November

November 13

Yavisk hadn't come back to check on him Friday night; in fact, he hadn't been back all weekend, and Havar was feeling a bit on edge. Sunday morning was chapel, a short, semi-mandatory service during which Havar quietly repeated every prayer in Arabic under his breath. After chapel, his temporary minder took him to lunch in the main cafeteria and introduced him, for the first time, to his peer group and leader. The group leader was a young Northerner with black hair and black eyes, and skinny, narrow features in a long face. He stood almost a foot taller than Havar, but moved with a calm, fluid grace that kept his height from being overwhelming. His smile was gentle, shy, but there was an overt sexuality in his presence, in his walk and the easy fit of natori to his hips; Havar had felt a minor attraction immediately upon seeing him, but he'd decided to ignore it and let it go away. The group leader had smiled at him, showed a row of perfect pearl teeth, and had given his name as Awni-Ra.

In the cafeteria, Awni sat alone with him at a small side table and explained some of what was going on. He reached into a knapsack on the floor by his chair and pulled out a pretty, decorated bag containing a folder, a handbook of rules, and a number of other, more personal things that Havar had blushed at but seemed to leave Awni unperturbed. They had a frank discussion about what would be expected from him, from the Centre, and from Yavisk, and Havar had been proud of himself for managing to hold it together all the way through. Awni went on to tell Havar a little about himself; he was 27, born in the hinterland, had two brothers, one of which was a carrier, and a fiancé who was a weapons officer on base, due to be married nine months from now. Awni asked a few probing questions about Havar, but backed off when Havar seemed to close off and turn away. Tomorrow, though, he promised, after we get you moved into group housing, we'll have to talk. Havar nodded and picked at his food.


By evening, he was tired of waiting on edge for Yavisk to come. He emptied the bag that Awni had given him and laid out the contents on his bed. A folder with intro papers and a schedule, a blank notebook for classes and some pens, a pair of black underwear with lace and the CEC logo on them, a box of tampons and maxi pads, a book of carrier anatomy, a bible, a bottle of vitamins, some citrus-scented shampoo and conditioner, a book called The Surrendered Wife, and a ten-pack bundle of condoms.
The last thing he noticed was a little box of candy and soaps, obviously put together by hand, with a note tied to the top that had his name on it. 'From Awni-Ra', the note said, scrawled in a slanting hand, 'Best wishes and welcome.' Havar felt suddenly, extremely lonely.

~:~

At nine, the knock came. Havar got up, heart pounding, and went to the door. There was no one there. The knock sounded again, and after a confused minute, Havar realized it was coming from the tiny window that sat high on the outward-facing window of his room. Cautiously, he approached it.
"Hello?"
A mumbled sound was his reply. He wondered if he should call a chaperone.
"State your name." he demanded, an edge to his voice that he hadn't heard before. He felt so vulnerable here, in a strange place with strange rules, without his gun, and with no one to back him up. Another knock.
"What?"
The voice was clearer, still muffled, but sounding urgent. He approached the window, dragged a chair over to it so he could look through.
"Fuck!"
He almost fell backwards, then regained his balance and looked again. Brian was outside of his window.
He made quick work of figuring out the lock, and pushed the window open as far as it would go.
"Get in here! What are you doing here? Someone could have seen you - what are you doing here?"
He used both hands to help Brian pull himself through the window, tumble ungraciously across the desk and down onto the floor. From the ground, Brian smiled up at him.
"Came to check up on you." he got to his feet. "I heard what happened - everyone did, and, well, you're our friend, Granger, no matter what...else you are. We wanted to be sure that you were OK. Are you OK?"
Brian's gaze was shy, but appraising, and Havar suddenly felt embarrassed. For a few moments, he'd forgotten his situation, forgotten that he was Havar the Carrier and not Havar the Soldier anymore. Brian was scrutinizing his face.
"You look OK. Not hurt or anything."
"I'm fine." he swallowed, wanting to ask the question but fearing the answer. "What did - what did everyone say about me? What do they think happened?"
Brian exhaled in a puff and whistled low.
"They think you got found out. They think that Yavisk caught you. They think he - " he stopped there, cast a glance up at Havar, who was pale. "Did he?"
Havar couldn't answer for a second, and his hesitation was all Brian needed.
"Fucking hell."
"The Centre thinks I'm pregnant." he just blurted it out; he didn't know why or where it came from, but it bubbled up and he had to tell someone and then it was just out there. Brian stared at him for a minute.
"And are you?"
Havar shook his head furiously.
"I'm not. I swear I'm not."
Brian nodded.
"Good. Because that would really complicate what we're about to do."
Havar took two steps back and stared at him.
"What?"
"Yeah, this isn't just a break-in, Granger. This is a rescue mission."