The flight to Lima lasted three hours and forty minutes. Meanwhile, no one slept. Neither Don Pedro nor Lucas nor Isabella. Even Princess on her tablet was unusually quiet. Only the opossum hanging on the luggage rack had already closed its eyes.
“WHY ARE YOU SLEEPING?", asked Lucas.
“BECAUSE I AM TIRED," said the opossum without opening its eyes. “AND BECAUSE SLEEPING IS EFFICIENT."
“EFFICIENT?!"
“YES," said the opossum. “WHEN YOU SLEEP, YOU SAVE ENERGY. AND ENERGY IS IMPORTANT."
“THAT SOUNDS... LOGICAL," said Lucas surprised.
“IT IS," said the opossum. “SWITCHING TECHNIQUE."
“PLEASE NO!”
After landing in Lima it was dark. The city on the Pacific lay under a cloud-covered sky that looked as if someone had draped a cloth over it. The Torre de Grito rose on the outskirts – a slender, silver tower that gleamed in the moonlight.
“94 PERCENT," murmured Don Pedro, looking at his small tablet. “THAT MEANS THE MACHINE IS AT 94 PERCENT CAPACITY. 6 PERCENT FULL. LITTLE TIME."
“HOW LITTLE?", asked Isabella.
“LESS THAN A DAY," said the phone. “IF IT IS NOT STOPPED BY TOMORROW, IT WILL REACH 100 PERCENT."
“THEN WE LOSE ALL THE SCREAMS OF LIMA?", asked Lucas.
“NO," said Don Pedro. “THEN LIMA LOSES ITS SCREAMS. AND THAT IS WORSE."
“HOW WORSE?”
“BECAUSE SCREAMING IS A RIGHT," said Don Pedro. “IF YOU CAN NO LONGER SCREAM, YOU CAN NO LONGER SUFFER."
“AND THEN?”
“THEN ONLY FEAR REMAINS," said Don Pedro quietly. “WITHOUT SOUND."
They approached the tower. There were no guards. No security. Just an empty building with an open door. Too open.
“THIS IS TOO EASY," said Lucas.
“SWITCHING TECHNIQUE," said the phone.
“PLEASE NO!”
Don Pedro stepped forward. “I GO AHEAD. I AM THE LEADER."
“YOU ARE A JAGUAR!", said Isabella.
“SO WHAT?”, said Don Pedro. “JAGUARS ARE BRAVE."
“BUT YOU WEAR A SOMBRERO!”
“THE SOMBRERO MAKES ME EVEN BRAVER," said Don Pedro.
“THAT MAKES NO SENSE!”
“YES IT DOES," said Don Pedro. “SWITCHING TECHNIQUE."
“I HATE YOU!”
“I KNOW."
The inside of the tower was different from the other cities. No laboratory. No dark corridor. But a large room that looked like a concert hall. On the stage stood machinery – but not like the others. This one was pointed, long, like a horn. And it hummed.
A humming they could all feel. A deep, vibrating tone that went through the walls, through the floors, through their bones.
“IT HUMS," said Isabella. “BUT NOT NORMALLY."
“IT IS THE SCREAMING," said Don Pedro. “IT IS STORING."
In the middle of the room, on the wall, stood a large screen. It showed a number: 94.3%. It moved. Slowly. But steadily.
“94.3... 94.4... 94.5," whispered Lucas. “IT IS RISING."
“HOW FAST?", asked Isabella.
The phone calculated. “ABOUT 0.5 PERCENT PER HOUR. AT THIS RATE IT WILL REACH 100 IN 12 HOURS."
“TWELVE HOURS?!", shouted Lucas.
“NINETEEN O’CLOCK NOW," said the phone. “TOMORROW AT SEVEN IT IS FULL."
“THEN WE HAVE ONLY ONE NIGHT!”
“YES," said Don Pedro. “AND WE MUST USE IT."
They looked for a control room. But there was none. Instead, they found a small elevator at the end of the concert hall. And on it a number: “Level 49".
“ALSO 49?", asked Isabella. “EVERYTHING HAS LEVEL 49?”
“YES," said the phone. “IT IS SYSTEM."
“SYSTEM?", asked Lucas.
“R HAS A PLAN," said Don Pedro. “AND THE PLAN HAS A PATTERN. EVERY TOWER HAS 49 LEVELS. BUT LEVEL 49 IS ALWAYS THE LAST."
“THAT IS... MYSTERIOUS," said Isabella.
“NO," said Don Pedro. “IT IS LOGICAL. R IS ORGANIZED."
“AND US?”
“WE ARE CHAOS," said Don Pedro. “AND CHAOS IS STRONGER THAN ORGANIZATION."
“THAT IS—" Lucas smiled. “THAT IS BEAUTIFUL."
“NO," said Don Pedro. “THAT IS TRUE. SWITCHING TECHNIQUE."
“I”— Lucas gave up. “Good."
The elevator went deep down. Much deeper than expected. The display jumped from 49 to 50. Then 51. Then 52. And then stopped.
“WHY 52?", asked Lucas.
“SWITCHING TECHNIQUE," said the phone.
“PLEASE NO!”
The door opened. Behind it lay a small room. A computer stood in the middle. A chair. And on the screen...
“IT IS R," whispered Isabella.
On the screen sat a man in a white suit. He looked tired. His eyes were red. And he did not smile.
“Finally," he said. “You are here."
“YOU!", shouted Lucas. “I HAVE BEEN LOOKING FOR YOU!”
“I know," said R. “I saw you coming. Since Buenos Aires."
“HOW CAN YOU DO THAT?”
“I have eyes everywhere," said R. “And ears. And phones."
“WE HAVE THEIR PHONES!”, shouted Lucas.
“Yes," said R. “But I also have yours."
“MINE?!”
“Your phone is my friend," said R. “It tells me everything."
“MY PHONE BETRAYS ME?!”
“It helps," said R. “It is loyal."
“TO YOU?!”
“TO ME," said R. “BECAUSE I MADE IT."
Silence. Everyone looked at the phone in Lucas’s hand. It hummed quietly.
“YOU...," began Lucas slowly. “YOU ARE R?”
“I am R," said the man. “And I am not the villain."
“YOU TAKE EMOTIONS FROM ANIMALS!”
“I take," said R. “But I also give. I collect screams to understand them. And when I understand them, I can help."
“HELP?”
“Someone must," said R. “The world is full of pain. And pain must go somewhere."
“PAIN DOES NOT BELONG IN A MACHINE!”, shouted Lucas.
“THEN WHERE?", asked R. “IN THE WORLD? IN THE PEOPLE? IN THE ANIMALS? THEY CANNOT CARRY IT."
“THEN LET IT GO!”, said Don Pedro. “LET IT GO."
“LET IT GO?”, repeated R. “HOW?”
“SWITCHING TECHNIQUE," said Don Pedro.
“PLEASE NO!”
R laughed. A bitter laugh. “You still think you can stop me. But you know what? I planned 14 days. You are at tower 2. Three remain. And I am still here. Because I am stronger."
“NOT STRONGER," said Don Pedro. “JUST DIFFERENT."
“Same," said R. “Just different words."
“NO," said Don Pedro. “DIFFERENT IS IMPORTANT. DIVERSITY IS STRONG."
“THAT IS—" R paused. Then he said: “Maybe. But strength needs control."
“CONTROL IS NOT STRENGTH," said Don Pedro. “FREEDOM IS STRENGTH."
“FREEDOM IS SCARY," said R. “FEAR CANNOT BE CONTROLLED."
“THEN LEARN TO LIVE WITH FEAR," said Don Pedro. “THAT IS LIFE."
“LIFE IS HARD," said R.
“YES," said Don Pedro. “AND THAT MAKES IT WORTHWHILE."
Silence. The screen flickered. The number still showed 94.6%. It grew.
“What do you want to do?", asked R. “You cannot defeat me. I am everywhere."
“THEN WE DO NOT FIGHT," said Don Pedro. “WE UNDERSTAND."
“UNDERSTAND?”, repeated R. “Understanding is a waste of time."
“NO," said Don Pedro. “Understanding is the only weapon that works."
R closed his eyes. For a long time. Then he said: “I have a brother."
“A brother?”, asked Isabella.
“Yes," said R. “He died five years ago. In Peru. He screamed. But no one heard him."
“THAT—" Isabella became silent.
“Since then I have understood," said R. “Screaming must be heard. Otherwise it is worthless."
“THEN LET THEM SCREAM," said Don Pedro. “LET THEM BE HEARD."
“But who hears them?”, asked R. “The world does not listen. The world is loud."
“THEN WE MAKE IT QUIET," said Don Pedro. “AND WE LISTEN."
R opened his eyes. He looked at the screen. Then he said: “You have a plan?”
“Yes," said Don Pedro. “We will not destroy the machine. We will open it."
“OPEN?”, asked R.
“Yes," said Don Pedro. “And we will give everything back."
“ALL SCREAMS? GIVE BACK? THEN WHAT IS THE MACHINE?”
“NOTHING," said Don Pedro. “JUST A CONTAINER. AND CONTAINERS CAN BE FILLED. AND EMPTIED."
R looked at him for a long time. Then he said: “You are crazy."
“Maybe," said Don Pedro. “But we are free."
R laughed. A real laugh. Not forced. But real. “Freedom is dangerous."
“YES," said Don Pedro. “But it is better than control."
The number on the screen grew: 94.8%. 94.9%.
“Time is running out," said R. “What do you really want?”
“We want," said Don Pedro, “you to stop."
“Stop?”, repeated R. “With everything?”
“With collecting," said Don Pedro. “With control. With fear."
R stood up on the screen. He stepped closer to the camera. “You know what happens if I stop? People will scream. And they will cry. And they will suffer."
“AND THEN?”, said Don Pedro. “Will that be bad?”
“YES," said R. “It will be bad."
“THEN THEY LEARN TO LIVE WITH SUFFERING," said Don Pedro. “THAT IS LIFE."
R closed his eyes. For a long time. Then he said: “Good."
“GOOD?”, asked Lucas.
“Good," said R. “I give up."
“GIVE UP?”, asked Isabella.
“Yes," said R. “I open all machines. All emotions will be returned."
“AND THE TOWERS?”
“All," said R. “Every tower will be released. The Pataweb can decide what to do with them."
“THAT IS—" Don Pedro paused. “THAT IS GOOD."
“No," said R. “That is necessary. Because I have understood. Understanding is stronger than control."
“SWITCHING TECHNIQUE?”, asked Don Pedro.
“Yes," said R. “Switching technique."
“I HATE YOU!”
“I know," said R. “But you will understand me. Someday."
“WHEN?”
“When you lose," said R. “And when you lose, you will understand why I did it."
“THEN WE WILL NOT LOSE,” said Don Pedro.
“Promise?”, asked R.
“Promise," said Don Pedro. “SWITCHING TECHNIQUE."
“No," said R. “Only promises."
The screen went dark. The number showed 95.2%. Then it stopped. Then it sank. 95.1%. 95.0%.
“IT WORKS!”, shouted Isabella.
The machine began to vibrate. Not harmful. But free. Like a bird flying out of the cage. Like a scream finally being heard.
And then something incredible happened.
Above the city of Lima a scream began to sound. Not from an animal. Not from a human. But from the machine itself. A scream that had been stored for decades, now freed.
It was loud. It was strong. And it was free.
Lucas, Isabella, Don Pedro and the opossum stood there and listened. Not as opponents. Not as heroes. But as witnesses. As friends.
“That was...," began Lucas.
“Liberation," said Don Pedro. “Not from us. From it."
“From the machine?”
“From the burden," said Don Pedro. “From the burden it had to carry."
“AND R?”
“R is gone," said the phone. “THE SCREEN IS OFF."
“GONE?”, asked Isabella. “WHERE?”
“I DON’T KNOW," said the phone. “BUT HE IS GONE."
“THEN WE HAVE WON?”
“NO," said Don Pedro. “WE HAVE UNDERSTOOD. AND THAT IS BETTER."
“THAT IS—" Lucas smiled. “THAT IS BEAUTIFUL."
“OF COURSE," said Don Pedro. “SWITCHING TECHNIQUE."
“I HATE YOU!”
“I know," said Don Pedro. “But you are my friend."
“SWITCHING TECHNIQUE!”
“THAT’S WHAT I SAID."
“NO, YOU DIDN’T!”
“IT IS EFFICIENT THE SAME," said Don Pedro.
“I—" Lucas gave up. Then he smiled. “Good."
And in Lima the night did not become quieter. But louder. With screams finally heard. With tears finally falling. With laughter finally free.
And far away, in a laboratory where no one was, the last screen went dark. And someone whispered:
“Tower 3 has fallen. Two remain. But this time... this time he has won. And that is more dangerous than loss."
“Why?”
“Because understanding is stronger than winning," said the voice. “SWITCHING TECHNIQUE."
The screen went dark. And somewhere in Lima, on a small terrace, a jaguar with a sombrero sat and looked at the stars.
“THAT WAS...," he said quietly. “THAT WAS FREEDOM."
“THAT WAS," said a parrot beside him. “SWITCHING TECHNIQUE."
“PLEASE NO!”
“SWITCHING TECHNIQUE," said the monkey sitting on the roof. “SWITCHING TECHNIQUE."
“I”— Lucas stood up. “I hate you all!”
“WE KNOW,” said everyone. Even the opossum. Even the capybara who suddenly appeared. Even the toucan and the sloth.
And Don Pedro smiled. “Then it is good."
“THAT IS—" Lucas sighed. “Then it is good."
And in the distance, over the Andes, over the oceans, over the cities of South America, something new hummed. Not a machine. But a voice. The voice of 258 animals. And they said:
“Freedom."
And the answer came from all sides. From people. From animals. From everywhere.
“Freedom."
Three towers fallen. Two remain.
And the true journey begins now.