A week later.
My beard had grown from a stubble to one which made me look like a beggar. I had been asked not to shave, and the reason that I could only comprehend was they were stupid. Turned out they weren’t.
A guy turned into my room. Name Charlie. Okay, I had got a second chance at figuring out what exactly this was about. Though I was almost sure nothing would turn up, just like always.
“Hallo,” said he.
“Hallo.” He looked strange; standing tall, almost one and a half my height, and had only one hand. His left eye was bruised, and his beard unshaven for almost half a year. In his only hand, he had a ring on each finger, thick rings, made of steel. He looked strong too.
“Komm, will mein Manager, Sie kennenzulernen.”
A week had rendered me useful in but one way, I now knew bits and pieces of their language. “in Ordnung,” I said.
The manager was strict, and a man who liked to speak to the point. “Sprechen Sie Deutsch?”
“Nein! Only little bit.”
“Then in English we must talk. Little bit I know English. We make comfort in that. Okay?”
“Cipher, you know? There is one. No one solves. Everyone foolish. I hear you good. Do it, and be free.”
“Okay.” So finally they give out why they keep me. Hah.