A few Kilometers later, Viktor stopped. His lung was burning. Again he wished for mechanical legs. Behind him, the former golden statue of the Goldelse was staring into the nothing, having lost her head a few years ago, when a madman had wanted to make love with her, flying his self-built balloon next to her face. The police had handled him. And the explosion had handled the statue. No one had cared afterwards. Berlin was already mad and dying. Viktor…
Water hit him like a bomb in the back. It was cold. It stank like 30 years of bad climate. It felt more like slime than water. He now was under the water, in the black darkness of lightless nights. Probably not even sunlight was able to cut through the stuff, the old Spree-river was now made of. Up, up, he had to go up. Something hit him on his leg. Moved. Disappeared. Still going up, Viktor felt another movement…
A few Kilometers later, Viktor stopped. His lung was burning. Again he wished for mechanical legs. Behind him, the former golden statue of the Goldelse was staring into the nothing, having lost her head a few years ago, when a madman had wanted to make love with her, flying his self-built balloon next to her face. The police had handled him. And the explosion had handled the statue. No one had cared afterwards. Berlin was already mad and dying. Viktor…
“Du kommst zurück!” Jan hörte noch immer die Stimme seines Onkels. Sie hatte ihn nie verlassen, hatte ihn durch die Nächte begleitet, die er in Fort Fierce verbracht hatte, jenseits des Polarkreises. Dort hatte man versucht, ihm beizubringen, dass seine Erinnerungen falsch, seine Träume noch zweifelhafter, seine Schreie die dumpfen Eskalationen eines Kindes waren, dem man nicht genug Pudding auf sein Brioche gestrichen hatte. Doch er hatte es nie geglaubt, hatte nie seine Wunden verloren, die ihm seit jener Nacht…
Endlos zog sich das Meer aus glänzenden Dächern dahin, einige davon schon wieder sauber, wo andere noch vom Staub und Schmutz der Straße verdreckt waren. „Drei Stunden auf der A8, dann, soweit es passt, auf die …“ Weiter kam Mike nicht. Ein einsamer Helikopter raste heran und verschwand wieder in der Ferne. „Wo war ich stehengeblieben?“, fragte er. Unhörbare Worte zischten aus dem Bluetooth-Headset in sein Ohr. Er nickte, als ob jemand ihn beobachten würde. „Natürlich. Ich gehe davon aus,…
Darkness moved over and created patterns of light, orange, dirty orange and scratchmarks on the old windows. Berlin itself seemed to leave the realm of reality and became just a thought, less than a dream. The ropes shook and Viktor tried to see, how the inside of the box looked like. The gaps showed nothing more than a few bronze-painted walls and black flowery suits moving. As Viktor looked up, the tower shrunk, almost as if it would crush him…