Have you eaten?'
'With the parrots. How did you manage to make them so tame?'
'They're not frightened of humans. They've never been hunted or trapped. I've got used to sharing my food with them.'
'You wrote that you were looking after some trees. Is that what you do? How you earn your living?'
'I thought I'd show you tomorrow. I look after trees, go fishing, and I keep out of the way. The latter is my biggest job. You have dealt me a major blow, simply by finding me. Naturally I am grateful that you were the one who came with the awful news. Perhaps I would have wondered why Henrik stopped writing to me. I would have found out sooner or later. Possibly by chance. I would never have survived a shock like that. But you were the messenger.'
'What happened to all your computers? You were the one who was going to prevent the world from losing all the memories created in our age. You once said that the "ones and zeros" in the world's computers were demons that could trick the human race into losing all its history.'
'I believed that for a long time. We felt that we were saving the world from a devastating epidemic caused by the virus of vacuity, the ultimate death that blank pieces of paper represent. All the empty archives stripped of all their contents by a cancer that was incurable would make our day and age an insoluble riddle for people who live in the future. We really did believe we were on the way to finding an alternative archive system that would preserve our time for generations to come. We were looking for an alternative to the "ones and zeros". Or, rather, we were trying to create an elixir which would guarantee that one day computers would refuse to allow data inside them to be removed. We created a formula, an unprotected source code, that we later sold to a consortium in the USA. We received huge amounts of money for it. We had also made a contract guaranteeing that within twenty-five years the patent would become available to all countries of the world to use without their needing to pay for a licence. One day I stood in a New York street with a cheque for five million dollars in my hand. I kept one of those millions and gave away the rest. Do you understand what I'm saying?'
'Some . . . Not everything.'
'I can explain in detail.'
'Not now. Did you give anything to Henrik?'
Aron gave a start and looked at her in astonishment.
'Why should I have given him any money?'
'It wouldn't have been entirely unreasonable to give one's own son a contribution towards his living expenses.'
'I never received any money from my parents. I still thank them for that even today. Nothing can spoil children more than giving them something they ought to earn for themselves.'
'Who did you give the money to?'
'There were so many possibilities to choose from. I gave it all to a foundation here in Australia that works to preserve the dignity of the Aborigines. Their life and their culture, to put it another way. I could have given the money to cancer research, to the preservation of rainforests, to the fight against locust plagues in East Africa. I put thousands of bits of paper in a hat and pulled out one that said Australia. I gave away the money, then I came here. Nobody knows it was me who donated the money. That's the most satisfying part of all.'
Aron stood up.
'I need to get a few hours' sleep. My tiredness is getting to me.'
She remained on the sofa, and soon heard him snoring. The snores rolled through her consciousness like waves. She remembered them from the old days.
In the evening he took her to a restaurant that clung on to a mountain ledge like an eagle's nest. There were few other diners. Aron seemed to know the waiter well, and went out into the kitchen with him.
The meal served as another reminder of the time when she and Aron had lived together. Poached fish and wine. That had always been their celebratory menu. She remembered an odd camping holiday when they had eaten pike caught by Aron in dark forest tarns. But they had also eaten cod and whiting in northern Norway, and sole in France.
He spoke to her through the choice of menu. That was his way of becoming familiar with her, making a cautious attempt to