“Frederich,” repeated Ida.
“Sorry,” he said, exhaling slowly and moving away from the window. “I’ve put you at risk again.” He sat down beside Ida, grasping his hands together and leaning forward.
“It’s not your fault. I just don’t understand what he wants from me. Can’t you talk to Kalakia?”
“Vidrik’s gone rogue. He went after me yesterday, but he got away. I… I let him escape.”
“Do you know where he is?”
Frederich bit his lower lip and shook his head.
“Don’t worry, we’ll find him. I promise,” he said.
“That’s not why I came,” said Ida. “I don’t want anything to do with another killing. One time was enough.”
“This guy is crazy, Ida. You won’t be safe unless I stop him.”
“Listen, you do what you like. If murdering people makes you happy, that’s your problem. Just don’t drag me into it. Spare me the macho bullshit. I came here for answers. I thought maybe this guy didn’t get the message to leave me alone, that’s all.”
“He knew,” said Frederich. “He didn’t care.”
“Ok. So that’s the way it is.”
The spectre of Vidrik hung thick in the air and sucked the life out of their conversation. So did the memory of Frederich and Ida’s dreary last encounter at Lustgarten.
“I’m gonna go,” said Ida.
She stood up and began walking out of the living room. Before Frederich knew it, the same intolerable ache hit him in the chest like the last time Ida walked away from him.
“Don’t go,” he said in a knee-jerk way.
Ida stopped before she got to the door and turned around. The dull pain spread from his chest to the rest of his body.
“Why not?” she asked.
Frederich shrugged.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Because I don’t want you to. I want you to stay.”
“Why?”
She was drawing him in again, trapping him with her questions. Only he was the one trying to keep her around. She stared expectantly at him.
“You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?” he said, hoping to buy more time.
Ida’s cheeks turned red, and she scowled, ready to spit fire at him. He had nowhere to hide. Tell her.
“Look,” he said. “I know you’re angry. I went behind your back last time. I lied to you. I shut you out. I thought I was protecting you, but all I did was hurt you and put you at risk. Now I’ve done it again. I’m angry enough at myself. I can’t take you being angry on top of that. Just let me help fix this. Please. If something happened to you…”
He felt hot everywhere, picturing Vidrik lurking over Ida with his deranged intentions. Ida’s eyes were unflinching, trained directly at him like laser rays. She appeared to be thinking, contemplating the best way to tell him how stupid and inconsiderate he was.
“I promised myself that whatever happened, I was never going to let anyone take advantage of me again,” she said. “No more shutting me out. If I see you holding back, I’m gone. Ok? I can take care of myself.”
“Ok,” said Frederich.
Ida nodded while maintaining a sharp expression which held Frederich in place like a misbehaving little boy caught in the act.
“So aren’t you going to offer me a drink?” she asked suddenly, lifting her eyebrows.
Kalakia knew Stirner would be unable to resist. His mother was chopping the onions when he went into the kitchen to tell her. There was a brief moment of hesitation; a silent, reluctant acknowledgement that he was leaving too soon. They had barely begun to bridge the gap caused by the last forty years. She froze, the knife still in her hand, then nodded solemnly.
He emerged from the house and his sharpness of mind returned as the breeze hit his face. It brought with it the real world, where Kalakia was the most feared man on the planet. Inside he had merely been his mother’s son. Her boy.
A group of ten soldiers stayed back to guard the road leading into Kalakia’s hometown. The rest of the fleet drove over an hour away into the mountains as a security precaution before Francois dialled the connection provided by Stirner’s people. He handed the phone to Kalakia. The call rang for almost a minute as Kalakia stood by. A childish power play, he noted. Finally, there was an answer.
The line remained silent for some time — another ploy.
“I do not blame you for not knowing what to say,” said Kalakia. “Worry not, old friend. Your cowardice has spoken clearly.”
Stirner let out a throaty grunt.
“Old friend,” he said. “Consider it a favour between friends that I even made the call. I was going to finish you off without saying a word.”
“It is far too late for courtesy. You are a traitor. That is how you will be remembered. The world will voice its disgust about what you have done, and then it will forget you.”
“I have other plans for my legacy,” said Stirner.
“You lack honour, and you lack imagination. Plan all you wish. The result will be the same.”
“Say what you want. Just know, your tyrannical reign is over. A new order is emerging.”
“You bore me, Stirner,” said Kalakia. “Does this conversation have a purpose?”
“You won’t be bored for long, don’t worry,” replied Stirner. “Oh, I have waited for this. It wasn’t easy putting up with a pompous bastard like you. But that is what I do. I wait. And now, it’s time. Your soldiers are ambitious people, and they are intelligent enough to see the truth. I can offer them real power. Your model is outdated. They’re going to leave you in droves and come to me. By the way, Matthias Vidrik says hello.”
Kalakia went quiet, giving Stirner all the space he needed to boast and run his mouth. Already Stirner had revealed a part of his strategy to target League soldiers for defection. Stirner was hinting at a war of ideologies. Kalakia maintained his
