The Slave. Luigi Passarelli

was not exactly surprised at the fact that the two of them had not spoken to each other for five years.

      In any case, it reassured him. He thought about how he could triple his credits. It would need tactics.

      The two of them walked along in silence, crestfallen, each with his own thoughts being probed by the microchip.

      Ivano was thinking about when he went to visit his grandfather at the retirement home. His grandfather had fought in the last war. He was posted at a missile silo. He had seen a little of the world, even if it was mainly through the servers and satellite scanners, the little that he was allowed to see anyway. That one time he visited his grandfather, he had hardly told him anything, but he had wanted to know everything. The war had taught him that a sunrise and a sunset can look the same through pained and experienced eyes. He had now become convinced that there was no realistic way to enjoy life. Too much input on either a microscopic or a macroscopic level can affect our conscience. And the strongest factors, which are the ones which affect us for ever, are always the negative ones. There was no getting away from it. Don't fool yourself Ivano, don't fool yourself, you won't make it either.

      Anyway, the memory of his grandfather was interrupted when he received a message on his mobile: activity not allowed!

      Already! They had now arrived in front of their destination. They both smiled and said that it was strange that they had never noticed it before. It was only now that they realised that this cube which had no real windows, only virtual ones was a Container. The friend said that he had walked past it several times without even realising it. They both felt pride in their chests. They wanted to go up to the entrance, hoping that it would be open. They were disappointed.

      There was a three metre tiled garden around the building along with a slightly larger space in front of the entrance which had two staircases.