Chapter 5
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Two things could be assumed from the first page. Either this man, John, was more important than the clerk, or he was much more popular with the public. Sasha scanned the print from the front page to the last page of the newspaper. Among them was an article about Senator Boban, the man Sasha was supposed to keep an eye on. Leading Republican figures were fleeing the capital city of Nepiran for Victoria.
The newspaper editorialized that the Allies were running out of money, that they had abandoned the destroyed city after ten years without rebuilding it, that there were many people starving in the streets, and that if they had love and mercy for humanity, they should save the people who were persecuted and starved by the Allies with guns and swords as soon as possible. The story was chilling.
Sasha closed the newspaper and picked up her teacup. She felt her hands trembling slightly. Was there really a war? Was it true what people were saying, that the Allied nations were all running out of money, that they were the ones who had won the war and stopped the Dochen’s advance, but now they seemed so defeated?
No, that's not true. She shouldn't trust the information here. It was a place where scribes could twist and turn and lie about anything to suit their tastes. It was not to be assimilated. Perhaps the fine buildings of downtown Victoria, the manicured city, were all for show, and she would have to get out of town in the daylight to find out.
Sasha went to bed early so she could get to Senator Boban's office the next day, but even with clean sheets and a warm bed like she'd never had in her life, she couldn't sleep easily. It was a long, dark night.
****
As she was getting ready to leave early in the morning, Mrs. Darwin knocked on the door and said she had breakfast ready. Sasha walked down the stairs to the kitchen, where Mrs. Darwin had just poured a steaming cup of coffee.
"Good morning, Miss Schmidt, did you get a good night's sleep?"
"Yes. I slept soundly, thank you."
"I know it's nothing compared to what you had at home, but I'm sure it tastes good."
"No. It's just as good."
She meant it. Mr. and Mrs. Darwin seemed to assume that Sasha was the daughter of a wealthy family, but she wasn't. When she begged on the streets, she scavenged through garbage, and once she was in the hospital, she ate three meals a day of hard bread and stale soup. Hot coffee and fresh sandwiches were new to her. In retrospect, she had a very poor life.
Mrs. Darwin watched with satisfaction as Sasha eagerly bit into her sandwich, then returned to the sink to wash the empty plates her husband had left behind that early morning.
"Madam, do you happen to know where Senator Boban's office is?"
"Yes, it's quite close to here, do you see the clothing store over there?"
The lady pointed to the window in front of the sink. A large sign on the ground floor of the black brick house read, "Albert's Costume Shop.”
"Yes. I see it."
"It's the next building around the corner from that store. It's brown brick with arched windows."
A brown brick house with arched windows. Sasha repeated Mrs. Darwin's words a few times and muttered.
"Thank you."
The street was damp and cool, thanks to a light drizzle that had fallen just before dawn. Sasha tucked her keys into her purse and did as Mrs. Darwin had told her, turning through the dressing room and looking for the first building in sight.
True to her word, there was a brown brick house with white arched windows. There were numerous plaques at the entrance, including one that read, "The Office of Congressman Robert Boban.” The entrance was crowded with people on their way to work. Mostly men in bowler hats and briefcases, with a few middle-aged women, but no one Sasha's age.
She blended into the crowd and entered the building. There was also a bustle of people going up and down the spiral staircase, probably people who had gotten to work earlier than everyone else and were starting their day. She followed the crowd until she reached the third floor, where someone finally recognized her and spoke to her.
"Miss Schmidt?"
Sasha turned in the direction of the voice. A middle-aged man with thick horn-rimmed glasses was squinting at her, holding a thick filing cabinet.
"Yes."
When Sasha answered, he breathed a sigh of relief and nodded. It was a signal for her to come over.
"Thank goodness you're here on time. Come on in and I'll show you to your seat."
"Sure."
The man didn't offer a friendly greeting, or even a polite full name, just looked Sasha up and down over his reading glasses.
"You're twenty this year?"
"Yes."
"Where did you say you're from?"
"Nepiran."
"Ah. I see. There are so many beautiful women in Nepiran. Did you take the train to get here?"
"Yes."
Sasha tugged her handbag tighter, nervously. The man’s persistent questioning made her uneasy.
"It's a nice city, Nepiran. It's not bad here, of course, but it's boring and dull, and the people are a world apart. The people here are a bit dirty and lazy, to say the least, and no amount of flowering can hide their roots, which is where the barbaric Nerian blood comes from."
"Is that so? Where are you from?"
"Ah."
He replied, adjusting his reading glasses and tugging at the straps of his suspenders that barely held up his pants.
"My father was born in Nepiran, and my mother grew up in Nerea, but she's not Nerian, because she's more blonde than brown."
Sasha looked at his short, dark brown hair; his features were closer to native Nerean. Apparently he didn't have much of his father's blood.
"I went to Nepiran on my last vacation, all my relatives live there, and I'm sure you know that Senator Boban used to be from Nepiran, though he's here now for political reasons, but he's a very gracious man."
Sasha didn't argue with him anymore.
"Here you go, Miss Schmidt."
He pointed to the iron desk and chair directly in front of Senator Boban's office.
"The senator comes in at nine o'clock. Always arrive half an hour early and don't forget to clean the office. When you arrive, have black tea mixed with honey and milk for him, and if he rings the bell in his office, it's to summon his secretary, so get up immediately, knock twice, and go in."
"Yes."
"There's a telephone, typewriter, notepad, and a calendar with the senator's schedule. If you need anything else, buy it and submit the receipt. They'll authorize you to spend it."
"Yes."
The man made a brief bow and returned to his post. Each of the five desks and chairs facing Senator Boban's office were occupied, all but one. Sleeves were rolled up, papers were shuffled, and phone calls were made.
Sasha put down her purse and grabbed the typewriter and notepad in front of her. It occurred to her that she should probably buy a notebook and pen on her way home from work to take notes on Mr. Boban. It's a pretty sneaky thing to do with office equipment.
At nine o'clock, a man in a fine suit with a black bowler hat walked into the office. Sasha remembered seeing his picture before crossing the border. It was the only information Jared had given her.
"Hello, Senator."
He removed his bowler hat and swept a hand across his broad, balding forehead. It contrasted with his long, nicely trimmed beard. As if everything that should be up there was down his nose.
"Oh."
He turned to face Sasha.
"You must be my new assistant."
"Elga Schmidt. Senator."
He nodded and smiled approvingly.
"Good. Very good."
He repeated the word good over and over again, and when Sasha smiled faintly, he patted her cheek, a gesture like tapping the bridge of a favorite mare's nose.
"With that pretty hand of yours, I'd like a cup of tea, Miss Schmidt."
"Yes, Senator."
Sasha placed the black tea with honey and milk on a saucer and entered Boban's office, where he had just taken a puff on his pipe.
"Who did you inherit that fiery red hair from?"
From the Allied underground three days ago.
"It must have belonged to your mother, didn't it, and she must have been as beautiful as Miss Schmidt?"
Certainly, her mother was beautiful. Brown hair that shone brilliantly in the sun, mysterious emerald eyes, red lips. Sasha still remembered how her mother looked. Even the back of her head, kneeling in front of the pit, shaking all over, just before she died.
***
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