The Ruling Impulses

by Francesco Portone

  Things changed about twenty minutes later. The suits exited Rauch's office, leaving the door open. William got closer to the doorway to peek a little and his eyes suddenly met Rauch's piercing eyes, which seemed to ask him what the hell he was doing. William almost jumped back in fear.

  «Deveux, we're almost there, follow me.»

  He spoke in two-word sentences, like a man in a real big hurry. William, still embarrassed, remained silent and merely nodded.

  «This morning we meet Mr. Wunderlich, the general manager, who will hopefully give the consent to complete the job.»

  «Good to know.» William sighed and did not add any other word.

  They wandered all around the building, walking corridors, crossing security gates, entering identification codes and doing fingerprint checks. The goal seemed near when they took a long corridor without doors or exits. The strange location and the almost total absence of light gave the whole thing a gloomy look.

  Rauch asked William Deveux to wait a minute outside and then he got into his boss's office. It was a very quiet area of the building, away from the noise of the operational departments. A few minutes later, William was invited to join them. The room was very large, appropriate to a big shot, and Wunderlich's desk was right in front of the entrance, as if to check immediately who dared to access. On the left side there were some shelves on which some technological antiques were displayed: a Faxmatic 4-27 printer, an Oliver ZX2 modem router, as well as several volumes and paper documents, including a nearly hundred years old copy of the Holy Bible. Wunderlich smiled.

  «I am a nostalgic.»

  The lighting level inside the room was even lower than in the corridor. Wunderlich hurried to clarify.

  «A little darkness will not bother you, will it? Bright lights annoy me. Some quack doctor calls it photophobia. People won't stop adopting such derogatory definitions, as if it were a crime to be sensitive to something.»

  It was a rhetorical question disguised as a request of permit. Nothing he had seen and sensed that morning suggested William that a manager like Wunderlich could lower and harm himself to please a stranger. William knew it well, so he replied he was fine but carefully tried not to sound too respectful.

  Wunderlich stretched another smile, then grabbed a cigar out of the wooden box lying on his desk and admired it.

  «Do you want one?»

  William hesitated.

  «I stopped smoking. Unfortunately.»

  The manager laughed out loud.

  «I like it when a man admits his weaknesses.»

  He paused for a long time, then pointed at the armchair to invite William to sit down. Rauch chose to stay in the background. He noticeably was the most nervous of the three of them. He stared at the other two out of the corner of his eye, waiting for the next move. Wunderlich then decided it was time to stop chitchatting and discuss serious matters.

  «So you and your company would like to stick your nose in our secrets», he said harshly. «Our clients' personal data are protected. Even many of our employees can not access them. They pay us well and we guarantee maximum privacy.»

  «We'll only access to them if strictly necessary. Your customers' safety is our concern, too. As for the content of the archives... well, Leigh Madison has always had a neutral policy. We have no interest in what you do. You hire us, we do our job well. Game over.»

  William summarized that issue hastily and abruptly, worn out by days and days of bickering. His aim was to finish his job and leave once and for all, and he did not mean to bow to anyone. Concern and mistrust were acceptable, not the psychoses.

  Wunderlich had had dozens of talks like that and had learned to read between the lies. He took a good look at William, starting from his curly black hair and his three-day beard, then slowly moving down to his dark leatherette jacket. He would not show up to a business meeting dressed like that, but it wasn't a bad thing after all. Better cut to the chase and waste no time. He looked him straight in the eye and chose to trust that young-looking man. He could not let on yet, though. He was the highest authority in that room and could not give up so quickly.

  «Put it like that, it all looks so easy. But how do we know you're not going to cheat us? Could you vouch for your company?»

  If Wunderlich could have read William's mind, he would have heard Leigh Madison Enterprise's employee calling him “moron”. William could not to figure out how he could possibly guarantee anything to anyone, as he was just a system administrator and a programmer, not a manager.

  «If I'm not mistaken, espionage is still considered a crime. That», William pointed out, «should give you sufficient guarantees.»

  «Of course. But you have to consider - and, certainly, mine is just speculation - that you would surely have skills and chance to access that information without Caribbean being able to notice in time.»

  «This is pretty obvious. And we're doing it already.»

  William thought it was a good idea to use sarcasm. Rauch started to cough as if there was something stuck in his trachea; his boss, on the other hand, didn't even blink an eye. Wunderlich stood there motionless for a few seconds, then settled back in his chair with his arms folded.

  «It's funny, isn't it? Do you really think we like to waste time and millions of credits?»

  He paused briefly, then continued.

  «You look honest, but if you think we're going to hand you the keys to Caribbean's hidden treasures, you're wrong. Our top customers include politicians, renowned businessmen, Scarlet Militia's members. You can just imagine the consequences of a classified data leak.»

  «Just to clarify», William stated, «it's you who hired us. We have been working for a couple of weeks and we're at the final stage. For your safety, the system leaves a trace of all our activities and you can rest assured that someone will remotely watch over you all the time. If you ever find any anomalies or errors caused by us, you can always sue us. And now, if you'll excuse me, I've got better things to do. Nice meeting you, gentlemen.»

  William put his hands on the armrests of the chair and leaned forward, showing he was going to leave shortly. The conversation was over, the legal departments of the respective companies would handle the rest.

  Keith Wunderlich gently tried to stop him.

  «Deveux, stay. Please.»

  William hesitated, while remaining in the same position, ready to get up.

  «Will you personally take care of our systems?», the general manager inquired, with a much softer tone.

  «I have not been informed about it yet. I'm not sure.»

  «No, what I wanted to say is that I'd like you to take care of it. You give me good vibes and, by the way, you did nothing to try to please me.»

  He turned a mischievous glance at his colleague who, meanwhile, had backed away from the dispute. Maximilian Rauch's face turned purple.

  William stayed silent, choosing not to add fuel to the fire. Wunderlich took his silence as an approval and begged him to wait a couple of minutes outside because he had to consult with his subordinate. There was a heavy feeling in that room, so William willingly got out. He leaned back against the corridor and closed his eyes for a moment. He dozed off - one of the side effects of Sefinol – but just for a few seconds, then did his best to stay awake and ready. He checked the time for the sixth or seventh time and snorted again.

  As promised, the wait was not long and the two Caribbean managers finally gave him the prognosis. William would complete his work under Rauch's close supervision, but Wunderlich demanded detailed and daily reports. William thought he wasn't paid enough for such boring protocols. Companies and contracts could change, but whining stayed the same: everyone had an irrepressible desire to hide his secrets.

  Maximilian Rauch, eager to show off, had the brilliant idea of proposing to get to work immediately and draw up a first report by the end of the day. He asked William, with a little sadism, if it was okay for him or he had some other work to do. William could not shirk, so he showed will
ingness to grant them two or three hours, but then he would have to leave because of another commitment planned for that afternoon. It was a lie, he had nothing urgent to do but he couldn't stand to be in their company all day long.

  At 16.00 William began to fear he would be late for that longed-for date. He absolutely had to disengage and go home to freshen up and change his clothes. He felt some kind of adolescent anxiety at the thought of seeing her again: he had to drive it away quickly and get sober and and serious again.

  Rauch, meanwhile, was breathing down his neck and he was asking William for any kind of explanation, even about matters he clearly did not understand, yet simulating careful listening and interaction. The Caribbean's manager requested so much information that he was able to keep William stuck almost until dinner time. When William was free from the chains it was already dark and there was no time to go home to change his clothes. The lie about the other scheduled appointment did not prove to be an effective deterrent to contain the enthusiasm of Maximilian Rauch.

  Thorwald Pub had always been their favorite hangout. They found the venue both funny and romantic, perfect for spending some pleasant moments. The owner, Bjorn Johansson, was proud of his Scandinavian origins. He claimed to descend from an ancient and glorious Viking tribe, and he chose the name Thorwald because it referred to one of his valiant ancestors. Inside the pub it was all lined with medieval artifacts, passed off as authentic by the bearded Bjorn. William had never believed those tales, he was also convinced that the bold Viking's platinum blonde hair was lightened and, at best, he had seen Scandinavia in some travel agency's advertising. However, it was no big deal, as William and Lucinda were really amused by his anecdotes perfumed with antiquity, even better if accompanied by the tasting of a good viking öl, generously offered by the brave warrior.

  William felt a little uncomfortable because he could not get cleaned up before going to the pub and hoped, above all, not to smell badly. Although he no longer placed much faith in the future prospects of their relationship, he did not want to look unkempt.

  He took a seat at a different table, since his favorite had already been taken. He briefly greeted Bjorn, then sat and waited patiently. Lucinda was ten minutes late as usual. She had not changed, William thought. She wore a white dress with a floral design, maybe a little too tight. Overall, the look was refined and the posture was as elegant as ever. She wore her red hair back, with a cowlick she wasn't able to tame. She definitely looked oriental.

  William stood up and welcomed her with chivalry. They looked into each other's eyes, but none of them spoke a word. After a few seconds, it was the male to break the silence.

  «Hi Cy.»

  «Cy? What's that, the nickname's short version?»

  William had a wide yet fleeting smile.

  «You didn't reply my message.»

  «But it was late at night, what did you expect?»

  Excellent yet foregone observation, William had nothing to add. Lucinda tried to clarify. Her furrowed brow expressed resentment.

  «I... I was sleepy and... no, the truth is that I did not want to.»

  «Why not? It was just a warm greeting, or at least, it was meant to be. Not a marriage proposal.»

  Silence and more silence. The word “marriage” stunned Lucinda and she remained speechless for a long time. Before the situation got grotesque, William made the first move.

  «Listen, Lucinda, it's all too clear between us. We both know that feelings are just one part of the story and you do know that if I could get my problems under control, I would do it willingly. Things are not changed much since the last time we met, so I would like to ask you what made you wish to see me again.»

  William took a deep breath and let Lucinda think about it. Meanwhile, Bjorn Johansson got closer to see if they wanted anything, but stopped at safe distance as he sensed it was a serious conversation. William noticed him and beckoned him to bring two coffees.

  «It's that I missed you.»

  «That's all?»

  «What do you mean ' that's all', isn't it a good reason to see each other again?», she said, a little upset.

  «Cynda, I do not think I have either strength or desire to beg you anymore, if that's what you expected from me.»

  Silence, again. The verb “to beg” produced the same effect as the word “marriage”, so Lucinda retreated in her inner world once again. It still was up to William to fill that void.

  «When we started dating, I set the record straight. You told me that we would live day by day, without making plans. Then you backed out. I'm not blaming you for that, but you did it.»

  William clenched his fists under the table.

  «I try to control myself. I do what I can, but when anger rises I feel my head explode. I think I've apologized a thousand times for this.»

  Another break.

  «I don't want to lose you.»

  Lucinda looked towards the street outside not to meet his eyes, and she pretended to check her hair to push back the tears. She was aware of being at a crossroads: to accept William the way he was or turn the page. She would risk suffering either way.

  «I can't make it, Bill. I don't want to stay away from you, but I can not live in a house of cards bound to collapse at any moment. I don't know what to do.»

  William reached out and tried to touch her ear. Lucinda bent her head a little backwards to avoid his caress.

  «You see it? One moment it's all fine, the next moment it's like going back to hell.»

  Lucinda let the tears flow, and William settled back in his chair. His eyes got wet too, and he didn't know what else to say, but struggled to add something.

  «Sometimes I wish I couldn't feel anything, rather than dealing with so many feelings and not being able to hold them off. But I don't want to hurt you. You deserve to be happy, with or without me.

  «You know, I was getting used to the thought of losing you, of not having you by my side anymore. I felt dejected, drained. But it's okay if I know that you're in peace.»

  William hoped that Cynda would be willing to give it another try. One last try. He hoped she would tell him, in spite of everything, I will not give up, we will fight together. But Lucinda was staying silent. Her thoughts were too conflicting to make any decision and certainly not so rapidly as William wished.

  They had their coffees and they drank them in a complete silence. The place was not much crowded and there was almost no sound, except for a classical music background, a pompous and up-tempo aria. Lucinda tore that quiet moment, choking on coffee. William got closer to make sure it was nothing serious and she sent him back again with a wave of her hand.

  «I thought dating you again was a good idea, but I'm not so sure anymore. Maybe I'm not ready.» Then she added, in a lower tone, almost voiceless: «And I don't know if I'll ever be.»

  William nodded and ventured that maybe they could meet once in a while, no strings attached. Remaining at a safe distance, they would probably understand if it could still work for them. Lucinda replied with a half smile that showed all her stress.

  «We need more time, Bill», she stated, toning down his enthusiasm.

  «You need more time, maybe? I can only play along.»

  «Just one minute ago it seemed you cared for my own sake. Or was it just your good twin, maybe?»

  William didn't answer. His instincts sometimes took control over him. Their relationship had certainly been full of ups and downs since the very beginning, but lately Lucinda had shown a lot more impatience. She was often embittered by his mood swings, which she could not take anymore. Once she had enough, she broke up with William, without giving explanations. Not really needed, indeed, William was well aware of the situation. He reacted well to their separation, in the first place, as he was used to swallow bitter pills. Then, as the weeks passed, he began to miss so many small things about her, the way she checked her hair, her laughters, the way she stared at him so intently after lighting a cigarette, even when they bickered about everyt
hing. He could no longer do without her.

  «What do you want us to do?», William asked, exhausted. The pragmatism he had been keeping for many minutes on a leash eventually freed itself and joined the conversation. Lucinda took some time to reply. Meanwhile, the pub had gone filling up and the noise got more than annoying. Bjorn brought them some appetizers on his own, but they did not quite bother and kept staring at their cups of coffee.

  «Let's take more time. Yes, let's take more time», she proposed, almost reciting a mantra, like she was deep in thought.

  William surrendered, as he was offered no other solution. He looked at the diverse audience for a while as if to seek inspiration. Bjorn was happily bouncing from table to table, granting smiles and pats on the back and making sure everyone had a mug of his precious drink.

  «Can I at least call you sometimes?», he suggested, after discarding all other options. Those words sounded like a release for Lucinda. A way out of the stalemate in which they were bogged down. They would catch up via communicator, without taking precise commitments. A solution that would allow her to avoid what she hated the most at that moment: taking a final decision.

  «Yes, but once in a while», she pointed out, with a slightly forced giggle and fiery red cheeks. «So we'll tell stories about our jobs.»

  «Troubles?», William asked as a mere formality.

  «Well, you know, sometimes it's a risky job. Girls always try to be careful, but the unexpected is around every corner.»

  «When are you going to do a quieter job? An office worker, maybe?»