"What are you referring to?"
"This dream."
rkel looked around. It was a neat and tidy doctor's office. It was identifiable not only because Shiller, who was standing in front of him, was wearing a white coat, but also because of the many dical records next to Shiller, the anatomical diagrams hanging on the wall, and a diagnostic bed next to the room.
This place felt very real. It was identical to most of the offices of doctors that rkel had seen. The images and words on the anatomical diagrams were clearly visible. The reflected light from the tal legs of the diagnostic bed mirrored the color of the floor tiles. All the details in here were impeccably real, nothing like a dream.
Just now, rkel had witnessed that absurd scene in the banquet hall, experiencing the terrifying dark tide and dazzling light. As a staunch materialist, his common sense told him that such things wouldn't happen in reality. So, it must be a dream.
The only question was, how did Shiller create such a realistic yet absurd dream, and how did he bring people into this dream?
rkel felt that figuring out these questions was now much more important than his original mission objective. As far as he knew, human research on brain consciousness and dreams was still rudintary, so this would be highly valuable intelligence.
"Haven't you already experienced it?"
"Are you referring to that bottle of wine?"
Shiller nodded and continued, "Of course, the problem also lies here."
He pointed to his head and said to rkel, "You should understand that consciousness and dreams are the products of the human brain. You must have a sufficiently intelligent brain to have enough capacity to run a large and realistic dream."
"...Brain developnt?" rkel seed to have thought of sothing.
"It seems that you're not just a low-level agent providing information to the Soviet Union. You should also be aware of so Soviet intelligence."
rkel imdiately clamd up and regretted in his heart, feeling like he'd been baited into saying too much by Shiller.
Shiller shook his head and said, "No need to be tense. I'm more aware of how far this topic has been researched and how far it can be researched in the future."
"...To what extent?"
"At a stage of no progress."
rkel moved his lips, seemingly wanting to argue, but he was afraid that he would leak more information. So he said to Shiller, "It seems that you haven't answered my question."
"I did answer. The answer is the wine combined with my brain. There is nothing else."
"I know you're considering how to take that wine, or even thinking about how to take my brain..."
"But I advise you not to do so, as either object individually researched might result in a disaster."
"We aren't afraid of any disasters."
Shiller opened his mouth, but he found nothing to say to rkel's answer, leaving him to say:
"Now it's my turn to ask the second question. What is your mission objective?"
rkel frowned. He hadn't expected Shiller to ask directly. He thought they should at least fence around the topic for a couple of rounds.
But this actually reassured him a bit. It seed that his impression of Shiller having changed was rely an illusion.
"I'm tracking an agent."
"Who is he?"
"That's our internal matter."
"Why are you tracking him?"
"Because he has been missing for a long period."
Shiller flipped the pen in his hand and looked at rkel, "You're telling the truth. But it's only part of the truth."
"You want to find the man who may have taken the Philby List, right?"
rkel's pupils contracted sharply. He frowned deeply and tried to maintain his composure. He wanted to deny it, but his reason told him that since Shiller had ntioned "Philby List," it ant he knew quite a bit.
"Where did you hear that na?"
"Is that your next question?"
"...Yes."
"Now, my body is in the tropolitan Mayor's Mansion. There's been an accident here just now, and I won't go into details about what happened. But a group of agents have sealed off the place."
"Just now, their leader announced sothing in the banquet hall. He claid that among the participants, there was a Soviet spy who had taken the Philby List. Until this spy was found, the agents would not let us leave."
rkel's face darkened at once. He could no longer control his expressions. The anxiety inside him was written all over his face.
"Who is he? Where is he now?"
"I don't know." After getting Shiller's reply, rkel was still staring at him, and all Shiller could do was lightly tap on the table with his pen and say, "How can I know what even the CIA agents aren't sure about?"
"Alright, I'll ask the last question and clarify your final doubt. Then, I'll return your consciousness to your body."
Shiller looked into rkel's eyes and asked:
"Why is the Philby List so important?"
rkel pursed his lips, hesitating whether or not to share the answer with Shiller. If Shiller was an enemy, understanding the significance of the list might spur him to assist the CIA in assassinating the Soviet agent who holds it.
He replayed the details of his interactions with Shiller in his mind. He had to admit that Shiller was a peculiar individual, unlike any conventional Arican, or even any Englishman or European. His way of thinking was unfathomable.
Judging his ideology, let alone his beliefs, was next to impossible in the face of such a person.
In the past, rkel would have deed his lack of intelligence on Shiller a failure on his part. But now, he held onto a self-deceptive hope that perhaps, Shiller might not wholly side with the CIA and might be persuaded to help.
Eventually, he chose to speak:
"Perhaps you've heard it said, leading up to his defection from England, between 1962 and 1963, Philby underwent nurous investigations. It was an incredibly risky ti, and even for high-ranking Philby, safety was far from guaranteed."
"Philby once held a significant position in Section 5 of British Military Intelligence (MI6), and was also the director of the ninth departnt in charge of Soviet intelligence work. I'm sure you understand what that implies."
"The ninth departnt was responsible for intelligence on the Soviet side, and yet their director was one of ours."
"Throughout his career, Philby gathered a vast amount of intelligence. At the sa ti, his job included tracking down potential Soviet spies infiltrated into other countries. With his position's influence, he protected many of our comrades, ensuring the smooth execution of their work."
"Simultaneously, he was privy to the identities of many foreign agents and spies infiltrated into the Soviet Union. If you're familiar with spy operations, you'd know that espionage is a two-way street. It's not solely the Soviets attempting to gather intelligence as the Western countries claim."
"In Philby's position, the information he held was terrifying, with the most critical being the identities of Soviet spies and those from other countries."
"Facing severe investigation, Philby was uncertain of his safe return to the Soviet Union. Nevertheless, he desired the information he held to be passed on to the Soviets."
"However, every move he made was watched very closely. Investigators were keen to find evidence of his guilt from his behavior. Philby knew he couldn't directly communicate with Moscow, so he had to devise a more discreet thod."
"Hence, the Philby List."
rkel sighed, placing his intertwined hands on the table. He said, "The list records all the identities of Soviet spies and those from other nations that Philby had access to."
"You should understand how important that is."
"So, the CIA wishes to secure this list because it potentially contains nas of their implanted agents. Even though decades have passed, confirming so of these identities could lead to others."
"All intelligence agencies share this thinking. They wouldn't want their rivals, or even their teammates, to get their hands on this list. It could be potentially devastating to their intelligence networks in certain regions."
"What is this discreet thod of moving the list you are speaking of?"
Having co this far, rkel saw no reason to hold back. He said, "It is the oldest thod, finding soone you trust to give the list to and then have them bring it back to Moscow."
"But it ultimately fails."
"No, it did succeed in a way. Although the plan didn't work out, Philby managed to evade the investigation and safely returned to Moscow, all the information stored in his head."
"So you're saying, the Soviets already have the information?"
rkel sighed, "Exactly why other nations are desperate to find this list. They are already in a disadvantage. Over the years since Philby's return to Moscow until his death, Western countries have faced defeat upon defeat in their intelligence operations, and that's largely because of Philby's influence."
"They wish to use the list to turn the tables?"
rkel shook his head, "Not exactly. They simply need sothing to fall back on."
He gestured with one hand, "The information contained within Philby's brain and what's recorded on the Philby List are likely very similar."
"As long as they can obtain the Philby List, and prove the detailed information it holds can cause imnse damage, they can then attribute the failures in their intelligence operations over the years to Philby and those who failed to prosecute him."
Shiller understood instantly. What rkel ant was that those desperately searching for the list were doing so to prove their adversaries were too strong, not that they were weak.
As long as they found the list, with recorded spies' detailed information, they could argue that they'd been fighting with their cards on the table and had no chance of winning from the start. This would absolve them of the failures of their intelligence operations over the years.
"But why now?" Shiller asked.
rkel shook his head, signifying he didn't know. But Shiller understood. Needing to pass the buck, the CIA didn't need to wait for a specific mont. Or rather, passing the buck was their primary task.
"Alright, you can ask one final question, and then we can end this dream state."
rkel remained silent for quite so ti. Just as Shiller was about to prompt him, he t Shiller's gaze and asked in a raspy voice:
"Have you read 'The Communist Manifesto'?"
Shiller took a long pause, then stood and moved to the window. Looking out onto the void, he said softly:
"You know, the CIA's agents are right outside my door. All I need to do is wake up at this mont and tell them you asked this question. You wouldn't survive this winter."
"I know..."
Shiller turned around, noticing a brightness in rkel's eyes, brighter than the sun that had previously graced the apex of the High Tower.
"But I don't care."
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