2085

by Alejandro Volnié

  “What did you feel when you got to know that you had been replaced by a replica, which now takes your place in the world you just left?”

  “The news hit me like a thunderbolt. Among the possible consequences of my desertion that I had foresaw, this was not covered. I do not have trouble understanding the reasons that the corporation may have to act this way, as the myth of infallibility of the leader must be protected. A deserter from the group of persons hand-selected by him indicates that an error in judgment was made, and this is unacceptable within the standards of the organizations. Personally, every time I think that a copy has usurped my position, anger comes over me and I feel an uncontrollable desire to destroy him. I imagine him doing every day what I used to do and enjoying the company of the woman I have lost. Using my most precious possessions, such as my golf clubs, and chatting with people who I liked so much without even one of them suspecting what has happened. I feel betrayed and brought down to nothing more than a toy being manipulated by the leader. I had the hope that Lucy would choose to follow me when she found out that I had defected, however, the replica who now occupies my place has taken care of burying this dream. Moreover, I had come to think that my example would be followed by others, so I have also been bereaved of the opportunity to leave my footprints engraved in history, and my actions have been downsized to a mere unnoticed happening which no one ever will get to know.”

  “How do you feel now before life?”

  “While still living my life of the last 40 years, I vindicated my existence in my feeling of being part of a huge organization, which I liked to believe was the mere truth brought into matter. The continuous development of science by corporations, applied to promote peoples welfare, made me think I was a kind of benefactor of the community by the simple fact of working for one of them. In recent weeks, however, I have begun to see me in a completely different way. Before falling into the hands of your intelligence central I had come to see me as a free man, in charge of my own life and confident of my actions. Now, having found out that I am just a pawn in the game that the powerful are waging, that I am in the hands of the establishment in charge of the place where I am, with no more rule to decide which one has the power in a given time but mere geography, I have come to understand that I really am a warrior whose primary mission is to survive, and that my survival will lie on achieving success in the mission you have imposed to me. Circumstances have turned me into a wanderer who will walk every day a path that will not lead him further than the next sunrise. Until having gotten back my freedom, I will remain in the hands of those issuing the orders and I am decided to endure and willing to fight to the end.”

  “Well. We will call this day off if you guide us to your room.”

  The recruit was worn out. He had completely forgotten that to earn the right to rest he should still find the way back to his room. The idea wasn’t funny at all, but he knew he had to undergo each of his mentors’ instructions. He rose slowly to answer in a deep voice:

  “Whatever you say.”

  Professor Kilgo stepped forward and opened the door; then he ran a parsimonious gesture inviting him to go ahead.

  He walked until he was standing in the corridor. He turned to both sides. Then he stood thoughtful for a moment, trying to decide which direction to take. Suddenly he felt his feet were setting off. He walked at a leisurely pace, followed a few feet behind by the professors, how now were chatting not paying attention to him. He went on up to the second intersection, there he turned to his right; then he walked to find the second corridor, where he turned left. He stopped twenty yards ahead and opened the door of his room. When he turned to look at Kilgo and Naim, they were not there. He entered the room and lay on the bed without taking his boots off. So he fell asleep.

  16

  The new morning brought along a change in the routine that had filled the recruit’s hours until then. This day he had woken up earlier than usual and his head was buzzing with questions meant for the professors. He was hoping that this day he would be allowed to ask so he could get some answers.

  The usual knocking on the door rang on time. He opened with a smile, but only to be surprised. This time it was a man dressing the regulation uniform for the instructors of the field, who with a firm voice plainly ordered to follow him.

  At this point he understood that his sessions with the professors had come to an end, so he simply obeyed without any questions.

  He followed the officer a few steps back, walking quickly down the hall to reach the door leading to the outside. They came out to the training yard, where at this early hour one could see several groups doing their morning exercises under the commands of the instructors’ whistles. His feeling of being inside a military installation, vanished during the earlier days, was suddenly back.

  They crossed the esplanade to the building on the opposite side. They passed through the entrance leaving aside the guards at both sides. They walked down the corridor that now stretched long before them. When they reached the end they entered a narrow office whose scarce furnishings were limited to a rustic wooden desk, some chairs and a bookcase.

  The officer leading him took of his cap. Then he sat behind the faded wood of the desktop and invited him with a gesture to do the same on the opposite side. Now that he was looking straight at him he could tell he was a middle-aged man. His light brown skin was marked by numerous small scars and his military style haircut left uncovered two small but prominent ears whose lobes stuck completely to the back of his cheeks. His black small eyes seemed to be too close to each other, leaving just enough space for his sharp nose. A set of thin lips completed the picture, providing him the looks of a cruel man.

  They both fixed eyes on each other for a thorough scrutiny until the officer’s voice broke the silence.

  “I am Captain Bladek. As of today you have been assigned to my command. You must not have any communication with anyone outside my group, which will be introduced to you as it becomes necessary. During the next few days you will learn everything you need to know for the execution of your mission. You will come to this office every morning, or to that where you are appointed, precisely at seven o'clock. You will not be allowed to wander through this or any other building or field of this complex if not accompanied by authorized personnel. Have you understood so far?”

  “Yes sir!”

  The answer that had automatically come out of his mouth surprised him. Until then he had not felt to be a part of a military organization. To find himself responding as any other element of low rank, without his will having mediated, was something he had not expected.

  The captain opened one of the desk drawers. From it he took a thin pile of photographs, which he put on the surface.

  “Check these pictures and tell me what you see in them,” he commanded.

  The images showed him in different instances of his daily routine, either getting out of the car or walking on the golf course, in the company of Lucy or his playmates. After having reviewed them carefully and without being able to discover the secret they were supposed to hide, he dared to answer:

  “Those are simple pictures that have been taken while I was unaware. The only thing I notice is that I am in all of them.”

  The captain took a while before answering:

  “These images were obtained a few days ago. The subject in them is not you, but your replica. Check them again.”

  He went again through the prints, one by one, but this time looking at them more closely, until he finally answered:

  “It seems that this man has gained weight while I have lost it.”

  “That is correct. We estimate that there is a weight differential of about ten pounds between you and him. To fulfill your mission it is essential that there is no difference in your body features, so you will begin a diet that makes you gain precisely this difference. You will eat as many times a day as you are told to, and while doing so you will finish all of your servings. We have little time to get you ready bec
ause with every day that passes the probability of being discovered during you raid gets bigger. Your replica establishes new relationships and lives new experiences every day, which will be unfamiliar to you when impersonating him, therefore posing higher danger. You have ten days to get ready. Now I will take you to Sergeant Yun’s office. He will explain you the basic procedures of our workforce.”

  After his short speech, Captain Bladek stood up and began a short journey meant to end just a couple of doors ahead, where Sergeant Yun was waiting. The office where now they had entered did not differ essentially from that which they had just left. The rustic and the worn out prevailed in all offices, which abounded in the building.

  The sergeant rose from his seat with a quick movement to salute the officer in the traditional way of the military. Bladek replied with a careless gesture.

  “This is the recruit you have been waiting for. From this moment he is under your command. He must take oath immediately.”

  “Yes sir.”

  Who had answered was the man in charge of training the staff of the office of intelligence assigned to espionage in the art of manipulating the plethora of gadgets that supported their work.

  Yun was a tall and thin man of athletic looks. His face, of oriental factions, let guess he was about 35 years old. His strong jaw and small expressionless eyes, coupled with his military style haircut, made those seeing him to feel he was a cold and blindly determined man.

  The brief ceremony during which a recruit was transformed into an agent consisted simply on swearing allegiance to the supreme chief of the Bureau of Intelligence. Although the protocol bordered casual, for the members of this paramilitary organization was an adhesion contract to which they gave the maximum weight, and on behalf of which they would not hesitate to risk their lives or take that of any companion who dishonored his word.

  Sergeant Yun went around the desk to stand before the agent in the making. Beside them the captain was standing, hands clasped behind, to serve as a witness. He started the ceremony at once, sticking to the usual method.

  “Raise your right hand!” Yun ordered to the astonished novice, raising his to set an example.

  He slowly took his forearm as high as his shoulder, putting the palm to the front as it was shown, and once in this position he waited.

  The sergeant’s pompous voice filled the small room:

  “Do you swear absolute loyalty to the head of the Bureau of Intelligence?”

  The recruit was hesitating to answer, so Yun added:

  “Answer: I swear!”

  “I swear,” he replied haltingly.

  “Do you swear to protect, even at the cost of your life, the safety of this organization as well as the life of any agent who is assigned in mission with you?”

  “I swear.”

  “Do you swear to never reveal to any person any orders, tactics, information or procedure that in the exercise of your work may be revealed or commented to you, or simply found out by you?”

  “I swear.”

  “Do you swear to fulfill each mission that you are assigned, regardless of the risks you will have to face to emerge victorious?”

  “I swear.”

  “Now, repeat after me: That my head roll on the floor in shame should I fail to my oath.”

  The last words of the sergeant caused him a panic surge.

  He was a peaceful man with no predisposition to violence. The mental image of his head rolling on the floor sent him a shiver. Then he suddenly realized that from that moment he would become a soldier to the service of an organization to which he did not really feel any obligation. However, he had been recruited by force and now they were imposing him rules and obligations that seemed too heavy. Yun’s voice brought him back from his thoughts.

  “Repeat!”

  He took a long breath, swallowed the saliva that had gathered in his mouth, and with a trembling voice recited:

  “That my head roll on the floor in shame should I fail to my oath.”

  He had managed to repeat it, which instead of having made him feel relieved had filled him with regret. His mind had turned to disconnect from reality as he had let his thoughts run. He recalled his first days in training camp and how the many hours he had shared with the professors had made him feel good, but now he was distressed. He did not know the details of the mission he would be assigned, but suddenly, after having been forced to utter such words, he had begun to fear that it might be more than what at first had been revealed.”

  The sergeant’s voice interrupted his thoughts to let him know that he should go to the office across the hall, where the officer in charge of starting his instruction was waiting for him. He turned around to find the door, but Yun’s voice made him stop at once:

  “Agent!”

  This was the first time he was called this way and he disliked to listen it. He turned to face the sergeant, who continued:

  “As junior staff you must salute your superiors when coming and when leaving. Salute now and leave!”

  The situation was becoming really unpleasant. In the world he came from, armies no longer existed as such. Security was handled in a mechanized way and by little personnel. It was a rare event to find uniformed personnel in some place. Military protocols were considered something left in the past.”

  Now he could see clearly why they were considered underdeveloped. Their methods seemed drawn from a historical documentary; however, he had to adapt. He raised his right hand and saluted his superior in the same way he had saw him do it when Bladek entered the office, and having done it he left the room towards his new destination, leaving the sergeant with a smirk on his face.”

  He crossed the narrow corridor and knocked on the doorjamb with his knuckles. From inside the office, a female voice invited him to enter.

  The door was ajar, so it was enough to push it gently to open it. This office did not differ from those he had got to know this morning.

  Behind the desk a young woman was sitting, and two men facing her. All wore the regulation uniform of the intelligence office. As the novel agent noticed the gals in the neck of the woman’s cotton shirt, he stopped and saluted. The uproarious laughter that arose in unison from their three gorges was immediate. Again, the rookie was perplexed. He could not understand the reaction caused to the occupants by his entry. As calm returned, the woman greeted him casually:

  “Hello! Welcome. I will be the coordinator of the mission to which you have been assigned. You have done a beautiful salute in your arrival, we are impressed; we can see that Sergeant Yun did a good work with you, but among us it will not be necessary. Within our group we will relate in an informal way, as is the custom. This way it will be easier learning to trust each other.”

  “Glad to hear,” he answered relieved. “I find it hard to get used to the military ways.”

  “We all will use nicknames and will call us by them until finishing our assignment. I will be Control, you will be Mole, he will be Guide,” she said pointing to one of the men, “and will be responsible to lead you to enemy territory, and he will be Voice,” this time pointing to the other man, “and will be in charge of communications. We know you have an appointment with the cook in a few minutes, so we will grant you the time to show at the cafeteria, which is in the next building, to take care of this delicate matter. See you back as soon as possible. We will be in this same place. Enjoy.”

  The thundering laughter with which they said goodbye went on as he walked down the corridor looking for his second meal of the day. It hardly was ten in the morning and he felt breakfast still dancing in his stomach, but he knew that complying with this particular provision was important, so he was willing to do whatever necessary to gain the weight he was missing.

  Once in the cafeteria, while trying to finish the abundant food he had picked up at the bar, he was struggling to contain his thoughts. He knew he should take the upcoming events as casually as he could, but he had no idea of what might happen next so he was distracting hims
elf by looking around this big room that at the time was empty, with the only exception of the kitchen staff, busy behind the bar, preparing food for the day. The obese cook turned his gaze towards him from time to time, fixing on him his eyes, barely open among his bulging cheeks, as if watching that he completely finished the huge serving he had gave him minutes before.

  He chose not to pay attention to him. He better changed the course of his thoughts. The woman he had met a while before had caused him an unexpected pleasant impression, so he focused on her. He would not have imagined finding such a cheerful personality within this militarized facility, governed by order and discipline. She seemed too young to be in charge of a high-priority mission. She looked no more than some 25 years old, and her agile and lean body gave her an air of innocence. His dark eyes sparkled with joy. Her light brown skin looked clean and smooth. Her hair, gathered behind her neck, let see two small ears, and when smiling she showed her white perfectly aligned teeth. He was feeling attracted to her naturally, despite knowing that, under the circumstances, she was completely out of reach. On the other hand, the sense of loss he was suffering for his separation from Lucy, coupled with his uneasiness from knowing that he would see her again in a few days but with no hope of recovering her, was completely freezing his desire to know another woman. And yet, he could not help feeling some uneasiness at her unexpected presence.