Via Baltica
Written by Petri Salin
3. prize on Baltastica 2003
Contact: email-deleted
(C) Petri Salin 2003, no unauthorized use permitted


I waited for her outside the lavatory.
	- Are you quite all right? I asked her when she finally came out,
looking more than a bit queasy.
	- Yes, she replied, though none too convincingly. I stepped
closer, trying to catch a whiff of her breath.
	- You haven't been ill, have you?
	She looked at me with uncomprehending eyes.
	- You didn't vomit? I said. - I mean throw up?
	- No, she said, shaking her head.
	- Jolly good, I said. - Splendid. Let's get on with it then, shall we?

The rest of the day we spent in Helsinki, a bleak and dreary place that 
looked like a real city, only a city that had been left soaking in the cold 
sea for several centuries, inhabitants and all, and had since been restored 
on dry land, stripped to the bone, its inhabitants still thawing up - or 
perhaps they'd already given up on it. The light in the autumnal city hardly 
could be called light at all. At best it was a kind of funereal dusk, at 
worst it simply wasn't there.
	She claimed it was her birthday and wanted to go places, go
shopping, have fun, just have fun, like a regular normal person, but as I
couldn't let her out of my sight she couldn't. Which meant that instead we
sat around in a bland generic café drinking coffee and eating far too many
sickly pastries.
	Suddenly she started weeping, softly.
	- What is it? I said.
	- The music, she said. - So beautiful.
	- Oh, I said, noticing it for the first time. - Rather.
	- What is it? You know?
	- Strauss, I imagine. Maybe Mahler.
	"Und morgen wird die Sonne wieder scheinen", the singer's voice
engulfed us, hopeful, desperate, bittersweet. "Und zu dem Strand, dem
weiten, wogenblauen, werden wir still und langsam niedersteigen".
	She can't have been more than fourteen, but with her face all
painted she could and easily did pass for someone twice her age. Now, with
no make up whatsoever, her face all pale and a bit bloated, her blond hair
in childlike pigtails, her age and innocence were staggeringly obvious.
I'd found her in Hamburg plying her young but all too quickly dilapidating
body to any passer-by just to stay alive. Her's was the usual story - a
runaway from a broken home - and now she was doing her damnedest not to
drown in an ocean of filth and depravity.
	In Hamburg she claimed to be an Estonian, and why on earth should
I doubt her story? She did appear to speak the language, the strange
strange language that to western ears sounded very much like the song of a
small bird when it was being particulary chirpy and joyous, but what did
that prove? Her nationality was of no consequence to me. Why should it be?
She was perfect. Just perfect.

The ferry to Tallinn was extremely fast, half an hour, if that. I'd taken
it a few times just to see how the whole thing worked. No hitches. None.
	Except that I just didn't like the sea. In fact it scared me.
Seriously.  Even this laughable little pond with its prepubescent waves
washing from one coast to the other with hardly anything in between. The
sea was death and made me nervous.
	- From now on we don't know each other, I said as I gave her her
passport.  It was a fake, obviously, giving a false name and her age as
twenty-two.  She'd put on her face so as to look more like her adult alter
ego in the photograph. A real pro, her.
	When her turn came the man examining the passports just waved her
through.  I wasn't quite as lucky.
	- Anything wrong? I inquired, trying to sound as worried as any
ordinary, innocent fellow would in a situation such as this. They pulled
me aside, stripped me, thoroughly examined my every orifice. When they
found nothing they brought out the dogs.
	- Would somebody please tell me what's going on? I said, sounding
increasingly angry, bothered, fearful. Of course my plea was ignored.
	The dog was not a biological dog, but parts of it looked as if
they once had been alive. It started sniffing my feet and as it proceeded
upwards its legs grew and got longer until we were face to face, the
cyberdog's chilled eyes staring deep into mine, desperately trying to
uncover any guilty secret I may or may not have been harbouring behind
them, failing miserably I hardly need add.
	The dog found nothing as there was nothing for it to find. I was
using my own passport because today it was far too risky to do otherwise.
I had nothing to hide. I had never been prosecuted for anything, never
even been charged. Oh there were rumours, suspicion aplenty, no doubt my
name was heavily flagged, no doubt I was on every black list from
Reykjavik to Ushuaia, but officially I was unblemished, my name as pure as
the driven snow.
	To add insult to injury, or possibly the other way around, the dog
jabbed a sharp needle into my shoulder and drew what surely must be a
blatantly illegal blood sample.
	- What the devil do you think you're doing! I exclaimed. - What
are you people looking for? I do hope you realize I've a ferry to catch!
I'll hold you responsible if I miss it! I added, rather feebly I must
confess.
	Within seconds my blood had been analysed.
	- You can get dressed now, the man who seemed to be in charge said
after having checked the results of my test. He didn't like it, he didn't
like it one little bit, but there was nothing he could do. But he sure as
hell wasn't going to apologize.
	As I entered the shuttle-like ferry they were all watching me. I
winked and flashed them my toothiest smile. Better luck next time, old
chaps.

I was sitting in the business lounge imbibing a well deserved libation in
the form of a malt whisky and a ballistically sized cigar, when she came
to me.
	- I not feel so good, she said and slouched down in the seat next
to mine.
	- Poor child, I said and got rid of the cigar. She lowered her
head in my lap and I stroked her hair, gently. - You know you oughtn't to
be here, actually.
	- I go, she said, attempting to rise.
	- No it's all right, I said. - You needn't go. Perhaps you should
try to sleep a bit.
	She closed her eyes.
	- My mother in Tallinn, she said at last. - Can we go see her?
Please?
	Ah. Dear me. That would pose a problem. Definitely a problem.
	- We go? Please?
	- Certainly, I said. - Why ever not?

As the trip wore on she became increasingly delirious.
	- My god, I said as I felt her forehead. - You really are in a bad
way, old girl.
	She was burning up and shivering as if coming down with a serious
cold.
	- How do you feel?
	In response she was sick all over the floor.
	- Shit, I said and escorted her to the lavatory where she was sick
all over again.
	I took my mobile phone and dialled the number I had been careful
to memorize but not store.
	- Yeah? the man on the other end said.
	- It's me, I said.  - I think there might be a bit of a problem.
She's quite ill.
	- What?
	- She's throwing up all over the place.
	- Just bloody seasick.
	- No it's more than that.
	There was a pause. The Australian was thinking. Then suddenly
something occured to him.
	- You using your fucking mobile you fucking tosser? he said and
before I had time to answer the line went quite dead.
	Two minutes later my mobile rang.
	- Is there a pay phone on board? the Australian asked.
	- I think so.
	- Then go to it. Now.
	I didn't want to leave her, not in the state she was, not when she
was in so much pain, but I did as he told me.
	- Right, I said as I stood at the phone cubicle.
	- The number?
	I gave it and he rang off. A few seconds later the pay phone rang.
I answered it.
	- How bad is it?
	- Bad. I think she could die.
	- No fucking way!
	- She's fading. As we speak.
	- No way we're gonna sodding loose her!
	- Shall I take her to the doctor? There must be one on board.
	- No doctors! he shouted. - Do you fucking hear! No fucking
doctors!
	- What? So what the devil am I supposed to do?
	- I'll call back in five, he said and rang off.
	I went back to her. She had passed out.
	- Wake up, I said and sprinkled cold water on her face. But she
wouldn't wake up as I knew she wouldn't. I had deliberately exaggerated
her condition to the Australian but now the whole thing was getting quite
serious. Her pulse was uneven and her face was all clammy and cold. There
was nothing I could do for her.
	Nothing.
	I went back to the pay phone. It was ringing like crazy. I picked
up the receiver.
	- Where the hell have you been! the Australian bellowed, irate. -
How is she?
	- In a coma.
	- It's all right, he said surprisingly.
	- What do you mean?
	- How long ago did she swallow it?
	I glanced at my watch. - Four hours. Four and a half.
	- No worries, mate! My computer geezer tells me her body has
absorbed the entire program already, lock, stock and bleedin' barrell.
	- So?
	- We don't need her alive. Matey.
	I said nothing.
	- Just rip the little bitch up and bring me her fucking liver.

This is bad, I thought as I stood in the lavatory, knife in hand, waiting
for her to die, this is bad indeed. I didn't have to wait for long. She'd
already stopped breathing and little by little, one by one, the computer
program was shutting down her organs.
	- This really wasn't supposed to happen, you know, I said aloud. -
I'm so sorry.
	The bioprogram I'd stolen and given to her to swallow never was
supposed to react with her body's own biological programs. She was just a
vessel for me to smuggle it out in. It simply wasn't possible for this to
be happening.
	Just when I thought the end had come she went into massive
convulsions, her body twisting and her extremities flailing. I took her
into my arms and held her tight till she was no more.
	My hand was shaking when again I picked up the knife. I couldn't
do it.  Couldn't and didn't want to. Shit. I went out on the deck to clear
my head.  To my surprise we were nearly there. I closed my eyes and
started inhaling and exhaling with artificial carefulness. When I opened
my eyes I could see them standing at the dock, waiting like the vultures
they were. The sight of them instantly electrified me. I knew exactly what
I must do.
	I went back to the lavatory where I had stashed her body in one of
the booths and lifted her out. I laid her lifeless arm around my neck and
walked her out on the deck, trying to make it look as if she were still
alive.
	When I was certain no one was watching I threw her in. The sea
opened up to her and took her to its fleeting womb.
	- Farewell, I said softly. - I'm sorry.
	The sea was now her mother.

- That wasn't a very clever thing to do, the first goon said.
	- Not a clever thing at all, the second goon said.
	They'd been waiting for me outside the terminal. When it became
obvious that she wasn't coming out, things got ugly. They searched the
ferry and when they didn't find her they took me to a deserted warehouse
somewhere in the outskirts of town.
	- Where is she? the Australian said, his body language all menace
and poorly suppressed mayhem.
	I told them. They refused to believe me. They beat me, viciously.
I stuck to my story.
	- She died, I said. - I threw her overboard.
	- You're lying, the Australian said.
	- He wouldn't dare, the first goon said. - He wouldn't be that
stupid.
	- He's sold her to someone else, the Australian said. - Tosser!
You betrayed me! I paid you and you sold her to someone else! Did you
really think you'd fucking get away with it?
	They beat me some more.
	- I want my program! the Australian roared. - Do you understand!
Now fucker, right now!
	- I haven't got it, I managed to whisper hoarsely. - My word as a
gentleman.
	- Well then, the Australian said, straightening his tie and
starting to leave. - I guess we don't need you.

- Dig!
	I dug. I dug my own grave. As I kept digging the goons lit their
foul fags and started talking.
	- He had her when he boarded, the first goon said. - We know this
for a fact.
	- So? the second goon said.
	- And we know she didn't step off here.
	- Queer, innit.
	- Well she must be somewhere. Stands to reason, don't it? You know
I'm beginning to think the sorry bastard didn't lie after all. You really
did dump her, didn't you?
	- Yes, I replied.
	- Where?
	I stopped digging.
	- Tell you what sunshine, the first goon said, his voice veritably
dripping with the milk of human kindness. - You take us there, you take us
where you dumped her, and we'll let you live. Can't put it fairer than
that, can I now? The Australian don't need to know nothing. We'll keep the
whole thing to ourselves.
	I remained mute.
	- I'll even go one better, he went on, ferally. - We'll sell her
body and split the money three ways. How's that sound to you, mate?
	Like a lie, I thought.
	- Let's do it, I said.

The wind was wailing in sheer desperation, the waves kept beating up
anything they jolly well encountered with no mercy whatsoever, drenching
us, drowning us. Mother Nature was feeling particularly sore and nasty
tonight and would take no prisoners. I knew exactly how she felt.
	It was entirely hopeless and they were beginning to catch on.
They'd stolen a boat, a dinghy really, and here we were, not far from the
quay, merrily getting slaughtered by the howling storm.
	- This it? the first goon said.
	- I think so, I said.
	- You'll have to do fucking better than that, the second goon said
and struck me across the face.
	- She could be anywhere, the first goon said, letting his torch
sweep across the restless waters. - The currents could have taken her
anywhere.
	- If this is even where he dumped her.
	- You'll never find her, I said, fear and anguish suddenly giving
way to a kind of suicidal glee.
	- Shut up! the second goon said and struck me once more.
	- You won't, I said. - And I'm glad.
	- That's it! the second goon said and whipped out his gun. - I'm
doing you right fucking now!
	He pressed the gun in my neck. I closed my eyes. It was over.
	- Bloody hell! the first goon yelled. - I think I see something! I
think it's a corpse!
	- I'm capping this cunt, the second goon said and pressed his gun
even closer.
	- You waste him now and how're we gonna know it's the right
corpse?
	- Shit! the second goon said and reluctantly pocketed his piece.
	I opened my eyes.
	- Right there! the first goon said and pointed with his light. I
saw nothing.  - See?
	I saw it, I saw something, something fair bobbing along like a
piece of cork. Maybe a head. Then it was gone.
	- Where'd it go?
	The first goon started waving around with his torch, trying to
catch the head - if indeed it was one - in his light, having remarkably
little success.
	Again the head became visible. There was something about it that
frightened me. Probably the light hitting the eyes in a bizarre angle.
	- Fish her out! the first goon ordered me. - Take an oar and fish
her out!
	I plunged the oar in the water and right away it got stuck -
almost as if someone was pulling at it. The waves were climbing ever
higher and it was just a matter of time before the dinghy would be
overturned.
	- It's her! the first goon shouted. - I can bloody see her! It's
gotta be the little tart!
	- Grab her! the second goon shouted. - Do it!
	And when I do it you kill me, I thought.
	- Did you get her?
	- Hurry up, fucker! You trying to get us killed or what?
	The second goon leaned over to see what the hell was going on and
at that precise moment a cold hand arose from the water and grabbed him by
the throat and pulled him in.
	- Fucking hell! the first goon shouted and went for his gun.
	It was too late.
	Faster than the eye could see the watery hand caught hold of his
sleeve and he disappeared into the icy blackness, mouthing his final
obscenities until they were as drowned as he was.
	When at last she pulled herself into the boat, I almost didn't
recognize her. It was she but it wasn't. Not anymore. Her hair had fallen
out, her eyes were on fire, her entire body was transformed into something
not quite human.
	- Poor child! I exclaimed. - What has the program done to you!
	I felt her body. It was burning up.
	The program had taken over all her vital functions, every organ in
her body, and now was running her like a rogue computer. She looked at me,
put her arms around me, and with one sharp movement she tipped us over.
	The water received us gently, with a lingering caress.
	Then, like I killed her, she killed me.