I have no idea how long we sit around waiting. It feelslike forever, but the sun stays in about the same place in the sky. Eventually Bandana Man comes back, looking less angry than before.
“Well?” says Sid.
Bandana Man shrugs. “I found their trail easily. Followed it back a kilometre or so. Just two sets of tracks. If anyone is following them, they’re way back and we should get out of here before they catch up.”
“Great.” Sid pulls his walkie-talkie from his vest and clicks the button. “James, you found anything?”
“Haven’t seen shite,” comes the crackly voice.
“Then get back here. Silas found their trail. We’re leaving as soon as you’re back.”
“Brilliant.”
“On your feet.” It takes me a second, but I eventually realize that Sid Charles is addressing us. As April and I stand, Bandana Man passes him a clipboard from one of his bags. Sid thanks him, clicks a pen, then turns a grim, approximation of a smile on me. “Welcome to Salt Spring Island and her Gulf Island Territories, a legacy nation of the Dominion of Canada. What is the purpose of your visit?”
“What?” That was far too many words for such a small island.
“Why do you want to come to Salt Spring?”
“Oh. We told you that. The hospital.”
“Great.” He marks something off on the clipboard. I go up on my toes, trying to see what he’s doing, but he’s so damn tall, he can easily hold it beyond me. He eyes me warily, then continues his spiel. “The hospital is open to all Salt Spring Island nationals and members of allied nations. If you are not currently a member of an allied nation, you are eligible for Sanctuary Seeker status, granting you provisional access to the hospital. Are you a member of an allied nation or are you seeking sanctuary?”
“We’re just trying to go to the hospital.”
“I got that. Where are you from?” The way he switches between legal babble and more ordinary speech makes it clear he’s done this before.
“Well… nowhere, really. We’re nomads.” Some of his earlier words about allied nations start to click into place. “Is that a problem? Do we have to be allies already to use the hospital?”
“Not necessarily. Are you seeking sanctuary?”
“What the hell doesthatmean?”
“Are you looking for a safe place to live?”
April mutters a tentative “yes”. I snort at the question. I mean, who isn’t? Unfortunately, safe places don’t exist anymore. But I think I’m getting the idea of what he—or rather, the authority he represents—wants from us, so I force myself to smile.
“Yes, Sid Charles. We are sanctuary seekers. We would likesanctuaryat your hospital.”
“Okay, great.” He checks off more things on the clipboard. Some of the tension I’m carrying in my shoulders eases as I realize that it’s happening. We’re getting what we want. “You’ll be required to wear masks until the doctor is certain you aren’t contagious. There’s one on board, and he’ll perform an initial assessment.”
“Really?” That sounds too good to be true. “You brought one?”
“Yeah, they come on all these immigration calls,” he says, packing the clipboard away. “Mostly because you nomads always come with a shitload of health problems. But also, in case someone tries to kill the guards. So I guess we both get to see the doctor today.”
“I wasn’t trying to—never mind.”
“Once we reach port, I’ll arrange for an immigration officer to meet you and sort out your sanctuary case.” Sid’seyes snap to something in the distance. When I turn, it’s to see the third guy jogging toward us. “Right, time to go. I’ll need you to surrender any weapons now. Failure to do so will result in your sanctuary case being denied.”
This time I don’t need him to clarify.
“That isn’t fair. You have guns.”
Like he said earlier, my slingshot and knives don’t count for much against guns, but I’m loath to give them up all the same.
“No, it isn’t fair.” He stubs his cigarette out on the side of the barrel. “But you want to visit our hospital, so you’re going to do what makesusfeel safe.”
I want to argue further, but April is already opening her bag and handing over everything right down to the kitchen knives.
