The Barcode (Final)

A pleasant and refreshing wind blew hard against the two young men, as soon as the airport exit door opened and they found themselves on the outside, where series of taxis were queuing and departing with passengers and their luggage in a frantic and almost constant pace.

A dark-haired man in his mid-thirties, came up and asked where they were going to, but the two young men were focused on looking for a familiar head among the many who were standing along the boardwalk. The man insisted, but the two said they were waiting for someone, giving him less importance than he wanted.

The airport sliding doors opened and closed every few seconds, but they did not spot who they had hoped to see.

- I'm going back inside. Something might have happened...

- No. You're not! Do you think that in the midst of this mess, you'll find someone? Let's get out of here before it's too late. Enough of this story and these strange people.

The man, who was still around, insisted in offering them a different shuttle service, cheaper than the taxis. They tried to dismiss him, but he was very persistent. The boys then realized that if they were going to take a standard taxi they would have to wait in a line, which seemed to get longer as the minutes passed on and the cars were not so many anymore, so they decided to accept the other man’s offer.

- OK. OK. Where's the car?

- Right there, sir, in the parking lot. I cannot stop here, as I am not registered in this 'mafia' of airport taxis.

He was clearly dissatisfied with the existing system and just shook his head and moved on, with the two young men following him to where the car would be.

The boy wearing glasses still looked back one last time to make sure he would see the girl, but, amid the tumultuous back-and-forth of people on the sidewalk, it would be impossible to distinguish her head, among so many others. The other man just pulled him by the arm.

- Let's go! Forget it. It is time to go back to the base and to our normal life. It seems that even on holidays we still can’t stay away from these scrapes!

Shaking his head gloomily, the young man crossed the street and entered the parking lot, where the driver was waiting by the car, a shining black van. Someone had spent some time polishing it, contrary to what they would expect. The windows were covered with dark film which was the standard use in the transport cars of the second largest city in the country.

The man was dressed as a chauffeur with a black suit and a white shirt. His tie was in chalk stripe patterns, inclined at an angle to the right in different shades of blue, ranging from cerulean to cobalt on a navy blue background.

He opened the car trunk and carefully accommodated their backpacks in there. The two got into the back of the car, buckled their seat belts and told him where they wanted to go to. The man turned the ignition on and the door locks were automatically activated. He drove around and through the gate, which automatically opened and got out of the parking lot.

Turning right, on the street parallel to the main avenue, he slowed down and pulled over. The passenger front door was opened and a young woman, her hair arranged in a long black braid, came in and sat down beside him. She buckled the seat belt and said, without looking back:

- Let's go. Fast!

The two passengers were speechless. The driver sped up and it was only then that they realized that beneath the dark hair on the back of his head, the tip of a tattoo they knew very well appeared and caused them not only astonishment but also a certain fear.

***

The car, parked in an almost deserted area of ​​a large park of containers, was almost incognito at the appropriate place where a meeting could go practically unsuspected. The driver was standing in front of the car, talking to the girl. The two young men were locked in the car, unable to leave or hear the conversation, but could see that there was some conflict between them.

Another black car approached and stopped right in front of the first one. A large man with the shaved head, wearing a tight black t-shirt evidencing the muscles of his arms and torso came out of it. It was the character that was missing and that they had seen before on several other occasions.

The man exchanged a few words with his colleagues and came toward the other car, where the two boys were locked in.

- Who are you, anyway? Any terrorist group or is it part of a crazy sect? What do you want from us?

The boy wearing glasses was impatient and angry. That story seemed to be going too far and, up to that moment, completely beyond their understanding. His friend, who was still quiet, feared for their lives, but did not comment anything at all. He waited for the man with shaved head, who seemed to be their leader, to speak.

- This is not a crazy sect. We are trained soldiers just like you.

- Soldiers? Trained soldiers for battle? A war?

It was the girl who replied.

- Not exactly. More on the contrary... to prevent one...

- What war?

- A stupid and silent war: the self-destruction of mankind...

- That's crazy! And why are we involved in it, anyway?

- Our presence was never supposed to be noticed. We thought we were being unsuspected until you followed us the first time. Interference of any kind could jeopardize the success of what we had to do... and this could have very serious consequences in the future.

- In the future? This conversation is totally meaningless. You cannot be taken seriously. This is insane.

The young man wearing glasses thought he was dealing with a group of fundamentalists, in which a strange brainwashing was given, making them dangerous and fearless terrorists, with homicidal and probably also suicidal dispositions.

- And you were sent by whom, for God's sake?

- The correct question is not 'by whom?' More properly, it should be: 'from where?'... Or perhaps, even better, 'from when?'...

The two young soldiers looked at each other.

- We came from the future. Our mission is to prevent the uncontrolled overpopulation before it is too late.

The soldier tried to keep calm, knowing that those people were completely demented and, to make matters worse, they believed what they were saying. He, however, had to ask a question, which seemed crucial at the time.

- And how will you do it?

- Using a more effective and permanent contraception method. In fact, the objective is to sterilize more than sixty percent of mankind.

- But that's crazy! How can it be humanly possible?

- This is only a preventive measure, like so many others that have happened in the history. People do not realize that the objective is much deeper. Sterilization is only part of the plan and is for the greater good.

- Castrate more than half the population is a greater good? Don’t you think you are being too radical and senseless?

- Not really! In the future we are devoid of a number of weaknesses that people of this time have and that are considered risky behaviours. This action is necessary for the science to advance. No one will notice anything, because the effect is not obvious. Until scientists reckon that humanity was somehow poisoned, it will take a while. When those responsible realize, it will be almost too late. The Earth aged and barren population will lead to a radical drop in its growth. Science will have to rush with control actions to curb the inevitable decline of the human race. Cloning is the only way out... and the necessary evil... We have already planted a tiny seed in the minds of the researchers of a certain laboratory, using money to be invested in biotechnology. We need to be taken seriously and to a lesser term, to help us help the future...

- We ourselves have been produced in a controlled series, with the best genetic material, scientifically engineered to be fault-free and physically invulnerable by the same laboratory. We are marked with bar codes instead of names. In our case, we have a mission to accomplish and a predefined lifetime. None of us has existed for over a year, unless...

The man with the shaved head directed a very meaningful glare at her. She still looked at the 'driver' who, until then, remained silent, but she could not finish the sentence.

One of the young soldiers did not realize the subtlety of what happened at that time. Although still in doubt, he was more concerned to explore all the possibilities and try to understand the story. Were those people really sent soldiers from the future? The speech was, in a way, quite credible, although extremely fantastic.

- And the rest of the planet will continue untouched? What will happen in the future with the animals, plants, the sea and all this beauty?

- Nothing like those will exist any longer, if we leave things as they are. The uncontrolled growth in population will result in a very serious problem, with exponential effects and a lack of sustainability, which will lead to a consequent global crisis. Hunger will create chaos and despair. Consequently, the destruction will also be exponential. Even the money and riches will have no value, since there will be nothing much to buy and the production will be inadequate to meet all needs. That is why we were sent to take urgent action before it was too late. Indeed, it is already quite late and the lab itself is in great danger...

- The process, now, however, has already started. There is no time to undo it. It is impossible to go back...

- Already? In what way?

- In many parts of the world, our soldiers have followed the orders received, exactly, triggering one calculatedly efficient and effective process. The effects of this will be perceived too late. There will be no way to reverse what has been unleashed in the recent days. Our mission here is complete. Now we just have to go back to the time where we came from.

- So why did you bring us here?

- To prevent your interference would spread the panic around. When you began to follow us, we were afraid that you would put the operation at risk. When we parted, we created a necessary distraction and ensured that the plan would still go on, without any interference.

- But we can boycott this plan. This can still go very wrong...

- Do you think you have a chance? You will not even know where to start. You don’t know the procedure or what have been started. If you want to denounce us, as if that were even possible, what evidence would you have to show? You will be taken as crazy or drug addicts. Everything will sound like a distant dream or any schizophrenic hallucination... Moreover, we will no longer be around here... 

The shaved-headed man looked at the other man and stopped talking.

The boy wearing glasses soon realized that there was a subliminal message in that break, but did not ask anything. What could this man, seemingly harmless, have, that nagged these people?

***

- We have to go back. We have very little time now.

A phone rang. The man answered, frowning.

- But that was not in the plans!

A rather altered voice was heard on the other end. The man was silent, listened and finally relented.

- OK. So will be!

When he switched it off, he walked silently to the car and came back within a few seconds with an automatic gun in his hand. The soldiers realized that is was fitted with a silencer...

Before anyone could even express any reaction, he pointed the gun and fired without hesitation, to the surprise of everyone.

The young woman fell, with a bullet hole in her head, and a broad line of blood dripping like a thick red stream on the grass.

The man then turned around and pointed to the driver, pressing the trigger again.

The driver, in an unexpected and desperate gesture, threw himself against the other man and the two began a strange fight. The two young soldiers joined immediately to help immobilize the killer, knocking him to the ground.

In the confusion, as always happens when you dispute the possession of a loaded gun, there was the sound of a muffled shot. And then, the group stopped fighting...

***

The driver, who had been injured seconds before starting the fight, lay on his back, unconscious, with part of his head covered with blood, a little behind the two young men. The man with shaven head, who had triggered the weapon against his own body during the fight, had a dark and wet stain spreading in the middle of his chest and tinting the ground red, almost next to the body of the murdered girl. The gun was still in his hand and his finger still on the trigger...

The two young soldiers got up and started walking quickly toward the black van. The driver moved as they passed by him. He rubbed his head and moaned, touching the still bleeding wound. The two soldiers got down and without much thought, carried him away with them to the car in which they were before, tucking him in the back seat and leaving at high speed.

***

The sea was calm, as if all the storms of all times, had gone for once and as if the waves and the movement of water were only the chords of a soft lullaby or a repetitive and soothing mantra.

The three men were standing side by side, each with their own thoughts, watching the sea and a few people passing by, without realizing what was happening behind the scenes of life and that could put them in serious danger. The young man wearing glasses broke the silence.

- We have not decided what we will do with the information we were given...

- We will not do anything. That cannot be taken seriously. It was crazy... We will never know the truth...

The two young soldiers looked at the other man, who remained impassive, without any reaction to what they have just said. His life was saved by the two and he owed them more than a simple thank you. The man took a deep breath as if his intention was to absorb the iodine and salty air from the ocean one last time. He closed his eyes for a moment, then spoke quietly.

- We have avoided talking about this for a long time...

- Maybe it's more than time to talk even.

- There is not much else to talk about. I don’t remember much before the incident... accident... whatever it was...

- Great! What a beautiful story! And we will never be able to confirm anything, after all.

- I remember taking part in a very hard military training... and to have been sent before this group of soldiers... I recall having poured the drug in the water supplies... then everything else is blurry and confusing...

- The drug in the water? Was it the method used to sterilize the population? That’s madness...

- It was necessary. That's what we were sent here for. The laboratory was under pressure and the invasion was imminent... Funny I do not remember anything before the training... as if it had never happened...

- Or as if it had been erased from your memory... for some reason...

The man stopped talking and closed his eyes again, leaning on the metal guard rail at the beach front with his head hanging down.

The two soldiers did not know what to think, say or do... Those memory fragments absurdly told a compelling and, at the same time, misplaced story, but it made no connection with any kind of reality whatsoever.

Military training, secret labs, time travellers... what sense could they make in the end?

If the story was real and actually happened, it was lost in the reminiscences of a wounded soldier with memory problems. And how would they know what to do?

***

- I don’t understand. If the soldiers never came back and everything that happened was not even a mass delusion, how will the scientists know whether the plan worked or not?

- The explanation is very simple. If we change the past, there won’t be the same future that led us back to it... For all practical purposes, in fact, they never existed anyway... They could not go back to a future that will no longer exist... at least not the way they saw or lived in!

- And as scary as it may seem, we will never know if the plan worked, because we will never get to that future... It's a dead end!

- Oh my God! This is madness!

The young man took his glasses off and ran his hands over his face, looking completely confused.

A man approached and asked if they had matches to light his cigarette. They said they didn’t and the stranger thanked and kept walking without looking back. He ran his fingers through his hair and straightened his coat collar…

…It was not quick enough however to hide the small tattoo he had on the back of his neck depicting a barcode...

Código de Barras (Final)

Um vento agradavelmente refrescante soprou forte contra os dois rapazes, assim que a porta de saída do aeroporto abriu-se e eles viram-se do lado de fora, onde os táxis enfileiravam-se e partiam com os passageiros e suas bagagens, num ritmo frenético e praticamente constante.

Um homem de cabelos escuros e fartos e estatura normal, aparentando cerca de pouco mais de trinta anos, aproximou-se e perguntou para onde eles iam, mas os rapazes estavam apenas preocupados em procurar por uma cabeça conhecida, entre as tantas que por ali estavam. O homem insistiu, mas os dois disseram que esperavam por alguém, dando-lhe menos importância que ele queria.

A porta de saída do prédio do aeroporto abria-se e fechava-se a cada poucos segundos, mas eles não viam quem esperavam a sair por ela.

- Vou voltar lá dentro. Pode ter acontecido algo...

- Vais nada! Achas que, no meio desta confusão, vais encontrar alguém? Vamos é embora daqui, antes que seja tarde. Chega desta história e desta gente estranha.

O homem, que não havia saído de perto, voltou a insistir com eles, oferecendo-lhes um serviço de transporte, mais barato que o dos táxis. Eles tentaram descartá-lo, mas ele era mesmo insistente. Os rapazes perceberam que se fossem tomar um táxi normal, teriam que esperar numa longa fila, que parecia aumentar conforme os minutos passavam e os carros já começavam a escassear, por isso decidiram ir com o tal motorista.

- OK. Ok. Onde está o carro?

- Logo ali, senhor, no estacionamento. Não posso parar aqui, se não estiver cadastrado nesta ‘máfia’ de táxis do aeroporto.

Ele fez uma cara de descontentamento com o sistema existente e seguiu em frente, com os dois a seguirem-no, até onde o carro deveria estar.

O rapaz de óculos ainda deu uma última olhada para trás, para certificar-se que não via a moça, mas, em meio ao tumultuoso vai-e-vem de pessoas na calçada, seria impossível distinguir a cabeça dela, entre tantas outras. O outro puxou-o pelo braço.

- Vamos! Esquece isso. É hora de voltar à base e à nossa vida normal. Parece que nem nas férias conseguimos ficar longe destas enrascadas!

Balançando a cabeça desconsoladamente, o rapaz cruzou a rua e entrou no parque de estacionamento, onde o motorista já esperava junto ao carro, uma ‘van’ preta, de aspeto comum, mas a brilhar muito, de tão bem encerada que estava. Alguém havia caprichado na aparência, ao contrário do que eles esperavam. Os vidros tinham película escura, que era o padrão de uso nos carros de transporte da segunda maior cidade do país.

O homem vestia-se como um motorista particular, com um fato preto e camisa branca. A gravata era em padrões de riscas de giz, inclinadas em ângulo à direita e muito fininhas, com diferentes tons de azul, variando entre o celeste e o cobalto, sobre um fundo azul-marinho.

Ele abriu o bagageiro e tomou as mochilas dos dois, acomodando-as com cuidado. Os dois entraram pelas portas traseiras, afivelaram os cintos de segurança e disseram para onde iam. O homem girou a chave na ignição e as travas das portas foram automaticamente acionadas. Ele contornou, passou pela cancela, que levantou automaticamente e seguiu para fora do parque.

Ao virar à direita, na rua paralela à avenida principal, diminuiu a marcha e encostou junto à calçada. A porta de passageiros, ao lado dele, na frente, foi aberta e uma moça, com os cabelos arranjados em uma longa trança negra, entrou e sentou-se. Ela afivelou o cinto e disse, sem olhar para trás:

- Vamos… depressa!

Os dois passageiros praticamente perderam a fala. O motorista acelerou e foi só então que eles perceberam que, por baixo dos fartos cabelos escuros, na parte de trás da cabeça, surgia a ponta de uma tatuagem que eles conheciam bem e que causou-lhes, não somente espanto, mas também um certo receio.

***

O carro, parado numa região quase deserta de um grande parque de ‘containers’, passava incógnito naquele local apropriado para um encontro quase insuspeito. O homem, que passara-se por motorista, estava parado em frente ao carro, a falar com a moça. Os dois rapazes estavam trancados dentro do carro, sem poder sair ou ouvir a conversa, mas conseguiam perceber que havia um conflito qualquer entre eles.

Um outro carro, também preto, aproximou-se e parou à frente ao primeiro. Dele saltou um homem grandalhão, com a cabeça rapada, vestido com uma ‘t-shirt’ preta bem justa, a evidenciar-lhe os músculos dos braços e torso. Era o personagem que faltava e que eles já haviam visto antes, em várias outras ocasiões.

O homem trocou umas poucas palavras com os colegas e veio na direção do outro carro, onde os dois rapazes estavam presos.

- Quem são vocês, afinal? Alguma seita maluca ou um grupo terrorista? O que vocês querem de nós?

O rapaz de óculos estava impaciente e irritado. Aquela história parecia estar indo longe demais e, até aquele momento, completamente incompreensível. Seu amigo, ainda quieto, começava a temer pelas vidas dos dois, mas não comentou nada. Esperou que o homem de cabeça rapada, que parecia ser o líder deles, falasse.

- Não. Não somos de nenhuma seita maluca. Assim como vocês, nós somos soldados treinados.

- Soldados? Como assim? Soldados treinados para a batalha? Alguma guerra?

A moça respondeu.

- Não exatamente. Antes, mais pelo contrário… para impedir uma...

- Que guerra?

- Uma guerra estúpida e silenciosa: a autodestruição da humanidade…

- Só faltava essa. Isso é de loucos! E por que estamos envolvidos nisso, afinal?

- Não era suposto que a nossa presença fosse percebida. Julgávamos que estávamos sendo o mais insuspeitos possível, até que vocês começaram a seguir-nos. A interferência de vocês poderia colocar em risco o sucesso do que viemos fazer… e isso poderia ter consequências bastante graves no futuro.

- No futuro? Essa conversa está cada vez mais sem sentido. Vocês não podem ser levados a sério. Isto é uma insanidade.

O rapaz de óculos julgava que estava diante de um grupo de fanáticos, nos quais foi executada uma estranha lavagem cerebral, tornando-os terroristas perigosos e destemidos, com propósitos homicidas e, provavelmente, também, suicidas.

- E foram enviados por quem, pelo amor de Deus?

- A pergunta correta não é: ‘por quem?’ Mais adequadamente, deveria ser: ‘de onde?’… ou, talvez, melhor ainda: ‘de quando?’.

Os dois rapazes se entreolharam. 

- Nós viemos do futuro. Nossa missão é impedir o crescimento descontrolado da população, antes que seja tarde demais.

O soldado tentou manter a calma, já sabendo que aquelas pessoas estavam completamente dementes e, para piorar as coisas, acreditavam naquilo que diziam. Ele, todavia, tinha que fazer uma pergunta, que no momento pareceu-lhe crucial.

- E como vão fazer isso?

- Usando um método contraceptivo mais eficaz e mais definitivo. Na verdade, o objetivo é esterilizar mais de sessenta por cento da humanidade.

- Mas isso é uma loucura! Como poder ser humanamente possível?

- Esta é, apenas, uma medida preventiva, como tantas outras que já aconteceram na vossa e na nossa história. As pessoas não perceberão que o objetivo é muito mais profundo. A esterilização é só uma parte do plano e é para um bem maior.

- Castrar mais da metade da população é um bem maior? Vocês não sentem um peso na consciência?

- Na verdade, não! Nós, no futuro, somos desprovidos de uma série de fraquezas que esta época possui. São consideradas comportamentos de risco. Esta medida é necessária, para o avanço da ciência. Ninguém perceberá nada, porque o efeito não será evidente. Até que os cientistas deem-se conta de que a humanidade foi, de certa forma, envenenada, demorará um certo tempo. Quando os responsáveis perceberem, será quase tarde demais. A terra estará com uma população envelhecida, estéril e com o crescimento demográfico em acelerada decadência. A ciência terá que apressar as ações de controlo e de refrear o inevitável declínio da raça. A clonagem será a única saída… e o mal necessário… Já nos encarregamos de plantar uma ténue semente na cabeça dos pesquisadores de um certo laboratório, aplicando dinheiro e investindo na biotecnologia. Precisamos que seja levado mais a sério e em menor prazo, para ajudar-nos a ajudar o futuro…

- Nós mesmos fomos produzidos em uma série controlada, do melhor material genético possível, cientificamente manipulado, para sermos livres de falhas, de vulnerabilidades físicas e de dúvidas, por este mesmo laboratório. Somos marcados com códigos de barras, não temos nomes e, no nosso caso, temos uma missão a cumprir e tempo de vida pré-determinado. Nenhum de nós existe há mais de um ano, a não ser…

A moça olhou para o ‘motorista’ que, até então, mantinha-se calado, mas não pode concluir a frase, diante do olhar fulminante que recebeu do homem de cabeça rapada.

Um dos jovens soldados não percebeu a sutileza do que se passou naquele momento. Apesar de ainda em dúvida, ele tinha que explorar todas as possibilidades de compreender aquela história. Será que aqueles seres eram, mesmo, soldados enviados do futuro? O discurso era, de certa forma, bastante credível, embora extremamente fantástico.

- E o resto do planeta vai continuar intocado? O que vai acontecer, no futuro, com os animais, as plantas, o mar, essa beleza toda?

- Já não existirá nada disso, se deixarmos as coisas como estão. O descontrolo no crescimento demográfico resultará em um gravíssimo problema, com efeitos exponenciais e uma grande falta de sustentabilidade, o que levará à uma consequente crise mundial. A fome vai criar o caos e o desespero. Consequentemente, a destruição também será exponencial. Mesmo o dinheiro e as riquezas não terão valor, já que não haverá o que comprar e a produção será deficiente para suprir todas as necessidades. É por isso que fomos enviados, para tomar uma ação urgente, antes que fosse tarde demais. Aliás, já é bastante tarde e o próprio laboratório está em grande perigo…

- O processo, agora, porém, já foi iniciado. Já não há tempo para desfazer. É impossível voltar atrás…

- Como assim? Já começou? De que forma?

- Em vários pontos do mundo, os nossos soldados já seguiram as ordens recebidas, à risca, despoletando um processo calculadamente eficiente e efetivo. Os efeitos disto serão percebidos tarde demais. Não haverá como reverter o que foi desencadeado nestes últimos dias. Nossa missão aqui está concluída. Agora só temos que voltar para o tempo de onde viemos.

- Então por que nos trouxeram para cá?

- Para impedir que interferissem ou espalhassem o pânico. Quando vocês começaram a seguir-nos, ficamos com receio que pusessem a operação a perder. Ao nos separamos, criamos uma necessária distração e garantimos que o plano seguisse, sem que houvesse qualquer intromissão. 

- Mas nós podemos boicotar esse vosso plano. Isso ainda pode dar muito errado…

- Vocês acham que têm alguma hipótese? Vocês nem saberão por onde começar. Não conhecem o procedimento, nem o que foi iniciado. Se quiserem nos denunciar, como se isso fosse possível, que provas teriam para apresentar? Serão tomados por loucos ou drogados. Tudo parecerá um sonho distante ou um delírio esquizofrénico qualquer… Além do mais, já não estaremos por cá...

O homem de cabeça rapada olhou para o outro, que se havia passado por motorista e calou-se.

O rapaz de óculos logo percebeu que havia uma mensagem subliminar naquela parada, mas não perguntou nada. O que poderia, aquele homem, aparentemente inofensivo, ter, que importunava os outros?

***

- Temos que voltar. Resta-nos muito pouco tempo, agora.

Um telefone tocou. O homem atendeu, com o cenho franzido.

- Mas isso não estava nos planos!

Ouviu-se uma voz bastante alterada, do outro lado da linha. O homem calou-se, ouviu e, finalmente, cedeu.

- OK. Assim será!

Ao desligar, ele caminhou, em silêncio, até o carro parado. De lá, voltou, dentro de poucos segundos, com uma arma automática na mão. Os soldados perceberam que o cano tinha um silenciador…

Antes que alguém sequer expressasse qualquer reação, ele apontou a arma e disparou, sem pestanejar, para surpresa de todos.

A moça caiu, com um buraco de bala na cabeça e um largo fio de sangue a escorrer, como um riacho espesso e rubro, sobre a relva.

O homem, então, virou-se e apontou para o motorista, pressionando o gatilho, mais uma vez.

O motorista, num gesto inesperado e desesperado, jogou-se contra ele e os dois começaram uma luta estranha, diante dos dois jovens soldados, que acorreram imediatamente, para ajudar a imobilizar o assassino, derrubando-o ao chão.

Na confusão, como sempre acontece quando se disputa a posse de uma arma carregada, ouviu-se o som de um tiro abafado. E, então, o grupo parou de lutar…

***

O homem que havia-se feito passar por motorista e que foi ferido segundos antes de começar a lutar, estava caído de costas, desacordado, com a cabeça ensanguentada, um pouco atrás dos dois rapazes. O homenzarrão de cabeça rapada, que teve a arma disparada contra seu próprio corpo, durante a luta, tinha uma mancha escura e húmida crescendo do meio de seu peito e tingindo o chão de vermelho, quase ao lado do corpo da moça assassinada. A arma ainda estava em sua mão e seu dedo, ainda no gatilho...

Os dois jovens soldados, levantaram-se e começaram a caminhar, ligeiros, na direção dos dois automóveis pretos. O motorista, porém, moveu-se, assim que eles passaram. Ele passou a mão na cabeça e gemeu, ao tocar a ferida que ainda sangrava. Os dois rapazes abaixaram-se e, sem pensar muito, carregaram-no junto deles, até o carro em que estiveram antes, ajeitando-o no banco de trás e saindo em alta velocidade. 

***

O mar estava calmo, como se todas as tempestades, de todos os tempos, houvessem passado de vez e como se as ondas e o movimento das águas fossem somente os acordes de uma suave cantiga de ninar, ou de um mantra repetitivo e tranquilizante.

Os três homens estavam de pé, lado a lado, cada qual com seus próprios pensamentos, a olhar o mar a movimentar-se e a ver umas poucas pessoas passarem, sem dar-se conta do que acontecia nos bastidores da vida, sem que tivessem qualquer noção e que poderia colocá-las em perigo. O rapaz de óculos quebrou o silêncio.

- Nós ainda não decidimos o que vamos fazer com a informação que nos foi dada…

- Não vamos fazer nada. Aquilo não pode ser levado a sério. Foi uma loucura… Nunca saberemos a verdade…

Os dois jovens soldados olharam para o outro homem, que manteve-se impávido, sem esboçar nenhuma reação ao comentário deles. Sua vida havia sido salva pelos dois e ele devia-lhes mais do que um simples obrigado. O homem deu um longo suspiro, como se quisesse absorver o iodado e salino ar do oceano, como se fosse por uma última vez. Ele fechou os olhos por uns instantes, depois falou, calmamente.

- Nós evitamos falar sobre este assunto por muito tempo…

- Talvez seja hora de falarmos, mesmo.

- Já não há muito o que falar. Não lembro de muita coisa antes do incidente… acidente… fosse lá o que fosse…

- Grande! Que bela história! E nunca vamos poder confirmar nada…

- Eu lembro de ter participado de um treinamento militar bastante árduo… de ter sido enviado antes deste grupo… da introdução do fármaco nos abastecimentos de água… depois é tudo um pouco confuso…

- O fármaco na água? Então foi assim que a esterilização foi executada? Que loucura…

- Era necessário. Foi para isso que fomos enviados. O laboratório estava sob pressão e a invasão era iminente… Engraçado que eu não lembro de nada, antes do treinamento… como se nunca houvesse acontecido…

- Ou como se tivesse sido apagado…por alguma razão…

O homem parou de falar e fechou, novamente, os olhos, apoiando-se no metal de proteção do passadiço, em frente à praia, com a cabeça baixa.

Os dois soldados não sabiam o que pensar, dizer, ou fazer… Aqueles fragmentos de memória contavam uma história absurdamente convincente e descabida, ao mesmo tempo, mas que não fazia conexão com qualquer tipo de realidade.

Treinamentos militares, laboratório secreto, viajantes do tempo… que sentido poderiam fazer?

Se a história era real e aconteceu mesmo, ficou perdida na lembrança de um soldado ferido e com problemas de memória. E como saber o que fazer?

***

- Eu não entendo. Se  os soldados nunca voltaram e se tudo o que aconteceu não foi mesmo um delírio em massa, como os cientistas irão saber se o plano funcionou?

- A explicação é, até, bem simples. Se nós mudarmos o passado, não existirá o mesmo futuro que nos enviou a ele… Para todos os efeitos, na verdade, eles nunca existiram… Eles não poderiam voltar para um futuro que já não existirá… pelo menos não da maneira que eles viram!

- E por mais assustador que possa parecer, nós nunca saberemos se o plano funcionou, porque nunca chegaremos a aquele futuro… É um beco sem saída!

- Oh, meu Deus! Que loucura!

O rapaz de óculos tirou-os e passou as mãos no rosto, parecendo completamente confuso.

Um homem aproximou-se e perguntou se eles tinham lume para acender o cigarro. Eles disseram que não e o estranho agradeceu e continuou a caminhar, sem olhar para trás. Ele passou os dedos pelos cabelos e ajeitou a gola do casaco. 

Só não foi a tempo suficiente de esconder uma pequena tatuagem na parte de trás do pescoço... um código de barras...

The Barcode (Part 2)

- How did they disappear like that?

- I don’t know. But it seems to me this is not a very good sign. Who are they, anyway?

- I don’t know either, but I'd love to find out...

- I don’t think we will meet them again. Unless…

A disturbing thought crossed the mind of the boy wearing glasses, interrupting the flow of words. The other young man soon realized what he meant and shook his head negatively.

- No... no... no... I can’t believe it. It cannot be…

He scratched his head, as if looking for a way to get rid of his bad thoughts.

- Or can it?

- We both know very well that everything is possible... every and anything!

- We won’t have time to find out anyway. We’ve got to go back to the Army tomorrow... Thankfully...

- Or not…

- What do you mean by “or not”?

***

- Be quiet and still and I'll let you go free. Promise you will not scream. I don’t want to hurt you... unless it is really necessary... and if it is, you know I will really hurt you.

She agreed. He loosened the hand and arm slowly, allowing her to be freed, but under his careful vigilance.

- Are you insane? You cannot expose yourself like that. Have you realized you’d be risking ourselves, running through the crowd like that? Do you know the danger in which we have been placed?

- Apparently the one who was too exposed was not me. Look at you. Why were those two guys following us? It did not seem to me it was merely by chance...

- They're just a pair of nosy young men. We can handle it, but not now. We have more important things to deal with. Our task is more vital now. Time is not standing still and we are running out of any left very fast.

- This is really essential or is it in fact a big mistake? Or perhaps it is just a whim, not wanting to accept the inevitable?

- Whim? Survival is a whim, now? And where does this doubt came from, like this, out of the blue?

She looked at the big man, seriously and firmly. Her face was grave and somewhat challenging. Deep in her eyes there were traces of a sad awareness. The right seemed no longer so right and the obvious was not so obvious anymore...

Her eyes seemed to defocus and her expression changed suddenly, from defiant to wistfully anguished.

- I still cannot say for sure. Something tells me that this sacrifice will not bring the expected result.

That evidence of a doubtful mind, her speech and her behaviour were not normal and neither showed a good sign to the man...

They were not actually trained or programmed to question the purpose of a task assigned to them. Either they would go ahead to full completion or they would jeopardize much more than the simple conclusion of a considered too important mission.

To ensure survival at any cost was definitely a great responsibility... and not just for the two of them... only perhaps it would never be seen as such... unfortunately...

That was the heroic and sad fate of the anonymous soldiers.

***

- Our flight is only late this afternoon. Let's put our things together and spend the afternoon at the Public Marketplace, one last time. From there we’ll go straight to the airport.

Although it was not his favourite place, the young man wearing glasses agreed with the friend’s plans. He was hoping to meet the girl with braided hair, but did not express his desire aloud. The other thought his lack of protest was unusual, but kept quiet. He wanted to enjoy the last few hours on the island before heading back to their normal hard lives. Maybe they would not come back so soon ... maybe they would not come back ever again...

- Let's 'check out' and leave so we can make good use of the time we have left here.

Shortly after, the two friends went out with rucksacks on their backs toward the Public Market. In the minds of the two there were different purposes, mixed with some authentic concerns.

***

- It's almost time to go back. We have to leave here and complete our task as soon as possible. The two most populous cities of the country are already prepared. We just need to 'pull the trigger', so to speak. Also we no longer need to come back here. We will be taken back from there... the two of us... apart from each other...

- I don’t want to go. I do not believe we will succeed in this crazy enterprise...

- And since when you have this option?

- And what if it does not work? What if…

The man interrupted irritated.

- If this... If that... too many IF’s! We’ll only know IF we finish what we've come here for... This is the only IF that really matters! Now, stop this nonsense and let's go!

***

- Don’t you turn around now. Pretend you are interested in something else right there in front of you.

- Okay, but tell me what's going on...

- Barcode is enough of a hint to you?

The boy wearing glasses stopped, as if frozen. His disappointment for not having seen the girl at the Public Marketplace disappeared immediately. For some strange reason he felt a shiver going up and down his spine.

- They are going to different doors. I think they will split. She is coming to this side, closer to this door. You can look now… but just turn around very carefully…

The boy wearing glasses pretended to be distracted and looked toward the door, where passengers began queuing in response to the call that had just been heard from the speakers of the small airport waiting room. The two friends rose and followed the line, showing little interest in almost everything except to the girl with very black hair, a dozen steps ahead of them.

Soon the door opened and the passengers moved ahead, crossing it after showing their documents and proceeding to the aircraft that had just been prepared to take off in minutes. The shaven-headed man drove a last stare at the girl, who walked through the door and proceeded forward, without looking back. The man was probably making sure that she would not give up.

The two young men crossed the sliding door soon after, with their eyes fixed on the girl wearing the hair arranged in a long dark braid, who could hardly hide an unusual and intriguing tattoo. They quickened their pace to get closer and observe where she would sit. Maybe they could get in touch somehow...

When they reached the small door of the large airplane, the slow agglomeration of passengers organising their hand luggage and looking for seats distracted them.

- Good afternoon. Welcome. Seats, please... that side, please.

The flight attendant directed the passengers through and separated them in two rows, in order to expedite the boarding. The two young men were then more concerned with allocating their own luggage above the seats. The boy wearing glasses hastened to leave the backpack in the overhead compartment and to seek, quickly, for a known figure more in the background, before taking his own seat.

- Excuse me. Excuse me, please…

The flight attendant went on with hurried steps in the direction of the rear of the aircraft. The hair tied neatly in a bun behind her head barely hid a small dark mark... a tattoo...

The boy wearing glasses was livid when he saw her approach the dark haired girl and give her a small package. The girl looked at her with an uncertain air and sat down, very serious. The other woman was positioned in the back row, where she could watch that specific female passenger very closely...

- Sir, please sit down and fasten the seat belt. We are ready to take off...

The young man sat down and whispered to his friend:

- There is something very wrong here.

Then he told his mate what he had just seen and they both agreed that they were witnessing a strange sequence of events. Halfway through the flight, when things looked more controlled, although still intrigued and when returning from the toilet, the boy wearing glasses felt someone walked past, bumping him the moment he bent over to ward off the seat seatbelt before sitting back down. He moved his body to the front and let a girl pass by.

- What's that falling out of your pocket?

The boy pulled a piece of folded paper from his pocket, which was not there before. He unfolded it and saw a small note written with a not very common lettering, almost too farfetched.

“Wait outside the airport, at the arrival gate, where the taxis are. I need help.”

At then end and right below the strange note, there was a small mark he soon recognized and which caused him a lot more of a usual concern. He handed the paper in to his friend and the two looked at each other without saying anything, recognizing a small bar code placed as a signature to that unusual message...