Unsheltered by Clare Moleta (spiritual books to read TXT) 📕

Deep south though. It’s too far, too hard to get there.

Everywhere’s hard.

Not that hard. You know how bad the howlers get offshore? Even if they made it to the range and then across the range and then all the way round the XB to the east coast, how’s a bunch of kids going to pay their way onto a boat that’ll handle those seas?

That made sense. Everyone knew about ballot ships going missing on the long haul across the oceans to wherever the Front was now. And, here, the refugee problem had gone away years ago. The boats just stopped arriving.

Inshallah, they’ll just let them on, someone said.

Yeah, and maybe Allah will carry them over the range in the dead of the cold season and fly them to the islands. Those kids aren’t going anywhere the rest of us can’t go.

The Agency office in Valiant registered new claims on Saturdays. Li had to work so Frank took Matti. The first Saturday, they had left in the dark and came back in the dark. Matti was holding a piece of paper tightly, swaying on her feet.

I played with some kids, she said, and there was a fight and soldiers took some men away and we got this ticket, so when we go next time we can start from there.

Frank met her eyes over Matti’s head.

Matti said, When it’s our turn, we’re going to pick the Best Place. Aren’t we, Dad?

Later, in bed, her told her, There was a woman with three kids in front of us. She said once you get pre-registered, you can nominate a preferred destination.

Bullshit. Sheltered isn’t a choice, it’s geography.

You know that’s not true, not always. People get in. Anyway, I’m not even talking about the XB now. He half sat up to explain it right. That woman, she has a cousin who was a horticulturalist. He got status for one of the Deep Islands eight years ago. There’s no ballot there, Li. I mean, officially, yeah, but she said government hasn’t enforced it in years. The islands are just too small, too scattered, too far off the mainland. He waited for that to sink in. There’s good growing land too. She reckons their water comes from aquifers and they never sold it off. Her cousin thinks they’re going to open up quota again, but very specific, mostly food security. If she can get pre-registered, he’ll sponsor her and her kids. She said maybe he could help us too.

Why do you think people will help us? Why do you still think that? She lined up the evidence against him. The way government kept Nerredin’s water supply at a trickle while the town slowly dried up. How no one sent aid after the howlers or the fire. The trucks that passed them without stopping, day and night, on the highway to Valiant. West was dying and it was being left to die. One day government would declare the whole state a sacrifice zone and the XB precincts were tensing for it, but Frank still talked like someone, somewhere was going to do the right thing.

He was quiet for a while, lying with his back to her. Angry, or maybe asleep. He had to be up at four. Then he said, What do you want us to do, Li? What’s your plan?

Winning the lottery isn’t a plan.

You think I don’t know they’re afraid of us? She could hear how tired he was, how battered. They’re afraid if they let us in they’ll become us. I know. I don’t know what else to do. I don’t want Matti running from Weather her whole life. I don’t want her to get shipped off to Wars. I want her to believe people will help, and not be wrong about that. He rolled over to face her. What we can do except get in the system and wait for our turn? But if everyone else is trying for on of the precincts, maybe we can get to the Deep Islands instead. If they need agricultural workers, why not us?

He was wrong, he was wrong. But she listened to him in the dark and loved him for believing in a place where water flowed out of the rocks and children didn’t go to war, believing they could make it real for Matti. For believing in the future.

Okay, she said. Why not us?

The operator had set up on the road through Tarnackie. The bold print on Li’s map had suggested a truckstop and a general store, farming supplies, a pub. It was mid-morning when she walked in. At first it looked like another ghost town, but when she got past the Wars memorial she saw four crates, all occupied, near the skeleton of the old phone box. More people straggled along the roadside, waiting their turn.

Company had given up maintaining pay phones outside the cities four or five years ago, but the boxes still caught the eye, still signalled communication. It was a smart place for an operator to set up trade.

Li went closer to see what was on offer. The operator was a young woman with a folder of Cnekt cards clipped to her belt: solid build, safety glasses sitting on top of her dreadlocks. She was red-dusted and looked like she hadn’t slept inside in a while, same as her customers.

A mini satellite dish and solar-powered battery pack were set up on a folding card table. Four handheld sat phones, all in use. That meant she could patch, or she worked with someone who could, and she had good access to tech. The whole set-up was lightweight, portable, well put together. Li couldn’t figure how a sole female operator had managed to keep it this long.

She scanned the street for backup. A feral-looking young guy sat on the porch of the boarded-up feed supply store, lazily watching the queue. One guy. She wondered if there were others round the back.

The