Although he could not tell what was happening beyond the countless backs that obstructed the view, the aroma coming from there triggered a rumbling inside his abdomen. He noticed that there was indeed an order amid this tumult and decided to stand at the end of the line that stretched from one end.
It took him several minutes to reach the counter of this metallic hut, inside which a huge pot was boiling; the undoubted source of the scent that had forced him to stop. Behind him, the woman who was following him waited on line. Across the bar were two men and a woman, the three of them busy, fixing the dishes to be delivered to their many customers.
The older one asked him in a hurry:
“What will it be?”
Then he realized that he did not understand at all what was happening, so he decided to answer:
“Same as the gentleman,” pointing to the man who was walking away.
In a blink of eyes in his hands was a bowl containing a kind of greasy broth, through which some chickpeas and a few chunks of meat could be seen sitting on the bottom. There were some green herbs that he failed to recognize floating above all, along with a handful of chopped onion.
Not five seconds had elapsed when from the cook’s spoon fell a thick dark red liquid with small seeds, which sank to the bottom of the dish after splashing, followed by some lemon juice squeezed from the press that the man held in the other hand.
He made him a sign to move to the next stop, where he received a new dish, this time flat, with a few small disks, similar to crepes but yellowish, on which several small chunks of meat seasoned in the same way than the broth were steaming.
A few steps ahead he had to rest his load to take the wallet and settle the account, and in doing so he received a set of plastic cutlery.
He found his way out of the crowd and sought a quiet place to taste such exotic dishes.
He did not have to walk more than a few yards to find the entrance of a building that was closed for the weekend. The cold access stairway would provide the space needed to let the feast start.
Once his hunger got sated it was time to resume the tour. The aroma of the broth had impregnated his clothes, and on his palate was still dancing the wide variety of tastes and aromatic accents discovered just minutes before.
Now joy had replaced the uncertainty suffered when, without having thought it much, he lined up to get served at that iron shack. Thus, he went on with a jaunty gait.
Going ahead he ran into a street lined with long rows of tables filled with goods of all kinds. Roofs and canvas walls protected them from the elements. A crowd swirled between sidewalks, traveling from one point to another not seeming to follow any rule, asking something here, inspecting something else at the next stop, to finally engage in discussion with the seller offering the goods that had caught their interest in an effort to set a fair price and acquire them.
He wandered among the crowd for over an hour, trying to assimilate the ways of the place; finally he stopped before a display of clothing.
He had spent the last few minutes analyzing how those who crossed paths with him were dressing, and he chose some garments that he deemed similar to those wore by the majority. He did not want to attract attention.
He tried to negotiate the price, copying phrases heard from others, but for some reason he felt that he had failed to obtain the expected reduction just as others who he had watched. In short, it wasn’t but something more to be learned. Practice would teach him.
His next step would be making contact with the dissident community. He had been told that this would not be easy, as most of them preferred not to flaunt about their past, and there was a good reason for discretion, since within certain circles of this society they were often tagged as opposition bloc agents and treated like spies.
But he knew also that refugees that made contact with them were always willingly accepted within the group and supported to establish. He could not understand why the officer who provided him the means to get ahead, like clothes and cash, and then took him to the very door of that hotel, had refused to give him instructions to locate those who he had advised him to find.
He wandered through the streets, trying to engage conversation with many people in his way, but every time that he brought to the talk even the most subtle insinuation about the bloc from which he was coming, the conversation was cut and his interlocutor turned the back on him.
He was building with increasing intensity the impression that the place where he came was, at best, an uncomfortable reality that most of the people on that side of the world preferred to ignore and that made some more feel threatened. However, he could not figure out another way to connect with people like him, so he was determined to try as many times as necessary.
When night fell he was a few steps away from his hotel. He had started his way back an hour earlier just to avoid traveling on the elevated train. Now he was walking heavily from physical fatigue and mental exhaustion, the result of having failed every time he had searched information. The only thing in his mind was to take a hot bath and then throw himself on bed. He was beaten.
An incipient dawn was heralding Sunday’s sunrise when the memory of the magnificent meal that yesterday had broken his fasting came again. He hadn’t to think it twice. He stood up swiftly to repeat the prior day’s routine.
As it had happened since his arrival, each one of his movements was being watched. This time he would head in a new direction to spend the day in the same task that had led him to exhaustion just hours before. He needed to find someone who would facilitate the resolution to his uncertain situation; however, as the day wore on the outcome of each one of his trials was the same. No one wanted to know anything about the matter that now had become an obsession to him.
His desperation was showing on his face when, late in the evening and hid by the darkness of the corridor, he turned the knob to enter his room. His second day of inquiries had ended just like the first one, in a frustrating failure.
He was barely opening the door when a strong shove in the back forced him face down on the bed. Inside, the two fellows he had seen two nights ago, first through his window and later over dinner, were waiting for him. When he managed to turn around he recognized the woman whose presence he had noticed the day before, when in line at the food stand.
The three intruders surrounded him as he lay on the bed, resting on his elbows, unable to hide his surprise. Finally he broke the silence.
“What’s going on? Who are you? What do you want from me?”
The shorter of the two men replied:
“We make the questions here. First of all, we want to know how you got here and what you want.”
“I’m a dissident who arrived on Friday. I seek asylum. I come in search of a peaceful life fleeing a world that made me feel oppressed. I have taken great risks to get here.”
“Well, the first thing you have done is to break our laws. Your first duty was to go to the authorities to ask for asylum and you haven’t done it. To us you’re just a regular spy.”
Hearing these words he got startled. Among the things that had crossed his mind since his arrival this was the only one missing. He hadn’t thought that he could be violating the law. This word was no more in the vocabulary of modern corporations. He was again in the middle of a muddle.
While traveling in the back seat of the car where he was forced in, he killed time observing the man sitting next to him. His face was covered with scars, undeniable indications of his violent nature. He had a cold void gaze and a heavily built up body. He wouldn’t provoke him. His mere presence instilled fear.
Moreover, the woman driving looked nice. Her eyes conveyed joy, but he should not rely on that. After all, she had just demonstrated her physical skills when she threw him so violently into the hotel room. The third man should be the head of the group. He had been at ease during the trip, and like the others, kept silent.
The sounds and the vibration that suddenly filled the air let him know they
had left the pavement to take a dirt road. The city had been left behind by much. The headlights of the vehicle pierced the deep black of the night, revealing an uneven terrain.
There had to pass 45 more minutes for the car to finally stop in front of a log cabin that looked uninhabited.
For the following days the only people in the place would be the four travelers who were arriving at that time.
From that point the methodical questioning and the unstopping sampling by the application of electrodes across the prisoner’s body became the main activity of the occupants of the cabin.
His sleep was interrupted at any time with a new test, just to induce him after it into a semi-conscious state and then put him again to sleep, until finally he lost track of time.
He was despaired. He would happily tell them whatever they wanted to know if only he knew what it was; however, he could not understand where they pretended to get with the incongruous questions with which they bombarded him once and again, that the same were about his former life, or his path of escape, or the answer to a simple arithmetic operation.
The numberless pains that afflicted him started from the center of his brain to go through every joint and every member of his body, manifesting as joint twinges and tingling in the muscles, and ending with the strong pressure he felt on his toenails.
In such a state of suffering and helplessness the countless minutes of his captivity would pass.
After a few days, when his exhaustion was such that he could hardly stand on his feet, he finally heard the words he had so eagerly awaited:
“It seems that you’re clean. We may leave.”
The excitement that filled him along with his overwhelming fatigue made him ask tremulously:
“Does this mean that I will be released?”
“I’m afraid not. Only that you will get the opportunity to earn the right to stay with us, but there is still much to be done. You’ll know what when the time comes. For now, we will move to a cozier place.”
11
The car sped along the distance between the cabin and the grand building that housed the Bureau of Intelligence, the unit to which the three officers guarding the valuable prisoner in it were assigned. Sleep had taken hold of the main passenger from the time of departure. He hadn’t awakened for a single moment during the journey of over 250 miles.
Their destination was close, in a city next to that in which the passenger had spent his early days in this part of the world.
After traveling the last stretch of the journey, the vehicle circled the gray walls that guarded the main building and entered the perimeter through a side door; then it rolled on the pavement across the gardens to finally stop at the door of a neighboring building.
Two people came from inside, a man and woman dressing in white; both of them ready to receive the new host.
The agent riding in the back seat tried unsuccessfully to wake the occupant next to him. In the end, they had to carry him to a wheelchair.
The man in white drove the newly come into the building while the woman addressed the responsible for the delivery:
“You overdid again?” she asked sarcastically.
“Just the routine procedure. He’ll soon wake up.”
“Hope you’re telling the true. Last time it took us nine days to get your client back in shape.”
The three agents did not answer; they simply turned around and left. As far as they were concerned their mission had been successful. It was none of their business what might happen thereafter.
Still in a state of deep sleep, the newcomer was settled on a bed of the section reserved for intelligence recruits with special qualifications.
The doctor in charge of his recovery was precisely the woman in white who had received him minutes before, who now was sticking monitoring electrodes on his temples.
She looked to the system screen and a slight sigh of relief came out from her lips. No severe damage could be noticed in the patient’s brain structure. His recovery would only take a few days.
The hours had passed and the clock hands had turned to the morning hours. As the sun was raising one of its rays pierced through the window to find the still closed eyes of the sleeper. The effect was immediate. The grotesque grin that spread across his face did not fade until he turned on the bed.
His first feeling when returning to consciousness was the pain along his spine. It felt as if someone was stretching his back with a very strong pull. It seemed that his spine would crumble in any moment. The joints of his arms and legs were swollen and he could only bend his fingers withstanding the strong pangs at their flexing points.
His head was not any better. The pain reminded him that of looking naked eye to a very intense light source.
He remained in this position for a while, reviewing recent happenings in his mind. He had to open his eyes again to make sure that he was no longer in the log cabin. The soft touch of the bed made him understand that he had overcome the proving of the previous days. Despite all his hurting he could not help smiling. Then he decided that he was still very tired. He shut his eyes and tried to sleep a little more.
By the afternoon he was sitting on the bed, enjoying a hearty meal. While his overall condition had gotten better, none of the pains that plagued him was completely gone.
He still was doing the last bites of dessert when the doctor came briskly through the door. She approached the bed and cheerfully greeted him:
“Hello! I see you’ve awakened. How are you feeling?”
“My body hurts so much and in so many places that I wouldn’t know where to start; however, I feel calm, and this alone is being better than in any other of my recent days.”
“I see you keep optimistic. I congratulate you. There is no better medicine,” she started. “I have some information for you. Let me finish before making any questions.”
She made a short pause before continuing:
“You are lodged in the residence for special recruits in charge of the Bureau of Intelligence, which I work for. I do not know what makes you a special recruit, or even if you truly are a recruit, but in this place you may move around without worry. The staff is here to help you. Other residents will treat you politely, just as we expect you to treat everybody else. You are allowed to roam the premises without restriction, but you should not get close to the main building without authorization. There is no rule that forbids you to speak with people within the perimeter in which you have been authorized to be, but I recommend you to keep your personal life away from the talk, and in the same way, you should not expect anyone here to discuss their private affairs. Keeping a circumspect attitude is always appreciated in our business. Now, about your medical condition, I think that you should stay under my care for two or three more days, until you’re back in a perfect shape. We will both agree at what point to declare you recovered. From that time on you will become part of the recruits corps and the officers in charge will take command over you. Any questions?”
“Lots of questions, but none of them that aren’t of a personal or private nature, as you have warned me, so I guess I’ll have to wait to find the answers.”
“Well. I see you have understood. Be welcome and enjoy your rest. None of us know what the near future will bring you. Good luck.”
With these words she dismissed herself and left the room with the same flair she had come shortly before, leaving the man standing in a sea of questions.
The key word in her speech had been “recruit.” He couldn’t guess what it could mean, but he had a feeling that it would bring trouble; if there were something that common sense could tell him at the time that was that the terms intelligence and recruit used in the same sentence could only lead into danger.
He struggled to put his mind blank. He must live in the here and now, and nothing else, and the time was perfect to rest, so it took him no more than five minutes to fall asleep again.
Over the days, care and rest made effect. His pain had completely vanis
hed and he was full of energy, and now he was spending much of the time walking around the gardens while trying to guess the reason to be kept in this place, and getting attention so close to excellence.
He could understand that in return something very special would be asked from him, but he could not quite solve the riddle that this posed. However, he knew he should not wait very long for the truth, because this evening he was scheduled to meet in the main building with the head commander of the Bureau of Intelligence.
There were still a few hours to go before his appointment and he had decided to enjoy every minute of calm before the deadline, preventing that the uncertainty about his future disturbed his recently acquired tranquility.
When the time came he walked steadily across the lawn, along the path that joined the residential annex to the main building.
He walked to the front door and crossing it he announced himself to the ordinance officer in charge of access. The result was immediate. A guard was appointed to escort him to the office of the supreme head of the intelligence service.
To his surprise he found out that the massive building that could be seen from the outside was just a sort of giant dome covering an underground maze of corridors and offices, whose number increased while going deeper.
When the elevator stopped its descent the number 93 read on the door, which opened to let them see the immense logistics room, where dozens of people were watching countless terminals, all them oriented in the same direction as the giant screen. Hundreds of tiny lights were twinkling or still in the giant wall, which spread a faint bluish light that provided a touch of mystery to the other colors of the environment.
At the opposite end of the room was the access to the commander’s office. Up to that point he was guided by his guardian, who had stick to him the whole way. As the personnel in charge of floor security relieved him, the escorting officer turned on his heels and got out of sight with uncertain direction.
Minutes later he was received by the supreme commander. The big armchair where he settled was flanked by his two trusted men, always standing and in alert.
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