Chapter 20: Conclusion

Again, we were up early. Breakfast consisted of taking care of everything perishable, which had us overindulging once more, Elise complaining that Alfred's Body Fat Balancing module would forever be in great demand.

"Maybe you are right, Elise, but it doesn't have to be that way. We dare not get lazy, have to use the gym as much as possible, do a lot of swimming and walking, biking too, and we shall be fine. And of course our home life should be active as well."

We cleaned everything, packed the refuse separately. I sent this parcel to my place because disposal there was easier than they could manage at the mill. Lexa was quite sombre when we said our farewell.

"Bert, I could get used to having you around. Now I can understand why Elise stuck it out with you, you wear well my good friend. Alfred must bring you over often."

"Elise, take great care. I will see you soon. Give my regards to Sabreena and Wilbur."

Alfred made the two link their arms and sent them off together. A right show-off he is. He would transport me over as soon as I got everything ready on my side.

"Go well, Bert. I shall call you later today."

It felt funny to put on all my winter gear on this sunny island so I pushed all the proper buttons quickly and found my home unchanged, the weather still disagreeably cold and wet.

I made myself some coffee and planned my day. Research the net for ways of investing safely and paying minimal tax; have a talk at the bank if I could find something workable. Otherwise, not much to do but to wait for Alfred.

Now isn't it funny that the best way to save on taxes appears to be a charitable trust, the monies I needed or wanted to be paid as compensation for services rendered. I could hardly wait to tell Alfred and Wilbur, they should appreciate the irony if it. And perhaps John Templar could advise me. In the meantime the bank would hold the sum as day money. They liked it.

I wondered when Alfred would call me till I realised that the time difference was against me again. When I heard some ruckus outside and went to investigate there was this feral monster cat squared up to a mongrel dog. Now that dog I detested even more than the cat, because he liked to deposit his disgusting turds right at my doorsteps. I chucked a stone at him and, since he was distracted, connected nicely with his backside. A squeal, a yelp and a rather melancholy bark and the cur was gone.

"Stay," I said to the ugly cat, went to the kitchen and got the remnants of our beach fest out. "Here, take this for your services, on dog and man alike. You did well both times, I hope they never come back."

I thought I must be going bonkers, not only for talking to a dumb animal but because I could almost swear that misbegotten ogre listened to me and understood. In any case, it gobbled up the nice-smelling fishy mess with gusto. That's the late model me, sociable old Berthold, a new friend every day.

To be ready for all eventualities, I started packing my things. The American outfit first – not the goddamn pointed boots though –, a few bottles. I made certain my unit was always close at hand. And I transcribed my list of ancestors from the ahnenpass, which a thoughtful government had insisted be drawn up for my parents before they were allowed to even think about procreating themselves. Heil!

Tried to read the accumulated newspapers but found that I could not work up an interest: the usual building scandals, huge cost overruns, flooded basements on soggy foundations because some ignorant twerp tried to be clever and cheap, whole complexes in danger of collapse; 11 year old kids forcing a nine-year old to drink vodka till he became paralytic, 13 year old girls with 2.5 " alcohol in their blood stabbing their friend near to death because she would not have one more drink. The same old sanctimonious politicians telling us how much they strained and struggled in their unselfish efforts for volk und vaterland, thereby justifying a 15 % increase in pay while, unfortunately, pensioners would have to forego their yearly 0.5 % inflation-linked adjustment since times were so hard and inflation was only running at 3.5 %. When I read that the most corrupt, lying, cheating and grafting prick of them all was now campaigning for law and order, I threw the news rag away in disgust. I did not need this pukey stuff, maybe I should consider relocating to Virginia after all. But would they not be the same, over there?

"Bert? Are you ready to travel?"

"Yes, Alfred, please take me away from this dungeon. Can you shift the parcel first please?"

The parcel was gone in a flash, my humble self followed after and arrived with a bang. That damn Wilbur. The forecourt was a solid sheet of ice, he must have helped nature along here, and it was him directing my flight as it were. He had me drifting in like a tired old Boeing on her final landing approach and even though I had my moving gear fully extended I could not help but shoot, arms flailing for balance, towards the front door. Which same opened like magic just as I was about to crash.

"Oh, hello Bert, you do seem to be in somewhat of a hurry. Please do come in."

Of course the whole gang stood there, laughing like mad, they must depend on me for their comic relief. Since I had my little gadget in my pocket I wondered and ... Indeed, trusty Alfred had forgotten to limit the use of my unit. When he and Wilbur stepped forward to greet me I jumped aside and accelerated the treacherous couple outside with great aplomb. Human cannonballs. They even grabbed onto each other as they tried in vain to stay upright, Wilbur's face a picture of consternation when he realised that he was going to crash into our erstwhile Christmas tree.

"It's nice of you to make me feel welcome, chaps, but there is no need for you to leave, is there?"

"Damn you, Bert, you gave us your word that you would not misuse our stuff. You cannot be trusted."

"Well, neither can you, Wilbur. That patch of ice has your name written all over it. Do brush off the pine needles before you come in."

They did just that and soon we greeted each other as if we had been separated for a few lifetimes. The girls were ecstatic and Wilbur immediately turned on his outside heaters to get rid of the ice.

"Bert, those two have been just about hopeless with their damn tricks. It was high time for payback."

Lexa and Elise agreed they had it coming to them but insisted that we all hand in our units to them for safekeeping.

"This nonsense has to stop – at least for the duration of your stay with us. Who needs adult children? I would rather have the genuine article, all of my own."

When I looked at Sabreena more closely, right through her deep-red blush, I realised that Wilbur must have set back her age already, she looked extremely beautiful and happy. Obviously some meaningful practising had been going on too.

When we sat down to do our planning I mentioned that I would like to have a word with John the lawyer with regard to my funds.

"Why, Berthold, we don't have any funds to invest. And you have not even paid for my new wardrobe yet. I doubt that you need to talk to a lawyer about anything. Except perhaps about debt consolidation."

"Oh sorry, Elise. I forget to tell you that these two crooks which I do sometimes mistake for close friends had me join in their conspiracies. So I am an officer of their exclusive foundation and as such entitled to ample rewards. In fact 267,050 € per year ample."

Elise was thunderstruck. "Is there no end to your surprises? I don't know if I can handle that. What foundation? Is it legal or just a sham? Berthold, I have to know."

Alfred answered her in my stead. "Elise, it is now legal, very much so. This is the money we took from those bastards who messed with your mind. You know that we destroyed them without soiling our hands. We just forgot to tell you about the money side. What they amassed we took from them. We founded the trust to assist needy students but there is so much money that we can all live comfortably too. Think of it as compensation for all the grief they caused you and Bert. Naturally, I expect you to hold the purse strings as do Sabreena and Lexa.

"Hey, I just had a great idea. We will have a branch of the foundation in Germany. Both of you will be officers, both of you will receive stipends. That way Berthold gets to keep some pocket money. Yes, a chat with John is in order. But I shall do that, Bert. He doesn't have to know that you are back so soon."

Elise shook her head disconsolately. "It gets worse and worse. Please Alfred, leave me out of it. I don't think I could handle it, pretending all the time."

"It would not be make-believe, Elise. If we can rig it like that, it would mean for you to stop working and getting involved in selecting deserving students together with me. This is genuine, we do want to put the money to good use: students of history and German studies should benefit the most I think," I told her with great conviction. "And there will be administrative and other duties. You will be entitled to be well-paid, I promise you."

When Sabreena served us her sumptuous lunch it was easy to see that the island had fulfilled its function. Healthier and happier people would not be found anywhere. We talked about Alfred's work on his place and Lexa said that those quaint little books I had given her were a goldmine of great ideas. She had applied for enrolment at a university and expected to be admitted soon.

"Even those silly law courses come in handy now, Bert, since some will be recognised for credits. This will be a good year."

"Alfred, here is the list of my ancestors. Unfortunately, they go back only to the end of the 17th century. But I am certain that our connection, if one does exist, will be much more recent. Not earlier than great-great-grand parents I think."

When I handed him the list he glanced over it quickly, lost all his colour and appeared shaken beyond measure.

"Why, Alfred, what is the matter?" Lexa cried anxiously. "You look as if you are having a stroke."

"Bert, I have to check this very carefully, see if the dates correlate. But at least three of the surnames appearing here came up as possibles when I wrote to Salt Lake City. The Mormons, you remember. Their records are very spotty for that area, they advised me to write to the various villages for excerpts from their books. – Wilbur, how far did you get with calculating the odds of this happening?"

But Wilbur was stunned too. He only said that the answer had to be in the programme itself. Somewhere, somehow Alfred must have written some line of code to help bring this about, perhaps in the way he defined the criteria for the match, perhaps it had to do with his perfidious mind-searches, how should he know? He was just a simple everyday scientist who needed a drink, badly, to keep his sanity.

Nobody did mind when he served drinks all round. To expect something, to hope for it is far removed from making it a certainty and even though nothing at all had been confirmed yet we knew that this had to be beyond coincidence and the implications were overwhelming.

It was up to Wilbur to break the tension. "For once, Alfred, even Bert is speechless. You have done well, have another drink."

"Thank you, Bert. It took me a long time to see it that way, but now I do understand why you thought that this list would be a superlative gift. I was afraid, almost, of what I would find, am afraid even now to go further in my search. But I have to, I must find out."

Wilbur urged us to go outside for a little glow and some men talk. He was very succinct. "Guys, I found that son-of-a-bitch prickhead who abused Lexa. Yes, Alfred, you should have been the one but I could not wait. I am getting very impatient because I have promised myself that I will not start making paper before everything is cleared up. I can't work with bad vibes running through me, I tried it. So, what is it going to be?"

Whatever idea we came up with was discarded as too lenient for his crimes. In the end it was I who spelled it out. "Look, let's stop beating about the bush. This is different from CareWell. They were evil at long distance, but there is nothing remote here. He enjoyed it. And since it has no bearing on our island we can do it without spoiling anything. In fact, I would love to do it, nobody should have to suffer like Lexa."

"Yes, Bert, we all want to do away with him and we shall do it together. But how are we going to do it?"

We agreed without hesitation that torture was out, we couldn't stomach it. But what about Alfred's mind-search, could he create subliminal awareness of Lexa coming after him to get her revenge, start some kind of autohypnosis with the successive appearance of various nasty syndromes, skin rashes, vomiting, dysentery and such, so that they would consume themselves?

"Wilbur, is that woman alive still? She is? Then she will have to share his fate. She pressed the pillows over Lexa's face to stifle her screams, she is an inhuman monster too."

We decided to take time out for it and start from Wilbur's mill. And I insisted that Lexa should not be part of this little undertaking. Alfred went inside to get his laptop and told the girls that we had a bit of work to do, we would not be long. He had to retrieve his unit from Lexa for that, sorry love.

"I would have preferred to do it from my building, chaps, but this may well take a few days so we are better off here."

Preparations were extremely thorough. The couple was living in Pittsburgh now and still had foster children in their care. Our first objective was to get the children to safety and achieved that with a call to the local Child Welfare Office. Apparently there had been some suspicion already. They acted without delay, we could watch them on Alfred's beautiful zoom maps, three teenage children, boys, who did not look very sad about their departure. No tears were shed, they did not look back.

Then Wilbur set up his gun outside. Not the one he had used for CareWell but a much bigger model with a massive tripod and highly precise levelling devices. He was very happy to explain everything to me. Set it up perfectly level, establish its exact geo-position and calculate the trajectory from the distance and target position Alfred supplied.

"Bert, this instrument is extremely accurate. Since we shall do the shooting in our time, there is no windage to consider, no outside influence whatsoever. We have practised with it over various distances and can do it with ease: establish mass and density of the projectile, calculate the energy we need for our objective, double-check the trajectory and send it away. Speed will be subsonic, distance is only 407 of your kilometres, less than an hour is all it's going to take."

"Magic, Wilbur, but what are you hitting them with? We don't want them to get off easy, do we?"

"No, Bert, this is just to plant the seeds in their minds. The projectile will disintegrate into minuscule particles a split second before it reaches the target. But the tiny specks will have enough energy and mass to penetrate the tin roof and ceilings of their house. Think of it as dust. And this dust is the carrier of my mind-search capacity. They will notice an irritation, will feel the need to scratch a lot but that is all. I take over immediately, insinuating Lexa's revenge in their minds, start the autohypnosis and we just watch as I induce the proper symptoms. That is along the lines of what that hacker did when he fumbled the programme. It won't be fun but they will get what they deserve. Wilbur, are you ready? Then do it, please."

"Yes, Alfred, here we go."

Wilbur pressed his remote release and there was a muted noise like a gun being fired far away, a heavy gun. Nothing could be seen however and we went inside to watch proceedings on Alfred's screen. Wilbur was certain that he was on target and used the time to pour drinks for us.

"There we go now. Watch, Bert. – Did you see it?"

For a fraction of a second I saw it. A puff of dust, no more. The noise was neglectable, like pouring a handful of hard rice into a pan. The effect could be seen as soon as Alfred linked up with them.

"Damn, where does this dust come from? Hell, this shit is itchy. You should vacuum more often, you lazy cow. Do it now, you have the time since you let them take the brats away. What are you saying about that bitch Lexa, dammit?"

"I did not say anything, stupid, but I hear her too. She is screaming about revenge. And ranting about horrible diseases which will befall us. Do something for God's sake, you used to screw her all the time."

That heavy stuff worked like a bomb. But it was Alfred's mind-search which did all the damage. It became obvious that the charming couple would not be able to hold out very long. Already they were at loggerheads with each other, shouting abuse and scratching like mad.

Alfred sat at his keyboard, a picture of concentration, as he inflicted one curse after the other on them.

"Alfred, finish them quick. It sickens me to watch these revolting people."

Wilbur was more sensitive than we had given him credit for, yet Alfred was adamant that we do not shorten their trials. We did not have to watch if we could not stand it.

"I cannot imagine Lexa living with these vile people. Each day must have been sheer hell. But where was Child Welfare when she needed them? How could they not have noticed what was going on?"

We were a very depressed lot, could not talk about anything of consequence, Wilbur did not want to chat about his paper, insisted that he was in an unclean state of mind. Finally, at the end of our day we could not take it any longer. We looked.

She had ripped her clothes off, was lying in a bloody heap on the floor, a revolting sight, her obscenely gaunt body scratched and bleeding, her breath a froth of bubbles from her broken mouth, her nose mashed completely flat, eyes hammered shut.

If possible he was in even worse condition. He too had torn off his clothing, his gross hulk was puddled in his excrement, and he had flayed his penis to bloody shreds. But his eyes, damn it, his eyes were the worst. Locked wide open, unseeing, they told of unmentionable horrors real or imagined. Hideous trails of snot were running down to his chin, his lips moving soundlessly, incessantly.

Gently, with greatest care, Wilbur reached over and touched Alfred's hand. "Alfred, enough. Show Bert how to end it. Bert?"

Almost paralysed, Alfred pointed weakly to a few lines on his screen. There were still more plagues listed, ready to be inflicted. We would not indulge ourselves. Only the final punishment to be meted out.

"Conclude revenge on two subjects?"

Bloody right.

"Induce suffocation? This action will be terminal – cancel or confirm twice."

The warning was given in bright red. I did not even waste a last glance at the odious tormentors. Yes. Yes.

I had killed them. We heaved one great collective sigh, Wilbur shut down the computer and took us back into early evening, real time.

"There is only one answer to something as evil and foul as we have witnessed now, chaps. Let us get stinking drunk."

When we were woken sometime in the night by our fierce hangovers and an even worse thirst, we still felt dirty beyond reason. Alfred got up, stripped to the buff without a word and went outside. Baffled we followed him on his way to the pond, were he submerged himself completely, without a sound and hardly a splash.

"Bert?"

"Yes, Wilbur, a better way of cleaning ourselves than any other. We have befouled ourselves with that lot. Let's do atonement too."

We ducked under in the brutally cold water for as long as we could stand it. With chattering teeth, blue lips and shrunken genitals we fumbled our way back into our clothes.

"Thank God we did this on our own. We would be of no use to our mates now."

As so often, Wilbur had come up with the good words to relieve the tension and when I suggested that we walk away the remaining funk they both agreed. We dressed for the cold night and set off in the bleak moonlight, partners in crime and soul, walking quietly past the house where the girls were sleeping, following the silent stream into the silent night.

We stopped at the crest of a small hill, looking out towards the plain and back towards Wilbur's houses, aware of the enormous toll our actions had exacted.

"Wilbur, I am certain you got that handy flask hidden on you. Bring it out now, I need the courage to speak. – Thank you.

"We have come full circle. We have experienced the best and the worst of heavy matter, programming and mind-bending. We have grown up at last, are adults in both worlds. What we did was necessary. Even so, we have become judge and executioner and the price for this is steep: we shall forever have it on our conscience and it will have to remain our secret, never to be shared.

"But our reward is even greater. Lexa will be healthy and sound now and for that I am grateful beyond measure, the price was not too high for that and I paid gladly. I am proud that we were strong enough to do it together, proud to be here with you now, my friends. Cheers."

"Thank you, Bert, and cheers to you."

The remainder of the night was slept away easily. Unfortunately we had not thought what our use of real time would do to the girls. They had been worried when we did not come back after the usual five minutes, wanted to come for us. Sheepishly we admitted getting drunk and having to sleep it off. Sorry.

It was not sufficient to put them at ease, that much was obvious, but they did not force the issue. When Elise asked me what I was going to do for the rest of the day, I mentioned that I wanted to see Wilbur making paper. Then Alfred could pop me back since there was no need for me to see the lawyer, my business finished.

"Oh no, you will not go back just like that. After you are done with that paper business we should have a proper feast again. Not on the island but right here. Elise has come up with some great recipes and I am dying to try that crusty roast you guys pigged out on."

"With other words, Sabreena will be fattening us up for slaughter, Bert. I wonder what they have been up to while we were not here. But come, I am very keen to experiment, they will tell us soon enough what our fate is slated to be."

Wilbur's set-up was beautiful. He had tiled floor and walls and the bright lights and pleasantly warm air made working a pleasure. Everything was ready but he was hesitant to take the first step. How much fibre did he need, how much water, and what about the chemicals?

"Wilbur, you will only find out by testing, so I suggest we use a small tub, about fifty litres of water and pulp for roughly 40 sheets of 8 x 10 paper.

"The first few sheets should be entirely without chemicals, to give you a feel for the fibres, we will be adding stuff after that. This will take quite a while, better take us into your special time, then. With nourishment of course."

To work with Wilbur was pure joy. He had done everything by the book. A tub was ready, water and fibre added, the moulds and deckles handy. A pile of felts moistened. He wanted me to make the first sheet.

"No, Wilbur, you do it. You know how."

He was so nervous his hands shook. I poured him a good shot of our standard medicine and told him to go ahead. With a deep breath he inserted mould and deckle into the pulp, brought it out level and shook it gently to and fro, backwards and forwards, a study in concentration. Then he said that the book was a bit vague on how that damn couching business should be done, would I show him? I took the frame off the mould, turned the mould upside down after some draining time and pressed it to the felt in a rolling motion. He was amazed at how easy it all looked when the sheet came off the mould smoothly.

"It is easy, Wilbur. At least with this kind of fibre. Others are more difficult to couch off and the thinner the paper the more dicey it gets. You will get the hang of it soon. Try it again, if it does not come out right we just throw it back into the pulp."

We spent a few very pleasant hours with all kinds of experiments. It was easy to do since we had all equipment available and plenty of room for everything. We made paper with and without watermark, added sizing and starch and gelatine, made thicker or thinner paper as the mood took him. Wilbur was a very happy man.

Since his workshop provided for it, we force-dried the sheets after pressing and then pressed them again for smoothness. Now we had something to show for our labours. Wilbur fondled the sheets, held them up into the light, checked the watermark, mumbled about some unevenness he would have to get rid of, some minor knots in the fibres he did not like.

"It seems to me, Wilbur, that you have found your true calling. You have to die soon and come back to make Sabreena happy. I hope that Alfred and Lexa will prosper just as much, they deserve it too."

We decided to close shop for the day and sat around, had a few drinks and drifted into some deep talks. We certainly had enough weighty issues to consider.

"Bert, what we have done is almost beyond comprehension. The purely physical side of it would leave most people stranded. But the humanitarian aspects are even more daunting. Think about it: your experiences with the healing, how the two of you coped with the challenges, the personal element, your and Alfred's likeness, the CareWell disaster and what we had to do yesterday, your black eye, Elise and, not least, what you did for Lexa and Alfred.

"Yes, Alfred spoke to me about it, he had to tell somebody because it nearly broke him. Your actions there make that episode with Sabreena hilarious beyond belief. I explained to him that what Elise did for him and what you refused to do for Lexa was on a different level entirely. – Mind you, how you were able to resist temptation is beyond me. – He said that you told him the same thing but that he could not understand how you and Elise could treat this so cavalier. He is hung up on the concept of trust, believes that he failed you, failed you badly, twice."

"I am not a naturally likeable fellow, Wilbur, I don't have all that many friends and developing friendships takes a long time and lots of patience from whoever cares enough to bother with me. But if Alfred told you about this trust business then he must also have told you what we found out about the effects of his bio-feedback and the healing. On the island I could feel him in my mind, could even talk to him long distance, he talked to me. Elise and Lexa felt it too but did not get as far as chatting. Had it not been for this insight into his mind, who knows, I might have failed Alfred. I do know that I have never been closer to any people, and that includes Elise, than I am to Alfred and Lexa.

"And, Wilbur, when I was sitting on that barrel with Sabreena, where you found us, I felt exceptionally close to her as well. The funny thing is, I can talk to Alfred with my mind only on the island but not here, yet I feel just as close all the time. I am very much in sync with you too, Wilbur, as you should know, but you do keep a mental barrier in place, even against Alfred. Understand that I am not prying here, just stating a fact. Acceptance is forever the main part of any relationship.

"Should you be so mean with your hooch, though? Pour from my half if you must. Speeches do make me thirsty. One last thing, Wilbur: thank you very much for that enormous shooting star you produced for us. Brilliant, out of this world, really."

Wilbur was taken aback by what I had said. He poured stiff drinks for us and admitted that, yes, he could also get very close to Alfred and me at times, but that his withdrawal was the result of having to protect himself at this silly university.

"I am a major failure in diplomacy and infighting. When the physics chair became vacant, it was commonly assumed that I would fill it. That professor type knew better. Within a week he courted that homely and eager daughter of the dean's, married her within two months. That would not suffice in itself, of course, everybody knew what a witless proll he was, so he took to slandering me. Instead of fighting back I told the dean to look elsewhere to fill the seat. Had it not been for Alfred I would have resigned then, he made my stay worthwhile. But from then on the mental block was put firmly in place.

"However, Bert, I am determined to accept whatever will happen in my remaining years. I have learned to never overexpect or overreach. This keeps disappointments at a trifling level. The only time I ignored my rules is with this heavy matter. And look where it got me, dammit.

"But come, enough of this bloody bonsai philosophy, let's gather up a few sheets of my precious paper and join the plebs. I want to show off. I am also feeling dizzy from the fearsome heights our conversation has reached."

The man would not relent, would not allow his bastions to be breached. I felt for him.

The crowd was thoroughly impressed with Wilbur's products, Elise even mentioning cattily that the paper looked as good as what I fabricated in my basement and Lexa claimed a few of the heavier sheets to practise her calligraphy.