ELEVENTH AVENUE, IN FRONT OF THE SATELLITE AGENCY HEADQUARTERS
WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 17, 8:12 A.M.
After turning off the engine of the blue compact 08.09, Adam stayed inside the car for a few seconds, watching the Orbit II tower that stood in the opposite corner. How beautiful it would have been if a meteor had fallen at that moment and completely demolished the building!
He wasn’t so lucky, though.
He sighed, and with a mixture of fury, helplessness, and anxiety, opened the door and got out of the car to face his destiny.
The sun was only unfolding the first beams of light, and the shadows were not yet swept away.
The freshness of the recently deceased night ran freely through the city, and an icy caress scratched Adam on the belly. Was that his anger in operation or the curried rice from the night before that ended the digestion circuit? He only hoped he wouldn’t suffer a misfortune during the trip to Black Plateau; he couldn’t afford the humiliation of having to ask to stop at a gas station and rush out of the car in search of a bathroom.
He patted his abdomen and hoped for everything to go well. Call off the trip because of that was not an option. He had to accomplish a task and he would do it now; postponing it would only prolong his agony.
“Good morning,” the parking meter robot said. “Would you be so kind as to announce to this unit how long you plan to be absent?”
“I don’t know,” Adam replied.
“I am sorry. That is an answer I cannot compute,” the robot replied.
“You can go into that building,” he pointed out, “and ask Rune Halstein. You can also charge him.”
“I am sorry. That is another answer that I cannot compute.”
“Fine. I’ll be back in an hour or two.”
“Thank you. Two hours of parking will be debited from your bank account. If there are insufficient funds, you will be provided with…”
Adam left the robot talking to himself and moved on.
Malin got out of the car and sheltered herself from the wind by putting her denim jacket over her black sports T-shirt. She pushed her bangs away from her face, looked at Adam, and found the same expectant expression she knew she had, one that asked, ‘So, are you ready?’ They both nodded without a word and crossed the street; they were still somewhat embarrassed by the kiss of the previous afternoon.
Since they had returned from the desert, neither of them had wanted to stray too far from the other, perhaps as a way of giving themselves moral support for that morning’s mission, and that’s why they had decided not to move from the apartment. They hadn’t wanted to spend more time together than necessary, though. The shared minutes had been filled with silences, silly comments that had no other purpose but to fill that space; excuses for not looking at each other, such as dining in different parts of the kitchen, and more excuses to decrease the chances of bumping into each other in the apartment, such as staying in their own room.
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As they crossed the street, Adam noticed Malin’s high-heeled boots. Wouldn’t it have been better if his partner wore something more practical? How much could she do in the middle of the jungle when those heels got stuck between trees’ roots and mud? But, hey, he didn’t want to say anything. Besides, the boots were a kind of trademark for her.
He had also had a style until not so long ago: any clothes that made him look cool and fashionable. This time, he had weighed comfortably before vanity, donning a sports T-shirt similar to Malin’s, but white, with a green and yellow tracksuit set to move easily through the bush.
“Do you think I’m well dressed?” he asked Malin. “I mean, isn’t it very casual?”
She rushed her steps to leave him behind.
“Talking nonsense to avoid feeling uncomfortable was yesterday’s thing,” she said, not looking at his face.
Adam held up his hands in peace. That morning, emotions were running high.
Two state-of-the-art off-road cars, black and with tinted windows, were parked one behind the other next to the building, their silent engines running and their position lights on. They were unmarked, not even branded on their hoods or tails, though Adam didn’t need them to know they were Black 20.18s, a somewhat obvious model name, from the Mayo company. Working for Homam Enterprises made it easier for him to know these things, although they were of no use at that moment.
“Well, at least they went for the Black model. Gray would have been too much,” Adam commented.
A man in gray was waiting for them, leaning on the hood of the first vehicle, with his legs crossed. When he saw them arrive, he finished smoking his cigarette and threw the butt on the pavement.
Adam noticed the agent’s dark glasses. Sunlight still didn’t represent a nuisance to the eyes; was it necessary for the guy to wear them already?
“I didn’t know we were going in a caravan,” he said to him.
“The District Chief will be here soon. Get in,” the man in gray announced and climbed behind the wheel.
“We’ll wait for Halstein out here. Thanks,” Malin said.
Adam stayed with her, even though he would have liked to go up; to remain outside was to be at the mercy of the eyes of those who were in that second vehicle. The car’s windshield bore some resemblance to the black window in the White Box of Surprises, from where Halstein and Dr. Gabor had witnessed his poor performance with the target the previous morning. And speaking of the hateful Gabor, was he in that second car? Would he accompany them to Black Plateau? He tried to peer into the dark tint of the glass, but after the first attempt was futile, he dismissed the idea. Then he lowered his head; if he couldn’t see the faces of those who went there, he wouldn’t allow them to see his.
Rune Halstein walked out of the building’s front door.
“And speaking of ridiculous clothes…” Adam murmured.
The sturdy District Chief wore a black silk suit with the jacket all buttoned-up, with a white shirt and a red tie underneath. He looked so neat Malin got the impression the guy was going to offer a lecture, not to go into a jungle.
“Cold, isn’t it?” Halstein said, rubbing his hands. He looked almost cheerful, as if the trip to Black Plateau was a camping walk. “You guys ready?”
Malin took that animosity as a provocation. Guys like Halstein, people like her father or her father’s military comrades, for example, loved to rub their good times in the faces of those who had no choice but to submit to them.
“Let’s get this over with,” she said, and evading the District Chief’s salute, she climbed into the back seat of the off-road vehicle and urged Adam to follow her.
Adam not only shook Halstein’s massive hand, but he also squeezed it as hard as he could. He forced himself to stare the District Chief in the eye and not hesitate with his look. He also forced himself not to spit any rude words at him. You damn bastard. Then he got in the car.
Halstein took the passenger’s seat, and the journey to Black Plateau began.