Live or Die Trilogy Read online

  But then, who gives a damn!

  Le them find out.

  What are they going to do?

  Swoop down here and throw me out?

  They could always stop me from communicating with the Japanese woman...

  We'll see.

  I like this game and I want it to go on.

  I can't spend my life watching movies, reading e-books and scrutinizing Verdecchi's sterile news reports.

  Not to mention that, tomorrow morning, the world may no longer exist.

  July 7

  I've never been a guy who thinks about the past, but, down here, you have all the time in the world to remember.

  My reminiscences can't help but be unpleasant.

  My life is divided into several parts.

  The first is that of a happy child, the second of a squalid orphanage, the third of the war, and the last of the secret service, with a pause in the middle by the name of Rachele.

  Then this sewer of loneliness, which, in the end, isn't so different from that orphanage.

  On the contrary.

  At least now I have the strength of the adult.

  Back then, I was as fragile as a crystal figurine.

  I lost my parents at age seven.

  My father, I remember as a kind, smiling individual - I must not have taken after him - who had the nerve to tell his family to go to hell and ran off to travel the world, at the age of eighteen. After a lot of wandering, he ended up back in his hometown.

  Rome.

  He didn't return alone, but in the company of Karolina, a beautiful Russian woman.

  My mother.

  Another adventurer, with a sad past behind her, of which every detail now escapes me.

  I only know that when I was in class, at the beginning of my second year of elementary school, my parents were out on a motorcycle, and a truck mowed them down, carrying me away forever.

  There weren't any grandparents, aunts or uncles in my life.

  Only them.

  And they were dead.

  My experiences in the orphanage taught me to accept indifference and disappointments in life.

  Each Sunday, like every other child, I would get up in the hope that some visiting couple might choose me as their son. I remember that they made us all line up, to put us on display for those who wanted to adopt a child.

  For the youngest children, it was a golden moment; for me, a real tragedy. Sunday after Sunday, I saw kids springing into the paradise of a family, while I continued to be left there. It didn't take me long to understand that no one wanted the older children.

  In fact, I was never chosen.

  I grew up with a lot of anger.

  That's what made me enlist in the Army, which dragged me into the insanity of Iraq.

  July 8

  I didn't sleep at all last night.

  You don't get all that tired in here.

  I did some exercises, so I don't get too rusty, giving the air filtration system a little extra work.

  Then I did nothing but think about her.

  As if bewitched, the wildest erotic fantasies emerged in my mind.

  An explosion of perversions and taboos.

  A legacy of the Army, that doesn't allow for vigorous sexual activity, in those cursed places where you don't think about anything except saving your own ass. So your thoughts invariably turn to unbridled eroticism, in a subconscious attempt to make up for lost time.

  I would never have chosen that life if someone had given me a family.

  And I wouldn't find myself here, now.

  But, all in all, what's conjecture really good for?

  Nothing.

  Wow!

  For a moment I managed to distract myself.

  This diary is a useful thing.

  It keeps me from thinking about Namiko's thighs.

  At least for a couple of seconds.

  I laugh like a fool.

  These are like the memories of a pervert.

  I can see the Japanese woman, dressed in latex, with a kilo of Kajal, six-inch heels and a whip in her hand.

  I'd make her dominate me like a dog, a slave on a leash, ready to satisfy his mistress's wishes.

  July 12

  Why does it only go off when I'm sleeping?

  It's Mission Command that triggers it.

  Perhaps to train me to be ready at any time.

  I think I'll suggest that they do it while I'm on the toilet taking a shit!

  Tonight, I think I'll go back to sleep for a few hours.

  I'm always thinking about the consequences if the alarm isn't deactivated. I'm sure it's a thought present in my colleagues' minds also.

  Should all Mission Commands disappear, the automatic alarm would go off every five hours. At that point, only the hands of the six who are underground could stop the simultaneous detonation of a thousand nuclear warheads, scattered across the planet.

  The concept is very simple: if we eliminate and damn the planet, we destroy it, making it uninhabitable. If it can't be ours, it won't be theirs either.

  It's a remote possibility. At least that's the belief of many distinguished scientists, who can't abide the thought that a species more intelligent and advanced than we are, who has traveled hundreds of light years, has come this far to exterminate the human race.

  At the training center, I personally felt that General Verdecchi agreed with these scholars.

  Meanwhile, I'm here.

  July 15

  It's been months since I haven't woken up with a start, prey to the nightmare that has tortured me for seven years.

  In this case, it's no fantasy of the mind.

  Only a memory, which makes its horrid appearance in the middle of the night.

  The chronicle of a bloody day in April, when a convoy with the only true friend I had ever known, drove over a land mine and exploded.

  I was behind it, in a military vehicle a few meters away.

  I remember the deafening noise.

  It was as if the fabric of space had suddenly been torn apart.

  Terror followed.

  And horror.

  Infinite horror.

  The blast reduced my friend to shreds.

  Never become attached to people that you might lose in battle.

  You can't even call it war, that kind of terrorist fighting, sinister and invisible.

  Only I could find friendship and attachment there, with a man destined for an inconceivable end.

  I always dream that I get close to the gutted convoy, that I'm crouching down and talking to my bloodless friend.

  I see fear reflected in his eyes.

  He tries to tell me something, and as soon as I put my hand on his face, his body begins to melt.

  In reality, I was wearing gloves; but in the dream, my hand is bare. So I can feel the slippery organic fluid.

  At that point, I always wake up, drenched in sweat.

  This time it was different.

  The convoy exploded.

  I tried to reach out to my companion, but a being, like that in the hologram, magically appeared before my eyes. Then a host of alien ships descended from heaven.

  “I'm sorry,” said the celestial being.

  The visitors' spacecraft began to pummel us with energy beams, turning everything to smithereens.

  Eventually one of them hit me.

  I woke up.

  My God, where am I?

  A soft light... the hole... in night mode.

  I'm not dead.

  Not yet.

  July 20

  Dammit!

  It's over!

  There's only one pen left.

  Incredible!

  I'll have use the keyboard to write or dictate to the computer.

  Today I give up.

  July 21

  “I dreamed about you!” I exclaimed.

  It seemed better than telling her that I think about her all the time, like a crazy person.

  She asked me to tell her about my drea
m.

  For a second, I thought about dropping the act, avoiding embellishment.

  Then I remember that I've had to kill more than one man; and that I've risked my neck on many occasions. I can't feel embarrassed with a woman and allow myself to break the rules.

  For no reason at all, I want to preclude the possibility of throwing myself into such an intriguing situation.

  At worst, she'll tell me to go fuck myself.

  But instead she didn't.

  How could she?

  Her.

  That mischievous Namiko.

  “I dreamed that we were outside of here, that I invited you to dinner and we took a romantic walk.” A lie! The dream began with me, tied up naked on a little bed.

  “And then?” she asked, staring right through me with her two black pearls.

  I gave in and told her every detail, lavishing her with particulars.

  “Is this a dream created by your mind, or is it something that you really want? Because, you know, there's nothing to say that one day... you and I...”

  When she said it like that, I was caught off-guard.

  Incredible!

  I never thought it would happen with a woman like her.

  It's absurd that something would develop with a Japanese woman, buried thousands of miles away.

  Perhaps it's because of the isolation, this artificial air in the hole, or the thought of staying here forever, that we lost all the usual inhibitions. Not that it's all that strange: millions of people have had cybersex.

  But we're being observed by Mission Command here!

  Except for conversations in private mode.

  The fate of the world lies in our hands.

  Every second could be the one where an hour of sirens and red lights announces the end of the world.

  But the fact is that she started to touch herself.

  First, she lightly touched her body, gently stroking herself. Then she stuck a finger in her mouth, greedily sucking on it. As she pulled it out, she pointed at me, bringing her hand to hers lips and blowing me a kiss. Then her hands slid down between her thighs, and an expression of pleasure came over her face.

  At that point, I couldn't hold back.

  I could feel myself exploding.

  I put my hand in my pants.

  This is getting serious, I thought.

  Then the communiqué was cut off.

  Suddenly.

  It had never happened before, until that moment.

  The alarm went off a second later.

  That couldn't have been a coincidence.

  July 22

  “Are you done jacking off?”

  That's how Verdecchi began.

  Hot-tempered.

  At first I wanted to laugh.

  Then he began to lecture me.

  “You're an elite soldier, a man, the being to whom we have entrusted the fate of our planet, and you're acting like an idiot with that slut?”

  He didn't say it exactly like that.

  I don't feel like replaying the video to get the exact phrases.

  It was hard not to respond.

  He was merciless.

  I can't blame him.

  I knew I was being a stupid shit.

  It's just that Namiko's pussy made me lose control.

  Cursed testosterone.

  Maybe those women who say men think with their dicks are right.

  I only know that I felt like a worm.

  I still feel like a worm.

  A disrespectful nobody.

  An idiot who disregards the most important, and perhaps the most serious, issue facing mankind.

  The general also told me that he had important news and that it's not too good. That Mission Command would be letting us know soon.

  “Do you know why I don't drag you out of that hole and kick your ass?”

  I didn't say a word.

  “Because those fucking aliens would discover us! We know that they're monitoring our every move. Luckily, only God could intercept and decrypt this conversation. At least I hope. What am I supposed to do with you? Throw you out of the program? Disable the alarm? I don't know, Bastiani. God damn it! I really don't know. In any case, you can forget about that little slut. We know all about her.”

  Those were his last words, more or less. Without even allowing me to reply. Even though I would've remained silent. What can I say? Such an asshole...

  I'd like to know what Namiko's reaction was.

  Besides that, up there, things aren't going well.

  From now on, I'll be even more alone.

  July23

  They all had the same expression...

  Of condemnation and wonder.

  Even Mike, always cheerful and smiling, was withdrawn and tense.

  The news must've spread.

  Dammit! I was hoping that Verdecchi and the Japanese wouldn't make the other night's diversion public knowledge.

  They're all men: I would've hoped to find a little solidarity.

  It's due to some false morality.

  Or maybe they're actually convinced that they're the world's heroes.

  Poor things.

  They still don't understand that they're just hamsters locked in a metal box.

  So true!

  They have this great responsibility.

  That of allowing our planet to live or die.

  If something really did happen on the surface, the food supply would end in the space of a year.

  I want to see how quick we are to push the button at that point.

  It'll be a really big explosion, bringing death and desolation.

  I just don't understand this vindictive mood.

  If they destroy us, we have to annihilate them in turn.

  A minor detail.

  And the rest of the Earth?

  What about the millions of animal species that live there?

  Will even a single plant or a flower remain as testimony to the beauty of life?

  How did I ever choose to be in charge of such infamy?

  That's something I do know.

  The thousands of nuclear warheads will only detonate at the moment when one of the moles shirks the task of disabling the alarm.

  As long as my heart continues to beat, I will keep pressing that damned button.

  I'm a rag, left on the bed.

  Crumpled and dirty.

  I don't even have Namiko to console me...

  August 2

  I had heard about it.

  The depression.

  Now I know.

  I haven't wanted to write for the past few days.

  It's not the same without a pen.

  I thought about dictating to the computer, but then those in Command would be listening to me. And, as for privacy, it leaves something to be desired.

  I transmit what's in my mind by means of a keyboard. Then I copy the file to an external memory stick. After which, I delete every trace from the database. If they, however, try to use some techno-devilry that allows them access to my information, amen!

  Those in Command gave me this external memory unit, in case I needed to save valuable information, before being taken out of here and sent back to the surface.

  The scent of the foolish thing I've done still lingers in the air.

  Something not very hero-like.

  I ended up with a bunch of self-righteous bastards.

  For the first time since I've been here, I experienced fear.

  A certain Cardelli contacted me.

  From Command.

  I asked what had happened to Verdecchi, but he didn't even answer me.

  A grizzled man in his fifties.

  Agitated.

  I would say terrified.

  “This is the end of the world!”

  He said it in such a way that I immediately believed him.

  “We'll try to come get you, if we can. In the meantime, consult the file we're sending you tha...”

  The sentence ended with a strangled “tha”.<
br />
  Only an unresolved blue and then the logo with the hawk.

  Did a war of the worlds break out?

  Why didn't they ever give me details about what was happening?

  Only and always daily news updates, including the confirmation of communication with digitized, and not material, beings. In training, we had always talked about computer simulations.

  The aliens refused to give an explanation, offering only implausible excuses.

  They justified their actions by claiming that they were obliged to do it, for reasons that, at that time, they couldn't reveal.

  They asked us to be understanding.

  Patience.

  What they needed for their long journey that lasted a thousand years.

  Dear little elongated creatures, or whatever you are, after watching us all this time, you haven't learned about human intolerance?

  Someone must've fucked up big time.

  I'm sure of it.

  Or perhaps, with the excuse of waiting, they landed en masse, kicking off the invasion.

  What I can't stand is all this secrecy.

  Tell me what the hell is going on!

  Maybe that Cardelli guy tried but didn't have time.

  I've attempted to contact Command.

  Nothing.

  I tried to contact the moles.

  And no one answered.

  I haven't had power for three hours.

  At least according to the clock in the hole.

  The auxiliary generators have kicked in.

  Those will run down too: they're huge batteries that could power the fans for several days.

  Fortunately, everything then went back to normal.

  And the others were consulting me, before I could do it to them.

  We had all gotten only fragments of news.

  Except Namiko and Mike.

  The American knew about a clash with the aliens.

  Aliens, extraterrestrials, visitors... I haven't quite given them a name, even in my imagination!

  “It looks like North Korea, Iran and other countries dropped it on them.”