by John Fajo
****
“...our situation is aggravating,” the baron cried out loudly, while getting hit by some gravel-sized rocks on the head. The cave was collapsing on the Group of Five. “Do something,” the baron whined and looked like a sphere with five extensions as he tried to outmanoeuvre the falling rocks. The baron danced a long forgotten dance of cavemen around the round table. The other members of the Group of Five assembled and were jammed below the table. Unfortunately, for the baron there wasn’t enough room left for him.
“I know that you want my demise,” he said, his voice full of fear. “Which one of you sent that inspector? I want to know.” The baron raged like a child. “I want to know!”
The others didn’t answer. The rocks kept falling.
“I’ve lost,” the baron uttered and sat down looking beaten as much as one could. “The inspector has the contracts proving our involvement in the construction of some of the faulty skyscrapers.”
“I’ve told you that we shouldn’t have overruled the safety standards,” the secretary of operations said. “But you wouldn’t listen.”
“Shut up! You little creep. You would still be in the slums if I had not helped you out,” the baron said angrily. Then he added: “Silence, let me think.”
Bigger and bigger rocks were falling and the whole cave was crumbling. The hideout could disintegrate at any moment. Yet the baron simply sat there motionless. There was nowhere he could go.
Then suddenly the baron smiled and told the secretary of operations: “Get out, you creep!” And with this said the baron dragged the secretary from below the table and rolled in his place and knocked the lawyer out in the open as well. Just a second later, the cave collapsed, and only those under the table survived.
****
The inspector watched television. He watched the news. His mission had floundered. He knew that he was tackling the baron in the wrong way. He closed his eyes and listened to the news for the tenth time.
“...two people were arrested this morning in relation to the collapse of the ... skyscraper. The police have not yet named these individuals. They face the life sentence if found guilty. In the meantime the investigation continues. The police requests...”
The inspector turned off the television. He looked at the letter he had received a short time ago. He browsed through it once again. It was an invitation. From the baron.
****
“...I very much regret what happened to our poor fellow members,” the baron told the general and the businessman. “But it was inevitable. The strong survive, the weak perish.”
There was great commotion in the hideout; countless workers were renovating the cave. The rubble was cleared, the table restored to its original shape. The fountain once again rushed to the surface. The baron seemed blessed.
“Look,” he said and pointed around the cave. “It will be better than ever. And only the three of us have to share it from now on.” Then seeing the frightened countenance of the businessman the baron said: “Don’t you worry. The purge is over. The traitors paid dearly.”
The baron sat down by the table. “Come, join me...”
****
The inspector looked out of the train’s window. He had a compartment all for himself; he travelled in luxury. He could thank the baron for all this. The very man he was to visit. As he leaned back in the seat, he wondered whether the baron lived in a mansion of some sort or perhaps in a castle. He thought it must have been something elegant and sophisticated fit for a king with at least a dozen servants attending on the baron. Maybe it was only used on weekends, he pondered.
Then suddenly he jumped up. He was furious and kicked the seat in rage. He was angry with himself. He had lost, and the best he could think of was where and how the baron lived, he thought. Had the baron been there the inspector would have certainly torn him to pieces in that instant, instead, he disassembled the seat. The inspector was still kicking the remains when a conductor entered his compartment.
“The next station is your stop,” said the conductor, and shrank back immediately when seeing the ravages.
The inspector pulled himself together, arranged his clothes. Then he said dignified: “Here,” and handed the conductor a large sum of money, “the baron pays for everything.” He smiled. The conductor took the money and looked at him suspecting some mental illness was responsible for such irrational behaviour. The inspector nodded, and left the compartment. He could see the conductor watching him as he disembarked the train.
As the train rolled away, he looked around. He was an hour’s drive from the city centre at a small, but tidy railway station. There was no one waiting for him. According to the letter there was supposed to be someone guiding him from here on. He waited some time, and then as nothing happened walked out of the station. Not a soul was around anywhere. He stopped in the parking lot and thought that the baron was pulling his leg, showing him how much he was in control. He stared at the ground with his hands in his pockets.
He didn’t know how much time passed. Then suddenly a car stopped in front of him. He didn’t have time to take his eyes off the ground for someone pushed him on the back seat. He was abducted again.
The car started to accelerate.
“It seems we always meet at a station,” said the cabdriver. He recognised the voice immediately. He sat up. The hideous character smiled at him in a way that made him shudder.
“Which meadow will it be now?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” answered the cabdriver. “We are only taking you to a certain person. But don’t ask me who, because I don’t have the faintest idea.”
“Besides we wouldn’t tell him anyway, would we?” The hideous character put his hands on his shoulder.
The cabdriver said when looking in the rear-view mirror: “No violence, remember?”
“Right,” moaned the hideous character.
“Never mind him,” the inspector told the cabdriver and with a sudden jerk hit the hideous character on the jaw. The latter person fell forward unconsciously.
“That wasn’t nice,” the cabdriver said.
“I know,” he remarked. “Life is often harsh.”
He looked out of the window. They were crossing a little village with brick houses and large gardens. Spreading trees surrounded the road. Children bicycled here and there; there was little traffic. Everything was calm and seemed very cosy. This village certainly represented a different lifestyle than the city, he thought. One could see the sky; hear the chirping of birds.
“Is it far off?” he asked the cabdriver.
“No, we’ll be there in a moment.”
The baron couldn’t possibly be living in a castle here, he thought. But that he, ruler of minds and souls could be living in an ordinary brick house seemed to the inspector perplexing at least.
“Here we are,” the cabdriver told him and pointed at an ordinary brick house, “that’s the house you are supposed to visit.”
“That’s where the baron lives?” the inspector asked in amazement.
“The baron?!” the cabdriver sounded surprised, then said with despise: “You’re not that important. Besides the baron must live in a castle or the sort.”
The inspector nodded and got out. He went around the car and told the cabdriver: “convey my greetings to him.” The inspector pointed towards the unconscious hideous character.
“I will,” said the cabdriver and drove away.
He stopped for a second before advancing to his destination. He looked around, but saw no one. He investigated whether there were hidden baron servants behind the bushes, in the tree crowns or perhaps in the sewer. He found no one.
He went to the entrance of the house and rang the doorbell. In a short while, the door opened.
“I was enjoying the show you provided through the window,” said the baron. “It’s a shame that it’s over.”
“Show? What show?” the inspector babbled.
“Now really. I can assure you there aren’t any of
my men here. Especially not in that rose-bush.” Then baron looked at a bush he had painstakingly searched.
“Aren’t you afraid of me?” the inspector inquired.
The baron simply smiled and said: “Come in.”
He entered the ordinary house. He thought the inside was even more middle-classed. “Well, this doesn’t a bit resemble a castle I imagined to be your style,” the inspector muttered, after having sat down.
“I am a simple man,” the baron told him. “A son of the masses. How would I look like in a castle? I prefer beer to wine. Besides, no one believes that the baron lives in such an average way. It’s safer. I can go out in the yard and relax at night.”
“I don’t understand,” the inspector said. “If you are satisfied living an ordinary lifestyle why do you hold on to power so vehemently?”
“Haven’t you heard the saying that power corrupts?”
“So you feel corrupted?” the inspector asked.
“No. I simply won’t give up the privileges I have worked for so hard, because some maniac comes along, and thinks he can do it better, without actually proving that he can, indeed, do it better.”
“You are referring to me, are you not?”
“That’s right,” the baron said. “You attacked me when I approached you as a friend. When I offered you a part of power.”
“Maybe I didn’t want any part of your kind of power,” the inspector shouted.
“Nonsense,” the baron said. “You didn’t want a part of power. You wanted it all for yourself just as I do. We aren’t as different as you wish to think. We are very much alike.”
“I disagree.”
“You are the mirror image of me as a young man. I was exactly like you. Ambitious and idealistic, and extremely stubborn. I believed I was right and everyone else wasn’t. I worked my way up meticulously and with tremendous effort. That way was filled with hitches. And now that I finally made it to the very top, I will hold on to power.”
“For how long? Until the next skyscraper you have built comes tumbling down?” the inspector asked. “Because sooner or later they will collapse. One after the other.”
“I think they will outlast my lifetime,” the baron said. Before he could reply, the baron left the tiny living room, then to emerge with peanuts, chips and beer on a tray. “Have some.”
“No, thank you. I hope you don’t think you can bribe me with those.”
“Bribe you? What a silly thought. I don’t bribe people. I buy them. But there is no reason why I should want to acquire you. You represent no more threat to me.”
“Really?”
“Of course. Did you believe that you could upset the order of the day alone? At first I was convinced that your secret Commission existed, but then my agents presented your biography which clearly indicated that you have always been a no one.”
“That is very flattering,” said the inspector, his cheeks starting to get ruby.
“Anyway, your appearance and manipulations presented me with a perfect pretext to get rid of the secretary of operations and the lawyer. They took the blame for the accident. They were too strong and an increasing annoyance. They even dared to challenge me lately.”
“So you disposed of them. Brilliant,” said the inspector. “I have to give it to you; you are an awfully good dictator.”
“Dictator? I don’t like that word. I’m the mildest and most enlightened organizer of all times. Under my rule living standards increased. People never lived as well as now.”
“But you are still a dictator. Mild or not, it doesn’t matter. There is only one right. Your right. You don’t tolerate differing views. You repress anyone who thinks differently than you.”
The baron stared at the inspector for a while. Then he said: “You still haven’t learned, have you? You’re a great democrat! The spokesman of the masses. But I know you more than you do yourself. You do not tolerate my views and you do not care about the masses a bit. Let me challenge you. If you can manage better than me I will disappear from the scene.”
“All right,” the inspector said. “It’s a deal.”
They shook hands.
Afterwards the baron spoke of his favourite sport team. The inspector listened in hope of understanding what made the baron the strong man of the day. But he saw only an ordinary man telling him of ordinary things. A fat man. He thought that was a sign of complacency, laziness and weakness. He certainly wasn’t impressed. He thought he could easily outmatch the baron.
Later the baron invited the inspector for a meal. The inspector accepted the offer; he was getting hungry. They went to the diner together, where he met the baron’s wife. The inspector felt sorry for the baron for a moment, but he couldn’t hide a joyful expression from emerging on his face.
The baron noticed this and whispered to him: “She was Miss Universe once, you know.”
The inspector laughed and asked loudly: “In which Universe was that?” The baron’s wife, ugly as she was, didn’t comprehend what the discussion was about. Besides, she was used to being told what to do. She was an obedient creature.
The baron and the inspector sat down by the dining table. Soon the housewife served the meal, which was in a big cauldron. It was some sort of a stew as far as he could tell.
“It’s my favourite,” the baron told him, and ladled out a portion for both of them. The inspector looked at the stew and his stomach turned upside down. He forced a couple of bites into himself. Instead, he broached a topic when the baron’s wife left them.
“Your wife doesn’t know who you really are, does she?”
“No. She believes that I’m a broke businessman, who now works as a truckdriver.”
“That’s interesting.”
“Not really. I am often away for there are always problems to be solved.” The baron finished his third portion. “Since I’m ostensibly a truckdriver I can be away without her suspecting anything.” The baron tucked his bread into the stew. The inspector felt nausea. “Finish up your food,” he was told. “You’re skinny.”
He didn’t agree. He didn’t think that he was skinny. He believed he was strong. Strong enough to deal with the baron.
Chapter 2: The scientist
“The baron truly believes that with money he can solve everything. Buy everyone. You see, he is convinced that no one is irreplaceable. He thinks he can treat people as statistical figures, as some sort of wares. Ship them here and there, manipulate them. And when he’s done with someone, the person ends up beneath ten feet of earth. But I can tell you he’s wrong. There are people who are simply not replaceable. People who can influence our world through their work, personality or whatever. If they are gone, centuries may pass before someone of similar calibre shows up. That is why I need you. You are a unique person. You are capable of expressing your feelings like no one can. You are impulsive. That is something I completely lack. What do you say?” the scientist extended his hand towards Nameless Andrew.
“All right,” he answered, and shook hands with the scientist. “Although I find it hard to see in what way I may be of use to you. But whatever. I’m interested in your work and I must say your flattery took me off my feet.”
“Good,” said the scientist. “Then come, I’ll show you the island.”
He nodded and looked intently at the scientist. He didn’t think too much of him. The scientist wore thick glasses, had a pale and sickly face, the eyes showing marks of prolonged reading. The forehead was wrinkled, and he was somewhat balding. The scientist hid his meagre body behind a white protecting cloak, the upper pockets filled with pens and calculating devices. The only thing that he found interesting in the physical appearance of his new employer was his eyes. They had a silvery tint, shining as light reflected on them at certain angles.
He followed the scientist. They went through laboratories of many kinds in an underground complex. They were mostly deserted, only a few people were around. They didn’t look up from what they were doing as they passed by, just utt
ered a word of greeting towards the scientist.
“This is what I call being preoccupied,” he said.
“Yes, as you see they are working. Nothing can be worse for a scientist than to lose his line of thoughts. I therefore beg you not to disturb them.”
“I thought there were more nuts working at such places,” he said as they walked through a great hall fully furnished with measuring instruments, but completely empty of humans.
“So that is what you think of us? Nuts?!”
“Yes,” he said plaintively.
“At least you are honest. That’s why I hired you. Perhaps you are right. Anyway, there aren’t many people who undertake a job as ours. It means sleepless nights, frustration and endless battles in order to have your results accepted. And the baron uses all the means he has to discredit and ridicule you in the meantime. No wonder then that not too many embark on such a mission as ours. This is the reason you saw only a handful of the most daring who follow their dreams.”
“Who is the baron?” he inquired.
“Haven’t you heard of him before?” the scientist asked astonished.
“No,” he said.
“Have we been living on the same planet?”
“I don’t know about you, but I have been living on this one.”
The scientist looked with sharp eyes at him, his silvery eyes piercing through his body. They stopped for a moment and then continued their walk. He thought the scientist saw into his mind, unravelled his thoughts. The scientist coughed now and then.
Finally, they emerged at the surface, after having ascended from the underground complex. As he stepped out from the elevator, he saw a heart-warming park with huge trees and flowers. It was a magnificent sight, very different from the grey and depressing laboratories. The grass was fresh and green, the flowers colourful. A group of squirrels fled and hid in the tree crowns as they saw them appearing from a hollow tree-trunk, which hid the elevator. Something mooed in the distance.
