“So?”
“So in theory the WMO is a respectable, legal organization. It is so well recognized, and so well protected that nobody questions it. I don’t know about all their activities, but I know what’s happening to us. They are studying our behaviour, we are case studies. They’ve been monitoring us since we were toddlers, perhaps even before we were born”
I struggle to process the information. Ronny is cruising slowly, and I look out the window. We are surrounded by crops now, and the street is so it can hardly fit a car.
After a pause Ronny continues.
“They’ve taken me away from my natural parents. My adoptive mother works for the organization. At first I think she simply wanted to study my behaviour, but then she started to perceive me as her son. Regardless of her feelings I am fairly sure I’m still treated as a case study, I am still in the organization’s stats. The organization is stronger than the individuals who are part of it, and I doubt my adoptive mother could completely stop the fact that I am being monitored even if she wanted to. She worked to shift my role slightly though, and I got hired to check on other case studies, make statistics, do some sort of mathematical modelling of their behaviour”
This is too much to believe
“I don’t know what you’re saying”, I say
But Ronny just looks at the street and drives.
“I’ll bring you to a farm in Belgium. We’ll spend the night there. I hope my contact will call me by tomorrow”, he tells me
“How did you get to know you were a case study? And how do you know you are not being watched now?”, I insist, “And who is your contact?”
“My adoptive mother tried to hide from me the fact I had been adopted. By now she must know that I’ve learned much too much. I had my microchip removed when I reached Amsterdam”, Ronny tells me
I look at him.
“Check if you want. The stitches are covered by a band aid”
“They don’t tell us that we’ve been adopted and they place microchips on our shoulders…”, I whisper
So that’s what they do with all of us, their test cases.
“Yes, they microchip us and induce us to believe our adoptive parents are our natural ones. The idea is that we shouldn’t suspect we have another identity. They want to understand the role of people’s genetic patrimony on their behaviour. I suspect they are even trying to create predefined types in vitro, but I can’t say for sure. We’ll have to find out…I need to find out…”, Ronny says, and leaves the sentence in mid-air.
“Ok, one thing at a time. Your mother tried to hide the fact that you had been adopted, because?”
“Because if you suspect your roots are elsewhere you’ll try to find them. It’s human nature. They want to avoid that. The idea is to disconnect you as much as possible from your cultural background and evaluate how much your genetic patrimony will dominate your behaviour regardless of your life experiences. If your parents are drunkards, will you be a drunkard? If they are successful, will you be successful? How much of what your parents are sticks to you? How much of what your grandparents are sticks to you? Their projects run through multiple generations. They prefer to take brothers and sisters, and twins are even better, it’s easier to compare their behaviour and make statistics. But then there are also case studies who are single children”
My veins are throbbing so hard I can hear them.
“You have a twin?”, I ask
“No, I don’t think so”
“Am I the only one you are supposed to monitor?”
“No”
“And did you tell the other people you monitor what you’re telling me?”
“No”
“Why?”
“Because you are different”
“How so?”, I want to know
“I broke into the system because I was interested in a specific person, I wanted to know more about her. And then I found out about myself, and you…”
He pauses for a moment.
“My twin?”, I ask, my heartbeat accelerating further
“No”
“Then what is the connection between this person you were interested in and me?”, I ask
“None”
“So what about this person?”, I insist
“They made her disappear”
My blood freezes
“I don’t get it…how did you get to find me among all case studies? Will I disappear too?”, I ask after a moment
“You and I were in the same folder”, Ronny tells me, leaving the second question unanswered
“Explain”
“The system classified us as potential rebels based on our DNA type and our natural parents history. They knew we would probably not accept what was told to us and find a way to dig further, to question appearances. That’s why I was assigned directly to a person who is a part of the system, a doctor who could monitor me closely. That’s what my adoptive mother is: a doctor at WMO”
“And what about me?”
“The same is true for you. Your adoptive parents also work for the system. Considered you and I are here trying to find a way out, I suppose the system has pretty good predictive tools, I must give them that”
I am so stunned I cannot speak and when we reach the farm few moments later Ronny has to shake me awake from my thoughts for me to realize the car has stopped.
Chapter 23
A mellow light seeps out of the farmhouse’s windows, filtered by old fashioned curtains.
“Who’s in there?”, I ask and all of a sudden the greyness of the sky closes in on us with unexpected heaviness.
The door opens before we ring the bell.
“Right on time”, says the man who opened the door with a slight accent I cannot place, and a voice calm and penetrating at once.
He can be about 50, but I am not too sure. Tall and supple, with dark slick hair and charcoal eyes, beard unshaved from two weeks.
“Did the trip go smoothly?”, he asks Ronny, and then, addressing me, “I’ve been expecting you, Iris”
“All went as planned”, Ronny replies
I stare at the man a moment longer, trying to define him.
“You must wonder who I am”, he says
I nod, without taking my eyes off him.
“I’m Antonio”, he tells me and gives me his hand, looking at me just as intensely as I look at him
“Let me get you a cup of tea”, he adds after a moment, and disappears into a room I assume is the kitchen
I look around. In a corner there’s a stove I’ve only seen in museums, and that seems the only heating device around here. The place is almost cold now that it’s summer, and I wonder how this house could be inhabited during the winter. The paint has puffed in different spots, and yet there’s no feeling of shabbiness. There are large beams on the ceiling, who knows how many generations the nodulous wood has seen. Such an old place…
Ronny puts down his bags in a corner and follows Antonio.
“Come”, he tells me, swinging himself as he clings onto the kitchen door, and all of a sudden it all feels so homely and familiar, for that one gest I did not expect.
I smile and head to the kitchen, letting myself fall on a chair.
Antonio sets a red mug in front of me, and I automatically cup my hands around it, bending slightly, as I inhale the sweet rose-smelling flavours exuding from tea.
“When you and your sister were kidnapped the relationship between your father and your mother Laura fell apart. Your mother was with you when you were kidnapped and your father could never forgive her for letting this happen. Your mother blamed the loss on your father, accused him of being absent all the time”, Antonio tells me
I hold on to the cup, as if its warmth could heal me.
“Your father was a businessman, he travelled all the time leaving your mother alone for extended time periods during her pregnancy and when you and your sister were born his presence remained elusive. Your mother felt abandoned. I never understoo
d how she fell in love with your father, the two of them were so different…”, Antonio continues, and then pauses again
There are so many questions burning on my tongue, and yet I don’t speak a word. Antonio’s account is painful to follow, it’s not even what he says but the way he says it, the hesitation in his voice, his expression. I feel that if I interrupted him now he would not be able to continue.
“But then I too am different from your mother, and I loved her. We knew each other since we were born, you know? Our houses were close, in Barcelona…I always felt for her, but she was unobtainable, cheerfully elusive, in part on purpose in part without even noticing. I found her lightness irresistible. But I digress. Laura was an independent woman, but after your birth we became quite close…”, Antonio tells me, and stops again
“You were her lover”, I say
“Yes. I wished you were my kid”, he admits, laying the words plain in front of me
“But I am not”, I reply, suddenly defensive
Antonio smiles sadly.
“I am not trying to lay claims on you”, Antonio replies, his eyes clinging onto mine
Then he bows his head, plunging back in his own personal memories, and continues, “Laura withdrew too when she felt trapped…I suppose she loved your father because of the same reasons that hurt her. It was his elusiveness that charmed her”
“What happened to my father?”, I ask, realizing that at this moment it is him I want to know about the most
“He disappeared and, I am sorry to say, I never cared to investigate where he ended up”, Antonio tells me
I nod.
“I am a journalist and when you and your sister were kidnapped I tried to do what I could to run my own investigations in parallel with the official ones. I discovered…”, he starts, but then his face goes blank, before twisting into a startled expression
I’m about to turn around when a noise, incredibly loud, stops me short. The lights go off and something falls on me. It’s awfully heavy, and it hurts, but then…
Chapter 24
I don’t know what happened, but the lights are on now. My head still hurts, but overall I am more confused about what happened than in pain.
Antonio is still staring with a blank expression at something behind my back.
“Wilhelm…”, he whispers
When I turn around I see my own traits reflected into those of a man of about 50 standing on the door, a revolver in his hand.
“So you never cared to know where I ended up? That was a mistake, Mr. Journalist”, he says
Words choke in my throat, and I stare at my father, my heart thumping wildly.
“Come with me, Iris”, he tells me, “I will bring you where your mom and sister are”
I get up slowly. I have a skewed perception of my movements, but I move towards my father as he keeps holding his gun towards Ronny and Antonio.
“And you, don’t move!”, he commands. He’s not yelling, but his voice resounds strangely loud in my ears.
“Why are you back just now? Where have you been?”, asks Ronny, and his voice is calm.
Right. Where has he been? But instead of answering my father looks at me and says, “Let’s go home, Iris”.
“How do you know my name?”, I ask
“I’ve never left you baby”, he says
“But then why was I not with you?”, I insist
“You’re with me now, just come with me”, he tells me
“You’re full of lies”, I hear Ronny say, but his voice is somewhat distant
It’s strange how I can’t really define where it’s coming from.
“Where is mom?”, I want to know
“I will bring you to her”, he repeats
“No! Tell me where she is!”, I scream
“Iris…”, I hear
This is my sister’s voice. I don’t see her, but I know it’s her who is calling me even though I’ve never heard her voice before. I turn my head just slightly. The dizziness is overwhelming, I feel I will collapse on the floor at any moment.
“Veronica…”, I hear myself say
“Iris…”, her voice echoes
“We are together, again. After so long, we are together again”, another voice tells me. It’s mom.
I hear her sobs, and all of a sudden I break down on the floor, and I gasp, and the pain is in my throat, my ears, my head, so strong I cannot get even get myself to cry.
Finally the tears come, and when somebody picks me up I can no longer see, or hear, or speak, but I am relieved to let the world outside dissolve.
Nothing really matters anymore.
Chapter 25
I open my eyes to a dimly lit ceiling. I’m lying on a bed where I’ve never been before, and it smells of old fashioned soap, as if I have landed in a long gone past. I turn my head around and I see Antonio sitting on a chair besides me, clasping his head between his hands.
“What happened?”, I whisper, my voice an odd sound I hardly recognize
Antonio starts. “Thanks God”, he says
I wait for an explanation which doesn’t come.
“We have to be very careful now and we couldn’t call a doctor, but you…we didn’t know what to do…”, Antonio tells me
He looks so startled it scares me.
“But I am fine, I promise”, I reassure him
“You were talking in your sleep…”, Antonio begins
“So nobody knocked me on the head?”, I want to know
“No…no, you just passed out for no reason. Probably it’s the stress you are going through…but how do you know your father?”, Antonio asks me
I look at him blankly, stunned at the question.
“What do you mean, how do I know my father? I don’t know my father”, I say
“But you were calling his name during your sleep”, Antonio insists, and now he is looking at me intensely, as if determined to dig out the truth I am hiding
“I dreamed he was here…it was nothing but make-believe. My father looked like me, he said he had always been with me and other nonsense. So I just passed out like that? I thought someone knocked me on the head”, I insist
Does Antonio believe me? I can’t get myself to trust him either. Was my father nothing but a dream? But Antonio seems too frightened to lie.
So my father was nothing but a dream. Weighed down as I am on this bed I feel farther from finding Veronica than I’ve ever been.
“Ronny told me he would bring me here because it’s safe. But I don’t want to be safe. I want to find my sister. Did he get the phone call he was waiting for from…his contact?”, I want to know
“His contact will try to bring your sister here, but we shouldn’t rush things”, Antonio tells me
“I’ve waited 24 years, isn’t this enough?”, I reply angrily
“We will find Veronica, I promise”, Antonio almost whispers, taking my hand
I retract it defensively
“So did Ronny’s contact call or did he not?”, I insist
Antonio is about to say something when I hear a cellphone ring.
Chapter 26
“This cannot be. Your source is mistaken”, Ronny replies to whatever is being told to him over the phone
Silence.
“You have a picture”, he says, and I can’t tell if it’s a question or a statement
After a moment he says, “Will do. I am switching on the PC now”, and walks somewhere close to my room
I hear him typing on the keyboard.
“What’s going on?”, I want to know
Antonio flips his palms in a gest of impotence to tell me he doesn’t know
I stir in the bed, but Antonio gently pushes me down and brings a finger to his mouth
“No…”, I protest, and yet I let myself drop on the pillow, eyes shut
“God…”, I hear from the other room
“What is happening?”, I ask again, without opening my eyes
Antonio gets up, I hear his ste
ps and when I open my eyes he is no longer in the room. He and Ronny are right next door, and everything is silent for a moment.
“This is impossible…Laura had only two girls, Iris and Veronica…but this face…”, Antonio mumbles
My body is a dead weight now. Eyes closed, my body immobile, I picture myself walking out of bed.
Then I focus, I gather my strength.
The touch of the floor on my naked feet sends a shiver through my spine. I stand uncertainly, teeth clutched, my skin cringing into pointy goosebumps. I make my way into the next room, my hands pressed onto the wall to guide my teetering steps.
When I enter the room Ronny and Antonio are mesmerized by the computer screen, they ignore my presence, they ignore the voice resounding from the other end of the line.
“Do you believe me now?”, I hear it speak from a distance
A face looks at me from the screen. Same eyes as mine, same nose, perhaps a slightly different twist of the mouth, a smirk that is foreign to me.
It’s not me, and it’s not Veronica, but it’s as close to us as it can be.
“The picture was taken in New Orleans…”, the voice echoes from the phone
A sudden thunder shatters the sky and the rain breaks, slashing the windows. The light illuminates the face, and twists it into an evil grin.
You’re not alone, I hear it promise me.
Chapter 27
I lean on the door not to fall. The hinges squeak, Ronny and Antonio start at the noise.
“Iris”, Antonio tells me, and I don’t reply
There a pause, the silence of the night is covered by my breath resonating in my ears
“You are Laura’s kid, this I know without doubt”, Antonio says, as if this could somehow extinguish the presence of my duplicates
“What is the foundation of your certainty?”, I ask coolly
“I’ve never left you baby”, he says, as my father did – as whoever was playing the part of my father in my dream did – and I freeze
“Your mother never recovered from what happened to you. About one year after you and your sister disappeared she was diagnosed with cancer. I think she could have fought it, had she not been so desperate…”, he starts and his voice breaks
So my mother is dead. I cannot speak, I wait for him to continue.
“Right before she died she made me promise that I would find you and make sure you’d be fine. From that day I’ve had the mission to…”, he starts
“You’ve found me now, but how can you tell that I am Laura’s daughter? Why me and not the other ones?”, I interrupt him
The Missing Link Page 6