by John Fajo
At this stage something utterly unexpected happened. The scientist pulled Nameless Andrew backwards and then punched him on the chin. Merely a moment later, he landed on the floor, his nose bleeding. Nameless Andrew could have averted the blow undoubtedly, but it was so sudden and an action so unlike the scientist that he simply couldn’t believe it. He lay on the floor in a pool of blood with a somewhat shaken mind.
****
The compromise was signed despite Nameless Andrew’s attempt to stop it. He, for his part, was recuperating from the punch he had received for quite some time, resting in bed and musing about his life. Even now, he had dreams of the general now and then, although he thought the resemblance was only physical between dream and reality. For his reality was very murky. He was out of touch with the rest of the world; the island was a sanctuary and a prison as well. He felt like a foreigner everywhere for he belonged nowhere. His roots had been cut off including the ones he tried to strike in the meantime. He was a tuber, which had stopped short of becoming a real plant. He blamed himself for everything that had or hadn’t occurred to him, and spent his time glaring at the rigid walls as if he was sentenced.
But eventually he got tired of resting and thus wandered off in the labyrinth once again. And as usual he got lost, he couldn’t find his way back despite drawing a sketch of the path he had taken, the hallways seemed to have changed location relative to each other. Yet, he could perceive no signs of movement, there was no noise or trembling or a sixth sense feeling. There was, indeed, a room where his was supposed to be, but it certainly wasn’t his. It was much bigger, and the walls were covered by posters of all sizes. He was amazed, and wondered why he hadn’t stumbled upon this room before. Then he concluded the answer to be obvious, it was definitely not a room the scientist would have wished to be discovered by anyone. Perhaps his employer thought he was resting, and allowed himself some carelessness.
Nameless Andrew walked around, looked at the posters of loosely dressed and naked women, and then noticed a glass-fronted cabinet containing dozens of magazines and other articles of unknown nature. He was interested, his melancholy suddenly disappeared. He went to the glass-fronted cabinet and took out a magazine from the middle. He browsed for a while and was disgusted by the violence and perversity of the pictures he was looking at. He had never seen anything like them before, and he had certainly never thought he would find such things on the island. He put down the magazine and examined the countless gadgets scattered around, which proved to be stimulators of different kinds. From a mechanical point of view, they were brilliant constructions, finely worked out to the smallest detail, and no doubt each one of a kind, not mass products. On the other hand, they were disturbing in that they indicated a sick mind, which Nameless Andrew happened to know was also a great mind. He turned on some of the devices and listened to their gargling, while he sat down. He was quite unaware of the time that passed; he dozed.
Then unexpectedly: “What...? is going on...?” he heard the scientist exclaim and jumped to his feet at once.
“It’s only me,” he said awkwardly.
The scientist glimpsed at him surprised and embarrassed. In fact, they were both embarrassed.
“Well,” the scientist rejoined, “here you have it. You found out what an abhorrent person I am. But before you make any prejudgements you should know about the reason for this place. Yes, everything in this labyrinth has a reason. Where should I start?”
The scientist thought for a while.
“I told you once of the importance of continuous work in science, the need for generating interest at times. It is also important not to allow any emotions to pervade one’s work or anything that can distract one’s attention. Otherwise all the work to be done will never really get done. I have, as any other member of our species, certain needs despite the fact that now I am also part of the perfect machine, that I am the perfect machine. Yes, this lifeform in front of you needs sleep, nourishment and tender love. Unfortunately, I could never enjoy the latter, but the desire still lingers. At times, I lose concentration, I simply cannot hold my time schedule, it affects me so much. Then I come here. This room is a necessity. It satisfies my needs... My sexual needs. I have never done it with a...,” the scientist pursed up his lips and bent his head, “a real woman. I have always failed. Perhaps it was my fault. I haven’t been the blond fairy tail prince and yet I have aimed at the most inaccessible women, and naturally got nowhere. Not that the others would have preferred me, of course. Besides, my relationship with women has always been ambiguous, I wasn’t sure I wanted to get involved, I could never open up. That was one of the reasons why I hired you. I thought I could learn it from you. Just like learning how to ride a bicycle. Or rather to revive it. It wasn’t always like this. When I was young, I was like you. Wild and instinctive. Aggressive. I had many friends, they seemed to like this vitality. But then I became too civilized, full of inhibitions and certainly my physical appearance hasn’t helped either. I found myself left out. It was then that I became a scientist. At least numbers don’t discriminate, only we do. I tried to reconcile myself with the situation by pretending to be unaffected, as if I didn’t need a woman. I talked myself into the idea that a family would only be a hindrance to my work, which was the most important thing to me. Loneliness surely makes one think, but it hardly lets one fly. And then,” the scientist winked, “and then I started to hate women. You see, hate is one of the best driving forces, it motivates. Loneliness and hate makes one capable of flying. Possibly not in the right direction, but still... I hated them, because they rejected me, humiliated me, because it was better than hating myself. It was a point of no return, I was excluded from society and I excluded myself even further. Naturally, my ambitions and battle against the baron complicated things, and also occupied me.”
The scientist opened his arms, flapped them together, and then systematically turned off the gadgets Nameless Andrew had switched on. Thereafter he continued. “And then I saw you humiliate yourself for the general, and realized it wasn’t something I could do. I will never genuflect for anything or anyone. I will not beg for my life, and I will definitely not court like an oversexed gorilla in the woods. It’s so primitive. It has always been so primitive. I wanted change; I wanted to change this and many other things.”
“But courting is a requirement in a certain way. One has to prove oneself,” Nameless Andrew said.
“That is... no doubt correct. But the manner in which it is done is the problem. It is a matter of the romantic model.”
“The what?”
“It is something women seep in, learn in childhood. The fairy tail. The blond prince who saves them and rides off with them to wonderland. The fall in love at first sight concept. This latter is something I completely discard as nonsense. And the make him suffer aspect. And when a boy comes to you, dear, don’t give yourself easily, play with him, humiliate him. If he does crazy things for you then and only then can you be sure of his true affection. Say no even if you want to say yes, and if you happen to be pretty use the idiots, make them do things for you, and when they would finally think they have made it, say no. Fun and games.”
The scientist was sarcastic and angry. He squashed some devices, folded a magazine and tore it to pieces. Then suddenly he was calm and listless. “The romantic model dangerously oversimplifies the world; it creates a euphoria which can be swept away in a bare moment leaving nothing. It is also a model, along with models on which most religions are based on that was created a long, long time ago, and not at all applied or tested by their creators. A paper model. Seemingly, it works brilliantly, but when you put it to the test, it proves completely inadequate. There are no fairy tail princes, who never age and never have a bad day nor are there houses made of honey and chocolate. A romantic person perceives everything rosy. The problem lies in the eventual discovery that not all things are rosy. One has to work on a relationship continuously. It is all about making compromises. I remember a comedy series I on
ce liked about people who always fell out of love because of trivial things, like how the other kisses, laughs, walks, wears a shirt or the sort. In the meantime, they grow old. Then the model comes tumbling down, and it usually ends with suicide.”
The scientist sighed and unwrapped himself of his white cloak, he was, indeed, as musculous as Nameless Andrew. He threw the protective clothing on a chair and folded his hands. “As I mentioned I had believed my looks were the main cause of my failures with women. The damned glasses, the meagre body. But now I have to conclude that I thought wrong. I got rid of the spectacles, my once slim body is strong, and yet I never succeed.”
“So you have tried since... changing?” Nameless Andrew was surprised.
“Oh, yes. I stole into the city at night, went from bar to bar in search. I put up my best faces, showed off my almost perfect body and...,” the scientist strangely couldn’t find the right word, “they still said no to me. What do you think, was this because I actually impersonated someone who wasn’t really me?”
“I don’t know,” Nameless Andrew said. “I haven’t the faintest idea who you are. Or for that matter who I am. You are a versatile man, this room clearly indicates it. Perhaps the man you felt you were impersonating was you after all. I gather your problem is to be found somewhere else.”
“Where?” the scientist looked eagerly at him demanding an answer.
“Have you ever been nice to people other than whom you were interested in?”
“I wanted an answer, not a question,” the scientist said morosely, and then seemed to think for a while. Then he exclaimed loudly: “Why should I have been? It’s a waste of time. What purpose would that serve?”
“I am sure you can find a suitable model where it does serve a purpose. Besides it would solve your problems,” Nameless Andrew said. “You’re attacking the problem incorrectly and so you fail.”
“Do you really think so? Can it be that?” the scientist asked himself.
“It is like this,” Nameless Andrew explained. “You walk into somewhere; stare at best without any expression at people, and then you attempt to communicate by silly dialogues. You have to use your eyes, and smile. Smiling is the key to success. If you see an elderly, fat and bald lady you can still smile at her, she will no doubt remember you for the rest of her life. It doesn’t cost anything and you can achieve great things. You can make others happy.”
“I wonder,” the scientist said. He silenced for a second. “I don’t think I can do it.”
“Of course, you can,” Nameless Andrew rejoined. “See,” Nameless Andrew was all smiles, his eyes glittering. “Open your mouth like this and let your teeth shine. Tell yourself that they should be happy to have a man like you around.” Nameless Andrew went silent.
“That’s all?” the scientist asked.
“Absolutely. The rest should develop by itself. Let the action guide you. Don’t force things.”
“The advice you have given seems valuable, but rather vague on the application part.”
“I can’t possibly give you a fool-proof method; it all depends on the situation and atmosphere.”
“Great,” the scientist murmured.
They didn’t say a word for a while. Then the scientist broke the silence. “What happened between you and the general? You haven’t been to the city for a long time.”
“It’s over.” Nameless Andrew contemplated if he should say anything else.
“She sure was a pretty creature,” the scientist remarked.
“You were right about her. She was evil,” Nameless Andrew said in sorrow.
“Really? I was beginning to like her. She was partly the reason the baron bent.”
“No doubt. She also...” Nameless Andrew was wondering whether he should tell the scientist about the general. After all, it had been his private affair, which eventually turned into an embarrassing relationship. He wished he had never met the general, or for that matter the scientist. He had such a simple and cosy life before they popped up. The scientist might not have believed him, but laughed at him or perhaps unleashed his other lifeforms, which would have fried him alive. It might have even corroborated his earlier views of women and for all this, he, Nameless Andrew, would have been responsible. Now he, Nameless Andrew, was certainly tired of being a scapegoat.
“Also what?” the scientist asked.
“Wanted me to kill you.”
The scientist looked at him suspiciously. “Is that so? And why may I ask?”
Nameless Andrew smiled for a second. The latter question was so much like the scientist. Always why, for what purpose, to what end etc. The piercing eyes of his employer, however, froze his countenance. “Why?”
“She leads the sect of love. You are, in her belief, the arch enemy, because you hate love and everyone who loves,” he cited the general. “And now I am a traitor of course. She promised me she would kill me if I told you.”
“Hmm,” the scientist hummed. “We’ll see who’s going to be eliminated. Finally, I understand why the baron’s position deteriorated so quickly. He’s surrounded by villains. By his greatest enemies and an army of bootlickers. I pity him.”
The scientist was once again a dangerous man, his whole body sparkling in anger. He stooped over a chair turning towards the wall. Nameless Andrew squatted in one corner. “I was right about her. I was blind, she even fooled me. But no problem.” The scientist looked at him. “I will make sure she’ll have no say in the future.”
Nameless Andrew shrank back, he wanted to get out of the room and yet was curious of what the scientist was about to say. “I knew it. They are all like that. Women. You can never trust them. The little snakes. She wanted to murder me, did she?! Well, well, well. I’ll just crush them,” and with that said the scientist crushed a gadget. Then there was a period of silence.
“Not all women are like her,” Nameless Andrew uttered.
“You better not say another word,” the scientist told him. “And now get the hell out of here. You have no right to be in this room. It’s my property. Move!”
Nameless Andrew wasted no time in doing so.
****
He didn’t know what to think. The general’s plea seemed believable and sincere, but he was cheated and deluded so many times by her earlier that he was confused. Should he respond? And if he should, how? The general had asked him to meet her on the outskirts of the city, and she had sounded very frightened. He wondered whether to inform the scientist of events unfolding, but then decided not to.
The scientist was occupied by assembling data of a planet he called the Green Planet, where he thought he had found evidence of lifeforms distinct from all his lifeforms. Besides, the scientist dived into scientific research after the sex room incident, and made great progress. It looked as if he once again closed himself off from the world surrounding him. He certainly hadn’t followed Nameless Andrew’s advice, and for all this Nameless Andrew felt responsible. It was strange, because the scientist hadn’t the least blamed him in any way. It was true, however, that they barely met. Nameless Andrew still felt responsible for being frank and for telling the scientist things, which would have been better unsaid. Perhaps his employer had been right about certain questions that one should not try to answer; there was clearly a relapse or rather a vicious circle in the behaviour of the scientist. He definitely returned to his original views, there were no signs of emotion showing on him. He was listless, sombre and polite as usual. Nameless Andrew presumed there was fervour hidden inside the scientist that he feared might explosively burst into the open in a huge detonation at any moment. He thought of his employer as a tank being continuously filled with gas without any valve to let the excess out. And then eventually...
Nameless Andrew finally decided to meet the general at the given place at the given time, despite the possibility of stepping into an elaborate trap. He hoped this time his intuition was correct and the general was really in trouble. He didn’t admit it even to himself, but he was counting o
n a revival of their relationship. He missed her, her endless lectures and her coquettish chitchat. But most of all he missed her body. He could forgive her if he could just hold her tight again. And of course, if she ceased as the leader of the sect of love.
Nameless Andrew went to the harbour of the island; it was a lagoon only the catamaran could cross without foundering. There were gates connecting it with the ocean, which could be opened if required. He seated himself in the ship and navigated to sea. Then he set the coordinates and leaned back hardly noticing the rhythmical buzzing of the engines. It took somewhat longer to reach his destination with the catamaran than by plane, but the scientist preferred it nevertheless, because he could travel without actually needing to let others know of his whereabouts. He could easily bypass the light coast guard ships surrounding the metropolis and thus the baron couldn’t trace him. The harbour of the city provided many shady docks, where one could fish out a whole variety of things from the water excluding fish. Some of these wharfs were quite close to the skyscrapers of interest to the scientist, and made this transportation mode quite convenient.
However, Nameless Andrew headed in a different direction than usual; he passed under bridges painted reddish-brown by rust and deterioration. Grey warehouses mottled the way, most of them empty, with shattered windows. The outskirts were a no-man’s-land, where the opportunistic and unscrupulous could make quick bucks. Nameless Andrew looked out of the ship and felt glad he was in the safety of bulletproof windshields. He always avoided these parts before; his strength was useless in the murky alleys.
There was a shabby railway station ahead, where he was supposed to meet the general. She was waiting for him dressed in a dark cloak, standing beside a lamppost, ostensibly an old woman. A ripped hood covered her head, her hands deep in her pockets. He thought this disguise could hardly fool anyone; her figure was straight and shapely. He left the catamaran some distance from the railway station, and before actually frightening the general by embracing her from behind, investigated the surroundings. She seemed to be alone; the station was quiet, only a homeless man was sleeping soundly on one of the benches, his hands grasping a bottle.
