The Debt Collectors War

Chapter 19

Finally, with their visas issued, they all went back across the compound towards the operations centre.

There was a market of sorts in an open space near the gate, where local people sold souvenirs and drugs and non-standard packaged foods. Markets like this usually appeared wherever foreign personnel were stationed, and always had, and always would. It was just part of being at war.

They had walked through the market on the way to the American visa office, but now, walking back, Sameh stopped to look. One stall had books, actual paper ones, spread out on a rug on the ground. Sameh paused, thoughtfully, and then poked at a few with her boot.

She seemed tempted. She liked souvenirs, and was always intrigued by antiques. She looked at the vendor, who was watching her with impassive blue eyes.

“May I?” Sameh said to him.

Sameh was usually polite to new civilian locals, at least until they collectively annoyed her. Ellie half-assumed that was mostly to make herself feel like she’d tried, so that later, when something went wrong, she could feel like she’d been reasonable, and that therefore whoever was irritating her must be entirely at fault. Like the entire population of the MidEast.

Sameh asked, politely, and the vendor nodded, so Sameh bent down, reaching out for a book.

“I wouldn’t,” Jackson said quickly. He had been watching nervously.

Sameh looked up at him.

“They’re filthy,” Jackson said, sound shocked. “Look at the stamps, those are from a public library.”

Ellie wanted to grin. So said the man who ate food out the actual ground. It turned out Jackson was squeamish after all. Sameh had noticed too, and was trying not to smile, although it probably wasn’t obvious to anyone who didn’t know her very well.

“Thank you for your concern,” Sameh said politely. “I understand.”

“Do you? They’ve been touched by hundreds of strangers.”

“Yes,” Sameh said, gravely.

“Hundreds,” Jackson said. “For years and years. They aren’t safe to touch. They could have anything on them. If you want one, tell him which, and I’ll arrange for it to be sanitized and delivered to you.”

Sameh nodded to Jackson, and kept looking at the books, but now she seemed to have thought better of the idea. She didn’t pick anything up.

Ellie began to get impatient. She knew Sameh was intrigued by antiques, but such curiosities were everywhere. Sameh could buy such things from a proper shop on the internet, properly cleaned and sealed for display. She could probably even buy something sourced from the particular local library near here, if she especially wanted that. Antiques had become almost worthless once all the public institutions had closed down, so their only real value now was as mementos, like a rock or a used bullet.

“Come on,” Ellie said, after a moment. “We should go and try and sleep.”

Sameh kept looking at the books. “I slept.”

“On a plane?” Ellie said, disbelieving.

Sameh shrugged.

“No you didn’t,” Ellie said. “You never sleep when you fly.”

“I might have…”

“You didn’t. So come on.”

Sameh hesitated a moment longer, then grinned, and followed Ellie. They would rest, at least, Ellie thought, and try for a few hours sleep before the operation began.