Original subtitles

SOMEWHERE IN SOUTH AMERICA

SOMETIME IN THE 80S.

THE UNIVERSE IS IN THE NIGHT. NERVAL.

So.

We have five female secret agents in the middle of a mission.

The plan was simple.

Break into a country house packed with guards

without being seen or heard

and get a guy the others kept locked up in there.

The idea was that four of them would go in.

The fifth one would wait in a nearby road,

with the transport, watching out that nothing happened.

At one point, at a given time,

the women inside and the one outside had to communicate.

The countersign was three gunshots into the air.

If the ones inside did not fire three times,

the one outside had to ditch them and disappear.

If the one outside did not answer back with three gunshots,

or fired fewer times, that meant something had gone wrong.

Agent 50, something like the operation commander,

thought:

"How many of the women are traitors?

Just one. Otherwise, we would all be dead by now.

The Colombian woman was the first to speak.

It's not her. The mute one either. Me neither.

It's either the tall one or the little one.

The tall one or the little one.

She's dead. Leave her. We're out of here.

How did you know that...? – I guessed. Let's go.

Are you okay?

We're out of here.

Lock him in there. Let's go.

We're leaving.

This is Casterman's doing.

But...what then?

Let's go.

Let's get out of here.

Hurry.

What are we gonna do?

I don't know. Let's go.

"It makes no difference", thought Agent 50.

"They will kill us all anyway. There's nothing we can do.

I have to think. For the moment, we need to get out of here."

For the time being, let's get out of here.

Come on. Let's go.

What about them? What do we do?

Leave them there.

Let them find them as soon as possible.

It makes no difference.

"He sold us out," thought Agent 50. The bloody skeleton sold us out.

And the bloody skeleton was Casterman.

Casterman, the spymaster. Her boss.

The same man that had sent them there.

That's it, the same man that had sent them there,

had sent them to kill them.

It was a trap. It was all a trap, and they had fallen into it.

Agent 50 was right. Casterman had won.

Sometime during the day, or during the night,

or the following day, at the most.

He was going to find them, and he was going to kill them.

All of them.

There was nothing to be done.

IN BRUSSELS

TWO WEEKS BEFORE

Yes, Mother.

The ones in the car... I don't understand what they...

The ones in the car just have to check they have the professor, Bárbara.

You don't need to worry about them.

You have to stick to your role until we come along.

Then, while they take care of us, you kill them from behind.

Is that clear, Bárbara?

Crystal clear, Mother.

Ceryneian.

From now on, Ladies, my code name is "Ceryneian".

I don't want anyone calling me "Mother".

From now on, Ladies...

you are all part of the "Operation Hercules".

"Operation Hercules".

Do we all agree on this?

Good.

Now, let's move to our girls...

This one's called Theresa.

Her code name will be "Nemea".

This girl will drive the van.

There's no need to worry much about her, Bárbara.

I doubt she can shoot.

A weird character.

She doesn't speak. She was born mute.

We know she worked for a while in England.

She's English.

About this one, we know nothing. Not even her name.

We will call her "Hydra".

She's dangerous. Very violent...

Almost an animal.

I don't know how old she is. She might not even be 20.

Almost a child. Don't get cocksure.

if she can kill you, she will kill you.

She comes from some country in Central America.

We thought she was Cuban, but we're not sure.

El Salvador or Nicaragua, maybe.

One of those shitty countries south of Mexico.

Code name. Deianira.

We don't know much about this dwarf either.

Another mystery. We know she is very professional.

She even did some big jobs.

It is believed she's the one who killed

Abu Hassan in Jordan a few years back.

We think she worked for NATO, doing their dirty work.

But nothing is certain.

No name, no country of origin. "No homeland, no husband."

Her face says she's a good person... but she's not good at all.

They call her 301.

That's it. 301.

"Hippolyta" That's her code name.

Hippolyta!

She is the closest to a boss they'll ever have.

Or at least, she acts like a boss.

She likes to give orders. She's overqualified for this job.

She worked for a long time in the Moscow Center.

She got pretty high up.

She got to be grade 50.

Do you understand?

In case you don't know, that is very, very high.

Not just anyone can get to be grade 50 in the Moscow Center.

Who knows what she is doing down there, poor soul.

What sins she committed to get there.

Stop. Light.

Any question?

None of you has anything to ask?

Ladies, do you have any idea what you're about to do?

Ladies, stand up please.

Let's see, ladies...

Which would you say

has been the hardest job you've done so far?

Lena.

Lena. Which would you say has been your hardest job to date?

I guess it would be Burma.

And you, Fox?

Yugoslavia, Madam.

Yugoslavia...

You were also there, right, Bárbara?

And it was hard. Wasn't it?

Yes.

What about you, Bethania?

Bethania!

You know South America, right?

You were born there. Right?

You're the only one.

Have any of the others been there?

None of you. Is that right?

You're not worried. Right?

You're prepared for any danger. Right?

Or am I wrong?

About turn.

Let's see...

You...

Go over there.

Well then, ladies.

Can anyone take care of him?

Lena for instance.

Do you think you can?

Yes, madam.

Go ahead, then.

Very good.

Very impressive.

Now I see why you were so calm.

Come on...

Get this idiot out of here.

Let's see what happens with me.

Let's see what happens with me, Lena.

Come on.

The three of you, come.

The three of you, together.

I said together.

Enough.

That's enough, Mother.

Ladies...

Mother is right.

It's a tough mission.

You're too confident.

You need more training.

Now you can leave.

You too, Mother.

Should I leave too?

Yes.

Yes...

That's all. Thank you.

THE SAD MAN

So this is how it was. It was the time of spies.

Everyone had their spies,

and sometimes they made them kill the spies of others,

and other times, when something went wrong,

they killed their own spies.

But there were some spies that even they could not kill,

and so they called him. And so, he came out of nowhere,

as if he were some kind of angel, as if he were a savior,

coming from who knows where to protect them.

And everyone believed him.

Mister Huberman?

Captain Hans Huberman?

My name is Casterman. Have you got a minute?

He treated them well.

He gave them food, gave them passports,

gave them a place to live, gave them money.

He told them that from that moment they would work for him,

and that if they did as he said, everything would remain the same.

Spies always accepted,

because there was nothing else they could do;

because a spy gone rogue is a castaway,

a waste nobody wants and is good for nothing.

And so they said yes, and did a couple of jobs for him,

until suddenly there came a job from which they did not come back.

Nobody missed them,

and nobody ever thought about them ever again.

These were the last years of the 20th century.

The time of spies. The last years of the time of spies.

It was a sad time, and he was that. Sad.

A poor skeleton wandering across the globe,

taking care of some poor souls that had once been useful;

taking care of erasing their prints,

of making them fully disappear.

And he was scrawny, quiet, silent, blurry as a shadow,

incapable of giving or inspiring affection.

"The man who never laughs". That's what they called him.

The man no one had seen laugh.

Laugh or get angry or express any kind of emotion.

But laugh more than anything else. "The man who never laughs".

Always alone.

Always smoking his pipe while gazing blankly,

always with a hidden hand, touching his chest, or his stomach,

or some part of his body, as if something ached.

As if something always ached.

That was it. That was the famous Casterman.

He was neither an assassin nor a secret agent, or a bureaucrat.

He was not even a bad person.

He had ordered our four girls killed, but there had been others before,

and there would be many more after that,

and things would continue in such fashion,

until one day someone would make him disappear.

Final chapter of the story; and final chapter of Casterman.

Like those grey uneventful days that go by without one noticing,

and that quickly merge with the others,

and are soon forgotten and leave no trace behind, not a mark,

not a sign.

That's how Casterman was. Just like those days.

You have reached KYRON import/export.

We are unable to answer your call right now,

but we will get back to you as soon as possible.

Please leave your message after the tone.

Please, speak clearly and slowly. Thank you.

Good afternoon, my name is Bianca Fittipaldi

and I represent the Fittipaldi Shipping Company

from Genoa for the Baltic and the North Seas.

I have reached your company through the phone book,

and my firm is interested in making contact

to offer our services.

If you are interested, my phone number is 8334-433.

Thank you.

Tuesday 3:22 PM

Good morning, I'm calling on behalf

of the building's homeowners association

to notify you that the disinfection tasks

will take place next Tuesday during the morning.

If there is any inconvenience, please call our office before noon.

Thank you.

Tuesday 5:50 PM

Good afternoon, we are calling from the post office

to remind you that, for a month now,

there has been a package from Geneva under your name here,

and if it is not picked up, we will proceed to incinerate it.

Just in case, the tracking number is 90-73-82.

Thank you.

Thursday 11:31 AM

Hello...

Hello...

Anybody there?

Sorry. My name is Bianca Fittipaldi and a few days ago,

I left a message to get in touch with your company's director.

I don't know if you got the message,

but it said I represent a shipping company,

the Fittipaldi Shipping Company.

Until now, our firm has been working

essentially in the Mediterranean and the Red Sea,

but now we are opening new offices in Antwerp and Rotterdam

with the aim of providing our services in the Baltic and the North Seas.

Our aim is to have an interview with your company's director

to introduce our services and thus...

Thursday 10:22 PM

Thursday 10:24 PM

Ceryneian to Stymphalis.

Ceryneian to Stymphalis.

We are here, in the South.

We know they have arrived too.

Only Geryon and Diomedes are missing.

They arrive tomorrow. The Operation is on Saturday.

So far, so good.

I'll keep you posted.

Saturday 1:00 PM

Saturday 1:01 PM

Ceryneian to Stymphalis.

They have entered the Garden of the Hesperides.

Our girl is among them.

As soon as they get the apple, I'll call you again.

Everything is going according to plan.

Geryon and Diomedes are in position.

I expect to call you at 11, local time here,

with Dreyfuss in our hands.

If I don't call you at 11, local time here,

it's because something went wrong.

Goodbye.

There are no more messages.

There are no more messages.

Thank you.

IN SOUTH AMERICA 10:00 AM

Stop now.

Stop!

I said stop...

That's enough.

Okay, bastard, game over. Let's get this over with.

Enough.

Tell him to speak.

Come on, motherfucker, spill it.

Don't waste my time, spill it.

I've told you I don't know anything. I know what you know,

I don't know what you want me to tell you.

They told me I had to get a van.

Poor little boy...

Keep talking, cocksucker.

That's all they told me. They didn't tell me what for, nothing.

I got it and I brought it to you. That's all I know.

And the car?

The other car.

The other car, fucker. – What car?

Okay, fucker, let's get this clear.

If you're not gonna answer my question,

I can easily split your head in two.

All right. All right. The car, yes.

They told me I should get another car, too.

Another car.

A foreign young man came to pick it up.

One? One or two?

What's the deal?

Was it one or two?

What are you talking about? Get it straight, fucker.

Two.

Then don't say one. Say two.

The Volvo?

Yes. It was him...

He says they were only two.

Okay...

Go on...

Let me ask the following question...

I've had it. There's no more time.

Don't do it like this, with little questions...

Make him spit it all out...

Listen to me. You've heard her.

She's already mad at you, and I'm mad at you too, fucker.

We got tired of killing people today.

Do you want to join today's list of casualties, fucker?

See that cute little head you have? I'll blow your brains out.

Because if you don't want me to blow the brains

out of that cute little head, you know what you need to do...

All right. I got it, you don't have to.

That's more like it.

He's gonna talk.

The thing with you is like this, once you have the man,

you had to get him in the van and take him to the Salado.

Right?

There, they would be waiting for him with a boat, to take him away. Right?

What's that? – What?

What's that?

What's what?

That Salado thing, fucker.

The Salado, the river.

It's a river. Then say, a river. Be clear.

What's going on?

The river. He knows about the river.

What does he know?

About the river.

That they were going to take the old man through the river.

He knew that.

What else does he know?

What else? Go on.

Well, the thing is that they would be waiting for you.

Before you got to the river,

they would be waiting for you at a crossing.

And what's a crossing for you?

A crossing, a place where the roads cross.

Oh, a crossroads. Then say "a crossroads".

I know what a crossroads is, chico, I'm not an animal. You know?

Well, the thing is

that they would be waiting for you there at the crossing.

The crossing between 20 and 36.

They are two roads, right? That's the number of the roads.

Take it easy, boy. Don't get all worked up.

What else?

The thing is that they would be waiting for you there at the crossing,

the women would be hiding.

They would somehow try to stop the van

and once they had you there,

they would come out and kill you all four.

Okay, they would kill us four...

What's that you say about them hiding?

Why do you say the women would be hiding?

Who would they be hiding?

Because they are women.

They are four women like you.

I didn't see them.

I had to pick them up, after they had killed you...

Four women.

The MOTHER. He has sent THE MOTHER.

Where did you have to take the women, fucker?

To the Salado?

No. It's like this.

The ones in the Volvo had to take the man to the Salado.

The women had to go someplace else, to an airfield.

They would spend the night there.

The following morning, a plane would pick them up.

I had to stay with them until they boarded the plane.

And what the fuck's an airfield?

An airfield...

Who's that?

Now you stay very still, don't you move.

Don't worry about this one. He's got nothing to do with any of it.

He works for Road Maintenance.

What is he saying?

I don't know. I don't understand him very well...

Let's see... Listen to me...

You're going to get out there

and you're going to talk to that guy as if nothing happened.

Do you hear me?

I don't want you to make a single gesture,

or a sign, or a trick. Are we clear?

We will be watching you from here.

If you so much as move a single hair out of place,

you're a dead man.

A dead man! Is that clear?

What she means is that... – Yeah... I get it...

Eyes wide open.

I don't want surprises.

No tricks.

Do you understand what they are saying?

Is everything going fine?

Pay attention.

Are you sure there's nothing odd?

What are they talking about?

He said he caught some partridges.

Hares?

He also caught some hares, he said.

He was here the other day, and he didn't tell me anything.

You sure? – Yes, he didn't tell me anything.

He's a bit of a storyteller.

He only exaggerates a bit. He could have done that.

He could've caught partridges.

Sure, sure, sure.

Do you think he suspects anything?

Nothing.

Damn! This never ends!

Let's go, who knows, maybe we can catch a vizcacha.

Could be...

My God, pickled, it's delicious.

It is? Do you know how to prepare it?

Do I know? My God!

I'm the best damn thing in town, young man.

Really? We have to go then. Let's go in this car.

By all means... – We'll take the dogs.

Of course, kid.

Imagine we catch a partridge. I'm no good with partridges.

Do you? – Yes.

The trouble is when you pluck them,

because they have short feathers, maybe...

But we have to take the dogs, because there's no way

I'm getting in the water with this cold.

Well, we can take the dogs in the trunk if you want.

That's enough.

THE OTHER DUEL.

That's it.

I'm coming out.

Let's get out, there's no one here.

Bethania!

Bethania!

Bethania. What are you doing?

Bethania, get back!

Go back to your hiding place, will you?

This is ridiculous.

It doesn't make sense. There's no one here.

Bethania... Did you hear what I told you?

I'm sick of this comedy number.

It's over!

Get out! Did you hear me!

Get out!

Stop making that stupid noise.

Lena...

Are you deaf? Get out.

It's over.

Lena.

Where are you? Shit!

Get out right now!

Stop playing the fool.

Oh, God! Shit!

Stop it! Enough already!

Come here, the three of you.

Now!

What are you thinking?

Something must have gone wrong...

Something happened.

Isn't it too soon to...?

They should've got here an hour ago.

One hour.

Do you get it?

In this job, an hour is like a month for you.

Is that clear?

Very clear.

Something must have gone wrong.

Otherwise, at least those good-for-nothings would be here.

And shouldn't we...? – The river.

They must be in the river.

That's it...

Let's get out of here.

The van.

Now!

What about the nails? What do I do with them?

Just leave them there. Come on, hurry up!

The nails! Who can think about the nails!

According to the young man,

we have to go this way until we reach the tree.

There it is.

What was it that he called it?

He said the name...

I don't know...

He used many strange words.

Anyway, that's the one.

He said, "A big strange tree".

It has to be that one. Clearly.

Big and strange, really.

It looks like a monster.

All right.

Now we have to go on for three miles.

What did he call miles?

It was funny...

Leagues...

Leagues... so funny...

Are you all right?

Yes... Yes, I'm fine.

Bamboo...

Yes. Bamboo...

That's it...

First, they drove along a desolate small road.

Then they took another one full of potholes

that reminded them

of the roads in Laos and Cambodia during the war.

Finally, they took a dirt road.

They saw lakes,

they saw herds of black cows grazing in the distance,

they saw very old houses painted pink or red.

They saw wire fences, and windmills, like in Australia.

They saw low, lonely palm trees.

They saw scavenger birds bigger than a falcon

and smaller than an eagle.

They saw hares darting across the road.

They saw wooden gates, long and tall, with words written on signs,

unintelligible words.

They saw dogs that ran towards them to bark at them,

to then chase them persistently for several meters.

They saw high-tension towers,

moving away towards the horizon like giants.

They saw dry trees, and light posts,

or telephone posts

on which some rodent or bird had built strange mud nests.

Once they saw a man on horseback,

and that man waved at them, as if he knew them.

They knew that those things were the last ones they would see,

that distant and strange landscape.

At dawn they would be dead,

and that forsaken flatland would be their grave.

One of them thought about the sea, another one, about the snow.

Another one thought about the rainforest and the birdsong.

Another one thought, "It's not that bad.

"One place or another, it makes no difference.

"At least it's not hot."

Half an hour before dusk,

they saw in the distance two white low sheds

outlined against the horizon. The famous airfield.

The following morning,

a plane would land there to pick up their assassins

and take them far away from that filthy country.

The plan was to wait for them there.

"If they are going to kill us, we shouldn't be getting away.

Let's be us who wait for them."

"Let's wait for them", though Agent 50.

"I want to see if they are as mean as they say they are."

301 looked at her and said, "It's a dare".

"Something like that", answered the other one.

"A duel", said 301.

"Yes, a duel", answered Agent 50.

And she repeated, as if to herself, "A duel".

Is it there?

Is it there?

I think so.

Men?

Not much. Just one. An old man. I think he also talked about a dog.

301 looked back, where some lights started to flicker in the distance.

She told Agent 50 to look at the last villages.

And two tears rolled down Agent 50's face.

ON THE SALADO RIVER

ONE OUR BEFORE

Ceryneian to Stymphalis.

Yes...

Something's gone wrong.

They are nowhere to be seen.

Yes, we lost them.

Yes, positive.

Geryon and Diomedes are dead.

Yes, both of them.

I think the mute killed them.

Bárbara too.

Something's gone terribly wrong.

We did everything as planned.

We hid in the planned spot.

One hour.

Yes. One hour hiding.

Yes. One hour.

But...

That was what was agreed.

And what do we do now?

Yes, but where?

And where are you?

Yes, I know, but...

Nothing.

Not a trace that they were ever here.

I'm calling him.

ONE HOUR LATER IN BRUSSELS

Yes... What happened? ....

Are you sure?

Both of them?

One hour?

One hour hiding.

They are laughing at you...

They are making a laughingstock of you. A laughingstock...

What do you do? Well, move on, what else?

Keep looking!

How would I know where? How the hell could I know?

I'm in Brussels! Remember? Brussels!

Goodbye.

Ridiculous.

Hidden for an hour.

Hidden for an hour.

STOP.

So. Here we are, it's been a long time.

A word of warning, this is not the intermission.

The intermission is coming up in a few minutes.

The first one.

A long time after that comes the other one.

The thing is that if we go back

to thinking about the film as an entirety, we would be here.

That is, at the beginning of episode III.

That episode, the one of the spies, is the only one you will see today.

At the point we are now,

the four spies have arrived at the airfield

where they will wait

for their enemies to come to kill them

sometime during the night.

That night, the last night of waiting,

will occupy the entirety of the episode.

In the meantime,

we will see the stories of the four agents.

How each of them got there.

The first one takes place between Berlin and London.

The second one, in some Central American country.

The third one, around the globe.

The last one, in Moscow and finally in Siberia, befittingly.

Well, so,

at this point,

we are now exactly three hours, twenty five minutes away from the end.

Good luck.

EXPERIMENTAL CENTER OF AEROSPACE TECHNOLOGY

FOR WESTERN EUROPE

SCANIA SWEDEN

Let me do the talking. Don't say anything.

I know how to deal with her.

Professor...

Professor Dreyfuss...

As far as I know,

security measures apply to everyone, Horst.

Even to Nobel candidates and war heroes.

Sorry, Professor...

Professor... We have a surprise...

I don't know if you know the young Gert-Jan.

He is in charge of our projects...

I know who he is, Horst...

Well...

He is standing next to me right now...

You don't need to tell me that. I can see him.

Well, see... He has been working... On his own...

In the project 532551...

On the Minotaur...

I'm well aware which one's the 532551, Horst...

Sorry...

The thing

is that the young Gert-Jan has solved...

Well... He has solved the propellers problem...

I believe I can properly claim that the Minotaur...

your father's dream, Professor,

is now... We can build it...

You will find most of it familiar...

We based our model on your father's blueprints.

That was our starting...

What's the alloy proportion, Gert-Jan?

Of the propellers?

Of the whole structure, Gert-Jan.

I... I gather it's around 70 per cent...

It will get on fire...

It will get on fire, Gert-Jan...

It will get on fire with the crew inside...

It will blow into smithereens, Gert-Jan.

Smithereens...

Where are you?

Where do they have you?

DREYFUSS

According to the young man

we have to go this way until we reach the tree.

There it is.

What was it that he called it?

He said the name...

I don't know... He used many strange words.

"They are going to kill me," thought Dreyfuss.

"A second ago I was not sure, but now I am.

"That's it. They are taking me away to kill me."

"That's it..." thought Dreyfuss.

"For some reason, they didn't kill me with the others,

"but now, they will.

"They are driving away from the main road.

"In the middle of nowhere.

"They want to do it where no one sees them. That's it."

"They are talking about that. I'm sure.

"They are talking about killing me. Where to kill me.

"They are waiting for the night to come. That's it.

"They want to kill me at night."

All right.

Now we have to go on for three miles.

What did he call miles? It was funny...

"That's it," thought Dreyfuss. "That's it.

"They are waiting for the night to come.

"As soon as it gets dark, so long. Bang, bang.

"They get me off the van,

"they make me walk a few meters and so long.

"Let the vultures take me.

"Out in the open, among swamps. In a nameless ditch.

"You're a lucky old fucker."

Bamboo...

Yes. Bamboo...

That's it...

Hey, you, can you stop for a second?

There.

"Here we go," thinks Dreyfuss. "The time has come. They'll kill me."

Hey, you, mind your own business.

Hey, you, coming down? Are you getting off?

Okay, better. Let's go.

Thanks.

I couldn't stand it anymore.

From that moment,

he stopped thinking they would kill him.

"So what now?" he wondered. "What is all this then?"

He thought that maybe

they simply wanted to hand him to others,

to swap him from someone else. He thought that maybe

they just wanted to get him out of there.

"Maybe they are the good ones," he thought.

"Who knows, everything is possible."

Dreyfuss didn't even know where he was.

At first he thought "Italy.

"Somewhere in the south of Italy."

Then he corrected himself. "Not Italy. Spain."

As time went by he began to hesitate. This didn't look like Europe.

He would have said South East Asia, but there were no Chinese.

He would have said South America, or Africa,

but there were no blacks either. What then?

He concluded he was in Europe alright,

but in some little-known region in the south.

Some part of Yugoslavia," he thought. Yugoslavia or Romania.

"That's it," he thought, "Romania, I must be in Romania."

It's there.

See that building?

I think it's there.

Stop.

I think we're there.

So there it is...

Our meeting point.

The final battle.

What do you think?

My gringa...

What do you think?

And you?

What's on your mind?

Well, what a party to die with, fucker.

We are going in.

You stay here.

It may take a while.

Be patient.

If we're not back in half an hour...

you leave.

Let's go.

Dreyfuss remained like that for a long while.

In silence, just him and the woman, doing nothing, almost without moving,

while the night fell.

The woman did not make a sound, she didn't even move.

Dreyfuss suddenly noticed that, in that strange unknown flatland,

a strong wind began to blow.

"West wind," thought Dreyfuss.

Cold and damp.

One of those winds from the flatlands of the south of Europe

that carry the storms to the Black Sea or to the Balkans,

or go to irrigate the sunflower and beetroot fields

in Bessarabia and Moldavia.

Dreyfuss thought

"That's a good thing. The sun will come out tomorrow."

And he saw how the wind carried the clouds even farther,

and the sky, that had been gray throughout the day,

suddenly turned yellow, and then pink, and then blue.

An almost epic dark blue that for some reason

reminded Dreyfuss of battles.

Of the battles that lay ahead.

Of those skies that loom before the armies

that are about to engage in combat.

Battles, armies. That's what came to Dreyfuss' mind.

Why? Him, who had never seen a battle in his whole life.

Who hadn't even heard a bullet whistle by,

who had spent a warm youth in Stockholm while his cousins,

uncles, and childhood friends were taken by the Germans.

While the Germans came and locked them in Axeman,

or in Ede, or in Flocksberg,

freezing and scared to death, while he didn't.

He had always been left alone, always comfortable,

safe and with money in his pockets,

they had even paid for his trip to Leipzig

so that he could study his rockets and engines.

Him, who had gotten used to the comforts

like a dog used to sleeping on couches

that you can no longer get down.

Him, now having those heroic thoughts.

Him, who, if you had to be honest,

had never thought about dying until that very afternoon.

And so, one by one, the stars came out.

And then Dreyfuss looked up at the sky.

"Of, course," he thought. "I'm not in Romania. I'm in the South.

"Somewhere in the southern hemisphere."

And when he noticed

that not only the North Star and the Big Dipper were missing,

but also Vega, he realized he was deep down,

at the bottom of the planet.

"This is a new sky", he thought. "I had never seen this sky before."

He had an awkward feeling of euphoria. An odd giddiness.

As if he were a boy

who had just caught his parents drunk or naked.

The stars were the same ones,

the constellations were the same ones, but they were inverted.

Orion was upside down, holding the club downwards.

The old hunter had his feet up in the air,

like in the Seiter's painting that appears

when one looks up Orion in an encyclopedia.

And the bull is also upside down,

its big jaw turned away from the ground,

like the carcasses in the slaughterhouse

after being struck by the hammer.

And Centaurus and the Scorpion,

upside down at each side of the horizon.

And the inverted twins, Pollux before Castor,

the weak before the strong.

Everything upside down, the world turned upside down.

And thus, intoxicated by looking at the sky,

he felt that the stars were his exile companions.

And that they were as far as he was, as surprised as him at being there.

As ridiculous as him, in that very strange sky.

Betelgeuse, Rigel, Aldebaran. All wrong. All in the wrong place.

And suddenly he saw Sirius in the horizon and he found it funny.

What are you doing there, old dog?

Since when do you roll over your back, legs up, like a seal?

And thus he kept on gazing at the night and making jokes.

Until at one point he discovered the Cross.

The Southern Cross.

The four perfect little stars, like a diamond, or like a kite.

The Southern Cross!

For the first time,

after a whole life looking up at the sky.

And so then, he smiled.

He smiled beneath his gag

and he now no longer thought about death, or the woman by his side,

nor about his captivity,

or the strange story he had gotten himself into,

about which he did not understand the first thing.

And at some point, something happened further ahead in the darkness,

and the silent woman by his side seemed to worry,

and she stealthily walked away,

got lost in the night, but he didn't even notice it.

And only after a few minutes, he came round,

as if waking from a dream, and noticed he was alone.

And he remained alone for a long while,

locked up, gagged and hands tied, looking up at the sky,

stunned, thrilled, strangely happy.