Era in ospedale, questo l’aveva capito. Nel corso delle ultime ore (o erano giorni?), nei brevi periodi desti di un lungo dormiveglia se n’era reso conto: l’ambiente asettico, i camici bianchi chini su di lui, il lento sgocciolo delle sacche di medicinali in soluzione. Era in ospedale, ma non ricordava perché fosse lì. Ancora sonnolenza, ancora le palpebre che si chiudono artificialmente.
Poi, dopo un periodo che non poteva misurare, un risveglio meno effimero, la stessa stanza, ma qualcuno accanto. Uno sconosciuto, non la moglie o uno dei sui cari, un uomo che vestiva abiti formali ma che si capiva fosse più a suo agio in mimetica.
«Ben svegliato», the stranger greeted him.
"Do ... where are they?".
"In a private clinic. It has undergone some surgery, but I assure you that it's nothing serious. Soon to be released here in the form as before. He has no idea why you are here? ".
the memory, then returned, vivid images before forgotten. The storage of radioactive waste, which was one of the guards at night, the alarm rings, burglary?, Running the armory and then at the North field, lightning, and the shots ... and what? Nothing, nothing more. The hospital, the unknown ...
"I remember an alarm, storage ...."
"Well. E ' better than other memories, indeed, forget that too.. "
"Who are you?".
"She is permissible to ask, I answer is not granted."
"What you want from me?".
"We want to forget." And say he got up and walked toward the door.
"But then, burglary has taken place ...? They stole something? ".
The stranger, on the verge of leaving the room, turned his head, only his head, "She is permissible to ask, I is not allowed to answer. But, remember this, she is allowed only to ask me. Do not put these questions to anyone else, will hear. And we'll meet again, at that caso. Per l’ultima volta.».
Passò del tempo, qualche mese, qualche anno, forse, e in una notte torrida d’estate, il vicecommissario sfogliava l’incartamento dell’assassina filippina mentre, in sottofondo, il canale news aggiornava le vuote stanze sugli ultimi avvenimenti. La fine della Guerra dei Distretti in Cina, una guerra che aveva provocato, secondo stime ufficiose, almeno dieci milioni di morti, l’inaugurazione di una nuova centrale nucleare sulla costa pugliese. L’Amministratore delegato della società elettrica rispondeva competente alle domande della giornalista, magnificava la potenza e l’assenza di significativi impatti ambientali…
«Commissario…». interrupted the agent
"I am a Deputy, yes?".
"A call, a woman wants to sue the husband who tries to enter the house.."
"The husband? He does not come to your house? ".
"It is a long history, he says. The house is yours, leave it to him ... The husband's father ruin himself on the stock market does not want to let him in because he does not want his property to be taken by creditors of the husband, has applied for separation .... "
"Who is this?".
"I called there ... Sara, Sara ... something."
"Got it. Send someone before they wake up the neighborhood. Recommended a hotel with her husband and a lawyer for both of tomorrow "and returned to his file and the Chief Executive reminded how, thanks to nuclear power, would cut emissions of CO2, which was more than 500ppm now, and he remembered how he had not encountered a single incident in last 30 years, at least since 2020. Nuclear power was good for the environment, and given that alternative sources of energy were all resolved in a soap bubble, also remained the only one. So why environmentalists were against? asked the interviewer. And here the Chief smiled, and suggested how the oil lobbies were powerful and could handle ...
"Commissioner .." this time the agent was out of breath, e preoccupato.
«Vice, sì?»
«Piazza Colonna. Kamikaze imbottito di esplosivo.»
«Ancora? Chiama i cecchini, gli artificieri, andiamo… Fate sgombrare, intanto, cordoni…»
«Commissario… Vice… Non ha solo esplosivo. Dice che è pieno di materiale radioattivo.»
Era in mezzo alla piazza, seduto alla base della Colonna. Stringeva un pulsante tra le mani, qualcosa collegato al detonatore, per provocare un’esplosione qualora un cecchino l’avesse ucciso. Gridava di allontanarsi, di allontanarsi tutti, almeno di 50 metri, gridava che mancavano cinque minuti, poi sarebbe esploso.
«Che dicono i contatori?» – chiese il vice commissario ad un camice bianco.
«Non rilevano radioattività».
« Sarà un bluff?».
«Non ci giurerei, Commissario – non fu ricordato che era solo un vice, non era il momento – Vomita, diarrea. Sintomi di malattia da radiazioni.».
«Ma chi è?».
«Stiamo controllando le foto in archivio».
Il sito delle news aveva intanto trovato qualcosa di più eccitante di una pace in Cina e la notizia del kamikaze radioattivo aveva monopolizzato la rete. «Maschere» ordinò il Commissario e tutti gli agenti le calarono sul volto.
«Trovato! –era l’Agente che consultava l’archivio - Paretti, George Paretti. Anarchist fighters. '.
"What else?".
"Several arrests, but nothing really serious. Disappeared from the scene last year ... Wait, there's a medical file. "
Meanwhile, a journalist and the site was gone, instead, had appeared in a black hood from which two feverish eyes and excited. An anarchist fighter, he said. He read a statement, the intruders were at the site of the news. Fight the system. Announced the explosion within minutes. If you took away no one would be hurt, the explosive was in small quantities. But the radioactive waste would make life unbearable entire block of downtown for years. Or at least living with masks. The economic and political activities they would have received irreparable damage. And you could see through the narrow slits of the cap, that his eyes were really amused and pleased.
'Cancer, Commissioner. In the last year, he entered and left the hospital. Stomach, very advanced. "
vomit at his feet a dark stain. He was shivering, emaciated face, eyes feverish. He was sweating in an effort to hold down the button on the detonator. And he looked at his watch.
'It is a bluff - insisted the deputy - is not radiation sickness. It 'a poor man sentenced to die anyway'
One minute, he repeated the black hood.
Move away! More! Forms!
telephoto lens of the news sites were focused on anarchist bombers. Marked the second, forty, thirty, his New Year's Eve, the beginning of a new story, the end of its history. Three, two, one, and an explosion scattered around the square flesh and blood and vomit and shit, and smeared the Antonine column, and never the massacres of Germans, representing them, had seemed more realistic and alive.
And then a little cloud rose, white and light, a summer snow that came down from heaven, but rose from a corpse, or what was left of it.
"Forms! - Cried the deputy again - Counters! Detectors. "
"No radioactivity, sir, nothing."
"And the dust?".
A white coat had approached, had picked up the flakes. "It looks like talc, Commissioner."
"Talc?.
"Yes, Commissioner! The suicide bomber was filled with talcum powder. "
cathartic laughter then spread like a wave among the staff of the strings, starting with those nearest and coming, as they brought the news by word of mouth, the most distant. So, while the former have rejoiced, the latter were still worried and fearful, and when they finally began to laugh, had the first already risen masks and gave slapping each other and laughed, and staggered into the laughter and precarious balance on the slippery blood on the asphalt. Someone eventually lost his balance and, without the crowds, even more coarse, cease, human waste fell about celebrating the narrow escape.
The deputy announced the good news to journalists over the cords. Bluff! he repeated, was a bluff! Talc, talcum powder!
"Mission Accomplished," announced in the meantime the black hood.
not true! It is not true at all! It is waving the Deputy Commissioner. It was talcum powder! Only talcum powder.
"Mission accomplished - repeated – A Milano. Quello di Roma era solo un diversivo» e la sua immagine sparì, e ritornò il canale news. Scorrevano in basso le ultime notizie di agenzia: “Esplosione a Milano, via Vittor Pisani, deserta, per l’ora. Non si segnalano feriti. Da prime indiscrezioni si registrano elevati livelli di radioattività.”
Pubblicato su
gli Italiani
Numero 77 di Ucuntu
0 comments:
Post a Comment