Authors: Vasily Klyukin
The
next three hours seemed like three days. No call came. No one came to their
hotel. No one drove out of the professor’s villa. Nothing.
“What
if he’s not home?”
“Sleeping?”
“Or
they didn’t give him the letter?”
Many
questions, no answers. Both were nervous.
“All
right, let’s think. If it’s not Link, then whoever it is would clearly have
called the police by now. The letter can be interpreted in various ways, even
as a threat.”
“That
means Link either hasn’t read it yet, or he doesn’t know how to react.”
“Or
maybe they took us for pranksters?”
Take
a look at us, we’re obviously not street riffraff. We’re too old to be simply
monkeying around.”
“Let’s
see again: if it’s not Link, anyone who got the note would call either the
police or us. Or they would get one of the staff to call, just to be on the
safe side.”
“True.”
“Then
if there’s no call, it is Link after all.”
“I
hope so. Yes, it’s definitely Link! We saw Yoshi.”
“And
how long can we wait for him to react?”
“Let’s
wait until morning. We were there around lunchtime, let’s suppose he got all
the morning papers and the next viewing, including our letter, and won’t be
until tomorrow morning.”
“All
right, we’ll wait until morning, but what do we do then if he doesn’t call?”
“Well,
tomorrow is a new day, you know.”
“If
you say so.”
Suddenly
the phone rang which made Isaac and Bikie almost jump out of their skin. Isaac
waited a few seconds to pull himself together and answered the call.
“Hello?”
“Good
evening. I’ve been handed a very strange letter from you and, to be honest, I
don’t understand a thing.” The voice had a slight nasal twang, as if the nose
was squeezed shut by something.
“A-ah,
yes, I sent you a letter.”
“Perhaps
you’ll explain what it means?”
“It
means that we want to meet you.”
“Me?
What for? I think it must be some kind of mistake.”
“No,
Mr. Link, it isn’t a mistake.” Isaac was completely confident again now. “We
put in a lot of work to find you, and we did. There’s no point in playing games
with us. You’re dealing with a couple of pretty smart young guys here. Believe
me, it would be best for us to meet and discuss everything. I recognized your
voice, I’ve listened to your lecture on YouTube, so there’s no doubt. Either
you meet with us or I post my conclusions about your whereabouts on the most
popular forums, you decide. If I’m wrong, then sorry. The police will come and
you can try to prove that you’re not Professor Link after all.”
“According
to my calculations, you should have done that a couple of hours ago. But you
haven’t.”
“But…”
“Of
course, if the meeting really is so important to you, I don’t think you’re
ready to flush the results of your work down the pan because of an hour or
two’s delay.”
“True,
but it doesn’t mean I’m not prepared to flush them down the pan at all. I quite
definitely am. If the result is negative, it can be discarded.”
“All
right,” said the voice, losing its nasal twang. “Let’s not waste time on words.
What do you want?”
“I
told you, I want to meet.”
‘I’m
afraid that’s not possible.”
“Why
not, I wonder?”
“You’re
probably in Sardinia now?”
“And
aren’t you?”
“Not
any longer. I’m in Capri. Or maybe in Corsica.”
“Won’t
you get tired of running? We found you, so we can find you again. But not just
for ourselves any longer, for everyone. How did you sneak out of the villa, by
the way? ”
“Now
that, young man, is none of your business. So let’s manage this by phone
somehow. By the way, it’s your fault I had to leave Sardinia.”
“Professor,
the questions I want to discuss are not for telephone.”
“You
mean you want to discuss something illegal with me?”
“That
depends how you look at it. I’d prefer to describe the situation as fighting an
epidemic.”
“You’ve
probably got the wrong man. I’m not a specialist in that area.”
“Well,
I think there is one epidemic where it’s impossible to find another specialist
of your level.”
“Ah,
I think I’m beginning to understand what you’re driving at young man.”
“Professor,
think about it. There are plenty of clues to your presence left at the villa.
Fingerprints, hair and all sorts of things. You’re a very visible individual.
And so is your Japanese girlfriend. How far away will you sail? Where to,
Japan?”
“That’s
enough, we can meet. My driver will pick you up at the hotel tomorrow morning
and bring you to me.”
“Straight
to Capri?”
“Straight
to me.”
After
the conversation Isaac did not feel exactly overjoyed. Finding Link should have
been a cause for celebration, but the conversation did not go well.
Bikie
nervously ran through every idea that might enter the professor’s head.
“What
if he decides to get rid of us? Poison us? Or hand us over to the police?”
He
hastily threw together a program that would send a pile of information to all
his friends at a certain moment. Or not send it, if it received the command to
cancel. He thought that would keep Link under control.
In
the morning Isaac purchased an absorbent gel used in cases of food poisoning in
a chemist’s shop. He ate half a tube of the jellyfish-like goo himself and
stuffed Bikie with it too.
“It
ought to neutralize a dose of poison or a sleeping draught,” he explained. “I’m
more concerned about soporifics.”
Bikie
laughed and said that in any case he wouldn’t accept any cups of tea or coffee
from the professor’s hands and Isaac shouldn’t either. In addition, after
inspecting the contents of his bag, he took a knife out of it and stuck in it
in his belt. Now armed, he immediately calmed down.
“He
won’t try to kill us. What’s the point? He realizes we can put out information
about him. He doesn’t know how many of us there are. I didn’t need to swallow
that gel of yours. If we found him, if means we’re not idiots, so we would take
precautions. And you pressed him hard on the phone. I liked that.”
“You
know, to be quite honest, I really feel like a drink.”
“With
that gel in your stomach?”
“Yeah,
what a bummer. Seems like we do things right, but something always gets
overlooked.”
“Drop
it. The important thing is, we found him.”
Isaac
nodded and started dashing off a text for Michelle on his mobile phone. Sensing
danger ahead, he wanted to write to someone really close to him. The morning
was already almost over, the clock showed past eleven, and Link’s driver still
wasn’t there. They decided go to the lobby and have a cup of coffee – they
needed to kill time somehow.
The
car arrived at the hotel at midday. It was an ordinary taxi. Bikie and Isaac
were just finishing their coffee. The taxi driver spoke neither English nor
French. He said they were going to Porto Cervo, smiled at all their questions
and answered in Italian. The language is very similar to French, so they were
able to understand that he had been called in a usual way, asked to pick up two
men at the hotel and take them to the sea port. It was mostly grand yachts that
moored at Porto Cervo, the driver explained. But in every luxury port, you
could also find ordinary fishing boats and smaller yachts too.
Isaac
and Bikie were met by a morose character who introduced himself as the
professor’s assistant. His dour look sat strangely with the jolly red color of
his beard and a gleaming bald patch. And his sudden appearance confused them
even more: how would Link deal with them? What should they expect?
Meanwhile,
the assistant handed each of them a package containing shorts, a tank top, and
flip-flops. There were also two baseball caps with the inscription “Sardinia”.
They
went to the nearby beach to get changed and were given a key to a locker where
they could leave their things. They looked funny. In fact, the clothes fit
Bikie, but hung baggily on Isaac. Bikie tried to conceal the knife in his
shorts but he couldn’t so he left it in the locker.
Redbeard
waited for them to get changed and led them along the quayside. Isaac examined
with curiosity the little boats and the large yachts and ships standing a bit
further off shore. They came to a rather large sixty-foot sailing yacht, old
but well-kept.
The
sail was furled, the engine running. Spots of sunlight from the splashing water
gently caressed the yacht’s side. Isaac recognized the familiar and entirely
distinctive smell of salt from sea water, heated on the metal sides of the
yacht. “That’s it,” he thought, “the genuine smell of the sea.”
“Board
the yacht, please,” Redbeard said.
They
walked across a springy gangway to where an Italian captain was waiting for
them. As soon as they were all on board, he cast off the mooring rope and the
yacht put out to sea.
There
was a slight swell and Isaac started feeling sick. The captain noticed and
handed him a pill.
“For
seasickness,” he explained.
Isaac
thanked him, pretended that he was feeling much worse, leaned over the side and
flung the pill away.
He
heard Bikie say:
“Boss,
I could do with a pill too!”
Bikie
took it, said thank you and tucked the pill in his pocket inconspicuously.
“What
for?” Isaac asked in surprise.
“Maybe
we can check to see if it’s a poison,” Bikie whispered with his lips barely
moving. “Maybe even test it on our professor. Or on Redbeard there.”
Bikie
was nervous at being left without his knife, and he felt calmer knowing that at
least he had a pill of “poison.”
The
yacht kept sailing away from the shore. The guys sat at the bow and gazed at
the sea’s blue, rippling undulations. They weren’t sailing to Capri like this.
Perhaps the professor was coming to meet them on another yacht?
Suddenly
a sharp voice behind them said:
“Well
then, congratulations! You managed to do what no one else could. You found me.”
Isaac
swung around. A short man of about sixty was emerging from a small cabin that
Isaac had thought was empty. He straightened up to his full height and the guys
immediately recognized that cunning glint in his narrowed eyes: the professor
had gazed out at them so many times from various photographs.
His
thick, back-combed hair with very marked receding temples glinted in the sun,
dividing the upper part of his head in two, which gave him a somewhat
diabolical air. Fine lines radiated out from his eyes, making his expression
cunning and good-natured by turns, and several deep furrows in his forehead
testified to exceptional intellectual capacity. He was attractive and scary at
the same time, which was exactly what Isaac had imagined the professor to be.
Bikie
reproached himself for yet another blunder. What had stopped him from looking
into the cabin as soon as they boarded the yacht?
Isaac
eventually replied to the professor in the same tone.
“I
think we really wanted to.”
“I
can see you did. Well done, well done.”
“And
I see you weren’t really in Capri?”
“Of
course, I wasn’t. I never left the villa. You’re still kids, you have a lot of
weapons in your arsenal: passion and unflinching determination. But in mine, I
also have experience and bluff.”
“That
all comes with time, but we have youth in our arsenal too.”
“Now
you’re offending me, that’s in poor taste.”
“I’m
sorry, it just slipped out. I don’t like to back down.”
“That’s
a good quality, but there is also Aikido. Why go head on, sometimes it’s better
to make use of your opponent’s energy… Would you like some wine? Local,
home-grown.”
“Professor,
why did you choose such a strange place for the meeting, on a yacht? Do you
think you’re safer here?” Isaac parried.
“No,
not because of that. I have nothing to be afraid of, and my experience tells me
that wasting nerve cells on stress causes far more harm than the actual danger
that so often fails to materialize. I enjoy fishing. Sitting there, catching
fish, thinking.
“I
booked this yacht for today last week. And I decided not to cancel it, I
thought we could talk perfectly well out here.”
“And
what if we’d been seasick?”
“There
are pills for that,” the professor said with a smile, holding out his hand,
into which the captain placed exactly the same kind of pill he had given to
Isaac and Bikie. The professor screwed up his eyes and tossed it into his mouth
with an abrupt movement.
Isaac
and Bikie exchanged glances and the professor continued.
“And
then, even if you were seasick, we wouldn’t be far from shore, the engine would
get us to port in five minutes, and we could easily talk in the evening, eating
what we catch today for supper.”
“Great!
You live the good life alright!” said Isaac, beginning to feel less tense. He
finally realized that he had achieved something incredible, even if it was only
a step on the way to his grand goal. He has found the man he had been searching
for so methodically for so long. Found him alive and well. Out of all the
people who had searched for the professor, only he and Bikie did it!”
“The
grass is always greener… That rule always applies without exception. This life
has its minuses too. I do not go to big cities, and I miss their bustle and
energy. I miss students. Intelligent listeners. I’m actually glad to see you.
I’m sick of hiding. I pass the time splendidly, but it flows along too
smoothly.
“And
so, young people, I shall listen with pleasure to what you have brought for
me,” the professor summed up. “And then you’ll tell me how you found me,” he
added, puffing on a cigar.
“The
little magic key is right there in your mouth,” Isaac thought, then he spoke
out loud:
“We
need your help.”
“You
wrote that already and I understand everything the first time around. I don’t
like it when someone tries to explain something to me for five times as if I’m
some slow-witted schoolboy.”
“All
right, I’ll try not to repeat myself. Professor, what you have created is both
wonderful and appalling. But in the future, the appalling side could become a
whole lot worse. You have created an epidemic, a ticking time bomb. The technology
you have created means that the time remaining to totalitarianism amounts to no
more than a couple of decades. We want to stop that.”
“Appalling
and wonderful. Interesting words,” said the professor, smiling wistfully. It
was a long time since he had been involved in a serious debate.
“And
you will help us do it. Help us to stop your own creation,” Isaac continued.
“Whether you want it to or not. And even if you couldn’t give a damn for your
own life, something that is really important to you can be found. Only two of
us have come, but we have allies. If necessary, they’ll find you again. So it’s
not just a matter of us. By eliminating us or handing us over to the
authorities, you’ll only gain a little time.”
“There’s
no need to threaten me, Isaac. I don’t intend to do you any harm, God forbid. I
created the technology for honorable purposes and it has brought no less
benefit to humankind than electricity.”
“But
it will inevitably lead to catastrophe.”
“An
interesting theory…continue. You’re intelligent young guys. I could have done
with more students like that. And you actually bluff quite well. Concerning the
‘group of friends’…” – the professor smiled good-naturedly – “… you’re a bit
short of practice. Tonight I will give you a book on poker, written by a friend
of mine. It was published in a small edition and is very popular with the pros.
It’s not as boring as textbooks on the theory of lying, much more popular in
style and it better describes gestures people use when they lie or tell the
truth.”
“That’s
theory, professor, but you are going to run up against the reality. Then we’ll
see how true your conclusions are.”
“Shush,
calm down please, our conversation has got off on the wrong foot. So far there
are no reasons for an argument. I can see that you’re rather hi-minded
individuals, and so am I. Let’s relax and start over again. How about some rum
and coke?” Link poured a dark, foaming liquid into a glass and added alcohol
from a dark, heavy, thick-walled bottle.
“Professor,
I’m not really in the mood for drinking cocktails,” said Isaac, pushing aside
the glass held out by Link.
Link
apparently guessed they were worried about poison and took a relaxed swallow
from the glass he had just offered to Isaac.
“For
a start, I’ve realized that you’re Isaac, right? You work out a lot, I see?”
Isaac
nodded. The worldly professor was trying to lull their suspicions with his
apparent kindheartedness, slipping compliments into the conversation.
“And,
judging from the hardline tattoos and the stubble, you are Bikie?”
Even
in the beach gear, who was Bikie and who, Isaac, was as obvious as the moon on
a clear night.
“And
I, as you know, am Professor Jeremy Link. But please, young people, just call
me Link. Using the first name is a little too hobnob for me, and Mr. Link is
way too official. So, simply Link.”
“All
right, Link. So now what do you have to say? Seven years is a long time, you’re
a clever man, and you watch TV and read the news. What’s your opinion?”
“You
want to destroy the system for gathering Orange Energy – you do understand that
we’re talking precisely about the system? It’s impossible to destroy an
operating system if it’s installed on too many computers. Either physically or
with some cunning virus. It’s a program. It is sold in thousands of shops. And
Orange Energy is a program too, a technology. I’d even call it a form of
knowledge. Knowledge is impossible to destroy if it has spread right round the
world. It’s like trying to convince people all over again that the sun is
nailed to the sky.”
“If
you want to destroy it, you have to make everyone stop using it. Make it
unpopular. And that is possible. People used to be crazy about getting a tan,
remember? Tanning salons were everywhere. But not anymore, since people just
stopped using them. In order to find the key failing, the decisive one, we have
to understand how the technology works.”
“And
this is why you searched for me…”
“Yes.
In order to destroy it, we decided to find you. As Gogol says in Taras Bulba:
‘I gave you life, and I will kill you’. We want to know everything about the
technology that you know. Its strong and weak aspects, the principles it works
on, basically everything. The plan is to destroy it, to switch it off. We’ll
figure out how as we go along. The world hasn’t been destroyed yet.”
“The
world cannot be destroyed. Sooner or later a tyrant dies. If a new tyrant takes
his place, he will die some time too. Sooner or later there is a revolution.
Even if the world goes completely to the dogs, humankind will survive in some
places, invent everything all over again, and a new surge of evolution will
begin. We don’t know what heights were scaled by the inhabitants of Atlantis if
they existed. But the fact remains that mankind survived and was resurrected,
and invented everything all over again. We fly into space, we talk to other
continents on miniature wireless devices. We’ve surpassed Atlantis, that’s for
sure. In the same way, the hypothetical crisis that I’ve created will pass off
sooner or later. Even a nuclear war, capable of reducing cities and
civilizations to dust, sooner or later will be forgotten. Life will start over
again and completely restore itself. Where will the new cradle of civilization
be? Maybe somewhere on the outskirts of New Zealand, maybe in Africa, or on
Mauritius.”