Spies

   As Michael arrives, he asks the waiter where he could find the person he’s looking for. Apparently he is on the second floor, in the terrace area. Michael is escorted there by a staff member who points at a man smoking by the railing of the terrace. There are many people around and that is something Michael had not expected but, after all, it is a very popular town amongst tourists and every single day the streets get crowded with them.

 He walks up to the man, who’s younger than he expected and asks: “Is this seat taken?”

 The young man doesn’t turn to him, still taking a look a look at the people on the square below and smoking.

-       Starting with a stupid question doesn’t make much sense.

 Michael sits down. The waiter comes and takes their order: Michael asks for a whisky, straight, and the young man asks for a “screwdriver”. They don’t say a word until the drinks come to the table. In the meantime, they both watch the people and the pigeons come and go into square. The movements are almost hypnotic. When the drinks arrive, the young man throws his cigarette over the railing and takes a sip of his glass.

-       That’s unsafe. – says Michael.

-       I think people have better things to worry about, including you. – answers the young man. - Including whatever it is we are going to talk about now.

 Michael looks straight at him, with disgust.

-       That’s a nice mouthful of crap for a terrorist.

The young man laughs. He also looks at Michael straight in the eye. It’s the look of a mad man.

-       You kill people for sport.

-      Oh, please! You do that too. Besides, it’s not sport. I’m the same as you; I have a salary and everything. The fact that I enjoy it is the only difference.

Michael doesn’t say anything.

-       Oh, so you enjoy it too?

-       What are you talking about?

The young man stops directing his body towards the railing and decides to face directly at Michael and even comes a bit over the table.

-       What do you want?

-       It was you who contacted me.

-       True. But it’s you who wants something. What is it?

-       The truth.

Michael is very serious but the young man slowly pulls back, grinning.

-       There are many truths.

-       You put a bomb on that man’s house. You killed his family.

-       And?

Total silence. Michael’s heartbeat is fast.

-       His children…

-       Yes, they died. And no, I didn’t plan for that to happen, collateral damage.

-       That’s it? - Michael slams the table with his fist. – That’s all who have to say?

 The young man takes his glass and takes a big sip of his drink. He looks around and slowly answers.

-       That’s all I will say, yes. And I bet you don’t have much to say about those drone attacks you commanded while in the army.

Michael’s facial expression changes.

-       What? You didn’t expect me to know that? Please, any decent spy would have dug that out.

Now, it is Michael who pulls back to his seat. He’s reminded of a time he thought everyone had forgotten, that people in his job at the CIA told that was behind him. Apparently a sealed file doesn’t stay sealed forever.

-       Yeah, so that’s done. – says the young man. – So, what are you here, in town? Big party coming?

-       Shut up.

-      Come on, dish. What is it? A cartel, or slaves or what. What is piercing on your brain now?

-       How is it that you are a spy? If you really are, how did you get to be one?

 Again, the young man smiles. He drink some more of the drink and turns his head towards the square.

-       I suspect we have been doing this for the same time, you know. – he smokes as he talks, pausing from time to time. – The thing is you were chosen to be a spy because you were a good soldier. I, obviously, wasn’t that.

-       Obviously.

They both smile.

-       A woman that knew a lot about all of this stuff picked me from an early age. She chose me because, in her words, because “I wasn’t noticeable”. Apparently, I didn’t stand out in a crow.

-       So you stole since you were a boy?

-       Yeah. You didn’t?

 A flock of pigeons passes over them. They both looked at the birds, with so much happening in their minds.

-       So that’s how I started. I have a face that doesn’t stick. I can be in a crowd and you wouldn’t look at me twice.

-       I would.

-       Sweet but I meant normal people. Besides you know who I am now so, it’s pretty obvious you are going to look for me every single day of the rest of your life.

-       You think you’re that important?

-       No, but you do.

 Some children yell and run on the square, scaring more pigeons. People take pictures and talk, a lot.

-       They say you don’t only kill your targets.

-       Who is “they”?

-       You fuck them too.

 The young man laughs so hard that he snorts a bit.

-       Only the men.

-       And the women?

-       I don’t kill women. I thought you would know that.

-       Why?

-       Because.

 He looks at his watch. Michael notices this.

-       Somewhere to be?

-       Nope. I’m just where I need to be. You?

-       Same.

-       Awesome. Why did you become a spy? Childhood dreams?

 Michael moves in his seat. He has never liked to talk about the subject, it makes him uneasy because it is private and he doesn’t handle private very well.

-       Sorry, too personal?

-       No.

-       I don’t care, Mike.

-       Don’t call me Mike.

-       Fuck you Mike.

There’s a silence between them. They drink the last of their drinks and the young man turns his body against towards Michael. He looks at every single feature of his face. He smiles.

-       You’re handsome, beneath that shell.

Michael exhales, annoyed.

-       You are. And I guess there’s a nice little brain inside of there. You knew I was here and no one knew that.

-       No one?

-       Nope. You are the only one that knows and that makes for a nice little relationship, don’t you think?

 He leans over the table and grabs Michael hand. He pulls back but the young man is much stronger than anticipated. The young man caresses his hand and finally says:

-       I came here to do my job, Mike. And that’s what’s I’m doing. No psychological shit today, ok?

-       What?

He leans over even more and says, in a whisper, “enjoy the ride”.

 Then, an explosion occurs in the square below. Every person in the balcony looks below but Michael cannot. The young man grabbed his arm, making him unable to move, and then punched him hard in the stomach. Then threw him on the ground and ran. Michael chases him downstairs, barely breathing. He sees his jeans running down the street and turning left but then, a second explosion happens just a few meters away. Michael is thrown to the floor again and remains there for a while.

 Later, in the hospital, he receives a big bouquet of roses that only have one white card with one symbol on it: the imprint of his lips in blue lipstick.

Acabo de despertar

   Acabo de despertar y lo primero que pensé fue: “Que excelente sueño”. Todo parecía tan bien hecho, todo era tan emocionante e interesante. Nada daba miedo ni parecía puesto allí porque sí. No sé cómo lo hizo mi cerebro. Tal vez vi algo antes de dormir que estimuló mi mente o tenía algo guardado en el fondo de mi cerebro que ayudó a la creación de lo que pude ver y sentir.

 Cuando me desperté estaba casi envuelto en mis sabanas, cosas que no pasa nunca. Un poco más y me enrollo en ellas como un cigarrillo. Personas de mi familia duermen así siempre. A mi no me pasa. Doy muchas vueltas, a un lado y a otro, pero siempre separado de las sábanas, como si yo mismo tuviera cuidado de no enredarme con ellas mientras estoy dormido. Es muy cómico o al menos así me lo parece a mí. Esta vez dormí la mitad de la noche, o eso creo, sin camiseta. Me desperté quién sabe a qué hora a ponérmela de nuevo, por el frío, y a taparme muy bien.

 Eso me gusta. Despertarme como si fuera un pequeño intermedio, estar semiconsciente y luego volver al sueño como si nada. No digo que eso sea exactamente lo que pasó pero lo sentí así y me gustó. Ahora mismo siento mucho frío y me pregunto cómo es que no me duele la garganta o algo así. Si me enfermo será culpa mía por creer que de la nada una de estas frías noches no va a ser tan fría como las demás. Me tienen un poco aburrido pero, qué se le va a hacer.

 El sueño no era nada espectacular y obviamente ya lo recuerdo todo. Creo que se trataba de alguna intriga del tipo misterioso. Alguien estaba tratando de ocultar algo y yo y alguien más tratábamos de descubrirlo todo. Parecía tan real, en serio que sí. Siempre sucede que me siento cómodo en los sueños y se ponen a cambiar tan rápido que no tengo tiempo de disfrutarlos al máximo. Puede que sean un tipo de analogía de la vida o algo así porque son muy efímeros.  ¿Será que dormí más hoy que otros días? Puede que eso haya ayudado en algo.

 Me encanta que todo parece tan personal, tan mío. En un momento camino por alguna playa de agua cristalina, pateando ligeramente el mar con los pies. Y me encanta. Y me doy cuenta que a veces me gusto más en los sueños pues me siento más valiente e incluso mejor parecido. Es una tontería, pero como puedes hacer lo que quieras en tu mente, creo que a veces mi subconsciente me da un regalito, como para que no me desanime. Después, y pasa seguido, estoy en algún edificio majestuoso, lleno de detalles que me gusta admirar pero a los que no me acerco por temor de hacer caer el fantástico castillo de naipes que construyo en mi mente. Es simplemente genial.

 Sí, lo sé. Me estoy echando flores a mi mismo. Al fin y al cabo soy yo el que hace esos sueños. Pero no se siente así y creo que es lo que cuenta. ¿Acaso no es lo máximo despertarse en la mañana y sentir que no solo estás descansado sino que también, por alguna razón, estás feliz? A mi eso me fascina y me pone de buen humor por un buen rato. No sé si todo el día pero si por algunas horas, antes de que la realidad me patee con su sus mortales piernas de karateca.

 En los sueños, otro personaje recurrente es el que me gusta llamar el conejo blanco, como el de Alicia en el país de las maravillas. Es ese personaje que está seguido ahí y que a veces no puedes ver bien o siempre parece tener la cara borrada o fuera de foco. Siempre es un misterio que la verdad es inútil porque al fin y al cabo es solo una creación de tu mente, puede que solo sea una copia de alguien que viste alguna vez en la calle o de algún amigo o de un compañero de algo.

 Pero creo que a veces está la esperanza de que, por algún medio fantástico y sobrenatural, el cerebro sea capaz de recibir, de vez en cuando, imágenes del futuro de cada persona, en este caso del mío. Que tal que ese conejo, o mejor dicho, ese hombre borroso sea el que en un futuro me va a hacer sentir lo que nunca he sentido por nadie. Que tal si mi mente ha recibido la imagen de alguna manera y ahora la guarda con recelo hasta de mi mismo, por miedo a que me emocione demasiado y quiero adelantarme a hecho que no han ocurrido.

 ¡Que loco! Lo de conejo también es porque ese personaje siempre entra y sale de mis sueños a su antojo. Cuando lo quiero ver no aparece. Es como esos personajes en las películas que ves al fondo de la escena y que parecen metidos en la trama y los ves luego de nuevo y otra vez y otra vez y entonces es difícil no imaginar que algo pasa con ello. Son ágiles para desaparecer y la mayoría de veces son solo un espejismo lejano que no dejan ni que les toques la mano ni dicen media palabra.

 Aunque hay otras veces que sí hablan, con voces que nunca podría explicar en voz alta. Hablo de ellos en plural porque no sé si es uno solo o son muchos, al fin que son muchas las veces entonces puede que no sea solo uno. ¡Que optimista soy! En fin. No solo sus voces sino lo que dicen me llega al alma. Me ponen nervioso, igual que cuando alguien que me gusta en la realidad se me acerca demasiado. Otras veces es una visión totalmente cercana, que me abraza y me besa y a la que me siento totalmente conectado. Por eso despertarme muchas veces es una tragedia, pues la conexión se pierde y ya no lo puedo ver ni sentir más. Y duele porque en la siguiente ocasión será diferente y ya no se sentirá igual.

  Hoy creo que no hubo conejo. O tal vez lo hubo pero supo mantenerse alejado de mi. Puede que mi cuerpo estuviese más ocupado lidiando con el frío exterior y con el misterio interior para ponerse a inventar más líos de los que puedo manejar. Me gusta cuando mi mente me deja caminar por ahí, entre jardines densos llenos de flores que nunca he visto o por el borde de otra playa, está cubierta de pasto mullido. A veces estoy descalzo, a veces desnudo y a veces vestido, no sé cual sea la diferencia entre las tres, que las activa. Pero no me interesa ponerme a preguntarme cada cosa que pasa porque creo que eso daña los sueños.

 Esta vez no me molestó tanto despertarme y eso que fue por alarma. Y pongo alarma porque o sino dormiría más y no tendría tiempo de escribir esto y si no escribo todo el tiempo a la misma hora, siento que el poco orden que tengo a mi alrededor se viene abajo y eso no lo puedo soportar. En mis sueños no me importa nada pero en la realidad algo me tiene que mover las entrañas, algo me tiene que hacer sentir que no todo se va a ir a la mierda y una de esas cosas que me mantiene sano son las alarmas y los horarios y el control sobre lo que pueda controlar.

 Parece un tanto psicótico, y puede que lo sea, pero me da igual. Si me sirve a mi, es lo que interesa. Ya en mis sueños puedo ser libre de verdad y dejar que todo vaya por todos lados. Puedo ser el centro de atención y sobre el que gire todo lo que tiene sentido en el mundo. En los sueños lo bonito es que tu eres su estrella principal y sin ti no hay nada. Incluso si se trata de una pesadilla, si no fuera porque estás allí, no habría manera de que fuese una pesadilla efectiva. Nadie nunca piensa en los sueños así y creo que vendría bien pues muchas personas creen que cuando duermen se someten a si mismos y no deberían pensar así, o sino fijo viene la pesadilla al ataque.

 Yo tengo algunas, a veces, y son frustrantes.  No me gusta despertarme a los quince minutos muerto del miedo y cubierto de sudor, a nadie le gusta. Pero hay que saber cómo evitarlo. No comer mucho, tratar de mantener la mente rodando y no dejar que cosas que en verdad no tienen tanta importancia te afecten el cerebro. Eso es lo más importante porque a veces nos volvemos un torbellino sin pies ni cabeza por líos sobre los que no tenemos control o que son de fácil solución. Hay que ser práctico, creo yo.

 Dormir, en todo caso, es uno de los placeres de la vida. Mucha gente dice que no duermen pues lo harán cuando mueran pero eso no es verdad porque cuando duermes estás vivo así que no es lo mismo ni de cerca. Además cuando sueñas es como si trabajaras con un gemelo en un proyecto muy especial y cuando despiertas podrías tener las claves para realizar ese proyecto u otro en la realidad. Además, los sueños son lugares de ocio increíbles, mejor que muchas discotecas.

 En todo caso, creo que amanecí contento. Y lo triste es que sé que no me va a durar mucho pero no importa. Nada está hecho para durar tanto tiempo, nada humano en todo caso. De pronto me quedaré en la cama algo más de tiempo o dormiré una pequeña siesta más tarde. Ya quiero soñar otra vez.

Corina, Silkat and the pirates

   She left all of her clothes by the shore and the slowly entered the water. The sunrays coming from both suns toasted her skin but it was not necessary because Corina already had the most beautiful skin, which she completely submerged into the ocean after a while. She felt the water cooling down her body and a certain peace of mind that she hadn’t felt in quite a while. She swam from one of the big rocks in the beach to the other. The water was not very deep and it was very clear, so much that you could perfectly see if anyone or anything was too close to you.

 Corina stopped swimming after a while and went back to the beach where she sat down on the sand, leaving her feet in the water. She had wanted to do that for so long. She had been very stressed lately and just needed to relax a while. She worked very far from there, as a nurse. Silkat was one more of the many new colonies, so she didn’t really have a lot of people to handle back in the infirmary, but Corina was ok with that too. Even with a few people coming in, she was glad to help and to learn.

 Her thoughts were interrupted when she saw something in the water. Instinctively, she stood up, stepping away from the water. The water moved again by one of the rocks and it was then she saw it: it was a medium sized creature, swimming very slowly, with not a lot of grace. Corina couldn’t tell if the creature was violent or not but she didn’t move any more than she had. She just waited to see if the creature came closer or if it was just passing by.

 The creature then jumped out of the water and landed almost in front of Corina. She almost screamed but covered in her mouth in time. She realized screaming to a creature that was double her size would not be a very smart thing. The creature looked like some old pictures Corina had seen as a little girl in storybooks. It resembled a lot to what her parents called a seal but this one was larger and its husks were smaller and its skin was light blue. And the end of its flippers, it had something like fingers.

 The creature walked towards Corina and she decided not to move. Even if she had wanted to, she wouldn’t have been able to do so because she was very scared. She even forgot for a while that she was stark naked in the middle of a beach she had just found. The creature slowly walk (maybe it had something like human feet, too) and then raised its “hands” and touched Corina.

She almost screamed but she was surprised to realize the creature was nice and warm and its skin had a nice thing about it, it felt good. It was like its skin had the power to make you feel better. Somehow, she saw the creature’s face form something like a smile and Corina responded with the same. So she had found a friend.

 Corina was about to touch the creature when something loud broke the peace of the beach. The creature apparently felt it just before because it moved quickly back into the water. Corina stumbled to the ground and saw how two men came out of the wilderness by the beach and started shooting something at the creature. It was obvious they weren’t trying to kill it but they were hurting him somehow. The men got near her and she tried to get to her clothes but another men, that she hadn’t seen, blocked her way. When she tried to run the other way, she found another men.

 The creature was caught inside a huge net that appeared to hum, like a bee. It was probably taking its energy in order to control the animal’s strength. The creature complained for a while, but then it stopped making sounds. It had died or maybe fallen asleep. As for Corina, one of the men was holding her and the other one was smelling her clothes and then threw it all to the water. They pushed her into the wilderness and made her walk for a while until they reached the water again but this time there was a boat and they made her go into it.

 Silkat was made of many islands, both big and small. They were no big continents like in other planets. The island on which Corina met the creature was next to a bigger one, where a small town called Pazu was located. The pirates, the men that took her with them, probably used another island as their hideout.

 They tied Corina’s hands with a thick rope and she was able to see that the creature was being transported on another boat, behind hers. She wondered what they were going to do with her. She looked at them and saw only men so she remembered the tales that some of the woman in Pazu had told her. They said that Silkat was not very advanced and that men ruled life in here. It wasn’t like in the rest of civilized planets. Silkat was still in the Stone Age, in that sense and also in many others.

 They reached another island when the sun was setting and they put Corina in a cage made of a strong wood. She would stay there for days, never to see the creature again. She wondered if it had been killed or if had another use for them besides food. It was very classic of her to worry about others when her own situation was not the best. She decided she wouldn’t fight unless she had a clear shot at escaping.

 But that opportunity didn’t present itself the first year. She remained on that cage for many months until they decided to put a collar on her and then make her work for them. They threatened her to activate the bomb on the collar if she ever did something wrong or if she tried to escape, so Corina had no choice but to bare with everything those men did to her. They touched her a lot, like an object of their property. They made her cook for them and also clean their boats and their clothes. She was a slave. They never gave her anything to put on her body except that collar but she didn’t really care because the weather had gotten somehow hotter.

 Every single night, when they stopped harassing her and she could just lay down on her cage, she looked up to the stars and wondered if someone was missing her at all. Maybe the people of Pazu were looking for her, although that was unlikely because she didn’t feel the town was too far. If they had been searching, they would have found her. And her family and friends abroad, they probably had no idea that she had vanished so long ago.

 Some days, most of the pirates left and left her to do her chores almost on her own, only one bodyguard with the activator on his belt. But even so she just couldn’t get herself to steal from him. She didn’t think she could win in a fight. Besides, every single day she felt less like a human been. It was as if they were draining her energy very slowly, second by second. She recalled the net they had thrown over the poor creature and how it made it weaker.

 The other thing was that she worked so hard, in so many ways, that when she was left alone she could only think about sleeping. Corina had stopped wanting real food after she realized the men treated her like a pet and just threw whatever they weren’t going to eat to her: some bones with very little meat on them, hard flat bread and some rotten fruits from the nearby trees. So she preferred to dream. And those dreams she asked, way to often, to be killed or to die fast.

 One day, after almost two years, she saw most of the pirates coming back as she was cleaning their clothes by the shore. Then, some of their boats exploded and she could hear gunfire. She tried to take a better look but her eyes weren’t what they were anymore. She could only see there were other boats there and that the fight was savage. Then, she felt someone stand behind her. It was a woman, fully clothed, with the activator on her hand. She pressed the button and Corina thought her death had come.

 But it didn’t. The activator was actually a deactivator. The pirates had never wanted to kill her. As the woman that rescued her told her some days later, “They need their slaves”. She was dragged into another boat and brought into civilization were she was cured and then asked if she wanted to remain on Silkat or if she wanted to be transferred. She thought about it for a whole day before realizing she wanted to stay to help build that society, to make those men realize they couldn’t do what they had done to her. She wanted the universe to be fair.