I said I wanted to write from an ‘abusers’ point of view, right.
One seeking redemption, not even knowing.

Well, He still seems too ‘nice’ to me.
Don’t know what to do about that.
So, I fail.

Count this as a digression then.
Teaching me more about myself and my limitations.

===

==

=

The trappings of pride, and age.

I can feel my age within, churning, laughing as it teaches me my folly.
The last and first power is the same, death and birth.

When you are young you believe you own the world, as you die you find that the world owns you.
And your last question might just be, ‘what good was I.’

This is mine answer.

===

=

As I look back to my younger years, the world indeed was my oyster.

I had at an early age realized where the trappings of true power laid, in money and influence, and I worked hard and unrepentantly to collect as much as I could. And the powers that be seemed to take an unholy delight in my struggle, showing me their shortcuts and manipulations at every nook and corner. At that time, as I still was young, just growing into my true power, I never considered my self in terms of mortality or moral.

No, it was sheer necessity that drove me, my necessity for power. As I saw it we were all actors on a stage, most of us without a clue, but for those few lucky ones having a vision everything was possible. And yet, as I now stand before that last miracle, staring my death in the face, and as my last vestiges of pride and presumption are lifted from my eyes, showing me its ignescent smoldering truth, I can only but realize that it all was a lie.

The unbearable truth is that I was scared.

Looking out at the world we have today, not dying as worlds go, but changing into something hostile to us still breathing oxygen, I finally find myself having to face, by every laborious breath I take, where mine, and yours choices have brought us. What once was Australia will soon enough become a desert, not even Bushmen able to survive there if it becomes worse. The oceans emptying of its former life, jellyfish taking the place of those species that once swum there, the polar bears soon to be gone except those remaining in our zoos.

So much land flooded and so many people dying, worsening by each year. And as we stood there once, on that brink of destruction, choosing between our own carers and the ones of our kids, I was one of those making sure that you would choose the right one. As a director and major stockowner I found myself directly and personally threatened by the growing demands of those of you fearing what’s called Global Warming.
==

I learnt how to sell and buy souls at an early stage, having no problems with it. To me that was what life was about, and the sign saying ‘The one dying the richest wins’ made eminent sense to me. After all, I had sold my own too, several times, even going so far as doubting that I had had one to sell in the first place.

It is funny how subservient we are to power, there was no shortage of people ready to clean my boots in exchange for a promise or two. The real problem I had was finding the ones having enough courage to give me an independent evaluation, while still adhering to my ideals. Well, that was as I saw them. Ideals, shallow you say? No, not shallow at all, materialistic of course, but as I saw it guaranteeing you and, more importantly, me that continuance of stability and prosperity.

No, I was never into forcing people, and the simple truth was that I seldom needed too. There was already a surplus of people ready to gauge and fulfill my slightest wish, even before I knew it myself. And the way I traveled and lived made me well fortified against those not adapting to my principles, buffering me from their limitation of vision.

There was a great joy to be found in my ability to manipulate. Even when young I knew how to bend people to my wishes, making me money using sex as my first honey trap, that and drugs. It was all too easy once I learnt how. At the age of eighteen I was a well built guy a little over six feet, with a reputation for fixing really good parties, with everyone wanting to come.

When I saw someone I thought to suit my needs I made sure to invite them, and as I only choose younger kids it was easy to impress them. It’s a wonder what a little pill can do combined with some booze, they become like putty in my hands, and I never really needed to blackmail them either. I just sort of led them down the stairs, making sure to take it in easy seductive steps. And as they after a while lost their reluctance, leaving most to think that it was of their own free choice too.

Yes, I did take photos but without threatening them. On the other hand, them knowing of their existence were more than sufficient to keep them in line. And I only let them see the more innocent, telling them that the ‘real ones’ only was for my own eyes, it was fun to see them twitch and squirm as I said that. That one I had learnt that from reading about the Nazis. They used to let people disappear, coming for them at that time when you sleep your heaviest, and then just make them go up in smoke without a trace, yeah, like some cheap magican, I think they used to call it ‘night and fog’?

But it worked very well, keeping people scared and obedient. Like those guard at the stations of their death trains to Auschwitz, hanging people behind a screen, only allowing the prisoners to see their legs dance in the air. The threat becoming worse than the reality. The real fun was when I taught them to interact with each other, turning boys onto boys, girls onto girls and all mixes in between. After that it was easy to make them work for me, what limits they might have had before I had torn wide open, scattered to the winds.

I set it up as a ‘call girl service’ first, but as my business grew I diversified, I found that there were all strange sorts of twisted desires out there, and with the Internet helping me I had my shop open worldwide twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. No, I never turned out kids, not under fifteen at last. Not that I really cared, sex was sex and who was I to judge. It was more that the repercussions of it if going sour might become a little to final for me. But they were young enough for most tastes, those I had, making me shitloads of money if you will excuse my crude choice of words.

And I used the money wisely, I now had all sorts of contacts from all levels of society, it’s amazing how adaptive people become when they consider what can happen if they aren’t. Insider trades came my way frequently and the richer I got the more respectable people seemed to see me, and the easier it became to do business. That and that I never missed church, I went, timely as a clockwork, every Sunday, and always with that little extra for the collect, hell, if I had a better voice I would even had tried for the choir.

It was as a professor, guest lecturing, had explained, “As long as you attend church on Sunday nobody, and I do mean nobody, gives a shit what you do the other days’, that instant stamp of respectability smacked right on my forehead. But there was a fast turnover of personnel in my line of work, drugs and booze taking its tool of my employees, making them old before their time.

I got to admit that I had no health plan fixed for them, but then again, it was their own choice to do drugs, right? I didn’t force them. Still, I found ways to replace them, there were a lot of wayward youngsters needing that fast buck to survive, and I also became engaged in some light trading, especially from East Europe. As call services goes I like to think mine to have been a basically honest one, but I now think that it still maimed and, in some cases, killed the soul, not that I understood it then.

I know that I indirectly was responsible for at least three suicides that I knew of, destroying people’s life’s and innocence. But as I saw it, it was their own choice living and working as they did, and they did make a good living out of it. And if they had refused strongly enough I most probably would have let them go although I won’t swear to it as, to my surprise, none ever did.

As I look back at myself then I can only see a great emptiness hovering where my conscience should have been, maybe my craving for money and power blinded me? And remembering makes me wonder again what I was those days, an innocent too, in some strange twisted way lying to myself? Or just a cold blooded pragmatist, using my tools, disregarding their humanity. I only know that I didn’t see myself then as I do now. In a way we are very much what life make us, but, moulds are there to be broken, if you dare.

When I finally found the mob muscling in on my business I sold it to them, they were quite reasonable in their demands, with both sides treating it as a normal transaction. At that time I was already good for millions, and having invested them in companies like Microsoft and Apple quickly made my profit grow, exponentially. Going back to school I got myself a university degree in business administration, not that I needed it, but it created that extra layer of respectability making my ‘legend’, as they call it in the spy business, more or less watertight.

You would have had to research real good to find out anything about my former occupations after I was finished. From there I went to oil, oil and nature gas. I had gotten myself some real good East European contacts under the time I had my former business, and with Mikhail Gorbachev tearing down the communist walls and ideals, Russia was like the wild west, wide open for those of us with contacts and dollars.

So I and a Russian partner bought in on both oil and gas leases. And we made a ‘loot’ too. They gave industries away at that time, you just needed to know which hands to grease. As the times became more turbulent I found it for good to withdraw though, and sold it cheaply to my partner. Cheaply for him perhaps, but enough to place me amongst the filthy rich and best of all, having most of the money unknown to the IRS.

I invested those ‘shady’ money in all kinds of deals, buying and selling most everything that could turn a quick profit, from small arms to pornography, but always making sure that I had enough middlemen involved to keep my hands clean. And of course creating my own power company, you might have heard of us, ‘Global power Inc’? We’re still doing business and quite proud of it too, even though it now mostly is Alana’s problem handling it. And the best part was that I could invest my shady money in it, buying stock from all over the world with money untraceable by the IRS. I owned that company lock, stock and barrel.

At some point, if you have enough invested, it is very hard to stop making money. And so I found it to be in my case too, I had more than I ever could spend, and after a while I stopped counting. As a good deal of the money still was more or less shady I kept my profile low, never finding myself compared to the superrich for which I was very thankful, and so it was at that time it all finally went down.

You could say that what happened was the start of my awakening.
My rebirth into humanity as it were, as well as my simultaneous beginning to an end.
===

At the time my story starts I was at the tender age of forty. I had watched my money grow for over twenty years now and Global Warming had just started to become a major embarrassment for all power companies. Now, what we do when something becomes an embarrassment in the western civilization is not to kill those protesting. That is counterproductive and will only create you more enemies. No, what we use is disinformation, that and advertising of course. Never underestimate the raw power of advertising, when done right.

It was easy enough, more than those worried for the consequences of global warming were those worried for their livelihoods. It was amazingly simple giving them some numbers and misdirection’s to mouth. We set up several websites with engaged personnel spreading our gospel, fighting for what they saw as the good cause, keeping their plush jobs and salaries coming.

It’s an old adage that people believe what they want to believe, so it was not that hard, and after a while there were enough people believing it for free, making me hope that I might be able to finally take that break. I hadn’t had a vacation since primary school and I was starting to feel real tired, like a string stretched and tensed to its breaking limit. I was also getting quite bored with all the ass kissing that came with my new, more visual, position as a chairman of the board.

I know you think it sounds like a stupid move, but hell, at that point I was feed up with it all, and the company worked well enough without me. The decisions that needed to be taken could be made by me anyway, the board was mostly there as eye candy. And the decisions I could take over the Internet, from anywhere in the world. Yes, I had for the first time in my life fallen in love with something else than money, I had gone and bought myself a sailing boat.

It was built in England and had a very innovative solution on how to handle the sails, you used an electrical crank, cranking them in, sweeping them around a rotating mast. It was an incredibly efficient solution, making it possible for one man to handle a quite big ship. Yes, it worked and I had made sure that the electrical engines rotating it were over dimensioned too, with backups. And even if those too would fail you could still use the sails as you did in a ordinary sailing boat.

She was a little over eighty feet long, eighty two to be precise, with a spacious cabin twenty seven feet wide, fifty feet long, thirteen feet high. It was placed at the exact middle of the ship to minimize the swells of the sea, and she was so extremely seaworthy, and fast. I know, maybe I had came into that age where I wanted to fulfill my youths fantasies, but, as compared to yours, I could actually afford to make them come true. And yes, this boat I wanted for myself, with no plans on sharing it. It would be my castle of fortitude where I could be myself.

I had a state of the art satellite navigational system installed, powered by solar cells, and my radio and internet worked through the same link. I even had a small machine installed that could turn salt water into drinking water, powered by those same solar cells.

I had bought some very efficient water and wind turbines too, small ones with the blades cleverly hidden inside ‘wind tunnels’ that made her practically self efficient when it came to power. And my cabin was a real marvel of efficiency and good design, heck, the bed was better than the one I had in my home, and bigger too. And the kitchen? Good enough for me at last.

The boat was self steering through my navigational computer, through dead reckoning or GPS. Yep, I had some pretty god software there and hardware too. I could draw a course on the touch screen and the boat would steer it automatically if I wanted. With my radar connected to it, warning and correcting the course when obstacles came about, there was little chance of anything taking her by surprise. And yes, of course I had a backup, ready to take over instantly if something went wrong with my main computer.

Don’t get me started on all the devices and marvels I had put into that boat, it had been my baby for three years, rebuilt to my specifications at least two times. It was my jewel, my newborn, waiting for me in its cradle at Bristol. And of course it had a diesel engine too, fuel efficient and silent, also doubling as my electricity provider in case of needs. It was the best of all worlds to me, costing me well over a million to build, not that you could see it from the outside though. You might notice the solar cells inlaid everywhere over the boat, hiding under their protective coating, but that was all.
==

As I took ownership of it one early April morning, leaving the port, I felt as if chains were breaking around my chest. I don’t know why but I had started to act like a reclusive, not that I had had any illusions about my fellow men, not since I started generating money at least, but lately they had started to grate on my nerves more than ever. It had gone so far that every time I had to hold a board meeting I first had to fortify myself with liquid courage to meet them. I wasn’t a drinker normally but the last year I feared that I had started to become one, developing quite a taste for single malt.

As I came out on open water I laid out my course, I was planning to sail most of Europe, to finally steer for Barbados before the winter, but I didn’t really have any set plans. As I laid out the course to Norway, trying to avoid the main shipping lines, I could feel the taste of salt caressing my nose and mouth, listening to the lonely cries from seagulls circling above me, probably expecting me to be some sort of fishing boat.

There was something indescribably soothing with the soft up and downward movements of my ship as it danced itself on the waves acting as a balm for my tired nerves, revitalizing me. As I decided that I could take a break I went down to open my Islay malt. Sitting there, having a cup of coffee and a dram, watching the boat steer itself on my laptop, with a three hundred and sixty degrees vision through my small cameras I finally felt as if I could relax.

I really wanted to test out my navigational system to see if it would work as I thought, and I had let out some of my water turbines at the same time testing their efficiency. And surprisingly enough it all worked, better than I ever would have dreamt of. Normally even the best laid plans have some setbacks and failures, but this one worked from scratch, and made me feel immensely proud over my boat and myself.

As the night came I went to sleep, and knowing that I now was out of the main shipping lines, having the most restful night since I had created my company.
===

As I came up in the morning I checked my GPS and found that I had made good speed, the winds had blown in the right direction and it was only a matter of days before I would see Stavanger. I enjoyed an early breakfast of baked beans in tomato sauce with bacon, okay, so I’m no gastronome but it was good all the same. Some garlic to it and two eggs, both with the yellow side up. Yep, that was how I felt, sunny.

I connected to the internet to check my stocks but found no problems. I had moved most of my holdings to long time investments making sure to stay away from short time, high profit yields. Lately I had an uneasy feeling growing, that there might be more than what I first had thought in those cries for a reduction of our man made wastes and observing plastic bottles, and even bags, floating on the sea made me wonder anew.

I had changed most of my shady money into holdings in the really big mineral companies, feeling that their future was more or less secured any which way. I had also taken a new interest in precious metals. Never the less, even if I lost all of it I thought me to have enough stashed away to see me through the foreseeable future. As I came up on deck enjoying my first dram for the day I found myself totally alone in a sphere of green flecked in a metallic grey and lilac, meeting the blue sky at the horizon, not a soul in sight, no seagulls, nothing. I loved it.

I put on some slow blues on my sound system, hearing the tones drop as golden as the flowing nectar in my glass, one caressing my ears, the other my throat to finally explode in my stomach. ‘Oh yes, this is life’ I thought as I sat there looking out into infinity. After a while the sun started to warm me up and I went down to take of my fleece jacket, coming back up in only my wool shirt and jeans.

Intermittently I could see what I thought to be boats but always at a distance. As the day went to its end I got down again looking for what weather I would get. It seemed as if there was strong wind coming but as it was blowing in the direction I wanted to go anyway it just gave me a chance to test my software.

It would give me a chance to se how my system answered to stronger winds. I had created a software program in three levels, safe, moderate and wild. Yeah I liked that word and the program was mine too, bought and paid for in full. ‘Wild’ was when I wanted the most speed I thought the boat could take, well, safely that was and ‘moderate’ was in between. ‘Safe’ was when I wanted the boat to take it safe and easy, making as small leeway as possible.

So I decided to put it into ‘moderate’ impatiently waiting for the wind to build. I had to wait quite a bit for it but around midnight it started to blow. After a while I could hear the sails starting to wind themselves in. I decided to stay awake just to make sure but there was never any need for it. It went as smooth as silk and everything worked just right, with me nodding off around three in the morning.
==

As I at last arrived I was struck by the wild beauty of the Norwegian coast. It was incredibly beautiful and majestic with high ragged mountain peaks and calm fjords. I had planned to sail the coast downward to Sweden but as I saw the fjords I found that I had to make a detour into one of them. Deem of my surprise when I found whales blowing, it was my first sighting, and at first when I saw that plume of white water coming from their blowholes I worried that it was shallows I saw, perhaps with some geyser to it?

But realizing it was whales I went closer to look, getting my camera. As I saw the long spiral ivory tusk on one I realized that it was narwhales. Those horns were worth a small fortune in Asia and I was glad that there were no whalers around. It was kind of funny that reaction, just a year ago I would have started to count on the profit of catching them, perhaps even trying to tip a whaler of on the radio, haggling for some percentage, but as it was I just enjoyed the sight of them.

I took it slow sailing after the coast but after a few days I was inside Swedish waters. It wasn’t as majestic but nice enough as I slowly made my way to Gotland. I had always wanted to visit that Island hearing that it was one of the true Viking ports.

As I brought ‘Mine’ to port I soon found that Visby truly was all I’d read about. Shining incredibly white as I came in, looking very Mediterranean, with its glowingly blue water framing the old town exquisitely in the morning light. As I got off my ship I thought I could feel its age seeping through the cobblestones into myself, having those typical low old houses, as well as three and four stories one too, but all old. And those narrow winding cobblestone streets, imposingly proclaiming its heritage and former importance as a medieval Hanse city, trading all over the world, with a lot of naval history to it. It was quite breathtaking.

I spent three days there having a lot of fun, the Swedish beer though, I better warn you about that. Not that it was bad, but it was strong, one beer was like three American, I joke you not. If you don’t believe me you’re free to test it for yourself. Just go there and order a ‘stor stark’ and see where it takes you, me it took straight to sleep.

As I left I had planned to go to Stockholm to see the Vasa museum where they had that boat that sunk as it made it maiden voyage, not even getting out of the harbour. Incredibly bad seamanship if you ask me, well, that and no ballast making it lean to the side directly the first gust took its sails, but I changed my mind on that, why I don’t know. There were no portends and I had no mystical visions either, so I just don’t know.

I left late, around midnight, fortified by a few ‘stor stark’ not wanting to wait for the dawn. As I laid out my course I must have been somewhat inebriated as the next morning, me getting up, found me inside Estonian waters. That wasn’t as dangerous as it once was when the Russians ruled, but it was still the wrong direction for me. As I came up after correcting my course I thought I saw something floating, and naturally curious as I am, I changed my course slightly taking it of ‘automatic’ to ‘manual’ to see what it was.

I know, it sounds almost like a car doesn’t it, but that was the true strength of my system, making it possible for me to control my boat at all times. The weather had slowly started to change again, from being relatively windy to calm, and as I came closer I saw that it was some sort of inflatable mattress floating there. And as I came closer yet I realized that there was someone still lying on it.

I went up as close as I could winding in the sails and gliding up beside it I jumped in the water, having secured a thin but very strong line around my waist. You would be surprise how fast a boat can move even without sails, and the sight of it disappearing frankly scared the shit out of me, as well as the coldness of the water. As I got hold of the mattress I took it with me as I started to swim back. But I found that no matter how hard I swum the boat was moving faster dragging me with it.

At last I had to crawl up on the mattress holding the child, yes it was a child, against my body as I started to wind in the line roping it around me. I wished I had thought of an electric winch attached to it, and a button to press ‘IN’ but as it was it took me almost fifteen minutes until we were close enough to use the ladder. The only thing good with it was that the line now secured the child against my body, as I had winded it around both our bodies.

As I came down in the warmth of my cabin I freed her from the line and started to check for a pulse. She had been unconscious for the whole time and at first I thought that I had rescued a corpse. I got no life signs from her, no pulse at all, and it wasn’t until I held a mirror against her mouth that I saw the weak signs of moisture proving that she still breathed,

Remembering the old lessons learned by those rescuing sailors in the Atlantic under the war I decided to just put a blanket over her stomach, letting its warmth slowly spread the warmed blood through the rest of her body. She had a full set of clothes on her which made no sense, considering the mattress she had been floating on. I took of her wet dress and then went away to come back with a towel. After I had dried her I just sat there looking at her waiting and hoping. Yeah, the first signs of my downfall were already there.

I had put the boat back on ‘Automatic’ directly that I had come back, and as I sat there waiting ‘Mine’ was once more steering towards free water. As I checked for her pulse somewhat later she had at last gotten a very slow beat, thirty beats a minute as I counted, with her blue lips indicating that she had severe difficulties getting her oxygen. I had bought a rather excessive first aid box, with a lot of extra equipment, and amongst them a smaller variant of an oxygen tube, similar to those the lifeguards have to be able to dive for longer stretches in rescue operations underwater.

I took it to her, opening it, and as the oxygen started to flow I put it close to her mouth hoping it would make it easier for her to breath, I don’t know when I fell asleep but it was her crying that woke me up. As I turned on the cabin light I found her there, still unconscious, but crying in her sleep. I didn’t know what to do. I checked her lips and they looked okay to me, and the temperature seemed more normal but with her breathing coming fast and shallow.

But taking her temperature I realized that she had a fever and also I could see that she was dehydrated so I got her some orange juice and a straw. I put the blanket over her again and then started to drop down the juice in her mouth using the straw. After a while her swallowing reflex started to function and she started to swallow a little.

She seemed semiconscious now, only partly aware of her surrounding with her eyes still closed, but as I sat her up in the bed I succeeded to get her to drink the glass, and as she started to shake and cry again I swept her in the blanket and laid myself beside her, putting one more over us both. Then I remembered the boat and had to run up to double check the course. But ‘Mine’ was behaving as she should, and to be absolutely sure I decided to put her on ‘Safe’, increasing the radar range to get as early a warning that I could, just in case. Yeah, I felt jinxed, this was something totally outside my experience.

As I went down again I laid myself beside her with the extra blanket over us both cradling her little body in my arms. And I was scared, for the first time in my life I found myself caring for someone else than myself. And I didn’t like it a bit, frankly it scared the shit out of me knowing that she might die in my arms. I know, had I thought a little straighter I would have contacted the Swedish or Estonian authorities and they would have sent a helicopter or something, but as it was I didn’t think at all.

Maybe it had a little to do with me too. I never had had that much trust in authorities, just about as much as they had in me, and somehow Estonia only made me think of ships sinking and gulags. As I realized where my errant imagination had brought me I decided that if she made the night I would go in to Copenhagen and try to leave her at a hospital, explaining her story in a nice letter, and then run as hell, hopefully escaping before the cops arrived, although it had been a long time since I did that kind of stuff. And if she didn’t? Well, to be honest, I didn’t even want to think about that one.
==

=

Her fever broke at daybreak and she woke up. I hadn’t been able to sleep a blink the whole night and I was all bleary and redeyed as she opened her eyes for the first time. They were a cornflower blue and as she saw me she started to cry again. I tried to calm her as best I could but it didn’t help much.

It was first as I started too make food that her crying slowly subsided. I made what I normally used to make for breakfast, white beans and bacon with eggs and some fried onion. I cut up her portion to take it to her and as I sat down at her side I gave her the bowl. She looked at it and at the spoon I had given her but didn’t touch it. Smiling at her I dipped my finger in her bowl tasting the beans.

“Yum yum.” I said trying to sound as if it was the nicest food I ever had tasted. After a while she gave me a tentative smile and copied my move. Tasting it she seemed to get hungry and gingerly taking the spoon she started to eat. After finishing the bowl and a glass of milk, yeah, I really liked the Swedish milk, don’t let anyone tell you that it is bad. It was the best tasting milk I had drunk in a long time, so I had bought up on it, even trying to freeze it. Of course I had fridge, if you would have spent a cool million on a boat, wouldn’t you too have had a fridge installed?

So there I was looking at her as she felt asleep again. She had a only her panties and a dirty linen on her and both looked, and smelled, terrible by now, so thinking some more I got it of her. And after really overheating my brain cells I forced myself to get some warm water and a sponge, cleaning her up as good as I could. Finishing it all with toweling her, well, more like patting her dry really, she looked too delicate for any rougher treatment and, after finally sweeping her into a new blanket, I then took her clothes over to the washing machine.

Why shouldn’t I have a washing machine?

Didn’t I just tell you I’d spent over a million on it, and no washing machine? You’re probably thinking of the stone age, I mean come on buster, it’s no canoe we’re sailing here? And yes, it operates on sweet water, ever tried to wash your clothes in the ocean? Firing up the washing machine I at last could sit down, I was quite tired again, thinking that I just wanted to rest my eyes a little I fell soundly asleep in my reclining chair.

When I woke up the next time I did feel relieved of my tiredness but as I realized that I also was relieved of the day, with the next day almost gone I did feel kind of depressed. We had passed Copenhagen long ago. And when I finally got up to checking my ‘Nav’, I saw that I had it set on ‘Wild’ instead of ‘Safe’. Don’t ask me how it had happened, somehow it felt like a cosmic conspiracy hiding, laughing hysterically behind my back as it studied my face.

This time she didn’t seem as scared as she woke up, but as she realized that she didn’t have any clothes she became all red and shiny. I tried to smile reassuringly but I wasn’t really in the mood for any niceties. Here I was, in the middle of the Atlantic with a strong wind pushing me relentlessly, far further than I had expected, and if I turned around, knowing that all my explanations just would incriminate me more. After all, it was almost as if I had started to doubt it myself, a life guard I was not.

And if they contacted the police in my hometown I knew that sooner or later they would get rumors about my earlier occupation. And that would be the sickest joke of them all, to stand accused of child abuse when I just had done my damned best to save her. It made me wonder why I had saved her too, what if I just had stayed in the darned cabin a little longer? But it wasn’t really her fault, was it, and as the venerable masters say, when in doubt eat ice cream, yeah, I think it’s Chinese?

So that was what we did. ‘Mine’ was behaving perfectly, yes, that’s the name. I baptized her ‘Mine’ because she was, ‘mine’ I mean. If I ever got a second one I just might call it ‘Mine Too’. As we shared the ice cream I took a closer look. She was cute, around ten years old, with those strikingly blue eyes, and freckles.

Heck, she looked as lifted from a commercial for some wholesome whole-wheat product, if you know what I mean. And seeing the ice-cream made her light up a little, which somehow made me smile too. I pointed at myself and said ‘Edgar’ and then I pointed at her. She nodded and tried my name, and after a few tries she got it almost right, I pointed at her again and waited.

“Alana.”

Okay, so I knew her name at last, I got an idea. After all, I had Goggle and on Goggle I had ‘FoxLingo’ the automatic online translation tool. Finding her a new T-shirt I helped her in it, but she was shy so she did it under the blanket, giving me my first genuine laugh that morning as she came out of it with the T-shirt inside out, but seeing her hurt look I decided to correct that another time, gently lifting her up in my lap instead. Putting her in front of my computer I wrote.

‘Hi Alena, my name is Edgar’ and then translated it into Estonian.

As I noticed that she didn’t seem to understand it I tried Russian instead.
Seeing my message this time she nodded enthusiastically and started to jabber away. I wrote.

‘Alana this one only work when you write, can you write me what happened?’

She looked at my keyboard and shook her head, trying to understand what she meant I realized that she was used to the Cyrillic alphabet, not the western one, so I lifted up the virtual keyboard on the touch screen and set it on Cyrillic. As I showed her that she could press the buttons just by touching on the screen she looked very impressed, and soon she started to write. And as the story unfolded I felt sorry for her. It was a true tragedy.
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‘Hi, Edary my name is Alana. I’m Estonia but I’m Russia. Mom works a house. They no nice and when she sick sent her a home. Estonia people don’t like me we don’t belong. My mom sick a lot and a car took her she not move and took me I run away. I came back to save doll with my door locked and landlady said mom dead, She said me go a house to work, she said me mom owned lots money and me go work I run away I want leave Estonia so I want see boat, I only found plastic and now I don’t know more’

As I looked down at her again she tried to smile at the same time as her tears started to run again. Do all girls cry that much? Suddenly I decided that I would keep her. Yeah I know, why not get a cat instead, or a dog. If I got a canary it would sing right, or was that a nightingale? Before or after they stuck out its eyes? so what, my memory for trivia is miserable. Ask me about the stock results instead.

But hell, we were in the middle of an ocean here, Or, did you mean her feminine charms, like with me being in the same business and all. Well, you’re plain wrong there, not any longer and as I said, sex is sex but ten is a little too young for me. I prefer them when they can pay for themselves, and me. And also, I mean, what is it they can do that my right hand can’t do just as good? Hell, I could even take it out on a double date if I used both.

After all, I’m a natural born economic, how else would I get rich? So, give me the benefit of a doubt here buster, for once I thought that my motives almost was altruistic. I mean, it was either that, drown her, or strand her on some beach, hoping someone would take pity on her.

And the funny thing was that I didn’t trust those finding her, she was just too cute. I had made a mental game of it, trying to consider who would pay me most for her, but all it gave me was this headache and an empty feeling in my stomach. Yeah, I didn’t like it either. It was increasingly disturbing finding that I had qualms about her destiny.

Just one more of those new strange things that made no sense.
So I sorted it under the sign stating ‘unsolved mysteries, Marie Celeste, castaways, and others.’
You know, the drawer just over your left eyebrow, slightly behind the frontal lobe.

She deserved something, I didn’t know what, but it made a strong imprint in my mind, imagining this little slip of a girl getting up on that mattress in the dark, all alone, paddling out to sea. I know, I wasn’t particularly sane thinking there, but heck, I doubted that I ever had been that sane. I was good on certain things, but so was Rainman? Manipulating was my forte, not empathy. I wrote.

‘You stay Alana. Your Mom will like that.’

“If she‘s mad enough” I muttered. “Or dead.” Which she apparently was.

Don’t know why I wrote that last, it made no sense to me and maybe it did more harm than good as she started to cry reading it. I would be the first to admit that I’m not that good with kids, they are unpredictable and impulsive, I prefer people that remember what you tell them, that makes sense when they talk.

But I smiled at her and put her gently up in the chair, going up to a Russian site for children where they could dress a doll interactively, making it say Mama or whatever a Russian doll says, vodka? Or was that the Swedish one? She soon enough got the hang of it though, and as she seemed occupied I took the chance to make us some dinner.
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I have to admit that I got used to have her beside me. She was a welcome distraction in the mornings and after the first week we had already gotten ourselves a routine, I let her use the bathroom first, and after she had brushed her teeth it was my turn. As I came out I more often than not found her in front of the computer playing with those dolls.

I had decided to sail back to the States first, she needed documentation and that I knew where to find, I had had some experience with it before. Also I was a citizen and a pretty rich one at that. Money talks, bullshit walks, right. So maybe I could do it legally too? And without really understanding how this had happened I seemed to have adopted her, I just didn’t seem like me any more.

I knew what I wanted to do, I wanted to buy her some clothes. But I didn’t really knew what a girl at her age needed. But I had my old Russian companion, we had split as friends and he had a large contact net. Using Pretty good Privacy with a 2056 bit private key solve most of your privacy problems but just to be sure I only spoke about it in general terms. I guessed he too would feel her plight, after all they were compatriots of a kind.

Instead I got an offer of him buying her, it seemed as some of his contacts, over there, had a constant need for young ones, it surprised me a little but after all the man only meant business, right? All the same it pissed me of and as I wrote back I made it clear that she was mine and that I hoped for a better answer.

As he answered he instead wanted to secure an option on her, payable in gold, after I was finished with her of course. I’m afraid that I lost it there and then. I won’t tell you what I wrote but I think that what friendship we had ended then and there.

So I was back to square one, not knowing where to turn. This kind of problems wasn’t my field. Then I got a brainstorm, it’s fantastic how a single malt or two can lubricate the brain cells. I had a house in Berkeley, California and I had already decided to take ‘Mine’ and Alana there. California has a lot of weirdoes and she and I would just be two more.

Also they had some of the best freelance hackers I knew of, and I was in dire need of their services. So what did I do you ask? Well, I started to look for a Russian speaking nanny. As I searched the net I found one I thought sounded interesting. She was nineteen, of Russian parents, and sounded like a nice and friendly young girl.

As I said I liked them to be able to pay for themselves and nineteen, well, let’s just say that it got my imagination churning. I sent her an e-mail asking for a number to call, telling her that I expected her to meet me as soon as I got into harbor. I also wrote a confidentiality agreement that I explained that I expected her to follow. After two day she wrote me back to tell me that she was interested, promising to come as fast as she could after my call.

I was in luck as I came in, no customs in sight, and as I anchored up at my buoy only the night guard was there, he recognized me from last year and we chatted a little, me telling him that I was taking my new boat for a spin around the coast. I think he believed me, and I hoped it would take the edge of any undue curiosity too, especially as he thought that ‘Mine’ was an American boat.

As she came I found her amazing, she was a petite raven haired beauty, more reminding me of an Irish heritage than a Russian, and her jade green eyes sent an electric shock through my whole system as she coolly studied me. I couldn’t help it, I immediately started to calculate how much money she would be able to draw in for me, well, I am a businessman, not a gigolo, okay, maybe a little of both.

But it was with her as with Alana. That headache starting to grow and the stomach pain kept coming as punctual as a letter on the mail. I poured up a fair amount of golden release, and heaving it in one sweep I decided to treat her same as Alana, at least until I got her real numbers pushed.

So we sat down to chat, Alana was sitting playing with her Russian dolls as I started to explain my problem to Annapurna. I mean, it was useless lying, she would learn as fast as she started to speak with her new protégé and future ward, yes, I was staring to have plans for her. As I told her what I knew she listened, her mouth open in surprise.

I went very lightly around the immigration problems only explaining that I expected to have it solved in a fortnight but asking for her discretion in the mean time. She seemed to know about the hardship of the Russian speaking part of Estonia, which made it easier for me to explain my and my new ‘foster daughters’ plight. As I finished she sat there studying me, her hands in her lap.

“Mr Andersen. I’ve made some research too, you are known to the Russian immigrants, even if obscurely. You seem to be telling the truth here, but I won’t know before you let me talk with Alana. Will you let me do that?”

“Naturally, as soon as you sign our confidentiality agreement.”

She signed it and then went over to Alana discussing something in a rapid Russian, apparently it was about the dolls. They seemed to bond immediately, My Social Quotient may be less than normal but there is nothing wrong with my IQ and when it comes to manipulating, well, that property I have honed over twenty years now.

I’m a black belt there, one of the true masters of my trade. And I could recognize a successful resolution when I saw it. As Anna, as I will call her hereafter, lifted Alana to her, holding her, and whispering in her ear as she cried, I knew that I had found my new mentor. As she came back carrying Alana I smiled.

“Anna, are you satisfied with the stipulations?”

“Yes, they will do for now.”

“Good, if it works out, as I hope and expect, you will find yourself having a long and secure position in my household, with a yearly bonus based on my evaluation and discretion.”

“Mr. Andersen, I plan to study too.”

“No problem, I will arrange it to your satisfaction, as long you allow Alana and me to be a part of your life.”

As I heard myself speak there was a part of me screaming, telling me that I was selling out all I was. Exchanging strength for weakness, opening myself for others, and for Gods sake, trusting? A nineteen year old, on her word? But that treacherous mouth of mine kept on talking.

“I have a very good feeling about this Anna. Your first priority will be to get her something fitting for a girl of her age, ah, how old is she by the way?”

“Ten.”

“Good, I was right then.” I muttered, forgetting that she could hear me.

As she left she promised to be here at dawn, me arranging for a car to stand to her disposition.

“No Anna, you’re precious to Alana now, we will not allow anything to happen to you. This car is yours until I’ve arranged for a suitable rental, just tell the driver at what time you want him to be there. You do have a driving license Anna?”

“Yes, I have, but what will I do with my scooter?”

“I’ll take care of it, do you have any preferences when it comes to a car?

“An automatic would be nice.”

“No stick shifts for you then, good. Get some sleep now Anna.”

As the car took her away, I stood there watching as the car drove of, wondering what was happening with me. First Alana and now Anna, two women that somehow had touched me in ways I couldn’t find words for.

As I stood there, watching the backlights disappear, seeing the marina glow in all its colors weakly reflected in the still mat black water, I couldn’t help wonder if this night had been a magical one, I already knew that it had been a scary one.

Suddenly I felt as if a cold wind caressed my spine, flowing through it, all the way to the crown of my head leaving me emptied of feelings. And then I just wanted to close the door on it all.

But as I came in and saw Alana play with her virtual dolls, I felt as if it all was worth it again. And when we went to bed she gave me that big hug, caressing my face for the first time, which forced me to turn around, crying silently, the first time I can remember.

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