Tears in Rain (43 page)

“Four o’clock.”

“I’ll cancel the robot. I’ll tell it to make the delivery tomorrow afternoon,” he grumbled, pointing his finger at her.

“It’s up to you,” growled Bruna as she left.

Nobody saw her out and she became lost in the rambling corridors. It took her forever to find the main exit, and another eternity to make her way through the tight and ever-growing crowd packing the street. When she managed to reach the opposite sidewalk, she leaned against the wall and vomited.

“Repent, sister! The world will end in four days,” trilled an Apocalyptic next to her.

She threw up again. That damn migraine was killing her.

H
ericio, somewhat disconsolate, stood gazing at the door through which the explosive Annie Heart had disappeared. It was tough to renounce ten million Gs, especially now that they needed to move to better headquarters and acquire the level of representation that their new leadership role demanded.
But principles are principles
, he told himself emphatically, and the fact that he had been capable of choosing glory over despicable money made him feel lofty. His eyes suddenly became moist, an emotional tearfulness brought on by his own greatness.

Then he heard a very soft sound behind him, a rustle of clothing or a footstep, and he knew that Ainhó was there, that she’d come into his office through the back door. Her inopportune entry irritated him, and he cursed himself for having given her the access code; what was he thinking at the time? He blinked a few times in an attempt to rid his eyes quickly of tears, repressed his bad humor and turned around. Ainhó, arms folded, was smiling at him.

“This mania of yours for coming and going like a ghost is beginning to annoy me,” said the politician, without being able to avoid a touch of acrimony.

“You used to welcome my coming to see you,” Ainhó replied, without losing her smile.

“Did I? Perhaps. But now I’m too busy. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the situation has changed. Now I’m the solution, the renaissance, the future. People expect great things from me, and I’m going to deliver.”

And as he was saying
people
, he swept his hand through the air in a broad, majestic gesture that seemed to take in the fake window, the virtual city visible through it, and even the whole world. Ainhó laughed.

“Have I noticed? My dear Hericio, I’m the one who’s put you there!”

“
You
? I’ve been in politics for thirty years!” replied the man indignantly.

“Thirty years of exclusion from parliament.”

“That’s a—”

“Okay, fine, I withdraw it. And I ask your forgiveness. I don’t want to argue with you. Let’s enjoy some peace and quiet. Friends?”

Ainhó extended her hand, but Hericio was still too irritated.

“Friends?” she had to repeat.

There are few things as awkward as ignoring a person with an outstretched hand, so the politician relented and shook it, though reluctantly and with a wry face. Then he went and sat behind his desk. The desk was imposing, and the chair very tall; they made him feel powerful, and he wanted to overwhelm his visitor.

“So, I’ve already told you I’m very busy. Why have you come here? What do you want?” he grunted.

Ainhó delayed her response until she had sat down in a chair opposite the politician. Then she crossed her legs in a matter-of-fact manner and smiled again.

“Let’s just say it’s a courtesy visit. I’ve come to congratulate you on how well things are going for you, and to see how you are. How are you, Hericio?” she asked with what appeared to be genuine interest.

“Fantastic...ahem...although I seem to be...I’m losing my voice.”

And now this
, thought the supremacist, lifting his hand to his throat. He was becoming increasingly irritated.

“Aha! Losing your voice—so I hear. Returning to what we were saying. Don’t you recall that I told you I’d make you famous? That I’d take you to the center of the political stage? That I’d turn you into the man of the moment?”

“I...don’t...”

“You do, Hericio, you do. Back then you really were interested in what I had to say. We agreed that I’d mount an operation, a campaign to boost your image out there, and that of your party. You didn’t want to know what the campaign would involve, and that was the right decision. In any event, I wouldn’t have told you.”

“I—”

“Wait a minute. Forgive me for interrupting you. If you don’t mind, I’m going to take this off.”

Ainhó pulled back the right sleeve of her jacket a little and, grabbing hold of a bit of skin at her wrist, pulled downward and peeled the skin off her hand. It looked as if she was removing the skin, but in reality, she was taking off a very fine transparent dermosilicon glove. She carefully put the object into an airtight bag and sealed it.

“Phew, that’s a relief. No matter what they might say, you end up being allergic to these things. Getting back to what we were discussing, I want you to know that you form part of a vast operation. You thought you were hiring me, you thought that ridiculous amount of money you gave me was paying for a publicity campaign...You poor devil. I wasn’t working for you; rather,
you
were working for
me
. You’re my work, I’ve created you. And you’re nothing more than a pawn within a grandiose master plan. So grandiose that it would never fit inside your pea brain. Nothing to say?”

“...”

“I see. I’d like to think that you’re silent because you’re embarrassed by your own stupidity, but I fear it’s the result of the neuromuscular block I transmitted to you earlier through the glove when we shook hands. Contact poisons are incredibly ancient; they were used during imperial Roman times, the Middle Ages, the Renaissance. In these hypertechnological times of plasma guns and penetrating shots of nitrogen, I thought it elegant to resort to something classical—with a touch of modernity, of course. It’s tetrapancuronium, a stronger, synthetic version of curare. An instant and devastating toxin. You become paralyzed within seconds, as you’ve been able to verify. You’re unable to move. But you are able to see, hear, and feel. Within twenty minutes, the toxin paralyzes the respiratory muscles and the victim dies of suffocation. But don’t worry, we won’t get to that point. Everything clear so far? Any questions?”

“...”

“Ha-ha, forgive the tasteless joke. And forgive me as well for spying on you before when you were talking to Bruna. Well, you think she’s Annie Heart, but in reality her name is Bruna Husky and she’s a replicant! I’m sure that would make you shudder if you weren’t paralyzed. Don’t you find it repugnant that you received her here, in your own office? That you conversed with her so amiably? That you lusted after her? Because I’m sure you desired her...so blonde, so hot, so voluptuous. Well, you and that rep said something very interesting—that the cause needs a martyr. And it’s true. You’re both right.”

Ainhó calmly stood up and removed a sizable imitation leather sheath from the inside pocket of her jacket. It contained a large butcher’s knife. She walked around the desk with the knife in her hand and approached the paralyzed Hericio.

“It’s nothing personal. And I’m not one of those people who enjoy doing this sort of thing. No. But it’s what has to be done, and I’m going to do it. Because I’m absolutely clear how far we have to go. And I’m also clear which path to take. As you can
see, I’m going to use the knife now. Again, a traditional weapon. Much less elegant than poison, of course. But even older. Basic. Look, you’ve had the misfortune of landing in the middle of history’s stampede, and that’s why you’re going to be trampled. I’m sorry, but you’re the ideal martyr. Moreover, your martyrdom has to be outrageous. Spectacular. That’s why I’m doing this...and this...hmmm, I’m trying to be quick, but it’s not that easy, believe me. And on top of everything else, the wound stinks...yuck. Nearly there. I think I might make another cut here...Aha! And now, I’m removing the intestines with the tip of the knife...That’s it, good, it looks terrific. It looks quite a lot like the threatening hologram Myriam Chi received. Remember what you were saying a short time ago? That business of the greater good far outweighing one small act of evil? Well, you’ve been my small act of evil for today, my poor Hericio. But wait, it can’t be, are you moving an eye? Oh, no. No need for concern. It’s only a tear.”

H
e ought to have been pleased, because it was the reply he’d been looking for when he sent his memorandum, but Yiannis was in fact feeling nervous and intimidated. He had always been an orderly person, a meticulous and legalistic type, so breaking not one but two major administrative regulations was something that made him feel quite uneasy, despite the fact that he’d broken them knowingly. Moreover, the response had been much more immediate than he had expected, and that also heightened his anxiety. Less than an hour after he’d sent the memorandum, his supervisor’s secretary had already summoned him to an urgent meeting. And it wasn’t a holograph meeting but a meeting in person, something truly inconceivable. And on a Saturday to boot! So now here was Yiannis, sitting on an extremely modern sofa in the supervisor’s antechamber, waiting to be received. He’d been waiting almost an hour, despite the secretary having told him to get there quickly. Of course, it could be premeditated, a tactic designed to wear him down and make him more nervous. And if that was what they were trying to do with this long wait, he had to admit that it was working. Yiannis stirred in his seat, and the sofa rocked gently in the air like a cot. Damned designer furniture.

“Yiannis Liberopoulos? Mrs. Yuliá will see you now.”

Finally. The archivist followed the young woman who had come for him. She had a line of hair running down her long neck
like a brush, in the Balabí style. Alien hairdos were very fashionable among young Earthlings, so now they all looked like horses with cropped manes.

“Come in, come in, Yiannis, my friend. Please sit down.”

Yiannis, my friend?
It was the first time in his life that he’d seen the woman. He hesitated momentarily, not really knowing where to seat himself, as the room was decorated in the latest minimalist style, with ethereal furniture that was barely visible. He finally opted for a line of bluish light and sat down on it with some trepidation. The line adapted itself to his body and provided support for his back. The supervisor was sitting in a similar chair behind a semitransparent table that merged with an enormous round screen. The decor must have cost a fortune. The Central Archive, one of the most powerful of the USE institutions, was owned by PPK, a huge private corporation, although the Central Planetary State had full voting rights on its board of management. And there was no question the archive was a fantastic business, since all the citizens on Earth had to pay a fee each time they accessed its resources.

“I have read your memorandum and in the first instance, I want to thank you for your interest and professional zeal. Because I’m sure you were motivated by the best of intentions. But you’ll understand, in the whole time I’ve been in this position, no one has resorted to emergency protocol CC/1. I don’t know if you’re aware that when this protocol is activated, a copy of your message is automatically sent to the state’s central administration. And to be honest, we all find that very tiresome. Government officials will now turn up, and they’ll carry out an investigation.”

“But that’s fine, that’s perfect. We need the USE security services to investigate the irregularities as a matter of urgency.”

The supervisor turned her head to one side like a bird and fixed her eyes on Yiannis. She was a skinny, wiry woman with small, hard eyes that rarely blinked.

“Oh, Yiannis, Yiannis. Either I’m not explaining myself well or you’re not understanding what I’m saying. Your memorandum was a mistake. An error. A case of overzealousness, to be precise.” She was speaking gently, as if she felt sorry for the archivist, but there was a sharp edge to her voice.

“Overzealousness? But how? Have you actually read my memorandum? And the other documents? It’s undeniable that someone is manipulating the entries.”