Fantasy Island

Fantasy Island

"This is the final call for passengers boarding Flight KG246 to Utopia.
Will all remaining passengers make their way to Gate seven immediately.
Please ensure you have your boarding cards available for immediate
inspection."

Katie does not hear this. She is already fastened tightly in her
cut-price seat. Wedged between the window and a child who won't take
responsibility for his limbs. His sharp flailing legs stab the seat in
front of him. The garish check of red and orange airline livery
vibrates with every hit.
"Stop that Ronan." She glances towards the voice. A thin-lipped woman
is trying to fasten down her fractious child whilst keeping her face
away from his dancing feet. A thin limb ending with an old fashioned
sandal cuts across Katie's vision before disappearing.
"Shan't".
"You'll get a smack." Katie turns to the window; the grey runway framed
by a spray painted metal zero stares back at her. She can still hear
the thud of leather clad toes on thin upholstery. The sharp sound of
stinging flesh stops the onslaught. Katie feels a brief smile of smug
satisfaction welling inside before it is rapidly drowned by Ronan's
wailing.
"You got kids?" The thin-lipped woman asks over muffled sobs
"No."
"More trouble than they're worth. Still," she pauses, her hardened face
looks Katie up and down, "you're only young, plenty of time eh? I don't
s'pose you're much older than me." She peers at Katie, as if trying to
draw a response from her, asking for precious secrets that Katie does
not want to give up. Katie looks beneath the tiredness and tense body
language and sees a woman barely out of her teens. How old was she,
twenty-one, twenty-two maybe? Not many years between them. Katie smiles
thinly; there is too much distance for her to want to start a
meaningless conversation with someone she will never know.

Katie decides feigning sleep is the politest rebuff. She shuts her eyes
once they are in the air. Murmurs from other passengers spill over the
airline seats like the overflow from a forgotten sink. Words flow as
conversations rise up to her ears then recede to be replaced by the
next wave.
"Of course, we're going fully inclusive," one woman, announces grandly.
Katie can picture her, smearing gravy over her plump child's face. Her
eyes watch for approval whilst her hand rubs brown liquid deeper into
her child's skin. Her other hand grasps an economy pack of travel
wipes.
"Oh, we thought we might emigrate." A man's voice answers, "We've been
twice before; love the place."

She rolls her head to the left; her eyes open to slits to peer out at
the clouds, which cushion the plane. Empty conversations ebb and flow
around her. Soft white clouds cocoon the plane from the rest of
existence. She shuts her eyes and thinks of those she is leaving
behind. That night on the news there'd be reports; robbery, corruption,
murder, more civil unrest. The opposition parties were rapidly gaining
power and support from high-ranking sources. They'd gained access to
presses and transportation. A weekly underground publication could be
read if you knew where to look and who to ask. The government's grip on
law and order was becoming increasingly threatened. Retribution for any
deviation from the moral code was swift and firm.
Was it any wonder people saved up their holiday credits for years to
come here? They could have gone to one of the government holiday camps;
two whole weeks with approved entertainment for one year's accrued
credits.
The government always chose the most scenic settings for these camps.
It was a good election winner, besides it always kept the majority in
line, the promise of adhering to policy for suitable rewards. Extra
credits were always awarded for good behaviour, productivity and
informing on non-compliant neighbours. It was not uncommon for some
families to manage six weeks worth of holidays. Bonus credits also
allowed the opportunity to travel between different sectors of Europa.
Katie sighed resignedly and cupped her stomach.

"You alright love?" The woman pounces on a possible conversational
opening; her thin talons reach over Ronan and grip Katie's wrist.
"You're not," she nods her head towards her stomach, "you know?"
"No." Katie watches the disbelief creep into her preying eyes. "I hate
flying; makes me sick, so do the tablets they give me for
nerves."
"Oh," the grip on her wrist loosened, "You sure you're okay?"
"Fine." Katie gave a watery smile and closed her eyes. "That's why I
always try and sleep if I ever fly."

A halo of sun crept through the window and stroked her into a false
sleep. "Katie, Katie, can you see?" Her father touched her shoulder and
pointed above. A hawk circled overhead, dipping and soaring on the
thermals. Katie watched, waiting for something, unsure of what she was
meant to see. The hawk swooped and dropped vertically to the ground.
She watched it touch on the thick undergrowth before launching itself
upwards. "Look Katie, it'll dine well tonight." She watched the small
bundle of flesh and fur wriggling unsuccessfully for its life. No
mercy.

She was conscious of the woman continuing to stare at her. Katie felt
uncomfortable. The resistance motto was tattooed in her brain. Order
must be kept at all times; trust no one. A single woman travelling with
a child was uncommon; families were encouraged to holiday together.
Katie pitied the field mouse, knowing death could be overhead at any
time. Safety was not guaranteed until her feet were safely on foreign
soil. Utopia was the closest destination. Switzerland had long
relinquished its neutrality and become absorbed into Europa's web.
Utopia was what kept them alive, the dream that somewhere individuality
and inspiration were still prized and sought after.

Katie mentally checks her bag for her documents. Passport, ticket,
money, travel permit, health card. Only approved citizens were allowed
outside Europa. All applicants were rigorously screened for disease,
criminal activities, drug abuse, unapproved pregnancy; unapproved
citizens would show the outside world that the government's carefully
enforced program had its flaws. No weaknesses could be shown; they
would only add weight to their detractors' arguments.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, we will shortly be landing at Thomas More
Airport. Please make sure all cigarettes are extinguished and your
safety belts are securely fastened."

Katie crosses her fingers as the plane began its descent; as much for
those she'd left behind as for herself. The punishment for aiding a
resistance leader's escape was death. Leif had reminded her of this
when he handed her the documentation. She smiled as she clasps her
hands over her stomach; a reminder of their short but precious time
together. He said he was needed there; she had to go and start again.
Life would have to begin again.

"Thank you, for flying Utopiair, we hope you had a pleasant flight."
Katie stops and stares at the perfectly manufactured stewardess, "We
hope you find your Utopia." She pauses and allows her tic tac white
teeth to escape from her smile.
"Don't worry," Katie smiles back, "I know where to look."