Chapter 13

Ketaba's flat was situated in a very plush block in the Honey district, adorned by spacious balconies, views across a large park and a concierge sitting in a cabin by the entrance who called Ketaba on the internal phone when Ana arrived. She waited in the foyer, her arms folded, awed by the magnificence of the marble walls and the beauty of the little fountain splashing at the foot of the marble steps.

"You can go up," the concierge advised her. "It's the third floor. On the right as you leave the lift."

Ana trotted up the steps and into the wide-open lift door, which closed as she entered. She adjusted her hair in the reflection of the lift's mirrors. She felt slightly nervous visiting Ketaba at her own home. The only other home she'd ever visited in Blad was Binta's in the Brothel which was now as much home to her as her own flat. The Honey district impressed her. The avenues were wide and lined with palm trees and conifers. The houses were quite simply magnificent: larger than any she'd ever seen before, but protected by high walls, barbed wire and broken glass. She was dressed casually - a light floral dress and sandals - and felt poorly dressed in comparison to the ostentation of the women she passed.

Ketaba was waiting for her in the corridor when Ana stepped out of the lift. She was totally naked as always, but still oblivious to any incongruity between her appearance and her environment. She grinned broadly. "I'm so glad you could come! I've been preparing a vegetarian meal for us! Come in! Come in!"

Ana was slightly overwhelmed by the enthusiasm of Ketaba's welcome, but she smiled and followed Ketaba into her flat. It was much larger than Ana's. Indeed it was larger than most houses. The several rooms were spacious and had more than a touch of expense lavished on them. Varnished floorboards were covered by densely woven and intricately patterned carpets. The furniture was plush and inviting, interspersed by expensive electronic equipment. Original paintings framed those stretches of wall not devoted to bookshelves which heaved under the weight of Ketaba's considerable library.

Ketaba's interests were evident everywhere. In one room there was exercise equipment to keep her figure trim and muscular. Ana gingerly felt the weight of some bell-bars left on the floor and found them rather too heavy to lift. The paintings concentrated on spiritual or sensual matters. The books were on subjects like Astrology, Self-Awareness and Physical Exercise, although Ana was interested to see that Ketaba's taste encompassed such unlikely subjects as Quantum Physics, Political Philosophy and Abstract Expressionism. The compact discs displayed covers of peculiarly photographed outdoor scenes suggestive of spiritual enlightenment and discovery.

"You don't have to keep your clothes on, Ana," Ketaba said soothingly, pinching the strap on Ana's shoulder. "Most people take them off when they're at home with me."

"I'm sorry?" wondered Ana, slightly bemused. She became belatedly aware that Ketaba was asking her to undress. She had got so used to seeing Ketaba and Binta, she had actually forgotten that they were habitually naked. This didn't oblige her to do the same thing. "Er ... I'd rather not!"

"Suit yourself!" Ketaba replied, clearly disconcerted by Ana's rebuff.

"It's just I'm not a naturist. Whatever Binta is, it doesn't mean that I'm the same."

"No, it doesn't," Ketaba agreed, smiling again. "Well, let's sit down, clothes or no clothes, and wait for dinner to be ready."

Ana sat on a large luxurious armchair, while Ketaba hovered around her audio system. "What would you like to hear?" She asked. "Classical? Jazz? Ambient?"

"I don't mind. Something relaxing I suppose."

Ketaba knelt on the floor and sorted through her compact discs. She selected some haunting atmospheric piano music accompanied by orchestra.

"Does this meet with your approval?"

"It sounds very nice."

Ketaba sheepishly rushed off into the kitchen without a word. After a moment, she returned with a bottle of clear liquid. There was a curious golden wrapping around the top and a crest on a label written in a foreign language.

"Do you know what this is, Ana?"

Ana shook her head, although she had a very good suspicion.

"It's a bottle of wine from Agdal. I didn't buy it in Agdal, of course. It would've been found at customs and I'd be in prison now. I bought it from a friend of Ferhana's. Normally, of course, I disapprove of alcohol. Making it illegal is one of President Marmeluke's better policies. Frequent use is undoubtedly very harmful, and I'd be the last to recommend anything bad for the body or soul. But there can't be any harm in sampling it occasionally. What do you think?"

"I don't know. I've never come across alcohol before. Doesn't it make you hallucinate and become violent?"

"I'm sure it does if you drink enough of it. You see plenty of evidence in Agdal of the dangers of over-indulgence. But I've been tempted to drink the odd glass when I've been on holiday there and although it does have quite a strange effect it has never made me hallucinate. And in Alif, it's so very expensive on the black market that it wouldn't be possible for someone to 'get drunk', as they call it, unless they were much richer than me. I won't even tell you how much this cost me! But wine goes down very well with a meal. Are you tempted to try?"

Ana was definitely tempted. Having broken one law in Alif, she could really see no reason why she couldn't break others. It wasn't just the illegality of alcohol that troubled her. "Won't it make me ill? I don't want to be poisoned."

"A little alcohol won't do that. Do you want to taste it and see what you think?"

"Why not!" smiled Ana mischievously. Perhaps she'd get to like it. Ketaba produced a very curious contraption that looked like a screw supported by a metal frame, which she inserted into the bottle's top after tearing off the thin gold metal covering. She screwed it in and pulled out a length of spongy wood. She then poured the contents into some straight glasses that were sitting on the dining table. She handed one to Ana who took a tentative sip.

"It's very cold. And it tastes very peculiar, a bit like fruit juice," Ana commented. She relished the cool sharpness in her mouth, wondering when she would experience its effects. The room hadn't started spinning yet and there were no hallucinations. Perhaps alcohol wasn't so bad after all.

"It's Chardonnay, I think it's called. Wines have all got strange names. Like Champagne, Beaujolais, Rosé. Experts in wine are called connoisseurs. But I'm no expert. In Alif, if you want to buy alcohol you just have to make do with whatever happens to be available. And I wouldn't want to buy whisky, gin or rum. Drinks like that are much stronger."

"Does alcohol vary in strength then?"

"And in taste as well," Ketaba agreed. "In countries where alcohol is legal there is an extraordinary variety available. Do you like it?"

"I'm not sure," admitted Ana who nonetheless dutifully sipped her glass. Ketaba picked up her glass and took a long swig from it, before disappearing again into the kitchen. She was away quite a few minutes, while Ana contemplated the wine. It made her feel very daring. Were there many more laws in Alif left to break, she wondered. She began to notice a strange effect but wasn't sure whether she should attribute it to alcohol or just a general giddiness due to the excitement of travelling to Honey. She idly studied the books on Ketaba's bookshelf, occasionally taking small cautious sips from her glass.

"Here we are!" announced Ketaba, carrying a tray with two plates and several side-dishes. "Dinner is served!"

Ana replaced the book on mountain-climbing and took her seat at the dinner table. Ketaba placed the food down and busied herself in organising the atmosphere. She turned off all the lights except for two table-lamps and lit the tall candles on the table. She slightly lowered the volume of the audio system and lit a few joss-sticks. The two women tucked into the meal, which Ana found surprisingly tasty. She'd forgotten that the food was vegetarian and it was only later that she'd reflected that there hadn't been any meat involved in the preparation. The salad was particularly pleasant: so much crisper and tastier than the soggy affairs she'd eaten in the Brothel canteen. Ketaba was also right about the wine. The food tasted better for it, and the wine seemed somehow more appropriate with food.

"You seem to get on very well with Binta," Ketaba remarked chewing on a celery stalk.

Ana wasn't sure how to react to that remark. "What do you mean?" She blurted out. Was she being condemned for her love?

"I'm sorry, Ana. I don't mean to upset you. I was just saying that you and Binta are getting on very well. I know she's a lesbian, and I suppose it's inevitable that she would try to lead you into her bad ways. I've met several lesbians in Agdal, and although I still think it's a rather perverse activity, I have to admit that as people lesbians aren't necessarily any worse than anyone else. What do you think?"

"They're just ordinary people, I'm sure."

"And you don't mind Binta being a dyke at all?"

Ana shook her head vehemently.

"I probably sound very naïve but is it true what I thought when I saw you in bed with Binta the other day? You know that she and you are ... you know ... not just friends?"

"You could say that!" said Ana with a smile despite herself. She took a longer drink of wine. Somehow she seemed to need its extra fortification. She was sure now that the slight detachment from her environment and the light-headedness she was feeling was associated with the drug. It also made her less worried about whatever Ketaba might think about her relationship with Binta. "We're in love. It's very beautiful."

Ketaba visibly blushed, and required more alcohol which she poured from the bottle into both her and Ana's nearly empty glasses. "Love truly moves in mysterious ways. I still can't see how it can be possible to be in love with someone of the same sex as yourself. It's the most obvious perversion. Sex wasn't designed for that. If it were, nobody would ever have children."

"It's not that Binta's a woman that I love her..."

"Are you saying you'd love her if she were a man?" Ketaba wondered thoughtfully.

Ana considered that view. She viewed Binta in her mind's eye. The beautiful smooth skin. The roundness of her feminine contours. The beauty of her face. She tried substituting an image of a man for that of Binta, but somehow this didn't compensate at all. There was something specific about Binta as a woman as well as her being so beautiful in so many other ways that had attracted Ana to her in the first place. Ana hadn't really thought about this too much before, but perhaps not only was she involved in a lesbian relationship she was actually a lesbian herself.

"I don't think Binta's gender's got anything to do with it," Ana lied.

"You're just too easily led, Ana dear!" smiled Ketaba indulgently, holding her glass in front of her face and looking through it at her companion. "Binta is obviously congenitally unbalanced. Perhaps she inherited her homosexuality. Perhaps she had some unfortunate experiences when she was a child. I suppose we ought to be sympathetic to her plight, and hope that there may be some way in which she can be cured. What do you think?"

"There's nothing wrong with Binta at all! I don't think there's anything wrong with homosexuality! I don't see why people can't be in love with whoever they like without being told they shouldn't. I think love is an important and special thing. It should be treasured and valued, not condemned. The one who is wrong is the government who makes it illegal. It's not fair on people like Binta. It's not fair on me!"

Ketaba saw that the turn of conversation had become a little heated. She put her arm across the table and patted Ana on the back of her hand.

"I didn't mean to upset you. I can see you're very much in love. Even if it is to a dyke like Binta!"

After the meal was finished, Ketaba cleared away the dishes and was very insistent that Ana shouldn't even contemplate washing them.