She stepped over the jet black cylinder as it whizzed toward her, ran a duster over the desk and wondered why robots were only used to clean the floor. Had this role only been created to give her a job? She was on the understanding that those not chosen were taken and killed. Johanna breathed in deeply, trying to control the shake in her hand. Although well fed here, years of malnutrition had taken their toll. It would be a while before the effects subsided. The problem, she did not have a while, but understood that building up strength was important before she could attempt an escape.

Shaking the thoughts from her head, Johanna reached for her spray bottle, misjudging the distance and sending the container flying. The world moved in slow motion as the bottle headed to the ground. Johanna knew another beating would come if the liquid spilled on the carpet. Before impact, a hand darted down, saving the contents from being ejected. "Lucky I was in early," the hand's owner said.

Johanna looked on in horror, unsure what this man would do. He wore the trademark suit of one of the more bureaucratic workers, cut and tailored to cling to his body. His shoes were polished to a high shine, under his deep blue suit he had a black shirt, and on his arm his watch had been adorned with a gold strap. The man even had a large diamond in his left ear. The classic look screamed "go getter," a man after the best in life. But something sat at odds with the image; the tie. Not the usual skinny affair in white or blue, instead his had a striking leopard print. More unexpected thought, was what he did next. Extending an arm, he offered the container, "there you go."

Johanna froze in horror, what to do? Take the bottle and risk him pulling her closer then beating her, or leave it and risk offending him, thus leading to a beating? Either way, she risked more bruises and broken bones. As she raised her hand slowly, the man said, "I understand why you are worried, and you have every right to be. But please believe me when I say you have nothing to worry about when it comes to me. Look," he passed the bottle over before moving his hand over a small badge on his lapel. There was a tiny flash, almost invisible if you were not looking for it. "Did you see that?"

Johanna pursed her lips, making sure she would not speak, instead nodding her head slightly.

"It may not mean that much to you, but it means I am with the rebellion. We are working to change the system, to make sure there is no divide between the slums and mega cities. There aren't many of us out here, this far from the capital, but if you are worried about someone who wears a Princips badge, move your hand up to your face, if it flashes you can trust them." With a smile he walked away.

As he passed a few desks, Johanna's nerve came back, and she shouted, "thank you."

"Your welcome, if you need anything then let me know."

She did not mean to say what came next, it just blurted out, "to escape this place." Sometimes the thing we feel is the worst we can say, is actually the best.

The man walked back, looking around, concerned that someone might be listening, "do you know the cafe in Trent Street? Black front, at odds with the rest of the buildings, dark windows, none of the smart shine of every other building around it?"

"No."

"But you could find your way to Trent Street?"

"I suppose."

"Meet me there for lunch, say one pm?"

Johanna raised her wrist strap, "this thing monitors me, I can't leave this building during work hours."

"You leave that to me." Johanna appeared unsure. "It's up to you, I'll be there at one, if you turn up we can talk some more. I'll understand if you don't though, some strange man offering you salvation probably sounds far too good to be true for what you have been through." Johanna nodded back. "It's your choice, maybe see you later." Checking the coast was clear, the man turned and walked away.

~

It seemed to feel tighter as she stood by the door. Johanna had tried to remove the strap using her fingernails, hair pins, sticks and once, when she managed to get hold of one, a knife. Now she shook more than ever, fists clenched tighter, almost causing her pain. Stepping over that threshold meant stepping out of her designated area. She expected a shock, then to wake up in some cell, being given a final warning; tow the line or they would dispose of her. Nothing happened. She stool in the plaza outside the Princips' offices; marble floor, trimmed hedges either side, benches, a large P with water being forced at it. At this time of day she could not see the blue light that emanated from the fountain. People sat on benches, or marble steps that led to the road below, eating simple delicacies she could only dream of. Johanna tried to look inconspicuous, as if she were a spy or alien in an unknown land. Nobody paid her any attention. It was only when she made her way to the road that she realised there were no maps or even road names. Last time she made a journey in the city she had a watch guiding her, this time she had no such luxury. There was little choice to make, she would need to ask someone for help. A lone man, a woman messaging on her watch, some teenagers chatting and laughing. Who to ask? There, a young couple walking hand in hand, smiling, happy. Surely they would help.

"Ex..excuse me," Johanna stuttered, short of breath from the quick dash. Their faces changed quickly, the love draining, replaced by disgust. "I was wondering if..."

The man interrupted, "how dare you?"

"Sorry, I don't want to offend, it's just..."

"I don't care what it is, criminals like you should be locked up."

"I'm not a criminal," Johanna managed, her eyes becoming damp.

"I think that band says otherwise."

Before Johanna could reply, the woman spat at her, then they strode off, happily loved up once more. Pulling her sleeve over her hand, she wiped the foam from her chest. Only just holding it together, Johanna rushed forward, head down, her one thought to get out of the situation. She careered into something; bouncing back and looking up she noticed one youth that had moved from the group of friends. "What did you do?" she asked in awe, "murder someone?"

Johanna sidestepped the question in a literal sense, speeding up to get clearance between her and the teenager. "No, I didn't mean it like that," the youth tried, but still Johanna refused to stop.

"You're a dick sometimes," Johanna heard another teenager say, then felt a hand on her shoulder.

She turned and struck out, slapping the boy across the face. Johanna was about to run, but guilt held her there. He did not attack back, the boy seemed genuinely shocked. "Sorry," Johanna mumbled.

"It's OK," the boy said, clutching his face. "It's my idiot of a friend who made you do that."

"What?! I was nowhere near," the girl protested, arriving at the scene. One look from her friend enough to silence her.

The silence hung like mist suddenly appearing on a sunny day. Johanna wanted to move, but some strange force kept her there. The boy waded through the fog first, "so...erm...what did you want? Anything we can help with?"

"I'm a criminal, you don't want to help me," Johanna was not able look the youths in the eye.

"What did you do?"

"Stole something," Johanna started, before feeling she had to justify her actions, "but only to get information about my daughter. Princips took her away."

"What for?"

"I'm sure they had their reasons," she said meekly, not wanting to find out what would happen should she bad mouth her captors any more.

"I doubt it, they do strange things, like they're always watching, waiting for you to make a mistake."

The girl chipped in, "we're in the open Todd, what did we say about talking like that? Remember what happened to Lesedi."

"Maybe that's how we will find her, by getting caught ourselves."

Sensing she could use this information to help her cause, Johanna probed, "who's Lesedi, what did she do?"

"A friend," Todd said, "well, we presume a friend, if she's still alive. She questioned a guard taking someone in to be prosecuted. If she had stopped the first time she would have been fine, but she kept on having a go at him, telling him he was being unlawful, that just because the person he was taking in was from a slum he had no right to beat them. The guard didn't take too kindly to that, so she ended up in a cell as well. That's the last we saw of her."

A solemn silence descended over the conversation.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Johanna said after a few seconds.

"You see," Todd added, "Lesedi would want us to help, so how can we?"

With a concerned breath Johanna relented, "I need to get to Trent Street but I don't have a watch."

"Trent Street?"

"The one with that funny old building on it," Todd's friend said, "you know it."

"No, I don't."

"Yes you do, it's like small and black, and has tinted windows. You can't see into it."

"Oh, yeah, the secret service headquarters." Johanna looked concerned so Todd added, "it's not...well, it might be. We just call it that as it is kind of creepy."

"OK...do you know the way?" Johanna asked.

"Yeah, it's not far from here. Just head that way," he pointed in the direction Johanna had been going, "turn right at the traffic lights then it's one of the roads on the left, second I think."

"Third," corrected the girl.

"Are you sure?"

"Yep, it's opposite the church with that massive lit up cross."

"Oh yeah," Todd turned back to Johanna, "it's opposite a church with this massive cross sticking out the top that is lit up all the time."

"Like a fly trap," the girl added.

~

It did look out of place, like a child's drawing in the middle of an art gallery. While the surrounding buildings glistened, facades of glass, lights and wood, this one sat like a concrete box. Black contrasting against white, dull against light, grim against clean. Above a battered wooden door hung a hand-painted sign, chipped and faded. It said, 'Ye Olde Cafe,' but the jumble of strange characters were wasted on Johanna.

She waited, mentally preparing herself, hoping that this meeting would not dash her hope once more. It seemed a strange place to have secret meetings, if any building in the city screamed, 'something strange is happening here,' it was this one. But then, she had no choice, she had to take any help offered. Remembering how helpful the teenagers were, Johanna walked toward the door.

She expected a foreboding creak, but the door swung open easily. Inside, the room was warm and welcoming, a throwback to a time before Princips took over. The furniture, a mishmash of pieces collected from old junk no longer in fashion but still usable, was made mainly of wood in every shade possible. Scraped edges and chipped surfaces added to the shabby chic of the place. On the wall hung pictures, not ever changing digital screens but paintings of landscapes from forests to rivers to fields. The only digital item appeared to be the fireplace, a mock flickering giving the impression of cosy heat. Near the wall furthest from the door stood a solid counter, again made from wood. On top a collection of drinks, crisps and cakes. Around the tables sat a myriad of people, all laughing and chatting. The inside of the building giving off a complete contrast to the vibes from the outside.

As she surveyed the clientele, Johanna spotted her new friend sitting in a corner near the digital fireplace. A smile played across his face as he raised a hand. As she moved, Johanna realised how out of pace she felt, so did the classic head down walk as fast as you can in the hope no-one will see you. Stumbling around tables and knocking a chair did not help, but with determination, and making sure she made no eye contact with others, Johanna made it successfully to her goal, sitting quickly.

"You made it then." Only when the man finished his sentence did she look up, deciding to nod rather than risk gaining attention from those around her. Her new friend chuckled, "I can see you are a woman of few words. I like people who choose their words carefully, they tend to cause less problems."

Johanna had to reply to that, "you haven't seen the problems I've caused." Her eyes threatened to become damp.

"Believe me, it can't be as bad as what Princips are doing."

"Nothing can be as bad as that."

"So what problems have you caused then?"

Johanna hesitated, then stared him straight in the eye.

The man laughed, "keeping your secrets, I think I'm liking you more every minute. So, I supposed it is down to me then. My name is Kungawo." He proffered a hand. Johanna kept hers below the table. "You really do not like opening up. Oh well, it will have to be a one-sided conversation then. So, you want to escape?" Kungawo paused, hoping to have tricked her into eliciting a response. He got nothing. "It's not easy," he suddenly switched to a serious tone, "there is no secret tunnel, no bribing the guards, no magic walkway to freedom. But with Kendra dead, we might just have a window where we can do something."

"Kendra's dead," Johanna uttered in a symposium of shock and joy.

"Don't get too excited, the guards may be confused and distracted, but we still need to be careful."

Riding on a new wave of excitement, Johanna said, "so what do we need to do?"

"Fake your death."

"What?!" she came crashing down to Earth once more.

"Fake your death."

"I got that, but how? Why? Won't I need a funeral? Won't they check the body?"

"Sorry to tell you, but you don't mean enough to them to get a funeral. If we can make it look like an accident where your body isn't found, that would be good?"

"So it's basically pick my own death."

"What better way to go?" Kungawo replied with a wry smile.

"So what?! I just throw something that resembles me off a building?"

"No, no, the body will be visible, we need it to wash away with the tide, or something."

"Shame there's no sea near us."

"No, but there is a lake."

After a short pause, whilst Kungawo formulated a plan, Johanna asked, "why are you helping me?"

"Because some of us want change."

"Saving me won't make anything change."

"You'd be surprised, it's all the little things that add up to make big change."

"I've heard too many rubbish motivational quotes to believe that. Anyway, this place won't be hard to find when Princips get a whiff of what you are doing."

"Sometimes the best hiding place is in plain sight."

"Well, you couldn't get more obvious than this."

"Always so cynical." Kungawo smiled, baring bright white teeth.

"So, what's the next move?"

"I suppose you don't know what Stanley Park is?" Johanna shook her head. "The one with the big lake?" Another shake. "I'll explain where it is whilst we sort out the most important part."

"What's that?"

"Lunch of course!"