by Pablo Tusset
‘All right. You said you had a proposal to make. We’re listening.’
The guy reclined a bit in his easy chair and looked at me. Then he turned to The First, and then back to me again, and so on. Finally, when we were as rapt as we could possibly be, he said:
‘One of the three of you has to stay here with us. And it has to be Pablo.’
I nearly choked on the puff of smoke in my lungs at that one, so my Magnificent Brother was the first to voice his disagreement.
‘What? Forget it … Why him?’
The Exorcist displayed a magnanimous gesture of patience.
‘Sebastian, please. Be reasonable. You’re married, you have two children and a business to oversee. There are too many people who are increasingly aware of your absence with every passing hour. Your father is a powerful man, he has excellent contacts, and he could complicate things considerably for us. That, then, is in nobody’s best interests, and I doubt that you’d want your lovely lady friend to remain here with us. Pablo is the only one who can disappear off the face of the Earth without anyone missing him too much: he’s certainly done it before. An occasional postcard with a stamp from some exotic place is all we’d need to keep your father happy.’
‘Excuse me, but I find myself quite happy on the face of the Earth and I don’t intend to leave it. So you’d better think up something else,’ I said.
The guy sat there looking at me with an expression on his face that I hadn’t seen before.
‘I think you might want to try it, Pablo … Stay with us. We need men like you.’
It was the first time that anyone who wasn’t the proprietor of a bar or restaurant had said something like that to me. And I have to say I felt flattered, though I continued to put up a fight.
‘I should warn you that I am extremely poorly suited for membership in a cult. Rules aren’t my thing.’
‘Cult?’ He smiled. ‘It never would have occurred to me to think of the Worm as a cult.’ He leaned back against his throne. ‘If memory serves me right, cults, as they are properly known, fulfil certain requirements that have nothing in common with us. We don’t apologise for our way of life, at least not indiscriminately: you could almost say that our mode of action is anti-attraction. Very few people interest us, and the few that actually do find it quite difficult to approach us. You are an exception, for you have overridden the normal procedure. Nor do we have a charismatic leader. I, for example, occupy an important position, but my power isn’t personal – I’ve been elected by a council with a constantly rotating membership. Yes, of course, certain positions carry with them certain privileges, such as this excellent champagne, but the same is true of the board of any multinational company. Our internal members and natives have no other obligation than that of observing the discipline and looking after themselves, and if we have to rely on external employees we are most generous with our remuneration,’ he said, with a gesture that indicated the two mega-hyenas, who remained impassive.
‘We are most definitely not a cult,’ he continued on. ‘No more than the Barcelona Football Club, although, like them, we too are a bit more than a mere club. More than a secret society, even. Why, I would almost venture to say that we are a world apart. And this other plane of reality needs thinkers – in the very same way that the world you’ve lived in up until now needs thinkers, my good friend Pablo.’
‘Well you should know that I think as little as possible, and usually only when forced to do so.’
The guy smiled, and an intelligent expression came over his face.
‘Don’t be modest, now … over the past few days we’ve been following your Invented Reality theory quite closely, and we have been very pleasantly surprised. My goodness, if anything good has come out of this affair it has been the opportunity to meet you. In general, we don’t concern ourselves with the Internet beyond what we need to do for internal communication, but after the connection you established with us, under a false name, we thought it convenient to keep tabs on you a bit. Not only did we immediately realise that you were the man Sebastian had hired to investigate our Door, but we also hit upon – almost by accident, mind you – the Metaphysical Club. Isn’t that what it’s called? At first we simply couldn’t believe that the person who wrote those words had absolutely nothing to do with our organisation. They were the very same conclusions: almost literally, the same words that led Geoffrey de Brun to establish The Fortress and withdraw from the world in the Spring of 1254. The difference, perhaps, is that you have eight more centuries to support you and our founder had to make up that distance on his own. Even so, it is quite an exceptional coincidence. I think you could be extremely happy with us, not to mention quite useful to the organisation. We are prepared to offer you whatever it is you need to continue with the work you’ve begun.’
‘I doubt that,’ I said. Now The First was the one who didn’t understand what the hell we were talking about.
‘Why do you doubt it? Try and ask …’
‘Look, it’s not worth it. To start with, I don’t have any work to continue. Remember, metaphysicals do very little – in fact, that’s exactly why I like the field so much. Nobody pays you but there’s also very little work to be done, and what little there is is almost never urgent. In addition, I already told you I’m not good with rules, and I don’t care if they’re Van Gaal’s or those of the Knights of Malta. If you took the time to read my pieces in the Metaphysical Club, you would know that, aside from those eight centuries of accumulated nonsense, I have a habit of doing strictly what I feel like doing: no more, no less. You might call me a free spirit, if you can understand that.’
‘What about when your credit runs out? You’ll have to excuse me, but I should add that our investigation of you goes beyond the Internet … Think, for a moment, of a place where you could do whatever you wanted without ever worrying about money. We don’t use money here in the Fortress.’
‘Right. Well, since you’re so well-informed about me, you must also know that half of my father’s money is far more than I’ll ever need to keep myself drunk for the next five hundred years. After that, we can talk.’
‘Have you seen your father’s Last Will and Testament? Perhaps, after all, he isn’t going to split his fortune into two equal parts.’
‘That’s all right, whatever the law says I have coming to me will be fine.’
The guy pretended to blink for a second.
‘Shall I take that to mean you do not accept my proposal?’
The First decided to take over the dialogue.
‘Of course he doesn’t accept.’
‘Very well. In that case I have no other choice but to keep the three of you here,’ the guy said, as if he really didn’t want to have to do it.
The First then snapped back into action.
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Ignacio. You yourself said we’d be missed. My father will move heaven and earth to find us. Sooner or later he’ll find you. You know that.’
‘We can always offer him a pair of corpses to cry over. Or, to be exact, three corpses: his two beloved heirs and the lady friend of one of them. A most unfortunate accident: three passengers pressed together inside a two-seater Lotus, high alcohol content in their blood, music playing full-blast …’
Just then, I thought of the Opel Corsa, upside-down in the excavation pit where they were digging a car park.
‘Robellades’ son wasn’t even thirty years old. Sir, you are a swine.’
‘Who is Robellades?’ The First asked, but neither I nor the Exorcist chose to fill him in on the details.
‘Before getting rude, you should know that the Robellades incident was a complete accident, and be assured that I am as chagrined about it as you. I am being completely honest, you must believe me. He had gone too far, and we wanted to act accordingly but we had something else in mind entirely. We are not murderers.’
‘What about tying this one to a chair and beating the daylights out of him? Was that an accident, too? Or did his f
ace get like that from all the mosquitoes?’
‘With your brother, we have had to go a considerable degree further than usual. He is an obstinate man, but we had no idea how very obstinate he could be. We have been extremely careful, however, not to inflict any damage that would take more than a few weeks to heal. Before judging us so harshly, remember that our survival is hanging in the balance, and remember, too, that you were the ones who tried to intimidate one of our employees by inserting a very dangerous object up his nose. A … a toothbrush, if I’m not mistaken,’ he read from a paper on his desk.
‘Well, we only wanted to scare him,’ said The First.
‘Are you trying to say that psychological torture isn’t torture just the same? Not to mention the bones you have broken and the fact that right now a guard is lying in the infirmary with one of his testicles sliced in half. You have no more excuses than we do, Sebastian, and you know it. We have all been trying to avoid the danger that threatens our collective survival. And none of this would have ever happened if you hadn’t interfered in our business. You know that Lali is with us voluntarily, just as Gloria is not with us voluntarily, and you have no right to meddle with that. You tried to save someone who didn’t need saving in the first place. That was your mistake. And I’m not threatening you now, I’m simply offering you the only possibility I can think of to save you. Take it as a sign of my good will: you know I love your wife as if she were my own daughter, and I know that you love my daughter as if she were your own wife.’
Aside from the tongue-twister finale, the Exorcist clearly was in the right when he accused The First of being a meddlesome busybody, I can certainly vouch for that. On the other hand, though, I did think the guy was capable of keeping me and releasing The First and Fina, under the condition that he would axe me if they ever spilled the beans to anyone. In short, it was relatively unimportant if we agreed with him or not. He had all the cards to play and we had none.
I didn’t say anything because, for the moment, my pointing out that observation would not help to brighten the mood much. Although, when you got down to it, the Exorcist’s solution did seem like a far better option than the three of us getting bumped off on the motorway near Garraf. And in that light, accepting his proposal was really the best option because at least it would allow me to negotiate the conditions.
‘All right. Let’s suppose, for a moment, that I decide to stay here as your hostage,’ I began.
‘Forget it,’ The First interrupted.
‘Shut up for a second, do you mind? I’m speaking to your friend.’
‘Very well. Let’s suppose,’ said the Exorcist. ‘But let’s begin by referring to you, if we may, not as a hostage but as a guest.’
‘Right. Let’s suppose I decide to stay here as your guest. Under what conditions would I be living?’
‘Whatever conditions you require. We can give you whatever you like, as I said before. What do you think you would need to be comfortable?’
I thought a bit and tried to compose a list of my bare necessities.
‘Comfortable, what does that mean to me, comfortable … I don’t know … abundant food … a daily bottle of vodka or its equivalent in lower-grade alcohol … ten grams a week of hashish … female companionship from time to time (for exclusively sexual ends, of course) … an Internet connection … I guess … and no predetermined schedules, I’m allergic to alarm clocks.’
My requirements seemed to amuse him.
‘You are an extraordinary man, if I may say so myself. I would be delighted to discuss this further with you, at our leisure. For the moment, however, I can tell you that I am perfectly prepared to accept your conditions, though with one small modification. I can provide you with almost any kind of drug, including alcohol, but as far as female company is concerned, you will have to take care of that on your own. That said, of course, I think you’ll find it quite easy in the Fortress to find whomever you might be looking for. Our female population in this enclave totals out at almost two thousand women – internals and natives included – and I’m certain that a considerable number of them would be most interested in your company. Internet connections are a rather rare privilege here on the inside, but given the special circumstances involved in your situation, we can surely provide you with one – always under a certain amount of surveillance, of course. You must understand that we cannot allow you to surf the web indiscriminately. I would venture to say that we would allow you to have access to whatever information you might want, but that your transmissions would be subjected to a process of surveillance. I think that would be technically possible. And in addition, of course, we would provide you with most acceptable health and hygiene conditions, and we would offer you private dwellings that would be ample enough for you to work and rest comfortably. How does that sound to you? Can you think of anything else?’
I thought hard, focusing all the attention I could muster, so as not to leave out anything basic from my list.
‘Can I watch television?’
He smiled again. I still couldn’t figure out what the hell he found so funny.
‘I’m sorry. That I cannot grant you. Unless, of course, you manage to do so via the Internet.’
The First was now looking at me with a you-don’t-know-what-you’re-getting-into face, but to tell the truth, the place was starting to sound pretty appealing. In fact, I don’t think I could have invented a paradise more tailor-made to my desires: there was only one woman in the Garden of Eden, no alcohol, not even a crummy transistor radio – and that’s not to mention Yahweh, who was probably like my father only a hell of a lot worse, and omniscient to boot. The only things that concerned me were those ‘hygiene and health conditions’ (did that mean I was going to have to shower every day?) and the notion that it would be so easy to find female companionship in an environment in which money didn’t change hands. The loyal reader will remember how I mistrust all women who don’t charge for their services. How on Earth could I possibly be of interest to a Fortress woman? Only for something sordid, that had to be it.
Just then, Fina returned from the ladies’ room in the company of her official escort, who appeared only briefly, to open the door for her. She had changed out of her robe and into a pair of black coveralls. Now she looked like one of Charlie’s Angels.
‘Did I miss anything?’
The Exorcist answered.
‘Yes, in fact: a glass of champagne. Would you like one?’
‘If it’s cold …’
‘And a slice of cake?’
‘With fruit?’
‘Pignoli nuts.’
‘Well, just a sliver, it’s so fattening, you know. I see you’re celebrating now,’ she replied, and gazed outside. ‘Oh, it’s so pretty – look, they’ve lit up Montjüic.’
The Exorcist served Fina her champagne, and then raised his glass to make a toast:
‘To your health, Pablo, and to the agreement we have sealed, an agreement that will be as beneficial to us as it will be to you.’
The First rose up from his chair.
‘Excuse me, Ignacio, but we haven’t made any such agreement. And if you don’t mind, I’d like a few words with my brother, alone if possible.’
‘Of course. I’m sure you two have some personal issues to sort out. In the meanwhile, perhaps your charming friend and I will finish our champagne together.’
At the Exorcist’s bidding, one of the mega-hyenas opened a sliding door that was almost hidden behind some wood panelling. The First strode confidently over to the door and cocked his head toward it, indicating that I was to follow him.
The room we entered was outfitted with an oval table and twenty or so chairs. Through the metal blinds covering another massive picture window you could see the city lights sparkling down below.
‘Are you mad?’ said The First.
‘Naturally,’ I replied.
‘They’re not exactly proposing a vacation scheme at the Poblet monastery, idiot. They’re proposing that you
spend the rest of your life inside this place. Do you know what that means?’
‘Yes, and so what? If I don’t accept it, I will be equally condemned to live the rest of my life on the outside.’
‘Do me a favour and drop the jokes, if you don’t mind. And stop smoking that shit already, it’s making your brain rot. Now. We are going to leave this room and tell Ignacio that we do not accept his proposal.’
‘Oh, really? And would you rather he bump us off in your car?’
‘Let them try. I can assure you that we’ll put up a good fight.’
‘Oh, sure. Sven the Terrible has spoken. And Fina? What about her, you’re prepared to let her die with her gun cocked? And your kids? How are they ever going to grow up to be good little snobs if you aren’t there to teach them?’
He hesitated a moment, and I took advantage of the lull to emphasise my point.
‘Think about it for a second: if we refuse to go along with him, there’s no way we’ll get out of here – all we’ll get is death by bloodbath, and a messy one at that. On the other hand, if we accept we’ll gain a bit of time, and from the outside you can start moving things to help me escape. Wouldn’t it be easier if we only had to worry about getting one of us out of here? That way we can plan the escape slowly and calmly, plus there’ll be other people to help us.’
‘Very well then. I’ll stay and you go with Josephine.’
‘But you heard what your friend said: he won’t accept anyone but me.’
‘We’ll see about that.’
I decided to switch tactics.
‘Shit, Sebastian – can’t you see I want to give it a try?’
That one really got him.
‘Try? Try what? Getting yourself stuck in a black hole?’
‘All right, all right … all your goddamn life you’ve treated me as if I live in the worst kind of squalor and misery. Why don’t you realise once and for all that I adore my little bit of misery.’
‘What you are is sick. Very sick.’
‘All right. That’s fine. But I’m not looking for a cure.’
