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Rami Yudovin

  Wind in the Hands

  Illustration by Rami Yudovin

  ISBN 978-965-555-731-2

  Rami Yudovin, Israeli author of scientific and theological works on bible researches and ancient history, represents the novel parable about the good and evil, about a duty and a freedom of choice.

  He put some question in his book: Can a person be under the shadow of God’s grace, being outside the church? Does he recognizes the freedom of choice or should follow his calling? Should human reflect, ponder and doubt himself, friends, and even Providence? Is he able see a difference: whether he is а performer of divine Predestination or just is used by forces taking kind of Angels of Light.

  For readers also might be interesting another point: How and where prophecies are born? How they affect people. Who has the right and privilege to unravel them? Whether has a person his choice, if he has been led by evil so that to create divine deeds?

  Despite the visible storyline is quite simple, the novel is exciting fiction. In the book there are no names of places and heroes. They all have symbolic character. The Stranger, having come across the ancient prophetic text about upcoming arrival of the Enemy, experiences the feeling similar to the wind. He tries to understand the meaning of it. He hears a voice ordering him to follow into the City. Stranger realizes that should execute special mission and he needs people with unusual abilities for that. He finds the Soldier, a person with a special intuition to distinguish danger, and the Seer, a telepathist and a hypnotist. However the Seer considers that the Stranger poses a threat to the residents of the City and decides to stop him…

  Wind in the Hands

  All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Part One 

  Getting to Know Each Other

  Chapter 1. The Stranger

  The Stranger preferred solitude as his way of life and had lived so for several months. He liked to climb up the mountains where he was standing on the top observing through the mist the fuss of the city, which seemed small and weak from above. It is different in a metropolis where the man seems small. The Stranger lay down on his cape, raised his eyes up towards the eternal heaven and addressed the Invisible. He felt that the old world was going away, very special time was coming and significant change was pending.

  The Stranger had believed in the Creator from the time he was young, unconsciously and never doubting His existence assuming that belief in God was a natural state. But he might be feeling more at ease with this than others as it was more than just belief. He had a sense of the Presence. You believe in something invisible and intangible, but when you can see and feel it, you are speaking about knowledge and not just belief.

  He was searching the signs of the Creator by reading sacred books thoroughly, learning philosophy, history, and science. His search was ambiguous and disappointing. There is a streamlined system and its laws that harm people. The System, or fate as it is referred to by some people (although this word does not reflect the most complex aggregate of all factors), is so strong that the Stranger felt powerless and unable to resist it.

  But it all changed one day…

  Late in the evening he was still reading a manuscript of a doubtful origin. That ancient manuscript seemed to contain confused original and invented, pictures drawn by diseased imagination and true prophesies. The manuscript narrated about future events, promised catastrophes, wars, and arrival of a person named the Enemy.

  Unexpectedly the Stranger felt something strange in his head and shoulders, something like a wind and breath showing to a different extent. At first he was surprised and even touched his head, but soon calmed down and got used to the feeling and a while later the breath gradually subsided.

  As he failed to find an accurate word to describe the feeling, he called it the Wind. At that time he saw himself as a man possessing power and very special knowledge.

  The Stranger could foretell future but still could not fully manage that talent. He had difficulties to tune to that channel accessible to some and that required a huge mental strain.

  Being a beholder he could see the true essence of many things around him but considered himself a passer by and did not interfere with events, often saying: “Live and enjoy, do not harm creatures. Help as much as you can. Learn from experience and acquire new experience. Live by spiritual law and hope that in the other world you will see an open door to the abode you have built in this world.”

  He believed that knowledge and understanding of the essence of things meant freedom that prevented from errors and was required for inner development. Although sometimes he seemed that he could do more, like open secret doors or influence consciousness. The Stranger knew how dangerous it was to summon humankind to change. From ancient times onwards, prophets had been killed with the greatest violence. Although they never called to the overthrow of power, wars, or riots, and just pointed out to human vices and infidelity, they had always been resisted by authorities and false priests. However strange that might sound, the most successful attempts against the chosen ones were made by religious authorities who seemed to be kindred. Prophets paid with the same coin by summoning the people to distrust priests, pointing out to their expressed and secret sins. The Stranger thought that the so-called shepherds and other helmsmen did not know the way to the Light but felt desire for power, respect, and money.

  But there were other shepherds who were indifferent to secular values, suffered for their beliefs and were ready to face death. It was not only their stubbornness and unwillingness to submit to authorities, but the belief that was blessed with the ancient tradition. The Stranger was apprehensive of them even more than of those avaricious shepherds as they were always willing to shed blood of both their friends and their enemies, and the price to achieve the goal was not important. He called these priests Hood servants.

  A coverlet is a barrier on the way to the Heaven. An attempt to tear it off or at least make a hole in this veil often costs the chosen ones’ life. The Stranger could see how the Hood adapts the most progressive ideas and distorts them. The diamond of knowledge is the gift for all people that is inside us. It does not shine but remains valuable and is waiting for the hands of an experienced jeweler to clean and grind the stone, turning it into a brilliant. A sun ray will appear, and the stone will explode into many sparks, and its light can never be taken for the shine of a minor piece of broken glass.

  The Stranger knew that all who fight illusions do not toil in vain. He was ready to risk own life and even die consciously, following in the footsteps of his spiritual advisor, the Prince, who had lived several centuries before in the dark years.

  However, he thought it unreasonable to act as he wished without a special sign. Mere desire is not enough. A man is chosen as a native privilege. The Heaven nominates and not by mere chance, but its criteria remain a secret to all. What if the Stranger is one of those? Will it be possible to live normal life with all of its anxieties and joys? You can survive, especially if you follow worldly rules: achieve your goal by any means and live within the restrictions of the criminal code. Still, there is an internal code apart from the criminal one. By consistently violating the internal code, we destroy ourselves. We acquire little and lose more. We win in a battle but lose in the war.

  The Stranger was confident that means were no less important than the goal, and selection of means was sometimes the goal. He was confident just in one thing: if you were fleeing your destiny, you would not feel happy but just anxious because you failed to use and buried your talent. Of course, you can fill your life with work, love to a woman, get buried in your cares deep enough to have no time or power to climb the mountain and look at the star
s.

  He was more often asking, “Who covered the Earth with the Coverlet? Who is on the way towards spiritual development of humankind? Who is in organized opposition to the chosen ones?”

  Once, when he climbed up the mountain, looked into the sky, smiled at slowly floating clouds, he suddenly and unexpectedly heard a distinct and firm Voice in his head saying, “Time has come! Get up and go to the City!”

  He did not know what was to be done in that case. He had no action plan and thought that he needed associates. Having returned to his small rented flat, he ate some dried figs, and sat down on the floor cross-legged. He concentrated, trying not to think, and asked a question about the search direction. Listening to his feelings, he took a map from his bookcase, closed his eyes, and started to feel it with his hands. A minute later his finger stopped all by itself, and the Stranger opened his eyes.

  “Is it so?” he was both surprised and anxious.  “Let’s check once again.”

  The result was the same, and his finger stopped at the same spot. He recollected a computer game, where a hero had overcome many barriers, left the tunnel, a collapse occurred directly behind his back, and he had to move forward to ominous monsters.

  “It is high time,” he thought, looking in the mirror. “And nothing has changed but the heart is worried. I have been waiting for this time to come, and now everything is as it has always been before!”

  The point, where his finger happened to be by will of fate (or game of luck), was the place for disarmament of mobile rebel gangs. There were checkpoints, mobile patrol units, and military observers in the area.

  He was quizzically watching the map when there was a memory flash, bringing out the last year’s newspaper article, which described how an army pathfinder found a mobile-triggered powerful bomb in the road ditch. The explosive was in a hard case camouflaged as a stone slab. Its form and color made it identical to many stones scattered near a death weapon. Its finding prevented a powerful explosion, cynically triggered at a school bus, touring historical places.

  The Stranger understood whom he needed and was getting ready to embark on his journey. Leaving his home, he glanced at shabby walls of the building, his window with a heavy curtain, indifferently shrugged his shoulders, and strolled to the bus stop.

  Chapter 2. The Soldier