2085

  “I’m glad you got here in such a good time. What do you know of my companion?”

  “You mean the one who is coming riding a horse?” answered the man pointing to the mountains Mole had just descended in a frantic gallop.

  Mole’s face lit up. He was smiling relieved. Guide was approaching to join the group, riding 16 on a trot. It seemed that he had managed to lose his pursuer without going through as many predicaments as him, and then the sight of the helicopter had let him know where they were.

  When the rider arrived, the pilot of the ship had joined the huddle and everybody was chatting animatedly.

  “How did it go with the biker?” Mole asked Guide as he had set foot to the ground.

  “At first he almost caught me, but in a bad move he plunged into a ravine that ends just at that end of the slope,” he answered, pointing to the highest part of the mountain. “You should go get him,” he added, now addressing the pilot.

  “We will leave this to someone else,” was his reply. We have instructions to take you back. Who here is Mole?”

  “I am,” he replied.

  “You are going to the building of the Bureau of Intelligence, while he will go to a training camp.”

  “I was guessing so,” said Guide. “It seems that this is as far as we will get as a team,” he went on, now addressing Mole. “You’ve done well for a rookie.”

  “We must wait for the staff that will pick up the horses,” the pilot interrupted. “Gather your gear at once.”

  Mole approached his inert companion, and with a strong tug released the saddlebags that were pressed between the heavy body of the animal and the ground. He slapped on its rump as farewell and went to the ship, which awaited engines running.

  They had to wait about 15 minutes for the truck dragging the horse-trailer to get there. The pilot waved to those arriving, who returned the sign as well. He immediately began the ascent.

  Mole felt his stomach sinking as the ship ascended dizzying to the sky, heading towards its first stop at the Bureau of Intelligence.

  They had flown just over an hour when the gray silhouette of the building got in sight against the white clouds rising from the horizon. This picture unleashed in him a torrent of feelings. He knew that his adventures as an intelligence agent were over and that the group to which he now felt to belong was about to disintegrate and become nothing more than a pleasant memory.

  The people with whom he had shared the most recent two weeks of his life would depart forever, leaving him no chance of finding them again in the future.

  In the short time that he had been a part of the intelligence service he had acquired the feeling of being useful and of belonging to something bigger than a stuffy organization, such as the one that had employed him during the recent 40 years of his life.

  Having acted in a physical rather than intellectual world had brought him closer to nature. Now he feared losing his newly regained sense of being part of it.

  Moreover, he had not spent much time meditating on the direction he intended for his life once released from his commitment to the Bureau of Intelligence. He had been offered help to settle down after coming back from the mission, but they had not explained him what this help could be. He did not know to what extent he would be allowed to participate when choosing his future and he indeed was not sure of wanting to know. Only one thing he knew for sure; his new life should keep him closer to nature. He was not willing to spend the rest of his years inside an office.

  The shaking of the ship when it touched the ground brought him out of his thoughts. This stop was meant to be brief; just to leave the passenger. Then again it would take off to fly away from him forever.

  Mole turned to Guide and holding his gaze shook his hand firmly for a few seconds. He was saying farewell to a friend in whom, in such a short time, he had learned to trust blindly.

  “It was a great experience. I’ll miss you,” said Mole.

  “Until soon,” replied Guide. “You have earned your place among us.”

  Without another word he took the few personal effects that he would keep, and thanking the pilots for the trip he opened the door of the helicopter to set foot ashore. He walked away with his head low, as if to avoid being hit by the blades spinning above him.

  As he had got a few steps away, the ship began to climb amid the thunderous beat of its blades. On land awaited the manager of the residence for special recruits, where he had stayed during his visit of a few weeks before.

  “Welcome back,” he greeted. I will take you to your room. There you may relax.”

  “Thank you,” said the agent. “What I really need is to bathe.”

  “You have this whole day to recover and fill your report,” the man said while handing him an envelope with the forms for review in writing the facts of recent days. “Tomorrow morning you will meet our commander. Meanwhile, take this time to rest. You know the rules, so I don’t need to repeat them.”

  It was 9:45 in the morning when the doors of the building of the corporation finally opened, allowing the entrance of the crowd that thronged outside awaiting authorization to get to their workplaces.

  This situation was exceptional. No one could remember that an event like this had ever happened; however, minutes before nine o’clock had begun the evacuation of the few who at the time were already inside. The order was to wait outside until the security personnel authorized access.

  The leader had been driven to the roof by the agents of the Internal Security Central, who had been in control of the offices since the security alarm triggered, and now he was on board a helicopter without having the slightest idea about his destination. He had no explanation to what had happened, but he was certain not to be guilty of the serious violation of one of the confidential files; the one that had been published this morning on all terminals within the building. Dozens of employees at all levels were already onboard buses to the clinic where they would immediately be isomentalized to fade from their memories any recall of the information that had been revealed to them during the incident.

  This morning, from the private workstation of the leader had been conveyed to all terminals the contents of a highly confidential file named: “Position of the Reaction - Monthly Update;” the same file that had triggered the consciousness of a senior executive several weeks before, finally urging him to defect.

  The computer virus planted by the agent after intruding the system of the corporation last Monday had given the desired effect, starting a series of reactions that inevitably would bring serious consequences for the leader.

  All members of the elite group should submit this same Thursday to provide mental backups, which would be meticulously analyzed during the weekend. Meanwhile, they would remain secured.

  As for the leader, the decision was already taken. While being kept in seclusion to undergo a thorough behavior study, his replica, kept in suspension to be used in an eventuality, would be animated. He would be taking his place thereafter. The man under arrest was doomed to disintegration. Such were the policies of the council.

  Mole’s revenge could not have been more fair and accurate. He had taken an eye for an eye, thus fulfilling the oldest justice code that mankind can remember.

  30

  Friday was dawning and the agent was finishing the long forms that made the report of his mission. After having slept 14 hours he had woken up at dawn to fulfill his last obligation to the Bureau of Intelligence. He had an important meeting scheduled for nine o’clock.

  Despite having spent several hours meditating on his future, he had not come to decide what he really wanted, and as the time for making a decision was approaching his uneasiness was growing.

  The road between the residence and the entrance to the main building went unnoticed to him as he had walked in introspection. The voice of the guard at the door made him come back to reality:

  “What do you want?”

  “I have an appointment with the commander at nine,” he replied.<
br />
  “Just a moment.”

  Seconds later came a guard to escort him on this way, now familiar to him. He could not help the newly acquired feeling of belonging to this place, which was making him to move confidently. His impression of the first time he had entered the building now had faded away, including the view of the great operations room and its thousands of twinkling lights.

  The commander received him on time. The scene inside was the same that had surprised him before. The important character was flanked by his two henchmen. As with last time, he invited him to take a seat with a gesture, but this time an unconcealed smirk was relaxing his grim expression.

  “Congratulations,” he broke the silence. “We have achieved excellent results from your raid, but you must explain the fuss that rose yesterday in the offices you intruded.”

  He felt a pressure on his stomach when he heard this. With so many issues hovering in his head he had forgotten the virus planted in the system before departing. It seemed that it had taken effect, which by itself was making him glad, but he had no arguments to explain this action. After all, while leaving a trace of his incursion he had jeopardized the outcome of the mission.

  “I had a couple of spare hours and I could not resist the temptation to take revenge of the leader. I understand that I have acted wrongfully, but I could not refrain from doing it.”

  “On the contrary, nothing could have been more appropriate. Once you have made the security personnel’s attention to be focused in the behavior of the leader, and that a backup has been made to your replica’s mind, which we all know is perfectly clean, the chances that your raid go unnoticed have increased. At least, this is the report we have received from our undercover agents in the corporation.”

  “Glad to hear it. For a moment I thought I might have spoiled the mission.”

  “You have earned what we promised. Have you decided what kind of life you want among us?”

  He took a moment to respond. Then he began with a shaky voice, as if he doubted to have the right answer.

  “I cannot make a decision, although I know for sure I want to live in a rural community.”

  “As a first option we had considered precisely to settle you within a farming community consisting mainly of people who have fled before you. There you may find it easy to blend in.”

  “It sounds appealing.”

  “We will provide you a small farm and enough capital to survive your first year. This is much more than what we usually grant as refugee aid, but this is an exceptional case and the service you have rendered is invaluable to our security. Do you find this to be adequate?”

  “I think it is great,” he said revived.

  “As we do the paperwork you will take a vacation. What do you want to do?”

  “I need to think. Possibly some place quiet and remote.”

  “We will take care. You will leave tomorrow morning. Meanwhile, take a nice rest. I do not need to remind you that your pass through the Bureau of Intelligence must be kept in absolute secrecy for the rest of your days. That’s the price you pay for your new life.”

  “I understand and I will.”

  On the way back to his room, the feeling of triumph that had filled him since his return was gradually changing into one of deep loneliness that threatened to sink him into depression.

  For the first time since his defection his life had ceased to be under threat. He finally had gained some certainty about his future, and although this should cheer him up, the absence of external stimuli had made him turn his attention inwards to find out that something very important was missing but could not tell what.

  He spent most of the day wandering around the impeccable gardens surrounding the main building, dedicated to introspection, going over and over the recent events, trying to find a sense to the solitary life he was foreseeing and doubting once more on his own ability to relate. The ease with which had developed affinity with many people in recent days and the way they all had been taken away in just a blink now was making him feel frightened at the idea of getting close to others.

  The emptiness he was feeling could not be filled even by the words from Naim and Kilgo. The self-assurance that the professors had instilled in him now was gone. Suddenly he had got to feel that something had been missing all this time, something he had been unaware of until he had had time to think.

  Now he had realized that his love for Lucy had worked as a substitute for this he had always lacked, and that after his departure, uncertainty and fear had taken over to keep him distracted, to prevent him from noticing this void that has always existed within him.

  The lonely life he was promised from this time was causing him to panic. He was afraid of solitude, of staying alone with his memories. He knew that in isolation he would be prey to remorse and regrets. He was not prepared to deal with this.

  He desperately needed the endless busy hours of the prior weeks and the fatigue they had given him that had made him collapse exhausted into bed each night with no time to think. He was hardly living his first day of leisure and did not see how to overcome it.

  When night fell he was sitting under a leafy tree. He had not moved from this spot for several hours. He had not even gone to the dining room after breakfast, so his stomach was empty.

  The fresh air from the mountains, which usually came down at this time, suddenly made him feel cold. He stood up to start with a slow pace. His mood had not changed. He decided not to go by the dining room. His appetite had left him. He better went to his room to hide in sleep from his thoughts. He needed to escape from reality.

  In the morning a messenger bringing the envelope with his instructions of the day woke him up. He sat on the edge of the bed, still half asleep, and received the package. He was not really interested in its contents. He was guessing they would send him to a resort, possibly on the beach, for a few days until it were time to take possession of his new property. He was not excited. His sorrow of the day before still persisted.

  Now he was trying to understand why finally having achieved his goal at the expense of so many risks and sacrifices had brought on him a feeling of abandonment rather than the happiness that was to be expected. He made nothing to find out the contents of the envelope. He just went to the shower hoping that a morning bath would have some effect on his low mood.

  A while later he was heading to the dining room to break his 24-hour fast. He was carrying the envelope still sealed. After all, a warm shower had raised his mood. The grunting from his stomach as the aromas from the kitchen reached his nose put him again on alert.

  He went along the bar setting on his tray whatever dish he found appealing, until he came to notice that it was too much. Not giving big importance to the contents of the tray he sought a secluded table and got ready to mitigate his hunger, which suddenly was threatening to become uncontrollable.

  It seemed that now he had regained his habitual good disposition.

  “Nothing like satisfying a real need to feel alive,” he thought. “Too bad I cannot eat all day,” he ended his thought ironically.

  Once finished the hearty breakfast he was feeling more willing to open the envelope. Now he was optimistic and was thinking that a trip to the beach would do no harm.

  The instructions were brief. Along with a pass to use the bus network, an address was being provided; also the register number of the car that would take him to the bus terminal just a couple of hours later, a voucher to get from the stockroom the garments that would make up his luggage, and a card to get some cash.

  “Well!” he said, “a little uncertainty at last. Let’s see where this is going.”

  He had slightly over an hour left to board the assigned vehicle, so he decided to go at once to the stockroom’s window.

  At least now he was busy again.

  31

  The bus dropped him off at a small village between the steep mountains that demarked the vast plain where this journey had begun. He went to the exit door to board a taxi,
holding the paper with the address of his destination.

  Judging by the landscape it was easy to tell that he was not heading to enjoy the beach vacation he had imagined. The uncertainty about the nature of his fate was keeping him busy, trying to guess what it could be. Now he was presuming it would be a leisure resort, possibly a spa. The idea did not bother him at all. The trip was amusing him.

  The idea newly planted in his mind to become a farmer was little by little becoming more interesting because he had come to find that physical work carried along nights of complete relaxation in which he could keep his mind free of the stress that for so many years had been a part of his mood.

  He went to the only taxi at the door of the station and handed the driver the paper with the address of his destination.

  The casual and friendly ways of the people of this region emerged as the man in charge of the vehicle approached him:

  “Looking for a little peace?” he asked with a smile. “I hope you brought your sandals.”

  “Sandals?” the passenger asked.

  “And a tunic,” he added with a laugh.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You must keep an eye on your hair while you are there. I have seen more than one coming back with a sleek head.”

  Now he was really confused. He could not figure out in what kind of place might happen things such as the merry fellow in the front seat had predicted.

  “Well, what kind of place is this I am going?”

  “Didn’t they tell you? Better find out by your own,” he ended as he burst out laughing.

  The road they took was narrow. It seemed it had been carved into the slopes full of pines. To one side there was the stunning cliff, increasingly higher. The ascent was continuous in an endless sequence of hairpin turns threatening to get the passenger dizzy and keeping the driver tense enough to finally stop his talk.