Live or Die Trilogy Read online

  “What's dropped it on them?”

  “They used the atomic bomb.”

  “Say what?”

  “You heard right.”

  I put my hands through my hair.

  Tylor began to pace up and down, cursing and swearing.

  Franz just stared into space.

  Igor attached himself to a bottle of vodka.

  A bottle of vodka?

  In the hole?

  Dear God.

  But they didn't say anything about Namiko.

  We don't know how to get rid of the block that prevents communication between me and the Japanese woman.

  I don’t' know.

  It's as if the world above has collapsed.

  All at once.

  At the same instant.

  And now it's just us.

  Survivors of the human race, in six metal boxes, scattered throughout the Earth's crust.

  August 3

  Is there a way out?

  No.

  Far from being a statement of mine or representing the end of hope, which should be inherent in the human soul.

  It's written in the hole's manual!

  The others, who are far more technical than I, confirmed it.

  Namiko, in particular, actively participated in the construction of the bunkers in which we're prisoners.

  This was a military program, started about ten years ago, as a collaborative effort among the nations involved in the project called “Astro,” which I've renamed “Destruction of Earth.”

  At the time, it had a military purpose that had nothing to do with the stars; today, its mission is to wipe out the Martians.

  The outcome hasn't changed.

  A blaze of radioactive plasma and it's End of Game.

  Defeat tastes vile.

  It's something that's been with me my entire life: from the thankless Sundays at the orphanage, to the insanity in Iraq.

  Even Rachele, the only woman I ever loved, upon seeing me return from the Middle East, just stood there, cold and distant, looking me in the eye.

  “Hello, Sirio.”

  Silence.

  The expression on her face was a promise of defeat.

  “You're going to continue this life, aren't you?”

  “Yes, I need it,” I replied.

  “Well, I don't. I can't go on like this.”

  “But if we...”

  “I'm sorry, but I don't love you anymore,” she said curtly, sharp as a knife.

  There was no need to say more.

  I was completely annihilated.

  Being in the Army and the Secret Service allowed me to ignore the turmoil in my soul.

  I feel as destroyed today as I did that day.

  With one salient difference: I have nowhere to run.

  August 4

  Now I'm really afraid.

  A thin, invisible cord is preventing me from breathing.

  I'm suffocating.

  Yet life support is at maximum efficiency.

  No contact with the outside world, even if the power is working without a hitch in this tomb.

  The others and I have stayed connected all day, in the hope that someone will catch a signal from their Command.

  Only silence.

  Inescapable and definitive.

  Fortunately, our connection hasn't been interrupted.

  I dare not imagine what it might be like to have even the consolation of seeing a human face vanish, to be unable hear a voice that can understand and share your anguish.

  Dear God.

  Can it really be a nuclear wasteland out there?

  What madness!

  To arrogate to oneself the right to destroy life and condemn all creatures to death, even those who have nothing to do with the ambitions, the idols and the ego of men.

  And if we only defended ourselves?

  What if the monsters were those beings who came from the depths of the galaxy?

  August 5

  Namiko.

  What's going through her mind?

  She had called me, making me admire her in all her sensuality: stockings, a corset and a thong, to accentuate her silhouette.

  “I know it may seem strange, but it's precisely in the most difficult times that you have to relax.”

  At that moment I realized she would be willing to perform the most perverted sex acts.

  Most men's fantasy.

  My fantasy.

  Despite this, my dejection and inadequacy in that to-do had led me to slam the door in her face.

  I put my finger on close and the screen went black.

  It's not a permanent mode. That doesn't exist. Safety reasons.

  The silence that actually terrified me so much the past few days has now become my ally.

  I no longer want to hear the distress of others, to be contacted by a nymphomaniac.

  And, above all, I fear that someone, perhaps from the surface or from some other hole, has been contacted with information about the new reality.

  A truth of destruction and desolation.

  No, thank you.

  August 6

  They came to get me.

  The most wonderful surprise that a human being could ever have.

  It happened while I was sleeping. I heard noises coming from above the trap door that leads to a tunnel connected to the surface.

  But it was only a technical fault.

  Mike was wrong.

  Nothing atomic.

  The extraterrestrials revealed themselves.

  Their form is abhorrent to our eyes, but, fortunately, they have kind souls.

  After having seen them, I can understand their reluctance to show themselves.

  Our two races have a great future together.

  Then Namiko appeared.

  How is she standing at the entrance of my hole?

  Were we closer than I thought?

  She looks at me and the others present.

  Secret service men.

  She asks if we'd like to play some games.

  She starts to undress, suddenly.

  In a second, she's wearing only panties. Lace. Black. I don't know where she got it, but she then begins to rub her body with an ice cube, which, when it touches her skin, melts in tiny droplets that run down along her beautiful form.

  Now take me, she says.

  It was a dream.

  Some infernal invention of my mind.

  I feel like crying.

  The sensation of regaining my freedom was so beautiful... To think that it was just a fiction, and such a realistic one to boot, hurts, a lot.

  Then Namiko reappeared.

  I was ready and willing to be with her.

  But instead, we're just two of the wretched ones, abandoned to ourselves.

  The last survivors of an extinct genus.

  I hate this buzz!

  I thought I had gotten used to it.

  I hate these fans.

  A unnerving rumble.

  I've seriously thought about switching them off.

  Maybe I'm not able to.

  Perhaps this was never envisioned.

  I don't want to consult the manual.

  What if I'm not able to turn them on again?

  What a horrible way to die, by asphyxiation.

  But it would be much worse to expire while oppressed by thirst. Because if no one comes to free us, I think that'll be the first resource to be exhausted.

  Sometimes I wonder why I didn't choose to lead a normal life.

  Then I tell myself that it wasn't my destiny.

  Not with both parents crushed on the asphalt.

  Not with a life spent avoiding looks of pity.

  Not with my best friend torn apart by a bomb.

  Not with the damned aliens, who chose the exact moment when I was in the world to bust humanity's chops.

  The universe has been evolving for almost fifteen billion years, to get to this.

  I don't want to believe it.

  August 11
<
br />   I firmly believed that I would be left to rot; instead, more than one Mission Command has re-established contact.

  No trace of the Italian one.

  It was Mike who told me about it.

  He was excited, with tears in his eyes. How could he not be...

  The American Command appeared shortly afterward on the screen.

  There had been some bloody battles, but thanks to certain strategies, the war had been won.

  Unfortunately, there had been many civilian casualties, especially in Europe.

  The precise extent of the damage wasn't known. Almost all of the communication networks and, in general, lines for transporting goods of primary importance, such as water and electricity, were largely compromised.

  Even many of the satellite systems are gone.

  GPS doesn't exist anymore.

  They didn't tell me so, but I fear that it's the same for Rome. She remained standing for over two thousand seven hundred years, surviving wars, looting, fires and barbarian invasions, but she didn't make it this time. It was too much, even for her.

  The aliens.

  I don't even know where they come from.

  But their exact origin doesn't really matter.

  It's a place that, in all likelihood, will give rise one of those hideous acronyms that astronomers seem to really love when assigning names to stars.

  What really matters is that they've been snuffed out.

  So I heard from all the others.

  A crazy euphoria, stifled only by the news of the end of the Italian and German Commands.

  Franz appeared pretty frayed.

  Perhaps he, unlike me, has important ties to his country?

  Or maybe he was upset by imagining the Brandenburg Gate in ruins?

  I think that's very likely.

  I have a knot in my stomach when I visualize the Colosseum in smithereens, or St. Peter's razed to the ground, with all of its significance and its masterpieces...

  And the dead, so many dead.

  I watched the U.S. Command's message at least a dozen times.

  They always leave out details, too many of them.

  And there was something strange in that American voice, in the way he read the story, and the way he moved.

  A contrived attitude, not human.

  August 15

  Something incredible happened.

  The alarm went off.

  If the war was truly over, why wasn't it deactivated?

  I called the American Command.

  They mentioned the usual problems with the network, due to failures following the battles.

  I'm not a technician, but that sounds like bullshit.

  August 16

  Igor isn't answering any more.

  From the surface, we were told to stay calm, that everything's all right.

  They reached him sooner than expected.

  They went to pick him up.

  They apologized for not telling us immediately, but there are endless things to do.

  At best, it will take a decade to put the world that we left two months ago back together.

  They don't give satisfactory responses to our questions.

  We seem to be hearing classic newspeak.

  Hours of talking, without saying anything.

  I'm sweating.

  I feel anger and fear.

  I don't know, I don't understand what's happening to me, but I can no longer trust anyone.

  To what fate are we condemned if we cannot believe our saviors?

  August 19

  “Sirio, they're coming to get me.”

  Mike's enthusiasm shook the walls of the bunker.

  In his eyes, I saw the joy of regaining freedom, not the look of one whose hopes have been betrayed. He was one of those types who eventually succeed, against everyone and everything.

  I'm sorry, but I don't believe it!

  I didn't tell Mike.

  What good would it have done?

  He wouldn't have paid attention. I imagine he'd think me demented, a melodramatic visionary.

  I decided not to spoil the party.

  Or maybe I'm just feeling envy?

  Igor is out, and Mike will be soon.

  And me?

  Has anyone thought about Bastiani, the Italian?

  I asked the American Command to brief me on my location.

  Where am I?

  They can tell me now.

  There are no security reasons.

  “Why are you so upset, Sirio? Everything's fine. Take it easy, you'll soon see it with your own eyes. It'll be a nice surprise.”

  Brushed off.

  As usual.

  An answer without answers.

  They don't know.

  That's where I am.

  In a place that no one knows.

  I won't worry about what I can't find.

  I'm sure that they'll start to use me, as they did Igor.

  What bothers me is that they don't know the location of this damned hole.

  My God!

  A terrible idea popped into my head.

  What if those bastards from the stars have killed everyone?

  They could have turned off life support and closed off every type of communication.

  For eternity.

  Shit! The alarm!

  It's echoing in my brain.

  Soon it won't let me continue writing.

  The computer will shut this down to eliminate any type of distraction.

  I'm almost tempted to not push that button.

  August 20

  Even the American is offline.

  Namiko calls me, but I don't answer.

  Her resourcefulness that once excited me, now scares me.

  It's possible that she may not want to venture into some erotic pastime, but I don't want to give her the opportunity to try.

  What if she has to tell me something important?

  She can always send me a written message.

  I haven't disabled that feature.

  How disgusting!

  The real food supplies are gone.

  I can't eat any more of the freeze-dried stuff.

  August 21

  Today is my birthday.

  Best wishes, Sirio!

  August 23

  They recovered all the others.

  Franz said goodbye to me sadly.

  He, too, was filled with doubts and frightened about what he might find outside.

  The Australian took his leave and invited us to get together again soon near Sydney, in a more relaxed atmosphere.

  It seems that the oceanic continent hasn't been affected by the war.

  Their own ass as usual is the first thing I thought.

  They always manage to stay out of things, even galactic battles.

  Actually, someone else is still there.

  It's not only yours truly, but Namiko too.

  I was an asshole not to answer.

  I'll contact her soon.

  I'll apologize to her.

  I'll send her a message and plead, if necessary.

  I've realized that I only run from her because she's obsessed with me.

  And now she's the only person left to talk to.

  It's as if the various Commands don't exist.

  I don't feel like listening to their lies.

  I wonder if they know I'm suspicious. I'm the only one of the moles who didn't show a modicum of enthusiasm.

  Even Franz said that, for better or worse, he was happy to get out of that big coffin.

  And what if the coffin is outside?

  What if the only safe place is down here?

  I told you that I'm not happy because I don't trust.

  I don't want to stay here anymore, down below.

  August 24

  She confirmed what an asshole I've been.

  At least she said it in a joking way.

  She's not the kind of woman who's easily offended; she's too smart for that.

  She avoided blamin
g me because she understood the delicacy of the moment: the shame and humiliation regarding our little stunt, the uncertainties of the near future, which is going to be anything but bright; and the anguish that I must feel upon learning that half of Italy has been destroyed.

  No stockings or stilettos.

  A simple jumpsuit and no make-up, just soap and water.

  For a moment, I began to think that I made it all up. That I had lived those erotic moments in a dream.

  “I want to see you again, outside of here.”

  Tylor had said it too, but I think I'm only accepting Namiko's invitation.

  “You're the first and only woman who's ever gotten to me,” I confessed, before she left forever.

  “I know,” she replied brazenly.

  I adore that.

  They're coming to get her today.

  There are a couple of bags behind her.

  She must have the undergarments which made me so dizzy in there. That was the first image that came to mind.

  My obsession.

  “Have you noticed anything strange in the way your Control is behaving?” I asked.

  “Maybe a little, I don't know. I told you that already.”

  “I'm certain there's not a grain of truth in what they've told us.”

  “What do you want to do, stay down there?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Exactly. We don't have a choice.”

  We went on chatting for a while, just talking shit to be honest. To avoid thinking about what she would find outside.

  Then I heard noises coming from the hole on Namiko's side.

  “I think they're opening the hatch.”

  “A free woman.”

  Her face lit up with a seductive smile, the kind that only she has.

  “I'll see you. Don't be a stranger. I'll send you my number so you can call me, although I think that, because of the compromised networks, it might be hard to do.”

  I saw her get close to the computer to send me a file.