Brenner: The Gospel of Madness (Book 5 of 6)

by Georg Bruckmann

  FOREWORLD

  Toni felt like he was floating. Floating through white clouds, light and without body. Light and without body and free of everything that had driven him so far. No goal, no will. He drifted there, neither up nor down, neither forwards nor backwards. A state of non-presence. Nirvana. No wind played around his core, and no gravity dragged him down. Not even his own thoughts disturbed this state, his will rested, seemed to deeply sleep, and if Toni Da Silva’s soul had ever known a state of peace, it was in these weeks in the Sana Mundi Intensive Care Unit. He floated on a cloud of opiates and other painkillers, and at best he perceived his few visitors as a surprising, yet barely perceptible draughts. He did not notice that Antoine sat next to his bed for several hours almost every day. He did not notice the visits of his superiors and of various representatives of state bodies. He didn’t notice that Antoine had smashed the skull of a reporter who wanted to sneak into Tony’s room by a hair´s breadth with the guys own camera. He didn’t feel the tubes and infusions stuck in his body. He did not notice how in daily routine necrotic meat was cut from him. He didn’t feel the incredible pain, and if the dosage of the carefully balanced opiates was a little too low, then it was only the faint suspicion of a slight discomfort from very, very far away that tried to penetrate his nirvana. He didn’t feel the itching that came with the emergence of new cells. None of this touched him. No concept of time. No concept of physicality. The first thing that came back to him was not the memories. The first thing to return to him was not his ambition. It was the knowledge of his own existence. The knowledge of his very own identity. Not the letters you used to spell your name. His core. Toni was amazed at being able to see himself so unadulterated, almost as if it were the gaze of an outsider scanning and feeling him. What he saw, he couldn’t possibly judge. He could neither categorize it nor stir even the slightest emotion at the sight of himself. A blazing star shining in all colors, cold and hot at the same time, light and dark, black and white at the same time, blurred and sharp. Toni had no idea why he was so sure that this star should be him. It was just like that. Then something crept into the vision, hardly noticeably first, then more and more clearly. It got darker. The white clouds and wafts of mist that had surrounded him until then initially became colder, only to soon be blown away by a gentle but relentless breeze. Now his star blazed lonely in the darkness. In infinite blackness, without above or below, without far and near. Then, after an infinite number of seconds, minutes, hours, and finally years, Toni discovered a point in the distance that stood out from the darkness. The longer he looked at it, the closer it seemed to come, the bigger it seemed to become. It brought the light back into the darkness and Toni’s spirit trembled with impatience. He wanted to get back into the light. He tried to give his mind the order to move towards that point by its own power - but unsuccessfully. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t speed up the approach of the glow. The seconds became tantalizing centuries, and the unfulfilled longing touched a memory deep in Toni. The memories of the infinite pain his body had endured. Then the light was there and wrapped Toni up. It took him somewhere else. To a place more anchored in the real world. A landscape was created before Toni’s eyes. Trees, meadows and shrubs in lush green. A stream in gentle swing. Mild sunlight. The buzzing of insects. Then movement. People. Men, women and children. All naked, and all did not pay the slightest attention to this fact. They picked fruit and ate it while sitting together. They sat close together and gave themselves the security of the group. Some laughed with others, some even loved each other without shyness and without shame, and without paying attention to things like age, family affiliation or appearance. Others paid no attention to the hustle and bustle, talked to each other, while others watched the couples and groups and sometimes masturbated, which did not cause the slightest offense, but at best had a stimulating effect on some of those present. Toni, too, could not escape the attraction of what he saw. The desire to get closer manifested itself. But even now he could not move, seemed frozen on the spot and beaten in shackles that he could not throw off. He tortured himself again for an infinite number of infinitely large time units. Or were they ages? He threw all his will against the shackles, but in vain. He simply didn’t want to succeed in exerting influence, and then, when he had almost given up, something changed in the picture. At first Toni could not grasp the changes, felt them rather than he saw them, but then he realized that something had changed in the behavior of the people he observed in all their enviable innocence. One was lying there. No, not one. A she. A woman. Her hair was already white. The others came and ate her. Then it became winter. The lush plants atrophied and lost their color and leaves. Nor did they bear fruit anymore. The people did not seem to freeze, but they became thinner, and then together they killed the biggest and strongest of them and ate him too. Toni was not in the least shocked by these incidents, no, they seemed quite normal to him, almost logical. What drove him into deep confusion and dismay was something quite different. The quiet happiness and tranquility that this group of human beings had radiated throughout had not suffered in the least from the bloody, cruel and brutal incidents. None of those who now - thanks to their murder - still had food to eat and seemed to get through the winter well, showed even the slightest bad conscience, and neither blamed the other. They lived on in their very own way, as if nothing had ever happened. When it was time, they ate the next one. And so it went on and on, until the bellies of the women arched and finally, after spring had returned, they gave birth. A fever seized Toni’s core spirit. He had to go there, he had to see them. There was room for him with them, perhaps he would feel welcome there, perhaps he could even find something like a home. Again he used all his willpower to be able to move and again. He did not succeed. On the contrary. The more he tried, the paler, and finally the more transparent the images became in front of his inner eye, which drove him to even greater effort. The resulting feedback made it inevitable that Toni would soon be alone again in the darkness and an all-encompassing, leaden despair seized him. Then a pull from somewhere deep, a pull that became stronger and stronger and gave Toni an inkling of speed, although none of his senses allowed such feeling. His eyes didn’t have a fixed point. His skin felt no wind. His ears didn’t hear a hint of the noise of air passing by. And then a new light, towards which he moved. That was moving towards him. It came closer and closer, and the closer it came, the more the pain returned to his body. He didn’t want to go there. At no cost did he want to go back there. Too horrible. Too paralyzing and too all-encompassing was the pain he actually suffered outside sleep, opioids and dreams and visions. He started screaming, then more screaming when he finally understood that all resistance was pointless and that the sounds of fear and horror echoed only in him, that no one would hear them. He screamed because he was robbed of his will. He screamed because he wanted to go back to the innocent, naked and unscrupulous people who seemed so happy. But they withdrew from him, were withdrawn from him, and longing and despair began to tear his core slowly but relentlessly. *** It was cruel for Antoine to sit at his lover’s bedside. To see his face so pale and stiff like dead, so lifeless and cold, and without this fire of intellect and spirit that had shone out of his eyes before that unfortunate day. My devil is tamed, I fear, thought Antoine and gave him a sad kiss on his lips. He got up and started washing Tony’s body. What was left of it. The burns were extensive and deep. The wounds stank miserably, but that didn’t bother him. It was a miracle that Toni Da Silva was still alive. And Antoine knew that his lover owed it only to him ... If he will then be grateful to have to live on in this meat ruin. Antoine hoped so. For him, there had never been an alternative. Nothing on Toni’s defaced body repelled him. He wasn’t like that. But he cared about Toni. The Africans had devastated his flesh, crippled him and tortured and deformed him. But that was just the body. Only what you could see. What had they done to his soul? That’s what Antoine cared about the most. He didn’t give a thought to the fact that he might never wa
ke up again. That couldn’t and wouldn’t happen. He would return to the world, Antoine was safe there. He didn’t know how many times he’d been reminded to be patient. He came here as often as his shifts in the Swiss Guard allowed. Antoine didn’t know exactly how much longer he could pay for the private room at Sana Mundi Hospital and the four professional bodyguards who guarded the door in two shifts and kept the reporters away. In suits and Kevlar vests underneath. Gun left, Taser right, each of them. Professionals he paid under a false name. So Antoine could be himself here in the room. If he was visiting, no one would just snow in. That is why he did not suppress his tears when a wound crust on Toni’s thigh began to loosen during washing and the skin underneath bled again. Carefully Antoine licked up the red drops until they did not come again. He then worked his way up, gently moistening Toni’s devastated body with lukewarm soapy water and then drying it square centimeter by square centimeter. Every time he arrived at Toni’s pace, his old bite scars began to tingle. Even now, when they have defaced you so much, Antoine thought and couldn’t help but put Toni in his mouth. He had already done this several times, although he was aware that he was only torturing himself with it, because there was always no reaction. But just as you should read to coma patients, you can also give them this kind of care. Even if the lack of reaction hurts the soul. At least that was Antoine’s opinion, and on that day his self-sacrifice was to be rewarded. With his tongue and lips, he played around the crippled shaft, tasted Toni’s mild soap and pus-scented skin, drove his tongue along the ugly scarred bulges and absorbed the slightly sickly taste of urine. He himself felt no real excitement, only a reflection of it. It was a pure favor, a service of love, and with a touch of bad conscience Antoine realized that he would have loved to stop doing it again. But he didn’t. He continued for two minutes, looking at the thick, drawn curtains in front of the windows. For several weeks he had been going in and out of Toni’s hospital room, and it had not taken long for a particularly attentive press vulture to notice him. Antoine had nothing but contempt for the lubes, but at the same time he knew that if Toni woke up again, he might have a purpose for them. So, apart from this one episode, he suppressed the impulse to beat up particularly annoying specimen. Instead, he entered the hospital on detours, mostly through the underground car park and with changing clothing styles. The guards had already got used to this fad, and if they had a problem with his visits here, they wouldn’t show. However, they could not be questioned either. Just as Antoine was thinking about how he would meet his commitment to Toni’s sickbed the next day, something changed in Toni’s breathing. The barely noticeable lifting and lowering of his chest seemed to become more intense. Finally, Antoine thought, released Toni’s crippled cock from his mouth and staked his gaze first on Toni’s wounded hand, and then on Toni’s face. The eyelids fluttered and Antoine held her breath. Something twitched in Toni Da Silva’s face. Slime began to rattle in the bronchi, and the heart monitor became more vivid. Joy, pure joy spread in Antoine. He knew he should call for the nurse, or better yet, the chief resident. He knew he had to sound the alarm and spread the good news. But he didn’t. He wanted to experience the rebirth of his beloved all by himself. And he did. The one who had become the most important in Antoine’s life since he broke with his parents - he finally returned to him. Toni Da Silva opened his eyes. Antoine carefully and cautiously took his hand and watched every tiny movement in Toni’s face. The tiny muscles around his eyes twitched, Toni made a swallowing movement, his larynx was moving. Then he opened his mouth. A yellow tongue came out, too dry to really wet the cracked lips, but the movement was the same. Then sounds came from Tony’s mouth. Three words only, and Antoine had trouble understanding them at first, especially when his feelings overwhelmed him as he noticed that Toni smiled at him. “I’ve seen paradise.” It took until the following hustle and bustle was really over and doctors, nurses and caretakers had left the room again. Five minutes after Toni had awakened, he had begun to perceive his body and to scream in horror like an animal. They had not only had to give him a sedative, but also to Antoine, even though Toni had probably received the much higher dose. Now Toni’s gaze rested on Antoine, and he wondered whether this moment would really be the right time for his report. But Toni looked awake and under the veil of painkillers he seemed strangely clear. Antoine knew that his lover didn’t think much of declarations of fidelity and the rustling of love. Still surprised that Toni hadn’t fallen asleep again immediately after waking up, Antoine began to talk. About how a sidekick of the Darkwater mercenaries had contacted him. Told him Toni was missing. That he had found out himself, after having mastered his worries and fears, that the organization had been monitoring him for some time. In fact, the surveillance had begun after Toni had been in Africa for about ten days. The concierge responsible for their secret correspondence down there had not been as trustworthy as had been assumed. They knew of him, and they knew that General Mobanta also supervised their secret correspondence. Not trustworthy - that was also true for the Darkwater mercenary, because even if it was never really said out loud - he and his companions had really not come to help Antoine in a difficult time. No. Of course not. They had come to abduct Antoine to Africa because they had initially thought that he had to know something about Toni’s whereabouts. They wanted to use him as an informant and, if necessary, as a hostage, fearing that under pressure or torture Toni would expose their common machinations or that he could break their agreements in his favor. They assumed that Toni would feel too safe because of the media attention he had received during the strikes and riots. That he would play all the parties involved against each other. The word megalomania was used more than once in connection with his lover, and Antoine could only laugh at the naïve ignorance of the American soldiers of fortune. Inside, of course. They didn’t have much humor, and the longer Toni remained untraceable, the less of it came to light. The time of waiting in a military camp outside the city blurred in Antoine’s memory. A few days that had consisted only of tension and fear for Toni. Then, finally, after they had interrogated him over and over again, and had become quite violent, he had convinced them that he had nothing to do with Toni’s disappearance, and that he could not imagine Toni playing a double game with them. Then they had begun to use their three helicopters and all their other means. In retrospect, Toni had learned that an American ambassador had been the driving force behind this search. Toni’s radio message had reached them just in time, because Brian Dubois, the head of the mercenaries, had already ordered them back to camp. Antoine would never forget the words that had so distortedly penetrated his ears through the helmet loudspeakers. Toni’s permanent, maniacal laughter and deeply hidden in it the words: Six times I fall. Six cabins in a circle. Six times I fall. Six cabins in a circle. Six times I fall. Six cabins in a circle. Six times I fall. Six cabins in a circle. Six times I fall. Six cabins in a circle. Six times I fall. Six cabins in a circle. Then they found the small village of resistance fighters and had come over it like a legion of devils. They had taken them all down, and the resistance had been surprisingly low. The men and one woman seemed to be in a strange sleepwalking state. It wasn’t long before Antoine discovered Toni’s hideous figure. Passing the dead and those who had just died, Antoine had run like never before in his life, holding a fire extinguisher from the helicopter in his hands and not paying attention to the slowly fading firefight around him. Towards the burning house connected to the radio mast. He ran into smoke and flames, and none of the mercenaries had wanted to follow him. But they didn’t hold him back, and he made it. They couldn’t believe what they saw when he dragged Toni out of the house. Burnt skin covered with liquid rubber and residues of fire extinguisher powder. Antoine was broken in the knees wheezing, coughing and choking, holding Toni’s head in his lap. They had not been able to believe that this maltreated flesh should still host life. Antoine had not expected it either, but it had happened. Toni Da Silva had opened his eyes one last time before he fell into a coma. When
he realized that Antoine was with him, he had smiled. All this Antoine told him now at his bedside, that, and that the Mafia boss Vascotto was more than annoyed about how his investments had developed on the dark continent. *** Toni waited patiently for the end of Antoine’s report. He was aware that he was not in a state where he should waste energy on shortening the whole thing. Even if he had already made most of it up himself when Antoine had hardly spoken the first sentences. He was still floating in disembodied spheres, and he was more than grateful for that. The dreadful pain that had accompanied his awakening now seemed to him only a faint echo of itself. Toni was hoping that the doctors would not reduce the dose so quickly. He had also been grateful that Antoine’s presence had prevented him from taking stock of his body. The beautiful, almost feminine face of his faithful puppy had been an anchor to him, the lips that had moved gently attracted his gaze, and the content of Antoine’s words distracted him additionally. Then Antoine had to leave. Yeah. Sure. His obligations to the guard. All of a sudden a feeling of gratitude flooded Toni’s mind, which seemed strange and peculiar to him and which he did not know how to classify at first. But yet - Antoine never doubted, not for a second, that Toni would make it. Anyone else would have declared the great plan a failure and sought his fortune elsewhere. But not his puppy. Faithful beyond the coma. He had stuck to the plan, had endured and bravely continued. And not only that, he had reacted independently to the new situation and improvised in Toni’s sense. He had stalled Vascotto, explained everything he could to the clan leader, and Toni was pretty sure that Antoine had also negotiated with the Americans, even though he hadn’t told him yet due to lack of time. If Toni had ever experienced anything like security, it was in Africa, when he came to his senses for a short moment and noticed that Antoine was holding his head. And now here, back in Rome, burned and destroyed - Antoine had also been with him here, when he had opened his eyes again. Toni smiled, and then he fell asleep again. Again his core was moved by unknown power through nothingness, and again it took millions of years or rather seconds, which felt like millions of years, until he was with the paradise people again. With the innocent. But no, that was wrong, he wasn’t with them. Again, he was only a silent observer. Damned to be an outsider. He floated above the scenery where the naked, the beautiful and the ugly, the sick and the healthy, the young and the old, and the men and the women lived their lives. They hunted animals now, he found, and they had become more. Had a single big fire before been enough to warm them in the night and to accompany their love plays with its crackling and to give them protection, now there were three fires burning down there. And this time they did not only illuminate love plays and tenderness. No, there, in the midst of all those people, a man tore a woman to her knees by her hair, slapped her in the face, threw her on her back and then used her. Toni’s attention did not stay long on the two winding bodies. There had been an argument at another fire. From the looks of it, it was about a piece of meat. First they screamed, then one wanted to snatch the object of desire from the other. He resisted and everything culminated in one strangling the other, while a large-eyed child watched laughing and biting off heartily the flesh that had fallen to the ground in a scramble. Also this scene was not able to captivate Toni’s attention for long. What attracted his gaze like magic was not the actual event, it was the faces of the audience. There was no judgment in their cheerfulness, no fear that in any way what they had just observed might happen to them too. No father or mother pulled a child aside to protect it or stood in front of it ready to fight. In general, neither the perpetrators nor the victims of the violent events were given special attention afterwards. Even the raped woman did not behave as Toni had expected. After it was over, she mingled with those present again and laughed and joked with them as if nothing had ever happened. Even their tormentor was not shunned or even punished for what he had done. He went over to the strangled man’s body. They had already begun to eat from him, and he joined them and waited patiently until it was his turn. No blame, and no guilt in his face either. In the woman’s face, no grief, no humiliation, no shame. She laughed and joked again, just like everyone else did. This cruel lightness attracted him as the light attracted the moth. There was nothing evil here. Nothing bad, but nothing good either. Only simple being, subjected to the laws of the bodies, but not to those of an artificial morality or those that man made. Paradisaical existence without any self-reflection. Toni wanted to go, wanted to mingle with them and be himself. His will, however, felt slippery, strangely diffuse, and the more he tried, the farther they moved away from them, the paler they became, and Toni despaired again. Deeper, I have to go deeper, I have to die in there, I have to rise there like a spark turns into fire. But they disappear, they don’t want me with them, but I want to be with them. I must be among them! I must have that innocence! *** Antoine’s cell phone rang and he answered the call. “Antoine Neri? Is it you?” “Yes, Doctor Bruno. What’s the matter with? Did something happen? Is something...” “Lord... I don’t know how to say this, but...” “No you have to to speak up, Doctor! I’m in the middle of the tourist turmoil here at the Colosseum. Tell me! What about Mr. Da Silva? He’s not...?” “No, no, no, no! He’s alive, but... how can I put this? He’s reopened most of his wounds. We were forced to significantly increase the amount of painkillers again. I don’t know how this happened, but it’s not gonna happen a second time. We’ve got him fixed and we’re keeping him under strict surveillance.” “All right, Doctor. I’m coming.” Antoine hung up. Then he dialed another number, that of a comrade in the Swiss Guard. D´Angelo reacted little surprised. He had often stood in for Antoine when this had been on his own business. From time to time Antoine let him fuck him and did a lot of other things to keep him weighed - and not only to reward him for the many extra shifts he worked for Antoine. Antoine did the same with his captain, and it was only thanks to his support that they had not yet kicked him out. His unexcused disappearance - his abduction to Africa - had nevertheless not gone unnoticed, and he had had to undergo some rather unpleasant interviews in order to retain his post. Fortunately, Toni had foreseen that sooner or later such situations might come to Antoine and provided him with a variety of quite convincing stories. Antoine would never have come across most of them himself. Wasn’t his strong suit. He had to go to the hospital. He had to know what was going on with Toni. He wondered if he should take his little car, but then he decided against it and set off on foot. Soon, the evening traffic would start and clog the streets. As he walked, he thought. Toni must have suffered something unspeakable down there. When they freed him, Antoine hadn’t cared. The mercenaries had told him later about the hole in the ground and that they had found a half-digested finger next to a pile of dog excrement. And that was just the obvious, besides the horrible burns and the gunshot wound. Hopefully they didn’t break you, Toni, he thought and bumped into a passer-by who then lost his balance. Antoine went on, ignoring the loud scolding of the man. Hopefully, his lover, his life, would be the same again. Antoine had to admit to himself that his strength had been strained in the meantime. Of course, Toni’s awakening gave him new hope, but before that happened, Antoine had been on the verge of despair. And now Toni seemed to be awake, but something was wrong with him. To reopen the wounds that had taken so long to heal at least halfway. Antoine had to hold on. He would always love Toni, no matter what his body looked like, it wasn’t that. But the thought that Toni deliberately damaged himself, although he, Antoine, wished for nothing more than his recovery, filled him with a sadness, and also with a touch of anger. We against the rest of the world, Toni. That’s our deal. That we’ll be kings. Don’t cheat on me like that, Toni. Don’t deceive us that way. Not by cowardly evading the world, you hear me? Toni had played and lost. But not the war - just this one round, played in a country whose rules Toni had never learned. He had been arrogant, no question about it. But he would learn. He would emerge stronger from this cause, and Antoine would take care of that. Arriving at Toni’s room
door, the few tears Antoine had cried on the way had long since dried. The guards didn’t need to see them. Antoine pushed the handle down. They were putting on new bandages for Toni and Antoine saw that he was awake. Toni stared at the ceiling with open eyes. He had not yet noticed Antoine, and he withdrew so that the two nurses could do their work undisturbed and under the supervision of Doctor Bruno. It took quite a while until they came out, and when it was time, Antoine rose from the bench on the side of the corridor where he had taken his seat and walked towards the doctor. He recognized him immediately. At first Antoine had the feeling that the doctor had something against gays, but this feeling had subsided over time. Antoine’s daily appearance at the hospital seemed to have proven to the man that there seemed to be something like love and loyalty even in these circles, which were probably completely unknown to him. Antoine’s shoes squeak on the linoleum floor when he stopped in front of the man. “How is he, Doctor? Do you know why he did this? Did he say anything? Did he...” “As circumstances dictate, he’s fine. He was in a lot of pain, but somehow I think that’s what he wanted. He was screaming in agony, but still we had to force him to stop. He didn’t say anything, at least not to me. Take care of him, Mr. Neri. His mind also needs attention now. Letting the flesh heal isn’t enough. Tell him about everyday life, tell him what’s in the papers. He needs to get back to reality. At the moment he’s back on cloud number seven, but we can’t dose that high for all eternity. His organs ...” Antoine nodded and left the doctor. The two guards at the door who were supposed to keep the reporters away had changed, but the two new men also knew Antoine and let him in without any trouble. Carefully he closed the door behind him, after he had once again made them understand that without his consent under no circumstances could anyone reach Toni who had nothing to do with his recovery. The man on the left grunted, and the slightly younger guy on the right nodded and then straightened his professional gaze again. Toni’s face brightened a little when he saw Antoine enter, but not as much as he had hoped. A little tense, Antoine stepped to the bed. He didn’t say anything, just looked at the bloody bandages after he knocked the blanket back. Apart from the bandages, Toni was naked, which made his treatment and care easier. The middle of his body was bedded on an absorbent medical pad. It was fresh and clean. They had also washed him after they had treated his wounds. He had become very thin, and there seemed to be hardly a square centimetre of uninjured skin on his body. It hurt to see him like that, but Antoine was not allowed to protect him. Not now. Not now. Clear words were necessary. The doctor was right. Toni had to be urgently anchored in reality again. “What do you do, Toni, huh?” “I’m traveling. I... I have to go back, Antoine. You don’t understand, but there is a place, a place in darkness. A place I need to get back to. I...” The painkillers could be heard in Toni’s voice. He spoke quietly and weakly and somehow babbling, but then again not like a drunk. He was clearly high. Actually, he couldn’t be talking, thought Antoine. The painkillers had not been reduced. He took a quick step toward the infusion stand. No, they hadn’t changed them. Only the flow rate was increased. Nevertheless, the words were incoherent and made no sense to Antoine when Toni continued. He pulled up a chair and sat next to Toni at head height to look at him. Toni looked strangely rejuvenated despite all the agony, again a bit more like the adolescent he had met at first. Only more vulnerable, with thin, waxy skin. Antoine could see the fine veins shimmering around his eyes. He stroked his head and interrupted his flow of speech. Then he kissed him and Antoine didn’t know if it was a reflex or intention that Toni returned the kiss and gently bit his lips. It was a long kiss, and when they separated again, Antoine said: “You can’t do this to me anymore, Toni, do you hear? I need you to come back to me. You can’t leave. You have to stay here. With me! I can’t do it otherwise, you know?” Antoine had not put a plea in his voice. He sounded like he was presenting facts, maybe explaining an Excel sheet. “Do you know I’ve killed three people since you went to Africa? Mostly guys from the street who got on my nerves. Had to beat up some of Vascotto’s boys, too. The old man’s upset, you know? His money’s gone, and he got no return. You have to think of something. We still need him. Maybe not himself, but his organization, that’s what we need. If you don’t soon become yourself again, Toni, then all we’ve built was in vain. We’ve got enough money to live on for now. That’s not the problem. But we have to move on. Also because of Vascotto. And I can’t do that without you.” Toni smiled and Antoine began to stroke his head. “I understand. But...” “I don’t think you really understand, Toni. This whole thing - the kidnapping - made quite a splash. The general interest in you is very huge. Not just Vascotto’s or the Americans’. The press and the church - they are all just waiting to throw themselves at you again. There are questions. Questions we need to answer, you know? I need your brain, clear and sharp, lover. It can’t be that everything was for nothing, you understand that?” “My puppy, you’ve really gotten your teeth since I left.” Toni said this with a smile and a tenderness that Antoine had only noticed in him in very rare moments. He didn’t know how to handle it. One part of him was happy, another feared that Toni’s own teeth might have become a little dull. He didn’t say anything about it. For many minutes he sat silently at Toni’s bed and looked at him. Toni had turned his eyes back to nothingness, but grumbled comfortably about Antoine’s casual caresses. Antoine couldn’t think of anything better. Not right now, anyway. Maybe that way he’d be able to keep him in reality. He intensified his efforts, moved them to Toni’s center, and when he had poured himself into his hand, Antoine led it to his mouth and let Toni see it. Shortly afterwards he quietly said goodbye and with a kiss left Toni to his dreams. Toni was insatiable, knew Antoine and loved that. But he couldn’t stay with him permanently to take care of him in this way. He took his wallet out of his back pocket and checked its contents. Then he walked down the hallway to the balcony where one of the nurses, a rather young thing, smoked a cigarette. He came up to her and set lit one fire, too. At first she was outraged and almost slapped Antoine in the face. The fact that Toni was a priest seemed to bother her especially, but Antoine managed to dispel her concerns. On the one hand, by increasing the sum by a considerable amount, and on the other hand, by assuring her that with her services she would speed up the healing of the patient in a very godly way. She chose to believe him. *** Antoine was getting ready for duty. He wasn’t concentrating. His thoughts still lingered with Toni. It was no longer so much the state of health of his lover that caused him headaches, but rather his state of mind. No, Antoine corrected, not only his state of mind, but also the question how much Toni’s actual soul, his core, had suffered from the traumatic events. He casually nodded over to the other guardsmen who, like himself, were busy taking off their street clothes and slipping into the antique-looking dark blue uniforms. There was D´Angelo, a big, broad guy with whom Antoine had made an exploitative friendship in many ways. Next to him, Cavadini was knotting his shoes down, which, as Antoine knew, would result in a moderate odour nuisance in a few seconds and was always a reason for rough jokes. Then there were Favre and Gautier, two young men who came from the same region and held together like pitch and brimstone. Bernasconi just walked in the door. He looked stressed, and Antoine knew exactly why. Unlike D´Angelo, Antoine had not succeeded in making friends with him or maneuvering him into a sexual relationship. Actually, Bernasconi hated Antoine like the plague. Not ideal, but the man had so many vices and weaknesses that it had been logical to blackmail him into part of his secret team within the Guard. He gave Antoine a grumpy look, then nodded over to the others and then began to change as well. “Somehow I’m tired of being constantly gawked at by tourists and posing for photos,” complained Cavadini. Favre grumbled confirmingly. They were all tired of that part of their work. Yet it had to be done. The holiday tourists, who visited the Vatican neither for cultural nor religious reasons, were not well liked. They brought profanity into the holy halls, and even though their commander
Greve always preached that it was important to welcome these people with open arms and to give them a good image of the heart of the Catholic Church, this did not change the low opinion most guardsmen had of these people. Antoine, of course, didn’t care whether he was watching true believers or a horde of small Japanese people with cameras. D´Angelo saw it the same way. And the others, too, were professional enough to put their true feelings behind their claim to their own work. No matter how religious the guardsmen actually were, no matter how antiquated they were dressed up with their collars and berets and their halberds and their uniforms - they were all excellent soldiers, and with few exceptions absolutely devoted to their task. This did not mean, however, that they were stupid or simply knitted. Antoine had quickly established this when he had observed Bernasconi in order to find leverage against him. Moreover, they were all highly motivated and proud to have been chosen to serve in the Vatican. The better Antoine had got to know the countless rules and small unwritten laws of the Guard, the security routines - those that concerned daily tasks, but also those that dealt with internal affairs - the more he had lost his self-assured arrogance. Yes, he certainly had to deal with believing sheep’s heads, but naive, unworldly or a genuine foll was certainly not to be found among them. Favre had finished dressing in the meantime. There was still a little time to go on duty, and from his little sports backpack he brought out an edition of La Republica and turned to page two. The crackling of inferior paper filled the somewhat too small team room and D´Angelo looked up. “And what do they write about Brother Raphael?” “That his condition is unchanged. And more hymns of praise for his work in Africa. A truly man of the Church, who not only preaches the doctrines of his Order, but also lives them - that is what they write,” replied the person addressed with a somewhat absent voice. He was still busy reading. “God be with him. When he regains consciousness, he is to be appointed Cardinal of Honour, they say.” Antoine gave D´Angelo a quick look. Antoine had not yet told the man that Toni was already awake. He didn’t need to know. Nobody needed, even if he could not delay it for all eternity. Even the media didn’t know it yet. He was glad that the guards at the door had so far succeeded well in shielding Toni from the reporters. Nevertheless, Antoine knew that it was only a matter of time before something would leak out. The staff had been forbidden to talk to outsiders, and so far - not least because of the financial incentives Antoine had created - this had worked quite well, but at some point a resourceful reporter would catch a nurse in a weak moment and get to know more in one way or another. “That would be the youngest honorary cardinal of all time, wouldn’t it? But well, on the other hand - the boy could really become the new face of the church. He has charisma, you have to give him that, even though he is by no means the only one who achieves great things.” “Charisma always comes with vanities. For my taste, he worked far too closely with the secular institutions and the press down there. For the good cause, sure, but you have to admit that he knew a little too well to present himself. That’s probably why he was kidnapped. Because he was too good.” “Times are changing. We have a problem getting offspring. And that’s not just for the guard. This applies to the Church in general. Somehow we have to rejuvenate ourselves. I think the Holy Father will know what he’s doing, won’t he?” “There’s no doubt about it. But is that even official? The thing with the Cardinal of Honor?” Cavadini had now interfered in the conversation between Favre and D´Angelo, and Bernasconi also looked disgruntled but interested and pricked up his ears. “I don’t know, I heard it at dinner. LeFleur and Baston talked about it.” “Well, they should know, shouldn’t they? Since they are so very close to the Holy Father...” They all giggled. The two clerics were not particularly popular among the guardsmen and were often the subject of insinuating jokes, but these were always directed against the persons themselves and never against the offices they held. When the laughter had faded away, it was time to start guard duty. At the end of the shift Antoine felt tired, exhausted and tense. Even his comrades were no different. He really hated the representative duties of the Guard. They were grueling and did not get him any further. Although he had the commander of the guard as good as in his hands, he had not yet used his knowledge to gain advantages. He had to be careful and not get any more attention. His longer-term goal was of course to get a higher position, but they were very sought after and a double-edged sword. He would be subject to even more scrutiny than already was the case, and the resulting responsibility would severely restrict his freedom of movement. At the moment he could not have that, so he had already set some things in motion, but had not yet started to really put his plans into action. With a quick glance and a wink, their secret sign, Antoine made it clear to D´Angelo that he should come as quickly as possible and without attracting attention in one of Antoine’s apartments spread all over the city, reserved for their meetings. Then he left the locker room and the barracks. He went through the Santa Anna and the Via delle Grazie. He would let D´Angelo fuck him, that was exactly what he needed now. Sex and a beer or two. Maybe a little more speed, but that was risky. No drug test had been done for a long time, but the next one would come, that was for sure. Only now, after his shift, Antoine noticed how stressed he had been the whole time. He was in desperate need of relaxation, and he also had to give some instructions to D´Angelo . For a brief moment, Antoine denied himself the anticipation of the physical pleasures that awaited him, and he wondered whether he should perhaps pay one or two thugs to make a little trouble tomorrow on St. Peter’s Square so that he, Antoine the elite guard, could shine with competence and presence of mind and beat them up properly, when his cell phone rang. The display showed the number of the nurse Antoine had entrusted with the special task. Cock care for Toni. He answered immediately. For a few minutes he listened to her tirades, and in the course of those minutes he became paler and paler. Finally, he just said, “I’m coming.” He hung up, cancelled his date with D´Angelo and went back to the hospital as fast as possible. *** “Tell me, Toni, have you lost your mind? What the fuck are you doing? I mean... What are you thinking? I paid that girl to make you happy once in a while. What’s the problem with that? Why did you bite her bloody?” Toni’s voice was very calm, though still weak. “I just wanted to show her how it was done. How she’s supposed to do it. You had me tied up. I can’t do it myself anymore.” “Do what yourself, Toni, what? Continue mutilating yourself? Rip open all your wounds again? Of course she won’t help you with that! She was supposed to do you two or three times a day - not give you an infection.” “But don’t you understand? I’ve got to get back! That’s the only way.” Toni’s eyes were shining now. The pupils were tiny and he looked at Antoine crying for understanding. He didn’t feel at all comfortable with the way Toni presented himself to him. The facial expression, the waxy, sweaty skin and the bloody mouth - now Antoine seriously feared that his Toni might have gone insane. “Where are you going back to, Toni?” “I think I’ve seen paradise, Antoine. The real Garden of Eden. Not as they tell it in their books and the masses and bibles, but full of innocence and beauty. They were naked and they loved each other, and they were cruel and did terrible things to each other. And yet in this place there was no concept of evil, no right or wrong, no good or bad and no ... it was a bit like the men in Africa who ...” Toni’s face now looked like that of a teenager who was in love for the first time. Enthusiastic and unworldly at the same time. Antoine, who was now standing next to Toni’s bed, grabbed the rods of the bed area more tightly. As sorry as I am, darling, I’m afraid those dirty fucks didn’t just burn your skin. From the very first moment, from the second Toni woke up, Antoine had had a bad feeling deep inside, far back in his head. Now he saw his bad premonitions confirmed and was forced to acknowledge them as true. But he wasn’t allowed to give up so quickly. “No, Toni. You don’t have to go there. You must return here quickly and with all your attention. I need you to help me with Vascotto. I think he sent another guy to sneak up on me. Toni, the man wants his
money back. And if you want to keep using him, you have to come up with something. I think the Americans sent one or two of these Darkwater guys, too. Maybe we should let them talk to Vascotto? They want to make you Cardinal of Honor, by the way, I hear. Toni, do you understand? Your big plan is taking on more and more concrete forms, and you want to go hunting opium fantasies? You want to keep hurting yourself so they give you more painkillers? What are you talking about? Should I get some heroin, huh?” Toni had kept on babbling all the time about the Garden of Eden and innocence and paradise, and now, after Antoine had finished, he was radiant with total emotion. “Oh yes, please Antoine! Heroin would be great! Because they won’t let me into their little paradise. Whenever I want to go there, they disappear! But I have to get in there, Antoine, you understand? I really need to find a way in! And I can’t do that here. It didn’t work with the pain and injuries, maybe I’m already too healthy again, too strong. I ... we must ... I must perhaps be broken again so that they let me in or at least so that I can find a way to stay there long enough to force my entry, Antoine. Do you understand what I’m saying? Do you understand what I’m saying? Please, tell me you understand! Paradise, Antoine! Paradise!” Antoine didn’t understand. “Of course I understand you, my love. I understand you only too well. I have to go now, but I’ll see what I can do for you.” Antoine gently stroked Toni’s face, kissed him on the forehead and left the hospital room. Ten minutes later, he had located Doctor Bruno. He was not at all pleased to see Antoine, whose protégé had ensured that one of his nurses had fled the building screaming and bleeding. When Antoine apologized for Toni, he knew that he would have to take care of the little bitch. Now that Toni had hurt her, she would certainly no longer feel bound by her promise of silence. She had left little doubt about it on her angry phone call. But Antoine wasn’t roaming through the whole station to find the doctor, because he wanted to know something about the injured nurse. He gave the doctor money for his discretion. And then he gave him more money so he could find a reason to put Toni back in a coma. Delusions were a good argument, and the doctor muttered something of brain and recovery. This is the best way, Antoine thought, better than heroin, and better than letting him wake up with these twisted, ridiculous thoughts. If he is to cross over again into the realm of dreams, he should stay there until he has completely recovered and sane again. *** The vague memory of an infusion needle accompanied Toni Da Silva into the blackness he had longed for. Again he escaped the prison of his body and all its profane sensations. Pure spirit and pure will, the components of his core, drifted by. Without a concept of height or depth, without a concept of hours or years, without a concept of near and far. But also without seeing the light that used to lead Toni to paradise. He did not know whether his will´s efforts to change direction - here or there without a plan - had any effect at all, because there was nothing to orient himself on. And so he tormented himself further, and with the unmeasurable passing of time his despair grew. It should be assumed that this urgency with which he demanded his entry into Paradise would ease or become milder with the passing of time. But it wasn’t like that. The desire and the longing drove Toni Da Silva’s spirit until he had completely exhausted himself. Now he knew no striving, no will and no goals. Small glowing particles floated through his field of vision, and he knew they were parts of himself, parts of his essence that he was about to lose. He reached out his hands to them, tried to hold them, but in vain. They always slipped away from him. Always they avoided his fingers and always they were a little faster than him. Fear took possession of him as they grew more and more and finally a worrying stream of particles flowed from him and disappeared into the black nothingness of the infinite space in which he was. The fear and horror he felt, the fear of the dissolution of his core, produced a hot energy impulse that - finally - propelled him forward. He followed the beam of particles that seemed to flee from him, even overtook them a few times, and then he saw it. The light. Paradise. The joy Toni Da Silva felt at that moment could not be compared to anything. To no emotion and no physical ecstasy he had ever experienced. He was racing towards the light, carried by blessed joy, overtaking again the smallest parts of himself, also attracted by this evergreen garden of Eden, which knew no morals. Sometimes he even managed to reintegrate them, and the more often this happened and the closer he came to his core’s desired goal, the greater his anticipation became. And he wasn’t disappointed. He had never been as close as he was that day, and the colors and outlines were clear and strong. They were still naked and their numbers had remained about the same. They had probably settled down, the cruel and the good. There was still murder and rape, and they still ate each other, and there was still no shyness, no remorse, no grief, and nothing to indicate the existence of feelings of guilt. But he was still separated from them by an invisible barrier. They still seemed to elude him to the same extent that he tried to get to them. He couldn’t understand it. He couldn’t understand why they showed him something so wonderful, but didn’t want to let him take part. The first two times he had hurried, had stormed with pure will power on all the so innocent people. This time he was more careful, circling the group, playing around them like a soft wind, and sometimes he almost thought he had been discovered by them. That they could feel him. When he stared at one or the other of them particularly intensely, this turned to him at some point slightly suspiciously and searched the surroundings with glances. Toni watched them for a long time. He witnessed their murders and their love. Witness their infamy and nobility. Only that they had no words for any of these incidents and principles. Any behavior that a person could display was accepted here in a natural, self-evident way. He accompanied some of them to the river, where they relieved themselves and caught fish, and swam and mated. Toni came a little closer when they had stretched out and loved each other on the banks of the river, without any worldly factor playing a role in the choice of partner. He went where a dark-haired woman rode a well-equipped silver-furred man and began masturbating to share her desire to be close to them. Fascinated, he looked at her erect nipples, her firm, but in some places flawed skin, he looked into the faces of the two, distorted by heated lust and additionally fired by the sounds of lust of the others around them. Toni went behind the head of the silver hair lying on his back. He wanted to see better how the shaft of the man slipped into and out of the woman, wetted by her moisture and smacking. He kneeled down, facing her, and looked at her from the front. The orgasm would not be long in coming. Neither that of the two Paradise men nor his own. She intensified her efforts, the silver fur held his breath. She moaned, clawed herself into his fur, and now the man could no longer hold on to himself, grabbed her firmly by the hips, interrupted the elegant flow of her movements and pushed firmly and deeply into her, pushing her forward a little bit each time, in Toni’s direction. And then he poured himself into her, accompanied by a deep and primal grunt, and Toni could see that she twisted her eyes and was seized by very similar feelings. Toni was carried away by the archaic nature of this act, and he also poured himself into the damp grass, almost hitting the head of the silver fur. And that was exactly the moment when both Toni and the woman noticed that something was wrong. Why did Toni suddenly have a body? How could he even wank off himself in this paradise that had never let him in before? The woman didn’t ask herself any such questions. She just screamed and stared in his direction. Purest fear and horror lay in her outcry, unadulterated by vain considerations and attempts to explain. Pure fear. Afraid of him. She jumped up, and the half flabby dick of the silver furry smacked out of her, closely followed by heavy drops of sticky seed that landed on the center of her lover’s body and now glittered in the sun. He also quickly turned around to Toni, jerked back into a squatting position in front of him, then jumped up and started running as well. The fear, the panic and the screaming quickly spread to all the paradise people in the area, and soon Toni Da Silva was alone on the riverbank. He didn’t understand. Apparently he had somehow managed to penetrate th
is small and apparently so peaceful world, which was perfect by his standards. Actually, that was a reason for joy. But the reactions of the paradise people ... He walked along the river for a while, and it took him some time to realize that he actually had a body in this world. And when he saw his true reflection in the river, when he saw what kind of body he had received, he could not bear it. He had to get out of here. Away at all costs. This wasn’t paradise. Not for those like him. *** Antoine left the little bistro where he had had a modest dinner. Dinner, three small beers and two shots. That was quite respectable by his standards, but he needed the hollow energy and relaxation that the alcohol gave him. His footsteps were not quite as powerful as usual as he made his way through the streets and alleys of Rome to his quarters in the Guard Barracks. He wondered if he should stop by D´Angelo to relax a bit more. He liked the thought, but still pushed it away. If he went to have sex now, he’d feel like taking drugs - and if he took drugs today, he’d be all screwed up tomorrow and would be just useless. And then he’d use stimulants to do his duty. This would create stress, which he would then have to eliminate again with all kinds of chemical aids at the end of his shift. Antoine knew the cycle. He had experienced it often enough himself, and he had used the wretched creatures that could not break out of it often enough for his own purposes. He knew his stuff. There are people who enrich their lives with drugs and there are people who live their lives for drugs. It’s better to be one of the first. Anyway, it had already turned out later than intended when he walked in a slight inclination through a residential area near the Via Aurelia. At this late hour the streets were halfway free of tourists. They sat in the restaurants, pubs and hotel bars and had a good time. The alley in front of him was empty. From further away he could hear two or three Vespa engines howling. The thought of sex had given him half a boner and a slight tingling sensation spread to his groin. But he also suppressed this feeling. He had often wondered why he allowed Toni to treat him so badly, why he remained loyal to him despite the emotional power gap between them. Just like a puppy. Toni said so himself. The answer was obvious. Because he loved him. And because there wasn’t another person in the whole world that he could say that about. That’s why. But this confused human ruin in the hospital babbling away - was that still Toni at all? “God damn shit,” he mumbled into himself half-voicedly. He shouldn’t think like that. Then he laughed mockingly. Wasn’t it in good times and bad? With the sheep? Didn’t they have so much more in common than a ridiculous vows taken from some consecrated pederast? Hadn’t they exchanged so much more than a ring made of the most expensive and shiny metal possible? But still, Antoine couldn’t completely shut himself off from the thought if he was honest with himself. And to be relentlessly honest with himself - wasn’t that the premise under which he and Toni wanted to live? Wasn’t that the foundation for a free, truly free life? Antoine was more drunk and exhausted than he had expected, and so he leaned heavily against the wall of the house to his right, because of these thoughts, and gave a deep sigh. Then there they were. Three of Vascotto’s men. Two of them he had already beaten up quite a bit during earlier attempts of the Mafia boss to get hold of him, and they still carried the traces of their failures in their faces. These looked particularly ill-tempered. They weren’t all young anymore. They all carried more or less pronounced pasta bellies in front of them, but Antoine was not deceived by this. They were mean pigs, and they weren’t unarmed. One, an unkempt mid-fifties guy, pulled out a switchblade and snapped the blade open. Another, a somewhat younger brunette male slut whom Antoine knew from the clubs, held an underarm long iron pipe in his hands, and the third man had a heavy metal chain with a padlock at the end dangling back and forth at his knees in a pathetic attempt to appear threatening. Antoine appraised them. First the guy with the switchblade. He’d be the first to attack. Kick the knee away, then put two fingers in the eye. You couldn’t make more plans in a situation like this. Such things were subject to a certain dynamic, and in the end only speed and instinct were decisive. In order to see his own prediction true, Antoine nodded to the jumping knife man. Come on, get on with it! He almost got carried away with a silly Bruce Lee wave, but for that he would have had to neglect his cover. Still, he had to smile for a second. Then it started. Luck wasn’t good for Antoine. He missed the man’s knee, and before he could sink his outstretched fingers into his face, the one with the iron pipe hit him on the side of his head. They didn’t leave it at that, he registered it when he regained consciousness. His body hurt in much more places than it would have been necessary to transport him to this semi-dark basement room. Tediously, and anxious to get a quick overview of his situation, he tried to lift his head. He had been tied to a chair, his hands tied behind the backrest. His legs were free. Stupid amateurs, he thought. They had to be in the cellar of some restaurant or pub that belonged to Vascotto. Beverage crates piled up against the walls. Emptied bottles on the left, full bottles on the right. Beer, aqua and small wine crates. PET bottles with sugar water in many variations. Vascotto sat in a slightly bent posture on a folding chair two meters away from him. His three henchmen had built up behind him and grinned at Antoine maliciously. “I’m sorry it went this way. But you didn’t want to talk to me. It was your choice, boy.” The old Mafia boss was still quite civilized, but Antoine could see that he was about to lose it. “I told your people I couldn’t give them any information. I don’t know what went wrong in Africa, and I don’t know where your money went. And since Toni has not yet regained consciousness, I cannot tell you how he envisages the rest of the procedure. I have asked for patience - not because I want to stall you, but simply because there is nothing I can do. You should have accepted that.” Vascotto jumped up angry. “You little shit don’t tell me what to accept, you know? That’s for me to decide, and for me alone! Do you have any idea how much this is about? No, you didn’t, I can see that. Your little Don never gave you all the information, did he? Just what you really needed to know. That must be very frustrating, especially now that I’m going to take my anger out on you.” Vascotto took a dramatic break and watched Antoine from top to bottom. “I’d let my boys rape you now, either with their dicks or with baseball bats, no matter. But I have a dull feeling you’d like that, so I guess that’s out of the question. Too bad, boys, huh?” He looked back for applause, and each of the three jokers felt compelled to murmur some meanness. The words turned into a gloating laugh, and when it had faded away, Vascotto continued. “But imagine, boy, I’m not even really into money. Risk business is my profession, sometimes you just lose. Bet on the wrong little horse. I’ll take that like an adult. I’m more worried about the information situation. You know, there will be investigations. Interrogations and questions waiting for Brother Raphael as soon as he wakes up. He made too big a wave, your friend. And, well, how shall I say, the new prominence of your master unfortunately makes it quite difficult for me to influence the outcome of these things. I can’t get to him, at least not discreetly. And discretion is an invaluably important factor in such a delicate matter. Especially when I have far too little information about what happened down there in that dirty country. I wonder what he was up to with the Kaffirs, the fine priest boy? And what about the Americans? With that corrupt ambassador and the mercenaries? You know what I mean? So many imponderables. I don’t feel very comfortable with it.” He now stood up, walking around Antoine in a circle, his fleshy hands crossed behind his back. “You know, I like to admit that maybe I’m spoiling the chances of future business. Possibly even on very lucrative deals. Because your master is certainly not stupid, and he has ambitions. Qualities I appreciate to a certain extent. But I’m an old man, even if I find it hard to admit it. I don’t want to have so much excitement in my life anymore. My wife and a few lovers and children and a flourishing business. Security is very important to me. This situation is not secured. I can’t control it. That’s why I have to do something. That’s why I need you to do something for me.” Vascotto leaned forward, close to An
toine’s face. “Make sure he doesn’t wake up again.” Antoine refused. They beat him. Antoine refused, feverishly searching for arguments to persuade the Mafia boss to change his mind. They beat him further and then hung him on his arms in order to beat him even better. Antoine refused. They broke his two lowest ribs. Antoine refused. They stopped and did what Vascotto had promised before. Antoine refused. Only when the one with the switchblade had put the blade on the pubic bone and cut two centimeters deep, did he agree. *** A week later, Antoine still carried the traces of the mistreatment on his face and under his clothes, and still hobbled as he entered the Sana Mundi hospital through the underground garage and went to Toni’s room. He had easily escaped the attention of the press, who were no longer as attentive as they had been at the beginning of the whole affair. Doctor Bruno had called him and told him that Toni had regained consciousness despite the artificially induced coma. Something about resistances he had been talking about. Today was the last day of the period that Vascotto had given Antoine to fulfill his mission. And he had to wake up today of all days, Antoine thought. He could have slept a little longer. Would have been better. Easier. He was still in pain, but it didn’t really bother him. Toni had also liked to hurt him and leave his traces in his flesh. Antoine could draw some pleasure from it. What made it difficult for him was the fact that he had been deprived of his free will. Either way, he’d make them pay for it. But now he had to dedicate himself to Toni. His hand remained on the door handle for a few seconds, then he pushed it down and entered after the two guards had stepped aside. When he entered the sickroom, Toni stared stubbornly straight ahead and didn’t seem to notice him at first. He looked even worse than he did on Antoine’s previous visits. But he was awake, and after a few seconds his gaze caught on Antoine. He pulled up a chair and took a seat next to the bed. As always. “We need to talk, Toni. You have to give Vascotto something, do you hear?” “Hey, Puppy? Why can’t I see joy in your face? At least I made it back to the living.” Toni Da Silva’s voice was still weak and did not reflect the serenity inherent in his words. “Don’t do that, Toni. We really don’t have time for this nonsense right now. Vascotto doesn’t trust you anymore. He’s scared, the little bastard. Afraid you’d talk. You’ve got a lot of things ahead of you. It will not be possible to forever cover up that you have awakened, and your superiors and the Italian authorities and the press have some questions for you. You can’t escape that. At least not if our plan still holds. Then you must find ways to... ” “Our plan? Our plan! Yes, of course, our big plan. It’s void. Antoine, they broke me. I’m not gonna make it. Not any more. Antoine, I’ve seen paradise, but it’s not real. It’s not a...” It was almost as if Toni was talking to himself. “I’ve seen things that have changed everything. I’ve learned things that have shown me the ridiculousness of what we do. There really is hell, you know? And there’s a seat reserved for me there. For you, too, I guess. But I guess you won’t have to go that low. You...” Now it was up to Antoine to interrupt Toni. “That’s just exhaustion talking about you, Toni! Please, you have to pull yourself together. It can’t end like this! We’ve gone way too far, you and I. If we play our cards right now, we’ll come out of this whole thing like the Phoenix out of the ashes. Strong. Unbending. Invincible. Just the way it’s supposed to be. But I need you to help me. I need you to give me something to work with. Come on, Toni, you have to look behind this haze of drugs and pain that surrounds you, you...” “Oh, there’s something behind that haze ... I saw it. I’ve seen it, and it’s not pretty, Antoine. It’s not pretty, and it’s waiting for me. And our plan can’t change that. By that measure, our plan is nothing more than a drop of water in the seas, believe me. If you had seen what I saw, then...” “They’re delusions, aren’t they? Nothing but illusions created by the drugs in your brain, the drugs and your trauma. Get over it! You must...” Antoine kept getting louder. “I don’t have to do anything, my doggy. Let them do to me what they want. It doesn’t matter anymore. You do with me what you have to do. I know why you’re here. Do it and then go on. Save yourself if you can. Accept defeat and prolong your miserable life if you like. In the end, it won’t do you good any more than it will do me. But perhaps at times you will succeed in creating something true. You know, innocence isn’t absolute. Innocence is deeply subjective, and I am no longer able to find it. Go away, Antoine, let me live or not, but go away.” Toni drove his furred tongue over his torn lips. He gathers strength, thought Antoine, and then Toni continued. “You know, all I ever did was use you. I have never loved you or felt anything silly about you in this direction. You’ve been my best and most loyal toy. But the time for playing is over now, Antoine. You’re free. And you owe me nothing. I’ve seen things that... just go live the rest of your miserable human life as best you can. You too will have to pay sometime, puppy, that much is for sure, you too will ...” Antoine didn’t listen anymore. With a blank face he looked down on Toni Da Silva. *** Antoine walked with measured steps towards the wide marble staircase leading to the extravagant entrance area of Vascotto’s country house. It was warm, although the sun had long since set. The two guards had unbuttoned their shirts and laid their hands demonstratively on the handles of their Berettas as Antoine approached. This is where Vascotto had dinner with Toni, thought Antoine. Here Toni had convinced the man to trust him. Here a big step of our plan has been realized. Toni succeeded. This is where Toni fought and won. Antoine demonstratively stretched out his two empty hands to the sides as he climbed the steps of the marble staircase. He remembered Toni’s words. The last he could remember. I never loved you. I’ve used you all the time. Go. You’re free. Antoine had made his decision. He had swallowed what Toni had given him to swallow, this time metaphorically. But Antoine had made no distinction between Toni’s sperm and Toni’s confused words. He got to the entrance. There were tears in his eyes. The two henchmen came up to him to search him for weapons. One of them had been in the basement. Antoine continued to reach out his open hands to them. He had a lot to talk about with Vascotto. Personally. Mostly personally. Suddenly, each of his hands formed a pistol. Robber and gendarme, a childish game, only this one was serious. He spread out his arms, aimed his fingers directly at the faces of the two guards. Then he let his thumbs snap forward. One of the two suspected something, stopped astonished, groped for his weapon. His head burst before the shot from D´Angelos Sig 550 rifle was heard. The projectile tore a big hole in the front door after it hit the skull. The second shot wasn’t long in coming. He hit the other henchman right in the chest, ripping aorta and lung. After the bullet had done its work, it got stuck in the thick walls of the country house. Not even a second had passed between the two shots. Swiss precision. Antoine didn’t waste any unnecessary time either. Now it was time. He bent down. The stench of approaching death reached his nose, but he did not allow himself to be put off. He drew the weapons of the dead and the dying from the belt holsters. You could just rely on D´Angelo. He would have disassembled his rifle by now and be on his way to safety. Antoine had not wanted him to do more than that for the time being. It had to be enough. As a first test. With a gun in each hand, he entered the house. Twice he had to shoot all his bullets and take the weapons from the newly dead until he stood in front of Vascotto. A nine-millimeter bullet was stuck in the don´s left shoulder, and another had torn a piece of meat from his right thigh. Everyone else met a worse fate. Also Vascotto’s wife and two of his sons. Anyone who’d shown up, to be exact. Now the Mafia boss whimpered for his life, begged and pleaded as he knelt before Antoine, his fleshy hands raised in Antoine’s direction as if for a prayer to a merciless God. Antoine breathed heavily. The adrenaline accelerated his pulse to immeasurable speed, but it was clear, it was all in the moment. He had figured out what to say to Vascotto when the moment had come, but now he remained silent. With anger and disgust he looked down upon the man he had come to kill. He looked around the tastefully decorated room. Mahogany, dark wood, more marble. A small, elaborately crafted sculptu
re of Julius Caesar on an also marble pedestal. Just the right size. Red on white - a wonderful contrast. *** “Look in there, Toni!” Tighter than necessary, Antoine slammed the chest the size of a shoe box that he had pulled out of his backpack onto Toni Da Silva’s torso. Toni’s hands moved hesitantly towards it. “Come on, open up!” Toni did it and then lifted the box so that he could see the contents. Antoine, of course, knew what Toni would see. Vascotto’s facial skin. He had cut it off his skull just as he had done at Toni’s behest with the narcotics cop to impress Vascotto. Antoine had draped it over the small marble sculpture to create a maximum dramatic effect. “Never send me away again, do you hear me, Toni? I don’t care if you love me or not. I love you. I do. You’re my Caesar. My sovereign. My emperor. But be aware of what happened to Caesar when he got weak. Always be aware of this, my love. Today I saved your life. Today. You’ve been trapped in your own mind long enough now. It’s time to face the world of sheep, don’t you think? The police and the reporters are waiting, and when they’re done with you, the Holy Father wants to see you. Get a hold of yourself!” Sometimes the dog has to lead the master, Antoine thought and left Toni alone.