— Nussier, it's Said! Two soldiers just came to see me. I know one of them; we play football together sometimes. What's going on with you? They've turned the whole port upside down! Who are they looking for?

  To Nusiere's surprise, he felt a sense of relief upon hearing a familiar voice. Clarity returned immediately, along with the realization that not everything was lost.

  — Everything is quiet here. I have a sergeant with me, assigned to me in case the fugitive returns. What did the soldiers tell you? Did they find him? — Nussier looked up at the sergeant.

  — They found his colleague, Sebastian. As I understand it, they are looking for someone named John, but so far without success — Said replied.

  "Who is Sebastian? So John wasn't alone? I don't understand anything!" — Nussier thought quickly. He covered the receiver with his palm and relayed Said's words to the sergeant. The sergeant nodded and relaxed as he straightened up.

  — That's good. So they'll find this John too. Are you okay? Are you still at the port? — Nussier continued.

  — Yes, everything is fine. I'm still here, but I'll be going home soon.

  — By the way, I heard that one of the four cranes is out of order. The one farthest from the shore. That must complicate the loading and unloading. I hope it’s not your doing? — Nussier artificially laughed into the phone. He realized that this was his only chance to arrange a meeting between Said and John. Although he didn’t know if John had made it to the port, or even if he was alive… the sense of duty was something Nusier prioritized above all else. That’s how his father had raised him. And such a coded message seemed to him the best solution. Moreover, he knew well the meticulousness of his friend Said, who believed that everything should be in order.

  — Not at all, I'm not aware of that. How do you know? And when did it break? No one told me anything... — Said replied, surprised.

  — One guest mentioned that he was specifically called here for repairs. Apparently, it's something serious. You'd better find out, or else you'll be loading some tanker by hand, like last year...

  — Thank you! I will definitely check. Yes, last year was really tough; I even had three workers end up in the hospital from exhaustion — Said complained.

  — Well, it was great to hear from you! I hope to see you soon.

  Nusyer hung up the phone and looked at the sergeant standing in front of him. Once he was sure that the man had found nothing, the concierge let out a sigh of relief.

  Above the line of the sea horizon, a perfect semicircle of the fiery orb protruded, slowly sinking in the last minutes of daylight. The Earth was completing yet another rotation, granting the Sudanese a respite from the relentless star. The unbridled heat graciously retreated from its peak, descending to a comfortable twenty degrees. The sky noticeably emptied, and its local inhabitants, the seagulls, prepared for the night, choosing high points on land. The warm sea breeze, mingled with the scent of fuel oil, served as a reminder of being in a port city, yet still an environmentally clean one. From various distant corners of the settlement, the barking of dogs and the "music" of the evening prayer could be heard.

  John and Maurice stood on the deck of the "Samum," silently watching "Timon" and "Pumba." Below, the local dockworkers continued to wander about in their usual chaotic manner. John reflected on how smoothly everything was going for him and sought some pattern in these events. The vendor of flatbreads lingered in his mind; he was eager to believe in any signs, even the most absurd ones. After the incredible incident he had experienced, he was ready to believe in any kind of mysticism.

  — Yes, Maurice... At this rate, you won't finish loading by the end of the week! — John began the conversation, deliberately surveying the pier.

  — What do you suggest? — he replied irritably.

  — We need to appoint two seniors. One for the cargo release area, and the other for distribution in the ship's holds. And we should set up a live conveyor, similar to that — John pointed with his hand at the loading of the bulk carriers.

  — Do you think I haven't considered that option, smart guy?! How can I find someone senior among them? They're all at the level of elementary school students — Maurice scoffed.

  — You're wrong about that. Look: do you see that nimble guy who's teasing everyone and giving out advice? He has all the qualities! Give me ten minutes, and I'll sort everything out. I promised to help you! — John replied cheerfully.

  — Go ahead! — Maurice waved his hand without any enthusiasm. — It can't get any worse.

  John quickly descended the stairs, calling over the "businesslike" loader. Meanwhile, Maurice pulled out a pack of Philip Morris, leaned against the deck railing, and lit a cigarette. He eagerly anticipated the failure of John's plan, doubting that anyone could manage these goofballs. However, the anticipation of his new acquaintance's failure quickly dissipated. Maurice watched in surprise as John swiftly conversed with the future commander of the loaders and handed him something.

  "Did he really pay him?!" Maurice muttered. "Unbelievable! Why would he do that? Does he really want to keep his promise so badly?" In less than five minutes, the movers transformed into an organized team, efficiently and quickly taking their positions, and everyone began to work. Soon John was climbing up the ship's gangway with the new foreman of the dockworkers, animatedly discussing something and laughing.

  — Everything is fine. They need about two hours to finish the work — he said calmly, waiting for a dose of admiration from Maurice. The worker who accompanied him up the gangway proceeded further onto the ship to tidy up the cargo reception area.

  — Well, you really did it, Sebastian! How quickly you got everything sorted out. How much money did you give him? — exclaimed Maurice.

  — It's not important. You helped me, I helped you. The most important thing in our lives is honesty — John smiled and patted Maurice on the shoulder.

  — Thank you! You promised to share your story and surprise me…

  — I'll tell you everything. I just need to get to that crane over there; they should be waiting for me there — John pointed to the massive loading crane that was half a kilometer away from them. — You can come with me...

  — But I can't just leave the ship like that. I need to oversee everything here.

  — Don't worry, everything will be done perfectly here! Besides, you can leave someone in your place. Trust me, I won't be here tomorrow, and you'll be telling my story as a tale to your grandchildren.

  — You've intrigued me! I need five minutes.

  Maurice moved deeper into the ship, while John stayed on deck to observe the results of his work. From above, he watched the coordinated efforts of the Sudanese dockworkers and once again realized that a simple conversation could solve any problem. John immersed himself in memories and tried to reconstruct the sequence of events that seemed unusual to him. "Two boys in Dhaka who clearly stood out from the crowd. A series of very fortunate events today. What are the odds of meeting Nusiér, who turned out to be Alayd's brother, whose jalabiya was given away by the first old man we encountered... And the most incredible was the flatbread seller! His gaze was so deep... He surely knew something! What am I supposed to find at the port?"

  If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

  — I left someone to oversee the loading. We can go — came Maurice's voice from behind him. John slowly turned to the Frenchman.

  — Are those shoes straight off the runway? — joked Maurice, pointing at John's holey sneakers.

  — Ah! From Yves Saint Laurent — John replied with a smile. "Good thing he agreed to go with me. He'll be able to confirm my identity if anything happens..." he thought.

  The sun had completely disappeared beyond the horizon, and twilight was gradually taking over. Maurice and John descended the gangway to the shore and, using the cargo cranes as a landmark, set off on their way.

  — Maurice, thank you once again for your help! I would have been lost without you!

  — No need to mention it... I helped you, you helped me. It's all fair! Besides, I'm always happy to meet a stranger who speaks beautiful French, even with an accent! So who are you, Sebastian from Australia? What brought you to Sudan?

  — Actually, I'm John. And I'm from the USA. Boston.

  — What do you mean?! Why did you lie to me? — Maurice stopped and looked at John in astonishment.

  — I introduced myself to the soldiers like this. To make sure they didn't suspect anything, I told them my name was Sebastian. Because... well, it's a long story. But believe me, I'm telling the truth now. In that situation, I had no other choice.

  — I really hope so. Although I don't care what your name is. You haven't done anything bad to me, and you don't raise any suspicions. I know how to read people.

  — Tell me, where are you from? What do you do on this ship? — John quickly changed the subject. He knew that the best way to gain someone's trust was to listen to their story. Everyone loves to talk about themselves. And Maurice was no exception; in fact, he was a vivid embodiment of this principle. Anticipating his story, Maurice pulled out a pack of cigarettes and kindly offered John one.

  — Oh! I won't say no! — John pulled out a cigarette and held it under his nose, greedily inhaling the scent of tobacco. Lighting their cigarettes, the travelers continued on slowly, at a leisurely pace. It was as if old friends had met in the park after a long separation.

  — I'm from the city of Lille. I work as a senior researcher. By profession, I'm a seismologist. The job is just okay... But the pay is decent, so that's why I'm here — Maurice began enthusiastically.

  — Lille? I've never been there. I was in Paris, though, just for one day. It's a beautiful city — he tried to catch John's interest. — So, why did you choose this profession?

  — I didn't really have much of a choice. In school, I was only interested in football. But it wasn't meant for me to play professionally; I just didn't have the talent. Besides, the competition is fierce. So after school, I enrolled at Paris-Saclay University, where two of my friends went. That's where I actually got my degree.

  — How did you end up on the vessel? What are your responsibilities? What do seismologists do?

  — My team and I are searching for oil and gas deposits on the seabed. And I ended up here in quite an interesting way! Let me tell you the whole backstory...

  Maurice had finally warmed up to John and began a detailed account of his life. Since he seemed to love talking very much, he started from the age of five, describing his childhood in Lille. He animatedly recounted his school years, the football games, and how they used to run away from the Belgians, his strict father, and how his mother passed away from cancer when he was sixteen. He spoke of wild student parties, how he almost got expelled from his second year, his first love, then his second "first" love, the birth of his son, how he loves his hometown, but would live in Paris... Maurice spoke very emotionally, no less than an Italian, as he recounted his story with gestures. In just ten minutes, he vividly described most of his life. In general, he shared everything except how he ended up on the ship.

  Without noticing how time had flown by, they approached the first crane, behind which stood three more of its "twins." These were majestic structures that inspired admiration for engineering ingenuity. They resembled four gigantic giraffes made of steel, but with disproportionately large "legs" for a giraffe. Maurice had no intention of finishing his story, paying no attention to those giants. Only after passing the first two cranes did he stop and ask:

  — John, why did we come here?

  — I hope we'll find out soon, Maurice. You never told me how you ended up on the ship.

  — Ah! A friend of mine worked on a Norwegian vessel, and they had a vacancy. That's how I ended up with this job.

  — Is that it? So simple? — John asked in surprise, not understanding the purpose of this detailed recounting of the Frenchman's entire life.

  — Well, yes. He offered it to me, and I agreed. At that time, I thought it was a very interesting and exciting job! I probably talk too much. Tell me about yourself. How do you know French?

  — I studied at the faculty of linguistics. I speak French, German, Arabic, and English, respectively. A little bit of Chinese as well. Although I have never worked in my field, my language skills have been quite useful in my situation…

  — Yes... You never know when certain knowledge will come in handy. What situation are you talking about? Do you travel a lot?

  — Recently, it's been quite a lot — John smiled. — We're almost there.

  In this part of the port, there were hardly any people, just a few workers scattered about. But near the last crane, a man was bustling around. Spotting John and Morris, he began to wave at them.

  — Greetings! — shouted the stranger. — You must be here about this crane?

  John and Maurice exchanged puzzled glances.

  — I don't know what's going on with the faucet here. But I have someone waiting for me. I need a certain Said. Do you know him? — John interjected.

  — I am Said. But I came to check the malfunction of this rusty wreck! — he replied, kicking the faucet with his foot.

  — Thank God! That means Nussier was able to reach you! What a champ! — John exclaimed joyfully as he jumped over to Said.

  — Yes. Nussier called me and informed me about the malfunction of this crane. And that's all!

  — John! My name is John! Nusier said that you are his friend and that you can help me hide in the port! I hope he is doing okay?

  — John… — Said's eyes widened in horror. He stepped back when he heard the name of the person the soldiers were searching for. Said frantically started looking around, wanting to call for help, but saw no one.

  — Did the military look for you at the port?! You're a criminal! — Said pronounced with disdain.

  — Wait, wait, wait! I'm not a criminal! Yes, the military is looking for me, but it's a misunderstanding! I'll explain everything. What did Nusier tell you?

  — I don't want to know anything! I don't need any problems!

  Having uttered these words, Said quickly dashed towards the port. John immediately reacted and took off after him. Maurice could only shrug and remained standing in place, frozen in surprise. Said took off just as fast as Usain Bolt, and John could only see his shining heels through the dust. "Fast son of a bitch!" John thought to himself as he picked up speed. The sprinters crossed the first hundred meters with an equal lead, but soon Said began to look back and lose speed. John, noticing this, pushed himself harder and within a few seconds was just a few meters away from his prey. Said could hear his opponent's breath on his back and started to finally give in. Closing the distance, John lunged with his right leg and struck at Said's rapidly moving feet.

  The Sudanese man lost his balance and "dove" onto the concrete surface, kicking up a cloud of dust. John stopped, breathing heavily, and first checked the sleeve where the money was hidden. "All there," he exhaled.

  — Don't touch me! I didn't do anything! — the defeated Said lay on the ground, covering his face with bloodied, torn hands.

  — Calm down! I won't harm you. I'm not a criminal! Where did you learn to run so fast? — John replied, catching his breath.

  — What do you want from me? — the "victim" continued in a pitiful voice.

  — Give me all your money, your wife, and your kids! — John joked in a menacing voice.

  — Whaaat?!

  — I'm just joking! I don't need anything from you. Just tell me what Nusyer passed on to you.

  John reached out to the frightened Sudanese man, who clearly did not appreciate the joke. After a few seconds, he regained his composure, calmed down, and extended his blood-stained hand. Said got to his feet, lifted his cap, and began to brush himself off. He resembled a dog cornered by a pack of wolves. Said was an ordinary hard worker who diligently did his job and didn’t try to “reach for the stars.” He belonged to that category of people who live a quiet, measured life, believe everything the government tells them, are content with what they have, and most importantly — do not allow themselves to dream… And of course, the worst thing that could happen to him would be to break the law.

  — Nussier told me over the phone that the fourth faucet is broken. He even mentioned that they sent some specialist to fix it. He also said that a sergeant was left with him, apparently to guard him from you... — Said spoke with clear disdain towards John. — But it seems the faucet is fine. At least, it looks perfectly functional from the outside. It's unclear why he made all this up.

  — Now I understand everything. Nussier wanted you to help me. But I won't try to convince you of that... and it doesn't matter now anyway — John said thoughtfully.

  — Don't tell me any fairy tales, I still don't believe you! Can I go? My family is waiting for me at home.

  — Yes, of course! Sorry about your hands.

  Said waved his hand, cursed, and strode quickly towards his port.

  — What's wrong, John? Why did you upset the poor guy? — asked a breathless Maurice, who had just arrived at the scene.

  — I don't even know what came over me. Instinctively, I ran after him, since he could turn me in to the military. Most likely, that's exactly what he'll do as soon as he gets to a phone. We can't stay here for long — John replied, sitting down on the curb. — Let's take a smoke break and head back to the ship.

  — Who was that?