Variant Exchange

by Fox J Wilde

  She looked terrible. Both of her eyes were bloodily swollen, with one completely closed off. Yet it was difficult to determine where her eyes ended, and her face began. It was all a puffy purple mess, with cuts thrown in just to make it worse. Purple and red marks ran around the top of her neck as if she had been recently strangled, and her clothing was torn and covered with the gray of dirt and red of blood. She was scraped up and battered, with both her skin and the remnants of her clothing looked to have been torn by friction with pavement. She sat, with one hand across her mouth as if permanently immured in shock, while her other hand covered…“Oh God.”

  Adrenaline often works in degrees. Sometimes it’s fueled by a nice morning jog, or a kiss on the cheek from a crush. Every now and then, it’s stoked by the shock of someone appearing where unexpected, or an uncontrolled bicycle careening towards you. Rarer still, it can be a response to a threat of violence, or a full-on slap from someone that genuinely intends to hurt you—the resulting burst of adrenaline changes you into a creature capable of ripping off doors or punching through walls.

  Then there’s the burst of adrenaline that accompanies hopeless scenes like this, where you realize that something must be done, regardless of what modicum of logic still exists on the subject. The feeling of vengeance…an evil feeling. It’s a terrible, heart-pounding surge of such unbridled rage, that one’s own moral code falls completely by the wayside. As sweat gathers, fists clench, and vision goes pinpoint, your heart pumps battery acid and you realize that you are fully capable of genocide. It’s that once-in-a-lifetime surge of fluids that makes you capable of finding someone, wherever he’s hiding, and do things to him that shouldn’t ever be put into print.

  As anger roiled like an ocean inside of Lena, she began to see red…red, red, red. And whatever had happened, death was too quick a punishment for it.

  Yet as she stood there, looking at her very dear friend, the other less gratifying side of adrenaline eclipsed the other: reality. Slowly, as the futility of logic came closer into the picture, Lena realized that there wasn’t a thing she could do about Vivika’s situation. There was no one in the immediate vicinity to fend off; no one to torture slowly; no one to rip the balls off of and kill with fire; no solution that would make all of it go away. Whoever he was, and whatever he had done, he had gotten away with it. And nothing Lena said or did would change that.

  “V-vivika?” Lena said, walking slowly over to her.

  “I’m…I’m really sorry,” Vivika bawled, “I’m so sorry.”

  “What happened?!” Lena walked quickly over to her, but was pushed back.

  “Please don’t touch me, okay?” she cried. “I j-just can’t…I can’t let anyone touch me.”

  “Who did this to you?” Lena asked, shaking with anger, “Who hurt you?!”

  “It’s no one, okay?”

  “Obviously it’s not just anyone. Tell me Vivika!”

  “Really, it’s not anyone. I just…can I stay here a bit longer? I know I’m filthy, but…I don’t want to be alone at my place. Okay?”

  “Of course, you can stay, but…but…we have to get you to a hospital, Vivika!”

  “No!” Vivika cried. “That…you can’t take me there.”

  “But...”

  “You can’t take me to a hospital. Promise me, Lena!”

  “Vivika, you’re...”

  “Promise me. Please!”

  Lena didn’t know what to say or how to help her friend. She needed Vivika to tell her who had done this to her, and to tell her what had happened. Vivika clearly needed serious medical attention, and she needed to call the police for what little good that would do. Yet Lena couldn’t force her to say anything—especially not something like this. She had been brutally traumatized and was obviously scared out of her mind. Whatever she needed, Lena was prepared to provide it. But she did need medical attention. And…oh, this was so complicated.

  After thinking it through for several moments, staring at her bruised and beaten friend shivering on the floor, Lena resolved to simply say and do nothing. Vivika needed to feel in control, and she needed to have someone there. If that was the sum total of what Lena had to offer, well, she was happy to do it. So, she walked over to her bed and pulled off the blanket, before walking back over and draping it over her dear friend. Then, she plunked down right next to her and sat in silence. If her friend needed to talk, she would listen. Otherwise, she would be there regardless.

  It must have been a half hour at least. Vivika just sat there, bundled up tight, avoiding everything. Lena sat patiently, waiting for any opportunity to be more helpful. After a while, however, Vivika leaned over and put her head in Lena’s lap.

  “It’s…it’s so complicated...” Vivika sniffed softly.

  “I know it’s complicated,” Lena said, just as softly.

  “You don’t know,” she sniffed angrily. “No one knows. No one has any idea. I’m in a world of shit, and I’m going to drown in it. And I can’t do a damn thing about it. No one can.”

  Lena was still coming to grips with the situation. One thing had become very clear to her, however: Vivika was going to have to deal with this. Lena was nothing more than a resource for her—a very available resource. Whatever she wanted, she would get. That meant if Vivika just wanted to cry, or be mad, or swear, or…well, anything…that was exactly what Lena would support. No judgement, no responsible adult decision-making, no words of wisdom—just support.

  “You know I will help you anyway I can.”

  Vivika paused, thinking this through, before she plainly said, “I know.”

  Another half hour passed with Vivika curled up on the floor, her head in Lena’s lap, saying nothing at all. Her breathing was ragged and terribly fast, just like her heart which pounded so hard, Lena could feel it on her thigh. As the minutes ticked longer, however, her breath finally slowed. Eventually, her heart rate followed. Soon, Lena thought that Vivika was sleeping, so, she hazarded a touch, to pet Vivika’s head softly. Vivika jerked at the touch, but then stilled.

  “He’s such a monster, Lena.”

  “Will you ever tell me who he is?” Lena responded, stroking her hair.

  “No.”

  “Ok.” Lena replied, and that was that. For a few minutes, at least.

  “I’m so sorry I’ve made everything complicated.” she sniffed.

  “It’s alright.” Lena replied. “I don’t know what happened. But whatever it is, it’s going to be okay.”

  “No, it’s not. Really, it isn’t. I’ve ruined everything.”

  “Can you tell me what is ruined?” Lena asked, in the least judgmental voice she possibly could. Another several minutes passed. Not quite a half hour, but long enough. It seemed that Vivika was giving herself permission to talk about something she knew she was going to have to talk about—working up the nerves, perhaps. Lena needed to just accept whatever it was that she wanted to say and let that be that. Thankfully, her patience was rewarded. Yet after it was, ‘thankfully’ and ‘rewarded’ were the exact opposite words she would have used to describe the dawning apocalypse of reality.

  “Patrick.” Vivika said plainly.

  “What about him?” Lena said quickly, before thinking better of it. “How does she know…she knew Victor. She had no idea who Patrick was.”

  “Patrick did this.”

  “You don’t…” Lena stuttered, “you mean ‘Victor’?”

  “No.” Vivika said angrily, “Not Victor. I mean Patrick. Fuck him and all his stupid spy shit. I’m sick of all the mind games, a-and…and all the intrigue, and…and all the everything. I’ve known Patrick forever, and it was always bad. Now it’s just worse, and…”

  Oh, this was bad. This was very, very bad. Lena tried to fathom all of the terrible implications. Patrick couldn’t have…but he…he had done…but that wasn’t possible! Lena was the only one who knew
the true identity of…but…and if it was true—which it obviously had to be—what did that mean? Everything had already changed after she had met with Grandfather. Everything had changed infinitely more now that she had arrived home to see Vivika. But now that the new reality of Patrick had dawned, it made it all dangerous, and scary, and sick, and confusing.

  “I’m sick of lying to you, Lena.” Vivika sniffed, “I was sick of it long before we had even met. At first, it was fun. But then it wasn’t…and then we became friends…and now...”

  “What are you talking about?” Lena said, startled. “What are you sick of? I’m confused.”

  “It’s so complicated! Everything is so complicated!”

  “Trust me, Vivika, I know how complicated things can get.”

  “No, you don’t!” Vivika started crying once again. “You have no idea! You have no idea what it’s like having to keep so many secrets from so many people…having to lie to this person, and then lie to that person, only to find out that they already know. To have everyone holding everything over your head, and spying on you…to know that the world is so big, and so scary, and so awful in such horrible ways that no one can ever possibly understand...”

  “Yes, I do,” Lena stated slowly, trying carefully to allude to things without saying them. “Trust me. I know what you are talking about.”

  “How could you?!” Vivika said angrily, as she sat up, throwing the blanket off of herself. “Look at me, Lena! Look at my face! They will kill me if I talk.”

  “They will kill me if I talk too, Vivika!” Lena said just as angrily.

  “Who will kill you?!”

  “I can’t tell you!”

  “Why the hell not?!!”

  “Well, why can’t you tell me?!!” Lena said, incredulously.

  “Because I can’t!”

  For minutes, the two stared at each other. This was absolutely ludicrous. Whatever the other had going on, well…it seemed to be awfully similar in complexity, regardless of whether or not it was similar in essence. Both had worked themselves into a corner, and neither could find the way out. But one thing was very clear: the second someone had done what he had done to Vivika, they had both been absolved of the requirement of silence. Still, they just stared at each other angrily, neither willing to make the first move.

  “Do you remember back in West Berlin?” Lena finally started.

  “What the hell of it?”

  “You told me that when we were finally safe, and when we were able to be honest with each other…we would be.”

  “Yes, of course I remember.”

  “Well, it doesn’t look like that’s ever going to happen, now is it? I could be dead tonight. And from the looks of it, it doesn’t look like you are that much better off. So, we might as well come clean with each other, because we have to figure something out.”

  “I...” Vivika started carefully, “I don’t know if I can trust you. I don’t think I can trust anyone anymore.”

  “I can’t trust you either!” Lena laughed through the tears that were now openly streamed down her cheeks. “I know for a fact that I can’t trust you or anyone else. And I’m just about done giving a shit. If I can’t trust anyone in this world, than I might as well just trust you anyway and let the chips fall where they may. Because life isn’t worth living without trust, and if I have to pick one person to trust, it would be you…because you’re the only one I know who’s worse off than me.”

  “Gee, thanks,” Vivika sniffed sarcastically, but she laughed all the same. “I guess I agree.”

  “Vivika,” Lena started with far less hesitation than she expected, “I work for the HVA and the CIA.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  “You did what?!” Grandfather howled at Patrick.

  “I…I’m...” Patrick stuttered as he dodged a book flying at his head.

  “Don’t dodge, you little ingrate!” he screamed as he picked up another one, “Don’t you ever dodge things I throw at you!”

  The safe house was unnaturally disheveled as Patrick and Dragon Lady stood in front of the angry old man. Patrick’s Grandfather was well-known to be disorganized, preferring to keep any necessary information within stumbling reach. This, however, was just purely messy. He had obviously been up all night ransacking the place. He only did that when things were truly out of sorts—and the fact that he was now throwing things, well, Patrick had only seen this two other times. He knew it was just a foreshadowing of things to come, and it was all her fault—that grinning, psychopathic bitch who, for once, seemed somewhat afraid.

  “Look, it’s...” Patrick attempted to appease the old man, before a travel guide hit him full in the face.

  He dropped to the floor, covering the pain that began to gather right under his left eye. It hurt, but not nearly as bad as it was going to hurt in a few moments, and not nearly as bad as his life was about to hurt. As much as he hated his little HVA squad, he still hated disappointing Grandfather. And this wasn’t just disappointment, this was betrayal. This was a crime of the highest order with the wizened old man, just as it was with his beloved organization. And he didn’t know what the outcome of such a thing would be. He just knew it was going to be bad.

  “You know why I throw things at you, don’t you?” Grandfather asked, desolately.

  “Because I...” Patrick attempted to answer, before another travel guide hit him in the chest.

  “Shut your mouth when I ask you rhetorical questions!”

  “That didn’t sound very rhetorical.” Dragon Lady admitted.

  “That is entirely beside the point, you evil bitch!” Grandfather yelled at her, “Why are you still here?”

  “Because I’m the one who saw him.” she responded proudly, completely ignoring the fact that her case officer didn’t want her there.

  “...and?!” Grandfather asked, annoyed.

  “Well, I figured that you would want me here to confirm or deny anything he said.”

  “Did you tell me everything?” Grandfather asked.

  “Of course, I did.”

  “Then if I already know everything you know, why would I need you here to help me make an assessment?”

  “Well…because...” she said, and for once, Patrick thought he detected uncertainty in her voice.

  “I’m fully capable of coming to my own conclusions.” he said, acidly. “Now you’ve already earned my ire by spying on our own agents. So, consider us even. Now…off with you!”

  “But…I only spied on him because I suspected...”

  “Now!” Grandfather bellowed, “Or I’ll throw a book at you too!”

  Quickly, she launched herself out the front door and disappeared into the morning light. Grandfather had been up all night long talking with Lena. Having procured her a ride home, he was still up. Grandfather was not a man for staying up late and could be notoriously cranky when forced to be. But now, having to deal with even more problems—problems his own agents had caused—cranky didn’t really describe it. He only threw books when he was really mad.

  For several minutes, Patrick sat on the floor clutching his wounded face, watching Grandfather pace about the room. He seemed…unnerved. Patrick had thought up many brilliant things to say to get himself out of this situation, but he thought better of them every time he felt his face begin to ache anew. After a few minutes, however, his Grandfather began speaking in a measured tone.

  “What did you say to him?”

  “I gave him a copy of some out-of-date Stasi manuals.” Patrick answered honestly. “The manuals didn’t contain any classified information of any import, and they were only given to earn his trust.” Now was not the time for lies. It wasn’t the time for full-truths, of course, but that was beside the point. Unfortunately, Grandfather smelled the half-truth easily.

  “That’s not what I asked,” Grandfather said plainly. “De
ceive me again, and I’ll pick a legal book.”

  “I...” Patrick stuttered, and for once, he didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t really planned on having to have this discussion.

  “Look,” Grandfather said as he walked over to a bookshelf and began rifling through a few legal books on a bookshelf. Patrick gulped at this. Those were always the thickest, heaviest books. “You know as well as I do that the Americans don’t take walk-ins. The HVA doesn’t even do that. If Matt York agreed to talk with you, there’s a reason. You had some information that he genuinely wanted. I want to know what that is, and if you don’t tell me, we’ll start with Commonlaw Marriage and work our way up to Military Law.”

  “Grandfather, please!” Patrick wailed, “I’m...”

  The book hit him in the chest so hard, he thought a rib cracked. It amazed him how hard the old man could throw. He couldn’t figure out which hurt worse: the book or his Grandfather’s ire. And he was about to find out for sure if he didn’t think of something quick.

  “Fine, you old bastard! It was Hans!” Patrick held his hands in front of his face, “They wanted to make a deal for him! I was only trying to help you! I figured...”

  “Wait.” Grandfather held up his hand, “Wait just a second…this is about that stupid boy, again?!”

  “Again?!” Patrick responded.

  “My goodness,” he murmured as if to himself, “I am never going to be rid of this stupid boy and the problems he’s causing, will I?!”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “It doesn’t matter if you understand or not, Patrick. I don’t believe you.”

  “You don’t believe what?!”

  “I don’t believe for one single second that you were trying to facilitate anything on my behalf. Because there’s nothing you could possibly facilitate on your own that I would approve of. Especially without my consent. You were talking to that dimwit across the Wall, and you were talking to him because you wanted something. What was it, Patrick? What was it that was so valuable that you would risk your unit and your neck over?”