02-17-2020, 09:26 PM
Irena Wilson was at work when she saw the message. She enjoyed her job in the Eirian National Library, she found it interesting and relaxing, and the coffee in the break room was excellent. On weekends, she would go on hikes and trips to the forest with her husband Cole, a tall, sweet man who really deserved better than her. She did love him, but perhaps not as much as she should. She found Eirians a little too naive for her taste.
She was within the subset of Auroras who received their messages through coded targeted ads on her social media profiles, and she read the message as she was browsing one of these sites during her lunch break. It had been lying in wait for her since the middle of the night, but she hadn’t bothered to check in the morning. Upon reading it, she sighed and put down her cup of coffee.
“Is something the matter?” asked one of her colleagues.
“I just remembered I need to make a dentist appointment,” replied Irena. “I’ve been putting it off for far too long and I’m going to need to go soon. I think I need a filling.”
“Ouch,” said the colleague, wincing. “That doesn’t sound fun.”
“I’m just going to go outside and call the dentist surgery,” said Irena, standing and walking outside. Once she was away from the building, and certain nobody was in earshot, she took out her phone and called her husband. It went through to voicemail.
“Cole, I’m going away for a few days. Work trip, I need to fill in for one of my colleagues whose daughter is sick. Can you pack some of my things and get my passport ready? I’ll need to leave quickly once I get home. Thanks! I love you.”
She hung up the phone, and pocketed it, without feeling any guilt. She went back inside, finished her lunch and completed her shift, smiling and making small talk with her colleagues, doing the best job she could as always. At no point did she waver from her daily routine, nor did she attempt to remove any documents from the facility. For someone in her position, she was rather calm.
That evening, she arrived home to find her suitcase packed with the essentials she took on overnight trips, her passport sitting on top along with a note from her husband: Sorry I missed your call, enjoy your trip xx. He worked in the evenings, and he had already gone. She sighed sadly, she would have liked to say goodbye to him. She checked the contents of her case, went into her room and threw more things into a larger case, and then took them both outside to the car.
She drove north-east, towards the port where she could get a ferry to Xiomera. She turned the radio on as she drove, listening to some calming, classical music. It was important, she knew, that she monitored her mood and remained calm, especially at times like these. She was disappointed, in a way, that it was ending like this, but at least in the future she’d be able to relax more easily, live without the fear.
At the port, she bought a ticket for her and the car on the overnight ferry, joining the queue waiting. This was when she was nervous. They wouldn’t have recalled her, with an impersonal message that implied it was being sent to multiple agents, if there wasn’t some kind of risk. Once she’d had her passport checked and she was on the ferry, she felt a little better. She knew there were flights from Xiomera to Kerlile, and she would be able to get one easily the next day. She’d have to leave the car in Xiomera.
A few hours later, the ferry departed Eiria, and Irena watched from a window as the coast grew farther and farther away, and she doubted, with only a little sadness, that she would ever return.
*
Anaïs Lasserre received her copy of the message when she was in bed on Sunday night. She’d been checking her emails as she did habitually before going to sleep, but upon reading what seemed to be a spam message, she sat up, wide awake. The covers fell onto the floor as she’d jerked upright so quickly. Her heart was beating fast and she glanced around her expensive apartment as if expecting to see someone watching her. Eventually, she calmed slightly, and then sat back against the headboard and groaned.
It was a risk for those in her original occupation that on occasion, one grew to enjoy the life one had made, regardless of how false it was. She was one of those people. She loved her false life rather more than her real one, and didn’t want it to end. Still, she couldn’t take the risk of being abandoned alone to her fate, when she knew that there were leaks and suspicions everywhere. She was in too high-profile a position to believe that she was entirely safe. Still, she wondered if there wasn’t a way to compromise.
The first time she’d starred in a film, she’d realised how much she could get used to this life. It had been exciting, tantalising, and she’d allowed herself to become immersed in her cover in a way she knew was deeper than expected. When she founded Élan Studios, her mind had been on her mission, of course, but also on the projects she would have the chance to pursue and the opportunities this would create not just for Kerlile, but for herself.
She had the inkling of an idea, which probably wouldn’t work, but was worth a shot. She would return to Kerlile, and speak with them to propose her idea. They might agree, it would certainly save them some money, and she knew how badly the Kerlian economy was doing. She picked up her phone and dialled her PA, Michelle.
“Bonsoir,” she greeted her. “I am sorry to bother you so late, but could you book me on the next flight to Kerlile? I received an invitation to speak at an event for the Kerlian film industry several months ago, if you remember, and I originally refused, but I was reading this article today about how the reformist government are loosening censorship rules and I’ve changed my mind. I contacted them, but inconveniently the event is on Tuesday night. If I go, perhaps I can persuade them to allow some of our films to be shown there. It’s an interesting market. It probably won’t work out, but it is worth a shot.”
Early on Monday morning, she packed and headed to the Laeralsford. Flights to Kerlile were very rarely full, only leaving from the capital, and it was easy to buy a last-minute ticket for someone of her wealth. She was able to tell on the phone last night that Michelle was slightly taken aback at her decision to go to Kerlile, but the ticket had been booked anyway, and Anaïs had become slightly nervous.
The invitation to speak in Kerlile was partly real - it had been sent, but it was in fact the coded message she had received warning her about the third leak in November. It had come without a date, conveniently allowing her to choose one. That was how it had been designed. She smiled to herself a little as she boarded the flight, admiring the long-term strategies that her handlers back in Kerlile came up with.
The flight was not quite as luxurious as she was used to, but it wasn’t horrible. She settled down in business class, relaxing into her seat and breathing a sigh of relief that she’d managed to get through passport control without any bother. Next to her, someone with a Lauchenoirian passport on her lap was hissing into a phone in Spanish, while across the aisle a pair of Rén businesswomen were going through what looked like reports.
When the flight took off, Anaïs finally allowed herself to fully relax, closing her eyes and settling down to sleep as they rose into the air.
*
When Liesa Dirks received her message, on Sunday, she knew right away that for the first time she was going to disobey an order. She’d surprised herself with the knowledge, in fact, as before that moment she hadn’t realised quite how invested she was in her life in Shuell. She was in love with her husband Rudi, and she couldn’t leave her two children, Alex and Miriam. The realisation caused her to have to sit down, as a dizziness came upon her.
It saddened her, in a way. She knew she was in danger, and her love for her family made her even more at risk. She would never, ever betray the Matriarchy, she knew, but she couldn’t leave her family. In two weeks, when she hadn’t returned, she would be left alone to meet whatever fate she faced. Which, she suspected, wouldn’t have any effect on what the Shuellian authorities would do with her if she was caught.
The idea of capture hurt her greatly. The idea that one day they might come and take her away from her family scared her, and she shook in fear at the idea. The message gave her a kind of hope, however. If her mission was over, and she was no longer employed by the Kerlian government, then perhaps she could actually live out her life without fearing that one day she would be called upon to do something she didn’t really want to do. Her fear, since she’d had her son, was that she would be called upon to do something that would put him in danger. That would no longer occur.
By morning, the thought that she was free of her obligations to Kerlile had begun to overtake her fear about being abandoned. When she went to work, at Sailbetter Foods, she had a spring in her step and a lightness within her. There was still a risk, yes, a horrible risk, but there was also a chance that she would be able to live a real life with her family, without constantly feeling the ache in her stomach that one day it would all turn to ash.
She was within the subset of Auroras who received their messages through coded targeted ads on her social media profiles, and she read the message as she was browsing one of these sites during her lunch break. It had been lying in wait for her since the middle of the night, but she hadn’t bothered to check in the morning. Upon reading it, she sighed and put down her cup of coffee.
“Is something the matter?” asked one of her colleagues.
“I just remembered I need to make a dentist appointment,” replied Irena. “I’ve been putting it off for far too long and I’m going to need to go soon. I think I need a filling.”
“Ouch,” said the colleague, wincing. “That doesn’t sound fun.”
“I’m just going to go outside and call the dentist surgery,” said Irena, standing and walking outside. Once she was away from the building, and certain nobody was in earshot, she took out her phone and called her husband. It went through to voicemail.
“Cole, I’m going away for a few days. Work trip, I need to fill in for one of my colleagues whose daughter is sick. Can you pack some of my things and get my passport ready? I’ll need to leave quickly once I get home. Thanks! I love you.”
She hung up the phone, and pocketed it, without feeling any guilt. She went back inside, finished her lunch and completed her shift, smiling and making small talk with her colleagues, doing the best job she could as always. At no point did she waver from her daily routine, nor did she attempt to remove any documents from the facility. For someone in her position, she was rather calm.
That evening, she arrived home to find her suitcase packed with the essentials she took on overnight trips, her passport sitting on top along with a note from her husband: Sorry I missed your call, enjoy your trip xx. He worked in the evenings, and he had already gone. She sighed sadly, she would have liked to say goodbye to him. She checked the contents of her case, went into her room and threw more things into a larger case, and then took them both outside to the car.
She drove north-east, towards the port where she could get a ferry to Xiomera. She turned the radio on as she drove, listening to some calming, classical music. It was important, she knew, that she monitored her mood and remained calm, especially at times like these. She was disappointed, in a way, that it was ending like this, but at least in the future she’d be able to relax more easily, live without the fear.
At the port, she bought a ticket for her and the car on the overnight ferry, joining the queue waiting. This was when she was nervous. They wouldn’t have recalled her, with an impersonal message that implied it was being sent to multiple agents, if there wasn’t some kind of risk. Once she’d had her passport checked and she was on the ferry, she felt a little better. She knew there were flights from Xiomera to Kerlile, and she would be able to get one easily the next day. She’d have to leave the car in Xiomera.
A few hours later, the ferry departed Eiria, and Irena watched from a window as the coast grew farther and farther away, and she doubted, with only a little sadness, that she would ever return.
*
Anaïs Lasserre received her copy of the message when she was in bed on Sunday night. She’d been checking her emails as she did habitually before going to sleep, but upon reading what seemed to be a spam message, she sat up, wide awake. The covers fell onto the floor as she’d jerked upright so quickly. Her heart was beating fast and she glanced around her expensive apartment as if expecting to see someone watching her. Eventually, she calmed slightly, and then sat back against the headboard and groaned.
It was a risk for those in her original occupation that on occasion, one grew to enjoy the life one had made, regardless of how false it was. She was one of those people. She loved her false life rather more than her real one, and didn’t want it to end. Still, she couldn’t take the risk of being abandoned alone to her fate, when she knew that there were leaks and suspicions everywhere. She was in too high-profile a position to believe that she was entirely safe. Still, she wondered if there wasn’t a way to compromise.
The first time she’d starred in a film, she’d realised how much she could get used to this life. It had been exciting, tantalising, and she’d allowed herself to become immersed in her cover in a way she knew was deeper than expected. When she founded Élan Studios, her mind had been on her mission, of course, but also on the projects she would have the chance to pursue and the opportunities this would create not just for Kerlile, but for herself.
She had the inkling of an idea, which probably wouldn’t work, but was worth a shot. She would return to Kerlile, and speak with them to propose her idea. They might agree, it would certainly save them some money, and she knew how badly the Kerlian economy was doing. She picked up her phone and dialled her PA, Michelle.
“Bonsoir,” she greeted her. “I am sorry to bother you so late, but could you book me on the next flight to Kerlile? I received an invitation to speak at an event for the Kerlian film industry several months ago, if you remember, and I originally refused, but I was reading this article today about how the reformist government are loosening censorship rules and I’ve changed my mind. I contacted them, but inconveniently the event is on Tuesday night. If I go, perhaps I can persuade them to allow some of our films to be shown there. It’s an interesting market. It probably won’t work out, but it is worth a shot.”
Early on Monday morning, she packed and headed to the Laeralsford. Flights to Kerlile were very rarely full, only leaving from the capital, and it was easy to buy a last-minute ticket for someone of her wealth. She was able to tell on the phone last night that Michelle was slightly taken aback at her decision to go to Kerlile, but the ticket had been booked anyway, and Anaïs had become slightly nervous.
The invitation to speak in Kerlile was partly real - it had been sent, but it was in fact the coded message she had received warning her about the third leak in November. It had come without a date, conveniently allowing her to choose one. That was how it had been designed. She smiled to herself a little as she boarded the flight, admiring the long-term strategies that her handlers back in Kerlile came up with.
The flight was not quite as luxurious as she was used to, but it wasn’t horrible. She settled down in business class, relaxing into her seat and breathing a sigh of relief that she’d managed to get through passport control without any bother. Next to her, someone with a Lauchenoirian passport on her lap was hissing into a phone in Spanish, while across the aisle a pair of Rén businesswomen were going through what looked like reports.
When the flight took off, Anaïs finally allowed herself to fully relax, closing her eyes and settling down to sleep as they rose into the air.
*
When Liesa Dirks received her message, on Sunday, she knew right away that for the first time she was going to disobey an order. She’d surprised herself with the knowledge, in fact, as before that moment she hadn’t realised quite how invested she was in her life in Shuell. She was in love with her husband Rudi, and she couldn’t leave her two children, Alex and Miriam. The realisation caused her to have to sit down, as a dizziness came upon her.
It saddened her, in a way. She knew she was in danger, and her love for her family made her even more at risk. She would never, ever betray the Matriarchy, she knew, but she couldn’t leave her family. In two weeks, when she hadn’t returned, she would be left alone to meet whatever fate she faced. Which, she suspected, wouldn’t have any effect on what the Shuellian authorities would do with her if she was caught.
The idea of capture hurt her greatly. The idea that one day they might come and take her away from her family scared her, and she shook in fear at the idea. The message gave her a kind of hope, however. If her mission was over, and she was no longer employed by the Kerlian government, then perhaps she could actually live out her life without fearing that one day she would be called upon to do something she didn’t really want to do. Her fear, since she’d had her son, was that she would be called upon to do something that would put him in danger. That would no longer occur.
By morning, the thought that she was free of her obligations to Kerlile had begun to overtake her fear about being abandoned. When she went to work, at Sailbetter Foods, she had a spring in her step and a lightness within her. There was still a risk, yes, a horrible risk, but there was also a chance that she would be able to live a real life with her family, without constantly feeling the ache in her stomach that one day it would all turn to ash.
LIDUN President 2024 | she/her | Puppets: Kerlile, Glanainn, Yesteria, Zongongia, Zargothrax