They travelled in silence through Rome’s neighbourhoods of new apartment blocks. When they arrived at the address, Carda rang the doorbell several times. They waited for Daniel Lo to answer. Nobody did. They hung around the door for someone to enter or leave the building. When a woman appeared, Vera gestured to Carda to let her do the talking. With ease Vera got them into the entrance hall. In the role of a location agent, Vera thanked her for her kindness in opening the door for them. She engaged Carda in a needless explanation of the advantages of the building while she waited for the woman to go on her way. They needed to avoid the routine cameras in the lifts and corridors. Once the woman had disappeared into the lift, Carda led Vera to the central courtyard from where he figured out the back door to the flat. The emergency stairs took them to the sixth floor. As they had imagined, the doors reinforced with access cards proved impenetrable without alerting the security systems. There were no windows but panels of solid glass. They reached Daniel Lo’s door. Breaking the glass was not an option. Vera pressed the door lightly with a finger as if she knew it would be open. Neither of them expected it to give in easily. The curtain swayed on the other side of the glass as they entered without hesitation. Avoiding ABDs was a reflex action for both of them. Carda used the curtain to prevent the door from closing. Without an access card they would not be able to get out.
‘Daniel.’ Carda called out once and waited. ‘He’s not here.’
‘Nobody leaves an access door open if they’re not at home.’
‘Maybe it was accidental.’
‘It doesn’t explain why he left by the back door.’
Carda and Vera noted things scattered all over the floor.
‘Looks like he left in a hurry.’
‘It does indeed.’ Vera looked at the stuff on the floor by the table next to the door. In the bedroom, the screen in front of the bed was switched on. Bedclothes on the floor and a few clothes in the middle of them. Vera could not take a step without memories of that terrible night flooding back. She gazed at the clothes.
‘We must look for the electronic logs.’ Carda handed her a pair of gloves. ‘Put these on.’
Again, Vera was not surprised by Carda’s behaviour. He came prepared. Had he known what he would find in the flat? He was behaving like an expert investigator or like someone who knew what to look for. As usual, he did not reveal any more than was strictly necessary. Vera tried not to stray too far. It was essential that she be present if Carda found anything. She veered between complicity and mistrust. As they searched, they tried to leave things where they had found them.
‘There’s nothing.’ Carda stood up in the middle of the room and looked around him. He looked impatiently at the time. More than five minutes in breach of security was an eternity.
‘The food in the fridge has gone off. He’s been missing for weeks.’ Vera closed the fridge door.
While Carda looked in the fridge, Vera went to the back door. She could clearly see fingerprints on the edge of the glass. Behind the curtain, more prints which merged with someone else’s. Two or three hands, perhaps. She imagined them struggling with each other. Trying to get in or out or both. She bent down and traced the fingerprints along the glass. It was when she was crouching down that she saw the membrane hooked onto two brackets on the underside of the table. Vera turned around to check that Carda was still poking around in the fridge. With her head against the edge of the table she stretched her arm as far as she could to reach it almost at the other end by the wall. Leaning on one hand she gently unhooked the rolled-up membrane. She was about to put it quickly into her jacket pocket…
‘Well done,’ Carda put out his hand. He was standing by the table watching her movements. Vera got up and put the membrane into his open hand. They eyed each other with uncertainty attempting to explore each other’s depths.
She would not let Carda take the membrane away with him nor did she expect him to let her have it. They both knew they would have to carry on together until they achieved clarity. Once back in her flat it took Vera a few minutes to decipher Daniel’s password. Carda took charge of the membrane regardless of Vera’s unspoken wish. His excuse: that Vera should investigate Daniel’s avatars and confirm or discard his link with Cf as a player.
They sat side by side, each with a membrane in front of them so as not to lose sight of the other’s movements. It was late and they were tired. How long would Carda last without dropping exhausted onto the desk? Vera would not endure it much longer either. Her eyes were red after days of long hours of play.
‘Dead? Another suicide? I don’t think so,’ Carda surmised.
‘Whatever it is, it sounds irregular.’ Vera figured Carda knew more than he was letting on. Each minute in silence in front of the membrane increased her sense of unease. Every time she could, Vera leant back to try to see the content of the screen in front of Carda.
‘Look.’ As if guessing her intentions, Carda spun the membrane on its axis with his finger. ‘It can’t be suicide. It’s not on police records. It must be voluntary disappearance.’
‘I don’t understand. Do you think he was involved in the construction of Cf? In that case…’
‘Not only would a bonus not be in order, but there aren’t any irregular deposits in his account either. If he received this supposed bonus, either it was not money or it was under the counter.’
Vera stared at him.
‘We should still make sure.’ Though Vera was being more cautious with her assumptions, they appeared to understand each other perfectly within their differences.
It was dawn by the time Vera finished checking all the information in the thousands of PEF pages. Carda could barely hide the fact that he was nodding off. He sat up in his chair, startled by the voice next to him.
‘I’ve finished checking all the records. He didn’t play VWCf with any of his avatars. The chain of suicides linked to the game has been broken.’
‘I knew it. So I hope he’s written the code. If not, we have nothing.’ Carda shook his head and forced his eyes open, squinting several times. ‘I can’t do any more. The letters are swimming before me.’
‘We should rest.’ For Vera it was a relief that Carda should admit to being tired.
‘Zillo arrives tomorrow afternoon.’
‘We won’t get anywhere this way. We have several hours to carry on in his office tomorrow morning.’
Vera was not the only one to hide her mistrust. Carda was constantly analysing her attitudes. He would have to find out soon what Vera kept in the bedroom, which she not only considered private, but would not occupy that night. He was sure that sharing the living room with him would not have been her first choice. Carda would have to wait for an opportunity to open that door.
Vera increased the temperature in the living room and gestured towards the couch where Carda could lie down. On the other side of the room by the door to the bedroom Vera put an air mattress on the floor and pressed the button with her foot. The mattress shook as if coming to life and was ready in seconds. Vera lay down with her back to Carda. She switched off the lights with a voice command. The uncomfortable silence lasted longer than either of them wished. In spite of their exhaustion their eyes were open wider in the dark than they could bear.
She was not sure if Carda’s deep breathing on the other side of the living room was threatening or protective. Had she underestimated him? Was it pure chance that she had not come home alone that night? They had not spent a minute apart. Even though she had not been forced, Vera felt tied to his presence. On his side of the room, Carda’s breathing did not signal rest. Alert, he was waiting for Vera to fall asleep so that he could sneak into the bedroom. Getting to sleep would be so easy if they stopped struggling. If they caved in and began to trust one another.
The lights went on in the living room. Vera surfaced from a deep sleep. The daily music announcing the morning started up. It had been a long while since she had rested so serenely. On opening her eyes she almost forgot that C
arda had slept at her flat. Or maybe not. She kept still with her eyes fixed on the ceiling. After those first seconds in which the mind adjusts to recall earlier events which lead to present consequences she sat on the mattress and looked warily towards the couch. The first thing was to check that Carda was still there. It was what she had dreaded. The couch was empty. Vera jumped up, ran to the bedroom and opened the door. It was all just as it had been. Except that Carda was not in the flat. Neither was Daniel’s membrane.
She chewed her tooth tablet and reflected as she cycled to Vatican Inc. Her intuition had almost disappeared. She did not know what to think. She could only review the absurdity of her actions. All she had to do was turn back, take from her flat the few things she would need to survive. Just leave, as she had wanted to do year after year. There was nothing left to reflect on or consider now. On the contrary, if she carried on she would be increasingly entangled in something unimaginably obscure. She risked a punishment which could compromise her freedom for ever. For ever. The decision had never been clearer. Free will was an aspect of her personality she had barely cultivated. Now it pushed her like an unstoppable current.
Vera went into the building as if giving herself up for sacrifice. When she opened the door to Zillo’s office, there was Carda with Daniel’s membrane. Even if he offered her an explanation, Carda had broken the trust Vera had bestowed on him when she allowed herself to fall asleep. That was enough. Even worse, Vera did not know that he had gone into her bedroom before leaving the flat. He had left her asleep with no possibility of making any decisions. Carda’s intentions were more of an unknown entity than ever. Vera approached slowly, expecting a reaction.
‘The brain has around one hundred million neurons. Each neuron is a collection of atoms. Like the components of a computer.’ Carda was talking obsessively. Nothing mattered more than the information he had begun to churn out in a fit of revelation. ‘Brain waves have different frequencies. In the physical world, thought occurs at twenty cycles per second, four when asleep. If it’s done at ten cycles per second, thought is balanced.’ Carda offered Vera Daniel’s membrane. Vera remained standing a short distance away.
‘The method is explained in this document. The right-hand side of the brain governs intuition, imagination. It’s the dormant side. It is tyrannised by the left-hand side which deals with the physical world, reason, logic and efficiency. Only rarely does the brain operate at intermediate frequencies, except when passing from wakefulness to sleep or vice versa. However, it’s the intermediate frequencies that provide the conscious use of the brain’s right hemisphere, our spiritual connection. For this the ideal frequency is ten cycles per second, known as the “alpha level”.’
Carda, immersed in his customary intensity, in spite of his stubble and haggard look, was devoted more than ever to the task in order to isolate himself from other thoughts. He was not going to mention it, but the traces in the bedroom had been poignant. When Carda had entered that room chaos had become ordered in unmistakable signs. What Vera could recall as hurt, Carda felt in his imagination. The deep-seated realisation of what he had never had. That room revealed it in a single, incorruptible flash. The love that survived in the chaos. There Carda was an intruder. On leaving he had shut the door with a delicacy of which he had never been capable before.
The files in Daniel’s membrane gave him back his presence of mind. Vera went up to Carda. The distance again seemed insurmountable.
‘Vatican World Cf interferes with the alpha state, the state of connection to intuition, spiritual wisdom, proximity to…’ Carda avoided naming it if he could. ‘In scientific terms, it activates the right hemisphere of the brain to connect with the morphogenetic field. It’s the same thing as harmonising intelligence with a higher understanding, in spiritual terms. Religious people call it God. Others, a higher intelligence.’
‘So why does it provoke the opposite, the destruction of beings?’
Carda raised his hand without looking up. Although he did not have the answer he continued reciting the information to avoid letting that tenuous but emphatic moment of understanding escape.
‘According to this paper, the left brain is characterised by separation, difference, polarity, constant duality. The right brain does not see differences, but equality. On balancing the perception of differences, we are in harmony with the superior intelligence. The human brain has psychotronic energy which can be programmed. I think there can be only one conclusion to this. The game manipulates the right-hand side of the user’s brain.’
PART VIII
Zillo entered through the side door straight into Martino’s office. He left his briefcase on the table. Ten screens reproduced in miniature the fifty screens in the security room next door.
‘They’ve been there all morning.’ Martino touched the screen so that Zillo could listen to the conversations from an hour earlier. Zillo scrolled through using the surface of the screen, choosing the moments. Just a few seconds of conversation were enough for him to know what they were talking about.
‘So we have nothing from yesterday.’
‘I enabled the cameras in your office when you asked me to this morning.’
From Martino’s office Zillo watched the images with a blend of incredulity and bewilderment. Martino stood waiting looking blankly at the stone inner courtyard. He didn’t like to draw any conclusions. He left that to his boss. He felt much more comfortable just following orders. Zillo removed the card. The live images being activated made him react. Yes, it was Carda and Vera in his own office.
‘…something which the user can’t fight against.’
‘We must contact the World Government right away.’
‘We can’t do it from here. Don’t go away. I have an idea.’ Carda left Zillo’s office.
‘It’s essential to neutralise him. I’ll take care of Vera. I need her.’ Zillo had recovered. Martino left his office impassive.
Zillo pressed Individual Tracking and sat in front of the two screens. The ones which in a few minutes would put an end to years of collaborative work. The lines on Zillo’s face seemed suddenly to deepen while he followed Carda’s footsteps down the corridor on the screen.
‘I could have asked you to write the code for the entire Cf. I didn’t want you to pay such a high price. I tried to avoid it. Daniel was dispensable. Not you. Now you leave me with no choice. I saved your life and this is how you repay me. I can’t help you.’ Zillo laid the palm of his hand on the cold surface in front of him. He lifted the headset from the desk.
‘He’s coming here. Let him in first.’
Carda knocked on the door.
‘Come in.’ Zillo, his back to the door, continued staring fixedly at the screens. Vera in his office was reading the documents which should not have fallen into her hands.
Carda opened the door and saw Zillo in silhouette sitting with his back to him in the swivel chair.
‘Martino?’
With his feet firmly on the ground Father Zillo spun the chair around. The usual smile, as if he had been expecting him. Carda was stunned by the image before he blacked out and fell to the ground at Martino’s feet. The Head of Security pushed Carda’s limp body aside. Father Zillo avoided looking at the ground. It was an absurd scene, witnessing his golden boy felled like a criminal.
‘You know what you have to do.’ Zillo left the office to find Vera.
Vera was processing the information Carda had revealed to her. While she read the document on Daniel’s membrane she asked herself who Carda was and why he was bent on the same search as her own. He was a reserved man. He had been unpleasant and competitive. Maybe Vera’s perception did not reflect what he had expressed. It had been her interpretation. She had let herself be swayed by circumstance. Perhaps her perception had been as wrong with so many other things. Once again reality was not what her senses suggested. The truth slithered away to show another truth which had been hidden. She wondered if that truth would slip away again to reveal that it wasn’
t real either.
Zillo entered his office with his usual calm air. Vera was pleased to see him. His was the only face she recognised from the past. Like Benedita, Father Zillo had always been there. To support her, to give her an opportunity. The congregation had many reasons to be grateful to him.
‘Father, thank goodness you’re here. Have you seen Carda?’
‘Yes, he’s with Martino.’
‘Has he explained it to you? There’s a problem in Cf.’
‘He only said you were going to explain something to me.’
‘First I need to ask you something.’
‘Tell me, Vera.’
‘Is Daniel Lo the confidential Cf programmer?’
‘As you’ve said. It’s a confidential security matter.’
‘I know, Father. But I have here his membrane. It doesn’t specifically mention Cf. But we believe he has interfered with the code. We found a document suggesting as much.’
‘Have you spoken to Daniel?’
‘No, Father.’
‘You’ve appropriated his membrane.’
‘I know it’s not right. It was necessary.’
‘What are you suggesting, Vera?’
‘We believe there is a subliminal device in Cf which is responsible for the suicide of thousands of people who play the game regularly.’
‘There’s no need to start panicking. Whatever it is that’s not working will be corrected. An attack by the media would destroy Vatican World. It would do irreparable harm.’
‘We must find Daniel Lo.’
‘You’re the best, Vera. There’s no need to involve anyone else. I shouldn’t say something that gives me away,’ Zillo tried a smile. ‘but obviously the years have taken their toll on him. I thought Daniel was on good form. He has been out of the industry for too long. You could rewrite the code in due time and replace it.’
‘That could take weeks. We can’t wait. The population is killing itself. We must alert the Department of National Security so that they can alert the World Government. We should recall the product.’
The Vatican Games Page 17