Akachi's room looked like a hospital bed after months of being discharged from the intensive care unit. His bed was a large chamber with life support equipment. The baby was born with a rare disease that was progressing through his body without any treatment or medicine being able to help.

  Adisa listened to her son's cries helplessly, not knowing if it was pain, hunger or the absence of his mother. He told the doctors that he would take care of his son, but that didn't happen. He only stayed at home for a short time. He was working on his doctorate. Akachi was cared for by two nurses who took turns twenty-four hours a day.

  Every time Adisa found her son in the life-support chamber and heard Akachi's high-pitched cry, it was like glass dust being thrown into her ears. It was torture, reminding him of his own impotence. Even though he was a great scientist and had a lot of money, he couldn't buy a cure for his son.

  The sound of crying invaded the office on the second floor. With her eyes reddening and the weight of her sleepless nights falling on her conscience, Adisa called the nurse on duty. The woman in the white and blue uniform came to the door and said:

  “Yes, Mr. Adisa, how can I help you?”

  “Why is he crying so much? Isn't he getting enough medication?”

  “Yes, Mr. Adisa, he is being medicated. However, the current active ingredients are not having the desired effect. The doctors are looking for new drugs and calculating the new dosage.”

  Adisa dropped everything on the table. The nurse took two steps back, startled by her employer's temper.

  “Please make him stop crying!”

  “But... sir, the poor thing is in pain. Too many painkillers at this age could affect his development...”

  “Never mind, do it now! I have to finish, ah!”

  The man slumped heavily in his chair. He didn't even hear the tearful nurse walk out the door.

  Adisa's hands unconsciously groped across the table to find a presentation card. He raised his eyes to the card, picked it up, smoothed the edge. The tip of his finger was cut. Blood dripped onto the table. He rubbed his temples. He got up from his chair. He went to the window, looked out at the silent street. He picked up the phone. He dialed the number.

  “Hello, Mr. Ojwang? This is Adisa, I'd like to speak to you and discuss that proposal.”

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  “Oh yes! A pleasure to hear your voice, Mr. Adisa, hohohoho.”

  ?

  Adisa had avoided that conversation over the years, but now he couldn't avoid it. To achieve greater results in his research, he would need the Spiritual Key of Faith. It was a daring plan and one with overlooked consequences. It was like shooting in the dark and hoping to hit the target.

  In her father's home, Adisa felt like an intruder about to steal the family treasures.

  “Dad, I need her...”

  “He hasn't spoken to me for years, and now he's asking me for the Spiritual Key of Faith? How old is he now, ten, twelve, who cares? Don't ask me for it.”

  Azekel turned his back on Adisa. His son's countenance and voice bore no resemblance to the boy he had raised alone after becoming a widower.

  “Even if it's to save your grandson's life?”

  His father rolled his eyes. That was a low blow. An opportunism that impressed even him.

  “Don't stoop so low, son. You've made a pact with the devil. Do you know what they say about Minister Ojwang? That he has relations with the underworld, negotiates with foreign nations and lobbies to increase his influence in politics.”

  “If that were true, the Circle of Sages would have taken action by now. You sages like power.”

  Azekel raised his hand to slap his son's face, but when he looked into his eyes, he saw an emptiness, a dullness, soulless like that of a machine.

  “I couldn't believe what you've become. You've renounced your position as Sage of the Faith. You've sided with Ojwang, and you've even turned your son into a poll. You are very cruel, my son.”

  The sage held out the sacred artifact to his son, not with resignation, but with self-sacrifice. His contempt for his son's choices was not hidden.

  “Not for you, but for my grandson.”

  Adisa turned and walked towards the door, without saying thank you or goodbye. She just turned her face towards her father. She rehearsed a few words, grunted something inaudible and shook her head. There was nothing more to be said.

  ?

  Adisa was happier with the results of the research than with the progress in her son's treatment. Alone in his room with Akachi, the boy stared at him. The ergonomic exoskeleton powered by the Divine Power of the Spiritual Key of Faith had brought amazing results. The pain had stopped, the sensitivity of the tissues had improved and even the patient's psychomotor skills had advanced. Akachi could already practice a few steps on the treadmill.

  What he didn't understand was his father's coldness and increasing distance from him.

  Their family relationship involved fights on Akachi's part and indifference on Adisa's. One used bad behavior to call out the other's behavior. One used bad behavior to get his father's attention, and the other used neutrality as self-defense.

  “Dad, what was Mom like? You promised to bring me a picture of her the other day.”

  Adisa continued to assess her son as if he were an object to be dissected. The surrounding team, aware of the situation, just carried out the routine procedures without intervening.

  “Look at me! I'm just a guinea pig for you, aren't I?”

  “Please stay still. Don't move around so much, you might interfere with the data...”

  “And when all this is over, huh? Are you going to take me to one of your conferences and show me off? What a great dad you are, father of the year! Mom must be so proud of you.”

  “That's enough! Take the spoiled patient away.”

  Akachi began to struggle on the bed. The other doctors began to restrain him. One of the nurses applied anesthetic to his neck. He collapsed with his eyes rolled back and his mouth dripping with drool.

  With a wave of her hand, Adisa ordered him to be removed. The bed was taken out of the room. The scientist took his wallet out of his pocket, opened it and took out his wife's photograph. She was there, eternalized in a moment, immortalized in all her youth. He smoothed the photo as if he were touching Furaha's face.

  “No, you wouldn't be proud of me now.”