The Berlin Package

by Peter Riva

  “In the works. Some will be hushed up. Several governments are involved who should have—could have—known better. The microdots were vintage World War Two and showed the exact hiding place of all the stashes, coordinated by Spacil in Berlin in 1945. The list tied up with Fellar’s lists, which the Senate has now acquired. There are four shipments still in US Treasury deposits that have changed to a nice color pink. As you can imagine, they are being dealt with. The Spacil factory computers, with experts called in to break complex codes, have already revealed past and planned shipments of replacement fuel rods flown out to all the suspect rogue nations. The Pi factory private jet has been impounded. It has a lead-lined cargo section. The IAEA and the foreign desks of every civilized nation will be busy for months to come. As I have a copy, I’ll follow this personally.”

  Pero did not respond. He remembered Sergio’s comment about a presidential run. The ambassador must have known that being at the front of such an investigation would help his presidential chances. Pero, instead, thanked him and pleaded fatigue and said good-bye.

  That night he had terrible dreams. He cried out in his sleep and nurses rushed in to see what was wrong. When woken, all he could remember was an image of a plane whose passengers had flesh that was slowly melting, faces masked in horror.

  The doctors checked him out the next morning. They confirmed he was making excellent progress and that both wounds were healing perfectly. The first wound was more of a problem. The superglue had closed the wound, which then became septic. While he was unconscious, they had cut it open, allowed it to drain and now it was time to remove the final stitches and pull the drainage tube. One less dripping pipe sticking out of me, Pero mused. They told him he could have the other drainage tubes removed in the next day or two. Everyone seemed overly happy with the output of urine compared with the input of saline and what he was drinking. When consulting the chart, all the staff nodded sagely at his good progress.

  “So, any permanent damage?” He had to know.

  “Ja, but it is not serious unless you drink too much.” They meant alcohol. Pero didn’t drink regularly or to excess, so he nodded and told them that was not a problem. They continued with their report, “You will be able to resume normal activities within the month, maybe five weeks.”

  Pero thanked them, and just before they left, the older doctor reached up and turned off the Geiger counter. He looked down. Danger over, his smile said.

  The phone rang, it was Heep, Mary, Danny, Sam, and Bertha, and Sergio on a conference call, Sergio’s doing. After the usual questions, they all seemed happy with his progress and Danny made dogmatic noises about Pero getting back to work.

  “Honestly, how long do you think we can cover for you?” When Pero didn’t answer, Danny rather sheepishly said, “Sorry, Pero, just trying a little humor.”

  Pero tried to keep the humor out of his voice, “Much appreciated, Danny, but if I had reacted, you wouldn’t have had to grovel just now and apologize to a sick man who’s waiting for worker’s comp to kick in.”

  Danny exploded in laughter. “Bastard. Oh, hey, I learned your nickname, Otter. Suits you to a T, water-walker that you are. What happened to that bag of water anyway?”

  Sam chimed in, “Danny, you’re not supposed to ask about that. Sorry, Pero.”

  “No, it’s okay,” Pero answered, “if it’s psychological problems you’re worried about, skip it. I have none. If it’s state secrets you’re worried about, share them among yourselves openly. You know too much not to dot the I’s and cross the T’s.” Danny, ever curious as actors usually are, asked again. Pero put his head back on the pillows and listened as things were explained to him by Sam and Sergio.

  Finally, “Jesus Christ. What a way to go. Serves the bastard right. And his sister?”

  Bertha explained, “That’s where Susanna is now, breaking all their little codes.”

  Sam kicked in, “Yeah, hey, Pero, you can’t believe what she’s done for cryptography with that little microphone …”

  “SilkeWire …” Bertha corrected him.

  “Sorry, SilkeWire programming. She’s running a subroutine across his encoding, you know like on the sat phones? Well, her subroutine does almost mechanically what the enigma machine did, only using binary differential calculus as a base set parameter. In short, she’s able to construct or deconstruct code in three dimensions with time as the constant.”

  Pero sighed, “Ah, Sam, you’ve lost me …”

  “Well, Pero, it’s like this …”

  Pero could just hear Bertha whispering in Giraffe’s ear, “Not now Liebling, he’s tired.”

  “Oh, sorry, Pero. Hey, I’ll explain all this to you another day. Did you know Bertha and I …?” He left it hanging.

  “Yes, the ambassador told me. I couldn’t be happier. Finally a mind equal to your own.”

  “It’s not only the mind, Pero, she also has great …”

  “Ach, you will not explain that on this phone!”

  “Sorry dear. Well, Pero, we’ll get off the line, leave you with Danny, Heep, Mary, and Sergio. We’ll talk soon. Will you come to the wedding?”

  Bertha shouted, “Was? You haven’t even asked me yet proper and you tell everybody on die telephon?” But her tone said she was happy, really happy.

  “Hey Pero, get back in, the water’s great! Bye.” And he was gone, Bertha too.

  “I was going to get off the phone too, Pero,” it was Sergio, and it sounded like he was calling from his plane.

  “Me too, Pero,” came Danny’s voice, “I am up here with Sergio, we’re over Switzerland, the beautiful Alps, you can’t imagine … well, yes you can, sorry. Feel better Pero. Bye.”

  Sergio continued: “It’s Saturday, in case you didn’t know, and I’ve got a party to go to tonight at the chalet. Wish you could join us. Anytime you need a lift again, you let me know. It was an honor and, la loutre, comme auparavant.” Pero thought, yes, it was like before, good memories, good friends, new and old.

  “Bye, Sergio, Lion, thank you, old friend, for … well … being you. Couldn’t get any better.” He meant it, Sergio would understand.

  “Well, tell my ex-wives. Bye, Pero.” And he clicked off.

  “You too tired to talk some more Pero?” It was Mary. She sounded near.

  “You with Heep?”

  “Yes, I flew in a few days after. Initially, I called a few times for you in the hospital, got Danny and Heep and that nice André, who wouldn’t leave the hospital for a few days, so I came to join them. I’ve been enjoying Berlin, now I know why you always love it so.” He could hear her intake of breath, “Heep and I are expecting.” She said it so suddenly, it caught Pero unawares.

  “Congratulations! Damn Heep, at your age?”

  “To make a child with Mary is all I could think about, it’s all we want.”

  “That’s wonderful.” Suddenly Pero felt sad. Time was passing. It wasn’t just that the clock was ticking, it was the increasing remoteness of possibility, the diminishing chances of renewal as the years clicked by.

  His friends knew him well, “Don’t be sad Pero.” It was Mary, her voice barely above a whisper. He wasn’t sure she had intended that he could hear.

  “He’s not sad, Mary, he saved the world, yet again. He has this great movie to produce. Mbuno’s wife is doing well. Mbuno and Niamba are happy eating fish south of Rome. All’s well that ends well. How can he be sad?”

  Pero answered for her, “Mary’s right Heep. It’s what Mbuno said, that I was lone. Acting as one, not sharing. I envy you the kid, Mary and Heep, especially for the togetherness it brings.” There it was, in a nutshell. His thoughts turned inward, all this adventure, all this suffering, all this anguish and my pathetic ego kicks in, and I come down to basic animal needs.

  Pero had realized he didn’t want to be lone anymore.

  “Mary, we’ll leave Pero, it’s been a long call. We’ll see him tomorrow. One last thing Pero,” Heep had been saving something, he could sens
e it in his voice. “Your first visitor is coming this afternoon, get some rest, but keep your appetite. She lovingly said she will forgive you, you dummer mann, as you promised bananas.” And they clicked off, laughing, “Bye!”

  Much to his surprise, as Pero was lying here, dead phone receiver in hand, he was suddenly full of expectation and, finally, beginning to feel happy. In fact, he was feeling happier than he had felt for years. As he replaced the phone receiver into its cradle, it occurred to him that he might have to get used to being in love all over again.

  Bonobos indeed …

  End