Ice Trilogy (68 page)

“I’m losing the border between worlds,” Merog answered. “Meat dreams are crawling in.”

“That’s only natural, brother Merog. Meat dreams crawl in when the meat begins to clot.”

“The meat is pressing on all worlds,” added Obu as he moved into the left lane. “Your heart is young, Merog. Place yourself on the Ice. Those meat dreams will fall away.”

Suddenly the Mercedes swayed. A flat tire knocked softly.

Obu moved into the right lane and pulled onto the shoulder.

Everyone sitting in the car looked back and forth tensely. Merog closed the suitcase, pulled out a pistol with a silencer from a sports bag. Tryv reached under the seat, picked up a short-barreled automatic, and released the safety.

Obu looked out the window.

“Both tires on the right. That’s no coincidence.”

“Are there two spares?” Merog asked.

“There are, thank the Light,” Obu answered, taking the automatic from Tryv. “Change the tires.”

And immediately got in touch with Dor.

“We’ve stopped. Two flats. It’s no accident. We need brothers.”

“I’m coming,” Dor answered.

“No! It’s dangerous. Your rear fender is bashed in.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“You’ll attract the meat.”

“I believe the heart, Obu. I’m coming to you.”

“Dor, we need brothers! The meat machines are coagulating. I
know this
.”

“I’m calling the shield.”

“It’s dangerous! The meat senses them. We need regular brothers!”

“I’ll call them.”

Tryv got out and set about changing the first tire. A Lincoln Navigator with a damaged fender passed and stopped about ten meters ahead. Obu lowered the tinted window. A white highway police Toyota with a blinking light and a siren drove up to the Mercedes. An overweight lieutenant with a puffy, unhappy face and an unlit cigarette in his plump hand saluted them.

“Now that’s the good life.”

Continuing to turn the jack, Tryv lifted his head.

“Hello.”

“Two at the same time? Wow! As they say, shit happens, even to a Mercedes. Need some help?”

“We’ll manage on our own, Lieutenant,” replied Merog instead of Tryv, lowering the dark window and holding his gun at the ready. “We have to deal with a shitload of this stuff nowadays!”

Obu, Merog, and Tryv laughed.

“You got that right.” The lieutenant grinned; patting his pockets, he yawned nervously. “Damn, where did I put i
t...
in the car as usua
l..
.”

He turned to shout to his partner, but Merog held a lighter out the window.

“Office
r..
.”

“Uh-huh.” The lieutenant leaned over and lit his cigarette. “Thanks. Well then, good luck.”

“You too.”

The lieutenant, puffing on his cigarette, got into the Toyota and drove off.

Merog closed his eyes for a moment and exhaled with relief.

“I have to rely on the Ice.”

“The Ice — is our altar. It provides balance. And the Light provides energy,” Obu spoke out.

“The Light provides energy,” Merog repeated, and closed his eyes again.

Tryv changed the tires.

The Mercedes drove on. Merog again opened the suitcase and carefully held the hand of the sleeping boy.

“The meat is strong. But there are limits to its strength. Meat is dangerous, brother Merog. But it doesn’t have any altar,” said Obu.

“Meat only craves and coagulates,” Tryv added, wiping his hands with a damp cloth.

“Because it senses that the end is near.”

“Because it feels that its end is near,” added Merog, carefully squeezing the boy’s senseless, cool fingers.

The Mercedes turned onto Kiev Highway toward Vnukovo Airport.

My heart
feels the presence of brothers.

And I leave my dream. Which I see constantly in recent years. A dream that helps me to sleep on the planet Earth. My
shining
dream. The dream that is always with me:

We are finally together, all, all, all of us down to the very last, we are nearing the Place, it’s already quite close, I see it, it emerges from the fog, it’s inevitable, it is so desired and unavoidable that I’m afraid I’ll lose consciousness at the last moment, and I hold, hold, hold on to the brothers and sisters, my arms embrace them, I am among them, in their dear, intimate crowd, I press close to them, I touch their bodies, which will soon dissolve into the Light, very soon; which will dissolve together with me, dissolve forever. I look into their faces, dear, close faces that have surrounded me all these decades, helping us to keep moving toward our
goal; I hear the beating of their hearts, the last blows of these meat motors hiding the Light, the Light intrinsic to us, the Light that we will all soon
become, the Primordial Light. The Light that does not allow us to perish on the frightful planet Earth, the Light that is very, very, very close.

Brother Mokho’s hand touches my face. I
recognize
and
recall
. And my body wakes up. I open my eyes. Brother Mokho and sister Tbo are standing at the head of my bed. They are excited. And I immediately
understand
why. They don’t have to speak any wretched, pitiful, Earth words: their hearts are shining
with joy
. My heart
quivers with the expectation of joy
. I listen to their hearts. My heart and I understand just what kind of joy. It is much older and stronger than the hearts of the brothers. But it hasn’t lost its ability
to quiver innocently with expectation
. My heart
trembles
. Just as it did back then, in the Alps, when I was a young girl. My chest bled. The Ice hammer shook it and awakened my young heart. The old man Bro
touched
my heart. He touched it so that it
began to tremble with the sweet expectation of the Light
.

I move my fingers. And lift my thin arms. I stretch them out to the brothers. My hands shake. Leaning over, Mokho and Tbo clasp my palms. And place them on their chests.

My heart
greets
their hearts.

Mokho and Tbo take the blanket off my body. It is woven from mountain grasses that extend the life of the flesh. My old body meets the air of Earth. This air is bitter and destructive.

Brothers Mef and Por, who help me every morning, enter. Their bodies are young and muscular. They exude strength and calm. The brothers’ strong hands lift my body. It is gaunt from earthly life. Withered from heart knowledge. Drained by the
absence
of the Gift of Search. A gift that only Bro and Fer possessed. A gift that allows
all to be found at once
. A gift that would not reveal itself to
just
me for these sixty years. Which I so
agonizingly
craved all my
true
life. For which my heart prayed
incessantly
. For which my brain raged. For which my blood boiled. For which my bones throbbed.

The brothers’ hands carry me into a spacious stone room. A blue basin awaits me. The brothers carefully place my feeble body in the warm basin. It fills with fresh cow’s milk. The milk gurgles and foams. It swallows my body. The brothers’ voices sound in the room. Each of them says something quietly. And each of them
remembers
my heart. Dozens, hundreds of voices join in an invisible din under the marble cupola. They are always with me. I
listen
to them. The voices ring. Every morning begins with this music for me.

I close my eyes.

And hang in space.

And see all of
ours
.

At this moment there are 21,368
.

Including me — 21,369.

In the world of meat machines the remaining 1,631 are being found. Their voices can’t be heard in the choir. I cannot
see
their hearts. They still await their awakening. They await their encounter with the Ice hammer. They wait for us.

Quickly giving me its warmth, the fresh milk leaves the basin. Mef and Por lift me. They wrap me in a sheet woven from choice linen. They sit down on two blue stones. The brothers’ fingers help my weak body rid itself of the reprocessed food of Earth. Then they wash me under an icy stream of mountain water. The crystal stream wakes me up. It retains the memory of the calm mountains.

And I begin to live.

Mef and Por carry me to the wardrobe. I sit on warm marble. I choose the dress for the day. My dresses are in various shades: from pale sky blue to dark royal blue. But the dresses are all identical.

I know
with my heart that today is a special day. I choose a silk dress of the purest sky blue. Sister Vikhe combs my completely gray, thinning hair with a turquoise comb. Sisters Niuz and Pe rub my body with sesame oil. Supported by the sisters’ arms, I stand up. And the dress envelops me. The sisters hold me under the arms. They lead me to a small, spherical room. It was carved from purple mountain stone. Water drips here, and there is a chalice of tea made from the grasses of the taiga waiting for me. It gives strength to my old body. In the mornings I stay in this room for 23 minutes. Sipping tea slowly,
I release
my heart. And concentrate with my mind. The purple sphere has forced me to remember the merciless world of Earth. I remember the language of meat machines, their customs and desires. Their gloomy work rises in me. It prepares me for further struggle.

After the purple sphere I begin work.

But today is a very special day. And a
special
job is imminent. The world of meat machines does not interest me. I walk into the Dining Hall. It is spacious and white. The windows are open. The sound of the tide reaches the Hall from the shore. The ocean we created beats nearby. Its roar reminds us of the Great Mistake. In the middle of the Dining Hall is a large round table made of lilac-colored stone. The Middle Circle fits around this table: 230 brothers and sisters.

I sit down at the table. Fruits and vegetables lie on it. Each morning all the brothers and sisters living with me in the house on the island sit around this table. Today they are here as well. I
see
their hearts.

Ga, Noro, Ret, Mokho, Tbo, Mef, Por, Vikhe, Niuz, Pe, Shey, Forum, Das, Ruch, Bi, O, Vu, Stam, On, Ut, Ze, and Iugom sit with me. But not to begin the meal as usual. They want to tell me something very important. They know what my heart
sweetly
guesses. About which I have dreamed again these last years. Which has
grown
in premonition. Which beats in the heart like a wave of light. And which we all craved deeply.

In the Dining Hall we all usually speak only in earthly language. So that our hearts are calm during the consumption of food. But this morning we don’t think about food. Brother Ga, my main assistant in this house, breaks the silence.

“Khram, he is already with the brothers.”

“I
know
this,” I answer, restraining my heart.

“The meat is coagulating.” Sister Shey shudders. “The meat is resisting the Brotherhood.”

“I
know
.”

“The meat is creating difficulties.” Forum looks
straight
at me.

“I
know
,” I replied, coping with a heart
flash
.

“The Brotherhood is fighting for him,” said Brother Vu. “He is on his way to us.”

“I
know
.”

“A shield protects him.”

“I
know
.”

“If the Light moves the meat aside, he will be with us here this evening,” said sister Ze.

She isn’t able to restrain herself. Her heart
flares
.

“I
know!
” I reply, blazing in response.

My powerful heart
flares
. It violates the strict order of the house. We
speak
with our hearts. We have been waiting too long. And many times our anticipation has come to naught. But this time, too, the hearts of all the inhabitants of the house only
believe
. But I —
know!
Because I
wanted it to be so!
I wanted
desperately
to know that this time everything would come true, would fall into place, would be established, everything would come together, come together, be launched, would merge: that the meat curtain would open, that the remaining, the lost, would be acquired, that the Great Circle would be closed. And hearts would shine. And muscle fibers would disintegrate. And bones would crack. And the brain would crumble. The chain of suffering would snap. And the Light would disperse, spreading atomic dust across the Universe.

The heart
didn’t know
anything else before.

The heart
doesn’t know
anything else now.

The heart
speaks
of what is most important.

We grow still around the round table.

Our hearts
blaze
.

Secret words
radiate
.
They flow
with the Primordial Light. There are exactly 23 of us in the house now. The Lesser Circle. The smallest of all. There are the Middle (230) and the Great (2,300), convened by the brothers at fateful moments. These are Circles of Support. And Decision. But today, the day of
anticipation
, there is a Lesser Circle. This is a Circle of Hope. Eight times we have
waited
. And our hope was not meant to be. The frightful world of Earth took the Most Important Hope away from us eight times.

Today we
hope
for the ninth time. With the Lesser Circle of Hope. By assembling it, we
know
that another six Lesser Circles have been formed by the Brotherhood. They are far away from here. The ocean divides us. In different countries six Lesser Circles have joined together. The brothers
feel
us. Their hearts
burn
with hope. I
see
all these Circles with my heart. Each of them.

I
speak
with them.

Forty-eight Earth minutes.

Our hearts
calm down
. Our hands separate. I open my mouth and with a full chest I exhale the bitter air of the ocean. The air above the Great Mistake. Which demands correction.