Chameleon by Otto Gramm (new reading .TXT) 📕

– I’d rather believe in programming and hypnosis then in some absurd and pointless show.

– As the product of your oppressor’s schizophrenic mind, I could easily do something like this.

– I know the scent of psychos. – Alex loudly sucked in the air with his nostrils.

Kyle paused, waiting for the answer but his companion was not intended to continue, making one puff after another.

– So how do they smell? – He asked gently.

The fugitive breathed out and made a sour grin.

– With skepticism, when someone claims he knows how to identify them. Your reaction was curiosity.

– That’s an interesting hypothesis. – Kyle’s lip corners curved down a bit.

– Even now, you’re not engaging in polemics. You show interest, examine. You’d rather fit for a psychiatrist, but not a crazy one. Those usually impose. Plus, I have an sense for people.

– And what does it tell you about me? – The man in black stepped closer, his arms folded on the chest.

Alex sighed. Clubs of blue smoke gaily swirled over his head.

– That you’re my white rabbit. And if I follow you, my life will change forever.

The corners of thin lips slid down again.

– Good answer.

Kyle let him finish his cigarette, watching with grin as he tried to make smoke rings.

– This cajoles you much better than sweets. – He noted when he saw his companion’s face lit up.

– My taste buds are off. – Alex extinguished the cigarette. – The berries were tasteless to me and the smoke had a shoe polish flavor. But it was great, thanks. – He threw him the lighter, which made a loop and boomeranged back into his hands.

– I don’t need it. Well, the way is clear, we can move on.

Alex tossed the cigarette butt into the bushes and followed his white rabbit.

The walk through the thickets lasted for about ten minutes, until the men ran into a rather high, almost sheer cliff. The fugitive stopped, as he saw that the road ended. However, Kyle did not even slow down his pace. He approached the rock, easily pushed off and after a moment stood on the ledge three meters from the ground.

– Keep up! – He commanded.

Alex came closer and looked upwards, his eyes full of doubt.

– Will you bring yourself here on your own or you need help? – His companion asked mockingly.

For the past three days, the fugitive has not slept at all and has not eaten anything except for that couple of mangosteen and now, at the whim of this crank, he must climb up a vertical cliff hell knows how high.

– Can’t we continue down on the ground? – Alex drawled.

Kyle sighed wearily.

– You need a hand then.

– I just asked. – He withdrew to avoid the risk of being tossed, this time much higher.

He found a solid rock and jumped up... His legs sprung with such a force, as if they concealed a hydraulic mechanism; his body was light like a butterfly. Alex had no time to realize a thing when he found himself standing on a cliff seven feet above the ground. Incredible! He lurched in surprise.

They continued their way up. Alex climbed higher and higher, easily leaping from one ledge to another. It seemed to him that the rock was running under his feet itself, like a treadmill. Kyle was ahead, showing the way. "Where did you come from, huh?" the fugitive asked once again.

Green crowns of trees passed quickly; bright blue sky dazzled Alex for a moment, but he did not slow down. Soon the men saw the top of the cliff and after a few leaps, they stood on a small rocky plateau beholding the surroundings. The scenery was amazing. Bright afternoon sun smoothly lowed to the west giving first dark emerald shades upon exhausted after a long hot day jungle. Thick green carpet of the virgin forest covered everything the eye could see from horizon to horizon, hiding its mysteries under the canopy. High above, stretched a blue dome of endless sky. The ex-prisoner couldn’t remember the last time he admired this expanse.

“Where did we come from?” he asked himself, awaken. His eyes, impeccably perfected on small details, did not immediately cover such a wide range. All his attempts to find something similar to a building were in vain. “Why didn’t I look around when I came out?”

– What a view! – Kyle exclaimed admiringly. – Oh! There’s the clearing where we came upon the military!

Alex gazed after his hand. Indeed, some distance away, there was a small hole in a green sheet of trees. It was not easy to see it at once. He counted four miles from there.

– Wait! We’ve just been there! I don’t understand!

Kyle seemed not to hear that and continued overlooking.

– And what about that glass citadel on the horizon? Does it look familiar to you? – He said after a pause, gesturing somewhere forward and shaded his eyes with the hand.

These words made Alex felt a lump of dry ice in his throat. He had not even glanced in that direction, but he understood what “citadel” his companion was talking about. In the distance, at the very junction of the forest and sky, a tiny oasis of glass and concrete glittered, comfortably settled in a huge lowland between two ridges of flat hills. As Alex could finally adjust his eyes to the long-sight, he distinguished the two-storeyed laboratory building with an attached wing of technical compartment. A transmission tower rose nearby. The only stronghold of civilization. “How they really isolated me!” Alex thought sadly. For the first time he beheld the outside of his prison though from a very far distance and involuntarily he asked himself a question: “How much time did I spend there?”

– Nine years. – Kyle clarified. – In that one nine years.

All emotions vanished from Alex’s face. The man took a slow look around as if he had sobered up for a moment and then slowly sat down on the edge of the plateau. A weighting silence lingered, which neither he nor Kyle dared to interrupt. The latter was perfectly aware of the next question that the fugitive took heart to utter.

– So...For how long have I been... locked up?

– 28 years. – Kyle made a short pause. – The new Millennium has already begun on Earth.

Alex said nothing. As he sat motionless on the cliff, he plucked sparse grass blades sticking out of the crevices, threw down tiny pebbles, ruffled tangled hair on his head. Finally, he said hoarsely over his shoulder:

– And what about you?

– My story is too long for you to tell.

– I’m in no hurry.

– You’re running out. You keep standing due my presence; I’m giving you strength. – Kyle sat down beside him.

Alex’s eyes focused on him for a moment and then returned to nowhere. Kyle was ready for a hard conversation but it would be easier if his companion blew off some steam. He decided to go on non-standard way. He silently handed the fugitive a pack of cigarettes, which he had recently picked from the commander’s pocket. Alex took a one. Kyle pulled out another for himself and handed him the package.

– No pockets. – He replied with the lighter in his left hand.

They both lit up.

– You were right. – Kyle commented with a slight smack. – It really tastes like shoe polish.

He hid the packing in the inner pocket of his tunic, which easily opened and immediately closed. Alex had time to notice that there were no buttons, no stickers and no hooks on it.

– Yeah. Horrible quality. – He hemmed, staring at his cigarette. – So you are a scrounger too!

– He already has obvious signs of sarcoma; therefore, with this petty theft I rendered him a favor. Maybe he will get better, although I doubt. How old is he do you think?

– Forty-seven, maybe eight.

– Fifty-two.

– Touché.

– Vietnam Vet.

– That’s clear. Weird that I’m not such a dry old stick, huh?

– Technically, they could give you some injection to maintain your body in its original form though... you still can’t cure cancer.

– Hmm! “You” again... However, you are aware of anesthesia!

– Meaning? – Kyle arched his eyebrow.

– I’m talking about Dr. Omer. You know what she gave me, but you’re ignorant of the other drugs.

– Not all.

– Did you bribe or send her?

– You are smart! Believe me, if you meet her somewhere in the Emirates, she won’t even know you. She now has a new life and even a new name.

– I guess she had forgotten the old one.

Kyle smiled, a little impressed. He found this talk more and more fascinating.

– Why would she want trouble?

– I ought to send her flowers. – Alex sighed deeply. – For how long have you been watching me? – He asked, as he breathed out a cloud of smoke.

– About five years. – Kyle nodded toward the citadel. – We were circling around like some jackals. Due to thousands of rules, we couldn’t just rush in. That’s why we secretly sent Elvira to lay the base for your escape.

– And I thought I’ve worked it out on my own. Oh well, your escape was a success and here I am. What is your offer?

The ice gave a crack.

– A life. Quiet and calm, like Elvira.

– In return for?

– Some information about yourself. – Kyle did a slight puff and extinguished a half-smoked cigarette.

– I think you know everything about me. Perhaps even more than I do.

– You mean you didn’t exist before the war?

– All data is lost. – Alex rapped out, making rings of his last portion of smoke.

– What do you remember?

– That I was born in a pit.

– A six-foot baby with teeth and a beard?

– What if I’m some sort of a titan, like Typhon, who was born of Gaia and Tartar? Maybe I finally broke out of the underworld, where Zeus sent me, banished. Or maybe I’m a sinful corpse, rejected by the hell itself? – Then he spoke without irony. – I thought a lot about it. Too much probably. When I was found and treated, nobody cared about who I were and where I came from. I had a tag with a name, I knew how to hold the weapon and how to follow orders. They said that this was a concussion, that in the war it happened, that everything would pass, that I would remember everything, but... – He smirked and threw the cigarette stub down. – In that turmoil no one wanted to find out anything... And what can you tell me?

– There was no Alexander Koldoum. At least before May 3, 1972. So you may consider this date as your birthday.

Alex raised his glassy eyes toward the citadel.

– Who was then?

– Nobody. We rummaged through all data we could find. We scanned every file. Among all the hundreds of thousands of soldiers sent to Vietnam, we didn’t find any that would fit your omens. Neither among the survivors, nor among the dead, nor among the missing ones. They could change your appearance, but our analysis did not reveal any plastic interference.

– Why the fuck is all that? – Alex jumped to his feet. – Why do they want me? Why do you want me? Why me?!

– It’s all because of your gift.

– What gift? – He cooled off a bit.

– Don’t you know it?

– My earing, my vision, my fucking super instincts? My strange vitality?

– Do you remember how you escaped from captivity?

Alex, calmed down, took his place at the edge of the cliff.

– Some pieces... torture, slant-eyed faces...

– How did you run away? – Kyle repeated slowly and distinctly.

Alex closed his eyes.

– I don’t know how to describe it... I didn’t even plan it... I just wanted to leave and... I ran. Just ran away and that’s it.

– You can’t recall it clearly, because your brain was... disconnected. You remember only what you felt. After your escape, that camp was found razed to