Gema's house looked different right off the bat. His neighbours were abandoned houses, desolate and grim. Her eyes caught the tall bed of grass inside one of the empty house's gates moved staggeringly without wind. Cats playing beneath the blades, probably. She wouldn't think any other way. She avoided staring through the window glass, lest catching something she couldn't forget.
The early darkness that fell down upon her skin left cold sweat in its wake. She knew the street lights were still on. But seeing only one house's streetlight was alight on a long street without end seemed jarring.
"Hey!" The man of the house greeted them. Gema with a pair of jeans and a Star Wars tee led them inside.
"It's finished cooking. You're free to eat now or wait for Val later. He's on the bus. ETA twenty mins."
"That's alright. We'll wait. By the way, Gem, this is Mark Zuhair, you've met him before, online. Mark, this is Gemarianto Husnaini. Gema."
"Nice to meet you finally, offline," Mark smiled.
Both men shook hands and Gema's raised single eyebrow at Stephanie didn't go unnoticed by her.
"A slow day in the supply depot?" Gema asked while inviting them in.
Mark and Stephanie left their shoes next to the door. Gema's house smelled a mixture of savoury delicacy and a waft of pear jasmine aromatherapy. Stephanie noticed a bottle of reed diffuser sat prettily on the coffee table. They followed Gema like ducklings to the living room, where a dining table surrounded by four chairs. Stephanie wanted to say something, but she caught herself before being nosy.
"Sort of tagging along with her today. She said it's okay," Mark sounded unsure and defensive at the same time.
Interesting, she thought. What made him feel this way?
Stephanie stole a glance at Gema.
This time, a flash of disappointment quickly followed, a subtle one she could have missed had she not paid attention to what she looked for. What was happening to Gema? Not the first time when Mark was mentioned or around.
Gema let out a chortle while taking two glasses from the rack for his guests. "Companions can be lonely, too. We need constant friends, because sometimes I, too, can't bear her presence," he jibed with a wink.
Stephanie groaned. "Oh, c'mon. Playing dirty, aren't you? Bet you've got a list to mock me in front of our new friend."
"But have you seriously considered to be a Companion?" Gema asked wholeheartedly.
"I mean, I recruited a lot of Companions, and some of this hiring process actually put us, Prattle and the other Companionship companies as head-to-head competitors with the Department of Commerce and the rest of the Council. Because of work force supply issue. Now, most of the recruits said they felt the forced isolation could silently kill people, and they're called to be a friend. What about you?"
Stephanie tsked. "Gem, he's not here to be interviewed," she added jokingly, but wary churned in her heart.
Mark stood awkwardly. "That's . . . fine, I guess. I'm . . . I'm still figuring out what to do in my life."
This honest answer still aggravated Gema somehow. He continued, "Must be amazing to come out to the world in this era."
"Gem," Stephanie glowered. What did he eat to become so hostile with Mark?
But Gema smiled coldly before focusing his attention back to the stove. He was warming up a pan of fried rice.
"Sorry, my glass is empty." He used to joke around that Stephanie had her glass full while Val's was half-empty.
~*~
Wholehearted laughs echoed across the room when Val arrived. They gathered and sat around the checker-patterned tablecloth. Gema scooped up the rice from the wok to a casserole dish and placed it in the centre of the table. Fried eggs with green chilli sauce sat prettily as the side dish. The delicious steam wafted up with a yummy aroma that undoubtedly made some of them groan with hunger.
"Feeling peckish," she fixed her stare at the reddish-brown grains calling her name.
"Let's say grace first, whatever your faith is," Gema said.
"May I hold your hands?" asked Mark to Stephanie and Val who sat in his left and right.
Both friends beamed. Gema who practised humanism threw a curious glance towards Mark, Stephanie's hand, then to Mark again before joining the gesture, so all four of them created a closed circle.
They ate in a hushed yet friendly tone of humour and banters. Soon, the topic changed into a more serious undertone.
"About the idea of living independently and divorce for the abused spouses . . .," Gema opened. "More articles popped up about the real happiness that people felt."
The corner of Stephanie's lips curled up, a meaningful glance exchanged with Val.
"Told you, the Happiness Index is the vaguest metric they imposed upon companionship," he sighed. Stephanie noticed he sagged his shoulders a lot, although she knew full well his schedule wasn't packed earlier. "But the thing is, we don't know how to support the spouses once they're at the safe houses."
"If only all the unclaimed money in the world could be used for more practical purposes—", Gema piped in.
"Unclaimed?" Stephanie's curiosity piqued.
"People without heirs, dead companies, and such. With three-quarters gone, it's not a rarity to find many accounts are just collecting cobwebs in the database," Gema explained. He scooped up more fried rice to his sister, who just came from upstairs. Stephanie rarely interacted with her these times, only showing cordial smiles. She was shy of her brother's friends, so after pleasantries, she went back to her room.
"She helped me with our parents' and relatives' bank accounts. We don't have cousins, nephews, or nieces left. In all honesty, I can't just leave money apart from my parents' untouched in the bank, can I?"
"But why do you need a lot of money for?" Mark, who kept silent so far, busying himself with the food, threw a question.
Gema eyed the ceiling, "It's not just about the amount. It's the principle to claim someone's right. Even if we can't withdraw it, it still belongs to our family. Leaving it unclaimed is the same as leaving free money unattended on the table. I don't want a random person to grab it."
Val added, "Also, it might be useful for you guys in the future. For rainy weather, you know."
Stephanie pondered the discussion, tossing it around her brain. She wasn't as noble as them, and her actions of ransacking empty flats fit the description of 'a random person grabbing free money on the table' that Gema mentioned.
But if it's for the greater good—
Alas, how many times humanity has suffered from wars and famine because someone with power had the same framework in mind? For the greater good . . .
Can this world be run without sufferings?
Pak Maryono's son paid for her service while being MIA. His money was utilised because the owner was still alive. But what about millions of bank accounts left in the dust before time? Ghost in itself, that Stephanie frowned upon.
It felt like a new governor in the face of famine being reluctant to opening the granary for the suffering citizens because the key was left with the previous governor. They still had the power to break the gate down, but they wouldn't do it? For what? Ethics? But the greater good—
There she was again.
Since no one mentioned anything heavy anymore, they conversed lightly.
"It's the most delicious fried rice I've had in decades," Mark praised sincerely after his eyes showed the depth of his appreciation to the menu that night.
"Consider it a homecoming dinner," Gema said in earnest, his eyes volleyed between the three of his guests.
When the rice was finished and everyone sipped their iced tea contentedly, the topic shifted to Stephanie and Mark's visit to the safe house.
"I'm afraid we'll give them a respiratory illness if we consider the preparation is done. Some serious cleaning needed. Look, Mark even had to drive me on an inflatable boat. That bog was something else. Extraordinary."
She caught Val's gaze at her that he needed to say something. But Gema raised to start putting the plates and silverware to the kitchen sink, so all other guests followed.
Mark and Stephanie offered to wash the dishes even after Gema insisted that was okay and said washing up was the least of his problem now that he was over the moon to have his friends–old and new–eating together to bring happiness into his lonely household.
Val scooted closer and asked Mark if it was okay for him to borrow Stephanie for a quick talk.
Mark said okay, so Val and Stephanie walked to the back of the service area.
"What is it?" she asked patiently. If it was something related to the company, she would consider discussing it the next day.
Val took a deep breath and said, "If that's okay with you, I'd like to have my client relocate to the safe house the soonest. I'll arrange it with the Wellbeing people."
Stephanie met that request with a frowned face. "Something bad happened?"
His breathing became erratic and he clenched and unclenched his fists many times.
"Val," she urged gently. "You can always talk to me for anything. You're my friend."
"I slept with her," he jolted. His eyes focused on her soft face before closing forcefully as if he would be protected if he couldn't see the world.
"Wh- Who?" she asked soothingly.
"Aluna. The client that I told you that was abused by his husband."
Like a shock from a bucket of ice water being dumped on her head, the news travelled her spine, inducing chill.
"Oh, shit," she whispered. Her trembling hand moved to cover her mouth.
"Yeah, I'm in a chaotic situation now. All-hell-breaks-loose level. Her husband. . . what if he changed my record to be a Protected? I can't go outside anymore and nobody will believe me. Not with the quick response team who tested the suspects are all behind him. I don't know if he knows but a grave error like this won't stay beneath the lid for a long time. I said with—"
"Why, Val?" she demanded with rounded eyes and creased eyebrows.
"—all honesty to you that it only happened once. I never visited her anymore and told her it was a huge mistake because I'd crossed the line. But it happened, and something ominous awaits me if I just brush it off."
"The police . . ."
Val shook his head vigorously. "They won't do anything. Not with the choppers or drones or any surveillance. There are more pressing things such as keeping the Immune and Protected in line. But the husband, the husband will kill her, I'm afraid. I'm still unsure if he's gonna lay a finger on me because I heard the punishment for killing an Immune is heavier than a Protected. But that might only be applicable if I work for the government. I don't know, Steph, you might just as well kill me now before this matter gets more convoluted."
Stephanie shook her head several times as if to shake the reality she'd been assigned to. This wouldn't end well, she had a foreboding fear. But she had always been a Companion. Consider Val was her client now, he was in dire panic himself. Ok, she could do this, she could calm themselves down.
"Hey, hey!" The fear now seeped into her pores. Watching Val hysterical was never in her wildest dream but there he was, spilling truth that was threatening her to puke.
"Look," she continued, "we'll think about what's gonna happen, but let's move her first." The first plausible thinking was how to rectify an already stinking situation, a fight-or-flight response cowered in her triumphant logic.
That didn't remove the stress from Val's face. "Please don't ask her to wait until you sort it out for Lila."
Stephanie's mind ran a mile a minute. "No no no, with Lila I need to encourage her and think about more delicate matters such as financial support. Aluna can move first. Do you happen to know if we can arrange the moving crew anytime sooner?"
"That I'd need to confirm to Wellbeing team. I'd say that she needs help more urgently. Sometime next week, I hope."
Stephanie consoled him for a moment before both of them came back to the living room.
When she got ready to go home, she remembered the green chilli sauce.
"May I take some for home? This freezes well, I think? For Pak Maryono," she explained to Gema. She glimpsed at Mark and added, "My client. He is an elderly man, said he missed green chilli. Not found in his groceries."
Gema accorded enthusiastically. He provided her with a small plastic container into which she spooned the unserved sauce. After she finished, all three of them said thanks and good night to the lovely and amazing host.
Mark smiled sincerely. "Thank you for taking me to get to know your friends tonight. It's surprisingly nice and warm. To have dinner not in uniform or sitting on a bench under watchful eyes. I can never repay this. Thank you."
If what he said flared up all Stephanie's protective instinct, Mark didn't need to know. Let it be her little secret. Perhaps she would talk to Annisa about this. Perhaps she wouldn't.
Later that night, the memory of night well-spent with friends whisked away, the gravity of Val's sin hit her.