Awakening, 2nd edition

by Kuili, Ray N.

  When Chris finished, the first reaction came from Paul.

  “By the way, ” he said, “I pay my taxes even when I don ’t trust my government. Trust or no trust —either way you ’re going to get screwed. So you folks better think twice.”

  “Exactly!” snapped back Chris. “So why don ’t you think and let others think , too? It doesn ’t take much brain s to badmouth something . . .”

  “Doesn’t take much brain s , huh?”

  “Actually, none.”

  Paul had already inhaled a lungful of air ready to retort with a bitter answer, when Kevin suddenly broke in: “What does the father of our constitution have to say about this?”

  “You talking about me?” clarified Michael. “I ’d rather not add an ‘amendment .’ Too farfetched.”

  “What’s so farfetch ed about it?” Chris asked defensively .

  Michael looked him straight in the face.

  “Everything, ” he said. “From encouraging people to form alliances , to a straightforward sabotage. It ’s too tempting and you know it. If you want to fine-tune the process, add more rounds to the voting. You get five candidates after the first round, then you go for the second one. You keep doing it until you have only two left. Another round—and you have the winner. With your proposal , this will be getting out of control.”

  “True,” Joan ’s voice sounded, vibrating with unusually angry tones. “We ’ll be getting out of control. But do we want any one of us to have control?”

  Michael turned to her, but she was already looking away, speaking to everyone else.

  “I personally like this rule. In fact, I love it. And , to my recollection, no one here has the veto power, although some of us like to behave as if they do. So why don ’t we test this voting process right here and right now? We need to make a decision, so let ’s vote. How about that ?”

  “As you wish, ” Michael said indifferently.

  “Just make it a secret ballot, ” Stella asked, smiling sweetly.

  Chris shook his head .

  “We’ve got no secrets here. Should we discuss more before we vote?”

  Joan waved him away.

  “There’s nothing to discuss. We ’ve been yammering for a week now. So who ’s for adding this rule?”

  And her hand flew up swiftly.

  “Seven,” reported Chris after counting the hands. “No need to vote against.”

  “Done,” said Joan, n ot trying to hide her satisfaction with the result. “Let ’s move on.”

  “Wait,” Chris said , and for the first time in the last few hours the familiar commanding tones sounded in his voice. “Don ’t rush. Alex, Ross, Kevin, I ’d like to hear why you didn ’t vote.”

  Alex looked with interest at Ross.

  “I like to keep things simple. Mike ’s right : with every rule comes a loophole. You keep forgetting that someone in this room tried to blackmail me. So if you ask me , I ’d stick to what we ’ve got. Ross, what ’s your reason?”

  “I don’t need second-hand votes, ” Ross replied with regal pride. “I need my votes.”

  “And I don’t need more scheming around here, ” Kevin added.

  Joan snorted.

  “And schemers don ’t need rules. Alex ’s right —you guys have such short memor ies .”

  “So,” Alex said after a brief silence, “we have the rule. Are we ready to roll?”

  “In a minute, ” replied Michael. “I have a question for Chris.”

  “Yes,” Chris looked at him, resolute and all business.

  Michael’s face had an air of serenity.

  “Actually, I have two questions. One, what exactly did you mean when you said that today ’s events made you finally realize that our system had a flaw? And , two, how come I ’m the only one wondering about this?”

  Ch apter Ei ght

  “Now what?” Stella asked quietly.

  Robert took his eyes away from Ross’s plump face.

  “Now? Now everything ’s up in the air.”

  How true, Stella thought. How true.

  Now everything was indeed up in the air. Everything was unknown. Well, almost everything. Certain things were known and clear.

  For starters, it was clear that their entire thorough plan of finding and exposing the mysterious villain had almost gone down the drain thanks to Michael and his hard questions. The plan was built on the assumption that this very topic would be discussed at the end, on Friday. Discussing it then, after the dreaded voting, made perfect sense. The entire discussion was expected to lead smoothly to a rigid non-negotiable ultimatum. Today , the same discussion was completely premature and couldn ’t lead to anything good. And it didn ’t.

  At first, Chris rambled and mumbled for a minute or so, while Michael kept questioning him with the persistence and skillfulness of a professional interrogator. It didn ’t take long for Chris to cave in.

  As it turned out, he had quite a few interesting things to share with his fellow contestants, who by that point were all ears. Apparently, the bright idea about possible sabotage hadn ’t occurred only to those who were stuck on the illfated boat. It had also occurred to their rescuers, though with a lesser degree of certainty. After all, there ’s a difference between a severely damaged indicator and a misplaced walkie-talkie. But , well-grounded or not, this suspicion made its way into the minds of Chris and some others.

  Michael consumed this information with the utmost attention and thanked the speaker for his openness. Then he enquir ed quite innocently how exactly the freshly introduced amendment was supposed to help the situation. It would seem, he observed, that no real facts had been discovered, although the suspicion itself was definitely worthy. Would Chris be so kind as to explain his conviction and logic in this matter? Would it be correct to assume that Chris has a solid proof of malicious actions along with the saboteur ’s identity?

  Chris, growing noticeably irritated (frequent mood swings seemed to have become his staple for today), informed Michael that he was not in possession of such data but if he were to learn these details, the new amendment would come in handy. Michael didn ’t object to this statement, but suggested sharing new information with everyone, should it ever become known to Chris. In turn, Chris, having grown even more irritated, reminded Michael that just yesterday he was the biggest and most outspoken opponent of any sort of witch -hunt.

  The reminder produced no visible effect. In fact, Michael didn ’t even care to explain the sudden reverse of his position. The phrase , “That was yesterday ” can ’t be counted as a reasonable explanation, even if it is delivered in the utmost slighting tone. Having addressed others ’ curiosity, Michael , with the same drive , resumed satisfying his own. Wouldn ’t you think, Chris, he enquir ed, that our new amendment directly encourages this kind of behavior, assuming that the suggested actions indeed took place? Had one of the people in the room (he stopped there and his dark calm eyes swept the faces) really gone so far, he or she may go even further —or perhaps already had gone further. And if that ’s the case , this amendment becomes a perfect weapon for this malicious person.

  At that point Chris, his face as black as thunder, quoted Michael ’s own cla im that the actions of that notorious schemer (“A schemer ?” Alan almost yelled. “What schemer? A criminal !”) should be of no interest to anyone.

  This time, Michael was kind enough to elaborate. It ’s one thing, he said, to plant a fairly harmless note (“Yea h, right, harmless . . .” Alex muttered loudly). All right, a bad note, a mischievous note, but still—a note, a piece of paper. It is a totally different thing to do something that puts lives in danger. By the way—here Michael turned to Stella—did yo u notice anything suspicious on the boat? We ’re making some loaded assumptions here, but perhaps there was nothing wrong with it. Stella was just about to open her mouth when Robert answered. No, he said, the boat was fine. We just ran out of gas, that ’s all. Unfortunately, the standard equipment on a powerboat doesn ’t include a sail, you know. So
we had no choice but to spend the night. As for the walkie-talkie, it was just a coincidence.

  Sure, Michael agreed. A pure coincidence. It was blatantly obvious that he wasn ’t buying it for a second and that he was far from being thrilled by the “amendment .” Just a chain of innocent coincidences, Michael said after a long pause. For some reason everyone let this hollow pause hang in the air as if to let Michael have the last word.

  The walkie-talkie is a coincidence, Michael said. Out of gas—a coincidence. After all, you have to run out of it at some point, right? Especially if you ’re a rookie who ’s never taken a powerboat out for a ride. The planted note—a coincidence. Any other coincidences? Anyone? That ’s a shame. We could ’ve endured at least another ten. They are so innocent. But let ’s keep the faith. Who knows, w e may see another one or two soon. So let ’s get back to business. At least until we run into another coincidence.

  But he doesn’t know the half of it, Stella kept thinking while listening to the sound of the calm , slightly derisive voice. He has no idea about the indicator. And he knows nothing about Kevin ’s slanders about him, about that fictitious abused wife. He knows only a few rather minor things that had come to light. Though he doesn ’t mention every single suspicious fact. Take this new rule , for example. Isn ’t it a bit fishy? Quickly introduced , with the same rather shaky reasoning, quickly voted for, quickly accepted . . . Could it be another “coincidence ?”

  Something is happening here, she thought. Something invisible, intangible —something you can ’t really put your finger on, and yet something ve ry dirty, very dark, maybe even very dangerous. You can smell it in the air. But no one speaks about this. Everyone ’s too busy contemplating the next move. Suddenly, she realized that she was thinking about Michael with an unusual sense of sympathy. A t least he had spoken up.

  Exactly at that moment, Michael broke off. Everything was said and it was time to resume the interrupted process and listen to the speeches. And they would have returned to the speeches —had it not been for Ross. As Michael talked, he kept frowning more and more by the minute, swelling like a turkey cock. Apparently he was looking for a chance to express his thoughts. Finally his wait was over.

  “This is crazy!” he declared, his voice vibrating with indignation. “This is totally crazy.”

  “What is?” Brandon asked dryly.

  “All of it,” Ross looked deeply hurt. “These conspiracy theories just make me sick. Ran out of gas, had no walkie-talkie . . . So what? What ’s the big deal? Like these things never happen. What is it —everyone ’s a suspect now? Suspect for what? Show me the crime! You ’re talking about some minor inconveniences that happen every day. It ’s clear that it ’s nothing but hot air. Everyone one can see that! There ’s nothing—”

  “Speak for yourself, ” Alan interrupted him.

  At the sound of his tense, unfamiliar voice Ross coughed and stopped. Alan sat frown ing , his eyes fixed ahead of him.

  “Nothing’s clear here, ” he said, not speaking to anyone in particular. “For me, nothing is clear. I wouldn ’t be surprised if things happen. Bad things.”

  “I’m with you, ” Alex said grimly.

  He nodded to Alan, who turned to him with all his body.

  “You are right —someone is playing games here. Bad games. And it ’d very good to find out who that is. Before it goes too far.”

  Alan was looking at him quietly and there was something strangely heavy about his silence.

  “But don’t worry, ” a hidden menace surfaced in Alex ’s voice. “If we decide to find him, we will. And there will be consequences.”

  Alan didn’t speak a word.

  Chris sighed.

  “We’ll find him, sure. But that won ’t change a thing. By that time we ’ll be leaving —eleven losers and no winner.”

  “At least if we find him, he won’t make it to the top, ” said Brandon . “Just think about voting for him . . . Ah, ” his hand made a gesture of despise and he broke off.

  “Let it go,” Joan said with irritation. “Just let it go. Schemer or no schemer, we have to make it work. We have to listen, we have to vote, we have to pick a leader. Let ’s just get back to business.”

  Chris reacted as if he was just waiting for her words.

  “My time’s up, that ’s for sure, ” he announced, heading for his seat. “Who ’s next?”

  “I think I am, ” Ross reported enthusiastically.

  He looked at the scrap of paper in front of him.

  “Yes, it’s my turn now.”

  In the same fussy, hurrying manner he got to his feet. Alan stood up too and headed for the door.

  “Alan, you’re coming back soon —right?” Ross asked. “I can wait for you to come back.”

  Alan waved him away indifferently.

  “Just go ahead. I ’ll be back in twenty minutes or so.”

  “Twenty minutes . . .” Ross was taken aback. “But . . . that ’s all I ’ve got. I mean . . . you won ’t get to listen to me at all.”

  He looked like a hurt child.

  “I don’t need to, ” Alan replied, making his way to the exit. “I ’m not going to vote for you, no matter what you say.”

  The door closed.

  “Wow,” said Paul, breaking the complete silence.

  So that much was known and clear.

  The other fact that was known and clear was that , after spending some time rambling over Al an ’s demarche , they finally decided to get to business and Ross began talking. And talk he did —but listening to his smooth and dull speech , Stella couldn ’t let go of the sapping feeling of her time being wasted. Really, she kept thinking, how can you call him a leader? It ’s a joke. If we were to choose a leader for real, would I even consider him? Even for a second? I would ’ve laughed at the suggestion. And come to think of it, would I even think of some of the others in this room? Of Paul or Joan, or Kevin . . . or . . . myself—If this were a matter of life and death, even in a busines s sense, if it were about choosing a real leader of the pack, would I even want this spot? Not so sure about it. Not at all . . . Control, yes, I need that. I need to be heard, I need to feel empowered, I need to be empowered. But to be the one facing the darkness, while others follow my light . . . that’s debatable . Perhaps I ’d rather prefer to see someone I can trust and follow —someone like . . . Michael. Michael?

  Well, of all the people here , he , for whatever reason , comes to mind first. Calm, confident and in some subtle , ungraspable way , commanding. Rob, of course, beats him hands down in many aspects, but Rob is Mr. Superman after all. A dangerous “Cat That Walk ed by Himself .” But this is not the same. A different occupation, to use Brandon ’s terminology. Who , by the way , is also no match for Michael. He ’s reliable, he ’s rock-solid, he ’s by all means trustworthy and he ’s all about business rather tha n politics.

  But he plays by the rules. Michael defines them.

  And Alan . . . He’s got quite a character. Just stood up and left. Just like that. He ’s changed quite a lot in last two days. All of us have . Even yesterday this rotting feeling of suspicion wasn ’t hanging over us. And now I ’m listening to one of them and can ’t help but think, was it you ? Is it you I should be thanking for the night in the woods? What a great mood for choosing a leader.

  Although, clearly, some people look more suspicious than other. We all know who led that heroic rescue mission. There he sits, so big and so serious, listening attentively to Ross and showing not the slightest intention to follow Alan ’s lead. Despite the fact that he would never vote for someone like Ross . . . And yet he ’s listening and there ’s nothing but honest attention on his face. What if Robert had got it all wrong? What if one person had damaged the indicator, but it was someone else who saw a great opportunity and jumped on it quickly? And what if he was right? Then was it Alex? He ’s so intolerant when it comes to any kind of plotting. Is that all just a good show? Well, this one certainly is, b ut it ’s no different than sittin
g in a meeting, listening for hours to the useless, boring -to -death mumbling and boasting of some big shots. It ’s called being a professional.

  At any rate, one of these people deliberately damaged the boat. One of them is behind yesterday ’s ice bath. Indirectly, but still behind it. And despite all of this he (or she? Nah . . . this must be a man) has every chance of winning . Perhaps even more of a chance than others, since he won ’t stop at anything —a t least anything that can ’t be considered a criminal offense. And he might just win this race. Unless we stop him. And we will.

  Oh well . . . stop him or not , elected or not elected, this whole thing sucks . . . Yesterday’s excitement is history. Now it ’s so dull and stinky here. And on the large scal e , everything is indeed up in the air. The warm feeling of engagement has gone. Gone . . .

  She stretched her neck, fidgeted to get more comfortable in the chair and resumed paying attention to the dull, boring, useless flow of words.

  It happened during Paul’s speech. He had just finished painting a dark pictu re of the challenges he had to face daily (“ . . .No one cares, no one wants to do shit, all they want is to gossip all day long and to write some crappy reports . . .”) and moved on to describe some positive moments: “But of course, it ’s not completely hopeless. Otherwise, why on earth would I stay there? Occasionally things get done. Last week, for example—”

  Whatever accomplishment Paul ’s company had achieved last week remained a mystery forever.

  “Yes?” A half-familiar voice said in a tragic whisper. “Do you know where I am now?”

  It took Stella at least five or six seconds to realize to whose voice she was listening . She probably would ’ve been just as surprised had her chair started talking to her.