The Ruling Impulses

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The Ruling Impulses Page 10

by Francesco Portone


  «What's wrong with you?», she often asked her computer when it threw tantrums; and that time the issue was even more serious. More than half an hour had passed and there was no way to forward that message. And yet it was a standard procedure, just routine, but no matter how much she cursed, the electronic equipment was not gallant at all.

  «Tom!», she called to the intercom. «I need help, this damned doesn't want to obey.»

  «Same old stuff», said Tom Bertold annoyed. «They should pay me by the piece, I'd be rich. If it wasn't for me this company would collapse», he ironically emphasized.

  «Stop this nonsense, Tommy, and get me a repair technician.»

  «Repair technician... don't be silly, it'll surely be a small thing, let me have a look», he said, frantically pressing the keys. «I need your clearance, Madame. Hide your browser so I won't catch you worshiping the bodies of muscle men.»

  Kate grumbled, but let herself be teased. She gave access to her colleague - who began to work in the background so as not to disturb her - and in the meantime decided to double-check the mail for any new documents to be sorted. There was a lot of correspondence between Minneman Company and Leigh Madison Enterprise, classified as confidential. Not even with her clearance level she could access it. So much the better, she thought, they have already busted our chops, I prefer not to know. What more did they want? Kate asked herself. The whole company had been in turmoil, they had been accused of stealing information and Minneman had also made a serious claim for damages. If they were really working on such important research, they had better protect themselves by taking out some high-profile insurance cover. In short, the Minneman case was a thorny issue for everyone in the company.

  Kate noticed that there were also many unanswered messages between Leigh Madison and Evendorf, a company active in the metalworking sector. Those messages were encrypted, too. What are they doing upstairs? She reflected, scrolling through the list of messages in search of some other potential anomaly, some unusual data she had overlooked at first. She verified that on the same day that Minneman interacted with Leigh Madison, the latter in turn contacted Evendorf and the circle ended up with Evendorf replying to Leigh Madison and, at the same time, to a man named Clive Hebert; a name that meant nothing to Kate. That plot repeated itself five more times over a dozen days, in the same order.

  «Try now, Kate», Tom Bertold interrupted her. It took her a few seconds to come back to herself; she was completely absorbed in the analysis of the mail, so much so as to forget the initial request made to Tom.

  «Yes, Tom, it seems to be working now, thanks. Oh, Tom, one more thing. I haven't seen James Dufour in the last few days, do you know anything about this?»

  The intercom didn't have a screen, so Kate couldn't watch Tom Bertold shrug.

  «Hmm... and that new guy...», Kate added. «Cedric something... I haven't seen him either.»

  «Malik», Tom corrected. «Malik Renard. I wouldn't call him new, anyway.»

  Tom paused to take a sip of coffee or, better, black broth, as he often called it; yet he couldn't help it, he was totally addicted to caffeine.

  «In any case, no, I haven't seen either of them. And actually it's a while since I heard from William.»

  «Deveux!», Kate shouted. «That damn guy hasn't sent me his report yet. And from what I see, he hasn't been online in the last two days. What's happening to everyone? An alien invasion has begun and no one thought to warn me?»

  «It's just a conspiracy against you, they aim to make you late in reporting», Tom teased her.

  «Hmm. Okay Tommy, no more talk, over and out» and nervously interrupted the phone call.

  As in the grip of a sixth sense, Kate got up and felt the urge to have to search the building. Along the way, she would make one or two excuses to justify her presence in places very different from the usual ones. Perhaps there was nothing strange, yet she had a little voice in her head that suggested she would do better to check. It seemed that everything was in the ordinary, at first glance. A quiet and energetic grazing, everyone busy with their own main activity or interested in deepening interpersonal relationships. Nothing unusual or that caught the eye.

  First step, Human Resources office. In the event of changes of any kind, human resources were always among the best informed, even though, honestly, Kate had no idea what to search or what the oddity might be. Patricia Giannetti, as usual, was sitting at her workstation, with her eyes fixed on the monitor, gnawing at her nails until her fingers almost bled. Kyle Dupont was talking to her - from her location, Kate was unable to extrapolate the content of the conversation - but she did not seem to contract any muscle at Kyle's words, as if they were passing through her without a trace. It was more a soliloquy than a conversation. In any case, nothing new under the sun, according to Kate.

  She stopped by the accounting and found herself in the middle of a serious quarrel. There was an imbalance of about ten thousand credits and Michelle Montgomery was facing her subordinate, Julia Malafeeva, guilty of having made a mess in her absence. There was no way to trace that sum back and relate it to any expense item. Michelle was accusing Julia of being shallow, of lacking dedication. She was keen to make it clear that she did not want to babysitting her, that she did not want to feel responsible for her even when she was absent. Julia, for her part, tried to exonerate herself, specifying that she had always acted correctly and suggested Michelle not to take too much time off work. Kate - who was very careful not to approach - began to consider that if she made reconnaissance in the depths of the Leigh Madison headquarters more often, she would probably discover a whole new world she never thought might exist.

  During her grotesque wanderings, Kate Ramos made a stop near the technical department, on the seventh floor, and there she met an amazed Carlos De La Hoya, surprised to see her out of her usual cave. Carlos proved to be as friendly as ever. He spoke to her, without being asked, about his two sons, Monica and Julio, and his wife Raquel waiting for the third. Julio was seven and wanted to be an airplane pilot, while little Monica, two years old, often cried from a stomach ache. The conversation quickly turned to the usual topics two friends, or two work colleagues, talk about when they haven't seen each other for a while: politics, money, health, weather conditions. Kate nodded with her usual grace, waiting for the right time to introduce useful elements to what, within a few minutes, had become her investigation.

  The Technical Department office was really wide, with a very elegant shiny blue floor, glazed walnut work tables, chandeliers with soft lights, very warm and welcoming, with shapes that recalled the waves of the sea. Some lithographs on the walls showed scenes from the glorious past of The Grace and The Justice, a boastful expression with which Scarlet Militia used to call itself. It's much better than my office, Kate regretted, turning her eyes frequently towards the room and leaving Carlos to gratify himself with his family tales. While examining the office perimeter, Kate noticed a lot of vacant workstations and took the opportunity to interrupt Carlos and ask for clarifications on the matter, with the undercover agent's nonchalance.

  «I don't know, late summer vacation?», Carlos speculated, not appearing to be much interested in the subject.

  Kate then asked him about James Dufour, trying to appear very detached in her turn. Carlos spread his arms slightly. «I know little about him», he admitted. Kate, therefore, determined that it was useless to push it, providing him, for example, the list of possible abducted. She watched the clock to get an excuse to break away from the conversation, but Carlos caught her off guard.

  «Speaking of teammates, do you want to know who I haven't seen for a long time? Brandon McIntire!»

  «You don't say!», Kate replied, trying to hide her almost total lack of interest.

  «I tell you! The last time we met he complained about some aches. He said he often got out of bed in pain and couldn't explain why, since he had no problems the night before. Wild sex? What do you think?», Carlos insinuated, laughing out loud.
>
  Kate just smiled and started waving her hands at other colleagues who, in the meantime, had noticed her.

  «Carlos, nice talking to you», she cut short, perhaps a little too abruptly, to break away from her chatty teammate and continue her tour.

  It was 11:27. She had been absent from her office for almost fifty minutes and it was better to hurry to avoid having to list herself as missing. Before that, however, she absolutely had to drop by the general management to see which way the wind was blowing.

  Given that the itinerary was short, all in all, Kate decided to go ahead by taking the stairs, thus avoiding meeting any managers. She picked up a tonic water from the vending machine – and got annoyed with the new price increase - then, between the two, took the corridor on her right, located at a fork next the flight of stairs.

  The design of the tenth floor differed significantly from that of the rest of the building. In addition to the flora, which was present at all management floors, the managers benefited from a fully equipped gym, where they could keep fit and release tension, a hydrotherapy pool, a recreational corner with all sorts of entertainment, champagne of the best brands and, upon request, masseur and master of oriental disciplines. One wondered where they found the time to work.

  Kate moved with soft steps, trying not to draw attention. If she ran into someone, she would stand back, pretending to read messages on her communicator.

  Suddenly Malcolm Dietrich popped out of the elevator and he didn't seem to be in a good mood at all. Kate turned pale and, panicked, ran towards the stairs, even getting a probable sprained ankle. The fifty-credit shoes she wore implied a moderate lifestyle, after all; they were ill-suited to the demands imposed by espionage. If Dietrich intercepted her, he would subject her to an interrogation that would have made those of Scarlet Militia seem like child's play. In sequence, he would extort her: the reason for her presence on that floor; the reason for her presence there at that time; and above all, why the hell his report wasn't ready yet. He would bury her with grievances and lots of 'you shouldn't have' and 'you'd have done better'. In a nutshell, he would make her yawn to death. Fortunately, the silent alarm in Kate's head turned off quickly. Malcolm Dietrich locked himself in his office, leaving the hunting camp clear. Kate took the chance to patrol the corridors, keeping close to the walls to even pick up the smallest signal.

  The total tranquility of the place was disturbed only by distant voices, apparently coming from Margot Davis' room, the senior level coordinator of the work groups. The curious thing was that the more Kate approached to better understand the content of the discussion, the less clear it became, as if, absurdly, they had felt her presence and lowered their tone of voice. Pure speculation, Kate thought, since the offices were not equipped with closed-circuit monitors - at least as far as she knew. The strangeness induced her to investigate the matter further. She looked around to make sure she was alone, then put her ear on the wall to the left of the door. For a few moments she seemed to have become that Big Brother she had read so many years before in some history book.

  One of the voices in the room was certainly Davis', but there were other people. At least two others, a man and a woman. As hard as it was to decode the sounds accurately, they did not seem familiar voices. The impression was that they were thinking about something, making arrangements. After a couple of minutes she thought she heard the word “Deveux” and that made her ears perk up. That word was repeated during the conversation, but the more she listened to it, the more it sounded like “Montreux” instead. Kate, you moron, what secrets did you think you were discovering? She whispered to herself; in any case, after spending half a morning hunting for ghosts, she realized it was too late to back out. She might as well make sure she just wasted time and added a little spice to a ordinary, dull workday.

  She could only identify single words, no complete sentences, yet she was growing suspicious that it was a sort of list. As if they were reviewing something or someone. If only she could listen to an entire passage, she might grasp the meaning of the discussion, but, though she did her best to perform in Kamasutra-like poses, there was no way to improve reception.

  Suddenly Kate gave a start: the name of a colleague from the Logistics Office, Louis Kruger, was distinctly spelled out. That time she could not be wrong. Nevertheless, she struggled to assemble the puzzle: what could they want from him in a management office, apart from gossiping? And who were the other people in the room?

  She saw two bellboys coming towards her, so she rapidly composed herself, smoothly unsheathed her communicator and performed an imaginary conversation with humorous tones. She would attract less attention by doing so, she concluded. She was right. The two employees of Furlong Quick Deliveries didn't even look at her.

  Once overcome that obstacle too, she got back to position, closer to the door, using her right ear like an antenna. She feared she had missed an important piece of the conversation and her aim was to get as complete a picture as possible before returning to her daily activities. The voices of those present remained constant on a medium level. There were no peaks, laughter or different modulation that suggested something more about the tenor of the discussion.

  Other names flowed on the virtual ticker in Kate's mind, but nothing useful. She did not know the other names they were mentioning and she certainly did not have time to try to remember who or what. Among other things, a “John” could become “Don”, “Maggie” could turn into “Peggie”, in short it was not easy to associate the names to her memory database, without even knowing the subject of the discussion.

  After almost one minute of silence, Margot Davis listed other subjects and among them was James Dufour. Even in that case Kate was certain of it as the name was repeated several times. She also seemed to hear something about medical examinations and health conditions. Those words left her baffled and even more curious. Was James unwell? And if so, why were they talking about it as if it was something to keep hidden? Was the name she had heard in the beginning really that of William Deveux? She continued to rack her brain, while the three of them - by then she was sure they were really three in that office – took turns in the account of the facts.

  Unfortunately the investigation had to be interrupted when her communicator started to vibrate. William Blunt notified her she had to report to Malcolm Dietrich with the utmost urgency and that, in case of further delay, corporal punishment would be inflicted on her. Dietrich did not know that his darling was just a few steps away from him. Kate grimaced. It was a pity to abandon the investigation phase at that very moment, now that it was starting to get interesting. She thought of buying some time, but her growing guilt led her to decide to go back to her office and finalize that damn document. That time she preferred to use the elevator, she had nothing to hide anymore. She went down taking with her an irrepressible expression of disappointment, like that of a child whose favorite toy had been snatched.

  Chapter VII

  Although the weather was not so hot anymore, the Kastar river did not cease to be a meeting place and entertainment for families and beyond, also thanks to the affordable prices of the chalets and residences therein. Boat trips were frequent and led citizens and tourists to visit the main sights along the stretch that ran from the Keenan bridge to the quay near the building that housed Guild of Social Reform. Quite a few miles enlivened by the story of the main exploits of Scarlet Militia and College of Guilds and how the re-foundation of many areas of the city had given new impetus and social and economic vigor and helped improve the opinion of other countries towards the city-state of East Eden. That according to government statistics, about which there was always a lot of skepticism.

  Most people preferred, in any case, to camp near the banks, arrange picnics, gulp down drinks at the several kiosks and capture the last feeble sunrays before the fall took over. According to many, it was an oasis where it was possible to stretch out and escape even for a while from the stress of city life. People used to go there regularly
, taking advantage of a break from work. But not just employees, the riverfront had become over time a cosmopolitan blend, where citizens of all kinds - the elderly, mothers with children, students - used to relax from daily routine, also because, luckily for them, it was an area left unattended by Militia, so the sense of being perpetually in a state of war was a little attenuated.

  Lucinda was a creature of habit. The appointment with the Kastar river and with Chalet Antoine had become over time a fixture, a Sunday habit. She loved going there early and sipping her usual drink of white wine, apple juice and a splash of pink pepper. She found it extremely comforting to gaze at the flow of water, the succession of the waves, while the breeze blew through her hair. On fine days they gave her a summer feeling, also because of the pleasant chirping of children who played tag, but even when the weather turned for the worse, and the gusts were strong and persistent, she allowed herself to be pleasantly wrapped by the wild and uncontrollable awakening of nature.

  She usually wore very informal clothing, sports shoes, strap closure tracksuit, sunglasses. It gave her a sense of freedom. She loved to sit and stir her drink over and over, munching peanuts and watching the stroll of others from time to time. She often turned attention to mothers with young children. Her heart melted when she watched them clean their dirty nose, to scold them when they were naughty, to rock the babies. That thing reminded her that in her life there was still a blank spot. Motherhood was a natural need for her, but it was hindered by many complications, by her unusual job, by the troubled emotional relationships. The question did not concern the “if” but rather the “how”, the “when” and above all the “who”. Sometimes she had also reflected on a possible future with William, but their present was already so inscrutable that it would be impossible to think of such matters at that moment. So, inadvertently following William's own example, she continued on her life path, floating, waiting for the big break. And in the meantime, whenever possible, she tried having a good time, even doing small things like her Sunday habit. That day, however, there was something different: it was a Saturday. The day she had arranged to meet William in Garmstein Park. She decided to anticipate the date and go to the Kastar river in order to get a dose of relaxation before the meeting. She was aware that the risk of quarreling with William was always around the corner and, therefore, she preferred to prepare herself in the best way. No hurry. She'd make him wait a little. Deep down, she would like William to kowtow to her at least once, but not with the aim of humiliating him: she wanted him to confess that he needed her, in an absolute and ineluctable way, and that there was not a single day when he was not embittered for having hurt her. Such a thing could help her decide what to do with her life, to abandon that state of suspended animation. However, she had no great expectations. William was a stubborn and proud type of man, beyond his health problems.

 

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