The Marsh Angel by Hagai Dagan

Author:Hagai Dagan [Dagan, Hagai]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-05-01T16:00:00+00:00

n. The Brains Lottery

A day went by. And another. Clouds gathered over the futuristic fort, condensed, showered down, and dispersed. In Sufit, the fields were being plowed; at the Barometer pub, beer glasses were being filled to the brim; and in Tamir Binder’s unassuming room in Department 195, nothing out of the ordinary was happening. The period of time known as life stretched into a kind of jejune sprawling present, cast in the mold of an uninspired office with dark, luminous clouds menacing through its windows.

Communications which usually would not find their way to Tamir’s computer were now being routed to him— reports by the Naval Intelligence Division on the movement of Iranian watercrafts in the area. Ever since the notice of priority for intelligence regarding such movements had been issued, all the relevant bodies started receiving a steady stream of reports regarding Iranian watercrafts roaming the Mediterranean Sea, the Persian Gulf, the Gulf of Aden, the Red Sea, and the Suez Canal. Tamir received several of these reports a day. He read through them all, searching for something out of the ordinary— but found nothing. One day, he received a report about an Iranian tanker which passed through the Suez Canal. There was nothing unusual about the tanker, and the Egyptians let it pass without delay. The NID reported that its destination was Tripoli in northern Lebanon, where it was intended to offload its cargo of oil.

Tripoli, Tamir mused. His hand hovered over the reddish telephone receiver for a few seconds, before settling it back down on his wooden desk. He got up from his seat and took the stairs down to the floor below, momentarily losing his bearings in the maze of cyclical hallways before finally arriving at the door of Department 143. He found the same soldier with his uniform shirt neatly buttoned all the way to the top, as if he hadn’t moved from his seat since the last time Tamir visited the office. Tamir amused himself with the thought that maybe he really hadn’t moved since then. He asked the soldier if he knows something about Iranian oil supplies to Lebanon.

Something, he smugly confirmed.

Tamir asked how many tankers arrive at Tripoli. The soldier replied that an Iranian tanker arrives about once a week.

So, it’s routine?

Yes.

Tamir thanked him, went back up to his department, and called Naval Intelligence Division. He spoke with someone named Arieh and requested that they try to follow the tanker to Tripoli, even though it’s probably just a routine cruise.

We don’t take orders from you, Arieh emphatically asserted.

I know. Listen, Arieh, I can take the long route through the usual channels, have a notice of priority for intelligence issued…

So do that. I’m not even supposed to be talking to you.

Do you have anything against the idea of collaboration between intelligence collection bodies?

There’s a way to go about these things.

Let’s put it this way— if you wanted to, could you track this vessel?

If we really wanted to, we could surveil the boat, I suppose.

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