Читать книгу The Slave - Luigi Passarelli - Страница 9

A few days later his brain, or more specifically his frontal cortex had got used to the intruder which had been placed there. He received a phone call from the other student of the same age, who had managed to get his number from a mutual friend. They were allowed to meet.

It was the middle of the morning and the two friends met up in front of their old school, which was closed.

A sense of nostalgia took over both of them. Basically everything had gone well.

Their first words to each other were about their school days and their shared experiences. They didn't have any idea about what was waiting for them at the end of the summer. They were both a bit offish with each other, typical boys. They both pretended that they did not trust what they had been told or the rumours that they had heard.

Generally in this kind of situation a sort of one-upping competition would take place, improvements and various possible privileges that they could gain in the future. Some would say that their life would be better, they would be richer, happier etc. and some would say the exact opposite. The one thing that is certain however is that none of this ever comes about due to their own personal choice. But all of the hopeful students hoped that the Programme would be kind to them, and that this kindness would be more influential than their studies and their test results.

He took his first steps in the direction of Container B1 and his friend followed.

“Listen... Have you bought anything yet? I haven't. If you want I can check your account and you can check mine. My father says to always keep an eye on it and to be careful about what you do and what you think. Are you scared?”

Ivano pointed his mobile phone at his friend's forehead as he had been asked to and was very surprised to see a figure which was three times higher than his own. He didn't make anything up but he refused to allow his friend to check what he was worth.

“Why not? I will let you see the display. You can even do it yourself, I will give you the phone and you can delete the data when you are finished. You know how to do it don't you?”

Ivano convinced himself, he actually wanted to check himself, to know once and for all.

He took his friends phone and checked how much he was worth. It told him what he already knew.

He didn't delete the figure from the phone and feeling a bit ashamed he gave it back to his friend who reacted with a mixture of compassion and disgust.

“My father was right,” he said.

Ivano told his friend about an ethics lesson he remembered: once you reach maturity you are able to drive a hydrogen car. On the road you have to be precise and disciplined. However, you need a good amount of luck as well. If a tree falls in front of you or someone else makes a mistake you could end up dead and it would not be your fault at all.

“But mine is not just luck. It is down to merit. Calculated merit.”

Ivano said that basically the secret was to make simple things complicated.

His friend told him to be quiet and not to say things like that any more. There would be no more secret words or shortcuts, they were not allowed. It was time to put up and shut up. It was all down to merit. Just like him.

His friend remained silent for a while until he blurted out something about how if Ivano carried on saying things like that he would have to report him to the authorities.

Ivano was not exactly surprised at the fact that the two of them had not spoken to each other for five years.

In any case, it reassured him. He thought about how he could triple his credits. It would need tactics.

The two of them walked along in silence, crestfallen, each with his own thoughts being probed by the microchip.

Ivano was thinking about when he went to visit his grandfather at the retirement home. His grandfather had fought in the last war. He was posted at a missile silo. He had seen a little of the world, even if it was mainly through the servers and satellite scanners, the little that he was allowed to see anyway. That one time he visited his grandfather, he had hardly told him anything, but he had wanted to know everything. The war had taught him that a sunrise and a sunset can look the same through pained and experienced eyes. He had now become convinced that there was no realistic way to enjoy life. Too much input on either a microscopic or a macroscopic level can affect our conscience. And the strongest factors, which are the ones which affect us for ever, are always the negative ones. There was no getting away from it. Don't fool yourself Ivano, don't fool yourself, you won't make it either.

Anyway, the memory of his grandfather was interrupted when he received a message on his mobile: activity not allowed!

Already! They had now arrived in front of their destination. They both smiled and said that it was strange that they had never noticed it before. It was only now that they realised that this cube which had no real windows, only virtual ones was a Container. The friend said that he had walked past it several times without even realising it. They both felt pride in their chests. They wanted to go up to the entrance, hoping that it would be open. They were disappointed.

There was a three metre tiled garden around the building along with a slightly larger space in front of the entrance which had two staircases.