I'm about to fall asleep again when my mind freezes for a moment in that stage between sleep and wakefulness.
Something, taking advantage of my being half asleep, clicks into my brain.
My eyes nearly pop out of their sockets when two or three pieces of the puzzle, which have always been there in my head, finally fit together (and also scream out loud "Hey, nut head, you finally got there!").
I scream.
I jump out of the bed, and I almost stumble, as I rush to Tears' room and I almost unhinge his door while I'm still screaming.
****
I directly pass from REM sleep to being wide awake, like a miracle case who starts walking again after being knocked out of his wheelchair. I'm standing on the bed and I'm screaming just because who entered the room is screaming too, and I don't realize right away that all this is very stupid. I'm still confused, and I aim my Beretta at the door. I don't know who I am nor where I am. But, after a moment, I realize that it's just the rookie.
- WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU SCREAMING!? - I yell back.
- You're one of the Sevyhal Twins! If Sin is one of the two and you're his brother, then you're the other one! You are the most vicious killer of my world! -
- AND YOU WANTED ME TO DIE OF A HEART ATTACK AND TAKE CREDIT FOR THAT? -
- I JUST REALIZED WHO YOU ARE! -
- IT WAS ABOUT TIME! -
- WHY ARE WE SHOUTING? -
- I DON'T KNOW! -
I lower my Beretta. He clears his throat. I get down off my of bed and scratch my head.
I'll definitely get a headache today, after being woken up this way.
****
A couple of hours later I'm sitting on a stool at the kitchen counter sipping a cup of tea: my breakfast. There's still a big mess after the refugees broke into the house. Most of the windows are still broken, the wall between the living room and the stairs was blown up, so now there are pallets, instead, to keep us from falling down. The hoist still doesn't work, but we have tidied up everything else and we are waiting for some new jobs to restore the bank credit and finish up the work.
My bank account is non-existent. Exactly zero. But I don't worry. I hardly care about money. In a world where people are shooting at you, a bank employee warning you that you're in the red is not the thing you fear the most.
Anyway, I'm here having breakfast and in the meantime I keep an eye on some data that doesn't convince me on my netbook monitor. Tears comes in from the hall, still sleepy with one eye closed and one open, in his morning beard and wearing the vest and sweat pants that he sleeps in. His face says it all.
- So, do you have something for me? - He mumbles in my direction as he gets a cup from the cupboard. He leans on the other side of the counter and looks at me.
I put my hand in my pocket and pull out a small tin box. - Some breath mints. -
He wrinkles his nose. - Very funny, - and from under the counter he pulls out a flask. He pours some yellowish liquid in his tea.
I raise my eyebrows. - What a crappy way to start the day, Tears. -
He shrugs. - Maybe I'm expecting a shitty day. After all, it started hours ago. -
- At what time did you start drinking today? -
- After I saw you. -
- You got up from the wrong side of the bed this morning, huh? -
He takes a sip. - I hate being woken up badly. I stay in a bad mood for the rest of the day. -
- Do you know they invented the shaver? -
- Too dangerous, if you walk by I might want to slit my wrists. -
Okay, I'd better shut up. Today is not a good day.
Then he stops and stares straight in front of himself, I see him in the corner of my eye. I have good peripheral vision. I think he's mulling something.
I focus back on the Confederation program. In the outskirts of Borsano there is something unconvincing, but I can't figure out if it's a dimensional shift which was forced open or if there simply is some electricity in the air caused by an approaching storm.
- I tell you, I'm sure I already met you, – he says, lost in something that he can't remember.
I keep my eyes on the monitor. - Tears, I am noble, I already told you. You probably saw me somewhere or on some poster. I've blue blood other than blue hair. -
He puts the cup on the counter and goes to the bathroom. - Well, your blood is blue only because you have bruised blood cells. -
He closes the door behind him.
****
I've been here for two hours, with my ass on this stool, staring at the program, but I'm getting nowhere. - Tears, there is some data I don't understand. -
One of his huge hands comes into view and picks up the netbook. He takes it by the screen and turns it to look at it from his height.
- Hey! Give it back! Give it back! Give it back! You're going break it! - I jump over and over again to get it back but, just like a fourteen year old bully, Tears raises it high enough so that I can't reach it.
- What is it that's not convincing you? - He asks, looking at me with one eyebrow down and one up.
- Give it back! Give it back! - I jump on him and I climb up his arm.
- Hey! Get off of me! - He's halfway between angry and amused. He shrugs. I grab the netbook and jump down, embracing it.
- Monkey! - He says.
- BAOBAB! - I answer.
- What kind of a fucking offense is 'Baobab'? - His face is between puzzled and amused.
- You're too big! - I caress the netbook and I flip it open and stare again at my data. - I can't tell if it's a magnetic storm or a refugee landing. -
He shrugs. - I don't give a fuck either way. -
- Huh? -
- Even if they were refugees, Sin is not the sender, it's not... I don't know, the time, the place. It's not him, anyway. -
- Tears, we can't always trust your mental connection with him. That's not very scientific, you understand. -
- It might not be scientific but so far it has always worked. -
- Yeah, but... -
- Look, I'd rather driving than spending time discussing with you today, okay? Wanna go and see? Let's go! - He gets up, takes his leather coat and goes down the stairs. I'm puzzled.
I check my Glock, I take the netbook and I follow him.
****
After we've been driving for about ten minutes the shortwave transmitter on the dashboard sizzles and General Shelv's voice comes out of it.
- Eirdar, I have a job for you. -
Tears is driving with an arm out the window and a cigarette in his mouth. - Even I have a job for me and I'm going there right now, - he answers.
Static. - From the GPS I see that you're heading right to the place I want you to go. -
He takes his cigarette with his left hand and grabs the radio with his right. - Those waves in the Borsano area? -
- Exactly. - The transmitter hisses briefly and I think that mobile phones are much, much more comfortable, but I'll keep it for me.
- What is it? We couldn't figure it out from here. -
- A massive evasion from a prison. They had the great idea of coming here in order not to get caught. -
Tears nods pretending to be impressed while looking at the slit in the skirt of a girl down the road. - Very smart. Out of the frying pan into the fire. -
- You must contain this massive migration. Act as you see fit. -
- As usual. -
- It's already been established that giving you specific orders on how to act is simply a waste of time. -
He grins. - Shelv, look, this job has nothing to do with Sin. I pass. -
- You can't pass on this one, Tears. You have to go there. -
He raises one single eyebrow, but I don't like it. - I pass all the jobs I want. Capture a bunch of desperate people on forced holidays is not in my job's description. -
- I want you on the field, Tears. Otherwise I don't want you on any other field, have I made myself clear? -
Ouch...
He steers so fast that I nearly fall out of the window. And then I almost end up on the hood too, since he screeches and breaks in the first parking spot he finds. He grabs the radio and screams directly into the microphone. - WHAT KIND OF BULLSHIT IS THIS, SHELV!? DO I HAVE TO REMIND YOU THAT I'M NO LONGER ON YOUR PAYROLL!? -
An old man comes up and knocks on the half lowered window on Tears' side. - Excuse me, - he says.
- WHAT? - Tears yells back.
- You can't park here. This is a parking space reserved to people with disabilities. -
Tears points his Beretta to the man's knee. - DO YOU WANT AN AUTHORIZATION TO PARK HERE TOMORROW? -
The old man, shocked, drops his stick and runs away screaming.
I'm as cool as a cucumber: I should know better by now.
From the radio comes only a, – This is not negotiable, Tears. And I want a quick and clean job. Or I'll be forced to remove you from Sin's case for incompetence. -
The transmitter sizzles and I know, as well as Tears, that on the other side the General has ended this communication.
A moment of silence, then the transmitter flies on the dashboard and the Leon starts in reverse at a breakneck speed. Handbrake, U-turn, first gear, and half of the tread remains in that parking place.
I check the GPS on the netbook. - According to the Confederation, it's faster if we go that way, - and I point to the opposite side.
He pulls the handbrake, turns the steering wheel abruptly and while we rotate 180 degrees on ourselves, I hold on every available surface. The netbook flies towards him and he blocks it with one hand, in the air.
Without even looking at me, he hands it to me again.
I take it and say nothing. He grinds his teeth and it's not a grin this time: he's really pissed.
This is definitely not a good day.
****
"Leave all the metal objects in the basket."
I go back and deposit my keys in the basket too. Let's give it another try. But the machine beeps again. I snort.
Tears passes through the metal detector next to mine. He's completely at ease, he doesn't even slow down, his Beretta holster in good view.
Everything that can sound sounds, we are only lacking fireworks and then the chaos is complete. Four guards stare at him, then they recognize him and simply greet him.
He stops and looks at me. - So, rookie, do you want to go in all naked? -
- But I... That is... I can't... -
He grabs me by my sweatshirt and nods to the guards working at my metal detector. - Sadly enough, this one here is with me. - They nod. Tears slams into my chest the basket with the Glock and all my metal objects and turns around. - Come on! -
****
A private approaches Tears when he sees him marching down the hall and tries to stop him.
- Excuse me, where do you think you are going? You can't get... -
Tears grabs him by his shoulder, lifts him and gets him out of his way. The private's about to react but another soldier, obviously more experienced than him, stops him and shakes his head slightly. The private doesn't react but looks puzzled towards us, as we walk away, heading upstairs to Shelv's office.
Tears doesn't open the door, he unhinges it.
- More time you spend uselessly arguing with me, more time it'll take you to finish this job, Tears, - Shelv says straight away, without even looking up from the documents he's reading. He's sitting behind that huge crystal greenhouse that passes for his desk.
- I'm no longer an ally. Do you remember that or some fucking file got deleted in your beloved box? - He slaps the Mac's LCD monitor in front of him. - I'm a fucking freelance, I'm even paid under the table! So I have all the right to chose the jobs I like, have I made myself clear? -
- And I have every right to assign you all the tasks I please. If you refuse this assignment, you can consider yourself discharged from any obligation you have towards the Confederation. At that point you can hand over your weapons and return to the second dimension. -
He throws his arms out and I move back right before being slapped in the face. - What the fuck is wrong with you, Shelv!? Can't you send anybody else there? -
Probably the General hasn't even noticed me yet. In the meantime, I note every detail in the room, as usual. White curtains, the window overlooking the nineteenth-century garden in the inner courtyard, the china tea set on the desk. Two half full cups, silver spoons.
Two.
- I'm sorry, but in this situation, my hands are tied. You'll find me as helpless as a monarch in a democratic country. -
Tears stares at him: both his hands are resting on the glass desk and he has a cigarette in his mouth. A minute of silence passes, then Tears snaps, starts mumbling and turns towards the exit. I follow him.
We're about to leave the room, when Shelv's voice stops the both of us.
- Tears? -
He turns and catches something that the General has just thrown at him. He looks at the metal plate that was previously on the desk, and which is now in his hands. - Do you see what's written on it? - Shelv asks.
Tears reads the tag. - Yeah, no smoking. The same thing that's written there. - He turns and points to another plate posted on the door. - But I don't give a shit. - He throws the plate in the trash, puts the cigarette out on the mahogany door and leaves the room.
I sigh and look at the General. - And you're lucky, I have to live with him. - Then I follow him and get out of the office.
****
Almost a minute of silence passes by, and then, while I'm filling out the form in front of me, I smile.
- Don't you want to know how's your son? -
She comes out from behind the curtains where she was hiding, and smiles back at me. I don't look at her, but I know that her long white hair is framing her pale face and that she is walking towards me, sure-footed and elegant as always. She sits in front of me and raises her eyebrows, then she looks at the landscape from the window behind me.
- I know him too well, I'd say that he's fine... and maybe also that he's having fun. - Then she looks at me. - By the way, General, - she says, emphasizing my rank, - I haven't thanked you yet for the treatment you gave him. I know he deserved much worse. -
I put my fountain pen down on the notebook where I write down all the assigned tasks, and cross my hands. - It was my duty, your Majesty, - I answer, emphasizing her title.
She blurts and finally I recognize her. - SHUSH! Stop calling me that and stop being so formal! You know I can't stand it! -
I laugh and I let myself go back on the armchair. - I was waiting for you to get mad. -
- You're really enjoying yourself. -
- Yes, quite enough. However, going back to your son, he's doing a good job. And I also noticed that he has a talent for computer science. -
She waves a hand in front her face. - Ah yes, back at the palace his apartment is packed with all the stuff that you've managed to send me from this dimension. Actually, when we were able to get that signal, the... what's its name... the internet, that stuff there, well, he no longer got out of the palace. He literally locked himself up in his apartment, so much that I feared he had died. - She sighs. - I was hoping that with all that stuff he stopped with all that pilfering around, when instead... -
I sway my head. - When instead he ended up stealing the Iantor. -
She nods. - When he does something he goes the whole hog. -
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