On the Other Side. The Fall. Janet Norton

despite the fact that living standards in all of the APEP cities was above average due to years of economic growth. APEP symbolized a unified management and a unified approach to solving many urgent issues, with the provision of housing, education and work always among them. Therefore, the refugees were quite eager to cross the Alliance border in order to be safe, comfortable and prosperous.

      When the immigrant aid policy had first begun, most APEP residents hadn’t anticipated the scale of the war with terrorists who used any means and methods to seize power in the poorly protected cities of the south. Due to the war, new borders appeared wherever the armed forces of APEP and the scattered southern countries fought against terrorists on different sides of the barricades. But the cultural contradictions turned out to be more dangerous than the border clashes. The Alliance tried to treat newcomers with understanding, but traditions and national values gradually morphed from a source of pride and mutual respect to a cause for street fights, serious crimes and rallies near the Parliament walls.

      The changes in the laws were an example of the worsening public welfare and trust between citizens. When James Brent first prepared to become a policeman, law enforcement officers were given new dark blue police uniforms, which included an elongated jacket made of an impenetrable bullet-proof material, and were allowed to use weapons at their own discretion in extreme cases when the health and lives of law-abiding citizens were threatened. Since then, police officers were avoided like the plague, since under another law, only they had the right to carry arms within the APEP capital. Linton changed greatly, ceasing to be a place of dreams and real prosperity and turning, in fact, into a besieged city. Many Linton residents were so afraid that they would share the unenviable fate of the APEP border areas where the refugees settled, that they began to treat even those visitors whom they had known for years with indignity.

      After entering the service, James eventually got used to the continuous flow of crime reports. He repeatedly broke up dangerous and escalating disputes between Linton citizens and immigrants, often risking his own health. And on lucky days, he managed to arrive on the scene before any useless fights or potential bloodshed occurred. The identification of regular people through electronic police glasses, and the detailed inquiries were enough for the citizens to come to their senses and feel the invisible hand of the law.

      While James watched the appointed sector, the noticeable changes eventually and subconsciously saddened him. Children rarely played on the streets anymore, there were few passers-by in the public places, and holiday walks often turned into clashes. As the cloudy autumn began, the general mood became just as gloomy, and no one noticed the bright colors of the gardens and public parks, carefully tended by the city services.

      Passing by one of the parks lit by the evening light of the street lamps, James saw a small group of teenagers who suddenly scattered in different directions upon seeing the police car. With a gloomy look on his face James parked at the curb, quickly got out of the car and saw a battered dark-skinned boy, no older than ten, lying at the entrance to the park. The older children had smashed his lip and cut his brow. While trying to help the boy stand back up, James withdrew his hand as the child abruptly recoiled in horror and pressed himself against the park fence. There were holes in his old worn clothes, and dirt had long ago morphed his white sneakers into a pitiful resemblance of shoes. But James was mostly touched by the adult gaze in his brown eyes. The boy was hurt, but he did not cry, and, despite his condition, was not going to simply trust the stranger, even one wearing a police uniform. Checking his identity through the scanner glasses could further scare the injured boy, and James opted for another approach, squatting down in front of him.

      “What a spirit! You’ve withstood their blows pretty well,” James said confidently. “If any of them had been on the receiving end, they’d be crying like babies.”

      The boy was still breathing heavily, but seemed to calm down as a lively spark flashed in his brown eyes. Noticing the changes in the child’s mood, James smiled shortly and again extended a hand to the boy to help him up.

      “You’re bleeding, and I’ve got some first aid in my car so your wounds won’t get infected,” James said.

      It took some time, but the boy eventually took the hand, got to his feet and followed James to his car, cautiously looking around. Some people stared disdainfully at them from the windows of nearby houses and one housewife, flashing threatening honey-colored eyes, loudly complained when she realized the policeman was helping the boy instead of arresting him. Even the passers-by walking at a distance turned to them with curiosity and unconcealed contempt, and the boy felt uncomfortable. Meanwhile James ignored the malevolent glances, though he clearly felt them. He opened the car door and confidently pointed the child to the passenger seat. He jumped in and settled himself facing James on the street. All at once he forgot about the unpleasant looks and began to study the control panel with great interest.

      “What is your name?” James asked, pulling out a first-aid kit with a sparkling inscription Innogen.

      “Farai,” the boy answered, looking closely at James and the antiseptic which he used to patch up his cut lip and bruised eyebrow.

      “My name is James… Be patient, it will pass in a minute,” James said, worrying that the child would race off to avoid the pain.

      “It’s not the first time I’ve fought,” Farai smiled.

      “Well, since it’s not the first time, that means we’ll have something to talk about on your way back home,” James said in an instructive tone, putting the first-aid kit back in its place. “Buckle up!”

      James closed the door, walked around the car and got behind the wheel.

      “Where do you live?” James asked, watching the road as he pulled the car away.

      “At the orphanage,” Farai said. “I wanted to raise money to buy food for myself and others in the park, but I didn’t get a chance.”

      “Raise money?” James was surprised. “The orphanages have financing, so you should have plenty of food and clothes…”

      “Our orphanage was supported by charity… But not anymore,” Farai said with a shrug, looking out the window at the city. James looked at the boy and shook his head slightly, continuing to follow the road.