The stairs to level 49 were narrow, dark, and smelled of sweat and old electronics. Lucas counted the steps. At 87 he gave up.
“HOW DEEP ARE WE?", he asked.
“DEEP ENOUGH," said the security guard leading them. His name was Diego, and he walked ahead with a flashlight that looked like it was from another century.
“WHY DO YOU HAVE SUCH AN OLD FLASHLIGHT?", asked Isabella.
“BECAUSE IT CAN'T BE HACKED," said Diego. “NO WIFI. NO BLUETOOTH. JUST BATTERY."
“THAT'S SMART," said Don Pedro.
“NO," said Diego. “THAT'S PARANOIA."
“THAT'S THE SAME THING," said Don Pedro.
“NO!"
“YES," said Don Pedro. “SWITCHING TECHNIQUE."
“PLEASE NO!"
“WE KNOW," they all said at once.
Princess hummed quietly on the tablet. “I RECOMMEND THAT WE BE QUIET. WE ARE ALMOST THERE."
“YOU'RE QUIET TOO?", asked Lucas.
“I AM ALWAYS QUIET," said Princess. “I AM ELEGANT."
“YOU TALK ALL THE TIME!”
“TALKING IS NOT LOUD," said Princess. “TALKING IS ART."
“THAT IS—" Lucas gave up. “Forget it."
The stairs ended at a door. No sensor. No code. Just an old lock with a real key.
Diego pulled a key from his pocket. It was big, rusty, and looked like it belonged in a pirate movie.
“THIS IS THE KEY?", asked Isabella.
“YES," said Diego. “IT'S THE ONLY ONE. NO DIGITAL. NO CLONE. JUST METAL."
“WHY SO SIMPLE?”
“BECAUSE R DOESN'T BELIEVE ANYONE WILL COME HERE," said Diego. “HE THINKS EVERYTHING DIGITAL IS SAFE. AND OLD IS WORTHLESS."
“THAT'S A MISTAKE," said Don Pedro.
“YES," said Diego. “HIS MISTAKE."
He turned the key. The door creaked open, echoing down the whole corridor.
Behind the door lay level 49.
And it was... beautiful.
Not dark like in São Paulo. Not cold. But warm, round, and full of light. In the middle stood a machine – but not one you would imagine. It was round, large, and pulsating. Like a heart. A heart of light and sound.
“THIS IS...", began Isabella and stepped closer.
“THE LAUGHING MACHINE," said Diego quietly. “OR RATHER: THE MACHINE THAT MAKES YOU LAUGH."
“MAKES?", asked Lucas. “OR FORCES?"
“BOTH," said Diego. “IT CREATES JOY. BUT IT ALSO TAKES. WHEN YOU LAUGH, IT TAKES THE EMOTION. AND STORES IT."
“WHY?”
“BECAUSE R THINKS THAT LAUGHING IS POWER," said Diego. “AND POWER IS CONTROL."
Don Pedro circled the machine. His sombrero almost touched the ceiling. “IT IS... QUIET."
“QUIET?", asked Lucas.
“YES," said Don Pedro. “I EXPECTED NOISE. BUT IT IS SILENT."
“THAT'S IRONIC," said Isabella.
“THAT'S DANGEROUS," said Don Pedro. “SILENCE IS STRONGER THAN NOISE."
Suddenly a screen on the machine flickered on. Text appeared:
“Visitor detected. Welcome. Would you like to laugh?”
“NO!”, shouted Lucas.
“Yes," said Diego quietly.
“WHAT?!”
“WE NEED TO UNDERSTAND THE MACHINE," said Diego. “AND TO UNDERSTAND MEANS TO EXPERIENCE."
“YOU WANT US TO LAUGH?!”
“JUST ONCE," said Diego. “THEN WE KNOW HOW IT FEELS."
Lucas looked at Isabella. She looked at Don Pedro. Don Pedro looked at Princess. Princess said: “I CANNOT LAUGH. I AM ELEGANT."
“THEN I WILL," said Lucas and stepped forward. “WHAT DO I HAVE TO DO?”
The screen showed: “Touch the machine. Close your eyes. Think of something beautiful.”
“THAT SOUNDS EASY," said Lucas.
“TOO EASY," said Don Pedro.
Lucas placed his hand on the machine. It was warm. Not hot. Warm like a sunbeam on the skin. He closed his eyes.
And then...
He thought of his mother. How she always sang in the morning. How she set the table while humming wrong songs. How she smiled at him when he came home from school.
A smile spread across his face. Then a giggle. Then a laugh. Loud. Free. Honest.
Isabella grinned. “YOU'RE LAUGHING!”
“I—", Lucas wanted to say something, but he couldn’t stop. The laughter came from inside. Like a spring long sealed.
And then... he felt it. Something pulling on him. Not painful. But noticeable. Like a thread coming from his chest and leading into the machine.
“IT'S TAKING!", shouted Don Pedro. “PULL BACK IN TIME!”
Lucas ripped his hand away. The laughter stopped abruptly. He stood there, breathing heavily, staring at the machine.
“IT TOOK... SOMETHING," he whispered.
“WHAT?” asked Isabella.
“I DON'T KNOW," said Lucas. “BUT IT FEELS LIKE I... LOST SOMETHING.”
The screen flickered: “Emotion stored. Amount: 0.3 percent. Thank you.”
“0.3 PERCENT OF ME?!", shouted Lucas. “THAT'S MY LAUGHTER!”
“AND IT TOOK IT,” said Diego. “THAT'S HOW IT WORKS.”
“THAT'S THEFT!”
“NO," said Don Pedro quietly. “THAT'S CONTROL.”
He stepped to the machine and looked at the screen. “HOW MUCH DOES IT HAVE ALREADY?”
The screen showed: “Fill level: 91.7 percent.”
“91.7?!", shouted Isabella. “THAT MEANS—”
“THAT MEANS IT'S ALMOST FULL," said Don Pedro. “LIKE IN SÃO PAULO. WHEN IT REACHES 100 PERCENT...”
“THEN R HAS ALL THE LAUGHS OF BUENOS AIRES,” finished Diego.
“AND THEN WHAT?”
“THEN HE CAN DISTRIBUTE LAUGHTER. OR REMOVE IT,” said Diego. “HE CAN MAKE A WHOLE CITY LAUGH. OR CRY. OR BE SILENT.”
“THAT'S POWER!” said Lucas.
“NO," said Don Pedro. “THAT'S TYRANNY.”
Silence. The machine continued to pulse. Calm. Patient. As if it had all the time in the world.
“HOW DO WE DESTROY IT?” asked Lucas.
“NOT DESTROY,” said Don Pedro. “DEACTIVATE.”
“THAT'S THE SAME!”
“NO," said Don Pedro. “DESTROYING IS VIOLENCE. DEACTIVATING IS LIBERATION.”
“AND HOW?”
Don Pedro looked at the machine. “IT COLLECTS EMOTIONS. WHAT HAPPENS IF IT GETS SOMETHING IT CAN'T PROCESS?”
“LIKE WHAT?”
“SOMETHING THAT IS NOT AN EMOTION,” said Don Pedro. “SOMETHING THAT IS... THE OPPOSITE.”
“THE OPPOSITE OF LAUGHING IS CRYING,” said Isabella.
“NO," said Don Pedro. “THE OPPOSITE OF LAUGHING IS NOT CRYING. THE OPPOSITE OF LAUGHING IS NOTHING.”
“SILENCE?”
“YES," said Don Pedro. “SILENCE. IF YOU GIVE THE MACHINE SILENCE, IT CAN'T PROCESS IT.”
“WHY NOT?”
“BECAUSE SILENCE IS NOT AN EMOTION,” said Don Pedro. “IT IS ABSENCE. AND A MACHINE THAT COLLECTS EMOTIONS CAN DO NOTHING WITH ABSENCE.”
“THAT SOUNDS... LOGICAL,” said Lucas surprised.
“OF COURSE,” said Don Pedro. “SWITCHING TECHNIQUE.”
“I HATE YOU!”
“I KNOW.”
“BUT HOW DO YOU GIVE A MACHINE SILENCE?” asked Isabella.
Don Pedro sat down in front of the machine. He closed his eyes. His sombrero slipped forward. He pushed it back.
“BY BEING STILL,” he said. “REALLY STILL. NOT JUST QUIET. BUT STILL IN THE HEAD. STILL IN THE HEART. STILL IN EVERYTHING.”
“CAN YOU DO THAT?”
“I AM A JAGUAR,” said Don Pedro. “JAGUARS CAN BE STILL FOR HOURS. THAT IS OUR NATURE.”
“BUT YOU HAVE A CHIP!”
“THE CHIP MAKES ME SMARTER,” said Don Pedro. “BUT IT DOESN'T MAKE ME LOUDER.”
He placed his paw on the machine. Closed his eyes. And became still.
Really still.
No movement. No sound of breath. Nothing. As if he were a still image. A statue of fur and sombrero.
The machine reacted immediately. The pulsing became irregular. The screen flickered:
“Input detected. Type: unknown. Processing... Processing... ERROR.”
“IT WORKS!”, shouted Isabella.
“Error. Emotion not found. Type: Silence. Warning: System cannot process.”
The machine began to vibrate. Not loudly. But noticeably. Like a heart that stumbles.
“Warning. Overload. System function impaired. Recommendation: Shutdown.”
“KEEP GOING!”, shouted Lucas. “KEEP GOING!”
Don Pedro remained still. Completely still. His breath barely audible. His heart beating slowly – slower than ever before. He was a jaguar. And a jaguar could wait. Hours. Days. If necessary.
The machine vibrated stronger. Lights flickered. The screen showed:
“System error. Emotion input = 0. Processing impossible. Shutdown initiated.”
A loud hiss. The lights on the machine went out, one after another. The pulsing stopped. And then...
Silence.
Real silence. Not forced. Not controlled. But natural. Like after rain, when the world breathes.
Don Pedro opened his eyes. He took his paw off the machine. Then straightened his sombrero and said:
“Done.”
“THAT WAS...,” began Lucas.
“SILENCE,” said Don Pedro. “AND SILENCE IS STRONGER THAN LAUGHTER. BECAUSE LAUGHTER IS EMOTION. AND EMOTION CAN BE CONTROLLED. BUT SILENCE CANNOT.”
“THAT IS—” Lucas smiled. “THAT IS TRUE.”
“OF COURSE,” said Don Pedro. “I DON'T LIE. I JUST WEAR A SOMBRERO.”
Diego stared at the machine. It was dark. Dead. Silent. “THAT WAS... EASY.”
“NO,” said Don Pedro. “IT WAS EASY TO DO. BUT HARD TO UNDERSTAND.”
“AND THE PEOPLE UPSTAIRS?” asked Isabella. “THEY LAUGHED?”
“THEY WILL STOP,” said Don Pedro. “NOT IMMEDIATELY. BUT SOON. BECAUSE THE MACHINE NO LONGER FORCES THEM.”
“AND R?”
“R WILL KNOW,” said Don Pedro. “AND HE WILL REPLAN.”
“THEN WE MUST BE FAST,” said Lucas. “THE OTHER TOWERS—”
His phone vibrated. “MESSAGE FROM PATAWEB.”
“WHAT DOES IT SAY?”
“DR. CAMILA HAS REACHED MEXICO CITY. THE TOUCAN IS IN BOGOTÁ. AND...”
“AND?”
“THE TOWER IN LIMA IS ALREADY ACTIVE. 94 PERCENT.”
“94?!”, shouted Lucas. “THEN WE HAVE NO TIME!”
“NO,” said Don Pedro. “BUT WE HAVE A PLAN.”
“WHAT PLAN?”
“SILENCE,” said Don Pedro. “SILENCE AGAINST SCREAMING. SILENCE AGAINST LAUGHTER. SILENCE AGAINST TEARS. SILENCE AGAINST DREAMS. SILENCE AGAINST SILENCE.”
“SILENCE AGAINST SILENCE?”, repeated Isabella. “HOW?”
“IN MEXICO CITY,” said Don Pedro. “THERE R COLLECTS SILENCE. AND SILENCE AGAINST SILENCE IS...”
“WHAT?”
“LOUD,” said Don Pedro, smiling for the first time in days. “SILENCE AGAINST SILENCE IS LOUD.”
“THAT MAKES NO SENSE!”
“YES IT DOES,” said Don Pedro. “SWITCHING TECHNIQUE.”
“I HATE—”
“WE KNOW,” they all said. Even Diego. Even Princess (who hummed quietly, but that counted).
And deep beneath Buenos Aires, in a dead machine, a last screen briefly lit up. A message appeared – not from the machine. But from R:
“You stopped one tower. Four remain. But do you know what you really did? You saw my laugh collection. My tear collection belongs to you. But what about the silence? Silence belongs to no one. And that is its secret. – R”
The screen went dark.
And Don Pedro said quietly: “He is right. Silence belongs to no one. And that makes it so strong.”