Рами Юдовин – Wind in the Hands (страница 3)

“What sort of a talent do I have,” the Soldier was staring at this latter-day preacher open-eyed.

“Your intuition, good grasp of the situation and all that without any background. But your capabilities are within the narrow world of first person shooters, and that's why you are in worm digging,” the companion looked away.

“These shooters rescued many lives,” the Soldier was appearing calm but his voice betrayed poorly concealed rage.

“While you rescued some people, you brought death to others. This is not the best solution.”

“I have rescued my people by destroying the enemy who has been dreaming of killing us all,” the Soldier believed he was saying the universal truth.

“There are no my or other races, peoples and tribes in the world of peace and justice.”

“What country do you mean? I do not care about other customs. I haven't heard about this country in the news. Where is it?”

“There is no such country on the Earth, but its laws have reached us. If you want to get there, you will have to live here following its rules.”

“I see. You mean life after death. Do you seriously believe that? Who cares for us there…”

“Yes, I do. Let me tell you a funny story:

Two twin would-be babies are talking inside a pregnant woman. One of them is a believer, while the other is a non-believer. The non-believer baby asks,

‘Do you believe in life after birth?’

‘Yes, I do. We are here to get ready to live after birth,’ answers the believer baby.

‘But it is impossible! There is no life after birth! Can you imagine that other life?’

‘I don't know the details, but I believe that we will have more light and we will be able to walk and eat with our own mouths.’

‘That's absolute crap! You cannot walk on your legs or eat with your mouth! That’s so absurd! We have an umbilical cord, which feeds us. Listen to me, life after birth cannot exist because our life is our umbilical cord and we will die without it.’

‘I am sure it is possible. Just everything will be slightly different.’

‘But no one has returned! Our life just ends with birth. And generally life is enormous suffering in the dark.’

‘Oh, no! I am not sure what this life is going to be but we will see our mother in any case and she will take of us.’

‘You are speaking about mother? Do you believe in mother? And where is she then?’

‘She is all around us; we are inside her and can move and live owing to her. We cannot exist without her.’

 ‘That’s nonsense! I have never seen the mother and it means that she just doesn’t exist.’

  ‘But you have the inner knowledge of the mother. You know this word, can imagine her, although vaguely. Just remember, when everything is quiet all around, you can hear her singing and feel how she is stroking our world. I believe that our real life will just start after birth’.”

The Soldier grinned and shook his head.

“Not bad. But I am not a follower of the death religion. To reach your country, I will have to die first, that is what the die-hard rebels’ philosophy is about. But what do you want from me? I will never believe you have come to preach about eternal life to a lost sheep.”

  “In the sheep’s skin,” corrected the companion, nodding at his short-sleeved T-shirt, and kept silent for some time staring in his eyes, “I need your help. I am not a follower of the death religion. We are going to either have this country here on the Earth, or have nothing.”

The Soldier endured his stare but felt extremely weak in his legs.

“Are you a prophet?” he asked quietly.

“No, I am not a prophet. They call me ‘the Stranger’. In order to understand me, you will have to get rid of any false perceptions,” the Stranger explained as softly as he could.  “Tell me, who is more dangerous: an assassin’s paymaster or a killer?”

“The person who organizes assassination: an intermediary between the customer and the contractor. He appears to be innocent, sleeps calmly, and risks nothing,” the Soldier grinned.

“You know best, but if one kills the assassin’s paymaster you will have no job for killer and facilitator,” the Stranger looked at him inquiringly.

“I quite agree,” the Soldier sighed.

 “So, you see, evil thoughts are more dangerous without any weapons as they direct the killer’s hand. A kind person will not sneer, rape, or kill. If a lost person changes his views, starts to value life, shows tolerance to the men who are as blind as himself, we will have love and knowledge on the Earth that will destroy the evil. A war against evil will bring peace and well-being to the Earth,” the Stranger smiled.

The Soldier became thoughtful. It seemed that the man was not saying anything special and his arguments were naïve and banal, but for some reason they penetrated his soul and infused him with hope to get out from absorbing nets of anguish. However giving it a little thought, he asked himself a question: “What if this man is just a hypnotist? What is his purpose? Why should he take risk? A provocation?”

“Why have you come here? Do you understand where you are now?”

“I know it is not a quiet place, but we will be able to escape,” the Stranger replied.

“The guy is apparently out of himself,” the Soldier had not had such a surprise for long.

“What do you think, partner? Does it make sense to hide until complete darkness and quietly crawl to our settlement, or do we have to go now? Pretend we are two cranks who have mistakenly made it to a closed area. If we are lucky and are not shot, we will play exalted nitwits,” he proposed openly showing his sarcasm.

“It’s no problem for me to pretend an exalted nitwit, so the second option is OK,” the Stranger smiled again.

“You even don’t have to play,” the Soldier was looking at him attentively.  “You are smiling all the time.”

“I always smile when I’m happy,” the Stranger answered.

They were walking in silence for some time. Suddenly the Soldier halted.

“What has happened?” asked his new companion.

“Do not speak our tongue,” the Soldier whispered. “Locals can see us, but do not let them know who we are. It means they will spend time to think the situation over, then consult, inform the settlement, and meanwhile we will have time to leave. Pretend tourists.”

They were lucky not to see the surprised faces of local people, otherwise they would laugh out, seeing the rounded eyes and open mouths of local peasants, because the Stranger spoke the language, and excellently, of sacred texts which was not spoken daily anymore. Priests read the ancient manuscript, written in this language, only at the local community meeting.

The Soldier imitated him and spoke gibberish ruthlessly distorting words. Suddenly he noticed out of the corner of his eye that a teenager separated from the group of villagers standing nearby and rushed to the settlement.

“Beware!” he told his companion roughly. “Some fifteen minutes and militants are here. Let’s run as fast as we can. I have a shelter not far from here, if we can make there, we’ll survive. Come on!”

The Stranger shrugged his shoulders and said discontented:

“We’ll walk there.”

The Soldier was running fast scolding himself for not quitting smoking on time: he was short of breath.

“What has happened to you? Faster!” he shouted turning around, gesturing wildly and mentally swearing: “I must run there and run back to fetch this loony. This Stranger, although crazy, is not alien and is real. I can see through people.”

The Soldier was not turning round; he seemed to hear the sound of an approaching car with armed militants. Having reached the aim in ten minutes, he inhaled deeply, moved a heavy stone aside, and took out an automatic rifle wrapped in oily rags and four doubled magazines with rounds. He was nauseated and his head pulsed from fast running.

“Keep calm, keep calm, they are far away, you still have time”, the Soldier took several deep breaths. Clicking the bolt, he inserted a magazine, loaded the rifle, moved the safety latch in the ‘fire shot’ position, lifted the rifle to the chest level, and moved towards his new companion fast.

The Stranger started to move faster, but seeing the weapon, halted. The Soldier saw an approaching car and waved him sharply to move aside. He hid behind a stone slab and sighted a moving aim.

The Stranger understood everything, looked in the sky and begged,

“Oh, God, I don’t want to spill blood. I’m not here for that reason. What shall I do?”

He started to think feverishly, what is to be done. He was standing embedded, with fear slowly engulfing him.

“I don't believe. I don't believe it. Go way,” he whispered.

“Run! Lie down! Fall down!” the Soldier was shouting from his shelter, but the Stranger was standing in the way, closing the line of sight.

“I can't shoot. I might wound him accidentally. The bullets are loaded, you hit the leg and it comes out of the belly. If militants jump out of their cars and scatter, I don't know how it is going to end. What if they have shells and grenade launchers? I don't have time to climb up. I have nothing to do but wait till they come and get out and start to talk. First talk and then kill. But he had better be out of the way. Why hasn't he run away? Why? He is evidently out of his mind.”