My phone alarm has not rung yet. I woke up, but I am somewhere between opening my eyes and not opening them. I try to guess the time. I say 5:48 in my head. A habit that is useless but that I like.
Without opening my eyes, I reach for the phone. When I turn on the screen, I see that the time is 6:24. I know that waking up at 7 would be enough, but once I wake up, going back to sleep has always felt like torture to me.
I sit on the edge of the bed. When my feet touch the floor, a cold feeling comes. This cold both wakes me up and makes me stand up without letting me think. I go to the bathroom and turn on the hot water. While waiting for the water to heat up, I look at the mirror. Under my eyes is swollen.
When I see that the water has heated up, I enter the shower. The water is too hot, but it feels good. My shoulders relax and the hot water hits my back like a massage. I get out of the shower and at that moment my 7 o'clock alarm rings. I turn it off and go to the kitchen.
I boil water and make a coffee. I light a cigarette and watch down from the window.
The streets of Chicago are noisy, gray and crowded. Traffic flows, people are in a hurry. Everyone is trying to get somewhere. After smoking another cigarette, I put on my suit. I see a stain on my sleeve and try to clean it with a wet wipe. Fortunately it goes away because all the others are at the dry cleaner. I hang my entrance card around my neck and leave the house.
The elevator is broken again. While going down the stairs I hear the building manager Mr. Johnson shouting at someone on the phone.
"This is the second time it broke this week. Because you idiots are not doing your job properly I am about to lose mine."
The shouting continues but I do not even listen. I guess they are putting too much pressure on the man. But I cannot say that I know any of my neighbors anyway. I get into the car and set off.
It is 7:45. I arrive early. While swiping my FBI ID and passing through the squeaking turnstile, I see Emily. Every morning she is at her desk before me.
"Good morning," she says and smiles.
She is a very beautiful woman but lately I am not in a state to think about a relationship. I say good morning to her and head to the cafeteria. I get a ham sandwich and go to my desk.
It is 7:58. I sit at my computer and enter my password.
8698.
The perpetrators of the explosion that happened at the harbor two nights ago still have not been found. I examine the phones of the suspects and the cameras. In one of the images I see that something momentarily falls from the pocket of someone on a motorcycle. I stop it and enlarge the image on the screen. I use artificial intelligence to increase the pixels of the image.
Since the damn computer is very slow, I eat my sandwich meanwhile.
The image appears and I see that what fell is a phone. I send my manager Mark Martin the image together with an information text and before three minutes pass he calls me and asks me to come to his room.
When I enter his room, a heavy perfume smell mixed with the vanilla smell that his secretary Susan sprayed into the room comes. As I get closer to Martin I realize that it is his perfume. It is obvious that his wife bought this perfume for him because I do not think any person would buy such a perfume by their own choice.
His wife is a good woman and after Martin was caught cheating last year he cannot say no to any request of his wife.
Even though I think the bastard deserved it, I also like Martin. As long as a big mistake is not made he does not act like a boss.
He points to the computer and tells me to explain.
I say that the motorcycles entering from the south side spent 15 minutes in the blind spot — which is also the point where the bomb exploded — and after that two of the four motorcycles exited again from the south gate, and that the passenger on the second motorcycle dropped his phone. I also say that the other two motorcycles exited from the west gate.
"Do you think it is still there?" he says.
"I do not think they are brave enough to return," I say.
"Still, there is only one way to learn." He points to the phone in my hand and says, "Call Wilson. Let him go with David and check."
Great. Now I have to talk on the phone with that son of a bitch Wilson. If I saw him burning in a building I would not give him a drop of water.
"Yes sir," I say and leave the room.
I call Wilson and tell him to go to the scene with David and that they can find a phone between the blue container at the south gate and the red container next to it.
The son of a bitch hangs up without answering.
I hate those bastards who think they are more important than everyone else just because they walk outside with guns on their belts. I remember the days when I was in the field and for a moment I drift away. I never acted like idiots like these.
At that moment I realize that George, who sits five steps away from me, has called me for the third time and I return to reality.
"Where did you drift off to?" he asks.
"I was on the phone with Wilson just now," I say and he immediately understands.
"Do not let that bastard get into your head," he says. "His attitude will fade soon anyway."
Even though I do not understand what he means I pass it by approving.
"Did you watch the game yesterday?" he asks.
"Was there a game yesterday?" I say. I guess I do not have much to do with sports anymore.
"How about pulling yourself together a little? You could start with Emily," he says and laughs.
"You know that I do not feel ready," I say. George is my closest friend. I cannot say that I have many friends anyway.
"Come on," he says. "It has been four years since Lily died and she would not want you to live like this."
I know he is right but I just do not feel it. Like I have said for the last 1.5 years, I say, "I will get better soon," and stand up.
"I am going to get coffee. Do you want anything?" I ask and he says he does not.
I get my coffee and go to the smoking area. I light my cigarette and a message comes to my phone from Wilson.
"We found the phone but the screen is broken and it does not turn on. I sent it to the technical team. Stay tuned."
Stay tuned.
I get angry and my cigarette falls from my hand. While trying to catch it I spill my coffee as well, but luckily it does not spill on me. Like George said, I try not to think about that bastard and light a new cigarette.
I go back to the office and continue working. In the afternoon I call the technical team and ask if they reached any information, but they say that I have to wait until tomorrow morning.
After giving information to Martin in his office I go back to my desk and pack up. George asks if we should eat outside but I pass it by saying I have work. I do not like being outside on weekdays very much.
I get into my car, turn on Eminem – Lose Yourself, and start driving home. On the way I stop at a pizza place and buy a mixed pizza without mushrooms and go home.
I take a beer and sit on the couch and tear off the top lid of the pizza box to use the bottom part as a plate.
I turn on the television and listen to the news while eating my pizza.
Christiane Amanpour is speaking:
"Thanks to the new invention of the company called Helix, autonomous robots will soon be indistinguishable from a human. The robots that have started production are said to begin testing soon. This leaves a question in our minds: will robots take our jobs?"