The Aftermath

II

During his short time at the military base, Oelin turned to philosophy and inevitably became tormented by several thoughts: should he have stayed behind with his family as a true friend or were true friends somehow different from family members? Did he even have any true friends left in this world? Would Enoea ever prosper again? 

And suddenly, he stopped on this question. Something began to form in his head - a vision that became clearer and clearer with every passing second, like the future in a fortune-teller's orb. 

And at last he could see it: It was the middle of the night. He was standing next to a tall barb-wire fence surrounding a large circular area that was lit by powerful projectors. All around there stood menacing-looking heavily armed guards. And in the centre of this large circular area, loomed a strange, dark, massive form. Oelin felt as if he had to get to that mysterious object in the centre of the ring. So he began his climb over the barbed-wire fence. He was wearing gloves. One of the guards abruptly turned around. His piercing eyes glared at Oelin. He lifted his weapon to shoot. 

Suddenly a child's loud voice ruptured a hole in the night. Oelin abruptly opened his eyes, which had been closed. He was still at the military base. The large circular area with the guards and the projectors and the dark form had all just been a vision. 

Oelin saw before him the little boy with whom he had hidden in the bomb shelter during the war. The child was saying something, but Oelin couldn't hear him. He was too concerned about the vision he had had. What was that dark form? Why did he so desperately want to reach it? Would this vision come true? After all, Oelin was known for being very psychic. 

And in a moment he forgot all about the vision. The little boy, who had been saying something and getting no reply several times, was hugging Oelin and asking him, "Dada, has your hearing gone bad?"

Oelin suddenly felt very guilty. This child who did not even know him (the Alenn family was massive) was embracing and calling him like his own father! So family members meant even more than true friends. Oelin planned to listen to what the little boy was trying to tell him and then go to the police department and ask to be put into jail or even executed for his terrible sin: leaving his family behind. 

"No, dear child," Oelin said. "My hearing is all right. I was just thinking about something. What did you want to tell me?"

"Can you go with me to see the big airplanes, Dada?"

Oelin shuddered at the memory of that large aircraft flying towards the ocean to drop a bomb on  the terrorists. The little boy, on the contrary, had forgotten almost everything about the war. That is why little children are always so happy and so pure: they forget their troubles, worries, and their strife momentarily.

I wish I could lose my memory, Oelin suddenly thought. At least I could forget about the war...

But then he thought that forgetting about the war and his family was a sin.

"Okay," he told the little boy. "We can go and see the airplanes."

They walked from hangar to hangar. The hangars were extremely dark - they didn't allow for much daylight to come in through the dusty windows. The massive aircraft loomed over them like massive steel vultures. The little boy stopped to look at things that caught his eye and asked Oelin so many questions that Oelin became very tired and didn't want to go to the police department. 

I have to, I have to, he kept on repeating to himself. Such a sinner as I cannot remain free.

"Little boy, what is your name?" Oelin asked abruptly.

"My name is Loen," the little boy replied, "but what are these things on the airplane's wings?"

"Engines."

"What do they put in that hole in its belly?"

Loen meant the large bay in the aircraft's belly that was supposed to hold a bomb.

"You would not want to know," Oelin replied.

"Oh, Dada, please do tell me," Loen insisted.

Sighing, Oelin said, "Death. They put horrid, gruesome death in that hole."

Loen shuddered a bit but then moved on to his next question.

"Why is its tail sticking up like that?"

"To stabilise it."

"What is stabilise?"

"Right now I am stable," Oelin answered, "and right now" (he pretended to be about to fall over) "I am not stable."

The little boy nodded, giggling a bit, and continued asking questions.

"Why is it green?"

"I have no idea whatsoever."

And Oelin suddenly thought that painting these weapons of destruction a dark shade of green was pretty foolish. If he was the painter, he would paint it black and purple to honour and mourn those that had been killed by the bombs this plane had dropped.

"Why doesn't it have any windows?" Loen asked.

"So the pilots can't see the death and destruction they have caused."

"Umm... What if the plane crashes?"

"The pilots will probably die."

"Why are there so many wheels in the back?"

"Because the back is heavy."

Et cetera, et cetera. There is no need to describe all of the ways Loen demonstrated his curiosity.

When the boy finally got tired of playing his game of questioning Oelin, the last took him to bed. It was 8:00 PM. 

Oelin then walked toward his own bedroom in this massive complex full of enough ammunition to gruesomely vaporise an entire planet. He entered it and slumped down on the small cot and dozed off. When he woke up from his dreamless half-slumber, he found the time to be 9:30 PM. 

Oelin opened the door and peeked out to reassure himself that everybody was asleep. Then he started down the narrow, dimly lit aisle. He shuddered when he saw his own shadow (the reader probably knows what it feels like when they walk by a dim light source in the middle of the night and are scared by their own shadow). At the end of the aisle, he found himself face-to-face with a night watch.

"Where's the police department?" he asked abruptly.

"Cross this hall and you will encounter three doors," was the cold reply. "The leftmost one opens into the police department."

"Thanks," Oelin said, a peculiar mix of impertinence and sarcasm in his voice.

In a minute he had crossed the hall, opened the door, and found himself in a small, dark, stuffy room. On his left there was a box full of ammunition. On his right he saw several uniforms hanging on the wall. In the back of the room a short, husky man sat behind a small desk. 

"What do you want, citizen Alenn?" he inquired.