Galactic Energies Page 4

  “Of course, Mr. President. I don't mind a little bit of privacy myself. If you want to come see me later, we can get comfortable and relax a little,” he replies.

  He gets up and confidently saunters towards the door he came in from.

  “Maddalena, I'm not gay!”

  She lifts her eyebrows and takes a sip of champagne.

  I continue: “I wasn't trying to tell you I was gay. I actually wanted to ask you something else. Why did you think I would want to participate in an orgy?”

  Rather then answer, she gets up, comes and sits closer to me and traces one of her fingernails over the top of my ear.

  “I'm happy you're not gay, you know that?”

  “Maddalena!”

  “Alberto, the answer is simple: because you can. And now you can have what everyone else wants.”

  “Why did you do all of this for me?”

  “Because otherwise someone else would do it, and I don't want to be beat at this game. I worked hard to get to where I'm at. I made a lot of sacrifices. I suffered. But who makes the decisions on Channel 1? Who chooses who goes on the air and who doesn't, who gets the prime time slot and who goes on in the morning to an audience full of housewives? You know it better than I do. The answer is: you politicians! I want to stay where I am, I don't want to lose anything I've worked so hard for and I'm ready to do anything to solidify my alliance with you.”

  “Maddalena, my politics are different...”

  “You go on ahead with your politics during the day, but let me take care of your nights. We can do whatever you want, whenever, wherever and however you want.”

  “Thanks, but...”

  The butler silently appears at the door.

  “Madame, Ms. Fantini is here.”

  Another guest

  Boom! I think I skipped a couple heartbeats.

  Peeking out from just one step behind the butler, Jasmine Fantini looks at us, amused. She's wearing a white dress with a flowing skirt down to her knees. Her face is pure and angelic, as it always looks. I feel like her childish green eyes are looking right through me. It's the first time I've ever felt Jasmine's eyes on me.

  She comes towards us. Maddalena gets up to greet her, but I'm still sitting down, frozen. I realize how impolite this is as Jasmine hugs Maddalena. I suddenly get up.

  “President Ferrari, I presume,” she says with an ironic smile, before Maddalena can introduce us.

  The other girls' eyes are all on her. It's obvious that Jasmine is a mythical figure around here: the actress who works in the Olympia most of them dream of getting to one day.

  Jasmine and Maddalena sit down. Again I follow a few seconds behind. I wonder if Jasmine usually goes to these parties. And what kind of relationship does she have with Maddalena? Jasmine seems to be wondering the same things about me: “It's nice to see you haven't lost any time getting familiar with your surroundings, Mr. President,” she taunts.

  “Jasmine, Alberto kindly accepted my invitation to keep us company tonight as a way of thanking me for my interview back in September.”

  “Ah, yes, I remember. The interview that led to an electoral campaign based on the concepts of transparency and honesty, among other things,” Jasmine said.

  “Jasmine is a dear friend of mine, but she loves to get a rise out of people,” Maddalena says. “Don't worry Alberto, the girl barks, but she doesn't bite.”

  “Maddalena,” Jasmine explains, “helped me a lot when I was just starting out with my career, when nobody knew who I was. I love her like a sister. But I'm not crazy about her way of handling public relations.”

  “Jasmine, I just got here.” It's the first thing I ever say to Jasmine Fantini and I can't believe that it's an attempt to justify myself.

  “That's odd,” she responds. “I get the feeling that you're pretty comfortable here.”

  She looks around. Some girls are pretending to do something else and others are watching us attentively. Still others have picked up where they left off.

  “Jasmine, don't be so mean to the President. Look how embarrassed he is! Be nice, now, come here.”

  Maddalena presses against her and kisses her tenderly on the lips. Their kiss makes the blood boil in my veins.

  “I'm so annoyed by these politicians who, as soon as they get an ounce of power, think the world is at their feet,” she whispers into Jasmine's ear, knowing that I'm listening.

  And I'm still stunned by the kiss she just gave her. “Jasmine, look, I...”

  Maddalena, seeing how flustered I am, suddenly understands that her friend means something to me.

  “Jasmine, Alberto didn't know anything about my little treat. He just found out about it fifteen minutes ago. Right before you got here, he was actually telling me that he wasn't interested in spending time with my girls.”

  Jasmine's face relaxes. She leans back against the sofa, crossing her legs. She smiles, again amused.

  “A gay President of the Council? Did you already introduce him to Manuel?”

  Again!

  “Jasmine, I'm not gay and I perfectly understood what Maddalena was trying to offer me. Maddalena, thank you, I'm really tempted by your offer. You're not going to get any help from me, but you can rest easy knowing that nobody else is going to get any help to unfairly take away everything you've worked for. I believe that it's up to the people to decide and, even if there are experts on the subject, political discussions and decisions need to be made publicly accessible to all. Enough sneaking around and clientelism. I've already explained in every way possible that, during my presidency, the power will return to the hands of the people.”

  As I speak, Jasmine looks at me admiringly, and this gives me confidence. I continue explaining what I started to do since I got into the government and how I want to go forward. From the way everyone else is looking at me I realize that I've raised my voice. The dominatrixes have stopped, the waitress turned around. It's an audience I'm not used to, but Jasmine's eyes make the words fly out of my mouth.

  When I stop for a little pause, Maddalena applauds, satisfied. “Bravissimo, Mr. President. Now I understand why so many people voted for you.”

  My eyes are still on Jasmine, who lowers her gaze, maybe because she feels bad about the way she was trying to badger me.

  “I'm sure you can forgive Alberto, my dear Jasmine. Given that you were willing to spend sixteen hours on a plane without even knowing who my guest was, I'm sure you can find a way to be a little nicer to him.”

  Now an embarrassed smile appears on Jasmine's face. Obviously she didn't like what Maddalena just revealed. Then she looks at me. Her green eyes are so intense it takes my breath away. And she continues looking at me. For a long time. Too long.

  Rewind

  Maddalena's hand is raised, immobile. Jasmine is still looking at the spot where I was just a few seconds ago. The girls on the sofas don't move a muscle. The whip of one of the dominatrixes is frozen in an s-shape in the air. I look at the face of the waitress: her expression is a mixture of fear, dread and anticipation. In the back, the girl with the strap-on is frozen in the middle of a thrust.

  It's a joke. What else could this be?

  I approach the girl nearest to me. There's an expression of pleasure on her face. Her friend is kneeling down at her feet, her head between her legs.

  It's a little embarrassing, but I decide to move my fingers towards her. Rather than stopping on her skin, my hand goes through her. She isn't made from matter. I don't know what she is.

  I turn and look around me and then down below. My feet are not on the floor, I'm hovering a few centimeters above it. I look up at the ceiling and slowly fly towards it. I get close and reach my hand out to touch it. My fingers disappear inside the material hanging over me.

  As I look towards the windows, I start flying towards them. Not even the curtains are real. My hand and then my arm disappear through the wall. Then my head. I close my eyes, instinctively. When I open them up again, I'm flying a few hundred met
ers over the sea. Maddalena's villa is just a dot in the water.

  I look down and start to descend. I think of the waves further down and suddenly find myself above them. They're frozen, too.

  I go down even lower. I enter the water. I don't feel anything. I even put my head underwater. I continue breathing.

  I come back up to the surface. I stop breathing. I realize I don't need to breathe.

  It's a dream.

  “No, it's not a dream. It's a system error.”

  “Who's speaking?” I ask.

  “You can give me any form you want.”

  Jasmine Fantini appears in front of me.

  “Why is everything frozen?”

  “You could call it a system crash.”

  “And what exactly crashed?”

  “Your universe.”

  “Mine?”

  “Sure, we're inside of it now.”

  “But there are actually billions of other creatures besides me in this universe.”

  “No, it's just you living here. It's your projection. You're the one who created it and you're the one who controls it.”

  “No, I can't believe this. If it was true, how could so many things happen in ways that I don't want them to?”

  “You decided to insert a few difficulties and you defined which obstacles you wanted to overcome.”

  “Me? I'm the one who created the wars, the mafia, injustice, children who die from hunger?”

  “Yes, everything is a part of your being.”

  “And why did I do it?”

  “To grow. You created tests to overcome so that you'd come out of this life enriched and improved.”

  “What's beyond this life?”

  “You'll see once you're out.”

  “Who are you?”

  “I'm...you.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes. I'm sorry, I have to reset the level.”

  “Which level?”

  “Unfortunately I made some errors in, well, let's call it the programming, so this level needs to be reset.”

  “Which errors?”

  “Well...remember how you use power-ups in video games? 'God Mode' power-ups make you invincible, and 'Infinite Ammo' give you infinite ammunition. In this case, I accidentally set the level with something similar.”

  “Why?”

  “Programming a universe isn't a game. Sometimes errors happen. Even in superior dimensions there are beta versions of things, it's just the level of complexity that's different.”

  “But I don't understand, what power-ups are you talking about?”

  “You haven't noticed how, every time you face an obstacle, you come out stronger than you went in? The system is trying to maintain a balance based on your initial instructions, but in reality your power has grown too much in too little time. At this rate you would have become a sort of god upon earth and the experience you would gain from this level wouldn't have done you any good.”

  “The luck! The luck that seemed so incredibly excessive...”

  “Bravo! You started playing Doom 4 with Alessio, but it was no longer challenging. You were on the brink of bankruptcy when you got that call from Sabauda Bank. Then you used your patent to conquer half the world with your technology. The system tried to rebalance everything by putting the virus in the payment system, but you created Star Bank. Another attempt at re-equilibrium, with the laundering scandal, but things didn't work and publication of the recordings threw everything off track. Then the interview and the power-up that led to your electoral campaign, naturally won with stunning results. Even at Maddalena Alessi's house, despite the ambiguous reasons why you were there, you had the chance to turn the tables. You and Jasmine would have fallen in love. At this point a re-equilibrium of the system is impossible, so we need to reset the level and start again from the top.”

  “And when are you going to do that?”

  “It's not me who wants to do it, but you. I am you.”

  “How do you reset it?”

  “All you have to do is want to. This is your universe: when you express a desire that's really pure, reality bends to your wishes.”

  “Really?”

  “Sure, it's one of the things you discover while living. You've heard it called many different things: enlightenment, purity, true love.”

  “And if I decide to go on?”

  “You're the one who decided to stop everything. The deepest part of you realized that this flow of events wasn't going to be useful to you and so you pressed the pause key. If you want to go onwards, go right ahead.”

  The full moon is shining above us. The celestial light makes Jasmine look more beautiful than ever. We're suspended in the void. Under us the black sea is divided into half by the reflection of the heavenly body.

  You would have fallen in love. Wow! If I decide to go on, I can go back and everything would resume from where we were. I'd spend the rest of my life with the girl I've always wanted.

  I'm reasonably sure that I'm going to have a really great life with these power-ups.

  I look directly at her. She's younger, more beautiful and sensual than ever. Her eyes seem to be emitting a light as intense as the stars. But once again, she's unreachable.

  “Ok. Let's restart the level.”

  The Kingdom of Turlis

  1

  “Antelmo, sweetie, dinner is almost ready. Finish up what you're doing and come to the table! I don't want you playing with your cell phone when I put these hot dishes down!”

  Anna is standing over the stove. Her wide, white pants fall softly along her legs. She's wearing a tank top. It's a beautiful summer Saturday evening.

  For the umpteenth time, I'm furiously intent on scrutinizing the potential for road access with the navigation system.

  If I could only find a way to travel along that path, I'd save myself five miles on every trip.

  My wife Anna and I live in a nice little cottage in the foothills. Our home is separated from the house of our neighbor, Costantino Valenti, by a footpath. The short stretch is closed off by a little barrier about thirty centimeters high, beyond which there's a field. The green grass stretches out to the highway, just about a hundred and fifty yards from our houses.

  Because of the builder's laziness and problems with municipal regulations, no direct connection to the highway was made. Instead, we need to drive down a little street that loops around for miles, passing dozens of little houses just like our own, plunged into the green forest.

  Valenti is elderly. He doesn't leave his house and naturally isn't interested in getting downtown quickly. Anna and I, however, go to work, the movies, restaurants and to see friends. Every time, we have to wind through the hills on our way home.

  Neighbors can really be pains in the neck sometimes. Ours is, as a matter of fact.

  Enough. This has got to end!

  “Darling, I'm going to go check and see if I closed the garage. I think I might have left it open,” I tell Anna. I leave quickly, avoiding the incoming complaints.

  I take a plank from the toolshed and carry it out under my arm to the walkway. I place one end on top of the little divider and the other end on the ground.

  Finally! Let's see if he can stop me now!

  I hurry back to the garage, jump onto the seat of my Honda CR 250 and accelerate down the path. The plank has no problem supporting the weight of the motor and, in the blink of an eye, I cross the field and find myself on the highway.

  Wow! I got here without having to drive around seven hills!

  When I passed Valenti's house, I thought I saw someone pull back the window curtain. Am I just paranoid? I'm already dreaming about the neighbor at night!

  I don't think Anna is going to be very happy when she finds out about my little excursion. The newsstand is only fifty yards away. I decide to go and buy her the latest issue of Glamour. My kind gesture should mitigate her impending irritation.

  I'm thrilled by the idea of going to and from the newsstand without having to drive po
intlessly for miles.

  A police car is coming towards me down the other lane. No way! Maybe they have something else to do, maybe they'll leave me alone.

  Not quite! They turn their lights on and stop in the middle of the road, their turn signals blinking. They get ready to do a U-turn and catch up with me. And I'm on a souped-up Honda without a helmet.

  Okay, let's pretend that I didn't notice them. I'll just keep going and, once I get to the first side street, I'll turn right. Then I'll reach the forest where I can lose them. I really don't want to get a fine for this little excursion. At any rate, they couldn't have caught my license number, not with all the mud from this morning that's still covering up the plate!

  In any case, I decide to not accelerate too much. If they do manage to stop me, I'll at least avoid a fine for speeding.

  I've almost reached the end of the perimeter wall around the first cottage. Beyond that it's just forest.

  Sirens! Crap! I'm only driving without a helmet! I'm not some kind of criminal!

  Game over. I decide to stop. A forty or fifty Euro fine isn't going to ruin me.

  The police's Fiat Punto approaches, sirens screaming and lights on.

  Something's not right. The cop on the passenger side takes out his gun. It's the first time in my life that I've ever seen a cop take a weapon out of his holster.

  The car comes closer. The cop's gun is pointed towards the sky. Then, slowly, he lowers it towards me.

  I don't hang around to watch. I hit the gas and escape into the woods.

  2

  As I drive in between the trees, I realize that my body is racked by shivers. I'm scared and worried.

  I had my head uncovered! I'm terrorized, thinking that the cops might have recognized me. But they didn't get close enough! And besides, I haven't gotten a fine in ten years, and the city is full of Hondas like mine. I stop to check the plate. It's covered with enough mud, they couldn't have read the letters.

  Anna! Dinner!

  I stop getting lost in pointless thoughts and concentrate on where I'm going. I know these woods like the back of my hand. I can avoid the highway and other busy roads. I only cross through the woods and fields. I drive very stealthily.