The Devil's Fate (7 page)

“Lae, I don’t believe this conversation will ever lead to a mutually acceptable solution.”

“Mrs. Lewis, when you understand that my reasoning is the only one possible, your mind will find peace, you’ll see.”

“How can you even think that economics is the worst way of finding happiness? How can you even consider the fact that the two are linked? Your argument doesn’t hold water.”

“Try looking at it from another perspective and emphasizing within the whole what is joined together and what stands alone. Economics unites humanity, true. No other force has been able to do that and no other ever will. But the flip side of the coin, like an equation trying to balance itself, is that the only thing that makes this power unique is the fact of being able to wield it. An individual is never happy about having to work; he only does it in the hope that one day he’ll get to be on the other side of the fence, telling others to do what he’s now being told to do. But that way, he’ll spend his whole life grubbing for profit, looking for a get-out that will raise him to the throne of the chosen few who, in his mind, will be the only ones worthy of living life, and casting aside all the pleasures and emotions he was taught to recognize during the brief period he was pure, before being catapulted into the machine we call economics.”

“And don’t you think that once this hypothetical individual has reached his goal, everything will fall into place and he’ll find peace and happiness?”

“That’s the whole point. His entire life will be dedicated to the pursuit of success instead of happiness. And even if someone did manage to succeed early enough in life to enjoy the rest, the theory only applies to one person. It falls apart if we include every single individual.”

“So you reckon that one man in a thousand will manage to be happy? How do you plan to solve the problem?”

“By substituting love for economics. Happiness is always tied to an emotion and the queen of all emotions can only be love. Love for a woman, a fellow human being, a job, nature. If we do something for money, we don’t care about the means, only the end that will bring a profit, a prize. However, if we did something only for love, then we would care about everything that surrounds us, whether spiritual or physical. Our happiness would be inextricably bound to the happiness of another person, or to a job that fulfills us, or to the things our planet makes us see or feel simply by looking at it. In that context, time wouldn’t matter and neither, by default, would profit. Do you really believe that the maxim “time is money” was coined in a moment of madness? It was invented by the same people who created the greatest power of all, namely economics.”

“And what would you do with the people who didn’t agree with your way of thinking? Put them in prison? Torture them? How could you explain love to them if the only thing that matters to them is money and, consequently, according to you, indifference and hate? And if you had to hurt them in order to convert them to your idea of absolute love, wouldn’t that clash with your entire theory? How can you create love without killing off hate?”

He had been looking for an answer to that question all his life. Until the day he had decided to postpone his search to a more suitable moment, whilst relaxing on his yacht off some coast, perhaps, sipping at a fruit drink. And thanks to postponing it indefinitely, he now found himself stuck in a crowd, holding a case he considered sacred, ready to abandon all the good he had sought, but convinced nevertheless of being completely different from everyone else. Suddenly, he realized that he was part of a multitude of people who knew absolutely nothing about what he was looking for. No matter. His life was changing. He held the passport to the kind of happiness he had always wanted; he would buy the answer to the damned question. His head cleared. His mind applauded the thought of a victory he was already savoring. A feeling of freedom accompanied him towards his pre-ordained goal. All he had to do was give in to his desire to go and leave the uncontemplatable behind. But as with all unsolvable situations that try to find a solution in reason, Norman’s thoughts were again interrupted and cast into the future.

Granted, he might well live a dream, but he would most certainly recall the moment when he made up his mind to leave everything behind; his conscience was therefore taking him back to the precise point in time where he no longer wanted to be, namely, exactly where he was. It may have been the lessons learned from his experiences or simply his nature, but something was telling him to check the impulses that had brought him to that particular moment. He would never be able to forgive himself if he didn’t, even with all that money. Maybe that someone in the park might be able to help him.

Chapter 10

“Three, two, one, goooo!” Paul loved watching his son play on the swings. It was one of the few times when he managed to understand his purpose in life. Making someone happy is a difficult task for anyone. Attempting it with someone who lacks the cognitive capacities of others is like scaling the highest mountain in the world completely naked. But he never complained. He accepted what life offered without making a fuss. He believed in fate more than God. When his son was born, he had known perfectly well how hard it would be to spend each day with him and never be able to look him in the eye. But he hadn’t cared. He and his wife, Celine, were happy anyway with their autistic child; they loved him to bits and he had given them great joy. His aptitude for numbers was exceptional. There wasn’t a mathematical problem he couldn’t solve. When he was agitated, they made him sit at the table with a math book he could talk to while he ate his favorite food: bread spread with chocolate.

The door bell rang. Paul put the newspaper on the table and heaved himself out of the comfortable chair on the verandah. He wasn’t fond of visitors, especially those who came unannounced. Celine was in the shower, so it was up to him to see who it was. Standing outside the door were two men in jackets and ties and dark glasses. One thing he had learned in life was that you should never trust anyone wearing shades. Eyes and their expressions are what make a first impression on people, and as far as he was concerned, the shades were a barrier and a sign of bad manners. It was like trying to be invisible, like spying on someone without wanting to be seen. He was reluctant to open the door, but good manners had been systematically drummed into him from an early age by his parents.

“Good morning. We work for the Institute of Mathematical Sciences. We’d like to speak to your son.”

That introduction was worse than their appearance. He had met many people at the institutes where he had taken his son to participate in competitions, but no one had ever dressed or behaved like that, and in any case, everyone knew about his son’s condition. His diffidence made the tone of his voice sound grimmer than a threat.

“My son can’t be spoken to. It’s patently obvious that you two aren’t teachers, so don’t give me any school bullshit.”

They were crushed by embarrassment, as if a boulder had landed on them from the top of a mountain.

“OK, we’ll get straight to the point. We’d like to offer him a great opportunity.”

“Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear. My son is very ill and there’s no way he can distinguish one kind of opportunity from another. Try telling me and I’ll see if I can help you.”

The two men exchanged glances and then the older one continued.

“We apologize. We weren’t aware of that. We do know your son was by far the most brilliant contestant in the last mathematics Olympics.”

“Yeah, well... I already knew that. So what? Has he won another prize?”

“Not yet, sir. If we could just come in for a second...”

“My son is resting at the moment and can’t be disturbed.”

“Oh, of course, sir. I’ll be brief. Your son might be able to help us solve a key problem of national importance.”

“Ah, I see. National importance in the hands of an autistic boy! That’s a good one. With all the geniuses in the world, not to mention the American government, this is the best solution you’ve come up with? I ought to feel relieved. Heaven only knows how you manage to deal with terrorists!”

“I’m sorry, sir. I don’t wish to interrupt your fun here, but it’s an urgent matter.”

“All right, all right. What’s the big issue then?”

“Well... we’d like to show your son several sheets of paper to see whether he can find a solution to the enigma.”

“You won’t be giving my son anything I haven’t looked at first. Those are my terms. Otherwise, turn right around and head back to your car. I don’t think it’ll be hard for you to find the road back to your bosses.”

The two men looked uncertainly at each other. They couldn’t afford to waste any more time and there was no other way of ending the stalemate. The younger man slipped several sheets from a folder and handed them to Paul.

“OK, let’s see what this big problem is that needs the help of a fifteen-year-old autistic boy.”

He leafed through the pages, one by one. Thanks to his son, he had learned to recognize most of the questions set in intelligence tests.

“Now then, let’s have a look. Quantum theories, trigonometry, analyses... just a minute! Not this! No way! If you’re here for prime numbers, you can go right back to where you came from. You’re not going anywhere near my son with that blasted equation that doesn’t exist anyway. Damn it to hell. Nobody can demonstrate a thing like that!”

“Forgive me, but perhaps we can find a solution...”

“You don’t understand. The solution you’re looking for doesn’t exist!”

“We’ve brought something that might convince you.”

They opened a bag brimming with hundred-dollar bills.

“A million, and that’s only the start. Your son almost cracked it once, but maybe you need a small incentive to go all the way.”

“You bastards! You think your money will buy everything, don’t you? You’ve been sent here with one aim in mind and to get it at any cost. But money means as little to me as your pathetic performance. Tell your bosses to try buying the damn solution!”

Paul slammed the door in their faces, putting an end to further discussion.

Chapter 11

Norman sidled up to a figure sitting on a bench. The purple scarf around his neck stood out from all the other colors that autumn had bequeathed.

“Come and sit down. I won’t bite, you know.”

The man’s look was ambiguous. Norman felt as if he had known him for ever. He recognized the man from the bar, the one he had spoken to before he had gone downstairs with the girls.

“It’s you! Damn you!”

He started to lunge toward him, as if he intended to wring his neck, and he couldn’t understand what was preventing him.

“Calm down, my friend. Sit down here next to me.”

He had the same soothing tone of voice that made Norman oblivious to any distress. He couldn’t even hold on to his anger; instead, he felt a wonderful inner peace. He could have fallen asleep and forgotten all his worries, leaving his memories to time, ready to learn the best way of starting a new life.

“Who are you?”

“As I told you before, my name is Luc, but that doesn’t matter. What does matter is what I can offer you.”

“What would you have to give me that’s so great? Not more girls to lure me into a state of bliss and then commit suicide right under my nose?”

“Ah. That was a slight hitch in plans. Unfortunately, certain people are adept at double-dealing and their power is so great it confounds even me.”

“So, what happened in that bloody room? Did you know I was almost arrested?”

“You know very well that the only risk you ran was to wallow in seventh heaven, so let’s forget that unpleasant interlude. Let’s talk about what has to be done instead.”

“How the hell can I forget? Who’s Daisy? Why did she kill her friends? How did the Police know what was going on?”

“Cut it out!”

His voice had suddenly turned harsh and made it impossible to reply. Norman’s mind went into a trance; he couldn’t remember why, but the man’s words calmed him and made him forget his anxiety.

“You know why you’re here, don’t you?”

“To find answers.”

“That’s my boy. You see, if you put your mind to it, you can do anything. Now listen carefully. Your life has changed radically over the last few hours. Someone is playing with you. The one thing you must do now is avoid trusting anyone, only yourself and your instincts. When this is all over, you’ll understand that the only thing to do is find the truth and beat the sickness that was eating at you until you came here. I am the light. If you believe in me, you’ll save yourself and everyone you hold dear in this life. All you have to do is find the man who stole what’s yours.”

“O’Neal!”

“Precisely! And when you find him, you know what you’ve got to do, don’t you?”

“What’s in it for you if I get back what’s mine?”

“What I care about most: your life and happiness!”

“How do you know what makes me happy?”

“I know more about you than you think. You only have to search now. When you’ve completed your task, everything will sort itself out and you’ll finally understand it all.”

Without another word, he got up and faded into the fog that had woven its blanket in the meantime. Norman sat alone, in the most deafening silence he had ever heard. He felt dazed, but at the same time more than ever determined to seek answers. He glanced around. The fog was thinning rapidly, taking with it the sense of peace that had filled him. He was consumed with a hatred he had never felt before. The park was suddenly crowded with people and their shrill voices pierced his eardrums. He didn’t notice the couple next to him until the boy murmured in his girlfriend’s ear those words that expressed the essence of a whole life.

I spoke to a dream and realized it was afraid...

I called to an emotion and it told me to be happy...

I decided to go far away to see how and where infinity ends.

Until I found love, which called me by name and told me I had arrived...

Again, Norman savored the sensation he had felt when he wrote about that beautiful emotion.