Chapter 22
Crop fields, meadows, cows and houses of a long gone past flowing by in a slow gloomy continuum have plunged me in a half dormant state from which I wonder if I will ever awaken.
As I walk out the train my perceptions are muffled in the grey silence of the station, there’s not a soul around, it’s summer and yet I am cold in the wet air of this late afternoon. I feel as if I were under a spell, so distant from the past. San Fran, and even Amsterdam, seem more like places I’ve dreamed about than cities where I’ve actually been.
I walk out of Sittard’s station as if my body did not belong to me, as if it were walking out of its own will. When I exit the door I see the obelisk mentioned in the note.
Obelisk is probably an overstatement for the poor thing in the middle of the tiny square, but my mystery man is there, smoking a cigarette with almost voluptuous pleasure, I can’t tell if real or feigned. I stand in front of the door, and he turns towards me for a brief instant, then diverts his eyes and continues smoking. I start to wonder how things are going to play out when he looks at me again and walks away, casually and slowly. I follow him, not too closely, trying to look just as casual as he does. The streets are small, strangely lonely. The stores are closed. There are no cars, no passer-byes. We take some turns and end up in front of a three storey condo, where an old lady is sitting on the balcony. She eyes us with great curiosity, and given the complete stillness of the surroundings I am not surprised.
My man opens a car, completely inconspicuous, and I step in. I buckle up without looking at him. He starts the car without looking at me.
For a while we drive in silence, in places that seem all alike to me. Same small houses, same empty small streets.
Then I ask, “Who are you?”
“I work for them. The people who are after you. I was supposed to follow you and make sure you didn’t take any…undesirable action, so to say”, he tells me
I ask his name.
“Ronny”, he tells me
“Is this your real name?”, I ask, not hoping for a real answer
“There’s nothing real in my life – or yours”, he says
“Ok Ronny, so you work for them. And I’ve been so stupid to follow you. Seriously, who are you?”, I snap
I don’t know why I’ve decided I can talk to this man the way I am doing – I am acting more than thinking. I’m impatient now, I am vulnerable but I don’t care.
“I decided I’m not on their side anymore”, he tells me
“Who are “they”?”
Ronny is silent for a moment. I look at him for the first time, I mean really look at him, at the details of his face, at the way he’s dressed, at his hands. I realize for the first time that the guy is handsome, or at least likeable, but he hasn’t shaved and the lack of sleep has traced dark circles around his eyes.
“You and I are experiments”
“Experiments?”, I repeat, unable to understand
“Ever heard about the World Medical Organization?”, Ronny asks
“Well yes…”
“In theory the WMO collaborates with research institutes all over the world to find cures for major plagues: AIDS, cancer and so forth. It conducts its own independent research and is funded by the governments of 15 countries all over the globe”, Ronny tells me
“So?”
“So in theory the WMO is a respectable, legal organization. It is so well recognized, and so well protected that nobody questions it. I don’t know about all their activities, but I know what’s happening to us. They are studying our behaviour, we are case studies. They’ve been monitoring us since we were toddlers, perhaps even before we were born”
I struggle to process the information. Ronny is cruising slowly, and I look out the window. We are surrounded by crops now, and the street is so it can hardly fit a car.
After a pause Ronny continues.
“They’ve taken me away from my natural parents. My adoptive mother works for the organization. At first I think she simply wanted to study my behaviour, but then she started to perceive me as her son. Regardless of her feelings I am fairly sure I’m still treated as a case study, I am still in the organization’s stats. The organization is stronger than the individuals who are part of it, and I doubt my adoptive mother could completely stop the fact that I am being monitored even if she wanted to. She worked to shift my role slightly though, and I got hired to check on other case studies, make statistics, do some sort of mathematical modelling of their behaviour”
This is too much to believe
“I don’t know what you’re saying”, I say
But Ronny just looks at the street and drives.
“I’ll bring you to a farm in Belgium. We’ll spend the night there. I hope my contact will call me by tomorrow”, he tells me
“How did you get to know you were a case study? And how do you know you are not being watched now?”, I insist, “And who is your contact?”
“My adoptive mother tried to hide from me the fact I had been adopted. By now she must know that I’ve learned much too much. I had my microchip removed when I reached Amsterdam”, Ronny tells me
I look at him.
“Check if you want. The stitches are covered by a band aid”
“They don’t tell us that we’ve been adopted and they place microchips on our shoulders…”, I whisper
So that’s what they do with all of us, their test cases.
“Yes, they microchip us and induce us to believe our adoptive parents are our natural ones. The idea is that we shouldn’t suspect we have another identity. They want to understand the role of people’s genetic patrimony on their behaviour. I suspect they are even trying to create predefined types in vitro, but I can’t say for sure. We’ll have to find out…I need to find out…”, Ronny says, and leaves the sentence in mid-air.
“Ok, one thing at a time. Your mother tried to hide the fact that you had been adopted, because?”
“Because if you suspect your roots are elsewhere you’ll try to find them. It’s human nature. They want to avoid that. The idea is to disconnect you as much as possible from your cultural background and evaluate how much your genetic patrimony will dominate your behaviour regardless of your life experiences. If your parents are drunkards, will you be a drunkard? If they are successful, will you be successful? How much of what your parents are sticks to you? How much of what your grandparents are sticks to you? Their projects run through multiple generations. They prefer to take brothers and sisters, and twins are even better, it’s easier to compare their behaviour and make statistics. But then there are also case studies who are single children”
My veins are throbbing so hard I can hear them.
“You have a twin?”, I ask
“No, I don’t think so”
“Am I the only one you are supposed to monitor?”
“No”
“And did you tell the other people you monitor what you’re telling me?”
“No”
“Why?”
“Because you are different”
“How so?”, I want to know
“I broke into the system because I was interested in a specific person, I wanted to know more about her. And then I found out about myself, and you…”
He pauses for a moment.
“My twin?”, I ask, my heartbeat accelerating further
“No”
“Then what is the connection between this person you were interested in and me?”, I ask
“None”
“So what about this person?”, I insist
“They made her disappear”
My blood freezes
“I don’t get it…how did you get to find me among all case studies? Will I disappear too?”, I ask after a moment
“You and I were in the same folder”, Ronny tells me, leaving the second question unanswered
“Explain”
“The system classified us as potential rebels based on our DNA type and our natural parents history. They knew we would probably not accept what was told to us and find a way to dig further, to question appearances. That’s why I was assigned directly to a person who is a part of the system, a doctor who could monitor me closely. That’s what my adoptive mother is: a doctor at WMO”
“And what about me?”
“The same is true for you. Your adoptive parents also work for the system. Considered you and I are here trying to find a way out, I suppose the system has pretty good predictive tools, I must give them that”
I am so stunned I cannot speak and when we reach the farm few moments later Ronny has to shake me awake from my thoughts for me to realize the car has stopped.