Samrat (whathesaid) wrote in whatprice, @ 2009-05-09 18:18:00 |
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Current music: | "On the Flip of a Coin" : The Streets |
"From the point he gazed from, the choice was made, but 'walk the cave or the shore?'"
Who: Phillip Hughes and Samrat Amarnath
What: A casual visit turns into a discussion of the danger that Phillip is in.
Where: Cambridge, England
When: Saturday, May 9
Rating: PG-13, language, some sexual references
Phil had taken an early train out to Brentwood to rent a motorbike for the weekend. He'd managed to hire a Yamaha XJR1300 for the weekend from the shop in Brentwood. While he'd considered one of the more high end faster bikes, he reckoned Sam would have his head if he had to sit on the back of a crotch rocket for the ride to Liverpool. Hiring it for the weekend, just in case, Phillip drove up in the direction of Cambridge, taking side roads and staying off the motorway. It felt good just to be on a motorbike again. He pulled up outside the pub around half past eight and parked the bike, pulling out some digestives he'd picked up for the ride. A proper meal would be in order at some point, but getting moved to London had made him a bit uneasy.
Sam was already inside, nursing a bottle of seltzer and looking for
all the world like he'd gotten a mouthful of salt. He made a face at
Phil as the other man entered, then waved him over. He wasn't sure
how he felt about the email - there was something at foot here,
especially if they were meeting in Cambridge for a trip to Liverpool.
It was more than a little out of the way.
"Interesting choice of location," he said as Phil came within earshot.
Phil ordered a seltzer as well and sat down next to Sam, waiting until
the bartender left before answering.
"I've been transferred. To London HQ," Phillip said quietly, taking
the paper napkin and folding it randomly.
"Ah." His expression went sour. "And what does this mean, do you
think?" He remained deliberately vague - it was something, after all,
that Phil had not been killed.
"That perhaps it is better to talk where one cannot be overheard,"
Phillip. "And that London is a very dangerous city."
"On the bright side," Samrat said. "We will be closer to one
another." He glanced down at his glass, then drained it. "Order
something. Make it two."
Phillip rolled his eyes.
"It's barely 9 o'clock in the morning. I am not going to start you
drinking this early on a Saturday morning. We can go for a drive and a
smoke."
"When you put it that way," he grinned. "Come then. What horrible
beast have you found?" He rose after throwing another note on the
bar. "You do have to explain to me more of what happened but I prefer
not to linger here." His eyes were following the shadows in the room
- some places did not change but rather, intensified their hatreds.
Sam was too old to long for a fight.
"Don't worry, I was mature, I didn't choose the shiny Ducati that
caught my eye," Phillip said, tossing a note of his own on top as well
and leading the way out to the bike. It was a compromise between the
shiny crotch rocket that the boy in Phillip longed for and a large
cruising bike. Tossing a helmet to Sam, he picked up the other one.
"Where to? I don't think your arse would survive the drive to Liverpool."
He caught the helmet and just held it, looking at Phil, then down at
the strap that fell across his hands. There was something about the
road that they were on that made him feel uncertain. Perhaps, Samrat
thought, it is the lies. His knuckles creased around the strap,
feeling it bite his fingers.
"What was this about, then, if we are not going to Liverpool?" The
question was spoken in a jesting tone, yet he made no move to don the
helmet.
"We can go to Liverpool, I just.." Phillip began as he sat down on the bike.
"I don't know if they're watching my emails or my phones. I figured it
seemed innocent enough to go to a match. Besides, it's the Newcastle
home game Monday I'm actually interested in. I figured we could just
drive somewhere safe.. nowhere really.. to talk."
He still hadn't moved. "Then you pick the place. I do not believe
that anywhere is safe."
Maybe Phillip shouldn't have picked this place to meet, but it was a
reference he didn't think anyone would catch. Other uni references had
seemed too obvious. It could be that this place had too many memories.
"What's wrong?" he asked. Everything about Sam's body language seemed
off and he wasn't sure putting the other man on a bike in that
condition was a good idea. "Out with it."
"Not here," he shook his head. "And not on that bloody bike." Sam
shoved the helmet back at Phil, feeling guilty and more than a little
disgusted at himself. He should have spoken earlier, told Phil the
truth, rather than pretending his own ignorance. "Let us walk. I
have no stomach for this conversation - getting on a bike will not
help that."
Phillip glanced at Sam worriedly before putting both helmets on the
bike and motioning for Sam to lead the way.
He did so, walking briskly down a small gravel path to lead them
towards the winding sidewalks that characterized the city. They were
well away from the pub and where they could be seen by anyone before
Sam spoke, still keeping up his quick pace.
"I lied to you, Phil," he said quietly. "I have known wizards - I
know wizards."
Phil kept pace with Sam, feeling sick to his stomach. No matter what,
no matter how ugly the truth had been, they had always spoken the
truth to each other. To learn that Sam had lied.. He shoved his hands
in the pockets of his worn leather biking jacket. He couldn't imagine
how Sam had felt when he'd told him everything. Actually, he could. It
had probably been exactly how Phil had felt listening to Adrian's
confession.
"Are you helping them or hunting them?" Phillip asked quietly, not
being able to ask why Sam had felt the need to lie.
"I am helping them." He stopped, closing his eyes and breathing
sharply. "Phillip, I... I blamed what happened to Hadiyyah and
Chandni on..." He could not say it, even if it was true. "Majd. And
Ghanem. They began it. And I complete the work."
Phillip put a reassuring arm around Sam.
"Please. Tell me."
It was a request, not a demand.
"Have you heard..." he whispered. "What happened to the wizards and
their ministry?"
Phillip shook his head no.
"I did not know they had a Ministry. I know little about them. Only
what I have learned and what they have told me. I do not know how much
is reliable. My main area is medicine - normal and now magical as
well."
"They-" He did not name which they. This was still too painful.
"Destroyed it. My wife - my daughter - Majd... they were
there. Majd was the only one to return and he was able to say
little."
Phillip's brain could supply an identity for the 'they'. Turning off
the path a way, he emptied the contents of his stomach into the
bushes. Crouching on the ground, he ran his hands through his hair.
"God, Sam, I.. I'm sorry. I didn't know. I never would have taken the
job if I had known. Sam, God."
He couldn't help feeling that he had their blood on his hands. Dear
little Hadi. Coughing, he felt like he was going to be sick again, but
there was nothing left in his stomach.
"Don't-" He pressed his hand against Phil's back. "You... I do not
know for sure that she was ever killed by them. There is at least
that much." Although the weight in his voice said that he believed
she was dead - what reason, after all, would MI7 have had to keep a
thirteen year-old girl alive?
"But I know they are capable of doing something like that. I know the
beginnings of what they are capable of and it makes me sick. They
would not care if they killed her or anyone else," Phillip said
tiredly before getting to his feet. There was the bitterness of why
had Majd survived and not Hadi. Phillip was a priest, but he was human
and occasionally jealous and bitter.
"How can I keep working for them?" Phillip asked. "I know, I know, my
life is at stake. You've said that before."
"I wish that I had that opportunity," he answered quietly. "To be
able to find out the answer to what really happened. That would be
worth much to me - to know for sure that she had died. Perhaps...
even to know where they buried her." And his head hung down in shame,
for he knew that he had gone too far in his grief. A grief that he
had believed lost.
If they buried her, Phillip thought with disgust.
"I will see what I can find out," Phillip said. Perhaps Meg could
help. But he owed Sam this much, at the very least.
"I never once cried for her," Sam said, staring into the tangled mess
of streets that sprawled out before them, stopping at the corner. "I
always felt that if I did, it would come true."
"I cannot promise anything, but I will do my best to find out
everything I can," Phillip said adamantly.
"I am not sure how safe it'll be for me to be in touch with you."
"Do not say that," there was desperation in his voice. "Of all that
you must say, not that."
Phillip gripped Sam by the arms.
"I am not losing you and you are not going to lose me. But there's
been a security shakeup. They've moved me to London. They've
questioned all of us. I'm sure I'm being watched, but I don't know for
certain. It is best for me to act normal, but I worry about how. I do
not want them to know where you live. "
Phillip smirked.
"You could always start coming to church, although that too might be
suspicious. Although we atheists who come just for the choir."
"Would it bother you if I did come?" Sam asked, his hands reaching
out to steady Phil as well. "For if that is what I need, then it
would be nothing." He sighed. "I no longer pray to Allah - what harm
can sitting in another church do?"
Phillip chuckled.
"Not because you need it, but because there are many various people
who come to church - it could be a way to see each other briefly on a
regular basis," Phillip explained.
He smiled. "Perhaps it would not hurt, regardless."
"I have done my best never to preach religion to you and I do not
intend to now," Phillip said firmly. "I am on call at the facilities
most nights during the week, so I don't know a guaranteed safe method
of communication. But if you ever need me, just email or call and say
you are in need of confession. My contract states I am allowed to
continue to fulfill my priestly duties. "
"Then we will do that." Sam sighed, then managed a smile. "Does this
mean that the bike, and the game are off? After all, perhaps it would
look suspicious if we did not go."
"We can still go. I need a long bikeride anyway. I had thought of
going to Newcastle after.. it's been some time since I've seen my
family," Phil said, kicking at the ground.
"I will not be at peace till I am rid of that place and those that are
being held are freed."
"How many are there?" he took his friend's arm and began to walk them
back towards the bike, managing a bit of a grin despite his worry.
"There are people... who would help. I could introduce you, perhaps."
"I don't know. There are various facilities. Everything is being
shuffled about now," Phil said with a sigh as he let Sam lead him.
"I don't want to endanger anyone else, Sam.."
"Think about it. You are not the only one who is in danger."
Phillip frowned. He thought about Sam's words.
"I should not go home. To my parents. Not without an occasion. I must
pretend everything is as it was," Phillip explained, trying to
reassure himself and hoping they wouldn't go after his brother's
children.
"I am willing to work with others as long as they are fully aware of
the risks. Not too many, though. It must be discrete. I cannot
suddenly change my routine now."
He sighed. "That is not what I meant, Phillip - what I meant is that
there are others who are risking their lives for people like the ones
you want to escape. People who would be willing to help should you
wish to do the same."
"I do, you have my word," Phillip said firmly.
How much could he say? He thought back to the conversation with Kate
and again, Sam felt the pang. He fought it back, then said,
"Hermione. She knows people - I have met a few of them and in fact, I
work with one. Bill. He and I have made a living of moving wizards
out of the country."
Phil fought back the pangs of hurt of more things that he had not been
told. How much did he even know about Sam now?
"I saw her last night," Phillip commented. "A friend took me to the
Star Trek film with her. Meg, the one from the book signing. Hermione
was there with a friend. Some blond bloke. A doctor who was a Chelsea
supporter."
He paused and raised an eyebrow.
"Have you talked wiht her?"
"About?"
"About whether you should become Catholic. About fancying her, you
dolt," Phillip said rolling his eye.
"Yes." The noise that followed indicated that Sam did not consider it
a successful meeting.
"Out with it. What happened?" Phillip said, his tone indicating that
he would badger Sam until he got the truth.
"Nothing," he sighed. "She said that she was not ready. I said that
I was not pressuring her and that is where it ended." His eyes
regarded Phil miserably for a moment before he added, "She has lost
her husband. I am not sure that she ever will be ready."
"But she did not say no completely," Phil pointed out. "That is good.
And now she knows how you feel, should she change her mind. "
"Yes, but I cannot help but feel that I asked too soon." Another sigh
braced the end of the sentence.
"For my part, I am sorry if I pushed you into speaking your mind too
soon. But now you don't have to worry about it," Phillip said putting
an arm around Sam.
"It will work out. Don't worry."
"You could not push me into doing something I did not want to do." He
managed a crooked grin. "I was tired of hiding my feelings on the
matter. It was becoming awkward, I felt."
"You underestimate my powers of persuasion," Phil teased.
"And now? Will it still be awkward?" Phillip asked.
"Perhaps you should plead my case then," Samrat answered, amused. "As
for now? I do not know. I think not. Perhaps now that I have
spoken, I can move on with the rest of it with a lighter heart." He
laughed before adding, "Majd would have me marry a second time, you
realize, now that it has been over a year."
"Yes, but it is you who have to live with the woman, so it should be
your choice if and when you decide to remarry," Phillip said, deciding
it was better to refrain from commenting on his ability to persuade
Hermione.
"Believe me, I have had enough of arranged marriages. If he would
like one, he can arrange his own." From the tone of voice, it was
obvious that Sam did not think highly of Majd's suggestion. "He seems
to believe that his own wife's death enables him to plead away from
obligation because of grief - I feel that he does it because he would
like to be a martyr." The two brothers had never gotten along well -
Ghanem's death had been a faint bridge but it was one that was
crumbling.
"Martyrdom is too oft romanticised," Phillip said in all seriousness.
"Although if he is truly looking for a wife, I'm sure my mother could
always find someone."
"Perhaps I should have her matchmake for me," he teased. "If only you
had sisters, Phillip."
Phillip chuckled.
"Then my mother would love you even more. Though one could say the
same about you. Perhaps if you'd have introduced me to the right
female relative early on, I would not have ended up married to the
church."
"Those elephant hips," Sam said, "They will get you every time." His
laugh echoed across the green as they moved closer to the bike. "But
you do not mean that, not truly." His eyes were light, amused as
thoughts of the small girl that Phillip had shown up at the signing
with popped into his mind.
Phillip stopped, staring out across the green.
"Yes and no. It was easier on some ways, having your family be mine.
Being the uncle instead of the father. Being able to through myself
into my work. But the Church is a jealous bride. More jealous or upset
than Chandni ever was, I think. But now, I don't know. I'll be forty
this year and it's hard, knowing you've already lost a daughter and
watching my brother with his children and knowing it won't be me. It's
a struggle, it's always a struggle, but it was a choice. However, it's
never stopped me from falling in love. It would have been different if
I'd gotten married - my parents preferred that - things would be
different. I would have had my own wife and family and probably
wouldn't have been able to go to India with you all the time. "
"And we wouldn't be as close." He said as they walked, listening to
the sound of their footsteps, still in unison even after the year that
had passed. "Are you saying that you fall in love, even with the
Church at your back?"
"It's been known to happen. Celibacy does not mean I am devoid of emotions."
"What do you do about it?" Sam looked at him curiously. "Islam does
not allow masturbation - is the Catholic church more amenable?" As a
doctor and with his best friend, he felt nothing against asking the
question. It was ridiculous to pretend that he himself never had.
Phillip coughed.
"Officially know. Sexual acts should be only for procreation. Anything
else is discourged and well, somewhat prohibited. However, there are
places where I believe the church has not interpreted the law
correctly. Anything can be a problem, even masturbation. But in and of
itself, I don't see anything wrong with it. Besides, I think it would
be worse for a priest to be walking around with a stiffy than to go to
the loo and take care of it."
"You do always hear about..." He stopped, shaking his head. "Never
mind - I am quite sure that you have had to answer that
question enough." Sam's mouth quirked. "I did not need the image
that you just gave me."
"I don't find the repression of sexual desire to be useful in any way
shape of form. I reckon it only causes more problems. Celibacy is
definitely not for everyone, but for some people it does work. It is
not a decision to be undertaken lightly though," Phil added.
"You're the one who asked."
"Then why does the church ask it? Can you not serve God if you love man?"
"Same sex relations are prohibited by the church and deemed to be
unnatural and leading to sin and damnation."
Phillip repeated the words in a voice devoid of emotions.
"It's a load of bollocks if you ask me. But celibacy is prized above
all else. The Church is a human institution, as such, She is not
perfect, neither are her laws. "
"I meant that in the general sense, you bloody eejit." Sam reached
out and lightly smacked the top of Phil's head. "Not as an
alternative."
"Sorry. It's one of the the things I disagree with," Phillip said with
a shrug, ducking away from Sam. "The church thinks giving yourself
completely to God and the Church - heart, mind, body, and soul is the
greatest gift possible. One can love others and serve the Church - we
are called to love humankind after all, but to marry another precludes
you from certain church ministries."
"But not others?" Sam shrugged. They were almost to the bike and he
suspected that was a good thing. He knew that Phil would only last
through his questioning for so long. Shifting subjects, he asked
instead, "That girl that I saw you with - is she a friend?"
"You can be ordained to Deacon as a married man," Phillip explained.
"Meg? Yes, she's the one who dragged me out to the cinema last night.
She had met a friend at that book signing - Gus. And Hermione was
there too. Though Hermione left in the middle of the film. Don't know
why."
Sam looked a little disconcerted at what Phil said. It sounded like
what Englishmen called a "double date." "Interesting. What film was
it? What happened?"
Phil stared at Sam for a moment.
"Don't interesting me. I owed Meg something since I ran out on her
once I ran into you at the book signing. Apparently Gus was organizing
a group of friends to go see the film - Star Trek. I don't know what
happened. All I know is that partway through the film, she got up and
left."
"Sorry, it simply seems a bit - I would have liked to have been
there." Sam wasn't going to fill in the blanks. Phil could examine
his statements or not if he chose. "That still seems a bit odd that
she would simply leave and not like her in the least. Was it
something in the film?"
"Well, next time Meg drags me to something, I will be sure to take you
along and you can make sure I behave properly. Gus brought up that
article I published last year of all things. Who knew anyone actually
read those medical journals," Phillip teased.
"I don't know why she left. Are you alright? I didn't know she was
going to be there."
"Fine." He shook his head, scowling. "I am just being a fool." His
arms folded as they walked. "And I remember those medical journals -
I've followed you through them for the past year. If I was afraid to
speak to you, I had your work, at least."
"You are not being a fool. But I assure you neither I, nor Gus, nor
Meg put any moves on Hermione. She is safe for your advances," Phillip
teased.
"That article got me recruited by my current job."
Sam just scowled harder at the teasing words. Then he shook his head.
"Well, it was a good article. And I believe that perhaps - wait, do
you believe now that there was truth in what you saw?"
"I believed it then, I just had no idea the depth of knowledge that
was hiding in Britain itself. Or what would happen," Phillip
explained.
"Sorry, I'll leave off."
"No, I want to hear about it." They were back to where they had
begun. "I had never thought about it before I read what you'd written
but... do you believe that this magic exists in India? Do you think
that they might find succor there?" Though India would make
Britain pay. It might be, however, that the payment is worth whatever
that country could give.
"I believe that magic exists everywhere in some form or other. What I
studied in Brazil, it wasn't much like the things I've studied here.
There .. it is also tied into faith and the more primitive cultures.
It seems.. less violent there.." Phillip said quietly.
"I would not have thought it so." Sam considered it, then asked, "Why
do you think it is that these wizards are trying only to deal with it
themselves?"
"Because we are experimenting on them and trying to kill them?"
The words were more cynical than normal.
"It seems that magic and isolationism or secrecy go hand in hand. In
Brazil, it was far away from the populated towns, in the far reaches
of the jungle, that's where the magic was. And the elders did not take
kindly to intruders, even though I was offering medical aid. They did
not trust me or it. Said it was from the devil."
"What I meant was, why are they not looking to other countries? Do
you believe it is possible that they do not know that those places
exist?"
"I don't know," Phil said. "I don't really know much."
"I wonder. I have worked with many of them and I do have a deep
respect for several but there are some..." Sam shuddered, thinking of
Sally and her crew. "That belong elsewhere."
"I'm not sure I follow," Phil said in confusion.
"You talk of experimenting on them - some of them have done as much on
us. Practice."
"I didn't know. There's so little I know, Sam.. I just know we keep
them like rats in a cage and do horrible things to them..."
"I am just saying," and it was cold comfort but it was something.
"That there is never just one side to a story."
"Very true."
"Enough of this talk. You have a bike, there is an open road waiting
for us." Sam reached down and picked up the helmet that he had set
down earlier, fastening it tightly. "Liverpool?"
"Liverpool."