The Gender Game by Bella Forrest (motivational novels .TXT) 📕

As Alastair returned to the white vehicle and the driver pulled away, back toward the safety of the city, I crossed the rope bridge and boarded the boat.

Other than the captain, who sat in the control cabin with her head buried in a newspaper, there was only one other person on board—an elderly woman wrapped in a woolen shawl near the back. I sat a few rows in front of her and gazed out of the window, my eyes scanning the dark, vaporous waters.

If only my brother could have boarded one of these, I couldn't help but think. If only he could have made it to Patrus and been accepted there… It would have been relatively easy to arrange clandestine visits with him if he’d resided just across the river—compared to not knowing his whereabouts at all.

I pulled my thoughts back to the present. Reality.

Focus.

"What's bringing you to Patrus?" The old lady behind me spoke up.

I twisted reluctantly to face her. "I'm, uh, moving there."

Her eyes bulged. "Are you really?"

"Yup." Really.

"Who's the man?" she asked.

"A scientist."

"What kind of scientist?" she asked, rising from her seat and moving to a row closer to me.

I wished that she would have stayed where she was. I wanted to sit in silence, mentally prepare for my arrival, not be hit with a barrage of questions. But I supposed that this would be good practice for me. A test run, to see how well I had memorized, and how naturally I could spout off, all the lies.

"I can't say, to be honest," I replied. "His work is high-level. He's not even allowed to tell me the details."

"I see," she murmured.

Then she fell quiet. Though I could practically hear her thoughts. Because the same thoughts ran through every Matrian's head whenever they came across a woman making the move to the other side.

Poor thing.

What a waste.

She'll never last.

She offered me a weak smile. "You must really love him."

Yeah…

I fixed my attention firmly out of the window to make it clear that I was done talking. When the ferry left the dock five minutes later, we were still the only two passengers. I watched the bank grow further and further away, until the mist became too dense for me to see it anymore. I stood up and walked to the opposite end of the boat. Being a warm night—or morning— it was unpleasantly stuffy inside. None of the windows could be opened, to prevent spray entering the boat. I had never touched the river water directly, but I had seen its effect on other people, and if you ingested too much, it could be fatal. I hoped my brother hadn't swallowed much when he fell into the river that night he'd been ripped from me.

The ferry sped up, forging its way through the mist. Due to its thickness, when Patrus' bank finally manifested, it came with little warning. I witnessed Patrus' dockland in clarity for the first time. Warm orange lights glittered along the lengthy wooden jetties, illuminating a myriad of boats that looked quite different from those you'd find in Matrus. Most of them appeared to have been constructed primarily with leisure in mind rather than mere functionality, with shiny, attractive exteriors, spanning several floors and complete with open rooftops protected by transparent shields. There was also a bay reserved exclusively for competitive rowboats—like my cousin Cad's.

Our ferry slotted into an empty bay and stopped. I let the elderly woman walk ahead of me, though she stopped to chat with the captain, leaving me to step out alone onto the empty jetty.

I breathed in, scenting the atmosphere as a gust of wind caught my hair. It was breezier on this side of the river.

I cast my eyes around, trying to find my bearings… and my host. Lee Bertrand. He was supposed to be waiting for me.

Clutching my suitcase, I moved away from the vessel. There was a road beyond the docks, and behind that was a towering wall, just like we had in Matrus. No overwhelming difference between the lands so far.

Lee had to be around here somewhere. I caught sight of shadows moving near the cargo ships, further along the shore. But I was apparently alone…

Then I spotted movement to my right and a man wearing a dark brown coat appeared from behind a lamp post. He sported a tartan cap that shaded his face.

I was hardly breathing as he closed the distance between us. The breeze carried his fragrance, sharp and citrusy, and stopping a couple of feet in front of me, he removed his cap, allowing the dock lights to illuminate his clean-shaven face.

"Ms. Bates." His voice was deep and low.

"Mr. Bertrand," I whispered, my grip tightening around the handle of my suitcase.

His narrow lips formed a smile that reached his eyes—eyes that were more blue than gray.

He looked younger in person and there was a slight boyishness to his features, which I found kind of comforting.

I reached out to shake his hand, but he instead closed his fingers around mine and held it gently.

"Let's go," he said beneath his breath. "We'll talk later."

He remained holding my hand as he reached across me to remove my suitcase from my grasp and carry it. He pulled me away from the river, toward the road. We reached the sidewalk and stopped in front of a black motorcycle that leaned against a lamp post.

He attached my suitcase to a holder at the back of it before lifting up the seat to reveal a hidden compartment which stored two helmets. He handed me one, which I proceeded to strap to my head while he did the same.

He pushed the seat back down. "After you," he said, patting it.

I straddled it, moving as far back along the seat as possible. Clutching the handles, he positioned himself in front of me. I felt embarrassed and uncomfortable to place my hands on his shoulders, but as he coaxed the engine to life, I had no