Liberi Reader

For a long time afterwards, Eirene thought back to her hesitation that night every time she drove her truck alone.

The sky is completely dark by the time the truck stops at the edge of Court Square. She does not turn off the engine; the vibration is transmitted to her wrists via the steering wheel, before gradually subsiding.

She called Lavinia on her way, saying she has something to discuss.

Eirene mutters in the driver's seat, but she cannot bring herself to finish the sentence: 'You're the only one I can count on.'

Is she really the only one? Eirene spends a few moments in bitter silence, as raindrops splash her face through a gap in the window.

She turns off the engine.

Eirene irritably shakes the object in her hand. It makes a swishing sound.

The package is obviously wine bottle-shaped, never mind the Saluzzo Vino logo displayed prominently on it.

Ruggiero is interrupted by the sound of his phone ringing. Eirene says nothing; she shakes her head and turns around to leave.

Ruggiero hears an urgent voice as soon as he picks up the phone.

Seeing Ruggiero's anxiety, Eirene gestures for him to pass the terminal.

Eirene cannot recall what she saw in the forced smile that Gianni offered her.

Was it regret, or apology?

Gianni departed promptly upon hearing the foreign businessman's 'kind words' before Eirene could intervene, muttering a few words of self-encouragement to himself.

I can't just let it go like this, thought Eirene.

Ruggiero stops in mid-sentence. Eirene asks no more; perhaps she is afraid that she might ask how the mob boss learned about the issues facing Gianni's family, when she herself has only just heard of them moments ago.

She feels like she has spent too long in her office, so long that she can barely recognize her family anymore. Same as it was two years ago.

The lighting at the Kazimierzian Chamber of Commerce's reception room is much warmer than the Agenzia per la Sicurezza dei Trasporti's office, the thick rug thoroughly muffling the sound of any footsteps.

The water and documents on the table are placed such that one cannot tell if this is the table of a formal negotiation, or simply a courtesy discussion.

The Kazimierzian representative arrive a little earlier than appointed and is looking at the documents when Eirene arrives. He sets the papers down and stands to greet her.

Eirene sits without engaging in small talk.

Eirene takes out a stack of contracts and pushes them forward. The edges are frayed from excessive flipping, and the pages are heavily labeled.

The Kazimierzian representative flips through the contract, reading it carefully, staying on one page for minutes, seemingly to confirm the detailed wording.

After some time, he finally puts it away.

The Kazimierzian representative is silent for a moment.

Eirene has a feeling that the silence is not a hesitation, but an assessment of whether the statement calls for the dignity of a response.

A fleeting feeling, nothing more.

Eirene stands up and shakes hands with her counterpart. The hand held in hers is firm, without applying excessive force, and the expression on the man's face remains polite, exactly as it was when Eirene entered the room.

Eirene nods.

Eirene even feels a slight spring in her step as she leaves the room, carrying the contract.

She did not cede ground. The feeling helps ease the anxiety that she felt before she came, but also causes a pang of regret.

If only she had come sooner to advocate for the drivers. If only she had checked the contract more carefully. Though everything is resolved now—at least, there is room to negotiate.

Eirene spends the next day tallying the violations on all the drivers, the Agenzia per la Sicurezza dei Trasporti's available budget, even her own savings.

Later, she goes back to the camp to tell the others not to worry about the fines.

Everything is getting better, just like the sunny weather that has graced Nuova Volsinii recently, thinks Eirene.

Sam is already feeling better by the time he leaves the pharmacy.

In terms of his wallet, at least. He has been off for three days; his fever has subsided, and he feels ready to go back to work.

Eirene stops mid-sentence. She feels a lump in her throat.

Her gaze falls upon the truck sitting on the edge of the camp. It has not been repaired yet, and the broken glass inside the truck gleams in the sunlight.

It takes a few moments for Sam to process the weight of the message, whereupon he visibly lets out a sigh of relief.

For a long time afterwards, what Eirene recalls most vividly about those two negotiations is not anything that her counterpart said, but the strange confidence that she had.

She believed—

That things would solve themselves if they were put out in the open, as long as rules and boundaries were upheld, even without having to rely on those forces that she was loathe to involve.

Eirene impatiently waves away the Lupo deliveryman behind her and turns to face the smartly-dressed Kuranta.

She is anxious yet helpless, unsure what to do with her raised hand.

His tone was calm, impassive, as though he was simply stating an indisputable fact, and was kind enough to explain it again for Eirene's sake.

The Kuranta pauses, then continues.

Eirene reflexively opens her mouth to say 'no', as she had done so many times whenever this subject is broached, but no words come out.

She sees a few drivers standing around the Kuranta in the distance, the same typical smile plastered over his face as always.

The man stands there, patiently holding a pamphlet, sometimes nodding and sometimes replying softly, looking more like a counselor listening to someone's troubles, than a salesman trying to advertise something.

The drivers listen to the Kuranta's explanations with perplexed expressions on their faces, while casting subtle, searching glances at Eirene.

It has been a long time since Eirene last drove a truck to work. It has been a long time since she drove a truck on the new city's roads.

Parking spaces are always at a premium at the city hall, where the Agenzia per la Sicurezza dei Trasporti's offices are located.

Visitors from local businesses, guests from foreign trade associations, drivers of the AST, colleagues from other departments... vehicles of all shapes and sizes come and go.

There is no space for a truck.

In the afternoon, when Eirene is driving her truck out of the camp, she overhears the other drivers discussing the pamphlets that the Kazimierzian representative brought, some with excitement, others with suspicion.

They talk about the number of fines this quarter, the profits of each job, and their children potentially getting to work for a winery, a pharmacy, or a vehicle factory.

The pamphlets paint a picturesque future, not so different from what she saw when she chose the foreigners in order to reject the famiglie.

But she knows that they also represent other things.

Eirene continues to drive for a long time. As the colors of dusk fill the sky, she dials a certain number on her terminal.