TMB XI: A Short History Of Everything (I)

In the end, Rudy poured two drinks. His he downed in two gos. I nursed mine a bit longer, mainly to delay having to voice a definitive answer. I took a sip and enjoyed the warmth spreading in my stomach. It was warm in the office. The ice-cubes already were closer to death than to life. I gave the tumbler a quick shake, to elicit a last tinkle. The ice-cubes didn't pick up any courage. They passed by.

"I promised to take the appropriate action."

Silence.

"I said I'd personally guarantee the information he wanted."

More silence, for the longest time. Yet I could feel him flex his muscles, not as a preparation for any action, but just in an attempt to physically digest what I'd just told him. I emptied my glass, just to pass the time – and because I suddenly felt a little queasy.

"You know what that means, I assume?"

I knew. It had dawned on me back at that bar after my visit to Mr. X.

"I know", I said. "It dawned to me in a bar, right after leaving that murky dungeon of his."

Rudy sighed. I hadn't heard him sigh that often since the advent of the recent Gulf war, and the collapse it brought to the business with one of our, at that time, most important customers. I interpreted that as a sign that I was in trouble. But anyway, I'd already known that.

"I already know I am in trouble, thanks, Rudy", I said. Rudy stopped sighing and stepped closer.

"Don't play it too cool, my friend. You know that this means you've taken on responsibility as a whole. You know Mr. X. But tell me – how come you pledged yourself to something so stupid?" - Not even a second in between for me to even start an answer – "Ah, don't tell me."

So I didn't tell him. He continued:

"Any idea of why?"

"Wished I had any." I checked on the bottom of my glass for a last drop, then decided to give a rat's ass on reservation, grabbed the bottle and filled up again. Rudy just watched.

I put down the tumbler, then turned around to face him. I was slightly taken aback by the, as far as I could tell, sincere signs of concern on his face – some depth there was in his eyes that was seldom to be seen.

We'd known each other now for about ten years, starting off together as graduates of a run-of-the-mill university in the south. Had stayed in touch for one reason or the other. Hadn't been close friends to begin with, but somehow he'd always managed to stay on top of my whereabouts, sending postcard for Xmas and stupid stuff like that, and I'd written back, polite as I was, and that was that. I supposed he'd seen something in me – and right he'd been. Five years ago I'd joined his business. A "position" had opened up in the firm of his, and I'd been rather unhappy with the prospects of a kitchen-appliances-salesman as what I'd ended up at that time. So I didn't have to think it over for very long, but upped and left the town I was living in then. To make a long story short, I'd joined his ranks and proven to have some talent in the business. A little bit too much talent perhaps – at any rate enough talent to make my living and blunder ever deeper into that strange shadow-existence this business entailed, together with an almost insane demand for secrecy.

"She's gone", I said. "I want to know why. And I want to know where to." His eyes slowly changed back to normal again, but I didn't care.

"I know it's that damn secrecy that tore us apart. I know it was a miracle it turned out to last as long as it did anyway. But not this way – not from one moment to the other, not by erasing every last trace of hers except her bloody fingerprints." (And I didn't even know of those for sure.)

"You told him out of confusion", Rudy stated. "Yet Mr. X is no one to accept any confusion, or any other kind of excuse as far as that goes."

"I know. I'm aware of his record."

"I know you are."

Again, silence. Glasses that were filled. Two guys that sat next to each other on the corner of an old, mahogany office-desk.

"I knew her, too. Don't forget that. I remember our meetings, when you introduced me as a distant cousin. Hell, why actually a cousin? But a cousin I had to be and a cousin I was. Telling her my father had died ten years ago." Short sips of whisky.

"I liked her."

"So do I", I said, deliberately ignoring the past-tense he'd used, "so do I. And I want to know what's going on."

"Find out", he simply stated. "Do as you wish. But first things first. You've made a commitment. You know as well as I do what that means." His voice suddenly as cold as steel. Didn't tolerate the booze as well as he once used to anymore.

"You know what that means, and you will do what that implies. A plight like that could mean the end for our whole organisation. We depend on the trust of our customers, as well as on their backing. We're operating a god-damn house of cards here, and you just may have knocked down one of it's supporting cross beams. Hell, the most eerie damned cross-beam thinkable."

Suddenly overwhelmed with anger, he positioned himself right in front of me and poked me on the nose with his index finger:

"Do what you feel like, but solve that bloody quandary first. You hear me? Get that bloody intelligence, and I don't mind who's been killed or will be killed in the process, I want to maintain this business, and you will not tear it down."

Most pathetic show I'd ever witnessed. Outright awkward. But he had a point. A stupid pledge I'd made, and I'd have to fulfil it, come what may. As I knew very well, what I wanted wasn't of any importance if I failed Mr. X. First things first, as Rudy had demanded.

"You have a point", I said. "Please, calm down. I've been in this line of business long enough to know my competences."

Putting a hand on my shoulder, with an all but encouraging gesture:

"Care for another drink?"

"Sure do", I answered, purporting the air of the confident.

Wished I'd had any reason to.