Anon: Chapter 5 - The Letter
Mrs. Hammond rose up slowly, only a foot away from Kate’s front side. She dipped her fingers in disinfectant gel and slowly rubbed her fingers together. As she did so, she stared Kate down as if to say, “I know your secrets. I know why you are here.”
“OK,” Mrs. Hammond said.
Kate almost gasped at the word.
“OK…..what?” asked her husband.
“I said OK. What else do you want me to say? OK. We’ll take her.” barked Mrs. Hammond. And she floated away on her royal feet and left the room.
“Oh, right! OK. Yes. OK then. Erm...Mrs. Roberts,” said Mr. Hammond to Mother Hen. “Please take the child to her new chambers, and be sure she has everything she needs. We want her to be comfortable. She has a great task ahead.”
Kate's smile became genuine as she followed Mother Hen out of the drawing room and into her new life as the Hammond's surrogate.
Chapter 5: The Letter
Servants were not discouraged from writing home to their families, but it was not necessarily encouraged either. And Kate did have an identity to protect. So she refrained from writing weekly -- which was her inclination -- and settled for a monthly ritual of pen to paper when she could. And, of course, the “send to” address and name were false ones, carefully crafted to route directly to the surrogate home for pickup or delivery to her fake family, in the event the mail was intercepted by her owners.
And every month, her dutiful Doabie would hop on a cramped, dirty, top-heavy bus, swaying with the weight of bodies bivouacked on the roof and sides of the vehicle. For three turbulent hours, sun or snow, he would cling to the metal ridging on the top and sides of the bus, hoping not to lose grip and fall. He had only one objective: to pick up any mail he might have received from Kate each month. And as much as sentimentality played a part, there were other reasons for the correspondence. Sometimes Kate would send slips of fiat vouchers she had earned, which her owners allowed, and which was common practice among slaves and servants. Other times, she had information to share, questions to put forth, and status updates to include.
“Hey Dobes,
Things have mellowed out this month. The Mrs. isn’t as harsh as she used to be. Maybe cuz I'm carrying her child. Who knows. I mean, we're only a month or so in, and it may not take. But she has let up. For awhile there she was after my blood. I couldn't get through an hour without her criticism or harsh behavior. But she has chilled a bit, I guess. Or maybe she’s just bored of me. I can’t tell which. But the other day, I swear she was almost smiling when she saw me fixing a stubborn piece of hair that would not stay put.
The Chancellor is still semi-tolerable. His breath is gross, but the rest of him isn’t terrible, which is a plus I guess, and he doesn’t chase after me like I thought he might. I mostly try to steer clear when he’s around, and the Mrs. has eyes in the back of her head, so the two combined keep things at bay. But there are times he gets past her… My contract says “fertile days only” but he finds ways now and then. Don’t worry, though. It's not so bad. And we know how to avoid getting caught. Last thing we need is for me to lose my job, or my head for that matter. And now that I am pregnant - I can't remember if I told you that last month. I don't think I did, I don't think I even knew yet. But anyway, now that I am “With child” -- Ha ha! I always wanted to say "with child." It sounds biblical or something, like I'm going to bear a king. Anyway, now that I’m preggos, he’s not really allowed to come near me for the next 8 months. House rules. So that’s a bonus. Can't complain, right? My life is pretty cush.
I've got hot water every day -- I told you that, right? Hot water Dobes! I wish I could send you a tub of it in the mail! It's unbelievable. And 3 meals a day too! I actually put on like 10 pounds, on top of the 10 pounds they made me gain at the prep Home. I think they're fattening me up so they can roast me and eat me during Festives! Only 30 pounds to go and I'll be sitting on a silver platter with an apple shoved in my mouth. And I'm eating for two now, so at this rate....but you know what bugs? The Mrs. keeps telling me to eat more and fatten up so the baby gets his nutrients (it's a boy btw. Did you know they can detect the XY chromosome within a month? Who knew?). But then she turns around and comments on how I'm chubby and I should take walks more. I will never please that woman.
Plus, I'm not chubby! The doctor said I'm actually at ideal weight. Even after gaining 20 pounds. Guess I'm making up for all those skipped meals back home. But even if I get chubby, I don't care. I'd rather be chubby and full than skinny and hungry. Don't worry, though. I still practice my combat skills in my private gym. And if someone happens to pass by, like the head of security, I just act like I'm dancing. Ha ha. That guy is so dumb. His tattoo says he has an IQ of 6, but I think he's got an IQ of 3. He is kinda cute, though. And come to think of it...nevermind. We'll get to that later. But I think he likes me. And I have an idea. I'll tell you about it next time, if it's still worth sharing.
I don’t have any news this week, really. I’ve enclosed a 20 pound note. Are you liking your new place? Did you get a roommate yet? Let me know if you need any more money. Otherwise, I’ll start saving up for the account.”
After reading Kate’s letters, Doabie would immediately sit down and scribble out a letter in response and drop it in “outgoing” for next days’ post. He often had to scramble in order to make it to the bus stop in time to catch the rusty old tank as it circled back to carry its bundles of bodies in the opposite direction. But now that Mother had died, the letters were eased of the burden of detailing her deterioration and eventual death, which left time for scribbling down other things. The two siblings could now focus their energies more on what was at hand: their plans.
Kate’s reason for choosing pen and paper, over other more efficient methods of communication, were not just for strategic reasons. She actually preferred antiquated methods of communication. It made her feel authentic, and free somehow, and a bit nostalgic for the way things used to be, before corruption set in so deafeningly. This letter, in a stamped envelope, was the shining symbol of unadulterated identity that could not be tampered with, or splayed out for the world to see. And the best thing about letters was the writers could speak a little more freely, and keep a slice of independence and privacy in tact. It was a wonder more Chainers didn’t use that method, to be honest. Then again, it was illegal. But Anons were given unspoken exception, as everyone knew their access to more updated methods was extremely limited, and most of what they wrote was insignificant with regards to public safety.
Still, those letters were inspected randomly, and Kate did lose them sometimes, and the money inside them. Letters sent from inside the city to the outskirts were usually from Anon servants, sending money home to their families. And servant correspondence was particularly targeted for “random” inspection, due to that fact. But at least 80% of Kate's letters actually made it home. And it still was a better method than digital transport or fiber optic hologram, which was subject to hacking, information harvesting, and NSA restrictions. Blockchain or not, those methods were invasive. And this was why she chose the antiquated method, even though there were times her letters never made it home. This was something of a frustration for Doabie, who had just made the 3-hour knuckle numbing ride into the country. But the two knew the risks and frustrations that came with the territory, and it was just the way things were. No sense in wasting energy sulking about it.
There were times, though, because of the risk of inspection, theft, and loss, Kate and Doabie had to take measures to not only protect information that was sensitive, but also duplicate efforts. If something was especially important, they would use code, and send doubles and triplicates of the same message, in order to ensure delivery of at least one of the letters. And this usually did the trick. But it couldn’t be done every time, as it was time consuming, and pulled on resources, which were limited and needed to be rationed for the future.
Money also needed to be rationed for the Fixer, as a small percentage of her earnings were sent monthly to him as well. So this dug into profits, which slowed plans. But it was a small price to pay. They were in this for the long haul, so the only real urgency was just a general feeling of disease, which was part of their genetic experience as a whole, and nothing new.
And as far as they were concerned, things were going according to plan.
haha blockchain also in the picture. I wonder will kate willing to give up her son when the time comes... what was their plan hmm... i love this format on how you deliver the story., ok now i must sit tight to wait for next chapter..
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