Vera had three weekend days before returning to the office. The goal: to conquer the fifth level and reach catharsis. First she recorded a short holographic message for Benedita. It was programmed so that she could deactivate it before the deadline on the day she went back to Vatican Inc. Otherwise it would be automatically sent once the deadline expired. ‘Thanks for your message. I apologise for the time it’s taken. If this message reaches you, it means I have killed myself like Galo. Not by my own will, but because of something I’m investigating which I might not be able to resolve. You must send this message with the attachment to the following parameters SON 6G 30313. They belong to The Other One, an underground radio station. Ask your friend for help. It’s essential for the sake of the population. These years I have thought of you every day.’
Clarissa began to interact with the default characters. She was at level one. She was presented with a few easy questions and clear clues. She assessed the characters cautiously and accepted their company while she got to know the surroundings. The characters not only reacted to her own answers and questions, they also responded to emotional and physical information embodied by Clarissa within parameters which Vera transmitted through sensors in the control glove and by her facial response. Although it was all unexpected, the challenge had not yet begun. She would not gain anything if she acted cautiously. Her avatar seemed to be wandering around with no purpose. Vera was not taking on the challenge that Clarissa was designed to face. By looking at Clarissa’s body language it was easy to realise that she had not been created for a menial existence. Vera knew she was wasting time. What could happen? That Clarissa would be sent back to the beginning and have to start again? The avatar’s physical and spiritual death was not possible before reaching level five. The first challenge was to achieve a balance between precaution and skill to be able to make progress. To conquer in three days what hardened gaming addicts managed in two or three months. By the end of an hour she had activated a couple of characters on the list. The more characters she invited, the more complex the game would become and the more difficult the level. At the same time, if she did not activate new characters, she would not be able to gain access to higher levels. Vera went in ever deeper. Clarissa had already avoided being run over by a dustcart which had catapulted bags of rubbish straight at her. Following false directions from an ice cream seller she had lost herself in a labyrinth of alleyways crawling with gang members. After a punch-up with more than thirty of them she had managed to emerge unscathed from an attack by a rabid dog. She had then had to swim in the Tiber to recover the bag in which she kept her power-ups, stolen from under her nose while one of the newly activated characters was distracting her. On the first day Vera played for an unknown number of hours until she was suddenly overcome by exhaustion. She had pedalled, walked, run, swum, tripped, jumped. With Clarissa’s legs she had covered miles without getting very far. Just a few seconds of carelessness were enough for Vera to lose concentration with unavoidable drowsiness. Clarissa dragged her feet to the end of the dark alleyway to lean back and fall asleep. Vera pressed the standby button and stretched out on the sofa until the following day.
‘I have an ABD. Camera 16E detected anomalous behaviour in office 16.’ Martino from Security approached with the memory card and inserted it into Zillo’s personal screen. ‘It has to go through you. She’s management level.’
The image appeared immediately. Vera sitting in front of her screen.
‘Do you take it to be conclusive?’ Zillo kept calm without averting his eyes from the image of Vera.
‘I’d say so. It doesn’t show what kind of breach so I scanned and found the fragment.’ With his finger on the screen, Martino fast forwarded the video a few minutes then pinching the image with his fingers he slid it to the right and zoomed in to reveal the metal plate on the lock system of her office door. As in a veiled mirror, it reflected a miniature image of Vera in her chair, seen from behind. In a minuscule section now magnified dozens of times it was possible to make out a characteristic brightness. The left margin of Galo’s membrane.
‘She has a membrane in front of her screen.’ Martino stated the obvious.
‘I don’t suppose she requested authorisation.’
‘No.’
Zillo’s silence was unusual.
‘This was not what came up in the ABD. I discovered it with the scanner once I studied the information,’ continued Martino, knowing Zillo’s weakness for Vera.
‘What you’re telling me is extremely important. Get to the point, please.’
Martino fast forwarded the recording to the end.
‘The jacket.’
‘What about it?’ Zillo’s expression changed from concern to confusion.
‘She never hangs it on the back of the chair. I inserted the image in the search processor. Anomalous behaviour. In twenty years, she has never hung her jacket over the back of her chair.’
Zillo stared fixedly at the image for a few minutes until it became a dark background.
‘I see. I’ll take care of it. Leave the recording with me.’
Clarissa woke up to the fierce barking of a Doberman. The two Swiss guards watching her from above seemed gigantic. With her cup of tea next to her, Vera took small sips while she got over the shock. She remained alert to the dog’s movements while Clarissa explained to the guards that she had fallen asleep. Vera had only lost a few points for her slip-up. Greater harm would come if she did not deal appropriately with the guards. Clarissa could not convince them of her innocent behaviour. These days nobody slept huddled against the thick walls of the Pope’s office. How had she managed to get past the guards? Nobody could enter through St Damasus’ Courtyard except the guards. She found herself sitting on the other side of the Vice-Commandant’s desk. The questioning was not aggressive but became convoluted. The Vice-Commandant was a strict, inflexible man. How was it possible she had not been seen by the cameras or detected by the sensors? How had she managed to evade the chemical rays? Clarissa gave the wrong answers. If she revealed that she had deactivating devices embedded in her boots, they would confiscate them. She spent days locked up. Long minutes of Vera’s real time. She needed an ally. Somebody who could help her overcome obstacles which made her waste time and prevented her from progressing. Vera pressed the Allies option. There were several dozen. She preferred to create one herself as a complement for Clarissa. If she generated her ally according to her own specifications, she would leave Clarissa almost defenceless. She would have to give up almost all the power-ups for that level. She had no alternative but to choose quickly among the default allies. It was Vido that Clarissa needed, a corrupt member of the Swiss Guard, even if she would have to drop him later. The priority was to get Clarissa out of the cell. Vido appeared with breakfast and a wink. When Clarissa saw the slight depression in the centre of the bowl of porridge, she knew she would soon be out. She savoured the last spoonful of porridge. With the additional taste of the magnetic key Vido had left in the viscous mush.
The familiar footsteps announced themselves in the Budbar. Sitting in his usual private corner Zillo kept his eyes fixed on the membrane on the table.
‘It’s no longer possible to read the alternative information. Several suicides and they’re off, blathering on about the cataclysm again. Don’t they realise they only scare people? As if they were capable of analysing anything. Did they not know that in classical antiquity they already had specialists who poisoned the drinking water? They infested besieged cities by throwing vessels with fluids of those sick with cholera or leprosy into the water. European settlers did the same thing. They annihilated native populations with flu, smallpox, typhoid fever, whatever. More powerful than steel or powder. The penny hasn’t dropped that we still live in the same way. The main thing has always been to protect stability. Dominant groups will never give up their interests. The market cycle is unstoppable. It would lead to a worldwide catastrophe. Everything depends on everything else. Easy to succeed and equally
easy to fail. It will always be the favourite game. Don’t you agree?’
He waited for Carda to sit down before looking up.
‘I imagine you have something pressing to discuss with me.’ The priest’s preambles were well known to Carda,
‘I received notification from Security. An ABD.’ His face indifferent, Carda said nothing. Zillo rubbed his temple. ‘I hope it’s nothing. They detected anomalous behaviour in Vera.’
Zillo inserted the card and turned the membrane.
‘Look at all three files.’ He again rubbed his temple while Carda studied the information.
‘She smuggled in a membrane. I see. She used the jacket over the back of her chair to hide it. Her movement is barely noticeable. Deliberate concealment.’
‘I asked Martino for more information before arranging to meet you.’
‘Did he find anything else?’
Zillo touched the membrane to open the video and turned it again towards Carda.
‘The external perimeter cameras show her waiting and then talking to two operators.’
In a few seconds, the video clearly showed Vera standing talking with operator 325. After a slight hesitation Vera leads him out of sight of the camera.
‘Their terminals were next to the two operators recently departed.’
‘Spying, Vera?’ Carda’s incredulous grimace did nothing to hide his cynicism.
‘She’s a little disoriented after her partner’s death. They were together for many years. Martino looked into the business of the operators leaving. They had also killed themselves. The apparent wave of suicides is clearly worrying her. See what you think.’
‘It all points to one conclusion. Why would she bring in a membrane?’
‘She could have done so years ago. There is no record of invasion of restricted areas. So far I have no reason to suspect her of spying. Speak to her. Use my office. I don’t want any cameras recording this situation. I don’t wish to besmirch her reputation unnecessarily. Tell her what we have on her. Don’t tell her I know. When you’ve clarified the issue I’ll expect your report.’
Carda preferred not to speak to Vera. The first thing was to look into the register of her daily activity. Martino provided him with all the logs for the past four weeks showing each sector where Vera had worked and on what. The time spent. Steps followed. Websites she had visited. Zillo had given him complete freedom to investigate Vera. Martino had reluctantly given him her PEC number. With it, it did not take Carda long to rake through her whole life. He accessed the global database in the same way as Vera had illegally investigated the operators. Carda studied every fact about her, getting to know her tastes, her habits, her dislikes down to the last detail. He checked her out once more using the ABD. Two anomalous behaviours emerged, both in the past three weeks. For Carda the signs of Vera’s intentions were conclusive. It was not the constant visits to The Other One that caught his attention. Vera, who had never registered a single avatar for any game, had embarked on a sudden daily routine, spending hours on Vatican World Cf. It was the definitive proof of what he had begun to suspect. He had such a clear profile of Vera that nothing could dissuade him or stir any doubts. For the first time in years, fully aware, Carda’s lips broke into a smile.
Once at the third level, Vera had a more comprehensive idea of the marvellously complex world of Vatican World Cf. She did not know whether the desire to go further was hers or Clarissa’s. The hours went by almost without interruption except to eat something she had allowed to go cold on the plate next to her. They were hours in which the surroundings changed at every corner and presented her with riddles, challenges she had to overcome to advance, not knowing where she was going. She spent the first two days with the curtains drawn, attempting to advance from level four to level five. Galo had spent his last few days there, increasing his score and prizes each time. According to Galo’s logs, there was little room for improvement. He was an advanced player. He had conquered obstacles and reached catharsis three times. Just like the other dead avatars, Galo had reached the climax. Level five was the top. Vera had not imagined that the complexity of the game would make rising through the levels so laborious. She would not be an advanced player until she reached the fifth level.
Vido turned out to be a remarkable ally. Not only had he got Clarissa out of the cell, he had not hesitated to desert the Guard. Nor had Clarissa hesitated to take him with her. Thanks to his internal knowledge he had helped Vera climb sub-levels without her knowing it. Clarissa depended on him. They had become an efficient, devoted team. Meant for each other. Clarissa had also had to save him on a couple of occasions. She had jumped off a motorbike to prevent him crashing into a combi because his brakes had been severed. Even more dangerously, Clarissa had risked being demoted to the third level by her decision to retrace her steps to rescue him. She had yanked him out of the cage seconds before its walls were compressed or he would have been skewered by poisoned barbs. Each time Clarissa and Vido made a high five, Vera scored more points that would take her to the top.
He went into the Budbar, straight towards the private section at the back. Carda was waiting for him. As Zillo passed by, he gestured to the barman. By the time Zillo had removed his overcoat and hung it on the coat rack, the barman had appeared with two glasses of brandy. Zillo sat down opposite Carda.
‘Who’d have thought it? It feels like it was centuries ago. The days we used to come to take our friends to parties in Rome. Another era. You can’t even collect art now. It’s pure exhibitionism. When the Chinese bubble burst, who was left? Until the next bubble. What do they know about art! Whatever happened to aesthetic excitement? Paris, London? Those were inspirational cities. Artists breathed the life of an era. Now they breathe the construction of a brand name. I’m leaving for Paris in an hour. Back in a couple of days. I’m leaving you in charge, comme d’habitude.’
It bothered Carda when Zillo displayed his good mood. He felt at a disadvantage. Zillo slipped him the access card, sliding it across the table with his palm face down. Carda waited for Zillo to lift his hand before taking the card. He raised his glass and gulped its contents down in one swig. Zillo raised his and peered at the bright amber liquid. He swirled the glass while covering it for a few seconds. Then he put his nose closer and took away his hand to inhale the brandy’s powerful aroma.
‘An excellent distillation. Colombard.’
The two men felt comfortable with Carda’s silence. Zillo again sniffed the aroma of the drink several times after making the brandy swirl about gently in the glass.
‘Very good. So, what do you have for me?’
Zillo pushed his full untouched glass away with the back of his hand as though it were in his way. Carda put the memory card on the table. He pushed it gently towards Zillo with his finger.
Once he parted with Zillo outside the Budbar, Carda texted Vera asking her to meet him at Zillo’s office. Vera was seated waiting at the conference table at the other end of the room from the glass wall. Carda came into Zillo’s office and shut the door. That Carda should not reinsert the access card worried Vera. The tiny red light on the lock plate lit up. Forgetfulness or not, the door was locked. The curtains closed instantly when Carda pressed the button. Although Vera felt herself locked in Zillo’s office, she hid her nervousness.
‘And Father Zillo?’ Vera knew the answer as Carda approached her.
‘He won’t be coming.’
Vera got up from her chair but his firm hand pressing on her shoulder told her clearly to sit down again.’
‘We need to talk.’
She had never felt such unequivocal firmness. Carda had always seemed to her to be a weak man despite his harsh character and inflexible attitude. Vera resorted to her rhythmic breathing. Carda walked to the other end of the table.
‘We know you didn’t go to Borneo. Any reason why not?’
‘I haven’t been feeling well. I preferred to stay at home.’
‘Understandable, but you lied. Any
reason?’
‘I didn’t want to worry Zillo.’
‘There are no cameras or microphones here. You know that.’
‘Yes. I have nothing to hide.’
If they doubted her behaviour, why was Father Zillo not there to question it?
‘The access logs show you have been checking the Cf structures.’
‘I had reason to think that the gameplay might have been altered.’
‘What kind of alterations?’
‘That’s what I wanted to check.’
‘You didn’t receive any alerts.’
‘My job is not just…’
‘I know full well what your job is.’ Carda’s harsh voice was nothing new. She had to keep calm to emerge intact from the interrogation. ‘I also know what your job is not.’
Vera recognised instantly that this time Carda’s silence indicated that he was expecting an explanation. She preferred not to offer any that could suggest her weakness on the topic.
‘Martino has notified me of an ABD related to you.’ Once Carda understood that he himself should continue the conversation, he inserted the card in Zillo’s screen. In the heavy silence Vera began to speculate on possible answers. The enormous image of herself on the large screen shook her to the core. He showed her evidence of her infringement. The conversations with the plant operators and her jacket on the back of the chair, which had been the giveaway.
‘Introducing a membrane without due authorisation is serious. Do you have a satisfactory explanation?’
The Vatican Games Page 15