Chapter 3. Meeting
The Soldier hid his shoulder arm. It was much safer to go unarmed in that case not to raise any suspicion. He took out earlier prepared clothes from his bag, changed and then looked like a pilgrim on a tour around famous sights. Warriors lower their arms when they see such weirdoes, joke and insult them but never shoot.
Slowly and carefully, and slightly clumsily the Soldier was going down the steep mountain. Having walked about three hundred steps along the path towards the nearest settlement, he saw a man approaching him. He carefully looked around trying to understand where to run in case of shooting but did not feel danger. He inhaled and exhaled slowly and listened to his feelings again: “Definitely no danger. Who dares walk here? People warned of a cleaning operation do not leave their settlement.”
When they met, the travelers glanced at each other. The Soldier seemed to feel that the yearning, which was with him all the time, was evaporating without any church singing. He wanted to speak with the stranger who spoke first.
“Be in peace. I am glad I’ve found you. It was not easy.”
He was wearing simple comfortable clothes, had a beard and long hair but did not look like a rebel and spoke without any perceptible accent typical to local residents.
“Who are you?” the Soldier asked the man who was penetrating him with his kind and slightly ironical eyes.
“I am your friend.”
The Soldier felt the traveler’s geniality.
Have you seen a couple of people with bags or sacks nearby?
“Yes, I have seen them and spoken with them and warned them of a deadly peril.”
“Do you know them?” the Soldier grew suspicious.
“No more than you,” a Stranger answered calmly.
“Then why have you helped them?” the Soldier ground his teeth. “They are killers, enemies. How do you know?” he checked himself. “Who are you?”
“They have not killed anyone, but you killed a lot.”
“They are killers,” the Soldier reiterated stubbornly, but suddenly under the changed glance of his companion, he felt limp and slightly dizzy.
“You don’t know how killers are made. You can see only a small fragment of a large mosaic and not the big picture. You are digging in earth looking for worms for your hook, but not catching large fish with a net. You have a talent but you are wasting it.”
“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. I
f 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.”
Suddenly shooting started nearby with machine-gun bursts. Hearing the sound, the Soldier could define a gun grade and smiled thoughtfully, “Our people. Just on time. Cleaner fighters.”
The car stopped about hundred meters from the Stranger and turned towards the settlement.
“Thank you,” he whispered. “The path has been paved and blessed.”
The Soldier exhaled, clicked the lever and engaged a safety latch.
“You haven’t left me. I have not been mistaken,” the Stranger said overtaking him.
“You even can’t understand how lucky you are. Hurry up, cleaners are here. By the way, they have saved you. Why haven’t you run?”
“I’m not prey to run away. The God has saved me; cleaner fighters do not know me. The God has saved you, too. Our time has not come yet.”
“It will come, and much faster than you think if we do not hurry: cleaner fighters are nearby.”
“Aren’t they our people?” the Stranger grinned.
“Our people are at home. I’m armed and it’s a signal for them to start shooting,” the Soldier calmed down and even stopped being angry. “Crazy man, nothing to be done.”
“And if other units are here, will cleaner fighters still start fire seeing armed people?”
“First, joint actions are coordinated, second, you can tell your allies by weapons and uniform, well, mainly by helmets,” the Soldier explained.
“Helmets?” the Stranger asked again. “Is it possible to tell a helmet of a Salvation Army fighter from a rebel helmet?”
“It is possible, but hard to do, especially for someone like you,” the Soldier laid a trap.
“Why?” and the Stranger got trapped.
“Because militants do not wear helmets,” the Soldier threw up his hands in a theatrical gesture.
The Stranger smiled approvingly wagging his head.
“Then, let’s hurry. Listen, I guess you can take your helmet out of the shelter, can’t you? You looked cool in sandals, rugged jeans, Love Save the World T-shirt, and the Salvage Army helmet with a punishing sword,” he added seriously.
The Soldier sighed and tried to smile. His face muscles seemed to be unable to allow a smile, although he had good sense of humor. Approaching his shelter, he turned around, removed the magazine from the rifle, unloaded it, picked a cartridge and placed it in a case, wrapped his weapon in a cloth, placed in an opening of the shelter, closed it with a stone, and then nodded to the Stranger and they moved on. In an hour, they approached the roadblock.
“We have come, they know me here. But they think that I’m helping local people, and they will not be excited to see us, but will not shoot either. That’s not bad.”
“I can see that you are liked by all, our people and others,” said the Stranger with mocking respect.
“I don’t need love of these nitwits. I once was in a situation at that roadblock. Two Soldiers drank and decided to have their pictures taken for their girlfriends, and with arms for better effect. They drank more and decided to have their picture taken in a battle. One of them made a severe face and started to shoot, but when you are making a picture from the side you cannot see fire properly. So the half-witted photographer stood in front of the line of fire and shouted, ‘Shoot, friend, and say cheers.’ Well, his friend did not think twice and shot.”
The Stranger looked at the Soldier questioningly,
“Is the photographer alive?”
“He is, such fools, however surprising that might sound, are tough. It seems they quite like such idiots up there. Not only we have found them funny.”
The five fighters were scattered at the roadblock. A sniper at the tower was looking through the scope sight at villagers, passing through the roadblock, and swearing at them bored giving orders over the intercom in the local tongue and making peasants look around bewildered. Fighters were roaring with laughter.
The Soldier and the Stranger approached the borderline. An officer waved his hand sharply calling them to be checked. They moved towards him, but at the safety line, they heard an order via the intercom,
“Stand still! T-shirts up!”
“Hey, yo
u loon up there! You’ll give yourself away!” the Soldier shouted and said to the Stranger, “Animals! They can see that we are not strangers and still humiliate us.”
“Local villagers also feel bitter, but can’t you see how gladly they raise their shirts,” the Stranger noted.
“Some of them may be militants with weapons and explosives and they generally like to undress…”
“And will surely demonstrate their death belt, hoping no one will notice it.”
“If you do not check, there will be many militants. It’s a psychological game.”
“Our world is a game, you always play to win, deceive, cheat, but not only players suffer.”
“Can we go?” the Soldier shouted. “Or do we have to take off our trousers?”
“Good idea,” the fighter came down from the tower. “Go, take off your trousers. We’ll look and might see something, I have magnifying optics.”
Guffaw could be heard all around.
“I will let you watch, you brat. You won’t find it funny! You will have nothing to watch with,” the Soldier snapped and moved towards the wit.
Three fighters immediately aimed at the Soldier, bolts clanked, and safety latches clicked.
“You cross the second line, you lie down and never get up,” the officer said and added scornfully, “attack at a roadblock, so I have the right.”
The Stranger caught the Soldier’s hand that was ready to vehemently attack them all hand-to-hand.
“Stay calm. I will speak with them,” he said softly. “Brethren, do not humiliate us. You don’t know the reasons we are here. We have almost been killed by rebels, and do you want to kill us too? Search our papers if you don’t believe your experience. We are peace makers. If I’m not a good peace maker, my friend is a real pacifist,” he nodded at the Soldier.
“Such pacifists do more harm than terrorists,” said one of the fighters spitting at them.
“I won’t argue your point, but you are not politicians or judges. Do you really believe we have explosive in our pants? I won’t protest, we have explosives in our pants, but its action excites ladies.”
The fighters at the roadblock laughed approvingly. The officer waved his hand and they passed through the fence to the bus stop.
“I would never think you can joke like that. So strange. I cannot see through you. And I have seen many kinds of people,” the Soldier looked at the Stranger and asked him sharply, “what do you want from me? Who are you?”
“We must understand something. I have heard something. We need associates, we find them and discuss everything,” and the Stranger looked his companion directly in the eyes.
“Who do we need?” the Soldier asked suspiciously looking aside.
“The Seer.”
“Himself?”
“Yes,” his new companion shrugged his shoulders indifferently.
“The Seer will not let us in. Who are we and who is he? Rulers, ministers, generals, and wealthy people from all over the world are dreaming of talking with him. This person does not care for us or respect anyone.”
“He will admit us,” the Stranger was confident. “Let’s exchange mobile phone numbers. Think and let me know if you are coming with me to him or not.”
The Soldier fell thoughtful for some time,
“Ok, write down…”