Disappeared Horizon

Author: (English) James Hilton
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-06-01
Features: The cigar gradually approached the end, and we began to experience a sense of disillusionment. Years later, when old classmates and friends reunited, they found that there was much less resonance between them than they had imagined. This made everyone feel a bit sad and lost. Rutherford was a writer; Verlinden worked as a secretary at the embassy, and he had just taken us to dinner at the Tepekhov Hotel. I felt the atmosphere wasn't very lively, it was quite calm. He always maintained the composure expected of a diplomat in such situations. The scene seemed to be just three single British men meeting by chance in the capital of a foreign country. From our conversation, I discovered that the arrogance I had once felt in Verlinden Tessel years ago had not vanished with the passage of time; he still remained as arrogant as a royal Victorian lord. In comparison, I preferred Rutherford. He had become very mature and was no longer the thin, somewhat precocious boy he used to be. I remember that back then, I sometimes bullied him and at other times protected him with a sense of benevolence. Now he must have made a lot of money and was living a richer and more colorful life than us, which made both me and Verlinden a bit envious. However, that evening wasn't too dull. When the planes flying from Central Europe landed on the ground, we enjoyed watching these huge Lufthansa aircraft. As evening approached, the arc lamps lit up, illuminating the airport brilliantly, creating a dazzling scene, as if we were in a magnificent theater. From one of the British planes, a pilot got off. He was wearing a full set of aviation gear and walked leisurely to our table, greeting Verlinden. At first, Verlinden didn't recognize him. When he remembered, he introduced this stranger to all of us and invited him to join our gathering. He was a very cheerful young man named Sanders. Verlinden apologized, saying it was hard to recognize him when he was fully dressed in aviation gear and wearing a helmet. Sanders smiled and replied, "Oh, indeed. I'm very aware of that. Don't forget, I was in Basqueul." Verlinden smiled too, but it didn't look very natural, and then we changed the subject. Sanders' presence enlivened our gathering. Everyone drank a lot of beer. Around ten o'clock, Verlinden left for a while to talk to someone at a nearby table. Rutherford suddenly changed the subject and asked, "Oh, by the way, you mentioned Basqueul earlier. I know a bit about this place. Did you mean something happened there?" Sanders smiled awkwardly and said, "Oh, when I was serving there, I experienced something a bit exciting." After all, he was still a young man and couldn't keep the secret tightly, so he couldn't help but say, "Here's what happened: an Afghan or someone from somewhere else hijacked one of our passenger planes. You can imagine the trouble that followed. This is the most despicable thing I've ever heard! That shameless fellow intercepted our pilot, knocked him unconscious, put on his aviation gear, slipped into the cockpit unnoticed, and even sent correct signals to the ground navigation staff, then took off smoothly and left without a fuss. The problem is, he never came back." Rutherford seemed very interested in this. "When did this happen?" P3-5