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18- NO CUTTING OBJECTS ALLOWED ON BOARD

Fifty-five meters below the mining station, there was an underground hangar the size of a football pitch. Apparently, Atticus had them built wherever he established one of his weapons nests. There were parking spaces reserved especially for cargo planes so that their contents could be loaded and unloaded in a protected environment. Skyler soon figured out that one wall acted as a gate that separated the hangar from an off-site airstrip, even though he never got to see it.

The fourteen people conforming the crew had already descended in a wide cargo elevator. Skyler was last, following Nadim's steps up the rear ramp of the cargo plane he would fly on and which would tow the Sea Shadow. The inside of the aircraft was divided into two rooms: the cockpit, which would be occupied only by Seiber, and the cargo bay, constituting almost three-fourths of the aircraft. The rest of the crew, including Skyler, stayed in the latter. It was devoid of windows, and the seats were attached to the walls to leave space in the center, a place the prototype would occupy. As soon as they tied up their seat harnesses, Nadim gave each one a pill to swallow. Then he sat next to Skyler, swallowed his own pill, and gave Skyler another.

"Buckle up; it kicks like cyanide."

"Was it your idea?" asked Skyler as he took it and fastened his belts.

"It's just standard protocol. The point is to prevent anyone on the crew from working out where we're heading by checking how long it takes to get to the coast."

"I guess that's why we've spent the last 24 hours underground, stripped of our watches. So that we get disoriented."

"You guess right."

Skyler glanced around at the crew. They were all out.

"And you're the one giving us the coup de grâce here."

"Atticus appointed me to it. He said my quirks about routines are useful for keeping everyone in line."

"Well, if you can profit from them, I wouldn't call them quirks."

"Me neither. I mean, if you're a normal person, people say you have quirks. If you're famous, they say you have friendly eccentricities. I'm just a famous guy in waiting.

"Really? You wanna be famous?"

"You're damn right."

"What for?"

Suddenly, something flashed through the boy's eyes. Something unstoppable.

"I wanna meet Phil Collins."

"Yeah, I would wanna meet Jesus if he played the drums, too."

"That's one way to put it. I would've said Adam though. You know, for Genesis."

"Wait, no Asperger there? Didn't know it could be fragmentary."

"Well. It's not. 'Cause I made it up."

"What? You're kidding."

"It was just a filter."

"A filter?"

"To screen people out. I'm autistic though; that much is true."

"You're losing me. You're autistic, and then you go around saying you have Asperger's?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"To screen people out."

"How's that gonna screen anyone out?"

"I say that to newcomers, and then gauge their reaction."

"You say that to newcomers, and then gauge their reaction."

"Yeah."

"What for?"

"Everyone here's gonna know I have autism. Everyone here's gonna treat me differently because I have autism. I just burn past the first stage and throw them a curveball. Then see who plays along. Saves a lot of time getting to know who'll be a friend. Most tell me to go fuck myself. Some smile their way out of my bluff."

Skyler squinted mildly, feeling the numbness in his limbs build slowly.

"And what did I do?"

The boy seemed to mirror him, seeing himself comfortable in his light-headed vulnerability for the first time.

"You danced. One only dances when he trusts his dancing partner. I guess I can trust you."

Skyler put his hands on the boy's shoulder, and they both stared at the void in the cargo bay fade as they sank into their chemical sleep.

"So you want me to be your Peter Gabriel?"

"God no, we already have one Bowie with Seiber."

Skyler smiled. He wasn't sure if the smile reached his lips, but he knew he had smiled somewhere.

"Yeah, tell me 'bout it," he said before he passed out.

                                             *****

And then he opened his eyes. The ramp was already lowered, and the afternoon sun covered the concrete of the airstrip and the ochre and herbal land beyond. Everyone was awake, unfastening their harnesses, preparing to get off the plane. He, too, took off his harness and went down the ramp, and then he saw, to his right, the golden glare of the sun glistening off the sea, where a small dock ruled by a single crane was embedded on the shore. There was no physical division between the dock and the airfield where they were, and only a fence separated both from the primitive land, alien to men since the former beginnings. Seiber showed up with his eternal smile and his offensively red Hawaiian shirt and took him to the end of the only pier.

"How was the ride?"

"Awesome. Time's flown by. By the way, I thought I saw you staying with us in the underground quarters."

"Yeah, so what?"

"There was no need for you to lose track of time and space; you're the one behind the wheel. You already knew where and when we had to go."

"Yeah, well, that's a behavioral protocol. Just to keep the higher ranks from getting on a high horse, so the staff feels they're all the same. Just go through the same shit together, no matter who you are," he replied as he glimpsed his two watches on the same wrist. "Anyway, they should be here by now."

"We in a hurry?"

"It's not about the hurry; it's just that being late gets to me, that's all."

"That's because you're German, even though you don't look like it. 'Cause you're German, right?"

Seiber shaded his eyes and scanned the sea's horizon. It was then that Skyler noticed the old watch didn't work; all the hands on the dial and sub-dials pointed to number seven. Maybe a lucky charm.

"Born. I grew up with my father in the United States. Similar to you and your brother."

"Yeah." Skyler feigned empathy. "What a thing."

Seiber pretended condescension.

"Yeah, well. It's a long, boring story. I suppose your thing with that colleague of yours is way more interesting. What was the name again? King Acid?"

"Yeah," answered Skyler mechanically. Deep inside, he knew it was true.

"Sounds fun...what was it? Some kind of new drug?"

"No," he replied indifferently, waving his hand in dismissal. He was sure that was not the first time he'd heard that joke. "It's about..." He tried to think deeply, seeking a way out of the dead end where he had put himself, when he saw in the distance a tiny shadow breaking the blonde and blue line of the evening horizon. "Hey, look."

Seiber followed the imaginary line from Skyler's finger towards the sea. A black object was breaking the white shadow of the Sun on the water. It wasn't a regular boat, nor was it intended to be. Atticus had told Skyler it seemed like a giant Toblerone case; Seiber had said it was like a cockroach without legs. Yes, he could now see the likeness: the windows in the front looked like eyes, but it had too much of a geometric and elongated body for an insect. Atticus' comparison was definitely the most successful, although to Skyler, it was rather more like a long lump of coal cut in half, similar to the Nighthawk, but without wings. And quite a bit larger than he expected, about fifty meters long by some fifteen or twenty broad; and standing on its roof, there was the silhouette of a human form accompanied by a huge lump at her side. As soon as the boat got close enough to the pier, that bulk came alive and rushed down the boat's side in the shape of a dog, a huge dog that jumped across the wooden slats and approached Skyler relentlessly.

"Oh, sh..."

The animal took him violently to the ground and, just when he thought he was going to die by his fangs, what actually came from the beast's mouth were licks on the face and whining unfit for a dog of its size. But this was not a common dog; this was his dog; he was...

"Ace! You're alive!"

"Ace, otstupat'!"

Ace retraced his steps and sat at the feet of the woman, who stood petrified, gawking at Skyler with eyes on the verge of tears. He locked eyes with her and stood slowly, waiting for the stranger to make the first move. She came close to him, and before the ghost of a second attack could cross his mind, she surrounded him with her arms and rested her forehead on his shoulder.

"I thought you hadn't made it."

He reciprocated by embracing her. The image of that room with the column in the center became more real than ever. And ones with Ace, the strolls with him on the street, his greetings when coming home, that puppy she gave him...why? Was it for his birthday? No, not that. It was something else. Out of love? But then again, why give a dog with all the responsibilities and burdens involved? Why not give a rose? And in any case, did he accept? Were they a couple? No; he granted himself the benefit of the doubt, assuming his former self had not committed the stupidity of a relationship in a work environment. And besides, he had the sense he'd known her for a long time, much longer than one would have been able to remember at a glance.

They were childhood friends; that was the most plausible explanation at that time, even though it wasn't necessarily the most likely.

"I was taken away in an ambulance."

"Yes, Colt told me. Where is he?"

"Sorry, he didn't make it," intervened Seiber. "Skyler, you know her, right?"

Just for that moment, Skyler allowed himself not to doubt his response.

"Yes."

Seiber looked back at his watch.

"Then we better go back already. They have to tow the Sea Shadow, and Abel and I have a lot of catching up to do."

But Light did not move. Skyler kept him in her arms before a baffled Seiber and an indifferent Abel, coming from the cockpit of the boat. Seiber then gave the order to Abel to sail on until reaching the dock, while he followed the slow pace of the machine over the wooden slats. Skyler tried to follow him, but Light held him still.

"Please. Do not ever do this to me again."

Skyler placed his hand on her nape in a paternal manner.

"I promise."

"Do not ever put me through this again."

"I promise."

"Never again."

"Never again."

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