Babel Inc.

My friends, there is too much people.

I’m confident by now that all of you have assimilated our motto. It has been far too long since our Mother experienced peace. This is an outrage; Nature deserves a break. We have been working towards this increasingly pressing necessity for a long time, and our goal is finally within our reach.

It is now 22h02, which means that this is our second to last broadcast before midnight. I am pleased to say that the vast majority of you have met, and even surpassed, their expectations. Casualties are minimal: barely a thousand of us have given their lives for the cause today, which is exceptionally comforting. Rest assured that their sacrifices will be honoured duly.

Meanwhile, teams AAXF-14, BIJQ-7, and KLHY-49 are enjoying a safe and fruitful return home, placing us at the very edge of success. I just spoke with the head of the Canadian teams, and our last target is soon to be acquired, and our mission accomplished. To those whose tasks have been fulfilled: make yourselves comfortable, and celebrate; to those who are still active: I wish you the best of luck. I shall be back with you in an hour for the final report.

Thank you.

The conference room suddenly became quiet. Not quite content with his speech, Moloch rotated his chair to stare at the cityscape scintillating through the window, with his right arm resting on the table and the back of his head towards the others.

“You lied to them, didn’t you?” Asked Tenet with a smirk.

“Lied? No, ‘lied’ isn’t the word.” Next at the table was Gloria; she continued: “He merely suggested that we’re closer to success than we actually are…”

“Really, an embellishment?” Yet amused, Tenet’s expression became a little grimmer. “That’s what you’re going for?”

“How many have we reached? Millions?”

“Actually, we’re nearing 3 to the 13.”

“Meaning?”

“One and a half.” He opened the file in front of him. “1 594 323, to be exact. 324, if we pull it off.”

“So, even if we miss one, this is still an amazing accomplishment.”

“Not mathematically, it’s not.”

“Okay, but have you considered the possibility that others could come a lot earlier than we expect, others that may not have made it on the list?”

“Nah…” Tenet sat back in his chair, playing with the file before him. “We’ve covered all bases with more than enough margin to compensate for the unpredictability.”

“Really? And what’s the number of dailies, according to the U.N.?”

“Ha, our source is not—”

“Just… indulge me.”

“Okay. Around 385 000.”

“Right, those are the ones that are accounted for. But maybe there are some that even we don’t know about.”

“Have you spoken to her lately?” Tenet sighed.

“To whom?”

“Gaia.”

Tenet pointed at his boss with a thumb, never taking his eyes off Gloria. Her pale silence was a satisfying enough response. Moloch merely raised an eyebrow to indicate his curiosity.

“Oh, you’ve never met her…?” Tenet continued. “Don’t worry, she’s a very nice lady, I’m sure you’ll like her. She is our source, by the way. So tell me: what was your point, again?”

“Well…” The words were hard to push out of her mouth, but like a record being spinned in the middle of a song, Gloria cleared her throat and continued where she had been interrupted. “That… Nature has her own ways, but that doesn’t mean that we’ve failed.”

“Are you being serious? This is ridiculous. Why are you—why is she here?”

“She…” Rotating his chair again to face the table, Moloch finally intervened. “Is in charge of the party.”

Gloria gave her opponent a quick in-and-out slip of her tongue in the most childish and effective manner.

“As for the reliability of the information…” Moloch turned to Gloria. “I’m afraid it is none of your concern.”

The two underlings straightened their positions under the weight of their superior.

“Apologies for the rudeness,” added Moloch with a quick wave of his hand, after a pause. “I’m a little... tense, as you can imagine.”

“Of course,” said Tenet.

“388 429 people were born yesterday, and today’s count has already surpassed that. I’m not trying to control Nature, I’m listening to Her,” Moloch pointed a finger at Gloria, in the same way that one might reprimand either a dog or a child who just shat on the carpet, “and I assure you that our record is thorough… I’ve dedicated my life to this cause, and yet, as you so kindly pointed out…” he turned to Tenet, “if there is even one left—one—everything will be lost. Everything... Ha! How many times have I mentioned this since we’ve met? You must be quite tired of hearing it.”

“Not at all, sir,” answered Tenet. “This is a great cause, and we shall be forever grateful for—”

“Yes, yes, I know, the greater good, and what not…” Moloch went back to the window. “Any news coverage, yet?”

“None whatsoever, sir.” Answered Gloria.

“And the party?”

“All set. I’m happy to report that most of our wounded soldiers will be attending their respective lots’ parties. Unfortunately, some are just too weak to join, and will be watching from home.”

“Of course.”

“We just got a lead from your wife, sir…” said Manu, bursting in. No one in the room was in the least startled by her brusque arrival.

“And?” Asked Moloch impatiently.

She was still looking through her file for the picture. “The target was last spotted in a town called Trois-Rivières.” Manu pinned the face on the map between Montréal and Québec, the only dots in this province—at least on this map. “She was trying to board a cruise ship, but they wouldn’t allow her. They did try to help, but she disappeared almost instantly. How she managed to even get there unmonitored is a mystery to everyone.”

“Who’s she?” asked Tenet.

“I’m sorry, is your data improperly filed?” said Gloria with a smile.

“Oh, I know the numbers, but the names…”

“Enough…” coughed Moloch. “Which one is it?”

“Her name is Agnès Bélier. She was supposed to be in one of the neighbouring districts, but evidently managed to escape.”

“They let her go?”

“No, sir.” She said, a bit intimidated. “Actually, she wasn’t where she was supposed to be—where we knew she was going to be—when the team arrived. We still aren’t sure if it is our incompetence or her luck, but she must have seen them, or known they were coming, somehow…”

“How’s that even possible?” interjected Tenet.

“She does seem resourceful, however.” Manu decided to alleviate the empty question with a simple look at its perpetrator, and continued. “She didn’t contact any of her friends or use any of her possessions. Public and commercial transports gave us nothing, and given the timeline, she can’t be linked to any private one, either.”

“So how did she get to the city? On foot?” Tenet asked again.

“We think so, yes.”

“That’s impressive…” Added Gloria, rather nonchalantly.

Moloch gave the latter a look, as though the remark were inappropriate, but also seemingly amused by it. He went back to Manu: “Where is the team, now?”

“En route to the city as we speak. In fact…” Manu looked at her watch, “they should be there in less than 5 minutes.”

“Who else is available?”

“Sir, I’m sure—”

“Who else?”

“APFZ-31 is still at the Montréal head-quarters, getting ready for the party.” Gloria intervened with an acquiescent smile. “Army of 2.”

“And how far is that?”

“About half an hour,” answered Manu.

“Anyone closer?”

“No, sir.”

“Get the helicopter ready. I want them there too, as soon as possible.”

Manu stood up to leave with a nod.

“And Manu…” Moloch added, “no fuck-ups.”

“Consider it done, sir.”

She left, and the conference room became quiet again

Hhhh…

My friends, I know that many of you are aware of the history of this corporation. What you most likely do not know is how unflattering that story is… Our Mother has been talking to us for eons, our very distant ancestors even tried to spread the message, thousands of years ago, but only recently did we hear the screams…

I consider this a failure.

Of course, none of you should feel bad for this; as head of Babel, I take full responsibility for letting our Mother down. For 10 generations now, we have built this modest empire; 10 generations of plagues and disasters and tragedies and contagion, yet the ram keeps battering… Remarkable, isn’t it? More than 2 centuries of expanding false hopes and empty dreams and desires—shoot for the stars, they say, aim for the moon, sky's the limit—well, the arrow is about to come back down.

I must be honest, we have encountered a minor setback. Our last target, though heavily monitored, is still on the loose. Now, I do not want to insult you by feigning hope, so let me end with this: we have 2 teams onsite taking care of the situation. If I were you, I would lay back and enjoy the party, for the end is nigh. The final countdown has commenced, and we will see it through.

I’ll see you in less than an hour.

“That was grim…” Said Cain through his headset, not quite sure whether he was yelling or not.

Val looked at him in silence for a moment, then turned back to face the open side of the helicopter. “Yeah, well, better get used to it…” She said.

“Oh, I’m sorry, what stick have you got in your ass, tonight?”

She quickly exhaled her amusement, which was abruptly put to a halt by her next sentence. “Those towns are the worst…”

“What, you don’t like the view?”

“Fuck off! You know how it is: small towns; all know each other; can’t go anywhere, can’t do anything without everyone sticking their nose in your business; easy to find someone. Turn around, you’ve got the big cities; lot more ground to cover, yes, but cameras everywhere; nobody gives a shit about what happens to you; also, easy. But here… there’s not enough people to justify the infrastructure to spy on them, and yet, there’s so many of ‘em that there’s just no way to smell all the asses.”

“So?”

“So, we end up in this weird… ant-farm with too many queens, and now we have to kill them all just to know which one’s real.”

“Are you trying to be poetic, or did you drink too much ambro?”

“I don’t drink ambro, I drink mead.”

“That wasn’t the…” Unfortunately, Cain caught his partner’s smirk too late to avoid the pun. He turned his head, puffing like the good, frustrated ape that he was.

“Hold on, poxes, we’re going down!”

At the pilot’s words, they both chose a handle as they spiraled down towards what looked like someone lying on the ground.

“That’s not our target.” Val observed. “I thought we had another 200 meters to go? Who is that? ”

“One of ours, I’m afraid. There’s been a few complications since we departed. I’ve been instructed to retrieve this body ‘tussuite’. Cruise ship’s that way. You two are on foot.”

Cain debarked first to inspect the corpse briefly. Apart from a violent, and singularly fatal, blow to the head, the inert colleague displayed nothing that might have been presently useful to their quest. Still, lost in thought as if tortured by the awkwardness, Cain startled at the call of his partner:

“All right, let’s go sniff some asses!”

They started jogging towards their destination, as the fading sound of rotors progressively allowed them to converse.

“That’s concerning…” Val said without the slightest hint of concern in her voice.

“Blow to the head. You think she did it herself?”

“I’d be impressed if she did. I bet I could do it… in her condition… but I guess we’ll never know.”

“I mean… come on! She can’t really be on her own, can she?”

“You’re thinking backwards. What matters isn’t how she got here, but why?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, she’s obviously going somewhere, but where exactly? That’s a good question… What’s bugging me is that she doesn’t seem to be fleeing us, it’s like she knows the maze, and she’s trying to beat us to the exit.”

“You think she could be one of us?”

They both went silent for a moment, until they heard people shouting in the middle of the port, inebriated first by alcohol and who knows what else, and second, by the spectacle of a man lying on the ground, whom they had apparently beaten to death.

“Fuck you, osti!”

“Tiens, mon tabarnak!” The gang echoed, dancing around the catch.

“What happened here?” The team asked upon reaching them.

“Uh, I don’t know, this guy was trying rape this girl and—”

“He wasn’t trying to rape her, he was attacking her!”

“Is there a difference?”

“Of course, there’s a difference, you moron!”

“You—”

“Guys, guys, please…” Val intervened. “What happened?”

“Uh, we were just, you know, having a nice time, then this girl came in, saying, like, ‘Please, help me, someone’s following me…’, and I’m a gentlemen, so, you know, I told the guy to fuck off or it would end badly for him. Not a word! Not even a sound. Dickhead! The guy just pushed me and tried to grab her!”

“So you killed him…”

“We… we didn’t kill him!” Someone added in the background.

“Yes, you did.”

“What?”

“No—”

“We didn’t—”

“You mean—”

“Oh my god—”

“Oh no—”

As the panic grew within the group, Val turned to her partner.

“I know…” Cain answered. No words were necessary.

Prompted by the man’s unconscious gesture, made a minute ago whilst trying to display the woman that he had so graciously defended, the two partners we trying to infer her current position, and, or, likely destination: of the four available directions, one would have crossed their ingress; the next two were either facing the gang or over a fence through a construction site -- which would have been far too impractical even for their athletic constitution, let alone hers, and thus would have likely generated much more attention than the amount observable at this point -- and finally…

“Let me go!” they heard from a distance, weakly traveling through, over, and around the tunnel with a delayed echo too confusing for the usual in-brain triangulation.

Normally, their special kind of etiquette dictates that any team faced with such an imminent threat of riotous outburst should either call for the aptly called ‘firefighters’, or put the fire out themselves, but since no one else seemed to even register their presence anymore, Cain decided to prompt their departure.

“There…” he said, ponting at the port with his chin.

“I’ll take the tunnel, you take the side.”

The construction that they were outlining was intended to be most welcoming to ship workers and tourists debarking cruises, given that it was covered with images and paintings and friendly words in at least… six different languages that Val could see. During the day, when the city was awake, one should be delighted with the colours and textures and information placated all over the port, bringing it to life -- but when you close your eyes, the monsters come out. And so, during the night, instead of inviting joyful visitors, this place becomes the city’s sewer, populated with a tarp tent in every corner, and the periodically deafening combination of shouts and breaking glass and screeching tires.

Analysing the mural that her partner was attempting to swim through, Val noticed a lump of white clothes frantically moving in the distance, getting away from the tunnel towards a seemingly abandoned hangar.

A piercing whistle took Cain’s attention away from his current altercation. Following Val’s signal, he ploughed through the denizens, breaking jaws and cracking skulls with a very specific kind of violence, whose determination alone usually brings people to a halt. Needless to say that it sufficed to discourage the remaining obstacles all the way to the end of the tunnel, where the team reunited.

Jogging along the woman’s path, Cain spotted the clothes instantly.

“Doesn’t know that white is easy to spot at night?” He asked.

“Not sure…” Val chuckled. “But if she goes where I assume she’s going… then I don’t know what to think. I mean, why the hard work if you’re just going to hide in the closet anyway? Maybe I was wrong. Maybe she’s just a lucky idiot.”

“Why don’t we ask her?”

They were indeed getting closer and closer, to the point where they could even hear the heavy, exhausted breathing of their prey.

“Well… I guess the fun’s over.” Val said, genuinely disappointed.

They slowed their pace down to a trot, following the woman’s speed with just a slight advantage. When she collapsed, the two partners arrived and crouched by her side.

“Well, well, well. What have we here?” Val asked rhetorically, putting the woman on her back. “It seems like you can no longer run. Aww, I’m sure you’re gonna be fine.”

To the woman’s astonishment -- and one could even say ‘disgust’ -- Val’s voice sounded as though she were talking to a stupid child.

“Don’t worry,” Val continued, “you fought well, I’m sure the Valkyries will come for you. Now, if you don’t mind…”

As she was reaching for the knife on her belt, Cain grabbed his partner’s wrist in order to stop her momentarily.

“There is one thing I’d like to know,” he said, “before you go…” The woman looked perplexed. “How did you do it?”

“What…?” The woman asked in return.

“How did you know we were coming? How did you escape?”

“That’s more than one question.” Val added.

Cain raised the corner of his mouth ever so slightly to express his amusement. The woman spoke:

“What do you mean, how?! I don’t understand! I haven’t done anything wrong! You’re the one chasing me! Why are you doing this?!”

Cain looked at his companion with a sigh, then back at the woman.

“I’m going to ask you again,” Cain resumed, “and I would really appreciate it if you answered my question, this time.”

He said it so calmly, but also so violently that the woman understood his demand, and started pondering her words, telling her story.

“So that’s it?” Said Val bluntly when she was done. “You ‘felt the need to leave’? No deduction, no anonymous tip, no insider trading, just… intuition?”

The woman nodded in silence, unsure of what was expected of her.

“That was disappointing…” Said Cain. “But hey, you called it…”

Val stood up and sighed. “Shall we? I wanna be back in time for the party.”

It was at that moment that the woman, in a burst of hope, jumped on her feet and tried to limp away from the team, for her legs had not yet recovered enough to flee. Interred by the annoyed comments of her pursuers, Agnès made it only as far as a few meters before she collapsed again. Hopeless, helpless, the only thing that was left for her to do, she knew, was to find a good spot to lean against and watch, as the man and woman slowly came, knife in hand, and started cutting…

My friends; my dear friends.

It is only 2 minutes to midnight, and I am most pleased to announce that this operation, to which all of you were absolutely essential, is a success. Unfortunately, this victory was achieved at the cost of yet another vital part of this organization. APFZ-26 has fallen, however their sacrifice will be honored.

Also, without diminishing anyone’s accomplishment, special recognition must be given to APFZ-31 for stepping in and being the last executioner. Val; Cain: I want to thank you personally for making this vision and this dream possible. We are finally giving our Mother a moment’s rest.

Now, I would like all of you who are listening to join me for this hopefully traditional countdown. You should all be proud, for tomorrow no humans will be born.