Wind in the Hands (26 page)

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I’ll never leave you again.”

The Stranger told him with a smile:

“If you’d gone with us, we all would have been dead. You saved me with your decision. That was God’s will.”

“Is it true?” he asked looking into the Stranger’s face with doubt.

“It is. The Seer has a message for you: don’t shoot.”

“Ok. Is the Seer going to put on a show?”

“I’m not sure. He is tired and whacked to the wide. I’ll talk to him myself.”

“It’s dangerous, Stranger,” the Soldier said, but looked at his friend and added, “it’s difficult to become accustomed to all your tricks. I do not have enough faith.”

“It’s easier to rely on weapon, but it’s not better.”

“I got it. I won’t shoot. I’ll admire the ruins from above,” he whiffed and returned to the roof.

Nothing had changed: one of the observers was sleeping, the second one lied unconscious. The Soldier brought him round. The warrior of the desert vomited: it was concussion of brain. He hardly resisted crying of pain and fear. The Soldier brought water, let him drink and wiped with some cloth.

“Don’t be hurt. You’d better rejoice, your prophecy has become true. My friend, his name is Stranger, went through the death tunnel and your elders wanted to kill him for that.”

“Why did they want to kill him?” the observer asked jerkily trying to overcome the pain.

“Because he is unlike you,” the Soldier answered clicking the safety lock of the automatic rifle.

“One can’t be killed for this.”

“Not half he can be,” the Soldier smiled ironically.

The captain prayed devoutly and thanked God for the vision sent.

“Forgive my blindness, the God of the sky and the earth, the sea and the desert. I was up to no good against Your slave and you sent the heavenly messenger in the shining of Your glory to save him. Forgive our infidelity, mighty God. I shall wash away my guilt. If you want, take my life. If you want me to serve you, I am your slave. I shall find the Stranger and beg for forgiveness. I shall serve him and I shall persuade the brothers to bow him.”

The keepers woke up of the hypnotic stupor, kneeled and echoed the captain, stretching arms to the sky and exclaiming after his every phrase, “Let it be!”

“How do you feel?” the Stranger asked the Seer. “Can you go?”

“I can go, but I can’t run,” the Seer said smiling.

“They will catch us. Maybe we should let our friend open fire. I’m sure he will shoot all of them.”

“No. I’ll go out to them and talk. And you should leave.”

The Seer stopped for a moment listening to something.

“Go. You’ll be surprised, Stranger.”

“I’m hard to surprise.”

The Seer opened the wallet and gave him the piece of paper with address.

“Take it. She is waiting for you.”

The Stranger nodded and turned to the girl.

“You will go with the Seer. He needs help. And I am not alone,” the Stranger pointed up. The Bird thought that he spoke about the Soldier.

“Let’s go, baby. Don’t worry about him,” the Seer said.

The Stranger went down to the tunnel again. Three guardians were praying. Five warriors of the desert went in the combat formation: two foremen, two sidemen and one rear man. The Soldier saw the grenade attached to the belt of one the warriors. He aimed at it:

“If I hit it, two or three of them will be killed by the explosion, I can shoot the others, I have to do this now but they asked not to shoot.”

The Stranger assuaged his doubts. He spread his arms demonstrating that he was weaponless and moved towards the five guests.

“Who are you?” the kneed captain called.

The Stranger turned.

“I’m nobody. A slave of the God living.”

“Are you the Stranger?” the captain asked gingerly.

“It’s me.”

“Forgive me, Prince. We haven’t recognized you. Forgive us. We did as our fathers did.”

The Stranger remembered the words of the Seer. “Yes, you’re right. I’m surprised. You’re a sly one! I’m not ready for this development. I got out of the tunnel and the traps are still here.”

“Kneel up, please. I am blood and flesh. I am not the Prince. I am just a man as you are.”

The captain got to his feet. Five warriors came closer looking at the Stranger.

“This man passed through the Tunnel of Death, and I sinned against him. I wanted to kill the holy man, but a heavenly messenger appeared, three meters tall, in shining power and glory, with the sward like lightning in his hands and opened the door. Today the ancient prophesy has become true, brothers. It’s a big day. The liberation of the City starts from here and after all the whole world will become free from the dark powers,” his voice sounded solemnly.

The Stranger groaned in his mind. “Nice situation. If only they knew that the miraculous messenger was one meter sixty centimeters tall and his name was the Seer, they would kill me in a blink of an eye. How did he get the sword? It seems in the same way as three meters size.”

“Have you seen the heavenly messenger too?” one of the warriors asked the other keepers of the door.

“We haven’t seen him but we’ve heard his voice and fear hung upon us, after it we remember nothing.”

“Here, brothers, I was the only one to see the vision,” the captain said proudly. “And now we all place ourselves under orders of this man.”

The prospect of being the head of the terrorist organization surprised the Stranger even more.

“Good,” he answered serenely. “Now I should go. And your task is to guard the exit and not let anyone into the tunnel. I shall find you. But promise that you will keep the secret. My time hasn’t come yet.”

Without saying a word they bowed unto him. The Stranger quickly walked away.

The Soldier put gags in the observers’ mouths, tied them so that they were not able to move and went down to him stealthily.

“Let’s move out of here until they came to. Throw the weapon,” the Stranger said imitating the Soldier’s intonations.

Friends left the ruins, headed to the nearest neighborhood, stopped the taxi and drove to address written on the card.

Chapter 40. Divine reed pipe

The Chief of the security service received a hot report: somebody has passed the test of the warriors of desert. That meant that the events got out of control. The riots that had such a trump card are certain to violate the peace treaty. Disturbances will arise, while his agency aims at crushing opposition and acts of protest in the egg. Description of a man who passed through the tunnel made him shudder, and in a few minutes, another message came, the one from a personal agent, very close to the warriors of desert. The message contained just a single word. The Chief lost control completely. However, there was nobody to blame, he overlooked the affair despite the Seer’s warning. People kind and fair are everywhere, they are sure to report his incompetence.

The Chief fussed over how to solve the situation without loss. To present the matter as a planned operation, with the Stranger being a well-placed agent, who had a mission to destroy a dangerous religious order? Then the question arises, how could he pass through the Tunnel of death? There are some versions: There is no, and never has been, death in the tunnel. He did not pass through it at all. The Stranger is a hypnotist none the worse than the Seer, he made them think that he entered the tunnel and went out. The versions are raw, they will fail a thorough test, yet the commission is unlikely to be formed to investigate the affair. Now, it is important to keep a wary eye on what is happening in the City, to contact the Stranger, and then, maybe, everything is to turn up trumps. The Chief immediately made all necessary arrangements.

The Stranger was regarding with curiosity the streets of the City out of the window of the taxi. He has not set foot on its pavements and squares for many years. The lines recurred to him:

And clouds are floating above the City,

Covering the sky-blue color,

And above the town there’s a yellow smoke,

The City is two thousand years old,

Lived through under the light of the star

Called Sun…

And there’s a war over two thousand years,

A war without special causes.

A war the work of the youth,

A medicine against wrinkles…

And we know that it has always been like this,

That we like more the destiny

Who’s living according to other rules

And who’s doomed to die young.

He doesn’t remember the word “yes“ and the word “no“,

He doesn’t remember neither the deeds, nor the names.

And able to reach the stars,

Not reckoning that this is a dream,

And falling, scorched by the star called Sun…

A waft of the Wind appeared, then, the words were speaking of something important. The Stranger asked the driver to stop the car.

“We were right to get out here, it would be silly to take the wraps off the address,” the Soldier approved.

“Do you understand that I am not associated with the ancient prophecies?” the Stranger asked.

“You have passed the Tunnel of Death! Only the Man of God was able to do that.”

“I know two people who can feel traps, and there are many not familiar to me! If a man has time reserved to live and die, nothing will happen to him before. You know this better. However, one must not tempt fate or play with death. First, you never know your fate, and second, you violate the law of value of life when put your life in the line. Yes, I have passed the Tunnel of Death, but I was supported. God hindered me from falling down. Perhaps, I am to do something more important.”

“Whatever the case, only the chosen one could pass the Tunnel. As for me, I wouldn’t be able to pass, though I checked my abilities with a revolver bullet. Do not be surprised, I’ll tell you. A six-shooter, with one bullet in the cylinder, rotate several times not to know where it is. Then I put the revolver to the chin, call for silence and feel… If all is well, I move the trigger. If not, shoot the gun in the air. I was young and silly then, wanted to hit fancy of the friends and women, and needed money, of course.”

“Never mistaken?” the Stranger smiled.

“As you can see. And you know what? Your deed will affect everybody, especially, the warriors of desert,” the Soldier uttered confidently.

“This is what I’m afraid most of all. People like miracles. An especial kind of entertainment they are willing to have every day. I am not the Seer, who can impress on a man that he is eating watermelon instead of onion, and I cannot catch one’s imagination. My power does not belong to me; I speak and do not on my behalf.”

“And what about the Seer? Wasn’t it God who gifted him?”

“I don’t know. However, I feel it is something different, some other spirit. He has suffered sleepwalking since childhood, could warn of disasters, hear thoughts, find lost things, and control both his own will and the will of others. The Seer can manage his power, but I cannot. It is hard to imagine that God can help to find an object hidden by a spectator for a laugh of the audience. And whether one could question it?”

“Well then, who helps him?”

“Every person has some or other inborn abilities, some people improve their skills, some other laze away or they merely don’t know how to develop them. This is like training a body. One waters building up physique for years. Another inherits the power, if you prefer, genetically, so he has not to turn himself inside out, and some other resort to doping, which gives immediate result and bad consequences. However, eventually, without training, abilities will tarnish.”

“I see…” the Soldier nodded. “We are in the City at last. It seems to me that not three days passed but a lifetime. Do you know, what’s next?”

“I haven’t the slightest idea. I’d like to rest a little, take a shower and nap.”

“We will come soon. The Seer is waiting for us.”

“The Bird is waiting for me.”

“What a bird?”

“The girl we took along with us. I have called her the Bird.”

“Like a song about a bird,” the Soldier gave a wink.

“A bird is so anxious to fly!

That bird has a mother with wings,

That bird has a father with wings,

But it cannot fly as if had no mind,

It cannot fly, nothing more…”

“Not exactly:

A needless person in the street

Was seeking love obstinately.

I left the matter for the end,

I told myself again:

Nothing to fight for,

Nothing to share,

This is the thing

Useless be angry

Over there

I am a bird…”

“Why does this song reflect the essence?” the Soldier laughed.

“Remember something:

The fire stank not far away,

A crane was falling down soft,

The stars were spiting, the liftman

Found out the truth…

The roofs could see sunset afar,

The walls remembered awful war,

But I am happy, I am glad,

That someone happy…”

“The fire stank,” the Soldier took thought. “The Seer also paid attention to some fire.”

“That’s a given. Rhymes like dreams: sometimes worthless, but can be prophetic. Information can be transferred in many ways, including rhymes. Poets, the people with delicate psyche, can catch heavenly signals to translate them into words. A wise man said: “I understood that poets create poetry not through wisdom, but through especial spirit and inspiration: they, like prophets, utter beautiful things not seeing the point”.

“Tell me, why do gifted poets, so called divine reed pipes, not only poets, but also some other dowered people die young?”

“Precious wine can be poured both in a golden cup and in a plastic glass. The glass is throwaway, while the cup is too expensive to discard.”

“How to define, who is made of gold and who is plastic?”

“By behavior. The plastic glass raises a big smoke,” the Stranger smiled. “A carrier of important information takes great risks if his lifestyle is not worthy of revelations. To whom more is committed, from him more is required. The chosen ones always bear risks: they are between a rock and a hard place. God is merciful, while people are not in the least.”