Our marriage ceremony, where we swore to be together forever, no matter what, was only for the videotape. Everything else was pure cultural formalities that mean nothing in the real world. I will never forget her expression the day they freed me, when she opened the door and saw me. She looked like she had seen a ghost. I gave her full custody of Salia. I gave her and her husband my benediction and a pardon, just like the army did for me.
Konu gave me the keys to the back door that opens into the small kitchen. I went on and made another small coffee and waiting for him to wake up. I was thinking if the world does not end this week, I may take Salia to the league to meet Oina, just so she can see how a real woman looks. She must trust in herself and her potential, not just cave in with the first asshole she falls in love with. Soon she will be 13 and at this age, girls start to think about a relationship, a prince charming that will love her and protect her. Preferably, he would be a handsome one so she can introduce him to her friends and be proud. That said, she needs advice and not from just anyone, especially not from that new, asshole boyfriend of her mum.
I spoke with him only once. I don't know why every civilian with no life experience, always has strong opinions about peace and war. They seem to start decorating their cowardice every time they meet a veteran with something like, “You see, Dismar, only poor people fight and die in wars. The top generals and officials are safe in their castles with their mistresses.”
Konu lives alone in his small house that he decorated by himself with his bad taste. He has no mistresses living with him, and to be honest, I’ve never seen him with one here or anywhere. He has a membership to all the pornographic channels, but he stood faithful to Oina, and I don’t want to classify her as a mistress out of respect. He is modest, but his kind of modesty is the kind you inherit from the army where he was trained to be self-sufficient without the need of anything except your food and your weapon.
Konu still puzzles me, I am driving him around, buying him his weird carrot juice every morning, watching him waking up and sleeping calmly, never seen him tired, nervous, or out of shape, and to be honest, I really like and respect him – but this guy is a trip. When I got out of jail, I received an official letter from the commandants to head to the Arc for a job interview. That sounded bizarre because not only was I freed from a high treason sentence, but I was offered a job at the Arc, too.
I had my first interview with the services, then the same day, a second one with him. When I left, I asked an old friend of mine about him, as I heard some rumors that he is an ex-Black Unit. A few days later, he gave me his full resume. There was no Black Unit career, but surprisingly, the details on seven years were missing.
There were stories about a dude in the Black Unit who went through all the missions with no casualties, and those coincide with the seven years lost in the Konu's resume. I guess that could be him, or it could be just a coincidence. The Black Unit files are destroyed after each mission, so no archives left after the completion of their tasks. The teams are rotated around from different sites, so it’s hard to track a person through all that. Although now, knowing him as I do, I think that’s impossible. Konu doesn't look like he could hurt a fly. Not him with his tea with mint, or his carrot juice. No, he would look like a joke next to the animals of the Black Unit.
I am fixing my cup of coffee, anxious, after reading this morning’s report from the atomic observatories across the country. They are in charge of measuring time for some reason. It turns out that yesterday, time shifted in some places by one second. In the quantum world, one second is a lot, and this coincided with a talking baby who was born in one of the ManFirst reserves. The baby promptly predicted the end of the world and then died, Yeah, no joke. What a bizarre morning.
Suddenly I felt a presence, I turned to my right, and there was Konu, staring at me, quiet…, creepy,
“Good morning, sir. I didn't see you coming.”
Sipping his cup of carrot juice, he remarked, “Hi. Dismar. Is everything okay? You’ve been talking to yourself for a long time now, you know.”
I replied defensively, I have no idea why I lashed out with all my concerns. “The atomic clocks shifted by one second yesterday, the same night a talking baby was born and predicted the end of the world then died. The First Citizens are planning to conquer the world this week, and next week, my Salia will be 13. Her new father is throwing her a party… and
