the previous contemptible recommendation issued by our previous administration.
Therefore, we can go ahead with the next step, which is to issue a new recommendation. We have drafted one, which I am going to read you now."
After the deliberation that took place, following the hearing in the WCFET headquarters, concerning the so-called Teacher, we the committee of the WCFET found there is sufficient evidence to suggest that it would be appropriate for the accused to answer further inquiries, preceded under the UNO guided affiliated organizations. Therefore we recommend the SLIU to issue an international memorandum to the authorities concerned, for further action.
"Well," a member shouted, "it is short, and directly to the point, but in the meantime, this man is using the freedom, and tolerance of our people, to slander and accuse everyone, governments, religious organizations, professions, activists and their movements, the new age groups, you name it, and he has slandered it. Surely there must be a way to stop this agitator at least for the time being in this country?"
"I have to remind you my friend that WCFET is an internationally affiliated body, and we don't have any jurisdiction in any country in the world. All we can do is to recommend, and that is exactly what we are doing."
As the committee agreed unanimously, the new chairman sent the new recommendation to the appropriate international authorities.
As soon as the SLIU received the confirmation of the new recommendation of the WCFET, they started the ball rolling. They immediately issued a go ahead affirmation, authorizing Interpol to issue an international warrant arrest for the Teacher.
The SLIU, the UN affiliated watchdog, under the international terrorism, and crimes against humanities umbrella, managed to pass a bill called the IACA act i.e. international anachronistic conspirators act. This gave the international authorities, more room to maneuver; in fact it was a preventive act.
They noticed that the last few years, because of a lack of international legislative 'muscle', international agitators were roaming the social media network, inciting young vulnerable people to violence, and even to suicide bombings. One particulate country started to use drone planes to eliminate these people, but as there were many innocent bystanders killed, especially innocent children, there was a worldwide condemnation for it. The SLIU brought this bill up, and were eager to see how it would work. They thought the Teacher's case would be an ideal start, to test the waters, as his case considered by them a mild one, and the reactions would be minimal. Above all, they wanted to see if the charges would stick in the international court of justice in The Hague.
THE ROOKIE
After the event with his promotion and the death of that mysterious man in the network's park that night, Michael now senior representative, never looked back.
He was flying high, and it seemed he would soon make another big leap forward in the corporate scale of success. The management was very fond of him, and especially the senior adviser and the CEO were eager to see him on the board. As he was young, they thought they should give him time to mature. They did not want to burn him out by throwing him in too deep, too early.
The ex-rookie could feel all this happening around him, and felt good about it.
I am so lucky, he thought, to be recognized for my abilities in such a young age, and he thanked the God for that. He was not a religious person. He could hardly remember the last time he went to the church or prayed. He felt that behind all this wonderful life on Earth, in the animals, the flowers and the trees, the seas and the rivers, the stars, the moon and the sun, there must be some kind of power, and he would make sure to find out.
Thoughts like that would pop up sometimes whenever he was not busy with his work, which made him wonder if really this was what he wanted to do for the rest of his life.
So the time was rolling along with him pleasantly absorbed with his work. Then the management informed him that his vacation was due. When he secured the deal with the Teacher, they had combined this with his annual leave, so he had quite considerable time up his sleeves.
It came unexpectedly for him, for he had never thought where he was going to spend his vacations. One thing he knew was this time he wanted to spend the time by himself. Up to now, he had always spent his vacations with his friends, and they always had wonderful time, but this time he wanted to be alone. There was also something else. Since the ex-chairman of the WCFET Mr. Adam Clarke had mentioned Patmos to him in that bar while they conversed with the Teacher, it had stayed in the back of his mind like glue. He never thought about it, but it was never erased either. And now with a vacation coming up, he found himself thinking about it.
At night he could not sleep for thinking again and again about various places he could go, but he always returned to the same idea of Patmos. He sprang out of bed in a hurry, turned the light on, took a chair and put it next to the wardrobe. He stood on it, and managed to pull an old atlas from the top of the wardrobe. He laid it on the table.
He knew Patmos was a Greek island, but that was all he knew. He tried to find the island on the map, but all in vain. There were many Greek islands, but not Patmos, and finally in the small hours he fell asleep.
In the morning, as his vacation days started already to tick over, he got up wondering how to find out more about Patmos. Then he remembered that the barber in the corner shop was of Greek descent, so he ran to the shop, and asked him why he could not find Patmos on the map.
The barber smiled kindly and told him jokingly, "this island is so big; there is no room in the map for it."
The Michael was confused for a moment; had he missed something? Then the barber noticing how serious he was, and laughed.
"I am only joking. I am trying to tell you that the island is so small, that only good maps have it shown. It is not only Patmos; there are many more small islands that do not appear on the maps, because they are small. However, this must be your lucky day. I have a map here, and as you can see I am not busy, so I will show you."
He brought a map from the back room, opened it up, and showed Michael a small speck in the Mediterranean Sea.
"That is Patmos?"
"Yes."
"Are you sure about that?"
"Yes."
"Are there houses there?"
"Yes."
"Will I find food there? Are there restaurants in Patmos?"
"Yes."
"How about rooms, hotels?"
"Yes... are you going to Patmos?"
"Yes."
Did he say yes? He was going to Patmos? The more he thought about it, the more the idea crystallized in his head that he actually was going to Patmos. Finally he went back to the barber, and asked him if he knew a travel agent that specialized in the Greek islands.
"I know a good one," said the barber. "Tell him that I sent you."
In four days he was in Patmos. The moment he got off the ferryboat, someone was waiting for him with his name written on a placard. It was the man from the small hotel, which the agent back home had already organized for him.
"Are we going to get a taxi?" the ex-rookie asked.
"No, it is only three minutes' walking."
"You speak quite good English."
"I learned English when I was working as a seaman, travelling around the world with the merchant navy. Now I am sort of retiring."
"What can you tell me about the island? Where can I go, and what can I do?"
"To be honest with you, not much. Do you like swimming?"
"Well, when I am with my friends I suppose I do, but by myself, I don't think it is going to be fan."
"Here we are. This is the hotel."
It was a nice little modest hotel. The room was neat and clean, with only the absolute essentials, but with a nice view overlooking the sea.
The man from the hotel told him he couldn't suggest much, as this was a family- oriented island, more for relaxing rather than doing things. He told him not to hesitate to ask him if he wanted something, and left the room.
Michael was tired from the long journey, and lay in bed thinking a little snooze might rejuvenate him, but it was all in vain; he could not possibly sleep, for he wanted to go out and explore the place where he was going to spend his vacation. He got up, and started to wander the Scale, the little port where his hotel was. The first thing he noticed was the pace of the people. Everything seemed to move with this languid leisurely way, compared with his home, especially with his work.
It seemed that here everything ran in slow motion; the priest with his long black robe, the donkey carrying the old man, the little fishing boats dancing lazily with the rhythm of the waves that softly rippled in the sand. Even the tourists seemed to have adopted this pace.
Watching them walk on the streets, Michael was puzzled. No, what am I saying here? he thought. Nobody walks here, they stroll; that is the right word I wanted to use, people here are strolling leisurely, and that is something I'd better get used to.
He walked along the pier, watching the fisherman mending their nets, throwing the little fishes to the cats that passionately and patiently waited for their rewards.
This was something he had always wanted to do, he thought, to be able to fish, but he knew absolutely nothing about it. Farther up, he stumbled to a little restaurant where the chairs and tables were just about wetted by the ripple of the waves. He sat down and ordered fried sardines, a salad and small bottle ouzo.
That was his first day in Patmos, and after the meal, he returned to his hotel room, had a