Episode #6: Inconvenient Refugees 6: Streamlined process

Mar,31 2025

One of the great things about living in a naturist setting is that when a visitor drops into your bedroom early in the morning without a notice, you aren't struggling with the fact that you are sleeping in the nude.

"Genevieve? What the fuck, you can't just get into our bedroom like that" I tell her, after she called my name, sitting on our bed.

Cathy wakes up, but smiles. "You haven't done that in a while"

When we visited her free zone, her fingerprint could unlock our hotel room, and she would barge in to invite us to events when we were sleeping. We tried to make her stop, but it's like she didn't have a filter.

"Relax, Dave, it's not like I ever caught you doing naughty things. Do you guys even have sex? I know you want kids, the secret is", but I cut her off.

"We know how to make kids. What are you doing here?"

"I have the solution and I couldn't sleep anymore"

"You still can't barge in on us"

"Sorry, I became too excited. So, let's not do the interviews at your place"

"You want to do it at yours?"

"No, I intend to do it in the refugee camp"

"What?"

"You, me, Amanda, that beefy guy... "

"Patrick?"

"Yes, Patrick. Is he single?", she asked.

"Genevieve. Stay focused. Why go there?"

"They control the order, they get to pick whom to present to us. We could insist and pick the cream of the crop"

"They will never let us do it"

"You want to bet? They need us for a cover story. We have them by the balls"

I sigh. "What time is it?", I check, it's 5h30 AM.

"Genevieve, it's far too early for this. Wait, how did you get back so soon?"

"Oh, I didn't home. I grabbed a bed in a staff room in the hospital"

I sigh. She isn't staff, but she acts like she owns everything when it comes to her needs. Not that I would have asked security to kick her out if they called me to get advice on what to do with her.

"Hey, focus, we have a lot to do. We need to eat breakfast, I am famished, and then, get dressed, and find an official. Do you have your diplomatic passport?"

The few times Genevieve admits to being hungry, it's usually when she is excited about something, but can't do it yet. Like, we went dancing in a club with her, and it only opened a few hours later. Then, she was hungry.

"Yeah, in my dresser", I answer.

"I'll have mine sent here. I think you have a guy at your customs with us in case of medical emergencies"

"Yeah. Ok, Cathy, when do you start today?"

I looked, and my wife went back to sleep. Uncanny! We were talking, how... Never mind.

I checked the alarm clock, she put it at 8h00, This means she starts at 9h00, and doesn't do the breakfast run today.

"Ok, I will go find Patrick, get him a diplomatic passport, while you get yours. You then can go in the kitchen, and fix yourself some breakfast. If Cathy wakes up, follow her lead, but otherwise, don't wake her up"

"You are the best, Dave. I thought so too when you visited us back then."

I sigh. She didn't. She hung out with us because she liked Cathy. Not me. This is all diplomatic lying to get on my good side.

Genevieve starts to dig in my kitchen. I would normally blow a gasket, but I invited her to and she is a friend. Well, friendly. We had fun. I can sort of trust her, not because she cares about us, but because she needs me, and she is too diplomatic to cause any issues.

I wanted to let Patrick sleep, so I went to the admin building, and whip in a diplomatic passport for him, using his picture on file. He has a normal passport from us, but today will be a little trickier.

Am I legally allowed to do that? Hell no. Does our boss let me do it? Absolutely. But if Costa Rica learns that I did it, and not my boss, they would refuse it.

It takes me about 20 minutes, when it normally takes me only 10, but I am barely awake.

I did start the coffee machine in the office, so soon enough, I am mostly awake. I am just missing some food to fully start my machine.

Patrick is thrilled at going into the city. His wife, who seems even prettier than when I last saw her, gives him a shopping list, but we both remind her that he might not be able to go.

Right, a note. We can "borrow" a credit card. In short, when one of us gets permission to go outside, we can buy things using the borrowed credit card.

They fall into three categories.

Work supplies are usually fair game. If you are a janitor and get some cleaning products that were delayed by the importing team, no one will bat an eye. Unless it is far too expensive, then you will just be told to be more careful.

Free zone supplies are always fair game. You get a new board game for the civic center that people were talking about. Or you buy flower seeds that you plant in a flower pot next to the admin building to replace dead plants. You don't need to ask. If the free zone is improved, it's fine. Provided it's a decent amount, and it's used by everyone.

Personal supplies, however, need an explanation. Perhaps it's a gift for your kid, which is made by a local artist in town. Or maybe they are learning to paint, and no red paint is left anywhere in the free zone. Or it's your 10-year wedding, and you buy a small chain for your wife.

The thing is, there are so few people who are allowed to go out, that they are trusted not to abuse the system.

And yet, I am convinced, knowing Patrick's wife, that not only are all the items perfectly acceptable, but also that they come from many people who don't get the permission to go out.

That, too, is usually allowed, but would force Amanda to audit Patrick's purchases, so I know that the first item on that list, is some sort of trinket meant for her.

When she gives him the list, he puts it on the table to get dressed, allowing me to inspect it.

"It's all acceptable", she says.

I laugh, the first item is indeed for Amanda. "You could order that statue online. We have a form for that"

"No, it has to come from the same list for Amanda"

"I could put in a word"

"Don't, she takes that job very seriously"

Lindsey doesn't have a job. I know! It's weird, everyone has one. Not Lindsey, not officially, and if she did have a title, it would be "Zone facilitator".

Do you need something? Lindsey will find a way. She knows what everyone has, and I decide to open up to her.

"We have new residents"

"I heard. I spoke to some. That Russian couple? They will do just fine. And that farmer? I'll show him the ropes"

"One of them, wants to open a restaurant. Rana. Can you help her find the place, the things she needs to order, how to get started?"

"Dave, of course I can. It's me.", she says. "I already made a note to go talk to her this morning"

One of the things that makes Lindsey so efficient, is her arrogance. It may feel counterintuitive, but when you see her at work. You instantly know that collaborating, will make her go away faster than resisting, and that she will get her way.

The one wise decision that our boss made, was to refuse her all permissions to leave the zone. She can't even go over to Colin's free zone, and everyone else can go.

She is the only one fully restricted to our zone. He says that he fears diplomatic incidents...

Both of them weren't fully naturists, they enjoyed naturist vacations, but neither of them thought about living in a naturist resort or free zone. That is, until their town went underwater.

They knew our boss from, well, way back. They met on a naturist vacation when they were neighbors, and Lindsey pulled some favors to come to the free zone.

Sadly, their now adult son refused to come live with them. Not because of the naturism, but he is one of those objectors to the very existence of free zones.

Patrick runs the gym, and I train with him, but not as much as I want.

When he arrives, fully dressed, he is wearing his suit, and I give him one of the credit cards and his diplomatic passport.

"Do not do anything that could cause you to get arrested", I tell him.

"Boss, if I do, it will be to save your life, not to abuse anyone"

I smile. He is dedicated to everything he does, like his wife.

I tell him to meet me at the business center, and as he reviews the list, I join Genevieve, and now, Cathy, to eat breakfast with them.

They were laughing, retelling some stories of our vacation. It always ends like that, and with promises to spend vacation time again, but it never arrives.

It could cause way too problems with conflicts of interest.

I ate with an appetite, I didn't know when or if I would eat lunch.

We soon were on our way to the conference room, where our clothes from the previous day hung.

We found Patrick and Amanda, ordered the car service and were on our way to the Costa Rica foreign office or whatever it is called in Spanish.

The irony, is that my wife, who never has to deal with the Costa Rican government, fluently understands Spanish and speaks some of it, but I have to deal with them and can barely get by.

We use a car service when we need to move around. The free zones are big enough to do agriculture, but small enough to not require a car.

We end up paying for it, since 3 out of the 4 occupants are from my free zone, and it's not like the cost is that high.

On arrival, Genevieve leads the way, without even asking me if I wanted it. It's her plan, so I let her do it.

To my surprise, not only does Genevieve speak good Spanish, but Amanda too and the two of them discuss with whoever decided to listen to us.

I know he isn't the foreign affairs minister. I know he isn't the minister in charge of free zones. I know he isn't wearing a military uniform, but that's about it.

Soon, the tone cools down, and smiles return. You hear both Genevieve and Amanda thanks him "Gracias" and "Mucho Gracias" or something like that.

While he is gone, Genevieve briefs me.

"He agreed to my plan, but with some conditions"

"Like what?"

"No medical doctors, no people who can speak Spanish, and no diplomats or government officials"

"Why no diplomats and government employees? Do they want them? I get that they want the doctors and the Spanish speakers, but I don't get the last one"

Amanda explains it.

"Under the current agreements, diplomats and government officials are not allowed to claim climate asylum"

"Oh, I didn't know that", I admitted.

"A minister from Fiji tried to get climate asylum in Thailand, leaving his population behind."

"What did they do to him?", I ask.

"They sent him back. He was assaulted by a mob and killed, It wasn't pretty", Amanda says.

I look at her.

"It's brutal out there"

The employee comes back with two pieces of paper, which he gives to Genevieve, who doesn't even look at them, and instead, gives them to Amanda, who reads while Genevieve talks to him, apparently praising him.

"It's all in order", Amanda soon says, and we are soon back in the car.

"What have you got?"

"I have a document providing us with access to the main refugee camps and the permission to talk to all or any of the refugees, along with the address"

"Good"

"And I have a second paper allowing us to leave with up to 100 refugees, with the previously stated exceptions."

"We'll need a bus if it works"

Amanda talks to the driver, in Spanish, giving him the address, but then, asks him another question.

He replies with "si, señorita" but then, explains more, and I lose it all.

"He can get us a bus. It's the company of his brother-in-law."

Genevieve needs some quiet time, and Amanda is working on her tablet, while Patrick is going over the shopping list, making plans. He often needs to go in town as a sort of bodyguard. Our dear leader never leaves without him and loves going shopping as a "commoner". I think the only reason Patrick didn't have a diplomatic passport yet, is that our leader doesn't know how the machine works. They can't know everything.

Only, I have nothing to focus on. Sure, Scott and his wife are coming over tonight to cook that lamb meat with Cathy's help, but I should make it back on time, and Cathy looked forward to it.

I also need to check on that new nurse and see how she is settling in. Same for her husband. I wanted to go check in on them this morning, but when Genevieve is in motion, everything else is on pause.

When we make it, we are not only allowed in, but military guards are assigned to protect us. I suspect it's more to keep a tab on us than to protect us, but it frees Patrick up.

I relieved him of his duties, so he can use our car to go do the shopping for his wife. He promised not to take more than 2 hours, but I know it will be longer than that. It always is. There's traffic, and a short out of an item, so you need to find another location for it. It's a pain.

Still, we will probably waste even more in here.

Genevieve told me of her plan, but then, immediately broke it by adding a new twist.

Sure, she did find the platform where officials go to speak to the camp. She also found how out to turn on the microphone. Everything was going smoothly, until she addressed the crowd in French, not in English.

Amanda, who also speaks French, translates the big lines for me. Is it me, or are the ladies who surround me all polyglots, and I am the big dummy who can only speak in English? Well, Lindsey only speaks in English, so there is that. And my wife barely gets French.

In short, she asks all the refugees who are black feet and who speak French to come to the front, so she can offer them a place to live.

To both her and my surprise, none came forward. Maybe this earthquake didn't displace any? Perhaps they all found a way back to France? Possibly, some racism made them higher ranking members of their society? I have no clue.

She then asked for any French speakers of Berber origin, and got a much better turn out.

Only one of the ladies was a doctor, so she was told to report with her family to the main gate. None of them spoke Spanish or were government officials. Good.

When she explained that she can get up to 20 people to immigrate to her French Free Zone, about half of them leave.

It's true that Free Zones don't have a great reputation, but still, half of them stayed.

She asks them to wait there, and goes to speak with one of the guards.

When she returned she asked them to get to the end of the camps, that there is a cafeteria and that she will talk to them there.

Then, she goes to me. "It's your show now. For the English speakers"

I look at her. It was her plan, she said she would do it, but only did it for her own needs. Typical Genevieve.

I get on the podium, but wait for her crowd to have left.

"Pardon me everyone, my colleague just spoke to you guys in French, and I am an English speaker. In short, I want to make the same offer she just made. To invite some of you to our Free Zone to be safe. We could get some of you out of this refugee camp and into a house for your own family, with 3 meals per day, and a job for you. We can take only a few families, so if you are interested in finding safety and peace, approach the podium"

Only a few approached, fewer than for Genevieve, but I have my quota already. It's still perhaps 30 families.

"Ok, I will not sugar coat it. It's from a free zone. It means that while you will have safety, and you will get food, and healthcare, and your kids can go get a degree, you can't actually leave. If that is a problem, leave now, that's not negotiable"

A few leave, but fewer than for Genevieve.

You check, and not only are your military guards there, but others, just watching the crowd.

"Is there any cook specializes in Berber cuisine, who has many kids?"

Two women and a man raise their hand.

"Ok, how many kids?"

The man has 3, one of the women 3, and the other 4.

"Ok, the one with 4 kids, I will interview you first, with your family. The others, stay there. I have many other spots."

I asked Amanda to gather their files, get their jobs, and went to talk to the family.

I got assigned an "interview tent" with enough chairs for everyone.

The husband is a construction worker, which every free zone needs, if only for maintenance now that we help them build new ones. The kids are a 5-year-old shy boy, two nice 7-year-old twin girls, and a fidgety 9-year-old boy.

"I will not sugar coat it. You would be sent to an Italian free zone, which does a lot of tourism. They are nice, and will treat you well. You will be fed, housed, and safe. Does that sound interesting?"

"It does", says the father, but the mother also agrees.

"There is just one thing. That free zone is naturist"

"Was does that mean?"

"That everyone, adults, kids, teenagers, men, women, everyone, is nude. Naked if you'd like. It's not sexual, it's simply what they like"

"Oh, that's a big thing to ask", says the husband.

"We aren't forcing you. If you want safety, and a university education for your kids, and some of the best healthcare in the world, they can give you that"

They look at each other.

"Listen, stay here and think it over. I will make the same offer to the others, but for my zone. The Italian one only wants one family."

"Only us?", says the father

"Is that a problem?"

"There are... problematic people here"

"Could you point them to us?"

"They weren't in the crowd listening to you."

"So I don't need to worry, and you shouldn't either. If you say yes, we will put you on a bus, and you will be out of here before the end of the day"

"Naked", says the mother.

"Everyone is. We are all nudists"

"Will we see you again, I mean, after today?"

"My zone has the hospital. You will come for checkups, ask to see me. I am Dave, the administrator"

"Thank you. We will think it over"

"Don't tell the others" I tell them.

"Sure"

I leave the tent, and I am unsure what I will do.

Should I tell everyone over the microphone? Should I do like Genevieve and find a secluded place?

Maybe I should filter by job, to eliminate anyone we don't need?

I walk back to the stage, thinking it over.