said Binta. "You've gone to a lot of trouble on our behalf."
"It's not entirely for you alone. It is in our interest and that of the future success of the Amnesty from Oppression programme that you are not discovered. Agdal's relations with Alif are always very fraught and President Marmeluke's government isn't at all averse to making high level complaints for every incidence of granting asylum to Alif nationals. The fewer such incidents known to your government the better for us. If they don't find out now or in the future, the better it is for everyone, including any future petitioners. That's one reason for moving so promptly on Binta's release. The longer you tarried the more likelihood that someone somewhere might suspect something. What we hope is that people in your government will believe that you two have just disappeared: not an unknown phenomenon for people like you who have little to gain from being known as convicted lesbians. Our people are already laying tracks which will suggest just such an action." Wahata turned to face Ana. "Have you phoned work yet to say that you aren't coming in today?"
Ana shook her head. "No. I haven't been near a telephone since we left Blad."
"Well, you'd better call in now!" Wahata pulled a portable telephone out of her handbag and extended its aerial. "What we want you to say is that you have contracted 'flu and that your doctor has advised that you take a week off work. We will send your office a forged doctor's note which should allay suspicion. This will hopefully buy you a little time."
"Why do you want to do that if we're going to be in Agdal by this evening?" wondered Binta.
"It's not for you we want to buy time, but for your friends and colleagues. They will be as mystified as anyone when you don't turn up for work again, and with the benefit of extra time it is likely that when it is known that you have absconded from work plenty of other alternative theories and hypotheses will have propagated which will muddy the waters a little bit and lessen the chances of the correct solution being arrived at. I can't emphasise too much how much risk your friends may already be in if the slightest suspicion reaches the appropriate authorities."
With her heart thumping painfully and a glaucous mass lodged in her throat, Ana carefully punched in the digits of her work telephone number. She started with surprise when the bleeps of the automatic dialling resolved themselves into a piercing whistle, but then she realised she'd not prefixed it with the dialling code for Blad. She reset the receiver, punched in the longer code and waited with trepidation as the phone at the other end rang and rang. It was not at all welcome to her when the voice that barked angrily down to her was unmistakably the Director's.
"Hello. Who is it?"
"It's me, Ana."
"You! What are you ringing in for? Why aren't you here, you bitch? Why didn't you ring in earlier? How do you expect the office to run without you?"
"I'm ill. I've got 'flu."
"'Flu, my foot, you slut! You should be here. Come in this minute."
"I've got a doctor's note. He says I've got to stay off work for at least a week..."
"A week? You lazy bitch! You better send that note in, m'dear. Bit of a coincidence, isn't it, you getting 'flu on the day after your dyke girlfriend leaves the Brothel. You're not with her, are you? Dyking about together?"
"I don't know where Binta is. I ... er ... I didn't even know she was due out."
"Lying dyke!" snorted the Director. "That means I'll have to hire a temp. Didn't give me much warning, did you bitch? You seemed all right yesterday."
"It came on very suddenly. I feel very ill."
"Huh! Well, I suppose you just haven't got the stamina, have you m'dear? I'll have to cancel the clients I arranged for you this week. They're going to be damned disappointed. Get well soon, and I won't have any sympathy for you if you're off one day longer than the doctor's note says. Stupid bitch dyke!"
With that there was a sudden click as the Director put his receiver down. Ana gently lowered the portable phone, and stared at Binta and Wahata with a face drained of all colour.
"Your former boss doesn't sound like a very pleasant man," commented Wahata mildly.
"He's really horrible!" Binta exclaimed. "He's always seducing the girls at the Brothel and treats them really badly. You wouldn't believe some of the obscene things he's had poor Ana submit to!"
"I've been in this business just long enough to believe anything, I'm afraid. Alif is not a country famous for the kindness that its men treat its women." Wahata stretched a hand over to grasp Ana's which was still gripping the phone and staring at it blankly. "You handled that very well, Ana. Your boss clearly suspects that there is a connection between your absence and Binta's release. We shall have to watch your flat carefully to see whether he sends anyone to investigate. It's likely that what he'll be expecting is that Binta and you will be there together, so not finding either of you there may rather shock him. As long as no connection is made between your disappearance and the Republic of Agdal then no unfortunate conclusions may be drawn." Wahata turned to face Binta. "Although you are free from the Brothel, are there any appointments which you are due to make with anyone? Perhaps on the Brothel's post-employment rehabilitation programme?"
Binta shook her head. "No. Not at all. It's just a way they have of trying to persuade people like me to continue working for the Brothel after we've been released. There are no jobs in Alif, except in places like the State Brothel, and I want nothing at all to do with it in future."
Wahata nodded. "Your uncooperative behaviour over the last few years will have made such reasoning totally plausible. So, the authorities presumably have no way of tracing you. That's all for the good. Unless something very untoward happens in the next few hours, you have both seen and heard the very last of the Brothel, and I dare say you must be delighted if that's the case."
Ana's phone call to the Director still shook her. She eased her grip on the phone and handed it back to Wahata who carefully dropped it into her handbag. "He's such a horrible man!"
Wahata nodded sympathetically. "Many men in Alif are like him. A country like yours seems to encourage male chauvinism. Not just in Brothels, of course. In every walk of life. In hotels, offices, factories, everywhere where women work. Women are very much second class citizens here, derided when they are successful, despised when they're not. It's not the worst country in the world in that respect, but it's clearly not the best. You'll be much happier in Agdal, I'm sure, where there are laws to protect women from the worst excesses of male behaviour, though I'd be lying if I said there weren't far too many instances of male harassment and chauvinism in Agdal too. Alif is not a country which seems likely to improve the lot of its women in the near future and while men like your Brothel Director remain in positions of power and influence it's unlikely to happen very soon at all."
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