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Alif ====

1

"Whatever thoughts, fantasies or conjectures you may have about working
in a Brothel - especially a State Brothel - you should dismiss straight
away. It really is no different to working anywhere else. You will not be
expected to behave any differently to a secretary or personal assistant
employed in any other business."

Ana nodded. This was what she'd hoped to hear. Although her
interviewer was just a little bit more flamboyant than most, - as befitted
the Director of the largest Brothel in the country, - she had been afraid
that he might have been far worse. Mr Madir was not a tall man, but when
wearing his top hat he had a bearing and demeanour that more than
compensated for his vertical disadvantage. His stubby fingers were either
fiddling with his cigarette holder or, as at the moment, delicately holding
a cigarette a small distance from his mouth. Although his fingers didn't
have the yellow stain of nicotine associated with a habitual smoker, there
was a suggestion of roughness about them.

Ana had never visited the City of Blad before. She had never been very
far from her home in Rif, a rural district in the heart of Alif renowned
more for its wide open plains and sugar beet than it was for providing
employment. She'd despaired of ever finding a job when one of her very
many applications was returned not with the usual polite regrets but with
an interview date. And now she was here, the interview was almost a
formality. As soon as her duties had been explained to her and the
Director had confirmed that she'd gained the requisite grades in her
secretarial examinations, the tone of the interview shifted quite markedly
from if she were to work as his secretary towards when.

However, this might not be so surprising, Ana reflected. Not many
people would be attracted to working in a Brothel. Initially she had been
very reluctant to post off her application form, despite all the effort
expended in its completion. Some of Ana's friends seemed simultaneously
shocked and titillated by Ana's potential job offer, while others advised
her that with jobs so hard to find, especially in Rif, she shouldn't ignore
any opportunity. It was also true that this job had its attractions: the
pay was good and accommodation would be provided free of charge (not, as
Ana was relieved to discover, in the Brothel itself).

The Blad State Brothel was an imposing building. It was difficult to
determine the building's shape because from whatever direction it was seen
other buildings in the narrow winding roads obscured some of it. Its
entrance was a wide doorway, many times higher than the tallest man,
leading to a foyer where men were sitting on armchairs or anxiously milling
around. At first Ana was unsure where to go, but she breathed deep and
strode towards the scantily dressed lady at the reception desk. She would
not be deflected at this last hurdle. At the very least, she'd want to
reclaim her not inconsiderable travelling expenses.

When Ana introduced herself, she was treated in exactly the same
officious way she'd associated with receptionists at other interviews she'd
attended. Mr Madir was informed by telephone that Ana had arrived and
then, because he was such an important man, the receptionist escorted Ana
into his private elevator and up to his office. Even then, Ana had to wait
with the plants and plaques in the anteroom for nearly half an hour beyond
the official scheduled time of the interview before the Director could see
her. Ana speculated that this might be because there were other candidates
for the job, but when he opened his door to invite her in there was no
evidence of what might have delayed him.

"However, this is a Brothel," continued the Director, smoke billowing
through the nostrils of his long thin nose. "And it is worth your while
knowing how the institution works. No doubt, like many country bumpkins,
you have some very peculiar ideas about it. And from what I've heard of
State Brothels in the provinces, this may not be entirely due to rustic
ignorance." He leaned forward to gaze into Ana's face, forcing her to lean
back while still maintaining a fixed bland smile. "Do you have any idea
what motivates women - or men - to work as prostitutes?"

Ana swallowed slightly. "No," was all she managed to eructate.

"None of your friends have ever been prostitutes? None of them ever
considered it as a career?"

Ana shook her head. What must Mr Madir think of her?

"There are many different reasons for a woman, - and most of the
prostitutes here are women, - to work as a Prostitute. The most positive
ones are held by those attracted to prostitution as a profession, and who
take it every bit as seriously as the legal, medical, pedagogical and, I
dare say," the Director sniffed a little dismissively, "the secretarial
professions. These are the prostitutes I most admire. They are the ones
who have ensured that, over the centuries, the State Brothels continue to
provide the highest possible level of service and satisfaction. A standard
which would have ensured a state monopoly even if the law didn't already
prescribe it.

"Then there are those attracted purely for the remuneration.
Prostitutes are very competitively salaried, and the bonuses, overtime and
fringe benefits are really second to none. Quite a few Prostitutes, and
not just the Alpha grades, earn substantially more than myself. Why an
employee wishes to earn so much money is really none of my business and I
do not wish to pry. However," and again Mr Madir leaned uncomfortably
forward, "one hears terrible things about their private habits. Some even
drink alcohol. And for a filthy habit like that they need the money to buy
it on the black market. And some have children. You don't have children,
m'dear?"

Ana shook her head. She felt distinctly ill at ease. Even in her smart
and demure interview outfit, - which rather exaggerated any stiffness or
primness she might already possess, - the Director's pale brown eyes seemed
to unclothe her.

"Good. And then there are those here in penal service. They most
definitely do not enjoy the career advantages of other Prostitutes, but
many choose to linger on as employees after serving their sentence. I
don't enjoy my dual role as Prison Governor and Managing Director, but I am
above all a servant of the Government and in that capacity I am thoroughly
loyal. Do you have any questions?"

Ana couldn't think of any, and rather hoped the interview would end
soon. It was difficult to avoid looking into the Director's face, and every
time she did his eyes pierced straight through her. No doubt it was his
profession that made him appear like this, thought Ana charitably. Or
maybe, she wondered less benevolently, it was what he was already like that
had decided his choice of profession.

"Irrespective of the terms of their employment all the Prostitutes are
strictly graded according to their appearance, performance and special
services. This is categorised by Greek letters. The highest grades are
the Alphas with the Alpha Double Plus being the highest quality, most
well-paid and, as far as the client is concerned, the most expensive. At
the other extremes are the Epsilons. These might be considered bargain
basement by the clients, and their services are usually only retained
because of the demand for cheapness. Epsilons mostly consist of convicts
and economic migrants. Personally, I would never avail myself of their
services, but there are many poverty-stricken clients with sufficiently
less discretion than myself.

"If you were employed as a Prostitute, I imagine that you would be
categorised as Beta Plus which is no bad thing to be. There are
opportunities to work part-time as a Prostitute. Should you ever consider
it, it's a very good way to improve your salary quite substantially." The
Director paused to pull another cigarette from the silver cigarette case on
the desk. He tapped it on the exterior, though there seemed no reason to
suspect it needed such attention and fixed it in the end of his cigarette
holder. "Does the prospect of such extra employment attract you at all,
m'dear?"

Ana blushed. Revulsion gripped her stomach. She'd rather die! A
heroic image of herself jumping out of the Director's window onto the city
streets many floors below came to mind as she vehemently and speechlessly
shook her head.

"Well, you may come to change your opinion with time and acquaintance,"
mused Mr Madir, who adjusted the cigarette holder in his lips and flicked
open his cigarette lighter. He lit his cigarette carefully, watching the
smoke rise. Ana averted her eyes from the smoke and focused them on the
ponderous gold ring on his forefinger.

The remainder of the interview concerned more mundane aspects such as
the starting date, salary, holiday allowance and the accommodation she
would be offered. Ana soon found herself committed to commencing the very
next day and despite her reservations about the Brothel and the Director
himself, she could articulate no good reason for not accepting the offer.
The Director had a tendency to digress and talk about his own job and
responsibilities, and in these moments Ana had the opportunity to inspect
the office. This was to be the place, she began to accept, where she'd be
spending most of her working day, taking down short-hand, typing letters
and exercising the Director's more menial duties. The office was very
plush, as befitted the Director's status, and above his head hung an
impressive portrait of President Marmeluke, dressed in a more flamboyant
military uniform, gazing imperiously down on his two subjects.

After the interview, the Director escorted Ana to the Brothel Canteen
along endless corridors and staircases. Ana wondered if she'd ever become
familiar with the building's geography. Along the corridors were closed
doors with a bright light above each one. Some were red, some were green
and some were switched off. The Director explained that these described
the Prostitute's current status. When the light was red, the Prostitute
was engaged with a client and was not to be disturbed. When green, the
Prostitute was on duty but was not at that time engaged with a client. And
when switched off, the Prostitute was off duty.

Generally, the corridors were fairly empty. Occasionally they passed a
man escorted by one of the receptionists wearing the regulation tight,
rather revealing, leather uniform tottering on painfully high heels. These
were clients being taken to a Prostitute, Mr Madir explained. Or, of
course, he added, being escorted back to reception. No client was
permitted to wander freely about the building. There were also Prostitutes
walking singly or in pairs. These were off duty, the Director explained.
But even then they had to dress as Prostitutes in case the client saw them.
And indeed the scanty skin-tight clothes, the high heeled stilettos, the
thick make-up and, in some cases, total absence of clothes, left little
doubt as to their profession. Ana had never seen so many provocatively
dressed, or undressed, women in all her life, and she felt embarrassment
warm her cheeks and a curious excitement her body, which made it difficult
to breathe or talk in a natural way.

Soon enough, they passed through some swing-doors with Entry Forbidden
to Clients etched on the glass, and the doors now had titles, like Internal
Examinations, Catering Clerk and Foreign Services, with which Ana felt more
comfortable. And there was an arrow that said To Staff Canteen.

The Brothel Canteen really could have been a canteen anywhere, sharing
the same air of temporary reprieve. It was larger than any canteen Ana had
seen before but there were all the expected features: formica-top tables,
counter and canteen staff, red plastic trays and cardboard coffee cups.
The Director beckoned over one of the canteen staff, a harassed middle-aged
woman in an apron and simpering smile, who scurried forward to take his
order for coffees.

"Where shall we sit, m'dear?" the Director asked.

"I don't really mind," said Ana who had nevertheless scanned the tables
and saw many that she probably would mind sitting at. On some tables there
was the customary chaos of empty cups, wrapping paper and coffee stains.
On others, there were women in several states of dress and undress gathered
in pairs or groups, some observing Mr Madir and her rather warily.

"I'll introduce you to some of the workers," announced the Director
striding towards a table with three women sitting at it. Ana tailed him,
her reserved interview clothes very much out of character.

The Director briefly introduced the three women in turn, before sitting
in a chair. Ana sat next to him. One girl, Ferhana, was slim and black,
wearing black suspenders, stockings and black lace underwear. Her hair was
fairly short and she beamed at Ana with a peculiar mischievous grin.
Opposite Ana was Binta, who had long mousy brown hair to her waist and wore
no clothes at all. Ana found the prospect of sitting so close to a pair of
round naked breasts and their lightly pronounced nipples curiously
threatening. The third girl, Bezaffa, was extremely plump with very soft
white skin, most of which was clearly visible through her skimpy, nearly
transparent, dress. Although fat, she was not at all unattractive, her
friendly, welcoming face framed by blonde shoulder-length hair.

"Ferhana's a foreigner as you can probably tell," the Director continued
after the canteen assistant had produced two cups of coffee, both in
somewhat superior china with sugar cubes and a spoon resting in the saucer.
"Not many jobs where you come from are there, m'dear?"

"Very few," admitted Ferhana, who spoke with a flat accent. "Haj is a
very poor country. Not like Alif. Many people do not have enough to eat
and the cities are very dirty. That is why I have come here." She smiled
broadly and gazed straight into Ana's eyes.

"We don't have many niggers in Alif," explained the Director, "so they
possess premium value in the Brothel. You're doing quite well here aren't
you, Ferhana dear?"

"Yes," she admitted. "When I first have come to the Brothel, I was just
a Beta Plus. But I have done many tests and many exercises. Now I am an
Alpha Minus and many more clients want me. I have learnt how to look after
my body so I am much more good at my work and much more good to look at."

"Actually Ferhana's serving time here," elaborated the Director. "She
was found guilty of smuggling alcohol into the country, weren't you?"

Ferhana looked remorseful. "Yes, that is true. In Haj it is not
against the law to buy and sell alcohol. And I made very much money
selling it. But I was caught and I was sent here to be reformed." She
smiled at the Director. "But I am reformed now. And soon I will work here
and make very much money selling my body."

"A much more creditable way to make a living," he said approvingly. "It
always fills me with pleasure when girls in my care are reformed. It makes
the custodial aspect of the Brothel much easier to bear."

Ferhana sipped from her cardboard cup fixing her eyes on the Director.
"It is good to know that I have a good career waiting for me at the end of
my sentence."

"Binta's also here for remedial purposes," the Director continued.
Binta visibly jumped at being addressed, but nervously composed herself.
"Like Ferhana she was classified on arrival as a Beta Plus, and I'm sure
that she too could attain an Alpha grade if she worked at it." Binta nodded
but her eyes wandered away from the Director and towards Ana. "These two
girls are actually quite untypical, m'dear. Most of the prisoners we get
are quite poor grade. Most are Gammas and Deltas. We even get a few
Epsilons. My greatest reservation of government policy in placing
criminals in my care is that they tend to lower the general standard. And
so few of them are properly motivated. Isn't that true, Binta?"

"Probably," she answered noncommittally.

"I don't think Binta's got quite the right attitude," the Director
sniffed. "But, Ana, what do you think about the way she dresses?"

Ana blushed. "I'm sorry. What ...?"

"Or the way she doesn't dress," the Director continued. "It's not my
choice. I prefer the girls to be smartly turned out like Ferhana here. A
good pair of heels. Well- applied makeup. But the Department of Public
Services has quite a liberal attitude and it allows this nudist look. What
do you call it, Binta?" Binta frowned. "Naturism, isn't it? There is a
sufficiently large demand for naked girls for this kind of appearance to be
permitted. They can get away without wearing any makeup or other kind of
prescribed body care as long as they remain naked all the time. Isn't that
so?"

Binta nodded. Her eyes wandered back towards Ana who caught a flash of
insolence before they lowered in token subservience.

"Binta's not the only nudist you'll see here," the Director continued,
"but thankfully there aren't too many of them. I wouldn't like the Brothel
to look like some heathen place. But I can't answer for the clients'
tastes. And it's the public to whom I'm ultimately answerable." He pulled
a cigarette out of its case and tapped it on the Formica surface. "But
you'd say you're a reformed girl, wouldn't you Binta?"

"Yes, of course," she said firmly but without enthusiasm.

"President Marmeluke's government doesn't lightly institute policies.
There's a great deal of reasoned debate. And it's very cheering to see
demonstrable proof of its wisdom. Binta won't treat public morality with
such disrespect again, will you?"

Binta shook her head. Ana felt herself sympathising with Binta's
somewhat sullen attitude towards the Director. Indeed, now that she'd got
over the original shock of sitting opposite a naked woman, it no longer
seemed so strange. Indeed it would probably have detracted from Binta's
fresh-faced attractiveness if she'd been dressed in underwear with such
pronounced makeup as Ferhana. Perhaps not all prostitutes are sluts, she
reflected.

"However, for a model for my other employees there can be none better
than Bezaffa. Can there, m'dear?"

"You flatter me," smiled Bezaffa coyly.

"Unlike these other two, Bezaffa came into the profession by choice.
And she's a true professional. An Alpha Plus. Isn't that so?"

"It is," Bezaffa agreed modestly.

"You might wonder how someone as ample as Bezaffa, someone as
voluptuous, could get such a high rating. But that's because certain
species of employee are classified appropriately for their particular
virtues. And for her type, Bezaffa is quite simply top notch."

"It's hard work maintaining it," confessed Bezaffa, smiling
confidentially at Ana. "I have to spend a lot of time every day practising
and keeping myself in shape."

"No hardship keeping your figure, though," the Director commented,
leaning towards Bezaffa. Ana reviewed Bezaffa in an attempt to evaluate
why she should have such a high rating. She supposed that she did seem
peculiarly attractive for such a large woman. Her face, in particular,
shone with a fresh gleam with dark blue eyes and light blonde hair. Her
smile had a flirting seductiveness which dimpled her round smooth cheeks.
Her breasts swelled over the roundness of her belly with her enormous pink
nipples clearly showing through the skimpy white dress.

"Bezaffa's very much in demand. Indeed most of your work is spent
visiting clients rather than them visiting you here. And you're booked
quite a few days in advance."

"Well, I do have my regulars - which ensures a very full appointments
diary."

"And I bet they give you a little extra on the side," the Director joked
slyly.

"I wouldn't admit to that, would I, sweetie?" Bezaffa answered. "But I
can refuse clients I don't like. That's almost the greatest privilege of
being an Alpha Plus."

"Don't say that too loudly," laughed the Director. "Or the other girls will be even more jealous of you!"

"It's not very often I exercise my prerogative, of course," Bezaffa
elaborated. "I like all my clients. Especially the regulars. In fact I
really enjoy my job."

"It's a good career, isn't it?" the Director enthused. Ana noticed that
Binta didn't seem to share Bezaffa wild-eyed enthusiasm. Indeed she
scowled at the very suggestion of the profession's appeal. "Tell Ana about
the advantages of your work."

"It's a good career. It's a good way to meet a lot of very interesting
people and it keeps you terribly fit. In fact it's almost all I can do to
keep myself as plump as I am. There can't be many jobs where you're paid
to enjoy yourself and get paid so well. The holiday allowance is very
generous, there's an index-related pension and plenty of opportunity for
overtime. You ought to do some part-time work in it yourself, dear. You
can certainly earn quite a bit of extra cash - more than your regular
income. Have you considered that option at all?"

Ana blushed. "No, not at all!"

"Well, I'm sure you'll get round to the idea. Your predecessor, Inta,
was just like you to start with but after a while she got to be quite
enthusiastic about it."

"She did very well," agreed the Director. "But don't you worry, if it's
not for you, then that'll be respected."

"Of course, sweetie," Bezaffa agreed. She glanced at the tiny red plastic watch which pinched into her swollen wrist. "Well, it's been nice
talking to you, but I've got a client to visit so I'll have to be going."

She eased out of her plastic chair and heaved herself up. She leaned
over and kissed Ana tenderly on the cheek. "Welcome to the Brothel. I'm
sure you'll enjoy working here. And I'm sure we'll see a lot of each
other." She then bade everyone farewell and walked off in long confident
strides on stilettos which demonstrated a degree of delicate charm not
often associated with such large women.

The Director glanced at the canteen clock. "One o'clock!" he announced.
"I must get back to the office. And it must be time for your shift, too,
Ferhana m'dear."

"Oh yes!" she answered, promptly leaping to her feet. "I was just about
to go."

"And what about you, Binta?"

"I'm on a later shift," she announced.

"Right, m'dear!" The Director stood up and shook Ana's hand. "So, we'll
be seeing you punctually first thing tomorrow morning. I'll go through
your duties with you then."

Ana nodded, still unsettled by her changed circumstances, and watched as
the Director and Ferhana disappeared together through the canteen doors
which slammed shut behind them with a puff. Ana was left sitting just
opposite Binta and not at all sure where to direct her eyes. She couldn't
very well look away from Binta as that would seem too rude, but she felt
very nervous gazing at a naked woman however natural her nakedness might
appear.

Binta smiled reassuringly at Ana. "You're new to Blad, aren't you?"

"Yes. I've never been to the big city before."

"It must seem very intimidating. I've not seen much of the city myself
- except, you know, what I can see from the Brothel. And that's not a
lot."

"Are you here all the time?"

"Yes. I'm never let out! I might run away, you see!"

"You really are a prisoner here!"

"Nothing could tempt me to stay here otherwise," Binta affirmed. She
examined Ana quizzically. "You poor dear. All this must seem very queer
to you. If you like I'll show you more of this place. Would you like
that?"

Ana glanced around the rest of the canteen at all the strange women and
the counter staff more animated now that the Director was gone. "That
would be interesting."

"I'll show you my room. It's not much, but it'll give you more of an
insight of what the Brothel's about."

2

Binta escorted Ana from the Canteen, along another series of corridors,
illuminated by lights over the doors, around a confusion of corners and up
disconnected flights of stairs. Ana felt very self-conscious of
accompanying a naked woman and averted her eyes as much as possible. She
had no idea where they were in relation to the Canteen, and the elevator in
which she had originally arrived, but she understood better the scale of
the Brothel. Binta chatted idly to Ana and greeted the prostitutes they
passed either by name or by just a smile. They differed somewhat in age
and appearance. Not all were particularly attractive and many were
immigrants. Most wore make-up and provocative clothing, which gave the
impression that they had been unexpectedly interrupted while getting
dressed.

"So you come from Rif?" smiled Binta. "I don't know it, but it's
probably quite similar to Jebel, the district I come from. Do you know
it?"

"No, not at all. I've never travelled far from Rif before. It's so
expensive!"

The door to Binta's room was identical to all the others, paced out in
both directions. The light above the door was switched off, but the light
above many other doors was green. The one above the door to the right was
red. Binta pushed open her unlocked door to reveal her room. "It's really
nothing special," she said desultorily, waving her arm around theatrically.
"Almost all the bedrooms are exactly the same. Their official title is
boudoir, but since it's where I sleep and stay when there are no Clients
it's mostly just a bedroom to me."

The room wasn't especially exotic. It was dominated by a plain double
bed with a very robust mattress covered by synthetic silk sheets. Lining
one wall was a wardrobe and book-case adorned by paperback novels and
inexpensive ornaments. Next to that was a small alcove enclosing a sink, a
mirror and a plastic shelf supporting an array of scented soaps, shampoo
and tooth-paste. On the other side of the bed was a simple arm-chair and a
full-length wall mirror. A sealed double-glazed window was beside the bed,
through which was a view of office blocks and a distant park. The only
evidence that the room served as a boudoir was the predominant rich sherry
red of the room and the three pictures on the wall displaying women in
states of undress. One was a black and white photograph and the other two
were prints of paintings by not particularly talented artists.

"No, I didn't choose the decor!" laughed Binta, sitting on the edge of
the bed while Ana cast her eyes around. "I hate the pictures and red is
not my favourite colour! I'd have painted it green, I think, if I'd had
the choice. But at least I get a nice view."

Ana smiled shyly, closed the door behind her and strode to the window to
view the City of Blad below. It still seemed intimidating but exciting.
Would she ever get used to the hustle and bustle? She turned around, her
back to the window, and mused at her reflection in the mirror. She was
such a timid animal with none of Binta's natural self-confidence. She
could never walk around a Brothel with no clothes on.

"It's a very nice mirror!" Ana remarked, her eyes tracing her figure
from her buckled low-heeled shoes to the straight hair that felt so lank
and unmanaged.

"It's in a very commanding position, don't you think?" Binta commented,
also regarding Ana's reflection.

"Yes," Ana agreed. It was set at forty-five degrees from one wall to
the other and cut a corner off the room. "You can see every part of the
room in the mirror."

"And it can see you in every part of the room as well. It has a
television camera behind it, you know."

Ana gasped. "What! To spy on you?"

"All the Prostitutes have them! It's no big deal. It's so that the
Clients can view us from the selection room when we're on duty. They scan
a live video relay of prostitutes to choose the one whose services they
want to purchase. When on duty, we have to stay in our rooms all the time,
so they can examine us like that. Do you see the light above the door?"

"It's just like the one outside."

"When it's green, that means that I'm being looked at, so I have to
advertise myself and look like I'm really keen to provide my services -
though of course I haven't got any idea at all of who to!"

"Ugh! That's sounds horrid!"

"You really don't like prostitution at all, do you," smiled Binta
indulgently. "...And when they've chosen you, the light goes red and you
know that for the next half hour or an hour you're not going to be able to
continue doing the crossword, reading the paper or whatever else you might
have been doing before." Binta lay on her back on the bed, her head resting
on the pillow. She rolled over to observe Ana who was still standing by
the window. "My theory is that that's not all they use the mirror for. I
think they record us having sex with Clients and make pornographic videos."
"I can't believe they would do that!"

"Well, I don't know for sure, of course. But I wouldn't put it beyond
them. I often think someone out there's watching what I'm doing and
evaluating my performance!" Binta smiled wickedly. "You mustn't forget
that this is a Brothel, you know."

Ana felt uncomfortable, so she sat in the armchair, after facing it away
from the mirror. "But living here is not all just being a prostitute is
it?"

"No, not at all. It's a prison as well. It's all things. It's home,
work and prison. And it's most like a prison when it's work. Then, I'm
confined here waiting for the green light to come on. And when the light
is red, no matter how bad I feel, or whether it's one Client or ten, I have
to provide a service. The more Clients I serve and the more satisfaction I
give the more likely I am to be offered remission for good behaviour. On a
very good day, the light never goes red."

Binta rested her head against the wall and supported her body on her
shoulders. Ana's eyes nervously wandered down the length of Binta's slim
tanned body to focus on the mass of brown hair between her legs, but she
checked herself and raised her eyes up to gaze at her face.

"I can do what I like when I'm not working, as long as I don't leave the
confines of the Brothel. I can watch television in one of the television
rooms. Visit other girls who're not on duty. Drink tea in the Canteen.
Keep fit in the swimming pool or gym. And even tend my garden on the roof
and enjoy the little bit of fresh air that I am allowed. It's not such a
bad life, I suppose, when I'm not working. There are people in Alif, not
in prison, much worse off than me. I can see the beggars in the streets
below. I've heard about the poverty and famine in the remoter regions of
Alif. But I hate the work. I hate sex with these nauseating men! And I
hate never being able to leave the Brothel!"

Ana shivered at the mention of the men, and Binta noticed that. "You're
even more appalled by prostitution than Inta, aren't you? She hated it
too, although not as much as me, I think! After all, she volunteered for
it in the end. Do you have much prostitution in Rif?"

"Not very much at all. There's a brothel in the County Town, but I
don't know anyone who's been there and I've never even seen it."

"Much the same for me in Jebel," admitted Binta. "I always thought
prostitutes were repugnant and filthy. I never believed I'd ever become
one. And all the obnoxious obscene perverted things I thought that men would do: it's all true. And worse! I don't know how men can live with
themselves. They're all perverts. I didn't like men before I came here,
and I'm certainly never going to like them after the personal hell they've
put me through."

Ana's gaze wandered away from Binta and through the window. The sight
of the blue sky and the seagulls flying over the city buildings made it
easier to listen to Binta. Ana's knowledge of men was not very
comprehensive and Binta's account generated a sensation of abhorrence. Her
gaze floated back to Binta and unconsciously centred again on the pubic
hair, which confirmed to her how different one woman could be from another.
"I don't suppose you're used to being with a naked woman, are you?"
commented Binta, covering her crotch with a hand. "It's not what I would
normally choose to be myself. I'm no more a naturist by conviction than I
am a prostitute, but I'd rather wear no clothes at all and pretend to be
one, than walk around in underwear all day. Or in leather. Or squeeze my
feet into those horrible shoes with the ridiculously high heels. Or spend
my life in front of a mirror covering my face with rouge, paint and
lipstick. The reason I'm officially a naturist, is simply to avoid all
that. And I get away with it because enough men think it's sexy. But it
does mean that I own absolutely no clothes whatsoever, and that, once a
month, I have to be especially clean."

"Most Prostitutes have to wear those clothes?"

"Of course. They're Brothel issue. Those who're not designated
naturist are issued with a wardrobe and can wear nothing else at all when
in the Brothel. There's not much variety. It's all rubber, leather, lace,
nylon, silk or gauze of one kind of another. It's stilettos, suspenders,
basques, stockings and collars. And the make-up! It makes everyone look
like aliens from another planet. What do you think?"

Ana nodded. "I've never seen people dressed like it before!"

"I suppose that's the idea of it. If Prostitutes looked like everyone
else, then the Clients would realise that they're just human. And that
would never do!"

"If you hate prostitution so much, why are you here?"

"Well, it was either this or an all-woman's jail, where the conditions
are much worse and the male warders might rape or molested you, or a
convent. No convent would accept me because I never go to church and I
don't want to go to the jail."

"But what crime did you commit? Was it drugs?"

"No, I've never been a drinker!" laughed Binta playfully. "What do you
think it might have been?"

Ana wondered. She couldn't imagine Binta as an armed criminal or
terrorist, even with clothes on. She was too well-educated and
intelligent. Perhaps it was tax evasion, but Binta was too young to have
earned enough taxes to evade. And it certainly would not have been
freelance prostitution. She shook her head. "I've no idea. None at all!"
Binta smiled. "No idea! I was beginning to think it was written all
over my face. You really don't know? I'm not sure I know how to tell you.
You might be shocked or alarmed!"

"Is it murder?" gasped Ana, suddenly rather frightened.

"No, it's lesbianism."

Ana wasn't sure that she heard right. Did these people actually exist
and was she actually sitting in the same room as one? "What did you say?"

"I'm a lesbian," Binta repeated. "I'm here for repeatedly and
unashamedly performing homosexual acts with another woman. It doesn't
matter that she was a consenting adult. I have committed the serious
offence of lesbianism."

"And you're in the Brothel for that?"

"I can be grateful for small mercies. It was once a capital offence.
Lesbians would be stoned to death or disembowelled or something. Now it's
just a period of incarceration."

Ana looked at Binta's naked body with trepidation. So, this is what a
lesbian looked like. She had no preconceptions of what they were like, but
she knew that lesbianism was wrong. Not only wrong but perverse:
contradicting the natural, God- given order of the world. And Binta was a
lesbian. Was she safe being in the same room as her?

"I suppose just as you've never met a prostitute, you've never knowingly
met a lesbian before," Binta commented, sitting up, her hair falling over
her breasts and obscuring her crotch.

"Knowingly?"

"Well, you've probably met lesbians without knowing it."

"Do you think so?" This was a novel concept for Ana. "I thought it was
obvious."

"Of course, it isn't! What did you think?"

"I just had no opinions at all," Ana confessed.

"Don't worry. I'm not going to attack you!" Binta said comfortingly.
"You really are as naive as you appear, aren't you?"

"Yes," admitted Ana, feeling a little foolish. "Rif's a very quiet
place."

"Don't worry about me being a lesbian," continued Binta, reassuringly.
"It's just one of those things. Think of it like as if I were black. Or
disabled. Or a talented artist. I'm just a little different that's all.
If it weren't illegal, you wouldn't think anything of it."

"Are you sure?" wondered Ana uncertainly.

"I'm sure. After all lesbianism's not illegal in every country, so it
can't really be that bad. Everyone knows that Alif's a repressive country.
Lots of things are illegal in Alif that are legal elsewhere."

"Is that so?" queried Ana who hadn't known this before. "What things?"

"You know: trades union membership, alcohol, gambling, women driving,
lots of things."

"And there are countries where they are legal?"

"Not just legal. Almost encouraged. Have you never thought about it?
What about alcohol? Why do you think it's banned here and not everywhere?"
"I always thought Alif was somehow a better country for banning drugs
like that."

"Why does it have State Brothels, then? Why do people smoke so much?
Why is there so much poverty?"

"I don't know. I don't know at all!" parried Ana. What was she doing
sitting in a room with a convicted criminal (a pervert at that!), listening
to all this seditious talk? Perhaps Binta would ask her to take her
clothes off and indulge in lesbian sex and drink alcohol. Ana thought this
image would inspire absolute disgust, but the tremor of fear that shook her
was precisely because it did not do so.

3

Binta swung round and sat on the edge of the bed facing Ana, her feet
trailing on to the red nylon carpet. "I may be a lesbian but in my heart I
know that it is for love not vice that I've been condemned. The fact that
my love is for a woman is not material. My love is what I imagine the love
of a man must be for most women. My love is a passionate love. A romantic
love. A true love. As real as any love."

Binta's passionate pleas comforted Ana. She felt great sympathy for
anyone's love for another person, and she reasoned that it was probably
just odd that it should be for a woman rather than a man. "Who were you in
love with?"

"Am in love with!" Binta emphatically corrected. Her eyes wandered
around the room, briefly resting on her reflection in the mirror and then
back to Ana, her face expressing sadness and almost tragedy. "Her name is
Mezyana. To me she is the most beautiful girl in the world. She has - or
had - long brown hair, almost as long as mine. She's a bit thinner than
me. And I've known her all my life. We were schoolfriends long before we
were lovers. We never imagined we were that horrid thing known as lesbians when we first declared our love for each other."

Binta looked down at her hands clasped together over her knees and let
her hair flop down to cover her face. Ana felt quite uncomfortable. She
had only just met this girl and now she was acting as her confidante.

"Mezyana's quite different from me," continued Binta, raising her head
and pushing a stubborn lock of hair away from her face. "She's much more
moral in many ways. Ethical, you could say. She's got very strong
religious and moral beliefs. Whilst I never go to Church, she goes - or
used to go - every Sunday without fail. She even worked voluntarily as a
Sunday School teacher. I could never see the point of it myself, but she
finds comfort in it and I've always respected that. She would join in the
singing, the prayers and all the other things you do in a Church. How she
never finds it boring, I'll never know. But naturally it's quite difficult
to be religious in this country if you're also a lesbian."

"Doesn't the Bible have some rather harsh things to say about
homosexuality?"

"I really don't know," Binta admitted. "But it can't be too severe
because there are plenty of countries where homosexuality is allowed with
the Church's blessing. But it's not easy to be homosexual in this country.
Mezyana would say that God made her a lesbian to test her faith. I'm not
sure she meant that she had been tempted by love of a woman and had failed
the test, or if it was some other more subtle test she was undergoing. But
she did say - or she said it once or twice - that the love we felt for each
other was so strong and so good, that it must be blessed by God!"

Binta paused again and Ana felt sure she saw a glint of moisture in her
eyes. Her voice had become quieter, less confident and somehow a little
distant. Ana wanted to comfort her, but was afraid of doing so by touching
her in a reassuring way.

"We were schoolfriends, Mezyana and I. From such an early age. We were
best friends. We sat next to each other in all the classes. We walked
home together after school. We played games with each other at school and
at home. We would always be visiting each other and staying the night at
each others' homes. It was a friendship between two school-girls no
different to any other. Perhaps stronger than most, but not unusually so.
The games we played, like Doctors and Nurses, Mothers and Fathers, and so
on, were just the innocent games that girls always play. My parents and
Mezyana's parents were ordinary people: caring, helpful, friendly. There
was no history of sexual or drug abuse. In Jebel, our families were
considered respectable and unremarkable.

"I don't know how it evolved into a love affair. There certainly wasn't
a day when I said to Mezyana 'Let's be lovers.' And I'd certainly never
have said 'Let's be lesbians.' As children we declared our undying love for
each other: but that was quite innocent. It wasn't sexual love at all. It
was simply an expression of the strength of our feelings as best friends.
It was expressed as love, because other words never seemed strong enough.
And anyway we were always encouraged to declare our love for our parents and, in Mezyana's case, for God. But we recognised from a very early age
that we loved each other."

Binta paused again, looking not at Ana but at her reflection, seemingly
lost in thought. Ana recalled her own best friends at school. She had
never declared love for any of them, but she acutely remembered the strong
bonds that tied them together.

"Mezyana was a Church-goer from the beginning. Her parents went to
Church regularly, and she continued going, even when she no longer had any
compulsion to do so. I'm sure they would have understood if Mezyana had
decided not to. Mezyana's religious passion still continues, of course.
She's opted to serve her sentence as a novice in a Convent rather than in a
jail, you know. She'd never contemplate serving it in a Brothel, however
harsh life might be in a prison. Religion and Ethics were the only big
differences between Mezyana and me. But as children these didn't matter at
all. I'd never had a religious upbringing, and Sunday mornings and
sometimes Sunday evenings were just times I couldn't come out to play with
my best friend.

"We were always together the rest of the time, however. And that's how
our love developed. We held hands, we kissed each other tenderly and
innocently, and when we came to puberty we played with our bodies in the
way children do. We explored each other in detail, with especial
fascination for our developing mounds of bosom, the changing shape of our
bodies and the area between our thighs. It was so innocent though.
Nothing remotely sexual at all. Sensual, maybe. But not sexual."

Ana again reflected on her past. There were no times that her closest
friends had ever seen her naked body, except in the school changing-room
showers. She had no memories of exploring her friends' bodies, but Ana
accepted that different people had different childhood experiences and this
was one way in which Binta's differed from hers.

"At some stage, our innocent probings of each other must have evolved
into something more physical and sexual. Maybe it was when we were eleven.
Maybe it was much later, when we were fourteen and our bodies were much
more mature. I don't know. I'm sure only someone who can exactly define
how a sexual act differs from any other could pinpoint it. At some time,
however, the sexual aspect of our friendship was unavoidable. We were no
longer just best friends. We were also lovers. It took a very long time
for us to recognise the fact, and even longer to actually believe it or to
be aware of its implications. But by that time - which must have been when
we first realised that lesbianism was not a foreign condition but a word
that described our love for each other - our passionate love was far too
committed for us to break it off. But the realisation changed our
relationship forever.

"Now that we knew that we were engaged in a lesbian love affair, we also
knew that we had to keep it secret. It would change other people's
attitude towards us. It would upset our parents. It would upset our
friends. And we also, rather belatedly, became aware that it was illegal.
That came as a great shock to me, but when I told Mezyana she surprised me
by telling me that she already knew. In fact, it was she who comforted me
as I cried and cried about it. I felt so miserable. It also surprised me
that Mezyana, who attached such great store in religious law, could have
such a detached attitude towards criminal law.

"It was not at all easy to keep our love a secret. People must have
thought it strange the way we whispered in corners and the frequency with
which we felt obliged to touch each other. Our lovemaking became quite
clandestine, although as best friends nobody thought it strange when we
spent the night at each other's home. At first we were horribly
frightened. We were so nervous taking our clothes off together, in case we
should be seen. Our relationship seemed soiled and anxious. But we
gradually came to accept it and simply made elaborate precautions before
making love together.

"It was also very romantic, of course. Secretly holding hands in public
places. Kissing each other passionately when we were sure nobody was
looking. Holding each other close and feeling our bodies together, perhaps
through our clothes, and knowing that we were carrying the secret of a love
that could condemn us to imprisonment. And this danger was undeniably
exciting and erotic. It added great spice to our love." Binta paused
again, swept along by her recollections and now beached by the intensity of
her feelings. "I'm not boring you, I hope?"

Ana shook her head.

"Jebel is a very good place for a clandestine love affair. It's quite
hilly and craggy. And some parts are rather remote and quiet. It was
never too difficult to find secluded spots in the hills where nobody could
see us before we saw them, and where we could fling off our clothes and
make love together. The search for such places became obsessive. We would
walk in our school holidays or at weekends with the express purpose of
finding another secret spot where we would never be found. We may have
insects in our pubic hairs and our bodies might be covered in grass or
dust, but it gave us the joy and freedom we needed.

"Jebel villages, like Quria where we lived, are mostly agricultural, but
neither my parents nor Mezyana's are farmers or farm labourers. My father works in a bank in the County Town which he drives to every day and
Mezyana's father's a veterinary surgeon. It's quite a conservative area,
probably quite typical of Alif outside the City of Blad. It's probably
much the same in Rif. Not particularly wealthy, but not desperately poor
either. The community centred around the Church, the School and the
Village Shop. A traditional Alif town, unchanged over the generations."
Binta smiled as she recollected her home. "Is it just the same in Rif?"

"Pretty much so," Ana admitted. "Not so hilly, though. More gently
rolling hills than crags, I would say."

Binta nodded and continued her narrative. "I don't know exactly when
things changed for us in the village, but it was around the time we were
sixteen or so, and quite clearly fully adult. People began treating us
differently. Less indulgently. Nothing was actually said, but I think
people had suspicions about the nature of our friendship. The girls at
school were no longer so friendly towards us, and reacted with alarm if we
ever got too close to them. The local shopkeeper eyed us in a funny way.
And once when we were having one of our walks in the country, a couple of
boys followed us all the way. Even some school teachers treated us oddly.
For instance, we were arbitrarily separated from each other in one class
and had to share desks with other girls, even though we were always good
pupils.

"Even our parents treated us differently. We were forbidden to spend
the night with each other: an announcement which caused me to argue and
shout and cry for hours. It felt like the end of the world for me, as it
also did for Mezyana. We weren't given a good reason for this change of
policy, except that we were 'big girls now' and that 'girls of our age
don't carry on like that'. I was felt that the world was conspiring
against me. That everyone was plotting to destroy my love for Mezyana.

"We were still very naïve of course. We were presented with all this
evidence that people knew about the nature of our relationship, but ignored
it and pretended that it couldn't be so. After all, we'd been so close for
so long we just couldn't imagine we would ever part. We made an extra
effort to disguise signs of affection in public and our rendezvous were
more secret, but we never really appreciated the true significance of our
ever being incriminatingly discovered together."

Binta paused again, her face contorted by emotion and battling to regain
its composure. She gazed down at the clasped hands on her knees. She
kicked out her legs to examine the full length of them. She unclasped her
hands and leaned back.

"We were about seventeen or eighteen years old when we were arrested.
It was undeniably our fault. We'd got used to the way people were treating
us. We no longer really cared for what they thought. And we were getting
a little blase about disguising our secret rendezvous. I suppose it's the
classic case of believing that this sort of thing happens to someone else,
but will never happen to you. But of course it did.

"In most ways it was an unexceptional day when it happened. I certainly
didn't imagine or suspect I was being followed when I made my way to meet
Mezyana at our secret place in the hills, and I don't imagine she did
either. We met each other as usual. And, without any variation from our
normal routine, we were soon undressing and kissing each other. It was
only when we were actually in the process of making love that we were
interrupted by three policemen and a couple of men from the village whom we
recognised but didn't know by name. I was totally stunned! Mezyana
instantly broke into tears, standing up, hiding her breasts and crotch with
her hands. I just stood there, not really bothering to cover myself while
a policeman read out the terms of my arrest. I could hardly hear him
through the rush of blood to my ears and the throb of my temples. We were
then forced into our clothes, had handcuffs clapped to our wrists and
escorted separately down the hill to a police van which drove us away to
our prison cells."

"That must have been horrible!" Gasped Ana.

"I've never spoken to Mezyana since then. We were locked in separate
cells and we've only been able to see each other from a distance across
court rooms and through prison bars. We weren't beaten or physically
abused, but the prison warders and especially other prisoners said some
very hurtful things to me, and I'm sure to Mezyana as well. Everyone
called me a dyke, a term I'd just never heard before. And a pervert. And
they asked indecent questions about what Mezyana and I did together in our
lovemaking. They made vile salacious speculations, which exceeded anything
I'd ever imagined to be possible.

"The next few weeks went by in a kind of daze. My parents were
horrified, and they cried a great deal. What upset them most was that I'd
been arrested before I'd finished my school examinations. No one else
visited me, except Mezyana's parents who were actually more sympathetic and
understanding than my own parents. They told me that they'd discussed our
love with their daughter (which she'd never told me) but made no statement
of what they felt about it.

"We were taken to court eventually. That was the first time I'd seen
Mezyana since we were arrested. And the last time I've seen her. She was
dressed like me in the simple one-piece prison tunic that all prisoners
wear and looked dreadfully pale, with her hair tied back in an unattractive
pony-tail. The trial was very brief, although at the time and in my memory
it seems to have lasted forever. There really wasn't much to it. Both
Mezyana and I were guilty. There was really no way to pretend otherwise.
We were caught unequivocally in the act of an illegal homosexual act, with
three police witnesses. There were others from the village willing to bear
witness of other occasions in which we had been seen indulging in similar
lewd and immoral behaviour. Our only defence was our age and naïvete.

"The only part of the trial not predetermined was the sentence, but it
was clear from the choice of the judge, who had a very low opinion of
immoral behaviour, that it wasn't going to be a light sentence. Prior to
the trial I had discussed with a solicitor which of a Brothel or a Prison I
would choose to serve in if I had to accept the choice. Initially I
inclined towards the Prison, and said so, but I was given time to decide.
As a result of chatting with my cellmates, I soon heard enough about
prisons to decide that a Brothel mightn't be such a bad option. After all,
Prostitution is a choice some women make voluntarily, which can never be
said for prisons! So, when the judge pronounced sentence that I was
consigned to a Brothel. He said this was appropriate. And it would lead
me to see the errors of my perverted ways and no doubt teach me a better
understanding of a woman's proper sexual role. He obviously believed that
sexual intercourse with men was so much better than with a woman that I'd
soon renounce my lesbian tendencies!"

Binta sniffed angrily and emphatically thumped her fist into her palm.
"The idiot! Like most men, he thought that what a woman needs is a penis
inside her and she'll instantly be converted to heterosexuality. For me,
however, the more I see of men the more confirmed I've become in my love of
women. And my yearning for Mezyana just hasn't lessened at all!"

"And so you came to the Brothel and Mezyana was sentenced to a Convent?"

"That's right! It wasn't an option I was given, but then Mezyana is
such a keen church-goer. Perhaps it was her vicar who stood up for her. I
don't know. It's a Convent in the suburbs of Blad. I'll probably never be
allowed to see her there. She's probably had her head shaved like nuns do,
spending all her time praying and doing good deeds. Her religious views
certainly softened the judge's attitude towards her. He said he hoped that
in working for the Lord she would cease to be tempted by the sins of the
flesh and see the error of her ways in the Scriptures.

"Like me, she was in tears when the sentence was pronounced. Neither of
us really believed it was happening. Nobody we'd ever known had ever been
imprisoned. Nothing we'd ever done had knowingly caused anyone any harm.
And we'd not made any material profit from our actions at all. From then,
until I arrived at this Brothel, I imagined the very worst and time and
time again contemplated the practicalities of suicide!"

4

"My life would be so much richer, if only I were free I were free and
with Mezyana. If only we could express our love in the way most lovers can
without fear. All I can ever think of is Mezyana and how much I yearn to
be near her." Binta sighed. "If you've never loved, you can never know how
much pain this separation causes. Whenever I think of love or comfort or
devotion - and that is so often - all I can think of is Mezyana.

" I want to live with her when I leave here. To share all my moments
with her. Especially those little moments: the ones which mean so little
when experienced alone and so much more when I'm with the one I love. We'd
have her own home. We'd sleep in the same bed. Kiss each other as we left
for work in the morning. Sit arm in arm, watching the television, feeling
the comfort of our embraces. Laugh over shared memories over a beer or a
meal out. Be as inseparable as the best of heterosexual couples. These
are such innocent desires. And they so utterly overwhelm me."

Binta ran her hands through the long strands of her hair and gazed sadly
at her naked lap. Ana smiled wanly. Her emotions were curiously
unfocused. She was reassured by Binta's commitment to someone else. She'd
never felt so strongly towards someone as Binta had, but she appreciated
and rather envied the yearnings.

She was about to comment, when a knock distracted her attention towards
the door. A broad smiling woman's face was peering round. Like Binta, she
wore no clothes and her very long hair reached down to just below her
waist. She was deeply sun-tanned and her hair was bleached blonde by the
sun. She was much taller than Binta, - who wasn't especially short, - and
built proportionately. She boasted round breasts, a taut stomach and
muscular thighs. Ana was acutely aware of the incongruity of her interview
clothes and the nakedness of her companions.

"Hiya!" their new companion called out breezily. "How's it going!"

Binta noticeably responded with less enthusiasm. "Hello, Ketaba. Have
you met Ana? The director's new secretary."

"Pleased to meet you, Ana!" Ketaba grinned warmly, approaching her and
kissing her tenderly on the lips. "So you've not come to join our
profession? Well, I'm sure that like Inta you'll soon see its advantages.
It's a good life! Very healthy and curative! As I'm sure Binta's been
telling you..."

"Of course I haven't, Ketaba! I'm no more likely to endorse
prostitution than you are to endorse alcohol or tobacco."

"There's just no comparison, you silly girl!" rebuked Ketaba, sitting by
Binta's feet on the end of the bed. "But you're, well, unnatural. So
you're not likely to have a very balanced view on the profession." She
smiled warmly at Ana. "Don't believe all the perverse advice our pretty
little dyke might give you. She hasn't exactly chosen this career. She
doesn't know how lucky she is that the government has deemed this an
appropriate punishment for her criminal behaviour. She's got a chance in
life she'll be inestimably grateful for the rest of it."

"I just don't understand how you can possibly imagine that the torment
of being mauled and abused by strange men can ever be something to be
grateful for."

"Don't listen to her! She'd never have opinions like that if she
enjoyed normal unperverted sex. Prostitution is a good career. It's the
only one where a woman can be physically active, give pleasure to others,
earn a respectable salary and still never have to leave her bed. It's kept
me healthy and if I were skinny and malnourished like Binta I'd be more
grateful. Still, despite her admirable devotion to naturism, she rather
compromises her healthy image by her carnivorousness and sloth."

"There really can not be very many women who advocate prostitution as
healthy. It's not just a way to keep fit and healthy on the punters'
expense."

"Don't be so facetious, Binta! What do you think Ana must think hearing
your sarcasm about a career which most people here have freely chosen. I
take pride in my work. I like the physical exercise it gives me. And I
like it when clients appreciate a good job done well. And a man cannot
disguise his appreciation: I can tell you!"

"Don't disgust me, Ketaba! Any lingering enthusiasm I ever had for men before I worked here has been more than eradicated by rather too frequent
and intimate association."

"Don't deny that you enjoy it!"

"Of course I do. I can't understand how women could ever voluntarily
put themselves through this ordeal. What do you think, Ana?"

Ana's composure was disturbed by the question. Her natural sympathy
inclined her towards Binta, but she didn't wish to disagree too strongly
with this large naked woman to whom she'd only just been introduced. "I
just don't know enough to hold an opinion."

"Listen to the less perverted employees here, and you'll get a much more
balanced view. One of the advantages of the profession is that it
understands and caters for naturists. I just don't think Binta at all
acknowledges how lucky she is to live and work where clothes are optional.
It's a healthy, life-giving freedom you just can't find anywhere else.
Much as I might criticise Binta for her unconstructive attitudes and
criminal tendencies, I must admit to a kindred feeling to a colleague who
shares my enthusiasm for a natural untrammelled life."

"Our similarities there are extremely shallow," sniffed Binta. "You're
just a fanatic"

"At least I'm not a pervert!" snorted Ketaba in return. "Honestly, Ana,
I don't know how you can sit in the company of someone who so blatantly
disregards the natural order as Binta does. Surely the very notion of her
crude perversions disgust you! How do you know she's not going to try and
seduce you?"

"Don't scare Ana with your crude homophobia. I'm no more likely to try
seducing her than you are to seduce every man you meet..."

"Don't be sarcastic! What could be more natural than the active pursuit
of sexual intercourse? What do you think, Ana?"

Ana's experience of sex was far too inadequate for her to express an
opinion. She stuttered a few non-judgmental words before her face burnt
into a blush. Fortunately, neither of her companions chose to comment on
her virginal embarrassment.

"I detest all unnatural practises, especially homosexuality. The
purpose of sex is to reproduce, and women who practise it with other women,
and men with other men: Why! it's as disgusting and unnatural as murder,
drug-taking, sodomy and cannibalism! Our government recognises this and
does its best to suppress such activities. The president has frequently
spoken of his intentions to stamp out it out, and although I'd disagree
with him on most things, on this I am in full accord."

"I'd have thought that President Marmeluke would be very unlikely to
share your opinions on naturism," challenged Binta. "I'd imagine he'd
consider it every bit as perverse as sado-masochism and incest."

"There really is no comparison! Naturism is nothing more than a return
to the natural order. It is a healthy and commendable relaxation of the
individual in the unfettered body. The other things you mention are all
totally contrary to the natural order. If everyone were homosexual then
the human race would very soon be extinct. If everyone were naked, then
everyone would be much healthier and more fulfilled. I'm shocked to hear a
fellow naturist even hint of any comparison. The only reason naturism
isn't widely practised in this country is consideration to those misguided
people who have an unnatural disgust for their own bodies, but if it were
so bad why is it permitted in a state institution like this Brothel?"

"Entirely for the titillation of the clientele!" Binta bitterly
responded.

"Unlike you, Binta, I see no contradiction in the instinctive delight a
healthy heterosexual man gets from looking at a naked woman and the
pleasure I get from displaying my body. Would you prefer it if men derived
no joy from seeing you unclothed? There is nothing more natural than the
naked human body, and it is equally as natural for a men to enjoy regarding
it. It's just your dykish tendencies that make it impossible for you to
treat it as anything other than a selfish indulgence."

"There aren't very many places where nudity is commonplace..." began
Binta.

"That's where you're wrong! Well, not totally wrong. There are quite
clearly not enough such places. It would be far better if Alif were a
place like Agdal, where a woman can freely walk down the streets of the
capital city wearing nothing more than a contented smile and sandals,
carrying all her possessions in a handbag."

"Agdal again!" Binta smiled. "I wondered how long it would take for you
to raise your favourite subject again. Everything's so much better in
Agdal!"

"But that's because it is. And a well-kept secret in Alif it is too!"
retorted Ketaba. She leaned forward and placed a hand on Ana's knee.
"What do you know about Agdal?"

"Not a great deal!" Ana knew only that the neighbouring republic
supplied consignments of fruit and vegetables to Alif and that its
principal mountains were large enough to be seen from Rif. She knew more
about the other neighbouring kingdoms and republics than she did about
Agdal, but geography had never been her strongest subject at school.

"Exactly! The government of Alif is embarrassed to have such a much
more liberal neighbour. They just don't want people to know that just over
the border there is a country where naturism is widespread and
unexceptional. A country where there are no restrictions as to how many or
how few clothes one can choose to wear. A country where there are people
naked in the city streets, in the countryside, working in offices, driving
tractors, and doing all the other everyday things that one can do without
the tyranny of clothes. For naturists like myself it is truly a paradise.
Whenever I have a holiday, I'm on the first train there with my exit visa
and just the clothes I need to get to and from the border."

Ana had never suspected that Agdal, or any other country, could possibly
allow people to wander freely in the nude. Surely people would object!
Perhaps Ketaba was simply telling an elaborate joke.

"You haven't told Ana everything about Agdal though, have you Ketaba?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean. The country's liberal policies don't
stop at trivial things like nudity. It also allows other things..."

"Like alcohol, you mean?"

"Don't be so coy, Ketaba! Like freedom of speech. Like trades unions.
And of course homosexuality!"

"Well, you would focus on something like that, wouldn't you! The most
disgusting thing about Agdal - and probably why so much about the country
is kept secret in Alif - is its tolerance of homosexuality. In fact, it
almost encourages the perversion! Wherever you go there are depraved men dressed as women, sometimes with surgically enhanced breasts, women dressed
as men, women consorting with women, and men with men. It's perverts
paradise! It's the serpent in the garden of Eden, and my fear is that if
it's not eliminated then the whole edifice will collapse."

"How on earth can letting a few people live their own lives possibly
cause any disaster..." wondered Binta.

"A pervert like you just can't understand why..."

"Well, you're passionate about going around in the buff. You think it's
a big deal, and what you like about Agdal is that it lets you do so.
Whereas I really don't think nudity's a big deal at all. I could quite
happily wear clothes if there were a better selection than there is here,
but I can't change my sexuality. For me, the attraction of Agdal isn't to
show my body off to everyone, like you do, but just to be able to lead a
normal contented life."

"The only way you can do that is by renouncing your unnatural
tendencies. How can you possibly think that there is anything normal or to
be contented about in lusting after other women? The whole idea makes me
feel rather unwell."

"Maybe so, but ..." began Binta, who evidently enjoyed arguing with
Ketaba, when she was quite suddenly interrupted by a loud persistent buzz.
She cursed under her breath and then frowned at Ketaba and Ana. "I'm
afraid my shift's due to start now. I'll have to ask you to leave."

"That's fine, Binta dear. A girl's got to do an honest day's work!"
smiled Ketaba as she stood up.

Ana stood up too. "Well, goodbye then."

"Goodbye, Ana," smiled Binta warmly who also stood up and kissed her
tenderly on the cheek, sending a frisson through Ana's body. She just
wasn't used to even the most innocent kisses back home, and she was very
aware of Binta's tastes. However, Ketaba also kissed Binta as they left,
so Ana concluded that this kissing reflected nothing more than casual
affection, and was bound to be commonplace in an institution like the
Brothel. As Ana and Ketaba left, she observed that the light above the
door was now set to green.

"So, what do you think of Binta?" asked Ketaba as they walked along the
corridor.

Ana didn't know what to say. She felt quite unsettled by their
conversation and by the continued presence of a naked woman. What was she
supposed to think? People weren't like this in Rif. "She seems all
right," she answered noncommittally.

"I wouldn't say that. Being homosexual, there's obviously something
wrong with her. I just hope she gets over it. What about you though?
When did you start working here?"

"I start tomorrow."

"Tomorrow! My! You are new to the Brothel! What do you think of it so
far?"

"It's bigger than I thought," Ana remarked awed by the extent of the
corridor punctuated by red, green and yellow lights. How would she ever
find her way out?

"Well, it's the biggest Brothel in the country, you know! Probably the
world. You should feel proud to be working at such a prestigious place.
And while you're here I really urge you to seriously consider a spell of
prostitution yourself. It's healthy, it's good money and it'll do you a
world of good..."

"No, I don't think so. I'm just a secretary. That's all I want to do
here..."

"That's what your predecessor, Inta, said at first. But she soon
changed her mind. Although she was only a Gamma Plus, she didn't do too
badly out of it. However, I'd be foolish to believe that you would have
any concrete idea of what you really want to do on your first day here.
I'm sure you'll see your way to a more active career." Ketaba paused as
they arrived at a stair-case. "Erm, I don't suppose you really know your
way round here yet. Do you know where you want to go?"

Ketaba escorted Ana to the foyer down a complex series of corridors and
stair- cases. She chatted away amiably, telling Ana about all the exciting
things to do in Blad: the cafes to visit, the theatres and the tourist
attractions. She interspersed her chat with references to the enjoyment
and satisfaction she got from her career and how Ana should at least
consider becoming a naturist. Ana only partly heard what Ketaba was
saying. Her thoughts retread her day so far, returning frequently to the
image of Binta lying on her bed waiting for the male clients she so
despised.

5

Ana began learning her secretarial duties, and finding her way around
the office and the software she had to use. There was a lot to learn and
her only guidance was some unspecific instructions from the Director such
as where she was to sit and what she was expected to produce, but her
college training had prepared her well, and she soon felt quite confident
in her work.

She felt rather less confidence when she ventured outside the office to
walk along the labyrinthine corridors to the canteen or to the toilet, but
although often horribly lost at first, she was now more concerned about her
embarrassment as she passed the scantily clothed employees. This included
Binta whom she met by chance while taking some documents to the centralised
photocopying room. As always she was totally undressed, and Ana blushed
quite visibly as she approached from the other end of the corridor.

"Fitting in well, I hope?" Binta wondered.

"Yes, thank you," Ana shyly answered. "I'm beginning to remember where
everything goes."

"I'm sure you are," mused Binta, dawdling by the fire door running her
fingers through her long hair. "Look...erm... do you want to come for a
swim after work?"

"A swim?"

"Yes, in the Brothel Baths. No one would mind you turning up."

"But I haven't brought a swimming costume with me."

Binta laughed. "You'd look pretty out of place in one of those, I can
tell you! This is a brothel, remember. No, Ana, you don't need a swimming
costume: just your sweet self. Come on! You haven't got anything else
lined up, have you?"

Ana had to admit she hadn't, so immediately after work she eventually
located the Brothel's swimming pool, which was closed off to the public and
accessible only to employees. As Ana could see before she made her way
into the changing area at the pool-side, there was definitely no need for
any kind of bathing costume. None of the half dozen or so girls splashing
about in the pool were wearing any more clothes than Binta who was floating
in the deep end with her hair fanning out around her, looking like an
exotic giant water-lily. Ana self-consciously took her clothes off,
uncomfortably aware that this was the first time she'd ever bared her slim
untanned body in public, and stood selfconsciously by the poolside.

Binta swam towards her, her back and buttocks obscured by a trail of
long hair. "Hi there! Come on in. The water's lovely and warm!"

Ana cautiously lowered herself down the steps into the pool, feeling the
distinct chill of water progressively lapping up her legs and thighs. Then
with the courage she knew she had to find, she surrendered her whole weight
to the water, braving the sting of chlorinated water on her eyes. Her head
and hair sank beneath the surface where she saw Binta's naked body glide
towards her. "This pool's one of the few things I'm grateful for here,"
laughed her friend when Ana's head surfaced. "It's to compensate for the
hard work we do, I suppose."

Ana regarded the other prostitutes, some of whom fastidiously swam with
their faces and bound-up hair out of the water so as not to smudge the
thick make-up or to get chlorine-scented locks. Ana span around and lay on
her back, looking up at the evening sunlight streaming through the
glass-covered ceiling. Binta was right: this was a very pleasant pool.
Perhaps she could come to enjoy working here.

As she righted herself to chat to her floating friend, she was suddenly
sprayed by a sudden wave caused by someone diving into the pool rather too
nearby. The pale body of the culprit descended to the very bottom of the
pool and then propelled itself like a torpedo to the surface.

"Why hello, Binta!" a child's face with very short boyish hair greeted
them. Ana was initially unsure whether this intruder was a boy or a girl.
The chest was very flat and there were very other few signs of gender, but
the girl's nudity couldn't disguise her sexual identity for long. She
bobbed around in the water chuckling and giggling with the childishness
suggested by her body. "So, Binta, who's your new friend?"

"Ana, the Director's new secretary," announced Binta. "She only started
a couple of days ago."

"Oh! Inta's replacement. Shame about her! Hi! My name's Zabba! It's
my real name as well! My parents had a strange sense of humour. Glad to
meet you. Are you new to Blad?"

"Yes, I am. It's all very different for me."

"I bet! And new to brothels as well, I imagine?"

"The ones where I come from don't offer full-time secretarial work,"
answered Ana, falsely suggesting that had they done otherwise she'd have
taken the opportunity of working at one. "What do you do?"

Zabba laughed, with an indecent lack of restraint. "What do you think?
This is a Brothel you know! I suppose I could just be a receptionist or a
cook or something, though I don't think they'd let me do jobs like that!
And they certainly wouldn't pay as well! No, Ana darling, I'm a
prostitute. Like your friend, Binta! What else could I be?"

Ana's cheeks burnt through the film of chlorinated water. She hated to
be reminded of the sordid aspects of where she worked. She still found it
difficult to reconcile the distasteful nature of the profession with the
actual practitioners.

"Zabba's actually quite high-grade as well," elaborated Binta, her arms
rotating to keep herself afloat. "She's an Alpha."

"Yes! I admit it!" the girl replied proudly. She lowered her arms to
let her body sink into the water. "And as you can see not for the most
obvious of reasons. I don't exactly have the classic Alpha grade figure,
with my teeny tits and slim thighs. But girls like me who look so much
younger than they are and (let's admit it!) look like little boys: we're in
great demand. That pushes up my grade a lot. I could never be an Alpha
Plus. You need more dedication, stamina and willing than I'll ever have.
But I'm quite content to be an Alpha. The pay's good and I'll be able to
retire at the age when most people are just starting their working lives."

"However much you earn, I'd much rather be me than you," Binta
commented, "Your clients have got the strangest obsessions."

Zabba smiled. "I get my fair share of perverts, I must admit," she
agreed, running a hand through her short damp crop of dark brown hair. "My
bottom gets ever so sore. You couldn't imagine! But you're only young once."

"And you look like you'll be young forever."

"Well, I am young. One day my looks just won't be marketable any more.
But I'm in this trade for the money and I don't have to do nearly as much
work as a Gamma or a Beta to earn tons more than they can."

"Well, infinitely more than me," sniffed Binta bitterly.

"I'm sorry, sweetest. I keep forgetting you're not here voluntarily.
And if I were only a Beta, I don't think I'd bother either. It'd hardly be
worth the effort. But for me: where else could I work at my age to afford
a luxury flat in the select Honey suburb and earn far more money than a
young girl knows what to do with? You've got to admit that those of us
who've got a lot to sell get a lot out of it!"

"If you can put up with all the abuse..."

"Not all of it's abuse, Binta darling. Some clients are actually quite
sweet, which even you'd admit if you weren't so dead set against men. But
let's be honest: I'd be ready to go through a lot more than this for the
lifestyle. The hours are great as well! I go clubbing all night and don't
have to worry about getting up like all the other girls working in this
city. And I don't believe the occasional sore bum is really such a bad
penalty. It's those who work in factories, supermarkets and restaurant
kitchens I feel sorry for. They get hardly nothing for what they do. And
gain nothing like the respect from their customers that I'm accustomed to."

"Is this what you always wanted to do?" Wondered Ana.

"Goodness no! I'll be out of this profession long before my sell-by
date. What I do next I really don't know. And I don't really want to
think about it. Growing old really depresses me. I hope I never have to
get older than my teens!"

Zabba abruptly broke away from Ana and Binta, and swam a length of the
baths. The other two followed behind, Ana enjoying the lash of the water
against her body as she kept pace. They arrived at the shallow end, where
Zabba stood to rub the water out of her eyes and to reveal where she shaved
to make her look even younger. Ana crouched down in the water, still too
shy to stand and openly display her body.

"What do you think of the Brothel, Ana?" Zabba wondered. "Do you share
Binta's negative opinions?" Ana nodded her head. "Well, you're new here,
and I'm sure you'll come to take a much more liberal view of it, like your
predecessor. Perhaps like her you'll be tempted to earn a bit of extra
money. Everyone loses their inhibitions after a while."

"I don't think that's such a good thing," opined Binta. "But even if
you weren't a prostitute, Zabba, you'd have a fairly active and varied sex
life."

"You want to bet!" the girl laughed. "What could be more fun? Sure.
Left to my own devices entirely there are pretty few of my clients, even
the regular ones, I'd ever contemplate if I didn't do it for a living. But
when you get fully immersed in it, there can't be anything more
fulfilling."

"Pah!" Binta disagreed. "It hasn't made me any more enthusiastic!"

"Well, Binta dear, you are an exception! Nobody could accuse you of
having a normal attitude towards sex."

"I really don't think that my preference in partners has any bearing
over what I think about prostitution in general. It's absolutely
abhorrent."

"I can't pretend to understand you, Binta, but you're probably quite
right. Many of my clients undoubtedly prefer boys to women. The number of
times I've had to pretend to be one myself! I'm sure you'd find that even
more disgusting. Perverse even, if you weren't yourself a homosexual. But
it's fairly harmless. And I'm sure the provision of my services spares
countless real boys attention they probably wouldn't appreciate. I am at
least a professional and know exactly what to expect."

"I don't believe that my sexual preferences make me likely to have any
more sympathy for men who lust after children. If there's any sexual
behaviour the government is quite right to make illegal, it's that..."

"Making it illegal doesn't stop it, you know," laughed Zabba. "It just
provides obstacles. And anyway Binta, sweetheart, if you knew some of
these men as well as I do, you'd be no more censorious towards them than
you'd want them to be towards you. My services are provided to sublimate
such desires in a socially acceptable way."

"Isn't what they do to you illegal?" wondered Ana contemplating Zabba's
groin and her references to a sore posterior.

"Sure it is!" laughed Zabba. She pinched a slim buttock with a hand.
"It doesn't stop them. And it doesn't prevent me providing the service
either. As long as they're willing to pay me that little extra that the
tax-man never knows about, I'm not going to complain about a service the
Brothel can never be seen to offer or condone. And those who're most keen
on that sort of thing and the ones who most like me to dress like a little
school-boy and avert their eyes from what truly distinguishes me from a
boy: they're the ones who are the most publicly vehemently opposed to
homosexuality and what they deem immoral sexual acts. But why should I
care!"

Zabba dipped her hands into the water and desultorily splashed water
over her incompletely formed body. "However, unlike you Binta, when I've
done a day's work, I don't have to stay here all night. I have my own home
to go to and friends to go out with. So, if you don't mind, I'll be off
now." She leaned over to Binta and kissed her tenderly on each cheek, and
then repeated the compliment on Ana, who discovered for the first time how
short Zabba was. Only the relative maturity of her conversation made her
seem at all adult. Zabba left Ana and Binta swimming slowly up to the
other end of the pool: Binta on her back and Ana more cautiously facing
forward.

"Zabba's very odd, isn't she?" Ana commented.

"Odd? Why? Because of what she looks like?"

Ana hadn't really meant that. "I suppose that's one way. No. I mean
her attitude towards prostitution. I really thought that most prostitutes
would absolutely hate it, like you."

Binta tread water to keep afloat. "I can't speak for all the girls here. They have all sorts of attitudes. Some like Zabba quite enjoy it for
one reason or another. Some detest it, and those who are convicted
prisoners like me are going to hate it the most. After all, I didn't
exactly volunteer to work here. The majority though are probably somewhere
in between. A job they do for the money. Or which has enough good points
to seem good enough for not doing something else. You can't be sure how
honest most prostitutes are, the ones who do it by choice, that is. Some
who hate it will pretend otherwise it to justify their choice of career.
And some who quite like it will claim to hate it to retain some kind of
self-respect. However, Zabba is quite right: it's a much better career for
the higher grade. Alphas like Bezaffa and Zabba make good money, and they
know they'll be able to retire on it. Even Betas like myself are generally
respected by the clients. But the Deltas and Epsilons: it must be
extraordinarily disheartening. They get the worst salaries, probably don't
have the choice of another career and get the most abusive and unsavoury
clients." Binta wiped her nose with the back of a hand. "But don't listen
to Zabba when she says you should contemplate prostitution as a career.
You would be the very last person to enjoy Zabba's lifestyle. You're
better off as you are. If it was so wonderful, why did your predecessor
leave in such a hurry?"

"Is it only prostitutes who have liberal views like Zabba's?"

"Of course not! But those who do don't necessarily want to become
prostitutes. There was a girl Mezyana and I knew who was visiting Jebel
who was a lot like Zabba in many ways. Well, not physically. There can't
be very many people in the whole world with a body like hers. Her name was
Azhnia, from which you can guess she wasn't an Alif girl. Her country is
quite rich and although she always claimed to be broke she always seemed to
be quite well off. It must be something to do with the exchange rate. God
knows why she was in such a remote place as Jebel, but she claimed to love
the countryside and its slow pace of life."

"What country did she come from?"

"Gharab, I think. Somewhere where they speak the same language.
Mezyana and I were really envious of her country. Homosexuality and
alcohol are legal, as are plenty of other things I could never imagine
being legal here. They have films with people having sex in them, some of
which she said were filmed in Alif. You can openly buy all sorts of drugs,
but you have to pay tax on them, of course. People are much freer in what
they can say and write. They don't have to be careful about saying
something the government mightn't like. It sounded wonderful to us, I can
tell you: always having to be careful about revealing our relationship."

"How did you meet her?"

"Mezyana and I were never really very sociable. We only met her by
chance in the countryside when we were looking for a place to enjoy
ourselves together. We were certainly not looking for other company. But
as we were climbing up the hills, we came across this strange girl in
leather clothes and short hair dyed a bizarre mix of blue and black. She
was reading a book on a rock, and greeted us as we passed. Mezyana didn't
really want to chat, but I was really curious to know something about her.
I didn't know there were people in the world who dressed like that. You
never find out about foreign fashions from the magazines or television
programs. She had a peculiar accent, and we had great difficulty in
understanding some of what she said. She was travelling in Alif and
staying in a hostel near Quria. She said the hostel was really boring and
she got fed up with how much people stared at her. At home, she said,
nobody would look twice at someone dressed like her."

"Is that true?" speculated Ana, who had never really thought of how
foreigners might dress.

"I can't believe that everyone wears such tight leather clothes as her,
but she said there were people there who dressed a lot more outrageously.
After all, there's no law to prevent them. As she didn't know anyone in
Jebel, we got to know her a lot better. She had views about sex and so on
that we found rather shocking. It was quite titillating as well of course.
She always had these stories about her boyfriends and her sexual activity
which I'm afraid we found very exciting. But the nicest thing about
knowing her, I think, was that we found someone to whom we could confess
our relationship, and who accepted it as what it was. It was good to know
that there were people who not only didn't disapprove of lesbianism, but
almost actively endorsed it. It was good to feel accepted like that."

Binta frowned, and then, without warning, swam away towards the edge of
the pool. Ana hovered for a moment in the centre, and then swam leisurely
towards her. Binta's memories of Jebel must have upset her. Binta leaned
on the pool-side bar watching her long legs cycle in the water, her hair
spreading around. She continued as if there'd been no break in the
conversation when Ana caught up with her.

"I feel guilty thinking about Azhnia. I suppose it was the excitement
of her liberating conversation, but it wasn't long until I learnt that
Azhnia wasn't just interested in boys and the two of us..." Binta paused as
she struggled to express herself. "Well, we soon got to be a little too
close. My one episode of infidelity to Mezyana. Or one of several
episodes to be honest: all with Azhnia. Not that my love for Mezyana was
any less. It just seemed such an exhilarating and emancipating thing:
having a relationship with another girl. I never told Mezyana, and Azhnia
would never tell her either. And even though I felt really rotten at the
time, I still went back to her for more. Now that I'm parted from Mezyana
in this horrid place, I feel even worse that the only person I've ever
truly loved, the one for whose love I am suffering so much, and who is also
suffering for it ... I feel so low and deceitful and really no better than
the slut that I've become!"

Binta was weeping, tears lost in the dampness of her face. Embarrassed,
Ana hovered by, not knowing what to say or do. Her new friend lowered her
face under her cascading curtain of hair and softly sobbed.

"I know Mezyana would forgive me if she were to find out. She's like
that! So charitable and understanding. All that Christian business of
only seeing the best in other people. That doesn't make it any easier:
because I can never forgive myself. And I can't blame Azhnia. She was
only doing what was natural to the mores of her own country. I am the only
one to blame; and however enjoyable it seemed at the time, and however
easily I got away with it, doesn't excuse me at all!"

Binta gazed into Ana's sympathetic eyes. "I'm sorry to burden you with
all this..."

"That's all right..." Ana tried to say with as much sincerity as she
could. She was slightly disturbed by the content of Binta's confessions,
but also flattered to be confided in so soon in their friendship. "I'm
sure it's good for you to..."

"Thank you! Thank you!" Binta said with a brave smile. She briefly
kissed Ana on the lips and, before Ana could respond, lifted herself out of
the pool and stood high above her on the edge. "I must go now! I've been
swimming for long enough. But perhaps we can come back for a swim another
day?"

"Gladly!" Ana replied, looking up at Binta, her arms supporting herself
on the poolside. The two girls chatted on fairly trivial matters for a few
more minutes, while Binta dried herself with a long Brothel-issue towel.
Soon she left, and Ana floated on her back for a long time, recounting her
conversation and revelling in the satisfaction of making friends with
someone so soon in the forbidding loneliness of the city. Ana imagined
that Binta had only left so soon to return to work. She waved to Binta as
she passed along the glass walkway overlooking the pool, suddenly wincing
as she recollected what Binta's work actually entailed.

6

Ana was gradually becoming more accustomed to her new life in the big
city. It no longer seemed such an overpoweringly threatening place as it
did on her first arrival. The city of Blad was still a great mystery on
the whole but she felt fairly confident of the geography of the Jadid
Quarter where she had been provided with a flat, and she knew all she
needed to get to work in the city centre. The bus stop was only yards from
the main entrance to the block of flats, and benefited from a shelter
which, at this time of the year, served mostly to keep the sun off Ana and
other commuters as they waited for the bus. Unfortunately, she didn't live
near enough to the bus depot to avoid having to stand all the way on most
of her journeys to work, but a little bit of discomfort like that was
nothing compared to the gain of having a job.

Around her block of flats were many others almost identical, all the
statutory maximum height of six storeys allowed before an escalator needed
to be installed, and through the windows of which were flats of much the
same design as Ana's own. She was in awe of the magnificent amount of
space she had: more than the two floors of her parents' home. Her bedroom
had an enormous double bed she could sleep in without hunching up her body.
Her kitchen was ready supplied with a cooker, a microwave and a
fridge-freezer. She even had a front-loading washing machine with which
she had a disastrous time trying to get working properly. The most
luxurious aspect was the fully-furnished living room in which there was a
table, some chairs and even a television. And so much space! So much
unoccupied air. Ana felt incredibly privileged. And all provided free as
part of her contract of work with the Blad State Brothel! She'd never have
been able to afford a flat nearly as well-appointed otherwise.

She stood by the living room window over a small balcony just large
enough for her to peg her clothes to dry after she'd mastered the
washing-machine. Down below was a network of clean well-paved roads and a
shop opposite which sold almost everything from light-bulbs and lentils to
radios and radishes. A huddle of older women stood at the bus stop just by
a policeman in a dark green uniform, smoking a cigarette. Radiating out
for a few hundred yards were similar streets, the occasional small church
and a small patch of grass where children could play. It seemed so
comfortable and ordinary to Ana that she sometimes forgot she'd not always
lived in a place like this.

One prominent feature of the living room was a long full-length mirror
in which she could examine her reflection. At first she worried that the
mirror might be connected to a network of cameras and viewing screens, like
the one in Binta's room at the Brothel, but she soon satisfied herself,
after poking around its perimeter with a knife, that there was no real
likelihood that it could be anything other than a normal mirror. Ana stood
in front of it, wearing only a towel round her body which she had used to
dry herself after a long relaxing rest in the bath. She smiled sadly at
herself, relishing her reflection's corresponding smile.

She peered around through the window to confirm no one could see her and
let her towel slip to her knees. She had never seen her naked body in its
entirety before. Having seen so many naked or near naked bodies recently
she was curious to see how she compared. She concluded that she had a nice
face: not startlingly pretty, but still nice. A little thin perhaps, like
the rest of her, but her eyes were large even if her lips weren't at all
prominent. Her lank fair hair fell onto her shoulders, even more lank than
usual as it was still damp from her bath. She was slim. Her breasts and
hips had never really blossomed with adulthood quite as much as some girls at the Brothel, certainly not as much as Binta's.

How would she compare with a Beta Plus like Binta? She was sure she
could never be considered more attractive, although much of Binta's
physical beauty (she blushed to find herself using such terms) came less
from her body than how she carried it. She radiated greater
self-confidence and bearing without clothes, than Ana could fully dressed.
She imagined Binta walking along the corridors of the Brothel with a
confident unselfconscious stride; Binta swimming breast-stroke in the
swimming pool, her buttocks clearly visible through the water; and Binta
sitting opposite her at the canteen table, her breasts just inches away
from her fingers. Fingers which could easily stretch over and stroke her
elegantly shaped nipples and feel the curve of her bosom. And, Ana
couldn't help wondering, would Binta actually enjoy that?

Although Binta came from the countryside much as Ana did, Jebel sounded
very different from her descriptions of its hills and mountains (and rather
more exciting) than the broad agricultural plains of Rif, bounded by
distant hills and mountains. Her village of Biyat was such an ordinary
place, - serviced by a small shop, a few irregular buses and a church, -
that could claim several uneventful centuries of history. Like all the
others in the village, her parents' cottage had more space in the garden
than inside, where most of the vegetables they ate were grown. Her father worked at a factory several miles away and left for work very early in the
morning in a beaten-up van jointly owned by himself and several of his
colleagues. He rarely got home much before seven in the evening. Her
mother supplemented their living by forever knitting and stitching clothes.
Ana was considered very much the bright star of the family for having
attained a college qualification, and there was little shame attached to
her inability to find work other than in the city of Blad. Most young people in Biyat were either unemployed or like Ana had little choice but to
find work elsewhere.

Life in her village was very uneventful and was no less so at the small
town where she had attended college. There was little for a