by Al Cooper
As she dressed in the clothes they had left on her bed, couldn't avoid to feel a tingle at the thought that that night she would be able finally to speak alone with Clerigan, so he would get dispelled all her doubts and fears. Neither she couldn’t deny that she was attracted by the fact to dine with her lifelong platonic love in that dreamy environment. The more she thought about it, the more she was convinced that dinner would be very special in every way. Then Hanson came to her mind, clouding all her thoughts. She couldn't let the emotions of the past seized her to the point of dominating her. While ancestry that Clerigan produced on her was undeniable, it was no less undeniable that at last she seemed to have found a man to occupy the place in her heart that had long belonged in silence, in complete anonymity, to the professor. In such situation she would have liked to be alien to reality, but she couldn't afford it.
Somebody knocked on her door. It was a mulatto woman, about fifty-odd years, that Clerigan had already introduced her. Arguably, it was her housekeeper, she was responsible for tidying the house and cooking, aided probably by some Indians. Sena, that was her name, told her by signs that the time had come. She looked in a mirror, a luxury at that site, and concluded that the dress suited her phenomenal. It was definitely her size, it suited her like a glove. Just she didn't understand its origin, unless Clerigan had a female visit from time to time, what seemed to her very complicated. She descended the stairs accompanied by Sena, but not without some difficulty. Then Sena pointed to a lounge. She came in.
As she entered the lounge remained absorbed in assessing its magnitude and charm. The colonial style was there at its best. Very spacious, closer to a dance hall than a dining room, equipped with a long table in the center on which were ready two places for dinner on the ends and decorated with candelabras and abundant sources with all kinds of fruits. Handmade chairs with beautiful scenery in the backs and some rustic furniture from the same source. Kelly thought that whoever was their author had a very good taste. It was particularly striking an object at the end of the room, which passed almost unnoticed by merging with its surroundings, as if it was a piece more of furniture. As she was close enough, could make sure it was a surprisingly small vertical piano, just over a meter high and two meters deep. An unexpected touch of glamour and romanticism in the middle of the jungle. She remembered that Clerigan loved music, surely that little luxury was much more than a beautiful decorative object. She found the keyboard and couldn't resist the temptation to put some fingers on keys. The sound, magnified by the echoes, broke the silence in a way as deafening as solemn to the point of shaking her.
Then, as she looked at the paintings that decorated the walls, she remained ecstatic, especially when she laid her eyes on one. It showed a woman wearing a vintage dress very similar to hers, a lace parasol, gloves and a beautiful hat that extolled her majestic bearing. It was a portrait of a beautiful woman. Then she noticed another painting next to the previous one, it seemed the same woman but when it was a girl of only twelve years. Engrossed and absorbed in her inspection, she didn't realize the figure of Clerigan, who decided not to interrupt her, until after a while he could not avoid to make an observation.
- Do you like painting?
Hearing the voice of Clerigan, Kelly jumped significantly, so she had to take time to get well and respond.
- It's great. That picture is fantastic. But what strikes me is the distinction and beauty of this woman. Who is she? ...
- It's Martha, my wife. - Clerigan said with sorry aspect - or, rather, was. I brought her picture, I can't live without it - he paused - that is, without her.
- Yes, I heard what happened by the newspapers. You must have loved her a lot.
That affected in an obvious way to Clerigan, who, with his head down and visibly upset, began to walk about without sense, while he answered slowly.
- You can't imagine how much, my lovely lady. If I am here, in some way is because her. In fact, she's still with me, always present.
At that moment entered Sena, the housekeeper, to serve dinner. It was the perfect excuse to Clerigan got well. He did a gesture with his hand to Kelly.
- But please, sit down. I hope you enjoy this humble meal we have prepared in your honor and, if possible, of my companionship.
- With pleasure - Kelly replied as she sat aided by Clerigan -
Kelly felt a strange feeling when Clerigan sat to the other side of the table. Some scenes from old movies came to her mind, she had never imagined that one day would have the opportunity to dine in one of those long and endless tables that she thought only existed in the stages, and less in such companionship, neither even years back, when she had been madly in love with her professor.
Sena began serving Kelly, who, dazzled by the environment, was still looking around trying to make sure she really was living that moment. Clerigan realized that Kelly wasn't comfortable yet at that stage and decided to intervene.
- I hope you feel like at home. I have to admit that, in fact, I'd love that it was yours, at least for a while.
Kelly didn't know whether to interpret his words as an unforeseen, unexpected and belated declaration of love, the truth is that Clerigan was beginning to surprise her.
- I am anxious to know some details, professor. I hope you forgive me, is my way of being, I recognize that sometimes betrays me, but I need some answers. Tell me ... how could you have built such wonderful palace in a place like this? I guess you’ve needed some help ...
- Some, yes - smiled - I brought from North America three full confidence persons that gladly embarked on this project. Nobody is searching them, because they are very lucky to not be known or that nobody miss them. Then, once here, in Brazil, we've slightly expanded our staff.
Although Sena, surely, not found out anything about their conversation, Kelly was relieved as, once served the table, she withdrew. Then she decided to ask an unarmed question. From her room, she had noticed how a white man came in and came out from the house with a rifle in his hand.
- But the mission of your people is not only peaceful, right? - As soon she saw Clerigan's face of surprise she decided to refocus the question - I mean, part of your people are dedicated to other tasks ... I guess they are also a kind of ... guards ... would be the right word? ...
- Well, I would not call them that. Especially Pete, my right arm, is everything to me. Believe me, relegate him to the role of guard as you say, would be an offense for him.
- What about the rest?
- Not everyone here is driven by an altruistic spirit. Following your own vocabulary, which I must admit that I find inappropriate for the occasion, perhaps we could define them as ... - sipped wine and smiled again - mercenaries, ie luxury mercenaries.
Once fired the kick-off, Kelly decided that she should not turn back.
- What about the Indians? ...
- This is a kind of symbiosis, my friend. They help us in certain tasks, in turn, don't lack anything.
Kelly remembered then the scene of her capture. She could not forget that Ukekeni had been killed by a spear in the ambush, so she jumped as if moved by a spring, indignantly.
- Tasks? Is in that so simply way like you label their warlike activities, the same activities that have killed one of our guides?...
Clerigan looked at her carefully, surprised by her reaction.
- Kelly, sometimes they make mistakes so they don't follow the script that we have commissioned them, that's all.
Kelly was shocked, she really expected another answer for banishing from her head forever the idea that Clerigan had nothing to hide, but instead she had found someone unmoved, cold, distant.
- Nor work, nor scripts! I rather call them dirty jobs, such as capturing young people from other villages or use them against us.
Clerigan realized that Kelly was no longer the naive academic who came to his office for advice. He took another
sip of wine, trying to reflect. Then he changed his mood, he turned serious and spoke with such degree of sufficiency that scared to her former student.
- You are going too far in your views and jumping to conclusions, Miss Adams, you still need a lot of information. My project can't stop in such trifles.
- Do you call "trifles" to the fact of playing with the will of persons?
- I call as trifles all the little efforts that are justified to achieve a great goal.
Kelly thought it was time. Clerigan was handing it to her on a plate and her impatient and eager character didn't allow her to wait any longer, so she was decided to ask the question that was boiling in her head since she had found him, or, more accurately, since he had found her.
- Well ... I think we have reached the key point - she paused a while because Clerigan fixed his gaze on her to the point of making her feel uncomfortable - What are you working on? .. You disappeared right before delivering the second part of the Human Genome Project.
- My team already had that information a few months before. Do not worry, in that sense we didn't miss anything at all.
- And what about Owen? He disappeared about the same time as you. But a few weeks ago was found floating in a dock.
Clerigan lowered his head and took a deep breath before answering.
- Believe me, I'm sorry. Owen and I were more than colleagues, friends. He had as much or more interest than me in all this. Also embarked on this adventure, he was deeply involved, but I think the weather did not suit him well - he paused to take another sip of wine - he finally went crazy until one day he decided unilaterally to leave, without previous notice. We were stunned – as he observed the silence of Kelly, he decided to give her a dose of her own medicine. - By the way, I also I have a question for you.
- Go.
- How is it possible that one of the brightest students I ever had, had chosen to accept a job at the FBI? - Kelly froze, could not assume that Clerigan was aware - How is it possible that for more than a year you haven't published any new article on your interesting projects? ... Tell me Kelly, give me a coherent explanation, I will be willing to accept it.
- But ... you ... how is that possible?...
- I told you I was aware of what was happening beyond my paradise, better informed than you could imagine.
- Well ... you know very well that I love research, but my new job allows me to see things from a new point of view.
- What? The view of being the monitor of your own peers? Or perhaps the view of limiting, putting barriers to their progress? - emphasized Clerigan as he raised significantly his voice -
- None of them. I limit myself to verify compliance with the law.
- Does the law? What law? The only laws that should guide scientists are those of nature.
She remembered having heard more than once that sentence, in fact it was one of the favorites of Clerigan, who began to seem a little to the one that she knew, at least in the form of exposing his ideas. His vehemence eventually got to decenter Kelly, whom seemed to be back, sitting listening again his classes in college. It was hard to her overcome the impression of being in a state of inferiority to his former teacher. She had to tell herself that neither Clerigan was the same, neither she and that her situation there had nothing to do with any old status anchored in the mists of the past.
- We are scientists, but not moralistic, but each and every one of us have formed our own opinion. It is society that decides on the basis of criteria and moral values. My duty is, among others, make sure they are enforced. - Kelly finished to said sententiously -
- What values are referring, Kelly? To those that have been set by the politicians? ...
- I think the opposite, namely that are politicians who are sensitive enough to echo the general sentiment of the citizens.
- Citizen is an abstract entity, whose weight is limited to a vote. Finally are politicians who decide, do not forget. - Clerigan said sententiously -
- It seems obvious that we have different views about the same topic.
- I hope to convince you, what's more - paused again to hurry to finish his glass of wine - I am quite sure that, when you are thoroughly familiar with my work, you are going to change drastically your mind and you'll finally agree with me and my reasons.
It was Kelly who took this opportunity to ask once again for the question that had remained unanswered previously.
- Professor, tell me now, please ... I beg you ... what is your line of research? If you have come here and have taken so much trouble is because you want to keep it secret.
Clerigan suddenly got up from his chair and began to walk from one side to another, visibly excited. Then he began to speak very slowly, emphasizing every of his words.
- All this stupidity of governments, trying to put walls to the countryside ... dictating moral rules at odds with the scientific reality, rules that only a few fulfill, forcing scientists to set themselves up as judges of good and evil, to rule on behalf of God ... - Kelly stood rapt listening again, she reminded Clerigan master classes, but she also was thinking that this time he was going too far - perhaps we are not able to dictate the laws of nature, but we are able to change our own destiny. This is a new Renaissance, the man capable of generating life, able to approach God, someone had to.
Kelly was astonished. The speech of Clerigan no longer belonged to him, but rather to a visionary, someone who was beyond good and evil. And if she had correctly interpreted, it corroborated her most dire presumptions, those that always she had wanted to banish from her head. Kelly began to stutter as it was the time for pupil to judge even to correct his teacher.
- What ... do you... do you ... pretend to say?... What kind of experiments are you doing?... Perhaps you're practicing with stem cells back to the scientific community?...
- Stem Cells? Ah, yeah, very interesting, no doubt. We have made great progress in this field, especially to correct certain defects ... in our main research line.
Kelly observed like Sena entered the lounge, and it was then when, instinctively, as she was withdrawing her platter, turned her eyes toward her belly. She was pregnant, just as the women who had attended her the previous day in the hut, with the notable difference that Sena would already be close to menopausal. A sinister idea began to take shape in her head. When the maid came out, Kelly barely had the strength to ask the question.
- Clerigan, do not tell me ... that woman pregnant ...
- Good deduction, expected no less from you! Yes - he paused to pour another glass of wine - I assure you that the males of the village fully satisfy their sexual desires, not what we prevent. Remember ... we are scientists, but deep down we are also human ...
Kelly remembered the conversation she had had one night, the firelight, with Hanson. The attitude of Clerigan, someone who had always been in the last and highest step of Olympus, someone that for her was closer to the myth that the reason, was merely ratifying their views on the human specie. A specie capable of anything to gain supremacy, able to use science in its profit to get the most gruesome ends. At that moment she felt an enormous contempt for humans, customized in Clerigan figure. She felt nauseous. Clerigan observed her condition and came to her with the intention to help her up. It was not necessary, Kelly got it by herself, but at times felt sweat and dizziness.
- Emotions are too strong even for a woman like you - Clerigan beckoned to the maid to accompany her to her room - for today is more than enough.
Kelly returned to her room accompanied by Sena. She was so affected that arguably was submerged in a state of shock. As the housekeeper closed behind her the bedroom door, Kelly laid on the bed and remained inert, locked, unable to articulate the most single thought. Only temporarily was out of her state as she heard the piano chords that reached every corner of the house. She didn't understand too much about classic music, but the piece seemed
familiar. It was "Dream of Love" by Franz Liszt, romantic composer. One could tell that Clerigan played with passion each of the notes, as if his life was in the endeavor. Perhaps it was a way to feel a little closer to his missed and so longed Martha, while giving vent to his mood. A few minutes later it was complete silence followed by the monotonous sound of footsteps that revealed someone coming up the stairs and the sound of a door opening and closing.
Kelly remained sunk in such state for more than three hours. Then she was slowly regaining the lucidity of mind needed to try to put some order in her head. She had no doubt that Clerigan was the same in many ways. His theatricality, his staging seemed to be the same, some of their ideas too. However, the Clerigan that she had known, even though she had always perceived in him certain flashes of anarchism, had never been outside the law and much less had defended at all costs so controversial stance, playing with life as a child with a gun. He should have a reason to get so far. Ambition? It was a possibility, she had heard him to say more than once that any good scientist should first be ambitious, but not to the point of putting into question his moral values. Power? Clerigan had never given much importance to money, despite spending more than he earned. Vanity? By the way he usually expressed, it was easy to deduce that he had always enjoyed of a high degree of self-esteem, but she didn't believe him capable of falling into such defect, for very human that he was.
