The Abacus Equation

  Chapter 26

  Carefully not to wake Jane, Pieter slipped out of the king size bed and switched on the TV set in the living room of his suite.

  Jane had paid the price for telling her fiancée as clearly as possible that he was not the one she wanted to get old with. The mannered and controlled Brian, prototype of the ideal son-in-law, had burst into anger and hit her hard in the face. She had ran to her parent's room. Her father's prevailing sentiment was how he could return the guy the favour. Nobody hit his daughter without penalty.

  After a discussion between mother and daughter, Mrs. Hutton had gone back to bed and Jane had promised to spend the night with Jackie. On impulse, she was not going to get any sleep anyway; she had gone to the bar in the hope to sort out her thoughts and feelings. Not that she wanted to get drunk, but a firm shot would certainly assist in the arrangement process.

  When she saw Pieter she knew it. He was the one.

  The CNN news contained all elements of a roller-coaster broken loose. There was so much information on the screen that it took Pieter a while to find his way through the graphs, comments and live pictures. But the purport was obvious. The international relations between superpowers and mini-powers became tenser by the minute. Countries were calling back their diplomats and diplomats were asked to leave countries. There were images of troop concentrations that had been deployed over the past twenty four hours. In some cities there were already riots between the Indian and Chinese populations. In Brussels different manifestations had clinched which had escalated in setting fire to the building of the European Community. The police and army forces had been joining efforts to bring the city back to rest. In most European cities people had come on the streets and where the law enforcement had to be deployed a curfew was established to prevent even further calamities. Till now the situation in the United States had been under control, but in the Middle East and specifically in cities such as Abu Dhabi and Dubai the riots with the Indian population had peaked with on the background a, almost symbolic, burning Burq-El-Arab.

  Jane rubbed her fingers through his bristly hair. She had pulled on one of his shirts and kneeled over him on the wide couch. “Wouldn't you rather look at me, honey? It's always the same bad news on the TV.” She pushed her head against his so that her dark blond curls obstructed his view. He pushed her hair aside and peeked at the television set. More images of Asia where the military of Bhutan, Myanmar, Thailand and Vietnam had united forces against the stranglehold of India and China. There already had been several clashes at the borders. There was footage of American tourists, clearly confused, being repatriated with old C130s from their hotels at the foot of the Himalaya.

  “Hey, are you already neglecting me? You are not a lot of fun.” She fought for the remote control. A fight she won and mercilessly she switched the set off. “I have something much nicer to look at,” she said provocatively while opening the middle buttons of her shirt.

  “Jane, there is something wrong here. The purpose was to avoid all of this. And now these documents are being used to start what we tried to avoid in the first place. Something is wrong with the picture. And there must be a connection between this Utopia project and what happened over the past days in Diego. There must be one. And the connection is called Ian. I know him for a long time and despite his blabla on natural growth and common sense, I just know that he hates coincidence. He is not the type of man who leaves things to chance.”

  Jane took his head in her hands and looked at him teasingly: “well than my overgrown Tintin should have another talk with Ian. And do it fast, come back right away and keep yourself busy with your new flame.”

  Quickly Pieter regained possession of the remote and switched on the TV set. With a big sigh she sat next to him. She folded her legs and let herself fall sideways against Pieter. She looked uninterested at the BBC news.

  “It seems like each and every small conflict is escalating at the same time,” Pieter remarked.

  “It will not come to that, it will blow away as always,” she yawned.

  Pieter's mobile phone buzzed. It was Iveta. “Hi Pieter, good morning. It is a quarter to eight and I just wanted to inform you that Ian is on his way to the restaurant. So it is OK if you are a bit early also.”

  He cursed inarticulately. He had lost his feeling with the time. “Of course, Iveta. No problem.”

  He jumped up, ran to the bathroom to put on some clothes and put his head under a stream of cold water to control his tangled hair.

  “Darling I am off. I had forgotten that I have a breakfast meeting with Ian. So good timing, I can ask him all about it.”

  He held her firmly around the waste. “I'll be back as soon as I can, honey.”

  “And what makes you so sure that I will still be here?”

  “Because you have no other place to go to?”

  “Don't you think you can get rid of me that easily. I think I will tuck myself into bed again. I am still tired.”

  She gave him a long kiss. “Don't be too long.”

  Pieter rushed into the breakfast room at eight o'clock sharp. He saw Ian sitting and made his way through the mostly empty room.

  “Good morning Ian, eight o'clock sharp. As agreed,” he said overcompensating.

  “Good morning,” Ian answered as he checked his watch. “You know, Pieter, a great trick to never be too late is to make your watch run five minutes fast.”

  “Already tried it. About five years ago someone tried to get me into that habit. The only result was that I started to count with each clock an additional five minutes so I was late everywhere.”

  “Mmmm, I will assume that that person was not me,” Ian mumbled. “Why don't you take some food from the buffet and we can continue our little conversation.”

  Pieter returned with a plate filled with fruit, smoked salmon and yoghurt. Ian nodded in appraisal. “A healthy breakfast, I am glad that you take good care of yourself. Especially now you will need it to be fit.”

  A silly grin appeared in Pieter's face, not knowing very well whether Ian was now alluding to Jane or it had been an innocent prelude to what he was going to tell him.

  Ian dapped with care the last remainders of fat from his mouth corners and pushed his plate aside, gulped down the rest of his black coffee and continued his train of thought from yesterday.

  “The world will not end with a bang but with a whisper. That is an old lore And the world is already sighing and moaning deeply. What we have witnessed the past days has been present latently all the time. It just needed a little push, a small spark, and you can expect a chain reaction. The world as we have known it so far has been dying beyond return. Not as many believe because of climate changes, not because of some sudden pandemic, not by some doomsayer predicting the collision with a comet or meteor. But simply because we are with too many human beings. Civilisation has exceeded its capability to sustain its own mankind. Put a couple of rats in a box and they happily live next to each other. Put a lot of rats in a box and they start to eat each other or they die from stress. The equation between the current structures and the world population is since long heading towards a severe imbalance. Both structures and world population have to be brought back to balance. That is why the superpowers have agreed, in full consciousness, to start and end a world war. The main goal is not to decimate the population an sich, but to clear political and religious views. There are more than enough hotbeds in this world. Many of these hotbeds are hundreds of years old; others are the result of more recent treaties like the First and Second World Wars. Others are new. Take the unrest between Spain and France over the water reserves in the Pyrenees while the alternative desalination projects did not make it because too expensive. Everything has become a productivity equation. In the end it has resulted in ceasing all innovation and the complete world-economy has come to a standstill and started to shrink. Do you know that today we are ten percent less prosperous compared to five years ago? And that curve is squared. It goes faster and fa
ster. Few people can see through this.”

  He paused but Pieter continued to quietly eat his smoked salmon with a lot of taste.

  “From time to time evolution needs a little push. To calculate simulations we needed the latest generation of super computers. The results that came back in order to achieve positive growth in our civilisation was the need to extinguish a number of well defined historical hotbeds. Secondly we needed to bring back the population with thirty percent. And thirdly it appeared that we needed to untie the economy from its pure capitalistic straitjacket.”

  “And who or how were these so called historical hotbeds defined? And who defines who is right, the Serbians or the Kosovars?”

  “It is not a matter of being right or wrong. Honestly, the disputes in the Balkan have their roots years before the First World War. No, I am talking about the large conflicts between North and South, East and West. Again, as I said yesterday, it is not the purpose to arrive at a new order. Others have tried that route. Each attempt to arrive at this so called new order has either failed or it was very temporary. People want change. That is how progress is achieved. But the world is not changing anymore. Everywhere the status-quo is sought as the ultimate solution. Part of this change is that from time to time the whole mess needs a reset. If your computer or watch are not functioning anymore, the first thing you do is reset or pull the plug and reboot. Than it works again.”

  “Most of the time. Sometimes it blocks completely.”

  “It can happen. But not very often.”

  “Or you lose all your files.”

  “That could even be a good thing. Start all over again. Rebuilding your facts, your files, documents. Rebuild your ideas and insights. All ballast is gone. Stuff you never looked at anyway. Like a summer clean.”

  “But there are things that you don't want to lose. Pictures or letters that are dear to you.”

  “Than I sincerely hope you made back-ups. Like this place. But we are deviating. I don't think my comparison was that correct. What I am trying to say is that the world has slowly but surely evolved into an explosive mixture that only needs a small spark to ignite. And for the first time we have the technology and the knowledge to control that ignition. The past years I have devoted my time to come to agreements with the main councillors and advisors of the world leaders. These people stand in the shadow, love it there, but in fact hold the real power. Together we have convinced the political figurines that such a controlled war is their best option to safeguard their positive place in the history books.”

  “And the so called Indian and Chinese plans of attack are the spark?”

  “You are almost correct, Pieter. Those plans have been artfully crafted to look real. Maybe, just maybe, they are actually real. Who knows? In times of war, deception and misleading communication are key elements.”

  Pieter had abruptly stopped eating.

  “So this was a whole charade with fake documents?”

  “That charade was needed. It served as a slowly burning fuse. The main purpose is to ensure that it all looks real and believable.”

  “So why did you not just let Votilio escape? Was it not believable enough without a man killed?” He overstressed the word believable.

  “Unfortunately this is where my theory proves to be correct. Indeed it was the plan that Votilio would bring everything out into the open. He was supposed to sail with one of the local boats to the place you flew to. But there were unforeseen circumstances. He decided not to bring it in the open but to sell it on the black market He got greedy. The patrol commander did what he had to do and tried to stop him, but Votilio decided to take his chances and tried to outrun them. He did not succeed and was killed. They lost sight of the small vessel till Oona's patrol discovered his body. And that is where you came into play. You were Jonathan's plan B. And it all fell together nicely.”

  “So for years I was plan B? Kind of a sleeper cell of a terrorist group? Nice to know. Anything else that you want to share with me to make me feel better that I started a world war?”

  “Remember the song of Springsteen? You can't start the fire without a spark. Even without you the whole action would have taken place. It would be called improvisation. It might have been with a couple of days delay, but not more. In that case the leak would have been taken over by the communication officer of Diego. Or by John Freeman. Plenty of alternatives. But with you we knew that you would go to the extreme to make this public. And of course there were also the two girls who were supposed to be picked up in Mombassa and not in the middle of the ocean.”

  “And what if I bring this whole scam to the outside? That this explosive situation has been triggered because of some fake information? I really don't feel like going into history as the spark of the end of the world.”

  “You can try. But I am afraid it is too late for that. You might have watched the news this morning. There are so many things happening at the same time right now that your revelation would be nothing more than a side note, if it gets picked up at all. And there are already a whole bunch of people shouting that it is one big conspiracy. This time they are right. However, I believe the definition of a conspiracy is a plan that didn't work out very well. And this plan will work out. And don't worry too much about history Pieter. Everything will point that the information and the sources were genuine and correct.”

  “I have acted like an idiot. If only I had waited a bit longer. I should have taken the time to check my sources.”

  Ian nodded: “yes, if, if. Avec des si on mettrait Paris en bouteille. But you would have found out that all cross-checks point into the same direction.”

  “Well now I feel a lot better,” Pieter replied, “so what is going on with this place?”

  “A safe harbour. A place to start rebuilding in case something goes wrong.”

  “Wrong? Is there anything worse than what is already going on outside?”

  “The deal is not to use biological, chemical or nuclear weapons. No weapons that would destroy the environment for a long time. The key word is control. Only deploy conventional weapons to bring down the infrastructure. But you never know. Although it is highly unlikely that someone comes up with the idea to initiate a chemical raid on a city or detonate a massive dirty bomb. Biological warfare is too risky for everyone since we cannot control these little buggers not to mutate in the wild. But in case something gets out of hand, than yes, this development project could well be the core of a new civilisation.”

  “You are not already moving all cultural treasures from their museums to this place, are you? Like the Mona Lisa?” Pieter said cynically.

  “No, honestly, these things are unimportant. The important thing is that those works of art have been made and that we have all the knowledge around the Mona Lisa stored safely for our children and siblings. Through the centuries many culturally nice and important works have gone lost. Whether we now see a digital reproduction or the original, not many people will lie awake from that. By the way, what makes you so sure that what you admire in the Louvre is really the original? Besides the fact that I don't even like the painting.”

  “Now I understand why you call everything Abacus. This becomes your back-up of the world.”

  “If you want to put it like that. But it is also a nice fait-diver that on this precise spot we have found an abundance of ancient artefacts indicating that this region already knew a civilisation and trade. Call it coincidence, but one of the first artefacts was a stone abacus. We have given it a special place at the entrance of the museum. So, yes, I thought it was a pretty neat name, don't you agree?”

  “Whatever,” Pieter answered, clearly with his thoughts somewhere else. He was desperately trying to find a way to undo all of this.

  Ian continued, not in the least disappointed. “So, now that you know all of this, I also wanted to talk about your future here at Abacus. It is certainly not the intention to sit here for days and weeks on your lazy bum in a posh hotel room.“

  “That
is not exactly my ambition neither. When can I get back to Europe? It doesn't matter whether it is to the UK or to Belgium.”

  “Not right away. Since yesterday Abacus has been closed off. Not hermetically, you can still try to reach the coast on foot through the Somali desert. But I would advise against that. In any case it will not take long before the civil aviation will be limited and that airports will only be used for military purposes. Next to that, airports will soon be closed because they will be amongst the first targets to bomb. No, your best option right now is to stay and integrate. Besides that, I need you.”

  “Haven't you used me enough? Or am I the only fool who is so easy to manipulate?”

  Ian laughed: “no, you are not the only fool. There is a whole bunch of them, trust me. Listen to my suggestion. The coming months we will be living isolated. It is important that the people will know and understand what is happening in the outside world. But also, maybe even more important, that they know what is happening in Abacus. Most of the people here have come to this place to take on one or another task. As long as they were doing this task under the impression of I am doing my thing and within a couple of weeks I am back, communication was not an issue. Now that they will be here for months, they will want to know what the others are doing, where we are going with the project, how they can make themselves socially useful, to be more effective in this mini civilization. The news from the outside world will be mostly bad news. The internal news will be positive and hopeful. And that should be over-communicated.”

  “So I can cover the births, marriages and the local poker games? How can I thank you. That's a dream come true.”

  Ian ignored the cynical tone.

  “For that you will have a small team. We brought a number of journalists on board from TV, Radio, on-line newspapers, blogs and wiki's. You call it. But I need a seasoned team leader with scar tissue to manage the group of younger men and women. Somebody who can provide insight en guidance around Abacus' daily life."

  Pieter stirred with his spoon in the cold coffee.

  “You can also teach contemporary literature at the high school. We still need someone,” added Ian with a wink. The wink was not picked up by Peter.

  “I can also leave and take my chances. It is hard to accept that I am the only person who does not want to stay here like a slave or a prisoner. There must be hundreds of them who want to leave for their families. Especially now with what is happening around us.”

  “Of course you can leave and nobody will stop you. Whether you will find a lot of fellow travellers that remains to be seen. You know, most of them came here by invitation. We did not only select them for their specific skills or knowledge, but also their personal backgrounds. You might have noticed we have quite some families. They already are with their families and know that this is currently the safest place on earth. And the singles are really single, no brothers or sisters. And they already have figured out that they have more chances of finding a partner within the project than outside it. So the alternative that you offer, driving with a jeep for weeks through a barren wasteland that is in a state of war ... mmmm...mmmmmm. Sounds not very attractive to me.”

  Ian was silent for some moments to give his next sentence more impact.

  “What are your plans with Jane? Take her with you? Or give her, you, a chance. Already suffering from fear of commitment? You are forty five my dear friend and if you want to deal with the loneliness in your life you better take action now.”

  “Is there anything that this guy does not know?” Pieter thought.

  As if he could read thoughts, Ian answered: “there is very little that stays hidden for me. You should know by now. And that has nothing to do with secret cameras or microphones. I just watched Jane in the lobby the other day. Probably you were the only idiot who did not see the look on her face when her fiancée kissed her. And this morning her father came already to see me with the question whether he could give Brian a beating. Man, pull open your eyes and let the light chase away the darkness over your brain cells.”

  “Are you than a new Sherlock?” Pieter reacted confused since he could not think of anything else.

  Ian sighed: “you have my proposal. Take my advice. For now. You can still decide later what you want to do.”

  “And is Jane's father allowed to give that Brian a beating?”

  “No, he is not. It does not help anyone.”

  “OK, I'll stay. If only because I will be able to teach him a lesson at the right time.”

  “Love and hate don't bring good council. Keep your cool. He is ten years younger and quite bigger and fitter. You are of no use in the hospital.”

  Iveta arrived at the breakfast room. She made her way between the in the meantime filled tables and seats. Upon noticing Iveta, Ian ended their discussion.

  “Today is going to be a fun day. You will get a guided tour. Now I have a short meeting with Iveta. She will accompany you on the tour. Also for her it is the first time she is here. Meet her in the lobby in an hour.”

  Pieter got up on his feet, still trying to interpret the information of the past talks.

  “I will be there.”

  Iveta added quickly: “why don't you take Jane with you, Pieter?” She looked at him with eyes that said trust me on this one.

  Pieter hurried back to his room and sneaked inside. The curtains were still closed.

  “Hi Jane, sweetie, wake up,” he whispered softly in her right ear.

  Unconsciously she wrapped herself in the light blanket, turned around and continued to sleep. In her dream she tried to balance herself on a rolling sailing boat. Brian had taken the helm and took a satanic pleasure in rolling the boat even more. Brian, who had taken her so lovingly in his arms. But than she saw the fist coming her way and she felt again the dumb hit. Slowly she started to realize that someone was rocking her gently. She opened her eyes.

  “Once again a good morning, you were really fast asleep.”

  She moaned and sat straight in the bed. “And who might you be, sir?”

  “Room service, ma'am. Your breakfast.”

  “That is a good start. I am hungry.”

  When Pieter left the breakfast he had quickly thrown fruit, orange juice, salmon, cheese, rolls and a small pot of coffee on a platter and had carried it out of the room before the eyes of the surprised waiter.

  “My mother used to bring me breakfast when I was ill. It's been years that someone has done this for me. From now on you must do this each day,” she said and put a bright red strawberry in her mouth.

  “You have to share the coffee with me. I brought two cups.”

  She pouted: “it is my coffee.”

  Playfully he pushed a croissant in her mouth. “Shut up and eat. We need to be in the lobby in an hour or so. Preferably dressed. And I still have plans with you.”

  “Oh, do you have now? I am curious. Not too many surprises, I think I have enough of them.”

  “Only pleasant ones, believe me.”

  * * *