by John Fajo
“What should I do?” the scientist asked for the tenth time.
Nameless Andrew smiled mischievously. He thought about saying something insulting, but then didn’t. He was comfortably seated in a chair, had a nice view of the sand dunes of the island and the glimmering lagoon. Branches protruded above him shading him from the sun. He enjoyed things as they were, and had no intention to get involved in a prolonged argument with the scientist over an issue of no interest to him. The world was far, only the billowing sounds of the ocean could be heard and the chirping of the strange seabirds that flew against the wind.
As he sat there, sipping lemonade, he wondered about the reason the scientist wasn’t satisfied with things as they were. It seemed he always wanted something unattainable; it seemed to be inherent in his character. It kept him going. But he was never happy. Listless was the best state of mind Nameless Andrew had seen him in, and the most frequent. This gave him a supernatural character, only occasionally disrupted by his mood swings. At least when raging he seemed almost normal, Nameless Andrew thought. The perfect machine was abnormal. This was the reason for the almost. Nameless Andrew had been furious at times as well, especially in his youth. But there had been no red buttons to be punched. No perfect machine behind him. The scientist was dangerous in hindsight of his capabilities, which he had never actually used. The power he held over others, power he had claimed to disregard. Of course, others were unaware of him and his resources, so he wasn’t powerful in terms of the populist baron. Still he could shape the future. He could decide if there was to be any future.
Nameless Andrew let his fingers run through the dark green grass. It gave him a pleasant feeling; the smell of nature was emotionally tranquillising. What a difference compared to the cold realities of the perfect machine and the mathematical models, he thought. But then he suddenly discovered some flaw in his reasoning. The island he so much enjoyed relaxing on was itself artificial, something the scientist had created from sand and dust. He had done so with the help of uninteresting algorithms, yet the result was very different from the origins. Perhaps it was only the scientist who couldn’t enjoy the benefits of his own achievements, but Nameless Andrew could. Maybe the perfect machine was also something interesting and sensual, not something distancing mankind from nature, but doing quite the opposite. Nameless Andrew felt eager to find out. Perchance he could perceive and experience things he never could before without excluding anything he was able to feel previously. Perhaps there were more alternatives. Nameless Andrew thought, being a man of instincts and impulsiveness that once alive the best thing one could do was to see and experience as much as one could, thereby getting the most out of it. But could he become a part of the machine? It seemed very doubtful considering his unfortunate role in recent events. The machine was displeased with him, this he could gather from the scientist’s nagging, which didn’t want to end.
****
They were approaching the ship steadily. It was a big luxury yacht anchored in international waters near shallows. It was here, on neutral ground the new baron and the scientist were to meet. It was here Nameless Andrew’s fate was to be decided. He had been charged with mass murders, all the killed people of the metropolis of the past two decades whose cases had been unsolved now suddenly were given an assassin, to the joy of their relatives and satisfaction of the police department. Nameless Andrew proved to be the greatest and most brutal of murderers of all times. His crimes also included rape, dealing in illegal commodities like drugs and firearms, and not the least destruction of public peace and welfare. The latter seemed rather vaguely defined, but in any case even without it Nameless Andrew had more than enough to imprison him for longer than all the scientist’s lifeforms could live combined. He was the perfect scapegoat once again. He was cursed, while the true assassin(s) could relax and enjoy the untold benefits of murder. Would the scientist trade him for a better deal, he asked himself. Or for any compromise for that matter?
The catamaran easily navigated by the side of the ship and attached to it. They ascended to the stern, where a big swimming pool was located with dozens of slack, wealthy citizens surrounding it. Among them were guards waiting for them. They were escorted into a conference hall and were met by familiar faces. The former vice, now baron was comfortably seated in an easy chair at least three times of the size of the two other chairs. To his left, the general ordered some notes; to his right, the businessman chatted with a waiter holding a glass full of whisky in one hand. The room was extravagant, famous and invaluable paintings decorating the walls, the carpet hand woven, the round table made of centuries old oak covered with ivory. The new baron obviously didn’t constrain himself in any way, he lived life according to a baron. Nameless Andrew thought he was the squanderer heir who would quickly consume the wealth and credit of his post.
“Here we are,” the scientist said.
The baron didn’t care to answer, he simply looked at his watch.
“You are two minutes late,” the general exclaimed in a sonorous and lofty manner.
“Hardly our fault,” the scientist rejoined not wanting to discuss their delay any further.
“This is the precision you’re so famous for?” the baron twisted his lip and flipped a coin, clearly trying his best to annoy and offend the scientist. “You beg me to meet you, and then you fail to show up in time.”
The scientist was annoyed all right. He looked around, but it was obvious there were no chairs meant to be there for them. He leaned with two arms onto the table. “Let’s leave the crap. We have a deal to negotiate.”
The baron smiled mischievously. “Really? Now is that so?” He glanced at his two aids by his side, his eyes suggesting an “I’ll show them who’s the boss,” attitude. Then he sighed, shook his head displeased and said: “As far as I can remember you’re helping,” he pointed at Nameless Andrew, “a dangerous criminal, who is believed to be responsible for the deaths of dozens of decent and innocent citizens. You are thereby committing a crime yourself. Of course, I am sure, if you hand him over to the authorities they will turn a blind eye to your cooperation with this individual.” The baron’s voice was getting more and more phlegmatic and aristocratic.
Nameless Andrew wondered how long the scientist would allow this to continue. He glanced at him and to his surprise saw him listless. Then he tried to get in eye contact with the general. It would have been better if he didn’t, the hate and despise she felt for him made her shiver, one shockwave passed after the other in her body. He thought if she had a spoonful of water, she would have drowned him in it.
“All right,” the scientist said. “What kinds of assurances can you give that he’s going to get a fare trial if I extradite him?”
“Baah,” the baron uttered. “My word of honour.”
Nameless Andrew laughed, the scientist shook his head. “I’m afraid that’s not good enough.”
The baron suddenly seemed angered. “That’s not good enough, is it? What am I then? A liar?” He stood up.
The scientist simply nodded. “You are a liar,” he answered.
The baron stared at the scientist motionless and silent for a while. Then he again became a spoiled aristocrat, he leaned back to his chair and demonstratively looked away, ostensibly at an old vase worthy enough to pay for the boat they were rocking in.
After some time the baron asked slightingly: “So, what the fuck have you come here for then?”
“I came here to negotiate a possible extradition. Furthermore to discuss and ascertain the fulfilment of the compromise, which the deceased baron has started.”
“The who?” the baron inquired. “What deceased baron are you talking about?”
“Don’t give me that shit,” the scientist said furiously.
“Excuse me,” the baron rejoined. “Have you heard of any deceased baron?” he asked from the businessman and the general. Their answer was a clear indication of a new phase in the relationship of the two sides.
“No,” they
exclaimed.
“And there was no compromise either, was there?”
“Not that we know of,” the baron said. “Not that we know of.”
“Good day then,” the scientist said, and they left, leaving a victorious smile on the new baron’s countenance, whom the general made sure was not left without womanly love.
****
“They have cheated me. I knew it. That little worm. It was written all over him from the beginning. They simply denied that a compromise has ever existed. Just my luck,” the scientist said. “I was hoping the baron, that is the murdered one, could hold out until the compromise has been put to work, which would have eliminated possibilities such as the one we encountered. But the vice killed him. There can be no doubt about that. It was in his interest to do so. The little spoiled brat.”
They were walking along a hallway inside the underground complex. Nameless Andrew had no idea where they were going, but the scientist had insisted upon having his company. He was reluctant to follow his employer; he feared there was some unpleasant surprise awaiting him at the end of their journey.
“He will obviously,” the scientist continued his monologue, “not negotiate anything. Of course, the death of our poor baron could have been averted were you good enough to tell me about developments. I have trusted you. And you have betrayed me. You, of all people.”
“I didn’t betray you,” Nameless Andrew disagreed.
“There are many forms of betrayal,” the scientist said.
“Depending on the model one uses.”
“Don’t try to get scientific with me,” the scientist was losing his temper.
So was Nameless Andrew. “You cannot possibly blame me for what has happened. Use the machine. I can’t see your problem.”
“You are my problem. A problem I’m about to solve. You see, you’re leaving me.”
“Fine with me,” Nameless Andrew said. “I was going anyway. I had enough of your bullshit.”
“To the Green Planet. You’re going to the Green Planet. For a long, long time.”
They arrived in a big hall at the midst of which a spaceship could be seen. Nameless Andrew was puzzled for a moment. What was the purpose of travelling to the Green Planet? Then a sudden realization shook him, and he said agitated: “You can’t make me go there.”
The scientist smiled viciously.
“Can’t I? Of course I can. You’ll go. And that’s that. Your punishment for not thinking before acting. It’s still better than rotting in a prison or getting executed. This way I can also work in peace. Your influence had done me great harm, but now I shall be free of you.”
Nameless Andrew looked at the scientist and mused. He was almost as big as him. Almost. Nameless Andrew was still stronger, and he thought it was time he returned the blow he received earlier. He certainly was determined not to bow to pressure and undertake the trip devised for him under any circumstances. It was a lunatic idea, only possible to have come from the scientist. He glanced at the spacecraft; it was a shiny piece of terror. When he turned back to the scientist, he noticed he wasn’t alone. There were two ugly creatures standing beside him, twice as tall as him, and they were looking intensely at Nameless Andrew. He realized they must have been two other lifeforms he existed in.
“So what do you say now? I see you’re speechless,” the scientist said victoriously. Nameless Andrew attempted an escape. He ran to the entrance of the hall, but as he arrived there it suddenly sealed, no signs left that there had ever been a door there. He was trapped inside.
“Stop acting so ridiculously.” The scientist laughed watching Nameless Andrew’s actions with the greatest of amusement, especially since they ended in failure. He was powerful and mighty. “It’s futile to resist, you should have realized it by now. You are going. Either by your own will or so,” the scientist looked at himself, “by force. You decide.”
Nameless Andrew stopped tracing the wall for a way out, he knew there wasn’t any. The scientist had always been a thorough person, not leaving anything to chance. “I guess... I have no other choice. But before I would embark upon this crazy mission, my exile, tell me what you will do about the baron.” Nameless Andrew hoped in the occurrence of some miracle, or at least in delaying his imminent departure.
The scientist shook his shoulders. “I’ll think of something. But I doubt that concerns you. You will be a safe distance away. And when there, do send me a postcard.” The scientist giggled sarcastically. “Don’t get any strange ideas into your head,” he was reading his thoughts once again, “you have but one alternative now. It won’t be too bad, you will have almost an eternity to think. You will be forced to think. And you must agree, that’s something very positive. Besides, you can see a world entirely different from ours. You will see something even I haven’t.”
Nameless Andrew bowed in gratitude for getting such an opportunity. Then he charged. But he couldn’t reach the scientist, the two ugly creatures were quicker than he had believed, and they embraced him. He was in a living vice and all his struggling to break out was in vain.
The scientist shook his head. “Why fight?”
“Why not?” Nameless Andrew asked. “At least I fight. You... you just lie down and let everyone tread on you. And when that naturally annoys you, you take out your anger on me. Why don’t you simply punch that damn button? Then at least for once you will feel something, the excitement of revenge. That’s the closest you’ll ever come to sexual excitement anyway.”
The scientist was angered; Nameless Andrew was deliberately hitting him on his weakest spot.
“Your great visions! What good did they do you?” Nameless Andrew continued. “All these great visions are responsible for the building of greater and greater skyscrapers, covering everything with concrete. I’m sick of your visions, and so are you. They brought you nothing but misery. So go, and punch the red button. Get it over with. This world deserves it. Evolution, remember?! A society unable to distinguish between quality and inferiority must not survive.”
“Enough,” the scientist shouted, his eyes reddened.
Nameless Andrew kicked into the air as he was dragged to the spaceship by the machine, where they forced him inside. He didn’t have a chance against them. Then the doors closed, and his trip commenced.
Chapter 3: In deserted nowhere
Nameless Andrew peered out of the spacecraft; he could still see the island in the distance. He was surprisingly calm, having disbelief in his own destiny and destination. That he was heading to some remote corner of the Universe seemed fascinatingly odd, the events were unfolding too swiftly for him to fully comprehend his awkward situation. The spaceship started to ascend steeply and picked up speed; he was squeezed to his chair and could hardly breathe. The island disappeared from his view, and moments later, he was around orbit in space. Here the acceleration ceased for a while, at least that was what he thought and felt. He couldn’t actually be sure, because there was no instrument panel or anything in his compartment, solely the chair he sat in and a space barely enough for him to stretch out his limbs.
At present, the continents and wonders of the Earth he was circling occupied him. He had dreamed about being up there, he had a romantic lust for the stars shining in the night sky implanted in him by his childhood movies and comics. Fantasies of discovering strange and sometimes dangerous things and creatures populating emptiness. He remembered what the scientist had thought romanticism meant and of its results once discovered to be wrong. He hoped he could survive a trip that had an unknown duration, keeping his sanity, although he realized he was in no way prepared. But he thought as long as he stayed in orbit there was still a possibility the scientist would change his mind and change his course.
Continents passed beneath him, night and day altered. He kept track of time by observing the change of daytime on the continents. It was astonishing for him to learn that the short time he had already spent in orbit according to indications from the planet’s surface felt as an eternity.
It was frightening, discomforting and demoralizing. What would happen out in deep space, he asked himself. The silence was deafening. But the silence around him was also exciting in as much as exasperating. He was experiencing something new, something he hadn’t seen or sensed before. Not feeling anything was interesting in itself, he certainly couldn’t feel the weight of his body or smell anything. He could only see, and vision gave him an observer status where seemingly there was nothing to observe. From his orbit, a great distance away from the surface none of life’s daily changes were apparent, only the frozen crust of the planet, which transformed little over the ages. He was looking at a repetitive motion picture in slow motion, getting a bare moment’s insight into the planet’s existence. At the same time, he thought of the contrast between the planet’s existence and his, his was short and uncertain while the planet’s was a repetitive slow motion picture never changing. Of course, it was all a matter of perspectives, he thought, his lifespan was too short to observe alterations taking place on the planet.
He knocked on the chair with his fingers to break the silence, but the sound made was strange and disturbing. He tried to hum a melody and heard the same noise; he whistled and observed the same monotonous beating. Whatever he did, the result was exactly the same sound. He thought the scientist had been very careful and meticulous in devising his punishment. He abandoned his attempts at stimulating his ears; silence was a better alternative than the monotonous beating.
He once again peered at the planet searching for the approximate location of the island. It was too small to be seen out in the open sea, but it was down there somewhere. He wondered what the scientist was up to now that the compromise clearly was shattered. Was there to be a war or another pullback, victory or another defeat? The scientist was capable of both, his only real enemy being himself. Himselves, Nameless Andrew corrected himself.
****
He awoke after dozing for a while, losing completely track of time. He was still in orbit though, moving with the same velocity and at the same height as far as he could tell. The permanence was permanent, nothing had changed since he fell asleep, the slow motion picture continued rolling, showing the same pictures repeatedly. Nameless Andrew yawned, he wished he were able to drowse through his whole exile, turn himself off at will. But this wasn’t so, he very much stayed conscious. He needed something to occupy his mind with, something to divert his attention from the maddening repetition down below. He closed his eyes and searched for a thread of thought capable of supplying him with material for a long time to come. The finding of such proved to be like striking a needle in a haystack. But he had no other choice, he had to keep trying. Of course, the haystack contained many hays resembling the needle searched for; they were sharp and unwise to touch. He thought of the general, the luscious nymph of his dreams, but then suddenly instead saw the sect leader covered with blood and so had to abandon any threads involving her. In fact, any events or persons he had met or encountered since having been employed by the scientist led to a dead end. They were unusable, because although they occupied him they also reminded him eventually of his situation and consequently made him angered and desperate. He had to avoid mood swings; he was entirely on his own now. Although he had always felt lonely and could only rely on himself in the past, it had been different from the present solitude. Before he had had hope and belief that in case anything had happened to him someone would lend him a helping hand, but now there wasn’t even a someone who wouldn’t have lent him a helping hand anyway. Space was a grasp away, space containing nothing. He had to think of something exhilarating, amusing and soothing. It was best to start as early as possible.
