Chapter 2

Day 4

He had to wait until the next day. He spent the afternoon of the day they arrived inspecting the camp. As he did that, he saw that Murdock had gone to the small graveyard outside the wire. He stayed there for an hour and then went to the barracks. When Jahni went in there later he found Murdock on a cot, eyes closed, either asleep or pretending to be asleep. Jahni left him alone and went to do his workout for the day. Murdock only emerged at dinnertime and they shared that with the officers and men, so couldn't talk alone. After dinner, the men on exercises returned and Jahni saw Murdock go into the rec room and sit in a corner seat with a book. Leave me alone for now, that said. Jahni did, busied himself with his work.

Now the night was over and Jahni was eating his breakfast, still there after the men had come in and gone again, ready to prepare for an inspection parade. He lingered over his coffee and waited. Giving the men time, but waiting too. For Murdock.

The mess attendant had almost finished clearing away when Murdock arrived. He brought a coffee to the table and sat across from Jahni, who had kept some bread and pastries and dates aside.

"You want some hot food?" Jahni asked.

"Some eggs would be nice," Murdock said. "Sorry, I'm not used to the early rising any more. Went right back off after reveille."

"That's okay." Jahni called the mess attendant over and told him to cook up an omelette for Murdock.

"Well," Murdock said after they'd sat sipping coffee for a few minutes. "I suppose you're losing patience with me now. Starting to think I'm just here looking for a free desert vacation."

"Murdock, a man would have to be much crazier than you to want to come here for a vacation."

Murdock grinned. "Yeah. Well..." he paused at his food arrived, thanked the attendant, in Arabic and started eating. Jahni waited again, until Murdock put down his knife and fork on his empty plate.

"Where was I?" Murdock said.

"Talking about me losing patience with you, which I'm not. When you're ready you'll tell me."

"I'm ready. I've been having some... difficulties lately. Nothing too serious, but I've been bumping up the sessions with my shrink and he suggested I come out here."

"You still see a psychiatrist?"

"My sanity is a work in progress."

"Right... so, why here?"

"Because he thinks it's about here, what happened to me here, me and Frankie."

"That was a long time ago," Jahni said and grimaced. "Sorry, that was a stupid thing to say." He knew better than that.

"Some things time doesn't heal," Murdock said, serious, then giving a small smile again. "And thing is, back then, with all the excitement when we got back, the whole Stockwell thing going public, I never really dealt with it all. I didn't think I had to. I thought, I'd had a lot worse, this is like a bee sting in comparison, I can deal with it on my own. I was stupid. Mostly I didn't deal with it, I just repressed it, almost pretended it didn't happen."

He sighed and rubbed his eyes and when he opened them again the pain was back, haunting the depths.

"I focused on helping Frankie deal with it and I neglected to deal with my own shit." He paused looking at Jahni. "Can be that way, when you have someone who needs you to be the strong one. You can forget you need to take care of yourself too."

"We've got a couple of therapists on full time staff now," Jahni said, as if just passing on some interesting news, but of course, understanding what Murdock was saying to him. "Our job is stressful. They're... useful."

"That's good," Murdock said. He took a deep breath. "Okay, here's the deal. I have to go into that room. In the blockhouse, where it happened. I have to go in there and close the door and I have to be in there for as long as it takes."

"For as long as what takes?"

"For as long as it takes for me to find my way out again."

Jahni gave a weak smile. "You make it sound as if there's a maze in there."

"Maybe there is."

Jahni thought he understood. Part of Faris had never left the basement cell of the Security Police building and part of Murdock had never left that room in the blockhouse. Murdock had to go and find that part of himself and lead it back out.

"Do you want me to come in with you?"

"No. It has to be alone."

Jahni rubbed his forehead at that, "Um, Murdock, that makes me nervous."

"Kahil, I'm not going to hang myself if that's what you're worrying about."

"Well, I was sort of..."

"Don't. It's nothing like that. I wouldn't do that to you."

"Okay... I trust you. But I don't understand why you have to be alone. I can help you. Nothing you can do or say can upset me, I swear."

"Kahil, why do you think I came here alone? Face wanted to come with me. So did Frankie. But I need to be alone. I can cope with it. I'm strong enough now." He took a sip of his coffee, which must be nearly cold now. "That's not to say I won't appreciate you being around when I come back out."

"I'll be there," Jahni said instantly. He glanced at the clock. "Okay, I have to go inspect the men. Take about an hour, then I'll let you in there. Is that okay?"

"Sounds fine. And I want to watch you being all commandery."

Jahni couldn't help but laugh at that as Murdock slipped away from the serious demeanour back to the playful one. Remarkable to watch that transition. He could switch in an instant. Like changing a channel on the television from a drama to a comedy.

An hour and a half later, after he inspected the men on parade and then sent them about their tasks for the day, Jahni retrieved the blockhouse keys and led Murdock there. They stepped into the cool interior. The air smelled stale but not unpleasant, with a hint of cleaning materials. Bleach and soap. This must be the cleanest spot in the camp. Not even the cells, whose doors stood open now, retained any of the old smells, the smells of pain.

Murdock went straight for the right door, to the largest room in the blockhouse. He stood in the doorway, his breathing quickening; Jahni could hear it in the stillness. He put his hand on Murdock's shoulder, but didn't speak.

"Some bad things went down back then." Murdock's voice barely rose above a whisper. "Not just in here. Salim..."

The face came back to Jahni of the young engineer, who he'd barely known, only in passing as a fellow prisoner. And who'd died so senselessly. He lay in the graveyard outside the wire, beside many of Jahni's friends, one, Hoshel, who'd died that day, the others later.

"Right." Murdock straightened up and shook himself. He took off his baseball cap and handed it to Jahni. "Hold onto that for me, kid. See you on the flip side."

He stepped into the room, turned on the light and closed the door. The clang of the metal door echoed around the concrete building. Jahni stepped away from it.

"Good luck, Murdock. Good hunting."

He sat down, with his back against the wall, waiting. Murdock would need him when he came back out.

~~

The building site was quiet. The men had eaten their lunch and most were now snoozing in the midday sun. Far too hot to go back to work yet. Too hot even to play football or catch with the children. Madari and Karen were still awake, though sitting dozily in their chairs beside Drummond, who was fast asleep. Ritchie had eaten with them, but gone back to his tent to shelter from the fierce sun. The doctor was off in the local village and Madari hoped he'd got a decent meal too.

Drummond muttered suddenly in his sleep, indistinct, but they definitely sounded like battlefield orders. Bennett looked at him then back at Madari from under her hat.

"Shame, with that big smile on his face I thought he was dreaming about Eshe."

"Eshe? Really?"

"Well, she's a widow. I'd put money on them being married a year from now."

"Don't be silly."

"What's silly about it?"

"Well for one thing she's under... I mean, she works for him."

Bennett grinned. "You were going to say 'under his command' weren't you?"

"Force of habit," Madari admitted. "But my point stands."

"They're not in the military, the no fraternisation rule doesn't apply like it does to, ooh, say you and me for example."

She was trying to make him blush, he knew. She always considered that a small victory. But he was wise to her now.

"Yes. That rule is the only thing that had prevented me from writing to your father to ask for your hand in marriage."

She chuckled, apparently liking that even more. "So you want me to join your harem, eh?"

"Oh, my dear, if only I could afford a harem."

They soaked in the sun for a while, before Karen spoke again.

"Were you ever married, sir?"

"Yes. A long time ago. We divorced." His tone made it clear he wanted no follow up questions. She had some latitude, but there were limits. He glanced at her. "Were you? Or engaged or..."

"No," she said with a mock sigh. "I'm just an old maid. An Army old maid."

"Well, sometimes it's best for an officer to be without ties. Especially one who likes to apply for overseas postings like you."

"Good point. And you're right, it's probably better for my career. But sometimes I think it could be nice to have someone who's... I don't know, an anchor. Someone to go back to. There's my parents of course, but that's not the same. Once you grow up and leave home, you're really only a guest when you go back. It's not really 'home' any more."

"No, I suppose not."

"I don't even have my own place. A house or flat I mean, back home. Seemed like a waste of money."

Madari had his house of course and he looked forward to returning to it, but when he thought about going home, the first thing he pictured was the barracks, his unit, Jahni.

"Save your money, Lieutenant."

"I have got a nice little stash in the bank," she said, grinning. "Be even more after we're done here."

There'd been little to spend money on of course. Their pay would have accumulated nicely. Though his share of the cost of building work would take out a large chunk of what Madari had earned in salary during these months.

They glanced over at the sound of children's voices to see the orphans coming out from having their lunch. Sisters and local women, their more colourful clothing contrasting with the sisters' white and grey habits, shepherded them to the field on the other side of the building, away from the building site and the snoozing workers. Once again, Kibibi left the group and ran to Madari and Bennett. She climbed on Madari's knee and hugged him before sitting down, leaning against him. She had no pictures or schoolwork to show him, just wanted to sit with him. He sighed and put his arm around her. The incident yesterday with her picture came back to him and he caught Bennett's eye, to see she once again had a serious expression.

"I'm going to go get some water," Bennett said, standing up. Clear signal there, Madari thought, watching her walking away. Giving him the opportunity to talk to the child, as he knew he had to.

"So, have you been having a good time here?" he asked Kibibi.

"I like school," she said. "And painting. And reading the books."

"That's good. I'm sure you'll do well at school. You're a clever girl. Your parents would be proud of you."

She didn't answer that, just played with the tasselled edge of his kuffiyah that hung loose around his neck.

"Are the sisters nice?"

"Yes. Sister Lucy plays the piano and we all sing."

"You like to sing," he said. It wasn't a question. Back at the lodge, she often sat in his office while he worked, drawing, or reading and sometimes singing. The sound of that didn't disturb him, but rather comforted him, while he read reports of the worst things men could do to each other. Her innocence gave him hope.

"Kibibi," he said, and paused, but found the courage to go on. "Do you know that I'll be going home soon? Going back to my own country. And so will Karen."

She nodded, but looked so sad he felt sure his heart was breaking.

"We'll both write to you and send photographs. And you have to promise to write to me. I want to see how well you're doing at learning your letters."

"I have to stay here," she said.

"Yes. The sisters will take good care of you. And Clive and Eshe will visit you."

"Will you visit?"

"If... one day, if I can. I live a very long way away, my dear."

"I don't want you to leave." Her eyes shone and he felt his own starting to get hot. "Why do you have to go?"

"I don't have a choice."

"I love you."

He couldn't speak and instead just hugged her tight. When he trusted his voice again he spoke.

"I love you too, my dear. I'll still love you even after I have to leave. You'll be in my heart all the time after I go."

"When are you going?"

"We'll leave here in a few days, but I won't go home for a few weeks yet, so I'll come and see you before I go, as much as I can."

"Okay." Her voice was very quiet. She'd started to cry, but wiped her sleeve across her eyes now and gave a weak smile.

"You're very brave," he said, smiling back at her. "Now you should go back and play with your friends."

She hugged him again and slid off his knee. He ruffled her hair and made her laugh, and laughed himself to see that joy on her face again. She ran off to rejoin the other children. Bennett was approaching, still looking serious and he knew she intended to ask him how the talk went.

It ripped my heart from my chest and stamped it into the dirt. Any other silly questions?

~~

Jahni snapped awake from a light doze when the cell door opened. He scrambled to his feet as Murdock emerged, his face pale, his eyes bloodshot and distracted. Jahni looked at his watch to see almost six hours had passed. Murdock glanced at the tray that lay on the floor beside Jahni, with an empty plate and coffee mug and a bottle of water.

"You stayed," he said, his voice hoarse and scratchy.

"I said I would." The furthest he'd been was the small toilet along the corridor. One of the mess attendants had arrived with a tray of food and drink at lunchtime, making no comment about the sounds coming from the cell.

Jahni had forced himself to sit through the yells of despair and rage, despite his urge to run in there and help his friend. Unable to sit idle through that, he'd paced up and down instead, trying to work out the tension.

It brought back feelings from so long ago, when Madari had started to keep him at a distance, to protect him, when their jailers would have targeted Jahni to hurt Madari if they'd understood what they felt for each other. Watching Madari suffer and being unable to help him had driven Jahni half-mad with frustration back then. Today those feelings felt so close again.

"Murdock, did you... find your way out?"

Murdock summoned up a weak smile.

"Guess I'm here, aren't I?"

"Do you want to talk?"

"Not yet. Just need some sunlight right now. Later."

"Okay." Jahni linked arms with him, earning a look of surprise, but Murdock didn't pull away. They stepped out of the dim and cool blockhouse into the glaring afternoon sunshine, the heat washing over them like warm water. Murdock stopped and tilted his face up to it, eyes closed, bathing in the sunlight.

He stayed that way for almost a minute then turned to Jahni, opening his eyes. "There's always light to step back into. However deep the darkness, the sun will rise eventually. Remember that."

"I will," Jahni said, though not certain why Murdock was telling him. He let Murdock's arm go.

"Do you want something to eat? You missed lunch."

"Think I'll just go and rest for a while, I'll join you all for dinner."

"Okay." He remembered he still had Murdock's cap and took it from his pocket to hand it back to him. Murdock placed it back on his head and gave a much more normal smile. As if he was putting the pieces of himself back together, Jahni thought. Murdock turned to go, but paused and looked back.

"Kahil. Thanks for staying there. I knew you would and it... made a difference to know you were there, if I needed you."

"Any time, Murdock."

~~

"I didn't think you were such a slow reader, Colonel."

Madari looked up from his book, to see Bennett holding out a mug of coffee to him. Dinner was cleared up now and Madari had settled down in front of his tent to read for a while. At least to open a book and pretend to read. Seems he hadn't fooled Bennett.

"You haven't turned a page for nearly fifteen minutes," she said.

Since she was carrying two tin mugs of coffee and wearing a speculative expression, Madari took the proffered mug and made a gesture for her to sit.

"Is it a dull book?" she said, sitting down.

"I doubt you think so, since you loaned it to me." He held it up.

"Oh, Ender's Game. Cool. Do you like it?"

"It's not the kind of thing I usually read, but yes, I like it."

"'There is no teacher but the enemy'," she quoted and he smiled at her.

"Ahmed used to say something quite similar." He sipped his coffee and looked at the orphanage building, framed against the setting sun. The light was fading rapidly and he'd have to light a lantern to read soon. "We've made excellent progress with the work."

"Should start getting the roof on tomorrow. And the glazer will be here for the windows. So, you talked to Kibibi then?"

Madari winced. "I've never enjoyed being ambushed, Lieutenant."

"Sorry, sir." She shrugged. "Just... we'll be finished soon and..."

"I talked to her. I explained."

"How did she take it?"

"She's a child, how do you think she took it?" His snappy tone made her look down and he regretted it at once. "I'm sorry, Karen, but... it was hard of course. I should never have let her get so attached to me. I shouldn't have become so attached to her."

"You're only human, sir. You can't help how you feel."

They sat in silence for a while, sipping their coffee. The sun dipped below the horizon and the sky darkened to an inky blue, a few early stars peeking through. The men were building up the campfire and settling down around it for the evening. Their voices and laughter drifted across on the still evening air that still carried the scent of coffee and their dinner.

"Perhaps you should take her home with you."

Madari stared at Bennett, sure he'd misheard her. "I'm sorry?"

"Kibibi. You could adopt her. You're a respectable guy, I'm sure they'd let you."

He hadn't misheard her, and he still stared.

"I'm a single man. I can't take care of a child."

"You could hire a nanny or something." Bennett shrugged. "Better than being here. More like having a real family."

Madari pictured himself arriving home with a small girl in tow, announcing to everyone that she was his adopted daughter. Installing her in his house, buying toys and children's clothes for her. Enrolling her in school. It was a vision both seductive and frightening. Being a father was something he hadn't thought about in a long time.

"I... don't think it would be right... she's a Catholic, mine is a Muslim country. I wouldn't know how..." Of course, Sophia was a Catholic and there was a Catholic school in Az-Ma'ir attended mostly by the children of foreign residents. "It's ridiculous," he said as much for his own benefit as Bennett's.

"I think you'd be a good dad."

"You do? Why?"

"You can be all stern, but you're a big softy too. Being a dad seems to be all about balancing those out."

"I'm sure there's more to it than that." He sighed. "Karen, are you seriously suggesting I adopt her?"

Bennett held his gaze for a moment, then smiled and shook her head.

"Naw, I'm just messing with you."

He snorted with impatience and put on the stern look. "I'm your commanding officer; kindly do not mess with me."

"Sorry," she said, grinning. "Made you think though, didn't it?"

It had. Even now, his mind was full of pictures of it. Imagining what Jahni or Sophia would make of his turning up with her. And the regiment... Well Rahama would probably adore her of course. He spoiled the children of his friends as much as he did his own grandchildren and great-nephews and nieces.

But it was ridiculous, he reminded himself again. She was a foreigner, a Catholic and... a girl.

"It pains me to say it, Karen, but my country, my region is not really the best place for girls to grow up. They don't have the opportunities that someone like you takes for granted. If I had a daughter of my own, I think I would probably send her to be educated in England or France."

"I thought your country wasn't one of the crazy ones... um, no offence."

"It's not," he said, smiling. "But still, opportunities for women are limited as much by attitude, even if the old laws are gone. It will be a long time before that changes."

Bennett sighed. "Even so... more opportunities than she'd have here."

"Perhaps. But look at Dr Elimu. He's from here and he became a doctor."

"He wasn't a penniless orphan though," she pointed out.

"True." He rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. "I don't know what the answer is, Karen. Yes, I could take Kibibi home with me, and give her a better life. But don't all the children here deserve the same?"

Bennett sighed too. "I know, I know. We didn't come here to rescue the whole country." She crossed her arms across her drawn up knees and rested her chin on them, looking gloomy.

"What we've done here, both our mission and rescuing the children from Sefu. And here, this building..." he waved a hand at the orphanage. "It makes a difference. Please, Karen," he rested a hand on her shoulder, surprised at himself and earning a glance from her, though not an objection. "Don't start to think that because we can't solve all of the problems that our work hasn't been worthwhile."

She tilted her head on the side, looking at him, his hand still on her shoulder.

"I try to keep reminding myself of that. Just when it's kids... it's so hard to be, you know... detached, like we're supposed to be."

"Like you said, we're only human."

"Yeah." She glanced at her watch. "Well, I have to go, I said I would tell the kids a story before they went to sleep and it's bedtime for the little ones." She gave a sheepish grin. "I know, not very detached of me." She stood up and as he moved his hand from her shoulder, she caught it and gave it a quick squeeze. "Thanks, sir. You done with your coffee mug?" He passed it to her.

"Thank you, Karen."

"Goodnight, sir. Enjoy the rest of the book." She smiled and gave him a casual salute, possibly the most relaxed salute he'd ever had, more like a wave. Still, he smiled and returned it, just as relaxed. So informal these Australians.

"Goodnight, Karen."

~~

Bennett walked to the orphanage building, using her flashlight as it was dark enough now for her to fall over and break her neck. Though with the nearby fire and lanterns and the lights from the orphanage itself it wasn't dark the way she was used to, back home in the outback. She missed that real darkness, thick as pitch on moonless nights. Stars spread on the sky like spatters of paint. And the sounds you heard out there! The land looked so barren under the glaring sun, but the darkness skittered with life.

"You think cracking on to the colonel will do you any good?" Ritchie. He was sitting on the porch at the front of the orphanage. "Trying to get yourself an especially good report to take home?"

"Shut up, Geoff," she said, scowling at him. She'd had to deal with this crap from day one in the Army. One or two of her commanding officers had even hinted that if she wanted faster promotions she could earn them with something easier than the hard work her male colleagues put in. She'd never taken that route. She certainly did not intend to try to take that route with Colonel Madari to get a better final report once the mission was over. She'd done her best here; she could do no more than that.

"Barking up the wrong tree anyway," Ritchie said, standing up, a smirk on his face. "I told you, Arabs are all poofters."

"Oh just piss off, Geoff."

His smirk changed to a scowl and she bit her lip, wishing she could take that back. A bit stronger than she usually gave out, but she'd had enough of this no-hoper.

"I could put you on report for insubordination."

"Go ahead; I'll be happy to explain to the colonel exactly what you said to make me get so insubordinate." Now she smirked as he glared at her, knowing he was beaten. She'd beaten him a long time ago.

What was his problem anyway? He had something against the colonel, which Bennett couldn't understand. Colonel Madari was a top bloke. His blood was worth bottling, as her dad said. Maybe Ritchie was just a racist. He certainly acted snotty around the men and the locals. What a dick.

"Excuse me, sir," she said and he slowly stepped aside to let her pass. She headed inside, but at the door, she looked back over her shoulder. "If you think he's a poofter, maybe you should try cracking on to him."

Ritchie snorted and muttered something, but she didn't wait around to hear it, heading inside. Ritchie had explained his theory about all Arabs being sexually messed up to her a few times. Because they didn't let the boys and girls mix, he said. Karen felt certain that Arab boys and Arab girls were as ingenious at finding ways around those rules as the Australian boys and girls she'd grown up with. Of course, there was that handsome friend of his, Kahil... not that she thought anything funny was actually going on, but they were obviously very close...

She put that out of her mind as she reached the children's dormitory.