Einsteiner

by V. K. Fourstone

  Bikie took a swig from his cup and looked at the results of analyzing payments by dates. Every time Link came back to England, a purchase for a substantial sum was made at the tobacco shop. Bikie compared the numbers of the cards used hoping to see that it was the same customer every time, then he could assume that it was the professor’s card. But, alas, he saw that the cigars were purchased with at least two different cards. Did that mean that Link was the owner of at least one of them?

  The analysis continued and Bikie decided to break into the data bases of local tourist agencies. Even though the procedure didn’t look too promising, he launched the program for comparing cards into which he had entered the numbers that came up at the English tobacco shop. While the program was working he went to take his mind off things by seeing what Isaac was up to.

  Isaac had just come back from the gym and his hair was still wet after the shower. He was sitting on the sofa with the television on.

  “It’s time you took a stroll down to the shop and bought a couple of new t-shirts for yourself. While we’ve been living here, you’ve pumped yourself up a lot. Good for you, of course, keep at it. But your old clothes are skintight on you now; they make you look like a dance teacher.”

  Isaac snickered and reached for the remote to turn up the sound. The jingle to introduce the news played and an affable presenter announced in a brisk voice:

  “And now the latest science news! In Africa new crops developed by Collective Mind that are tolerant to heat and consume only small amounts of water are being planted. The food that is grown is already semi-dehydrated, and its volume expands several times over when liquid is added which is extremely convenient. The compressed harvest from one acre fits into a single small truck. It goes to the warehouse, from the warehouse to the shop and onto the shelf. The customer can easily carry the compact package home and then soak it in water.”

  “To deliver the amount of food that you get from one pack you would have had to hire a truck before!” an old man in a shop announced briskly from the screen, leaning down to the journalist’s microphone.

  Then the television told them about the latest news in medicine. In a discussion about a large number of conveniences and innovations available to the disabled, the developers presented a new generation of artificial limbs which were practically indistinguishable from real ones.

  At the end of the bulletin they showed a brief glimpse of a demonstration against downloading OE in Delhi. The protesters carried placards saying: “Veggies have dimwit children”.

  “Not all of the children are born as Happies, which shows that the situation can be corrected. In any event, Einsteiner is certain to solve this problem, as it has previously solved other problems of mankind,” the presenter summed up.

  Isaac knew that the Agency was tracking the problem; he had seen the table of Veggie children’s creativity levels. But it wasn’t true simply to say that the level was low, because most of the children were born without any creativity at all and it would be a good idea to have paternity tests for the ones who did have some. So Collective Mind lied. Isaac was furious, but there was nothing he could do.

  After the advertisements came the sports news. In sports Happies performed no worse than ordinary people. Physical ability was still the determining factor here. The Veggies simply kept themselves in good shape under the guidance of a trainer, and basically accomplished with ease any task they were instructed to do.

  Suddenly Mick Jagger’s voice started singing in the room where Bikie’s computer was at work: “I can’t get no satisfaction!”

  “What the hell’s that?” Isaac started in surprise.

  “The program is signaling that it’s found a match!” said Bikie with a sly wink.

  The friends dashed to see what had been found. It turned out that the numbers of both cards used to buy cigars were found in the payment database of one tourist agency. They had been used several hours apart to pay for a flight to Sardinia. The same cost, a one-way flight. But the most exciting thing was the date of the payments. It coincided with the period of Link’s disappearance, the very same day when he didn’t show up to lecture to his waiting students.

  “Both cards again?” Bikie exclaimed, as if he was talking to the monitor. “Why two cards?”

  “Have you forgotten?” said Isaac, turning his blazing eyes towards his friend, who was so proud of his discovery but at the same time had failed to see the obvious. “Link had Yoshi with him. I’m sure she bought him cigars too. And they flew to Sardinia together. And by the way, they paid at different times to keep things secret.”

  “It sounds convincing! It is convincing, dammit! But was Sardinia their final destination?”

  “Let’s take a look at the tobacco situation on the island, shall we Bikie?”

  “Already looking.”

  Until quite recently there had been two cigar shops left on the island, both quite excessive for a dying economic sector. One shop had already closed now, but the other was working. Bikie opened up the databases of both and rummaged around in the accounts section to see if the two familiar cards showed up there. Alas, the numbers weren’t in the databases.

  “But look here!” Bikie exclaimed. “Literally two days after Link’s disappearance a really big purchase was made in one of the shops. It looks very much as if someone stocked up well in advance before going into hiding. As a former smoker, I can tell you Isaac, that when your nerves are stretched you smoke a lot more.”

  “Obviously Link couldn’t use the old cards for buying things. He must have had new ones ready in different names.”

  “If we assume that Link hunkered down on Sardinia and he has a new card, he must have used it quite a few times.”

  “Bikie, this is a lead, this is our chance to find him. Check the purchases for the last seven years on the card that came up and check that the card used for that large purchase hadn’t shown up in the shop before then and I’ll go and pack. If I’m right we’ll go to Sardinia, keep the tobacco shop under observation and lure Link out into the open.”

  While Isaac was packing, Bikie shared the news with him: no one had used that card before to buy anything at the tobacco shop, or anywhere else on the island. But the number showed up again later at that shop and in several supermarkets. Deliveries have been ordered on it too, but Bikie did not manage to discover the delivery address. “Delivery companies have been flourishing, they have the money for good data protection,” said Bikie, making an excuse.

  At last they had a theory about where Link was that was based on more than mere hope. It was much better than the straws they had been clutching at before. With their computers and their own two heads, they could set up a brainstorming session even in New Zealand if necessary and Sardinia was relatively close. Not Asia or North Africa luckily. The only thing keeping Isaac here was Vicky. His heart ached at the thought of having to part with her again and this time he did not know for how long.

  With their plan set, Isaac and Bikie felt better. The nervousness that had dominated the last couple of weeks subsided. A decision that has been taken firms things up, setting a concrete goal, switching the thoughts over to the new challenge. Neither of them wanted to admit that the logic for the journey was rather flimsy, that Link could have moved on from Sardinia, so without agreeing they supported and encouraged each other.

  That evening Isaac had yet another good sign. He got a text, short but extremely encouraging. Michelle Blanche asked him how he was getting on. He decided that today luck was definitely on his side. Forgetting about Vicky, he immediately remembered the unbelievable evening that he had spent at Wolanski’s place with Michelle, chatting and discussing things like old friends and even kissing. That was the first time she had shown any real liking for him.

  Isaac answered that he was doing great and plucked up the courage to say he would be glad to see her again and the sooner the better because he was going away and he didn’t know for how long. As he waited for Michelle’s reply the minutes st
retched out into hours, and when she finally replied: “Yes, I’ve freed up my evening, we can meet!” – Isaac was engulfed by euphoria.

  Everything was coming together incredibly well, at last they had a serious lead and his nascent relationship with Michelle was getting on track. It felt really good to fall in love, and memories of that evening kept coming back to him.

  On days like this he thought there were quite a lot of good things in his life. As he packed his suitcase, he remembered how he used to go picnicking with his family at a campsite. They drove there, and those trips were always real adventures! His mother and stepfather took turns to drive, while Vicky and he gazed out of the windows spellbound.

  Remembering Vicky again, Isaac realized with some confusion that his feelings for her were similar to what he felt for Michelle. ‘Okay, there’ll be time to figure things out,” he decided.

  Now that they calmed down a bit, the two friends started thinking about what they needed for the journey and how they were going to get there. Isaac had a clear opinion about that but he knew Bikie would be against it, dreaming of going on his motorbike, and Isaac spent a long time choosing his words before bringing up the subject. As if he was thinking out loud, he said they would need at least some inconspicuous old van for the surveillance of the shop. It would be better to drive to Sardinia in the van because you couldn’t do much talking on a motorbike. They could take their things; have a roof over their head, all hunky-dory. And if everything went well, they wouldn’t be coming back on their own. In the end Bikie realized, that Isaac had already made the decision, but they only had a motorbike, so the question was where to get a van.

  “Look, Bikie, what if we try borrowing some kind of van from someone in your crowd? Or maybe swap something for it, something that your crowd really values?”

  “Isaac, you don’t want us to go on my Harley, and you’re dropping hints, wondering where we could get a van from, aren’t you? And since there’s nowhere a van could come from I have to sell or exchange my Harley right? Now tell me….are you totally nuts?”

  Isaac nodded guiltily, as if to say, thank you, Bikie, for sparing me the need to suggest it.

  There was a brief pause and then an argument followed. Bikie protested heatedly, screaming that his Harley was his life, his brother, his love and destiny. The stuff you no way sell or exchange, either temporarily or permanently.

  “I’ll never, ever lend out my friends, my women or my motorbike!”

  But in actual fact he was arguing with himself. He was the one who had voiced the idea of swapping the Harley. Bikie was a pretty sound analyst, and he realized that he was stuck with nowhere to turn. His logic was backing his own wishes into a corner.

  “Now listen, Isaac. You talk about fantasy and creativity. Everyone who isn’t a Veggie wants to express himself, not everyone tries, but they all want to. Musicians express themselves through music, scientists through science and I express myself through my motorbike!” Bikie went hyper. “It’s more than just a piece of machinery. It’s my alter ego! I can’t sell it or swap it. It is me! I wouldn’t sell me! We bikers aren’t like that.”

  “There was this guy in the bar who had a sports bike and he was summoned to court for speeding. He managed to convince the judge that at a speed of two hundred and seventy kilometers an hour it’s impossible to read a speed limit sign. The judge who used to be a biker himself once awarded him the minimum fine and just gave him an official warning instead of confiscating his bike. That’s the way we do things.”

  “My Harley is my membership in a big family, my attachment to people who aspire to freedom and don’t rely on rules and authority for this freaking system that we fight against… It’s my comrade-in-arms. Do I have to lose my comrade for the sake of the struggle? What would you choose, Isaac? We’re not them, we’ve got hearts!”

  Bikie talked on and on, discouraging himself more and more and cursing the situation. He turned sullen and angry, realizing that he had no way out.

  “All right Isaac, let this freaking system choke on my Harley. It’s decided, I’m selling. It won’t be a sacrifice, it will be an iron bone stuck in their throat. Only I can’t do it myself. I’ll send you to a friend of mine, he’s been asking about my bike for a long time. He’s bound to buy it. Better let him have it than some other creep, even if I’ll have to give him a discount. At least he’s a straight up guy. My brother will be in reliable hands.”

  Isaac nodded without speaking. He knew firsthand what it was like to sell a part of oneself.

  Chapter 15

  The next day Isaac called the prospective buyer for the bike and they agreed to meet in the evening. In the meantime he set his eye on a roomy American-made van. It was a hell of a machine, working on the archaic fuel combustion principle, guzzling gas like a crazed horse. But then, the only windows were in the two front doors, on the driver’s and the passenger’s sides so you could carry whatever you liked in the back and no one would see it from outside.

  Before setting out to close the deal he dropped in to see Peter and outlined the situation.

  Wolanski was upset for Bikie, he couldn’t buy the bike, it would have been a violation of his father’s will, and they couldn’t put off the journey until he received his money.

  “There’s an operational Volkswagen in the garage. If you guys can find a way to destroy it – burn it or smash it up – I could receive the insurance reimbursement and buy the van to replace it. But that’s a couple of weeks’ hassle, or maybe ten days, and extra risk for you. You decide.”

  “I feel sorry for Bikie. As soon as I get my first payment, I’ll buy him a new Harley.”

  “Don’t be in a hurry to sell the rights to your V-Rain, Isaac, I’ll soon be in the money and the situation will have changed: you’re no longer a crazy stranger to me. Let’s see, maybe we can agree on a partnership. I had time to think a bit about your invention and take a closer look at you. I am ready to do business with you. As for Bikie’s Harley, let’s do this…you agree with the buyer that you have the right to buy it back within two or three months to be on the safe side with a mark-up of twenty or thirty per cent. Bluff him and say you won’t sell otherwise. I think he’ll agree.”

  “All right, I’ll try it. Thanks, Peter! Bikie will be insane with happiness. He’s desperately miserable right now and gloomy as night.”

  When Bikie heard about Peter’s idea and his willingness to buy back the motorbike he went gaga with joy. He went back to his room and asked Wolanski to come over. Bikie didn’t know how to express thanks, but it was a very long conversation, and Isaac could only guess what he said. When he came back to the living room, Bikie had a serious air and declared that Peter was like a brother to him now!

  With that burden off the shoulders of the partners, things started moving to a different rhythm. Bikie changed his mind and went with Isaac to close the deal. At first the buyer was upset, but he agreed to the buy-back condition and promised to be very careful with the bike.

  The van they bought turned out to be pretty good. Bikie bought a fuel combustion enhancer at a car dump and attached it to the engine. The gas was heated by air oxygen and entered the engine at an increased pressure that cut the fuel consumption by a third. An essential, albeit short-term gain: in this way the motor wore out sooner and various rubber gaskets and old spark plugs burned out more quickly.

  Isaac provided for their everyday needs and with the rest of the money from the Harley he bought a couple of sleeping bags, some blankets, a little stove and other bits and pieces that might come in handy. They were intending to work, cook and sleep in the van and they had no idea how long the trip would last.

  The two friends packed their things in silence. Bikie was still sulking about losing his Harley, even though temporarily, and he didn’t talk much. They just exchanged occasional remarks about important things… that was all.

  Bikie was worried that the bike would end up in an accident or break down, he imagined someone blithely racing it too
fast with the engine roaring, so every now and then he started grumbling like an old man with gout venting his bad feelings on his friend.

  “Don’t forget to take your ski boots, Isaac!”

  “Don’t forget your pink bathrobe, Isaac!”

  “Will you survive a week without any porn sites, Isaac?”

  Isaac tried to ignore the gibes and focus on essential things. He realized that for Bikie traveling to Sardinia was a blow, especially taking the ferry, and going for a long time and not on a motorbike. It was like a senior VP of Boeing flying on business in an Airbus.

  “Isaac, take the umbrellas,” Bikie gibed yet again.

  It seemed he just couldn’t calm down. Finally said he was going to write a song about a proud Kenyan marathon runner — an Olympic champion — serving in the army in big, clumsy boots.

  “That’s it, Bikie. Stop it right now. I tell you what you love everything American, don’t you? So look, we are traveling in a classic American van, we are going to live in it, and I agree to listen to nothing but rock’n’roll the whole way. How about that?”

  “Okay, damn you, on those terms it’s a different matter!” said Bikie, suddenly breaking into a smile. “You surrendered easily after holding out for no more than an hour!”

  They hooted with laughter and never mentioned the subject of vans, motorbikes or marathon runners in boots and swim fins again. Bikie packed a full box of rock’n’roll discs, enough to last them for a year on the road. There was no point in objecting, the old van didn’t have any slots for modern phones or memory cards, and there was no time to look for an adapter.