Peace on Earth, Page 22

  “Speak or go, old friend,” I said. “You know that whatever I write, the Agency will deny it…”

  “But if you name me as your informant, it could mean unpleasantness for me.”

  “The money will make the unpleasantness less unpleasant. I’ll name you if you don’t tell me. Anyway, I think you should get professional help. Your nerves are shot. It’s quite obvious. You can’t hide it.”

  He was silent, a broken man. The comers of his mouth twitched. I felt sorry for him.

  “You won’t quote me?”

  “I’ll change the name and your appearance.”

  “They’ll know me even so.”

  “Not necessarily. Do you think it was only you they sent to stick to me? But this whole thing was your side’s work, wasn’t it?”

  He was indignant.

  “We have nothing to do with the Lunar Agency. They were the ones!”

  “How and why?”

  “I’m not sure how but I know why. It was so you wouldn’t make it back. If you died there, things would remain the same.”

  “Not forever. Sooner or later…”

  “That was the point, it would be later. They were afraid of the report.”

  “Let’s suppose. And the dust? How did it get into my suit? How could they have known about the dust?”

  “They didn’t know, but Lax-Gugliborc had his fear. That’s why he fiddled with the dispersant.”

  “You learned this?” I was surprised.

  “His assistant belongs to us. Lauher.”

  I remembered my first meeting with the professor. He had indeed said that one of his colleagues was a spy. It put everything in a different light.

  “The callotomy, that was them too?”

  “I don’t know.” He shrugged, added, “And you will never know. No one will ever know. When the stakes are that high, the truth no longer exists. All that remain are theories. Different versions. As it was with Kennedy.”

  “President Kennedy?”

  “The stakes here were higher. The whole world! There’s nothing higher. Now write what you promised…”

  From the drawer I took a sheet of paper and a pen. Kramer stood at the window, his back to me. I signed the document and handed it to him. He looked and was surprised.

  “You made a mistake.”

  “No.”

  “Ten?”

  “Ten.”

  “All right. It’s my turn. I’ll tell you. The dispersant was supposed to draw you to the moon.”

  “You’re telling me it was Lax-Gugliborc? I don’t believe it!”

  “Not the professor. He didn’t know anything. Lauher knew. To the fifty-odd programs he added one. Not hard to do for a programmer.”

  “So it was your side after all.”

  “No. He was also working for a third party.”

  “Lauher was?”

  “Yes, but we needed him.”

  “All right. The dispersant called me. I landed. But what about the sand?”

  “An unplanned factor. Unforeseen by everyone. If you can’t remember that moment, no one will ever know. Ever.”

  He folded the paper in two, put it in his pocket, and at the door turned and said:

  “So long.”

  I watched him walk toward the main pavilion. As he disappeared behind the hedge, my left hand took my right hand and shook it. I can’t say I was thrilled by this gesture of support. But life must go on.