Chapter 10
Charles was relaxing on a beach bed, taking full advantage of the warm spring sun. From time to time, he would admire the slim figure of Sally, who had fallen asleep next to him after a swim. The past week was full of tough negotiations. All he had to look forward to was this evening’s dinner and a night spent with Sally. He was still contemplating, when Sally broke the silence and reached out to pat him on his shoulder.
"You see I was right to pretend you take a long weekend for the two of us on the Red Sea, after your meetings in Tel Aviv."
"Absolutely, my love," Charles whispered in response "and at the end I got all I was aiming for. I could not be happier about how things are panning out this year."
"I suppose I cannot ask you about what you discussed," Sally stated nonchalantly.
"Well, would it make any sense? Your friends for sure took part in the meetings. Maybe I better tell you my impressions about them, for you to report." Charles ended his statement with what he wanted to be a ironic laugh, but Sally did not appreciate it at all and frowned.
"Charles, I am starting to get fed up with your continuous remarks about me being a spy just because I am a Jew. At least I am a spy that loves you, and you should be more interested in that last fact."
"True," Charles noted, quickly regaining full control of his emotions, "as much as it is true that I am the informant that loves you and I might have already saved you from unwanted attentions from the CIA.”
“What do you mean, Charles?”
“I mean that you have been under surveillance for years, which means that I struggle every day not to tell you things you are not supposed to know, because I do not trust the affirmations I was given that you do not run any danger of being accused of espionage. You should point this out to your team, but as we are very likely being recorded right now, I will stress it again for the audience.”
Sally kept silent for a while, turned on to her back, away from Charles, and then asked aloud,
“Is this really that bad? They record each and every thing we say? At any time?”
“Well, I guess so,” Charles replied, “to some extent, we deserve it. Don’t forget that our companies make billions every year by selling to governments the skin chips and all related applications. You can’t sell guns and pretend nobody will ever have you at gunpoint. Have a look at this. Click on the CrowdWatcher icon,” Charles said, handing over his tablet to Sally.
Sally took the tablet. A map of Rome was displayed on the screen, and suddenly different shades of green and yellow started appearing along the streets. She zoomed in to see, the clouds were made of single, individual dots. She clicked on one of them, and a name with a string of data appeared.
“Those are the skin chip bearers, right? You track them down, but what does the color code stand for?” Sally asked.
“Indeed, that’s the big news. We have been able to track individuals with mobile phones since the beginning of the century, but having a chip under their skin gives you access to their emotions. You just have to measure the chemicals associated with rage, fear, happiness, and send them back to figure out what is going on. For example, whether a peaceful gathering is turning into an angry mob.”
“And of course this application is secret. It is buried into our bodies for the good of the government.”
“It is secret, but it is legal. The contract that people sign to get the chip clearly says that the government reserves the right to modify the software and to inform the bearer of any material risk to their health. Information is not material. Tomorrow we will also have the inside view of the protest, besides the usual CNN coverage.”
“Is this what the Israelis wanted? They want this technology to control the Palestinian crowds and to prevent the occasional riots in the West Bank?” Sally enquired, knowing she would get no answer.
“No, it was quite the opposite. We actually want something that they have, a kind of weapon I cannot tell you about. They let us use it from time to time, but now we would like to build it ourselves. I was just here to negotiate the terms of the technology transfer. Apparently they have found an agreement at the top level in Washington and got something in exchange, which I will ignore for the rest of my life, or at least until the secret is let out fifty years from now…” Charles’ voice subsumed, as one of the guests from the resort was walking to their spot on the beach. She was a tall, slim woman, her face showing clear Asian features yet with a fair complexion that gave her a somehow ghostly appearance. Sally greeted her first, she returned the greeting and then greeted Charles with a smile. All of a sudden, she started talking to Sally in Yiddish. Charles was so puzzled that Sally felt compelled to switch back to English for a short explanation.
“Charles, let me introduce Svetlana to you. She is from Russia, from the Far Eastern Jewish District close to Vladivostok. She can only speak Yiddish and Russian, and is now learning English and Hebrew as she has just migrated to Israel with her boyfriend. I heard her speaking Yiddish yesterday at the breakfast buffet, and she reminded of my grandparents in Brooklyn, so we started talking right away.”
Svetlana smiled as she followed the conversation. The women continued for a while in Yiddish and then Svetlana left.
“I hope you were not making arrangements for the eve of Shabbat?” Charles asked, “I am not exactly excited at the idea of spending the evening with a couple of newly-arrived immigrants who can barely speak English.”
“Well, you should at least feel a bit sympathetic,” Sally reproached, “She was just telling me how bad the situation is getting in the Russian Far East. They had to flee due to the increasing ethnic tensions. The rate of the illegal Chinese immigrants is rising by the day, Russian authorities are not able to control the border, and all minorities are being pushed out by the confrontation between the Russians and the Chinese. They moved first to Moscow, and then here, as soon as they get the chance to expatriate.”
“Um, I heard something about that in Washington last week. Apparently, Russians are seeking help from US companies that supply technology to control the Mexican border. The problem they have is the border with China is three times longer than ours with Mexico, and there are ten times more illegal Chinese migrants trying to sneak in. I think your friend made the right decision to come here.”
“You know what?” Sally continued, “She told me she was not happy at all with where she lives, in the outskirts of Jaffa. Too many Arabs, she said. They are considering moving out of Israel. It seems they have an opportunity.”
“Moving out of Israel? A couple that just immigrated? And where would they go? To New York City?” Charles looked at Sally in disbelief.
“Maybe,” he thought, “the conversation at the Shabbat meal would not be so boring after all.”
“They still do not know. They might even stay in Israel but it looks like her boyfriend got a good job offer to work for a Russian real estate company in Cyprus.”
“Cyprus….now that you mention it.” Charles suddenly connected the dots in his mind, “I remember reading some articles in the Economist, about the economy there booming after the development of the natural gas fields. Still a bit politically unstable though. If I remember well, the island is split in two parts, the Greeks on one side and on the other side…hmmm, it should be the Turks or the Arabs, I do not remember. Anyway, I will google it after taking my shower.”
Charles stood up, took his towel and started walking towards the cabanas. Sally waited a few seconds, and then followed him.
The Last Enemy - Parts 1,2 & 3 - 1934-2054 Page 56
