Andrea Lepri - The Last Christmas On Earth

"There is always the toxicological examination," offered Helen hopefully.

"It will not give us any result."

"How can you be so sure?"

"While you were staring at the ceiling trying not to vomit," the Coroner explained, pointing to some test tubes, "I tested the fabrics with the most common substances without getting any results. It remains only to analyze the samples taken with some reagents a little more particular, but I am sure that nothing good will appear."

"So what are we going to do now?" Asked Helen distressed, the investigation was certainly not starting well.

"I really don't know what to do, let me think. There is no evidence to suggest that they may have committed suicide or may have been drugged or intoxicated, or killed. They look too relaxed, not even a contracted nerve. Then they should be in full Rigor Mortis, and instead, they seem to be sleeping, rather than being dead. Do you know how many corpses I have analyzed in over thirty years ?" He added then indignantly, noticing Helen's perplexed look.

"And you have no other evidence? For example, if they had or had not yet "copulated" ?"

"Whether or not they did it is irrelevant to what we're looking for. It's like if those two had died without a real reason, as if their souls had waited to fall asleep and fly away, all at once. In sync."

She eyed him with her eyebrows raised as if he was raving.

"You don't believe me, eh? And then, let's hear what happened to these guys."

"All right, let's listen to your absurd theory!" Helen challenged him, crossing her arms over her chest.

"You know what's a hairdryer, don't you? You take it, you turn it on, and when you finish using it, you unplug it and in the end, you put it back in the drawer. The same thing happened to these two. They died out of the blue, as if something or someone had suddenly pulled their thorns out, you know? And the exact same thing happened to their car."

"Now what has their car to do with it?" Asked Helen, always more and more confused.

"When I arrived where they were found to carry out the preliminary inspection, the mechanic who went to pick it up was swearing badly. He tried in every way to start their car but failed; the car is new and the engine is perfect, but it won't start."

"Maybe because of a hole they broke some electrical wires, or it was flooded," Helen suggested, but the Coroner shook his head. "The guy had the laptop with him for the self-diagnosis, he connected it to the control unit and it said everything was working perfectly. Simply, the car didn't want to know how to start."

"Strange indeed," Helen said.

"And furthermore, the control unit said the last time the car was off more or less at the same time when those two kicked the bucket," he concluded.

Helen looked at him pissed-off because of his disrespectful way of expressing those two poor people's deaths.

"The only thing that could explain this fact is that those two were hit by an electric field, that had the wave frequency necessary to simultaneously blow their hearts and the control unit of their car, but I just can't imagine what might have produced a similar situation in the middle of a forest," concluded Stevenson.

"I have never heard such an absurd theory," the woman considered after thinking for a moment, then began to wander thoughtfully around the room looking at her feet going back and forth. When she raised her head looking for Stevenson to ask him a question, she saw him with his forefinger resting on the "on" button of the pod coffee maker.

"Don't do it," she told him, but he was already pressing the button and a moment later all the lights went out.

"What is going on now?"

"The machine is short-circuited, every time it is turned on it blows the current to the entire compartment."

"Then why don't you get rid of it?" Stevenson asked, annoyed.

"The fact it has the plug disconnected doesn't mean nothing to you? And then I would love to know how you can think of having a coffee just five minutes after having gutted two bodies, you still have the bloody coat on," she replied disgusted, turning with her arm outstretched toward the corpses. Something about those bodies caught her attention and came closer to watch them better.

"What's going on?" He asked.

"Be quiet."

"Tell me what the hell is going on?" Stevenson insisted.

"That blue fluorescence they have on their foreheads and arms ... do you see it?"

"It is really strange ... is it radiation?" He proposed.

"I wouldn't say," she replied, shaking her head doubtfully.

"It looks rather like a powder that has adhered to the skin, so fine that it penetrates the pores and gets trapped inside ... I found something similar even on Harry's bike."

"Harry?"

"Yes, James's son."

"Your James?"

"Is it possible that even in moments like these you have to start joking?" She scolded him, pushing him.

"Ok, sorry ... but then what is it?"

"You should tell me, you are the doctor, aren't you?"

Dr. Parker was deeply demoralized, despite his systematic attempts over the whole range of possible frequencies he had failed to restore the radio link that had been interrupted for a long time. He insisted day after day, trying and trying again, but his messages had always received as response the usual "bip" , absolutely meaningless. He hypothesized that this silence could not have been due to a simple failure of the receiving station, because it had lasted for too long; it was rather as if no one was at the other end of the line. He came to the conclusion that, regardless of the cause, that trouble was not needed, at least not at that very moment and after another vain attempt, he switched off the device nervously. Establishing the link and keeping it alive over time had cost him years of hard work and experiments, and now, that the radio link had dissolved, he felt like a newborn abandoned on the stairs of a church. He wondered if it was necessary to inform Eve about it, but knowing that she would not take it well, he decided that for the moment he would not tell her anything. After all, he still had a few days left to try and get things back in order and hoped that sooner or later he would make it.

Thinking of Eve, he looked at his watch and found out that, as usual, she was late; soon the first patients of the day would have arrived and she could not brief him on developments before a couple of hours. And that long awaiting would have torn him inside because he was impatient to know if everything had gone according to plan.

Considering that there were still ten minutes left before the first appointment, he placed his finger on the power button of the device, uncertain whether to make another attempt or not, but when he was about to press it, someone knocked forcefully on the door. He looked at the monitor connected to the camera installed on the door and immediately recognized Mrs. Murphy, her appearance was unmistakable due to the red. smudged lipstick and to the platinum, blonde hair covered in part by the shawl. The old lady stood at the door and holding her Miao in her arms. She had thoughtfully wrapped it in a Scottish-style cover and was cuddling it as if it was a child. Dr. Parker slammed his foot angrily on the ground. Although he had explained to her several times that he was not a veterinarian, the woman had taken the bad habit of bringing the cat to the clinic at least once a week, and in one way or another, she always managed to force him to visit her cat.

James set the table and placed toasted bread, jam, spreadable butter, hot milk and orange juice on top, then went upstairs to call Harry.

"Professor, are you awake?" He asked quietly as he entered the room. He was convinced that he was still in bed, but his son was already washed and dressed, and like every morning he was placed in front of the telescope pointed at the Constellation of Orion. "Good morning, daddy," he greeted him smiling as if nothing had happened. Apparently, the events of the previous 48 hours had not left the slightest trace and James was happy.