“It is caused by vertical air movements just like the tornado. It can be rather big and strong.”
Marcela threw herself on the bed with the full force of her slender body, feeling exhausted to death. She thought she was too tired to take a shower even. She barely managed to take off her cramped t-shirt, then she removed her bra and threw it towards the other bunk but missed and it fell on the floor.
Nothing mattered any more, even if the world stopped turning around, she would not care but would want to sleep and then gather her thoughts. To hell with the Russians and their patriotic passion. To hell with Norman and his strict orders.
The most important issue was her doctor’s thesis. The Chancellor would not be pleased with her inexplicable absence. What would she tell him upon returning back?
Would those military men be willing to vouchsafe that they almost kidnapped her, so that she could take part in this madness? She needed to complete the chapter about flaviviruses and fuck the dumb militaries with their dumb submarine. Her life was more important, wasn’t it? Nothing else mattered or at least in this moment, she tried to convince herself.
If she did not take this last step in her professional development, all her efforts so far would have been wasted. The long years of night and day work in the laboratory and in front of the computer. What if it had all been in vain?
What would she do? Was there anything else in her life? She was scared. She was weak.
As much as she strived to demonstrate power and determination, she was torn inside with memories and contradictions.
Was she good enough, was her career worth the price to be left alone and without a family? How much normal life cost and was it not better to be moderately happy than chase the peaks of science?
She was lonely. She had never admitted it to herself before. Of course, nobody considered her lonely. She was a beautiful, sexy woman, coveted by every man in Bucharest to hold her in his arms.
But she did not want just anybody. She felt lonely with each one of her partners so far. They were either self-indulging egocentrics with expensive sports cars or collapsing workaholics, too idealistic and naive to provoke any interest in her.
Money was an argument, that powerful men were pointing out all the time, but after a week they became trivially boring. She found dull their ambitions and the things that amused them and saw no sense in playing a role. She preferred to be alone and work.
She graduated in Biology as if it was a joke, she loved animals.
She did her first doctor’s thesis at 27, too late for her ambitious nature. But early enough to attract the attention of the scientific community with her work on virology and most of all on applied Biology in closed systems.
Now she was 37 and still irresistible.
In any restaurant she entered, all the glances were pinned on her. No man could avoid imagining her naked under her clothes of a working, emancipated professional.
And she never stopped provoking them. She loved short skirts and see-through tops. She found interesting how primal and oversimplified men were and how easy it was to make them crawl. She provoked them with arrogant behavior or light flirting and elegant smile.
The entropy of creation made her go on believing in great love.
She opened her eyes startled and looked at her watch, placed on the dresser. It was almost half past six. She remained lying, staring with an empty glance at the dark ceiling, not thinking of anything, just unwilling to close her eyes again.
Her phone gave a sound. It was the alarm.
The music of ‘Deep Purple’ sounded.
“Impossible!” Norman could not believe his eyes.
“I have no doubt whatsoever, Sir!” The Lieutenant was pointing at the lighted screen. “Those are from the National police service, those – from Interpol, and those – from the Civil protection organization.”
“And they match?”
“Absolutely, Sir! I double-checked them five times, there can’t be any mistake.”
“I can’t believe it.”
“See, these on the left are the fingerprints of the perpetrator on the body or what was left of it, we found them on a part of one of his shoes, on a piece from the rims of the glasses and particularly on the grinding device. And those on the right are his.” The Sergeant slipped them with the mouse to the left and overlaid them one on the other. “There is a 100% match.”
“Yes, these are for sure the fingerprints of the murderer.”
“Beg your pardon, Sir, I’ve been in military police, homicide department, I’ve seen all kinds of butcher scenes, but never anything like this… I don’t know what to call it, Sir.”
“Yes, I myself have never imagined that such savagery could exist and I’ve been on six missions. I’ve witnessed distressing pictures.”
“But how can he be capable of this? He seems the kindest man on earth.”
“I agree, but we need to detain him”, Norman said decisively. “Take two men and arrest him.”
“We are talking of the murderer, aren’t we, Sir?” The Lieutenant needed to be 100% sure.
“Of course, who else? Arrest Hans immediately.”
Alan was going to his room to fetch his sunglasses, when he saw her, standing with her back to him just in front of the door to his dome.
She was squatting and was picking something on the floor, her behavior seemed a little strained and unnatural, but the sun was shining so bright in his eyes, that he could not see clearly. He squinted, wrinkling the skin of his face.
He hated forgetting his glasses, because it was hard to see, his eye-balls started aching from the tension and moreover unwanted wrinkles formed at his temples. He did not want to provoke extra wrinkles. The botox he had been using for several years now was quite efficient but needed care.
“Hey, Marcela, what are you doing here? Do come in, I’ll show you my modest adobe.”
She just turned her head to him and stared. He was unable to see her eyes behind the enormous sunglasses, but he felt now was the moment to tell her.
“Look, March, come inside and let’s talk. I’ve been meaning to tell you something for a long time.”
She looked around as if to make sure they were alone and nobody saw them.
“No, no, there’s nobody here, everyone is at the central dome, I’m sure, I myself was there just a second ago… You know, I really like you very much and… err… I’ve been thinking for some time that I have to confess…”
Marcela stood up, turned and started walking slowly towards the fence.
“Hey, March, please, don’t be like that, I never meant to insult you. Where are you going?” Alan caught with her and took her by the hand – it was ice-cold, he felt like he was touching a corpse. “There is nothing in this direction, please, come back. I just wanted to invite you as a guest in my new show when this is over. Because I can guarantee after what’s happening here I’ll be back in the game.”
She released her hand coldly and went away without a word.
Alan remained motionless, looking at her.
The smell of fresh coffee refreshed them and took them away in their thoughts. It was pleasant just to stay quiet, while drinking from real china cups. It seemed there were suppliers with taste in that base. Michael, Marcela and Hans were up earlier than the rest, and they enjoyed being able to talk, free from the military, the Russians and Alan, about whom they joked that at nights, when he was alone in his room, he had started writing a script for a Hollywood blockbuster.
“How did you sleep?” Marcela sipped a large gulp of her coffee. “I dream a lot and wake up startled all through the night. Frankly, I haven’t slept at all since we came here.”