deck of the smaller compression platform. Lines of brightly coloured clothes flapped like a coalition of national flags across the sun-bleached deck. Amongst the laundry team she spotted Sophie Yun, the eldest of four Korean sisters. Sophie had told Jenny a couple of days ago that she and her sisters were moving off the large compression platform. She’d said the prayer meetings were now becoming too noisy and they were beginning to feel unwelcome amongst all the Latoc-faithful.
Jenny shook her head as she descended a third flight of steps down to the bottom of the module and onto the platform’s main deck. She winced with a stab of pain as her taut skin pulled under the dressings.
Segregation.
This is exactly what she’d hoped to avoid, border lines developing between a notion of Them and Us. Before too long, she was sure, it was no longer going to be known as the primary compression platform, instead ‘Latoc-Land’ or ‘New Jerusalem’, or something equally ridiculous.
Jenny cursed herself for letting the man stay in the first place. Cursed herself for finding him just a little attractive and fantasising that there was a frisson there that was going to lead somewhere. Cursed herself for being such a stupid bitch.
She’d let things inch slowly Valérie’s way because his people were still dutifully attending their various work groups and getting on with what needed to be done, and the children were still attending the classes being held by Rebecca. Jenny had been prepared to let things continue because the alternative was unthinkable; two separate tribes, each living on their own platform and eyeing each other suspiciously down the length of a one hundred foot long suspended walkway.
Us and Them was not how this place was going to survive.
She crossed the main deck and stepped onto the long walkway leading to the main compression platform. At the far end she could see a cluster of his people watching her coming over. She picked out some of their faces. Denise, Alice, Laura and baby Tom in her arms, the youngest member of the community at six months old. Jenny smiled and called across a ‘good morning’ to them. Nods back. That’s all. A wary nod from each of them. They stood at the end of the walkway’s long creaking wire cage like guards at a border crossing.
Trying to appear reasonable. That was her big mistake. So far she’d realised her only strong suit was to make a big thing of appearing unfalteringly reasonable, whilst quietly hoping that Valérie’s embarrassingly Old Testament shtick was going to start unravelling and sounding ridiculous.
The old ‘give him enough rope’ strategy.
But instead, since making his bed over here, it appeared that his congregation was growing in size again; a lot more ears for him to bend. And ridiculous-sounding tales of floods and Noah’s Arks and God’s plan seemed to be exactly what people wanted to listen to in the candlelit gloom of an evening.
At the other end of the walkway, she stepped out of the cage and beamed a friendly smile at the women.
‘Where’s Valérie?’
Alice Harton’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly as she took a step forward. ‘Why?’
‘I need to talk to him about some accommodation issues.’
Alice made a show of giving it her consideration. Finally she shrugged and shuffled a half step back, as if she was giving Jenny permission to step on board.
‘All right. He’s up on the top deck near the scrubbers.’
Jenny’s smile was thin and utterly insincere. ‘Thank you, Alice.’
She pushed past them and used the external flight of stairs up the side of the tall compression module. Jenny realised she’d not actually seen any of those ladies for days. Not since the segregated meal sittings had started taking place.
In fact, she’d not seen Martha for several days either. Last time she’d seen her they’d passed each other on a walkway. She’d been talking animatedly with Kaisha and Hamarra, talking evangelically about the wonderful future, filling the wire cage with her sunny voice. Her face had lit up at the sight of Jenny, a genuinely friendly smile and a little wave as they passed each other. Jenny thought she saw a ghost of sadness in Martha’s eyes that she couldn’t talk her friend into joining them.
Jenny missed Martha. Really missed her.
Not for the first time, she wondered how easy it would be to do that - to join her, let Martha talk her round. She could announce she was standing down and someone else could run things. Perhaps she’d sit