FACE TO FACE

Someone has opened the door once again. It is only my calm nature
that keeps me clear of my own outbursts. It is the fourth person who
throws himself out of the hovercraft leaving the door open. It is
draught in here and my ears tingle again angrily; maybe I am quite
sensitive, as I have been told so many times but I never believed any
of it. They left me by myself. It is the fourth time when I close the
door grumbling.

I am tired. After seven hours of flight I am back to my king, the one
who writes, the one who writes even when he is pissing, the one who
writes all the time, the one I have never seen reading something else
but his own writing. It was my dream to enter the squadron of
hovercrafts of the mighty empire. It was fate or hazard - call you it
as you please, my achievement to get to the Master's nearby.

I am landing slowly. The embattled towers from the edge of the Father
Knot rise up out of the wheat fields and the ivy carpets clambering up
to the sky. Another transferor sneaks into the entrance to the Knot. I
follow it relaxed, my peep-hole up, being caressed by the light coming
in after rain through the oval control port-hole. The people from the
environmental control have started a new simulation under the Master's
window. I pass through the trees branches and I land near the entrance,
in the middle of a concert of crystalline trills. My palms are sweaty;
I have got a deaf pain in my chest and I sense a burden under my
forehead. I close the cockpit. A scent of dry grass floats in the air
and the wind blows gently.

I go up the stone stairs and I step on the first one-way rolls leading
to the sterilizing room. Under the pine scented steam jet I catch a
glimpse of the Master's face. I am supposed to meet him right after the
reception ceremony would have finished.

One of the sides of the dodecahedron slides and the steam rises up
towards the evacuation room.

The Master sits at his desk. He is writing. He lifts his eyes up of the
paper and he puts the marker down. For me this is a great honour. I
kneel. He stands up and I can feel his fingers clenching my elbow. It
is a friendly gesture.

"Stand up. What news are you bringing me?"

I can feel the coldness in the Master's voice. He was writing and I
interrupted him. Despite this, he had the great kindness to receive me.
He smiles and his tiny eyes below his tall forehead remind me the need
of concord and concern.

"Master, it is peace and quiet in the Tree", I tell him in a trembling
voice. "Not one single Leaf falls down. It is all right."

He nods sympathetically and takes me friendly by the elbow. His wide
smile strengthens my gratitude. If I ever have children, I will tell
them about this moment with great emotion.

"I am worried about the stability of the Tree. I appreciate your
promptitude. You are serving a noble cause."

He sees me to one door of his office. He keeps the same frank
smile.

I go out of the room of one of the most important people who have
guided my passage through time. In a few hours, in the interval of
maximum audience, the Global Information Office will present to the
whole Tree my reception at the residence of the Father Knot. I will be
one of the thirty people of the day, the ones who controlled Knots and
Leaves out of the entire arborescent structure, during a summer day,
and thus their most beautiful dream came true.

I am happy. I am not upset anymore. I did do something for the Tree,
even if I was back by myself. I do not have to wonder what the Tree
could do for me instead. Such nice words! Such a shining sun! It's
peaceful. And it feels good...

Translated by Ioana Bostan