Estudo: Flamingo

Estudo em Azul e Ruivo

Três Árvores e Um Imenso Céu

Para bom entendedor...

Ginger Alert (Almost a Christmas Carol) - Part 2 of 2

Someone came through the door and I felt the cold air of the morning blowing in against my back. I had a shiver going up my spine. I wondered if it was because of the wind or by the man walking down the hall to my direction, gently smiling and holding an envelope in his hand. 

I thanked him and opened the small envelope with the “URGENT” stamp printed in red on the outside. He smiled and went back to his working place. 

There was only a business card as a message. 

‘How nice’, I mumbled. 

I turned the card around and read the message carefully handwritten on the back. 

“Lunch at 12:30h? Phone me.”

I smiled to myself. 

I still had no real plans set for lunch and that would be convenient. As far as I was concerned, my last full day in Dublin, as I had to leave early the next morning, would be probably and suitably thrilling. 

I picked up the phone and dialled the number underlined on the card.

***

When I walked into the restaurant, the place was almost full. There were just a few tables still unattended. I looked around and saw one hand waving at me. He smiled and stood up. I smiled back and walked on to him.

He was a handsome man. I realized it when I was coming closer to the man dressed in white shirt and dark blue jeans. Although almost informal, he was very elegant, tall and well-built. His navy blue eyes were fixed on my face and I suddenly felt blushing when mine met his. 

He politely shook my hand. His handshake was firm and strong. I took it as a good sign. A firm handshake, followed by a smile and a quick and direct eye contact is always a good sign.

We decided to have soup and a hot sandwich, instead of a heavy meal, so we would have time for a light conversation and maybe a walk, before leaving each other. He would go back to his work and I’d go back to my life. I wanted the afternoon to be well-spent and could not think of anything else to do but being there with him. 

I realized he was not only attractive and kind, but also a good talker and a wonderful listener. The conversation was easy. He talked about what he liked and I tried to follow his string of thoughts, doing the same. I like to keep some secrecy about my life, although I had no problem with sharing the things I like, so to get him to know me better.

When we got up, ready to leave the restaurant, he urged to pay the bill, under my protest, but he was incisive. I accepted the courtesy and waited. His telephone rang. He picked it up and went out. I followed him, keeping a fair distance so he could talk freely. After a couple of minutes he hung up and smiled at me.

- Come!

- Where to?

He walked through the multitude of people that crowded the streets, along Grafton Street again. At that time of the day, people were busy going shopping or getting off the restaurants, on their ways to their works or normal lives. It was Friday afternoon, so most of the people were leaving work early and going back to the busy side of Dublin for many reasons.

The sun hit his short hair when we crossed the street and I had the impression his head was on fire. I felt I was burning inside. The thought made me blush lightly. He seemed to notice it as he smiled. That grin could make my heart melt down. I wondered why those thoughts were flowing freely in my mind. He would never guess what I was thinking about anyway.

We walked into the Merrion Square park gate, side by side. He then said he took the afternoon off, so we could stay together for a time. It was my last weekend in Dublin and he wanted me to enjoy it. I was already enjoying it, but did not say anything. All I did was smile, to show how pleased I was, although I was secretly happier than he would ever imagine.

We sat at the bench by the lake, watching the ducks swimming by. He laid his hand softly on my leg, while pointing at the birds. My heart accelerated. 

- See how they seem to enjoy themselves. The weather today is really wonderful.

- It is really wonderful…

I was not really referring to the weather and I’m sure he understood me quite well. A group of seniors walked in with musical instruments in hands and started to play a Christmas carol. We smiled and hummed the words along. When they finished the first song, they started “One” by U2. He took my hand and asked me if I wanted to dance. I laughed at him. 

- No way! Not here and never in front of all these people! 

He just laughed loudly. 

- Do you think they would ever mind? 

- Well, maybe they would not, but I will certainly mind…

- OK, then. We won’t dance. But I know a place not far from here where we can spend some time. It gets quite chilly here in the middle of the afternoon, anyway. Come with me.

We walked past the Wilde House and went through the street behind it. Going down Cumberland Street S, we stopped by the Ginger Man’s door and I thought to myself that was a joke. The Universe likes playing with me, for sure. He did not mention anything, but I saw his lips curving in a very discreet smile, as if trying not to show that reaction to me.

We got in for a quick drink. The atmosphere was typical, as in most of the Irish pubs. I heard Adele playing on the background loudspeakers. He looked at me and opened his lovely grin again while humming the words along. 

“Everybody here is watching you

 Cause you feel like home,

 You’re like a dream come true”…*

The waiter, another young ginger man, greeted him with a smile and a handshake, as if knowing each other from a long date, directing us to sit at one of the small tables, away from the windows. It was pretty warm and comfortable inside. My eyes were happy and my G.A. was all in full alertness state.

He was going to start ordering, but looking at me, he decided to ask me first what I’d like to drink. I prudently chose tap beer. Traditional. He smiled and followed ordering the same for himself, as it was his initial intention.

“You move like a movie, you sound like a song”…*

- I like this place. The atmosphere here is always so lively great.

- I know. Everyone looks so at ease; so friendly.

- The Irish way… after some beers, everything is amusing and cheerful… especially on a Friday afternoon…

He laughed out loud. Incredible how I could feel so good with only a glimpse of that grin… and I was literally staring at him and feeling so comfortable with him. 

Less than a couple of hours later we left the pub and walked down to a traditional brick building right next door. He took a bunch of keys from his pocket and opened the front door, giving me way to follow in. 

As he entered the hall, he held my hand. I was totally caught in surprise. My heart almost blew up. 

Then he kissed me…

*** 

He slowly ran his fingers over my skin as if trying to memorise every line and detail. His touch was so soft I thought he had feathers in his hands. I closed my eyes and let myself go through the gates of the pleasure garden. 

He kissed my lips so gently, I thought he was afraid of breaking anything in me. He was a good kisser and a wonderful lover. His attention was so completely directed to me that I felt I was special. 

What a good feeling… knowing he was not in a hurry… I always thought lovemaking should be slow and caring, attentive and intense…

When he found out that by kissing behind my ears he would make my skin react with goose bumps, he giggled and repeated that a few times. I turned around and he took advantage of that too, lying on top of my body, rubbing his soft ginger fur on me, while kissing me from my neck to the bottom of my spine and then he stopped.

I waited.

He kissed the two dimples at my lower back and said:

- I love these back dimples… and your bum. It´s all so perfect. 

He spoke that so naturally I really believed him. I felt as if I was living a dream.

- Do you know how these are called?

- Dimples of Venus?

He laughed loudly and kissed my bum, once, twice, three times….

***

My ginger Apollo, perfect for me, in all the possible senses: his auburn fur, so soft at the touch of my fingers; his navy-blue eyes all set on my face; his sweet smile, so open and so handsomely attractive, baring me like his hands did just some minutes before; his distinctive citric-cedar perfume bringing up his manly scent, inebriating my senses and triggering my libido and my primal instincts. 

I was so happy for being there and, at the same time, so sad I had to leave him in a few minutes. 

A ray of light came though the opening in between the curtains and hit his bare torso. I could almost hear Adele’s lines repeating in my head like an earworm.

”Let me photograph you in this light

 In case it is the last time

 That we might be exactly like we were,

 Before we realized

 We were sad of getting old

 It made us restless”…*

Sadly, that meant it was morning already. That sweet dream was over. I had to get ready and leave.

I don’t like dramas, so I got up and went to the bathroom to shower. I still had to pack my things.

***

- You’ll be in my mind for a long time… Did you know that? 

He just looked me in the eyes. His face flustered at my innocent display of insanity, but he said nothing. He just held me tight and kissed me. That was a definitive good bye. 

- Save one dance for me, will you? You owe me that…

I smiled sadly and buried my head on his chest. 

“You move like a movie, you sound like a song”…*

I could smell the scent of wild cedar and orange from his skin and clothes. He held me close for a longer while and then released me. It was time for me to go. 

The display, on the large panel in front of my eyes, showed the embarking call and I heard the loudspeakers repeating the number of the flight and the gate.

I walked up the aisles and looked back. He was still there standing tall in the middle of the hall, smiling at me. I went through the security procedures and disappeared from his sight. My heart ached. 

***

His manly scent still remains in my brain when I close my eyes. His presence is still so vivid to me, every time I touch the empty pillow close to mine and I recall his touch on my skin, the taste of his kisses and the sensation of going crazy in his hands and body. 

The sun hits my face and I remind his warm body on and in mine, the light coming into the bedroom though the curtains and drawing lines on his perfect torso. I feel like crying, but I need to be strong and I try a smile.

As a ginger head crosses my path, the G.A. (Ginger Alert) reacts and I look back and around again, as if haunted by the sight of a charming and cute ghost that keeps on coming into my mind, insistently trying to keep me from forgetting - if that could ever be possible – those sweet magic hours…

The wind blows against my face and I turn my collar up and walk home. Tears roll down my face and I pretend they are from the cold wind. Adele’s voice keeps on singing in my mind… 

“Let me photograph you in this light 

 In case it is the last time

 That we might be exactly like we were 

 Before we realized”…*

* (Adele: "When We Were Young)

Ginger Alert (Almost a Christmas Carol) - Part 1 of 2

I was walking down the street, almost crossing O’Connell Bridge over the cold River Liffey. My intention was going shopping at Grafton’s many options, as we were about one week before Christmas. The streets were packed with people from all places, shopping like crazy. I was amazed by the number of redheads of all sizes, forms and ages, walking up and down the busy walkways and it felt like paradise to me. 

A young man in his early twenties looked distressed when I passed by him and was crossing the N1 at Nassau Street, right after Trinity. He stopped me and asked if I knew where he could take the bus to Dorset College. I excused myself saying I did not know. He asked another passer-by and then another one, but none of them knew. The young man was in despair and very agitated. I commented that the city was too full of tourists and it was natural that most of us would not know it. He burst out with a high pitched voice. 

- I’m not a tourist! 

I laughed at his obvious and sudden distress, but tried to keep it up and calmly responded. 

- But we are! And lots of these people are too. 

He was almost giving up, but fortunately, there was a dark haired man coming to our direction and he had the right information. The younger man felt relieved and stayed by the Bus Stop while I continued my way, laughing inside. At least he was respectful and did not swear at anyone. 

Tall and strong, the young man had a natural auburn beard covering his pale, freckled face and his rosy cheeks. His hair was a lighter shade of ginger, cut very shortly, except on top of his head. The overall look was very pleasant for a young man like that. 

I walked away, still laughing inside about what had just happened and went back on my way to Grafton Street. 

*** 

Later that afternoon, when I was coming back, holding shopping bags in both hands, my mind was absolutely distracted and my feet were sore. In spite of being soon after 5 pm only, the sensation was it was already late in the evening. If it were not for the many Christmas lights all around, the place would be as dark as the feathers of a crow. 

I crossed the bridge on my way back to the hotel I was staying in, not far away from the Garden of Remembrance. Right where the Spire was erected, I decided to turn to Henry Street, when I saw the small street market and the hats and scarves they were selling at reasonable prices. I always liked a good bargain and I decided I needed a new and trendier hat. 

I found a nice hat, plaided of dark green, grey and light brown, very discreet and which could be used with almost any piece of garment. Most important of all, it’d keep my head warm. I was happy. For what’s worth, I felt my purchase was a good one. 

I’m not used to receiving gifts, so I buy my own when I need something. Hat on head, bags in my both hands, I walked back, all happy and light. The streets were still busy and the wind was blowing fiercely from the riverside when I walked back through Henry Street. I bent my head and stepped firmly on the large brick walkway. 

I thought to myself: what a nice place to fall in love with… 

My thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a loud crashing noise and a very strange sensation. I heard a metallic clatter and that was followed by a dizziness and the feeling I could not get hold of my grasp and my balance. The message sent to my brain that I was falling down to the ground. I felt a pain on my right leg and saw the packages I was holding all scattered around on the brownish pavement. 

I was caught in surprise. I looked around and found out there was a bicycle on the ground with its wheels still turning. Looking at me with his big green eyes, a man, dressed in competition gear, was looking as startled as I was. He seemed to be not just scared by what had just happened: he was unquestionably worried. 

- Are you well? 

He smiled. He was probably not expecting I was concerned about him, when I was the one who was just hit hard by his bicycle. 

- Are you? 

- I think so. 

I looked at myself, then around. Some people were trying to help picking up the bags and packages scattered all over the place. I thanked those kind walkers-by and tried to get up, but my right leg failed to keep me standing up. 

He was just too quick to hold my arm. 

- Try to stand now. Don’t hit it hard. Just go light and slow. 

I did what he said. The pain was bearable. I had a scratched knee and my jeans were ripped. Very fashionable, I thought. I told him I was OK. He would take me to emergency, but I refused and thanked for his concern. I just wanted to go back to my hotel, have a good hot shower and a little rest. He was not completely happy, but agreed and helped me out. 

He lifted his bike from the pavement. It was ok: just a few scratches on the painting. 

He was OK: just a few scratches on his left leg. 

I was OK, in spite of some scuffs on my leg, a painful scratched knee and a ripped pair of jeans. 

He insisted to follow me up to the hotel, helping me out with the bags, just to be sure I was really OK. How nice on him... 

As soon as we got close to the reception desk, the clerk asked me if I needed help, as he saw me walking a bit limp and being helped by that stranger. He was quick to ask if there was a nurse or doctor at hand to check if my leg needed any assistance. 

Half an hour later, after a quick meeting with the doctor in the emergency room, I was assured it was nothing more serious than a few scratches and I was free to go back to my room with my wound all cleaned and covered with a layer of ointment. 

To my surprise he was still sitting by the reception, holding his helmet in his hands. He seemed to be patiently waiting for something. I could guess his mind was elsewhere, however. I watched him from a certain distance for a little while, then walked towards him. For the first time I noticed the colour of his hair, which I did not guess before from his well shaved and pale face. 

He raised his head and looked at me. For a strange reason I had a ginger alert: I felt butterflies in my stomach and I blushed immediately. 

- Are you OK? 

- Yes. It was really just a few scratches. Nothing serious… I promise. 

- I’m really sorry. 

- Don’t be. It was an accident. I should have been more careful… 

- Me too. 

I smiled. He grinned. 

- I’m Ryan. Nice to meet you… 

‘How typical,’ thought I. He couldn’t have a more common name in Ireland… 

*** 

When I went down to the hall the morning after, so to walk off and have my breakfast at a street Café instead of the hotel, I heard someone calling me by the name. I just stopped by the revolving door and turned around, in complete surprise. 

I was not expecting for anything like that. 

***

All Along the Coastline (Epilogue)

- Monarch?

 - But isn’t that a kind of a butterfly?

 - All this investment spent on a research based on studies of a butterfly?

 - Make no mistake. The research is very serious and the results are guaranteed...

- Says who? We have not started the production yet and we do not know if the results are guaranteed. Who can trust that, as a fact?

 - Well, I can!

 The board of directors was divided. On the one hand, the investors and management were confused and thought they bet the wrong horse. They felt that they had been deceived... and very!

On the other hand, the Managing Director was absolutely sure of the origins and outcome of the research and was sure he would be very rich. He knew better than the others, but he could not really reveal where such a cast-iron certainty came from.

He remembered the day he met the strange little man for the first time.

 ***

 Looking like a very unusual character of a cartoon, the little man was practically an albino; a strange mixture of an alien with any hominid, to say the least. He seemed to be coming out of a science fiction movie, with his pale skin and big head, inconsistent with the shrivelled body.

- I'll send the capsule through a rift in time, in what will be perceived as a week from now. Until then, we will not talk again. That will be the signal to start the negotiations. This operation must be kept confidential until we are sure we will not raise any unwanted suspicions.

- It's fair. If the capsule is not delivered, we have no business and life will go on normally and without any further problems.

 - I do not ask you to believe anything, without the necessary proof. Here is the key to opening the capsule. Without it, it is only a metallic sphere, found in the ocean. There's no other way to open it...

- Why is it going to be thrown into the ocean? You could deliver it elsewhere... anywhere...

- Because of its size. Furthermore the ocean will serve as a good shock absorber. On dry land, it would draw too much attention and could suffer damage when hitting the ground. The sample will be contained in a small and properly protected container.

- If the sample comes in a small container, why do you need a large capsule?

 The little man smiled. His face seemed unaccustomed to sympathy. His countenance was serious again, almost immediately.

- Because the sample will not be the only thing that will be sent inside the capsule.

***

The young men moved toward the exit, not looking back. Outside the Campus, a great confusion of loud siren sounds began to shriek through the streets and toward them. Inside the precincts, the fire was destroying everything that once had been the research laboratory. The two went the opposite way and entered the first subway station, without talking and without looking back.

As they passed the ticket control to the platforms, they saw that a carriage had just arrived and they entered it, without hesitation. They were in a hurry to get out of there as soon as possible.

On the surface, the chaos was snowballing, despite of being late at night. In addition to the firefighters, police officers and security teams from the Campus, an influx of curious also crowded the place.

In the underground, the subway cars were moving in controlled speed, going farther and farther from the region where the University was built.

The young man wearing glasses broke the silence after a while. He was still pale and nervous.

- What was that?

  - I still don’t know. But that was really scary.

- Indeed. I still feel that cold hand on my shoulder. I'm afraid of what I saw. Where did he come from? He looked like coming out of a sci-fi movie!

 The other man tried to smile, but he was too worried to play with what had just happened.

 - He must have probably left before the fire brigade and the policemen arrived. He must not have waited for anyone to disappear, or he would have to explain quite a lot. I don’t believe that any explanation would be easy to be given, anyway.

- And what will we do now? We will never find answers to our doubts and we won’t be able to confirm our theories. We lost the opportunity...

- Maybe not... I think we're going back to see our mystery man somehow... I still do not know how, but I think he might have answers.

- Oh no! Here we go, again!

***

The news came in large lettering, on the front page of the best-selling newspaper in the country: “N.M.E. being investigated, due to changes in food genetics”.

The article featured details of genetic alterations that led to chemical dependence, as in the so-called illegal drugs. The same was true about the industrialization of medicines at a later stage of the company's business, which was also suspected of addicting users. Their consumption had skyrocketed, leading to suspicions that there was something going on in the company, to have the results increased exponentially, in such a short time and without obvious marketing strategies.

The young man wearing glasses handed the newspaper out to his friend, after carefully reading all the published article.

- I knew there was something very wrong.

- But we could not prove anything, not even find any hint of evidence after the incident with the University laboratory. These people are dangerous and merciless.

 - After all this time, the only thing I remember was that those holidays were over too soon. Besides, we only wasted our time and money, in addition to the confusions in which we were involved in.

- Well... And we did not even meet that strange looking little man again... What if...?

The young man looked at his friend, after that incomplete question, knowing that apparently his head was working at high speed, as it always was, when he was planning something. More than a year had passed since the two returned from those holidays, which were totally spoiled by unusual and unwelcome circumstances.

Life in the barracks returned to normal, but the adventure left an unresolved and unfinished taste in the situation. Time had made it easier to let go of that feeling, but now those news brought some light back to everything again.

- What do you think if we got back there?

- Are you insane? That is no longer our business. I wonder if that ever was. Let the police take care of them. We cannot do anything anymore.

- I don’t know, no... They are criminals and the papers only mention the frauds related to the food and medicines, which we’d also come to suspect. They’ve never associated the company with the crime against the two boys who were killed, innocently, in our place... or to the laboratory explosion. I wonder why?

- Oh my God!

 ***

-  I do not want to be involved in a scandal of this magnitude. It was not for this that I sold you the formula. They will end up digging out quite a lot and coming up to find me. This will not end well.

- Why does that bother you? What I do with the result of the research and the modifications, which we have worked so hard to implement, is only on my account and, of course, on the company.

- I left my exile because I did not agree with the way things have gone so far. The intention was different from the beginning... and I told you this...

 - You should not have come back here. Our contract was closed a long time ago. I paid dearly for all this. And I'm only reaping the dividends...

- Dividends? Using the formula to manufacture drugs to slow aging and selling the product for millions of Euros, to only a few tycoons who are afraid to die, is not only to reap dividends, in my opinion. The humanity…

- Who cares about humanity? These poor beings do not even know why they are still on this planet... They do not deserve the ground they tread on! I will not change a millimetre of what I have achieved so far, because of your scruples. They did not exist when we signed the agreement and we closed the contract. Why are you so concerned, now? As far as I know, you destroyed an entire planet, with all the inhabitants still living there...

- All but one... two... to tell you the truth. But that was a desperate move. There was no hope for that planet...

- Neither for this one! What's done is done. It's my decision. And do not worry. They will never reach you. Not where you're going to...

- Is it? But I'm not going to tell you where I'm going to...

- I'll tell you! And you're not going to get out of my sight...

The man opened a drawer and took an automatic weapon from inside it, pointed it at the strange little man, and fired. The only projectile thrown by the muffler in the gun barrel hit the other man well in the middle of the forehead. A fatal shot, with little blood spilled.

The director called security and waited.

- Do what I told you to do. And have it cleaned up before anyone asks questions. I want the body of this humanoid embalmed and deposited inside that capsule, so that no one ever finds traces of what happened here. And have the damn capsule installed in the middle of that garden, where I can keep my eyes on it every single day...

The head of security nodded, called the men and did as he was told to, without questioning and without hesitation.

At that hour of the night there was hardly anyone in the company. They had all the time and freedom to do what was necessary without arousing further suspicions.

***

- Turn on the TV. They're showing something you're going to want to see.
- What's that?

The young man turned on the TV. The news showed a story about a certain major drug producer that previously produced only food. An investigation led to the discovery of a series of incidents, all associated with the director of N.M.E., including a crime against two boys in the north of the country.

The investigation pointed to the company's chief of security, who after many contradictions in the testimony he gave, eventually yielded and confessed to such a crime. The director was still under investigation and the police had just arrived at his office with a prison sentence against him.

High paid lawyers were working to get a habeas corpus, but they did not have time to stop the man being arrested and taken to the police station.

The TV camera showed the man being approached by the police while he was still in the company's inner park. It was evident that he kept his eyes on a strange object planted in the middle of the well-kept garden. A large metal sphere, all sealed, lay, like a monument or a trophy, in the centre of that garden, lined with concentric rows of asclepias planted in a harmonious geometric pattern.

The two young men were static. They knew that sphere very well.

- What the hell!

The report went on.

When the police car arrived at the police station, with the cameras all around, recording the event, the TV showed the man being dragged, apparently unconscious, towards the building. An ambulance was already waiting, with the paramedics ready to provide immediate care.

A reporter announced that the man had been killed on the spot. Another aired that he poisoned himself, en route, to avoid the consequences of the arrest, confirming what the first journalist suspected.

The image of the camera was fixed on the ambulance's white van. On the steering wheel, to the shock of the two young men watching, a very pale and strange-looking man took the car away from the police station and from the confusion that the reporters and curious people had just witnessed.

Pelo Litoral (Epílogo)

- Monarca? 

- Mas isso não é um tipo de borboleta? 

- Todo este investimento gasto em uma pesquisa baseada em estudos sobre uma borboleta? 

- Não se enganem. A pesquisa é muito séria e os resultados são garantidos… 

- Quem disse? Ainda não começamos a produção e não sabemos se os resultados são garantidos. Quem pode confiar nisso? 

- Eu posso! 

O Conselho estava dividido. De um lado, os investidores e os membros da direcção estavam confusos e achavam que apostaram no cavalo errado. Cada vez mais, sentiam que haviam sido enganados… e em grande! 

Do outro lado, o Director Geral estava certo das origens e do resultado da pesquisa e tinha certeza que ia ficar muito rico. Ele sabia mais que os outros, mas não podia realmente revelar de onde vinha uma certeza tão grande. 

Ele lembrou do dia em que encontrou o homenzinho estranho, pela primeira vez. 

*** 

A figura era muito pouco comum. Praticamente um albino, o homenzinho parecia uma estranha mistura de um alienígena com um hominídeo qualquer, para não dizer outra coisa. Parecia saído de um filme de ficção científica, com sua pele pálida e sua cabeça grande, desproporcional ao corpo mirrado. 

- Vou enviar a cápsula através de uma fenda no tempo, no que será percebido como daqui a uma semana. Até lá, não voltaremos a conversar. Aquele será o sinal, para iniciarmos as negociações. Esta operação deverá manter-se em sigilo, até que tenhamos segurança suficiente para não levantar suspeitas indesejadas. 

- É justo. Se a cápsula não for entregue, não temos negócio e a vida vai continuar normalmente e sem mais problemas que já temos. 

- Não lhe peço para acreditar em nada, sem as devidas provas. Aqui está a chave para abrir a cápsula. Sem ela, é apenas uma esfera metálica, encontrada no oceano. Não há outra forma de abri-la… 

- Por que vai ser jogada no oceano? Podia ser entregue em outro lugar… de outra forma… 

- Por causa da dimensão que tem. Além do mais, o oceano servirá como um bom amortecedor da queda. Em terra firme, iria chamar muita atenção e poderia sofrer danos ao cair. A amostra estará dentro de um pequeno recipiente, devidamente protegido. 

- Se a amostra vem em um recipiente pequeno, para que precisa de uma cápsula de grande dimensão? 

O homenzinho sorriu. Sua face parecia pouco acostumada com demonstrações de simpatia. Seu semblante ficou sério novamente, quase que de imediato. 

- Porque a amostra não será a única coisa que será enviada dentro da cápsula. 

*** 

Os dois rapazes seguiram na direcção da entrada, sem olhar para trás. Do lado de fora do Campus, começava uma grande confusão de sons de sirenes a berrar pelas ruas e vindo na direcção deles. Dentro do Campus, o incêndio aumentava as proporções, destruindo tudo o que havia sido o então laboratório de pesquisas. Os dois seguiram pelo caminho contrário e entraram na primeira estação do metro, sem conversar e sem olhar para trás. 

Ao passarem para a plataforma, viram que uma carruagem acabava de aportar e entraram nela, sem titubear. Tinham pressa de sair dali o quanto antes. 

Na superfície, o caos estava armado, apesar daquela hora da noite. Além dos bombeiros, policiais e equipas de segurança do Campus, um afluxo de curiosos também lotava o local. 

No subterrâneo, os vagões do metro avançavam em velocidade controlada, afastando-se cada vez mais da região onde estava instalada a Universidade. 

O rapaz de óculos quebrou o silêncio, depois de um tempo. Ainda estava pálido e nervoso. 

- O que foi aquilo? 

- Ainda não sei direito. Mas foi assustador. 

- Se foi. Ainda sinto aquela mão fria no meu ombro. Tenho receio do que vi. De onde será que ele veio? Parecia saído de um filme de ficção científica! 

O outro tentou esboçar um sorriso, mas estava muito preocupado, para brincar com o que acabara de acontecer. 

- Ele deve, provavelmente, ter saído de lá, antes que os bombeiros e a polícia chegassem. Não deve ter esperado por ninguém, para sumir dali, ou teria que dar muitas explicações. Não acredito que alguma explicação possa ser fácil de ser dada, de todo jeito. 

- E o que nós faremos agora? Nunca encontraremos respostas para nossas dúvidas e não poderemos confirmar nossas teorias. Perdemos a viagem… 

- Talvez não… acho que, de alguma forma, vamos ter que voltar a ver o nosso homem misterioso… Ainda não sei como, mas acho que ele pode ter respostas. 

- Oh, não! Lá vamos nós, outra vez! 

*** 

A notícia vinha em letras grandes, na primeira página do jornal mais vendido no país: N.M.E. sendo investigada, por alterações na genética dos alimentos. 

O artigo trazia detalhes de alterações genéticas, que conduziam à uma dependência química, como nas drogas ditas ilegais. O mesmo acontecia com a industrialização de medicamentos, numa fase mais avançada dos negócios da empresa, que também se suspeitava que viciavam os usuários. O consumo de ambos havia aumentado vertiginosamente, o que levou às suspeitas de que havia algo acontecendo na empresa, para ter os resultados aumentados exponencialmente, em tão pouco tempo e sem grandes estratégias evidentes de marketing. 

O rapaz de óculos estendeu o jornal ao amigo, depois de ler atentamente toda a matéria publicada. 

- Eu sabia que havia alguma coisa muito errada. 

- Só que não conseguimos provar nada, nem ao menos encontrar evidências, depois do incidente com o laboratório da Universidade. 

- Depois de passado este tempo todo, a única coisa que eu lembro de bom, foi que aquelas férias terminaram logo. De resto, só perdemos nosso tempo e dinheiro, além das confusões em que estivemos envolvidos. 

- Pois… E nem ao menos encontramos aquele homenzinho estranho outra vez… Será que…? 

O rapaz olhou o amigo, depois daquela pergunta malfeita, sabendo que, aparentemente, sua cabeça estava a trabalhar em alta velocidade, como sempre acontecia, quando estava a planear alguma coisa. Mais de um ano havia-se passado, desde que os dois voltaram daquelas férias, que foram totalmente estragadas pelas circunstâncias. 

A vida no quartel voltava ao normal, mas a aventura ficava com um gosto de situação não resolvida. Com o tempo foi mais fácil deixar aquela sensação de lado, mas, agora, aquela notícia trazia tudo de volta. 

- O que tu achas de voltarmos lá? 

- Estás louco? Aquilo já não é para nós. Deixa a polícia encarregar-se deles. Não há nada que possamos fazer. 

- Não sei, não… Eles são criminosos e na matéria do jornal só há menção às falcatruas relativas aos alimentos e medicamentos, o que nós chegamos a suspeitar também. Nunca associaram a empresa ao crime contra os dois rapazes, mortos, inocentemente, em nosso lugar… nem à explosão do laboratório. Por que será? 

- Ai, meu Deus! 

*** 

- Eu não quero estar envolvido num escândalo destas proporções. Não foi para isso que eu lhes vendi a fórmula. Eles vão acabar vasculhando muita coisa e chegar até mim. Isso não vai acabar bem. 

- Por que isso o incomoda? O que eu faço com o resultado da pesquisa e das modificações, que nós trabalhamos tanto para implementar, é somente da minha conta e, claro, da companhia. 

- Eu saí do meu exílio porque não estou de acordo com o rumo que as coisas tomaram. A intenção era outra, desde o começo…e eu lhe disse isso… 

- Não devias ter voltado para cá. Nosso contrato foi fechado há muito tempo. Eu paguei bastante caro por tudo isso. E estou somente colhendo os dividendos… 

- Dividendos? Aprimorar a fórmula dos medicamentos para retardar o envelhecimento e vender o produto por milhões de Euros, apenas para uns poucos magnatas, que têm medo de morrer, não é somente colher dividendos, na minha opinião. A humanidade… 

- Quem se importa com a humanidade? Estes pobres seres nem sabem por qual motivo ainda caminham neste planeta… Não merecem o chão que pisam! Eu não vou alterar um milímetro do que eu consegui até agora, por causa dos teus escrúpulos. Eles não existiam quando fizemos o acordo e fechamos o contrato. Por que esta recaída, agora? Que eu saiba, tu destruíste um planeta inteiro, com todos os habitantes ainda vivendo lá… 

- Todos menos um… dois… para falar a verdade. Mas isso foi uma medida desesperada. Não havia salvação para aquele planeta… 

- Nem tampouco para este! O que está feito, está feito. É minha decisão. E não te preocupes. Nunca chegarão a ti. Não para onde vais… 

- Como assim? Eu não vou dizer-te para onde vou… 

- Digo-te eu! E não vais para longe da minha vista… 

O homem abriu uma gaveta e tirou uma arma automática de dentro dela, apontou para o homenzinho estranho e atirou. O único projéctil lançado pelo silenciador instalado no cano da arma, atingiu o outro bem no meio da testa. Um tiro fatal, com pouco sangue derramado. 

O director ligou para a segurança e esperou. 

- Façam o que já lhes disse para fazer. E mandem limpar esta sujeira, antes que alguém faça perguntas. Eu quero o corpo deste humanóide embalsamado e depositado dentro daquela cápsula, de modo que nunca ninguém encontre vestígios do que aconteceu aqui. E mandem instalar a maldita cápsula no meio daquele jardim, para onde eu possa olhar todos os dias… 

O chefe da segurança assentiu, chamou os homens e tratou de fazer o que lhe fora mandado, sem perguntas e sem hesitar. 

Àquela hora da noite não havia quase ninguém na empresa. Eles tinham toda a liberdade para fazer o que era necessário, sem levantar suspeitas. 

*** 

- Liga a TV. Estão mostrando uma coisa que vais querer ver. 

- O que foi? 

O rapaz ligou a TV. O noticiário mostrava uma matéria sobre uma certa grande produtora de medicamentos, que anteriormente produzia somente alimentos. Uma investigação levou à descoberta de uma série de incidentes, todos associados ao director da N.M.E., incluindo a um crime contra dois rapazes, no norte do país. 

A investigação apontou para o chefe da segurança da empresa, que depois de muitas contradições nos depoimentos que prestou, acabou por ceder e confessar o tal crime. O diretor ainda estava sob investigação e a polícia acabava de chegar ao escritório com um mandato de prisão contra ele. 

Advogados muito bem pagos trabalhavam para conseguir um habeas corpus, mas não tiveram tempo de impedir que o homem fosse levado para a delegacia. 

A câmera da TV mostrava o homem sendo abordado pela polícia, quando estava ainda no parque interno da empresa. Era visível que ele mantinha os olhos num estranho objecto plantado no meio do jardim bem cuidado. Uma grande esfera de metal, toda lacrada, jazia, como um monumento ou um troféu, no centro daquele jardim, ladeada por fileiras concêntricas de serralhas e outros tipos de asclépias, muito bem plantadas, num desenho geométrico harmonioso. 

Os dois rapazes estavam estáticos. Conheciam muito bem aquela esfera. 

- Que diabos! 

A reportagem continuava. 

Quando o carro da polícia chegava à delegacia, com as câmeras todas atentas, à volta, a registar o acontecimento, a TV mostrava o homem sendo arrastado, aparentemente inconsciente, na direcção do prédio. Uma ambulância já estava à espera, com os paramédicos prontos a prestar atendimento imediato. 

Um repórter anunciou que o homem chegara morto ao local. Outro ventilou que ele se envenenou, a caminho, para evitar as consequências da prisão, confirmando as suspeitas do primeiro. 

A imagem estava fixa na carrinha branca da ambulância. No volante, para choque dos dois rapazes que assistiam, atentos, um homem muito pálido e de aparência estranha, levava o carro para longe da delegacia e da confusão a que os repórteres e curiosos acabavam de presenciar…

***