Terra Nova: An Anthology of Contemporary Spanish Science Fiction (27 page)

IV

The official name of the
center was the FarmaCom Tourist Exchange Residence, but everyone
called it “the nursery.” Some were willing to stay there and wait
until the moment when they could return to their country and earn
the rest of the money stipulated in their contract. Others wanted
to escape and become immigrants in Europe —something harder to do
than ever.

Inside the walled premises
of the residence, there were two blocks, one for men and another,
smaller one, for women. A lot of people worked there:
nutritionists, trainers, coaches, beauticians, cooks, physical
therapists, doctors, psychologists... who cared for the bodies of
the clients while they were elsewhere enjoying their vacations.
They made the exchangers go on diets, take beauty treatments, and
exercise, a lot of exercise. There were also guards armed with
electric prods and tranquilizer guns. They were the
“jailers.”

Normally, the guards
didn’t mix with the exchangers or talk with them unnecessarily. But
if one of the clients was important, they guarded his body closely,
to the point of accompanying him to the showers. They had to,
because the showers had no surveillance cameras. FarmaCom
guaranteed its clients that no one could film them inappropriately
while they were on their trip, and this included any kind of
nudity. The exchangers showered in groups of fifteen, always the
same shifts, so they got to know each other well, and as in any
consolidated group, they paid special attention to new
arrivals.

“
What the hell’s going on
with him?”

The black man, Vladimiro,
pointed to a fat man, new to the group, who was acting strange. He
had turned toward the tiled wall as if he was ashamed to be naked.
Which was ridiculous, Vladimiro thought, because it wasn’t his own
nakedness and he wasn’t responsible for how he looked. A pair of
guards, their faces covered in sweat from the humidity, didn’t take
their eyes off him.

“
The jailers told me he’s
a woman,” Ringo answered quietly and kept soaping himself
up.

“
I can’t believe
it.”

“
She’s named Leidi. She’s
from Margarita Island... Venezuela.”

“
Fuck.... How did that
happen?”

Ringo shrugged.

“
Some degenerate faggot
wanted to be a woman and check out Carribean dicks. And the client
has to have a lot of cash because the jailers won’t let her be
alone.”

The men finished soaping up in silence. Then
Vladimiro shook his head.

“
Poor girl....” He grabbed
her dick and pulled hard. “I don’t think I could stand a month with
this white wanker, but at least they didn’t give me a
cunt.”

They wailed with laughter.
The guards came over and warned Vladimiro about twisting the penis
of a client. If he did that again, they’d dock his payment.
Vladimiro raised his hands.

“
Okay, I’ll leave it
alone. I won’t touch it again.”

Ringo took the opportunity to complain
loudly.

“
And aren’t you ashamed to
bring her here? We all know she’s a woman. She should be in the
other block!”

There was a general
murmur. The looks on the faces of the rest of the group were
unmistakable: Despite what Ringo had said, they’d just learned
about Leidi at that moment. They couldn’t imagine that inside that
blushing fat man was the mind of a woman.

One of the guards put his
thumb in his weapons belt and got in Ringo’s face.

“
Don’t worry about her.
We’re here to be sure you don’t get do anything funny and rape
her.”

The other guard laughed.
Behind him, someone muttered “son of a bitch,” which was heard
perfectly. The jailer who had approached Ringo turned around. One
of the exchangers, the one they called “old man” or “Indian”
—although he didn’t look old or Indian— stared back at him without
blinking. His hands were curled into fists, and the water bounced
off his pale skin covered in blond hair.

“
What are you looking
at?”

Ringo got between the two men and said he
was going to file a complaint with the director. The guard pushed
him away, his eyes locked on Padovani. No one breathed. A male
voice, low and weepy, broke the silence.

“
Please, I’m done....
Please.”

Everyone turned toward the fat man who
seemed to be called Leidi. Then, without a word, the guards
accompanied her to the dressing room. The only one there was.

V

“We have to take her with
us.”

Ringo spoke quietly, keeping his eyes on the
cards, but glanced at the Indian Padovani and at everything that
passed in front of the cell that the two shared. The Indian threw a
card on the bed where they were seated and took another from the
stock. He hardly moved his lips to speak.

“
They guard her
closely.”

“
She can’t stand much
more, old man. She’s going crazy.”

“
What will she do outside?
Who’ll take care of her?”

“
You know who. Your
friend.”

The Indian shook his head.

“
Too many people. My
friend’s shy. In fact, I don’t think you should come with me,
either.”

Ringo swallowed.

“
That’s okay. I’ll go with
her on my own. But help me get her out of here, old man.... We’ll
fuck these jailers alive. Let them laugh their asses off. I’m sure
you’ll think of something.”

Padovani looked up at the
ceiling. The tourist he’d exchanged his body with didn’t seem
Spanish: he had blue eyes and blond eyelashes. But the fire behind
the pupils was Indian. To include Leidi in the escape plan seemed
like an unnecessary risk. She was too fat and not very agile.
Still, he got an idea that might even improve the chances of
success for all three if she came with them. In any case, he
remained cautious and didn’t promise anything.

Ringo stopped insisting,
as if the decision had already been made in Leidi’s favor. Padovani
asked himself if, after just a couple of weeks, he had become too
transparent to his cell mate. He didn’t want to have to trust a
stranger, but Ringo wanted to escape just as much as he did, and he
seemed to be a resourceful guy.

“
I’ll need some money to
find my friend.”

The Indian said that more to himself than in
hope of a reply. Ringo asked him how much money he would need.
Padovani searched through the Parcheesi pieces that they used to
bet and picked out a yellow one.

“
Less than
this.”

“
Twenty euros? I thought
you serious.”

Padovani smiled.

VI

Make virtue of necessity. That was his real
political ideology. When he had to be a revolutionary, he was the
most fervent. When he had to become a big-time rancher, he was the
most zealous about his land. And when the wheel of fate turned
again and the time came when he might lose it all, he got thin on
pure hunger until he recovered the wiry body of his youth, so he
fooled FarmaCom about his age.

It was the only way to get
out of the country. The new government’s police were looking to
lock him up the way they had Sink-Tooth. His old comrade —and later
business partner— had to be waiting for him impatiently, the same
as the few members of the organization that had freed themselves
from jail. Padovani hadn’t turned on him, but he knew that
Sink-Tooth didn’t trust his friends’ good luck, so he had more and
more enemies, real or imaginary. It wouldn’t be over until enough
people had been killed off. Better to disappear than be in that
lottery.

The Indian signed the
contract for the exchange with a fake identity —he’d bought it from
the real George Bartolomé for more money than the one thousand five
hundred euros that FarmaCom offered for exchanges— and he let an
implant from the IPv12 network be implanted in his head, and thus
had escaped both jail and Sink-Tooth at the same time. He wasn’t
going to wait until they gave him a vacating pill to go back. They
could keep his dick —if it was still good for anything— and his
butt, and they could fill them with venereal diseases if they
wanted. The Indian Padovani did not accept returns.

Faithful to his philosophy, by helping the
fat man that was a girl, Padovani would get an advantage for
himself. After including Leidi, the escape plan seemed much more
solid:

The black man Vladimiro
pretended to go crazy in the shower and began to hit himself on the
walls. The guards that protected Leidi got scared. They tried to
corner Vladimiro, and when they did, they got careless. Ringo and
the Indian attacked them from behind. They didn’t have to waste any
ammo from the tranquilizing guns to leave them unconscious. A few
punches were enough. Then, they dragged them to the dressing
room.

Leidi had gotten there
first and was already dressed. She always hurried to cover herself.
Ringo also seemed to be anxious to get the uniform off of one of
the guards. Padovani couldn’t help watching, worried that he’d ruin
everything by being nervous. Moving more calmly than his partner,
he disguised himself faster. The clothing was a little big, but he
could hide that.

After dressing, Padovani
shook the hand of every one of his companions in the shower one by
one. Then he embraced the black Vladimiro, who was still on edge
and didn’t stop laughing and saying, “Now they can fine me all they
want.”

The Indian had tried to
convince several companions to collaborate with his plan, appealing
to the motives that —he thought— would be most convincing to each
one. Until, finally, Vladimiro offered to volunteer to do his bit
in “the fight against imperialism.” The black man wouldn’t hear a
word about escaping with them, although Padovani had offered the
opportunity to him sincerely because he thought he would make a
good ally. But the only thing Vladimiro really wanted was to return
to his body as soon as he could and never leave it
again.

“
Good luck.”

That had been his goodbye. Padovani sat on
the wooden bench in the dressing room next to Leidi. While Ringo
fought with the boots, Vladimiro and the rest formed a tight
formation to hold up the unconscious guards in the center, and
shouting and joking, they left the dressing room in the direction
of the cells.

Ringo finished dressing himself and fell on
the bench, puffing. Then he smiled at Leidi and winked. He seemed
more calm. They waited while the voices of the group became
fainter. Padovani, whose true body barely sweated beneath the
scorching tropical sun, had to dry the sweat from his hands.

“
Time to go.”

They walked on either side
of Leidi as far as the stairs as if they were accompanying her back
to her cell. Together they went up to the second floor and entered
the director’s office without knocking. The Indian had planned to
be the first to speak, but Ringo acted first. Leaning over the
desk, he took out the gun and held the barrel against the woman’s
cheek.

“
Do what we say or I’ll
kill you.”

Not the least tremble in his voice or the
smallest stammer. Padovani was impressed. The director, too, but
for other reasons. Her eyes looked like they would fall out and
roll away. She moved her hand a little toward the desk, and Ringo
pushed the pistol harder against her face. She stopped moving,
paralyzed.

“
Good. Now I suppose
you’re going to understand, suddenly, that Leidi would be much
better off in the block for women.”

The director looked toward Leidi, whose fat
body was leaning on the door to the office as if she wanted to keep
someone from entering.

“
Get everything ready so
we can move her there,” Padovani added. “Don’t try anything. You’ll
be coming with us.”

Ringo moved the gun back a little. The
director took a deep breath.

“
This is ridiculous.
No...” she began to say.

The pistol hit her jaw
hard enough to chop halfway through a tree. The woman’s head fell
to one side, and Padovani felt a punch in his stomach. That had
been a gesture of sheer desperation by Ringo. If the director was
unconscious or worse, she couldn’t do anything for them.

There was a bottle of water on the desk. He
splashed it on her, and she murmured something incomprehensible. He
shook her until she opened her eyes. The Indian took the role of
good cop, which belonged to him after what Ringo had done.

“
Please, director. Do what
we say. We don’t want to hurt you.”

She closed her eyes and shook her head.

“
It won’t help you.... The
network police....”

Padovani stopped his
companion’s arm, which seemed about to finish off the job with
another blow. Then he made the director look into his eyes, and he
spoke as calmly as he could.

“
Director, I’m not going
back to my country, no matter what. You can’t threaten me with
anything worse than that.” He paused. “Do you understand what I
said? I won’t surrender.”

After an eternal instant, the director
nodded yes. Then Padovani noticed that his heart had been in a
runaway gallop for a while. His arm felt prickly. He tried to
concentrate on breathing more slowly until the heartbeats slowed
down. The hardest part was still ahead.