\nThe holding cell is well-used, but clean. Made for the native Tyulti population rather than the Earth-born, everything is wrong-sized for the group of human women that have arrived over the last few hours. Linda closes her eyes for a moment. Her stomach cramps again. The feeling subsides, and she checks out the cell. Most of the other five women are silent, but their sideways glances speak of suspicion and fear.\n<\/p>\n
\nLinda guesses them to be a range of nationalities and languages. Two older German speakers occupy the lone, sheetless bunk bed and hold a rapid-fire conversation in low voices. Before she can reach any conclusions about the others, she feels tears welling up. She closes her eyes again and forces herself to think of something else. She calculates whether her worst student has any chance of passing her English class. Maybe. The tears subside.\n<\/p>\n
\nLinda wishes she had stayed on Earth. She\u2019d swap this cell for an Earth police station cell. Or even a hospital. At least then she\u2019d know why she was here.\n<\/p>\n
\nThe dingy passageway is muted now. Earlier, a constant stream of Tyulti enforcers passed through on their way to other holding cells. The stream became a dribble, then a drip, then no one for a long time. Hours passed. How many? She replays the last few days from memory as she waits.\n<\/p>\n
\n
\n\u201cEarth-born people play games to learn how to obey rules.\u201d Linda pursed her lips, red pen wavering over the homework assignment she was grading but moved on. \u201cSokker is a good game for learning rules.\u201d This time a circle. \u201cEarth-born people learn when to bent rules,\u201d at this Linda\u2019s pen darted in to change the \u2018t\u2019 into a \u2018d,\u2019 \u201cby the use of fowls.\u201d Another mark.\n<\/p>\n
\nA knock on her apartment door startled her. Who could it be so long after sunset? Sitting at her dining table grading essays on her students\u2019 favorite Earth sports, the knock could have been a relief. It could have been her neighbor, or even the building manager, but it wasn\u2019t.\n<\/p>\n
\nThe monitor attached to the door frame illuminated as she approached, and Linda sucked in a tense breath: three Tyulti in Enforcement garb. Near-human except for coats of fur that blended into the grey-black of their uniforms, two of them stood at relative ease with rifle-sized diasho<\/em> cradled in their arms. The shortest one, still much taller than Linda, was empty-handed.\n<\/p>\n \nShe considered ignoring the visitors. But Steve Masser had ignored a visit from the enforcers last year. Mr. Enio, the Tyulti who had recruited them all from Earth, had told the teachers that he\u2019d been repatriated because of a family emergency. No one had ever heard from him again.\n<\/p>\n \nLinda opened the door.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cAaahhhhh,\u201d said the tallest, best-groomed member of the group. \u201cHello, you speak Tyult?\u201d He blinked. Linda also blinked politely, failing to read the situation.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cNo, sorry. Can I help you?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nThe official spoke in short, Tyult syllables to both of his junior staff, who answered in the negative with regretful head tilts.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cPassport? Passport? See?\u201d the officer asked with a smile.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cOh, sure\u201d, Linda said, holding up her first finger. \u201cWait one minute, please.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nThe officer nodded. \u201cOne minute, yes.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nLinda grabbed her Earth passport, bringing it back to the door.\n<\/p>\n \nAfter inspecting the document page by page, the officer asked, \u201cVisa? University Visa?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nLinda frowned. \u201cIt\u2019s in process; I don\u2019t have it yet.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nThe officer at the door asked again, with bared teeth\u2014a Tyult frown.\n<\/p>\n \nLinda held up her finger again. She scrambled to grab her handheld, a thin plastic oblong that lit up as she lifted it from the tabletop. Returning to the door, she pulled up the contact details for Mr. Enio, the recruiter of all alien faculty.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cAhh,\u201d the Enforcer said with relief. With a sharp word, one of the younger males produced a smaller handheld. The young officer tapped it against Linda\u2019s device, the diasho <\/em>dangling in his other hand.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cThank you, that is all,\u201d the officer said, and the trio strode back to the apartment building\u2019s elevator while Linda looked at their retreating forms, perplexed.\n<\/p>\n \nShe closed the door and leaned against it, only then noticing the sweat rolling down her back. She texted Mr. Enio, \u201cHi. Enforcers came to my home asking about visa status, please advise?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nWracking her brain, Linda tried to remember what Steve had said in his last appearances in the teacher\u2019s room. Something about regulations? Interpretations of what\u2019s true? As hard as she tried, she couldn\u2019t quite remember. Steve complained a lot.\n<\/p>\n \nNo reply from Mr. Enio. She sat back down to her students\u2019 assignments but couldn\u2019t focus. At midnight, she went to bed, spending the night with restless dreams.\n<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \nThe Next Day\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cDid you get the fuzzbutts at your door?\u201d Ron asked, his Spanish accent nearly unnoticeable. All the Earth-born instructors were around the long, trestle-style table occupying the middle of the Teacher\u2019s Room. A couple of Tyult professors, their fur variegated with patches of silver hair suggesting age, were at smaller desks on the sides of the room pecking at computers, creating student worksheets in various Earth languages.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cShhhh! Don\u2019t say fuzzbutts. You can\u2019t say that,\u201d Linda said.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWhy not,\u201d Ron said, \u201cClement does.\u201d Down the table, one of the Mandarin professors sat, reading a book. He turned his head at the mention of his name and grinned.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cClement is not a nice person,\u201d said Raia, just above a whisper.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI\u2019m right here<\/em>,\u201d Clement didn\u2019t turn from his book as he spoke.\n<\/p>\n \nThe group fell silent.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cSo? You all had visitors too?\u201d Ron sat back, stretching in his chair.\n<\/p>\n \nClement looked at Ron and rolled his eyes before speaking again, this time directed at a female Tyult on a computer facing the wall opposite him. \u201cMs. Chirgaa, we all had enforcers visit us last night to check our papers; do you think we\u2019re in trouble?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nMs. Chirgaa twisted around, considering us with an unreadable expression. \u201cPhe skagaan Tyulti.<\/em>\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nEveryone knew what this meant. <\/em>This is Tyulti. <\/em>\n<\/p>\n \nMs. Chirgaa narrowed her eyes. \u201cDid you remember to blink?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nEveryone blinked in reply.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cAre you all carrying your Earth passports more importantly? You must always obey the laws here.\u201d The deep voice from the far side of the office surprised everyone, including Ms. Chirgaa. Professor Emeritus Katkop was a mountain of well-groomed fur and manners, but he rarely engaged in conversation with the rest of the department. We stopped blinking, and we shifted in our chairs without speaking.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cNot so good,\u201d Professor Katkop said.\n<\/p>\n \n \nFootsteps and muffled Tyult voices approach. Linda looks up. A giant, dark-furred, enforcer approaches the cell with Raia, a Bulgarian teacher from Linda\u2019s university. The enforcer opens the cell door and pushes Raia into the space. The women in the cell slink away from the guards. Linda raises a hand, catching Raia\u2019s attention, and, with a quick nod of greeting, her friend moves to Linda\u2019s side. The shadow-colored enforcer stands near the open cell door, waiting as a pair of smaller male Tyult\u2019s push a hovering grav cart laden with small blocks wrapped in something white in front of the open cell door. Next to the stack are a silver thermos and paper cups.\n<\/p>\n \nThe furred duo positions the cart across the entrance, and the taller enforcer gestures at Linda and another woman.\n<\/p>\n \nDismayed at being singled out, Linda feels her stomach tighten again. One of the furred guards taps, impatient, on the metal thermos, and, as if in response, her stomach growls. She and the other prisoner step up and blink several times. The guards give one cursory blink in return and the taller Tyult oversees them as they dole out food and drink to their cellmates.\n<\/p>\n \nLinda conceals a shudder as she passes Raia a cup of lukewarm tea with a sandwich wrapped in what feels like toilet paper.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cAre you okay?\u201d she mutters as Raia takes the food. The sound of people chewing, and the muted conversation of the German women continue in the background.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYeah, I\u2019m fine. You?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nLinda tries on a brief smile as they unwrap their sandwiches. The bitter stink of local tea permeates the cell. Raia sets the cup on the ground, untasted, and takes a bite of her sandwich. Not really a sandwich\u2014a thick salty protein paste between two layers of spongy vegetable slices\u2014but both of them devour their portions.\n<\/p>\n \nRaia wipes her mouth with the paper wrapper and asks, \u201cHas anyone questioned you yet?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nLinda swallows the last bite of her sandwich. \u201cNo, what do you mean? Like, they took you somewhere and asked you questions about\u2014I don\u2019t even know\u2014 what did they ask?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cIt all seemed pointless.\u201d She brushes crumbs into the sandwich wrapper. \u201cBut if they haven\u2019t formally arrested us, that means they want something. Answers.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cThey can\u2019t round us up like animals, put us in a pen, and ask us questions.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYou think you have the same rights here as on Earth,\u201d Raia says. \u201cThat\u2019s very na\u00efve of you.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nLinda spends the next half hour thinking about Raia\u2019s words and listening to her cellmates complain softly in German. Eventually, Linda notices the rhythm of the German ladies\u2019 speech changing. She watches them laying cards on the bare mattress. Raia and one of the other cellmates watch over their shoulders. Linda can\u2019t recognize the game they\u2019re playing, but drifts over and joins Raia behind a woman whose white hair is pulled into an untidy ponytail.\n<\/p>\n \nThe ponytailed player cranes her neck around to look at Linda with glittering eyes. \u201cYou know why they don\u2019t play games on Tyult?” she says. \u201cThey don\u2019t play games here because they don\u2019t understand bluffing, and they don\u2019t do well with ambiguity. Here, everything is all rules.\u201d She stares at her hand and places a card on top of the small pile between the players.\n<\/p>\n \nHer opponent, younger, but still mature in age, checks the card on the mattress, then her own hand. Her face drops as she lays her own hand down in defeat.\n<\/p>\n \nThe older woman turns to Linda again.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYou can bend the rules here, but in parameters that make little sense to Earth-borns. And bluffing? We Earth-born use it to win back home, but perhaps here not so much. We still don\u2019t understand the rules of the game on Tyult do we?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nThe sound of the rusty lock on the cell door interrupts the German. A female Tyulti officer, her somber uniform accented by her deer-brown fur, peers at the prisoners from outside the cage.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cLinda Nash?\u201d The guard says.\n<\/p>\n \nLinda raises her hand. The officer issues orders in tumbling syllables of Tyult while motioning for Linda to exit the cage. After a short walk, her escort deposits her in a small windowless room with a metal table and two chairs, all bolted to the floor. The door is closed and locked behind her. Linda surveys the room then sits down in the cold metal chair facing the door. The seat warms underneath her as she waits. She waits and waits. She shifts in the chair as parts of her rear end go numb. Has she been forgotten? She considers getting up to bang on the door, then it swings open. A dignified Tyult female with dark, lush fur, enters and greets Linda in near-unaccented English.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI\u2019m very sorry to have displaced your day, Miss Linda.\u201d Displaced? \u201cLet\u2019s try to get you released sooner rather than later, heh? I am Captain Roxgra, and I am here to sort things out.\u201d As she sits across the table from Linda, she smooths her perfectly tidy uniform jacket.\n<\/p>\n \nMaybe this wouldn\u2019t be so bad after all\u2014but why lock everyone up to begin with? Linda remembers to use her courteous blinks. The captain gives one blink in reply.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cThis is more than an administrative mistake, or an inconvenience\u2014\u201d Linda says, but the captain grimaces and she falters.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cSome disturbing intelligence has come to light over the course of the last few days. The Ministry of the Interior is determined to find out if there is a threat to the Tyulti Republic. Unfortunately, the rumor suggests the involvement of foreign educators in private universities. We have to determine the truth of this intelligence.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nLinda scrambles to recall anything about political instability and university educators but draws a blank.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cSo\u2026 your most logical response was to detain all Earth-borns who teach? All of us?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nUnbelievable.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYes, of course, let\u2019s get right to the point: have you heard anything that might apply to our investigations?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nLinda bites off a sarcastic reply and stops to consider the captain\u2019s question.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cNo, not at all. University adjuncts are not really people with agendas. We\u2019re simple people who want to make a living and see the galaxy.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cSure, sure,\u201d says Captain Roxgra. \u201cHow about your work permit? Why don\u2019t you have one?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nLinda wrinkles her eyebrows. \u201cMr. Enio from personnel told me that\u2019s a visa processing issue. The Enforcement Bureau manages work and residence permits. My papers have been in process for months; I wouldn\u2019t mind if you looked into that for me.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWhy are you working without a permit?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nLinda\u2019s heart begins pounding. Has the school screwed this up?\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cBecause that\u2019s how I was told it\u2019s done.\u201d She wipes her palms on her trousers.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYou know you could be prosecuted for working without a permit,\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nWhat? Is this Tyulti trying to game me into working for her as an informant? Maybe that German woman didn\u2019t know what she was talking about.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWhat about the school?\u201d Linda said.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cOf course, the school could be fined as well, but you should have gone back to your planet of origin to wait for your visa approval to come through.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nLinda feels her blood pressure, the pressure in her entire body, seeking release. It\u2019s hard to keep from shouting, so she speaks with deliberate slowness. \u201cEvery single language teacher I have met here has done the same thing that I have. Are you suggesting that you are going to arrest every Earth-born teacher on the planet and jail them when it\u2019s your higher education system that is at fault?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nThe captain remains silent for a moment and as Linda\u2019s body unclenches, Captain Roxgra says, \u201cRemind me why you have chosen to work without a work permit again?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cThey said this is how everyone does it. Everyone I\u2019ve met is doing the same thing. \u2018<\/em>Phe skagaan Tyulti,\u2019 <\/em>even I know that one, \u2018This is Tyulti.\u2019\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cIt seems to me that you have misplaced your trust,\u201d Roxgra says. \u201cYou are innocently working for an institution that may have intentions that are less than honest.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cAnd what about the other people you\u2019ve locked up?\u201d says Linda, gesturing over her shoulder.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cDon\u2019t worry about them. Worry about you.\u201d Captain Roxgra pulls a business card from her breast pocket, along with Linda\u2019s passport. \u201cLet\u2019s see how we can fix everything. I\u2019ll hold on to this.\u201d She waves the passport, then slides it back into her pocket. With her other hand, she passes over the business card. \u201cAnd you can hold on to this.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nLinda takes the card with both hands, staring at it as if it\u2019s just introduced itself.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cLet\u2019s arrange a chat every Tenth Day afternoon, shall we?\u201d Roxgra says. \u201cOnce you are done with work. Go home, relax for an hour. After that\u2014call me. I\u2019d like to know more about the opinions of the faculty in your department. In particular, I’d like to know if they express any political sentiments, on or off duty. I want to know what kind of phone conversations you overhear them having, and who comes to visit them. Listen to the students, and what they say about their teachers. Do you have questions?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYes, at least fifty,\u201d Linda says. Captain Roxgra gives her a sharp look and pats the passport in her pocket. \u201cWhat about my fellow Earth colleagues? Will they be reporting on me? What about Tyulti staff?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cDon\u2019t worry about your colleagues, worry about you. I suggest you start paying attention. I\u2019ll be happy to hear about emotions, expressions, body language, anything you can share until you learn more. Effort means a lot to me.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWhat about Raia? She\u2019s\u2014\u201d The captain holds up a hand, and Linda stops speaking.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cGood evening, Linda. Don\u2019t worry, I\u2019ll be watching you.\u201d The captain stands and knocks on the door.\n<\/p>\n \nAnother uniformed Tyult deposits Linda outside the main gates of the Civil Enforcement Offices. It\u2019s the middle of the night. A self-driving emyst <\/em>beeps in the whirling traffic, and Linda raises her hand to flag it down. It stops dead and reverses in her direction. Other cars veer around it, honking. Linda\u2019s trembling slows as she gets in and directs the vehicle to take her home.\n<\/p>\n \nDespite the sunny, clear weather, Linda stays inside all weekend. The hours of the day melt into irrelevance. Everything is unreal, unreliable, including the sun in the sky. She paces. She stops. She sits and stares. Several times she reaches for her handheld to call her fellow teachers, Ron, or Raia, then sets it back down. None of her colleagues reach out to her.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI\u2019m an alienated alien trapped on an alien world,\u201d Linda thinks, but she can\u2019t bring herself to laugh. She can\u2019t grade papers or write lesson plans. She doesn\u2019t book the trip with Ron that she\u2019d been planning for the midterm holiday to the Irium waterfalls. She exists paralyzed, pinned down like a moth on a board, under a Tyult gaze.\n<\/p>\n \nMonday morning, when she arrives at the teacher\u2019s room, most of her colleagues are bent over laptops or papers, oblivious to her arrival. Raia isn\u2019t there. Linda drops her briefcase on the conference table in the middle of the room with a thud. The other faculty raise their heads, but then return their gazes to their paper and computers.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cSo,\u201d Linda asks, elongating the \u201co\u201d with a casualness that is anything but casual. \u201cWhat did everyone get up to Friday night?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nRon looks at her with a pained expression but says nothing. Everyone else ignores her. The discomfort in Ron\u2019s reaction makes Linda chest clench. Something breaks inside her.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWhere\u2019s Raia?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cShe was here, but she left an hour ago,\u201d says Ron. \u201cShe left with Clement.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cRight,\u201d Linda says to the air. She seats herself at a battered communal wall tablet, taps a stylus on the screen, and waits for it to complete its start sequence. Once the tablet comes to life, she types in a search for the address of the Earth consulate, copies it onto a sheet of scratch paper, repacks her belongings, and leaves. In her peripheral vision, she catches a few of her former colleagues lifting their heads to watch her departure.\n<\/p>\n \nAn emyst <\/em>drops her off in a neighborhood of suburban apartments with paint peeling from jumbled boxes cluttered with pastel-colored balconies. The consulate itself is a large cement bunker, several stories tall, surrounded by an imposing wall. Along the wall, a disorganized line of Tyulti hold papers. The line moves in fits and starts; each group takes anxious steps toward the gate. On the other side of the road, a series of office supply shops offering passport-style photos are interspersed with seedy-looking peppermilk houses with open fronts. The vendors of the traditional hot, spicy Tyult beverage are swamped with people watching the line from crowded wooden tables. Some of the customers juggle glasses of peppermilk and their papers. Two Tyulti take photos of the people in the queue from their seats, and a few ignore the show, tapping on their handhelds.\n<\/p>\n \nLinda ignores the line and strides up to the Tyulti enforcers at the gate. She ignores a low muttering from the people at the front of the line.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cAppointment paper?\u201d asks an official in heavily-accented English.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cNo, no, I\u2019m an Earth citizen,\u201d Linda says. \u201cI need to speak to someone immediately.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cNo appointment, no enter,\u201d says the official and he turns back to the line to reach for a young Tyulti woman\u2019s extended papers.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cNo, no, it\u2019s an emergency.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nThe Enforcer pauses with his hands full of documents and squints at Linda. \u201cPassport?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI don\u2019t have it. I have my driver\u2019s license, birth certificate, and social security card.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nThe police officer moves all the paper into his right hand and extracts a slip of paper from a plastic sleeve nailed to the concrete wall next to him. \u201cCall number for emergency appointment.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nLinda plucks the paper from his hands. She strides across the street to the nearest, busiest peppermilk shop and raises her voice. \u201cDoes anyone speak English? I\u2019ll pay 100 refedi to use someone\u2019s handheld for a few minutes.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nA young female with long fur responds. \u201cPlease use mine. You don\u2019t need to give me any money.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nLinda thanks her and takes the device, which is in English. She moves to a corner of the cafe, covering the receiver and her mouth with her hand as it rings through. She looks around, unsure if any of the Tyulti watching the line have turned their attention to her.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cHello, hello? Oh, hi, look I need help. I am outside the consulate now. Something terrible has happened, and\u2014no, no. I have literally walked away from my whole life. I was detained by the Enforcers, something about political unrest. I need to see someone. No, I don\u2019t have access to the Network right now. I am across the road from you at one of the peppermilk vendors. Can someone come out and get me? I swear to God, just help me please. It really is an emergency. Hasn\u2019t anyone else shown up like this? Ok\u2014ok\u2014yes. Alright, my name is Linda Nash. Yes, N-A-S-H. I can be there in 30 seconds. Oh, ok, I\u2019ll wait a minute then. Ok, thank you, goodbye.\u201d Linda pushes the disconnect button on the handheld, handing it back to its owner with a strained but grateful smile. \u201cThank you.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201c<\/em>Upgo ke <\/em>I was able to help you,\u201d the young woman replies.\n<\/p>\n \n“Thank you\u2026. Are you sure I can\u2019t give you some money in return?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nThe stranger smiles. \u201cNo. Perhaps we will encounter each other on Earth one day. If we do, you can buy me a drink. Now, if you will excuse me, it is almost my appointment time.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cGood luck.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nThey step out of the caf\u00e9 together into the gray, watery light of the street. The Tyulti woman veers right to join the queue, while Linda crosses the street toward the entrance to the consulate.\n<\/p>\n \nThe sentry\u2019s handheld bursts into static laden Tyulti as she gets closer. After a brief conversation, he meets her gaze and says, \u201cName?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cLinda Nash.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nThe officer grunts and gestures her into the secure area inside the gate. Linda passes through several stages of security, fields questions about the purpose of her visit, then enters the body scanner. She deposits her belongings, except for her wallet and papers, into a locker, and receives a key with stern instructions not to lose it. Her wallet and papers are hand-inspected before being run through another scanning machine. Afterwards, the Tyult security officers herd her and a cluster of strangers into an elevator. A human United Nations marine escorts them up one floor and guides them along a breezeway to the consulate fifty meters away. At the entrance, the visitors produce their documents for another Marine, and again explain their purpose for visiting. A brunette Earth-born woman in a gray pantsuit meets Linda.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cAre you Linda Nash?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nLinda nods.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cPlease come with me.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nThe official turns down a corridor to the left., then opens the last door to lead her through a busy office into a glass cubicle with the blinds drawn shut. A sandy-haired Earth-born man in his early forties rises from behind his desk.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cJohn Scanlon, nice to meet you.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cLinda Nash, thanks for seeing me so quickly.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nAfter a firm handshake with no blinking, they settle into two guest chairs.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cLinda, I think we already have an idea what\u2019s happened and why you are here, but would you mind telling me your entire story? Would it be alright if I recorded it?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cSure.\u201d Linda explains the events of the last few days.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWell, I should tell you first off that you\u2019re the third person today that has shown up under the same circumstances.\u201d He taps his fingers on his knee. \u201cI\u2019m required to ask what you want from us.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI want out. I want to go home. I don\u2019t know what\u2019s going on.\u201d She waves her hands in front of her. \u201cAnd I don\u2019t want to find out.\u201d John nods. \u201cI didn\u2019t sign up for this; I just came here for the job and to see the galaxy. Can you get me out of here?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cLet me explain how this works. When an Earth-born has a personal emergency, we can arrange an emergency travel document. It will get you through immigration formalities so you can get back home. We can even get you on a flight home if you need it. However, you\u2019ll have to repay the costs to the United Nations, and you won\u2019t be able to get a new passport or leave Earth again until you repay those expenses.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cNot a problem.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nJohn raises a hand. \u201cThe issue that\u2019s less routine is that this is a fairly unstable political situation. We aren\u2019t sure what\u2019s happening, and getting you to the spaceport itself, as well as through passport control, may be an issue. Residents of this world need an exit permit to leave, and you won\u2019t have one. You\u2019ll be depending on the good grace of the border agent to let you out. Sometimes it happens and sometimes it doesn\u2019t.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nLinda breathes deep. \u201cWhat if I had a family emergency?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cA government representative would never tell you to claim something like this, but I can see that this would be an easy answer. People use it. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn\u2019t. The Tyult people are sticklers for the rules, although our culture is so messy to them that sometimes they make allowances for us. You\u2019d have to take your chances. Are you still game?\u201d John\u2019s face is neutral, but his head is bobbing slightly, as if his subconscious is telling Linda to take this chance.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cGet me out of here. Please. As soon I as possibly can.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cIt\u2019s going to take a few hours to sort out your travel document and draw up the promissory letter for you to sign. I suggest you stay here on the consulate grounds until everything is ready. If you\u2019re okay with that, I\u2019ll ask you to leave your proof of identity with me. I\u2019ll set you up in a room with the other folks that have made it in here. How\u2019s that?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYes, this sounds great.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nJohn takes the papers she holds out. \u201cWe\u2019re hoping that the left hand doesn\u2019t know what the right hand is doing. With luck. you\u2019ll be able to waltz right out.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201c<\/em>Phe skagaan Tyulti. <\/em>This is Tyulti, as they keep telling me here.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cExactly, and what it really means is that we\u2019ll never quite understand what\u2019s going on.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nJohn leads Linda out of his office into another glassed area with blinds, a long meeting table, and uncomfortable looking chairs holding two other Earth-born. Linda is surprised to find Raia and Clement looking back at her. Relief seeps into her chest.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWell look who else made it,\u201d Raia says. \u201cWould you like something to drink? They said we could help ourselves.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nLinda dashes around the table and embraces her colleague. Some of the tension melts out of her shoulders. Raia rolls her eyes, but pats Linda on the shoulder in return.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cDrink?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cUh, maybe later?\u201d says Linda, nonplussed.\n<\/p>\n \nLinda raises a hand to greet Clement and he nods in reply.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWhat happened to you, Linda?\u201d he says. \u201cWhen you didn\u2019t come in to work, I thought the Tyultis kept you in custody.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI was late, I haven\u2019t slept all weekend. I thought\u2014I assumed\u2014\u201d Linda tries to stop tears from welling up. She sniffs. \u201cYou heard about Steve last year, right?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI heard he had a family emergency. He didn\u2019t even say goodbye,\u201d Clement says.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cAha,\u201d Raia says. \u201cThe old family emergency excuse. I heard someone bluffed their way out of their job contract last year by having a family emergency so she wouldn\u2019t get stuck paying penalties for breaking the contract.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI always wondered why no one stays more than a year or two,\u201d says Clement. \u201cThey wanted me to become an informer, and they took my passport. I had to agree at the time, but I spoke to Raia in the office this morning and we decided to come here.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cAnd you trust Clement?\u201d Linda said to Raia.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI\u2019m right here,<\/em>\u201d says Clement, with a ghost of a smile.\n<\/p>\n \nRaia shrugs. \u201cThat\u2019s what you get for not learning to blink; you\u2019re labeled.<\/em>\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYeah, yeah, bad expat, whatever.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWhat happened to you<\/em>?\u201d Linda asks Clement.\n<\/p>\n \nHe grins at her question. \u201cThey didn\u2019t have my name spelled right in their records, so they couldn\u2019t hold me. Those are the rules. I was probably back home before you even arrived.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWell done, Clement,\u201d Raia says. \u201cYou\u2019re a quick thinker.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cNot so much that. The same thing happened to me back on Earth in Lanzhou.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cThis has happened to you before?\u201d Linda asks.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cLess fur, same issues.\u201d Clement shrugs.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI\u2019m surprised to see you here, Linda,\u201d Raia says. \u201cEither you\u2019re braver than I thought, or you\u2019re here as a spy.\u201d The bottom falls out of Linda\u2019s stomach.\n<\/p>\n \nRaia laughs. \u201cYou should see your face. Calm down, I\u2019m just kidding.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nClement chuckles.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI\u2019m looking forward to getting off Tyult,\u201d Raia says. \u201cHow about you guys?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cDefinitely. Do you two understand what\u2019s happening?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cLook, paranoia against us aliens is par for the course,\u201d Clement says. \u201cI\u2019m not sure why teachers keep getting brought in when they don\u2019t really want us on this planet.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nThe door to the meeting room opens and Mr. Scanlon steps in, holding several sheaves of papers. He passes each packet out.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWe\u2019ve hired an emyst<\/em> with a Tyulti driver for the three of you. We’ve paid him cash in advance to take you to Off-world Departures at the spaceport.\u201d Linda shuffles through the stack of documents as he continues speaking. \u201cThis is what we can offer for now, without really having a full understanding of what is going on with the Tyulti government. Thanks for your patience, I wish you all the best on your way home.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nLinda and her companions return their locker keys downstairs at security to collect their belongings. Linda keeps swallowing in an attempt to control the nausea that\u2019s been slowly rising from her gut. A Tyult staff member escorts them to the emyst <\/em>waiting at a side gate, labeled \u201cSTAFF EXIT.\u201d The gate rumbles open and deposits Linda, Raia, and Clement on the sidewalk, where a grumpy driver with patchy fur waits for them. Raia jumps in the front, while Clement and Linda slide into the back seats. Linda cracks her window a fraction, trying to breathe. She didn\u2019t know she could feel panic at the same time as relief.\n<\/p>\n \nAlmost there, almost there, she repeats to herself all the way to the airport. In the stack of papers on her lap is the thin booklet serving as her emergency passport and her original identity documents. Tucked inside the travel document is a printout for the next Earth departure\u2014a ticket to Beijing, departing four hours later. Linda jams all the papers into her satchel. Her fingers tremble with nothing to hold on to.\n<\/p>\n \nAt the Spaceport, the check-in procedure is a noisy blur. A buzzing fills her ears. She imitates Clement and Raia going through the document checks. Nausea surges as she receives a boarding pass from the customer service agent. Clenching her teeth and breathing in through her nose, she approaches a sign with an arrow showing in Tyulti script and several other languages \u201cPASSPORT CONTROL.\u201d Clement and Raia stop next to her. They exchange worried glances.\n<\/p>\n \nIt’s going to be fine. I can do this. We\u2019ll all be fine. We wouldn\u2019t have gotten this far if it weren\u2019t fine.\n<\/p>\n \nThe nausea fades, and Linda takes one step forward.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cLet me go first,\u201d she says. \u201cIf anything goes wrong, pretend you need the toilet or something.\u201d Raia gestures her ahead with a flourish. Linda joins the line ahead of them, ignoring the stomach cramps which have returned like a punch to her gut.\n<\/p>\n \nLet me be done with this, let me be done with this, let me be done with this.\n<\/p>\n \nWith her emergency passport and boarding pass in hand, she approaches the next empty booth and sets her documents on the counter. She draws in a breath, prepared to spin a story about her sister, her only surviving relative, in hospital, alone, and penniless.\n<\/p>\n \nShe catches a movement out of the corner of her eye. Someone is at her left shoulder. It\u2019s Captain Roxgra. Linda\u2019s breath catches. The captain moves around the kiosk to stand next to the agent, speaking to her in Tyulti. The woman replies while entering a series of keystrokes on her terminal. Linda\u2019s hope fades, and she wonders what will happen if she vomits on a government official.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cDon\u2019t worry,\u201d the captain says and meets Linda\u2019s eyes without blinking. \u201cI told her to grant you an exit visa under my authority. Of course, we don\u2019t want trouble with the Earth authorities. Very clever of you to bend the rules with new documents.\u201d She picks up the thin booklet and waves it at Linda, then sets it back in front of the agent, who continues typing. \u201cThis is the second-best solution for us\u2014if you foreigners leave and don\u2019t come back. Please remember\u2014\u201d Captain Roxgra pauses. \u201cDon\u2019t. Come. Back.\u201d She pulls Linda\u2019s open passport in front of her and, removing a pen from a utility pocket on her shoulder, she scribbles on one of the pages before handing it back to the passport official, who examines the markings, then stamps them. The thunk vibrates down in the pit of nausea, but a kernel of hope soothes Linda\u2019s stomach.\n<\/p>\n \nThe agent slides Linda\u2019s documents back across the ledge, and Linda picks them up.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cHave a pleasant flight,\u201d Captain Roxgra says.\n<\/p>\n \nThe officer crosses to the next booth, where Raia stands, and Linda sees Raia freeze with her mouth open as Roxgra speaks quietly. Linda glances at Clement, in line behind Raia, then back at the open passage to the airside section of the spaceport.\n<\/p>\n \nLinda takes one last deep breath as she passes through the lane to the space-side of the terminal. It takes her some time to walk to her destination at the end of the terminal and she checks her boarding pass. She is hours early, the first passenger to arrive at gate eighteen under the sign reading \u201cEarth: Beijing.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nShe opens her passport with trembling hands. Still alone at the gate, there are no witnesses. The Earth consulate would never know if she disappeared here. Was that what happened to Steve?\n<\/p>\n \nShe doesn\u2019t notice the airport security officers approaching as she leafs through the pages. It\u2019s only when she is thrown down on the floor and cuffed, her face inches from the single stamped page, that she can read the captain\u2019s note. Underneath her exit stamp, she discerns the following words, written in English:\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI was bluffing.\u201d\n<\/p>\n S.L. Johnson grew up in Toledo, Ohio but emigrated to Turkey in the nineties. After several years in South Africa, she is now based in Sydney Australia, where she writes poetry and speculative fiction. She is a graduate of the 2023 Wayward Wormhole Workshop and her work has been featured in AntipodeanSF, Authora Australis, force\/fields, and other publications. Stephanie is an editor at Novel Slices and was a 2022 judge for NYC Midnight.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" The holding cell is well-used, but clean. Made for the native Tyulti population rather than the Earth-born, everything is wrong-sized for the group of human women that have arrived over the last few hours. Linda closes her eyes for a moment. Her stomach cramps again. The feeling subsides, and she checks out the cell. Most …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":107959,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3,20136],"tags":[20137],"class_list":["post-140340","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fiction","category-tcl-51-spring-2024","tag-the-colored-lens-51-spring-2024","entry entry-center"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/140340","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/107959"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=140340"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/140340\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":140341,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/140340\/revisions\/140341"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=140340"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=140340"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=140340"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
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