by Adam Peled
Rettoul wasn’t sure if Thor’s method was correct, but he said nothing. Someone beckoned to Thor and he asked Rettoul to join him. “I want you by my side. I don’t want to shatter Slaughter’s power, but we were always together. You’re the leader.”
Rettoul joined him. Thor talked to one of the guards and in an instant became red with anger. He grabbed the guard’s shirt and shook him hard. “You fool! No money in the world is worth that! What were you thinking?”
Rettoul looked at the poor guard, who grew pale and began to stammer. “But…there are more than two thousand… That’s a huge number… For months we didn’t collect such a sum from the population…”
Thor ended the guard’s words by punching him in the face. Rettoul watched in silence. He didn’t understand what was going on, but assumed Thor’s aggressive behavior was needed, if only to maintain the tough image he’d assumed.
“You won’t believe what happened now! The idiot sold Mattoui to Coldor for money,” said a pale Thor to Rettoul.
“What do you mean? I sent Mattoui back home.”
“You only think you’re responsible for what happens here. Moran has other laws, as I mentioned to you earlier. My man decided to give me a ‘special gift’ from Coldor and sold Mattoui to him. In return, he brought a heavy suitcase, as promised—a reward for each of us.” He said the word ‘us’ quietly.
“What? Moses sold Mattoui and the rest of us?”
“No. My idiot, whom I sent to bring you, saw Mattoui leaving on Moses’ Kaiser. Although Moses and I are good friends… Well, on Moran everyone’s always suspicious of everyone else. He decided to take responsibility and abandoned his friends—you used that heavy tape on most of them—avoiding a confrontation with you. After realizing who you were, he tracked Mattoui and reported to Coldor, leading his men straight to Tamar and Mattoui’s home.”
Rettoul tensed. “I didn’t think we’d get out of this war alive. When there were only four of us left, I said okay, that’s also for the best. When I saw you, I was filled with so much joy. And now this great loss.”
Thor patted Rettoul on the shoulder. “I know what Mattoui is to you. We have to think what to do now. Too many cards were wrecked my hands. You know what the most annoying thing is?” Thor said to him. “This fellow was one of Coldor’s men originally, but because I connected with them in the den, he felt far safer with me than with his friends. He soon defected to me. I trusted him, and he obviously didn’t know who I was. But I thought he was reliable… Good God, so reliable that he sold my friend for me.” Thor was appalled.
***
It could’ve been just another night, Zoi thought. Thor, Tamar, Rettoul, Berez, the children, he himself—only Mattoui was missing. With a tear in his eye, he could see the joy in the house that Tamar and Thor had built. He was tired of events—of recent years in general and of recent months in particular. Rettoul was to have brought the redemption so yearned for. They were supposed to help him. They were together all the time, and now Mattoui was in the wrong hands.
Having known Coldor and Bar for many years, Zoi was well aware what they were capable of and where they might go. The tear didn’t fall, but as he heard the laughter of children, he looked around the room. It was nothing like he’d ever seen.
The room was tidy, despite the large number of children, and each had their clear place. Despite the order and authority clearly evident, the smiles of joy never left the faces of either the children or the educational staff. Tamar looked somewhat wilted, though. Her joy and giving and love for the children had been diminished as soon as they realized Mattoui might not return.
Lots of small corners were arranged in the room, filled with children’s games and plenty of dolls and toys. It seemed that every child had as many games as they wanted, and plenty still remained for the rest. Corners for board games, with groups of three, four, five, and six children sitting around them, playing with great concentration. Arts and crafts, reading corners, a TV corner, a computer corner, a work area with a teacher—it was amazing what Thor and Tamar had created. The dream of every educator, and everything necessary could be found in this magical room.
***
Rettoul retired to his room, thinking of Mattoui. He didn’t care about anything except for the fact that he’d sent Mattoui to his death. His heart was heavy. He’d never felt like a prophet, despite everything that’d happened to him and his strong sense of a mission that had grown steadily over the years.
And now he felt he’d buried his best friend his own hands.
A light knock at the door woke him as if from a nightmare. His whole body was sweaty, his face apparently very pale as Tamar, standing at the doorway, was shocked to see him.
“What’s happened?” she cried.
“I hope it’s just my love that terrifies me and not reality,” he replied quietly.
Rettoul was silent for a long time and Tamar didn’t urge him on. Then he said, “The truth is, I don’t think they’ll do anything to him until we get there to save him.” As they talked, things became clearer in his thoughts. “They won’t hurt him, Tamar, at least as long as they believe that we’re alive. And as long we give them the impression that we’re coming to save him.”
“What do you mean, ‘give them the impression’? Will we try to save him or not?”
“Of course we’ll save him!” he said firmly and loudly, if only to convince himself of the possibility. “You have to understand that they won’t settle for just one of us. They’re doubly afraid because by ourselves, we managed pretty well in their ranks. They know and appreciate our capabilities. Our strength together is not analogous to the power of five, but of five hundred, if not five thousand. They’re aware what we mean as a team.
“After your "incident" on lavi , and after we all disappeared, they announced a separate award for each of us and a particularly large prize for us as a group. It was clear that they wouldn’t make do with one, no matter who it was. That’s how they can break us. One is the bait for the other four, and they aren’t an idiot who would forgo four even if one should be left alive. I know they won’t harm Mattoui for now, although I don’t know how long that will last.”
Now it was Tamar’s turn to be silent for a long time and Rettoul feared disturbing her. Suddenly she stood up and asked, as if the conversation hadn’t ended previously, “Rettoul, exactly what’s happening here?”
“What do you mean?”
“Something doesn’t make sense. Despite the love and tremendous sharing between Mattoui and myself, I know you’re hiding something from me. I never asked Mattoui what motivated you, what brings you together, what brought you to this situation that now all of us—including myself—must run for our lives. I did this because Thor assured me that by keeping quiet I’d get to meet Mattoui quickly and easily. I knew that if I stayed at home, there was a good chance I’d never see him. I didn’t ask Thor what or why, I just went with him—as I did before with Mattoui. I never asked what this secret among you is, what weaves the spell that will probably never be broken. But now it’s time to let me know. This isn’t ‘my love,’ it’s no longer ‘your friends.’ Mattoui’s life is in danger because of this special relationship. That’s clear to everyone. And yet—the reason is hidden.”
Rettoul was silent.
She had a point, but he’d never talked about the relationship between him and Mattoui apart from their shared history. Yes, they were united by something they’d never spoken about. This was the first time things had to be said.
“You said there’s a period when they won’t hurt Mattoui, as long as they’re sure you’ll get there to save him,” Tamar continued. “We’re going to waste some of this time so I know what’s going on. I can’t remain silent any longer. It’s not just your life, or the lives of Berez, Thor, Mattoui, or Zoi. My life is hanging by a thread with yours, and my flight from home and integration into Slaughter’s life… The lives of dozens of children are also in danger. Rettoul, there are points of no ret
urn in life. You and I have reached one. Maybe if I understood, other things would become clear—not only to me.”
Rettoul knew she was right, but the words were heavy and impossible to pronounce. He didn’t know where to start in sharing the facts. His obligation wasn’t only toward her, but as she said, to each of his friends—Zoi, Thor, Berez, and, of course, Mattoui—and toward all the children who’d been gathered and protected in order to create and enjoy a better world for everyone.
In the silence he told her the story of his life and destiny. He explained Mattoui’s role and the roles of the others in the quintet. He spoke about Benaya and his real parents, told about the scrolls and the ice planet. Words fell from his lips as nothing was forgotten.
This was the first time he’d heard his life story aloud, in his own voice, and suddenly things took on a different meaning. Tears filled his eyes when he talked of Benaya. He was moved when he mentioned his parents, angry when he described his training, and almost silent when he described the scrolls.
Tamar listened carefully, even when it seemed parts were missing. Soon the whole picture was complete. They were silent for a long time when he finished.
***
“I don’t understand why you think I know where they are,” Mattoui replied to Coldor.
The room he’d been put in was somewhat familiar. He’d never visited the prison on Falcon, but many stories had been told about the place: the security personnel, trained to act like starved animals and beat the prisoners mercilessly; the rotten, wet structure, where even if prisoners managed to protect themselves against rats and snakes, they’d fall ill after a short stay; the wormy food eaten by insects that was unfit even for animals, let alone prisoners. Mattoui knew he’d be imprisoned there. He also knew he’d be released—if not by his friends, then Coldor would keep him alive to serve as a bargaining chip. The location was intended to scare him and break his spirit.
He didn’t know where his strength came from to deal face to face with Coldor fearlessly, although he had no confidence that this time he’d come out alive.
Countless thoughts went through his head, but none pertained to Tamar, only his friends. When would he meet them? On the one hand, he knew none would abandon him. On the other hand, they might realize that perhaps they should give up on him, having given up on Thor, if only to achieve the ultimate goal.
“You got it wrong,” said Coldor. “I already know where they are. Who do you think sold you to me? Who sent you home? Rettoul won’t let anything stand in his way. You should’ve seen it before, since you were so close to him. You’re not a stupid boy, Mattoui, and yet Rettoul managed to sell you—and all in the name of love.” Coldor roared with laughter and its echo didn’t leave Mattoui’s head.
“So…” Mattoui ignored what he said. “Kill me. Throw me into a filthy wet cell until I rot. Why, actually, are we talking now? After all, I know you well, Coldor. You don’t do anything for nothing. True, this is a great opportunity to hurt me, but you don’t waste time on nonsense. You’d enjoy seeing me thrown in a cell with snakes and rats far more. You’d be far happier watching me trying to avoid your men’s lashings. Dear Rod Coldor, you wouldn’t waste your time interrogating me without it serving a purpose for you.”
Coldor burned with rage at Mattoui’s bold words in front of the security team. He motioned with narrowed eyes and Mattoui was beaten mercilessly.
“You’re right. I enjoy this way much more,” he said aggressively. “Your friends are on Moran under close supervision, now with Slaughter. And they might not get out alive, because everyone knows who Slaughter is. And you know what my problem is? That it won’t be me who kills them—someone else will have the pleasure. That’s the only thing that bothers me, but it’s still possible. It could be that within a few hours you’ll all sit together and make a roster to decide who sits on whose head to be saved from a sting or a bite. Just for that I should leave you alive. Because, as you said, I have no greater joy than seeing someone writhing before his death. I could’ve perfected my pleasure to see you all—even one by one, but all of you—begging for your lives.”
“Coldor…” Mattoui gathered his strength. “When you see Rettoul, give him my love.”
“Why do you think you’re going to die so soon? Really, you’re not.” Coldor ordered his men to take Mattoui to his cell and added, while Mattoui was still within hearing, “Send Rettoul a message tomorrow that his friend is alive, that he’s in the Falconite jail with the other prisoners. Tell him Mattoui sends his love and appreciation. Tell him also that Mattoui knows Rettoul’s a man of alliances. Long before he takes out his Jorash, he’ll find out if his best friend is alive.”
***
Zoi and Berez practiced in the early morning, fighting on a mattress in a room with padded walls. They expended a lot of energy and it was doubtful if they would’ve left the other alive had they not been good friends. They knew exactly which blows would lead to further battle without substantial harm, with the battle being art in itself. Anyone watching wouldn’t have known how they survived the wrestling, but in fact neither of them used fatal blows. The idea was to drive the battle on as an opportunity for further training.
Thor and Rettoul practiced at the shooting range with dozens of types of targets and at varying distances. Both were great snipers who could’ve easily taught the art to the best shooting coaches and instructors in the galaxy. Although there was no struggle between them, both were so tense that their shirts were soaked with sweat. Their hands were light, and yet they felt them; their feet were stable, yet their knees ached from the great tension and the concentration demanded.
At half past seven they all met in the dining room. Tamar was sitting with the children but left them when the four entered, fresh and alert after training and showers. They sat at a corner table. All the children and staff sat at other tables, waiting as usual for Thor. Rettoul saw their eyes reflecting admiration and great love. He knew Thor was doing something very significant—not only for himself, but for the dozens of children. There was joy in the dining room and Rettoul didn’t know whether it was because of the children, or because of them. He recognized the joy of childhood and youth—a flavor forgotten from his own.
They began to eat with reverence. None of them had been in such a position before with so much love and benevolence in one place.
Suddenly, Tamar asked, “What now?” Her question ripped the air.
“There’s not much to do right now,” stated Rettoul. “If things are as I think, we’ll receive a message from Coldor in a few hours. Thor’s man probably wants to increase his share in the headhunt and has told him that we’re here. If he hasn’t yet identified who Slaughter is, Coldor doesn’t know whether we’re still alive after arriving here. One thing he knows for certain—the three of us arrived alive.”
Everyone looked at him in silence and went on eating. Thor left in the wake of one of his guards.
Thor wasn’t surprised by Coldor’s message:
We haven’t met, but I’ve heard about you, Slaughter. I admire and respect you as I would an honored old friend. I appeal to you with a special request: You’re holding a group of war criminals whose names are known throughout the galaxy and whose pictures adorn all the search columns. These are Rettoul, Zoi, and Berez from the notorious quintet. I am holding Mattoui, their friend, while Thor, the fifth member, has disappeared. The group is very dangerous, capable of bringing another disaster on the galaxy that barely survived the war.
I want to send you, with your permission, a Kaiser full of prisoners in exchange for prosecuting the three men for the war crimes they’re accused of. If they’re dead already, we’ll collect the bodies for display at the Falconite stadium. I greatly appreciate your cooperation, and in more peaceful times would love to sit down together like old friends.
With much appreciation and best wishes,
Rod Coldor.
Rettoul went over the message again and again, trying to read between the lines. Co
ldor seemed tired but happy. It was clear that, with his remaining strength, he aimed to remove the last stumbling block, as far as he was concerned, prior to the next galactic disaster.
“I need someone who knows the layout of Coldor’s residence,” said Rettoul. “Do you have someone like that here?”
“Yes.”
“Have him join us now!” Rettoul demanded of Thor and assembled them all to prepare for the journey.
***
The cell was cold and Mattoui couldn’t find himself. He couldn’t stand anymore; his legs ached and he sat where he thought it was relatively clean, though he knew nothing was clean in the stinking cell into which he’d been thrown. It was quiet, but in the silence he heard the sounds of rats running around and their nauseating squeaks. The animal claws scraping on the cell bricks horrified him. The taste of vomit was in his throat as he sighed heavily.
His sigh echoed.
“What’s your name?” he heard suddenly. His body stiffened with panic. He didn’t expect to hear a human voice.
“What?” The sound of his own voice frightened him even more.
“What’s your name?”
“Who’s asking?”
“An old exhausted person who has no more life. Not here, not at all.”
“Like me,” replied Mattoui.
“You sound like a young man.”
“Yes. I’m young, but my body is old. I have no more faith in life. I don’t think I’ll get out of here.”
“Oh, my young friend, faith is important. We mustn’t lose faith. Especially not young people.”
“Faith is the smallest thing I’ve lost. I lost things far greater than faith.”
“My young friend,” continued the voice, “you must be very young if you depend on things other than faith. Tell me what you’ve lost.”
