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Authors: Rami Yudovin

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BOOK: Wind in the Hands
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The Prosecutor’s wife rushed to the stage.

“Stop this immediately!” she cried out. “I beg you! What are you doing?”

“Lady,” the Seer looked at her wanly, “it is a lesson for your husband.”

The performance was on live and the entire country was laughing at that respected man playing a dog. The prosecutor did not remember anything, but he saw the recording of his shame and could not live with that. It was especially hard after his court claim for harm to his honor and dignity was dismissed. He had many friends and no one dared take legal action against the Seer. The prosecutor was a burnt card; he shrank into himself, retired. His kids were bullied at school and asked to bark. His wife was looked at scornfully or with sympathy which made the proud woman suffer. Soon the former prosecutor shot himself in his study.

The widow, having wept over her deceased husband, came to the Seer and he met her in cold blood. She jumped up to the host, bunching her fists, but did not dare strike her enemy,

“You have killed my husband! Broken the life of my family! He did not believe in your power! What of it? You have stomped him! And it is not only he who suffered, but our kids who are left without their good and caring father and breadwinner. Has the God bestowed power on you to take your bodily imperfections on successful and beautiful people? No! You do not act from the God! Priests are right in saying that you are a demon and spiteful sorcerer. What right have you had to destroy our world? Oh, if only I could destroy you!”

“The waiting list is too long, I’m afraid, you will have to wait long,” the Seer answered indifferently. “Do you want to hear a reason or have you come to shed your pain?”

“A reason? Can there be a reason?” the widow was indignant.

“There is always a reason, but we sometimes cannot see it. But you haven’t come to learn why; you have come to learn how you are going to live on. Death of your husband is a motive to approach me. Your spouse was a good father but he has never been faithful and do not raise your eyebrows, do not play with me. You must have heard about many broken lives of the people, whom your husband has sent to jail. And do not tell me that they are all criminals; some of them were absolutely innocent. Your husband made severe sentences disproportionate with crimes. Just hear the last one: a young man who was foolish enough to get into the house of a politician, stole some paper in the form of banknotes and several gold trinkets was sentenced to eight years of prison. Eight years!”

The Seer’s eyes flashed. He was silent for some time, then calmed down and spoke on, “your husband, an excellent speaker, convinced judges of the threat of home burglaries and they made a sentence without second thoughts. Eight years of torture, and a spot over the entire short life, and just to please a robbed politician the prosecutor was playing golf with. And the lad had a sick mother and two sisters he had to help. I visited them and I helped them, a spiteful sorcerer. There was almost no food in the house but the mother with tears in her eyes asked me to have tea with stale bread. She kissed my hands begging to help her poor son. She showed me his splendid pictures, touching childish stories written by that talented boy and I knew that every word of the mother was true. Your husband has maimed the whole family but I will correct that and make sure the boy is set free.”

“Do you mean we don’t have to punish criminals?” the guest was sincerely surprised.

“All have violated some laws, if not yours, then the law of equity. Most crimes do not deserve jail. Just do not create conditions for crimes. Go into the question and have a heart. Your husband made his career on criminals who had no money to pay for lawyer services. But I haven’t killed him. You could leave the country, but no, there has been no threat for you here,” the Seer started to nervously pace the room. There was a feeling of a growing danger.

“And what about shame?” the woman was speaking very softly.

“You can live with that. Those, who do not climb high, do not feel pain when they fall,” he recollected an old saying.

“And what about my children?” the widow asked that important question.

The Seer thought for a minute and answered,

“I can’t see anything wrong. You are not going to stay lonely, have no fear, next month you will meet a nice man and forget your hatred in his hands, and without voicing it, you will remember me with gratitude.”

“I will be interviewed by leading newspapers and TV,” she said timidly wanting to hear his opinion.

“Tell them whatever you want, I will forgive you, have no fear. Just do not insult my talent, you cannot judge that. All the best,” and the Seer made a gentlemanly gesture at the door.

Chapter 5. Boys

The widow left. The Seer was trying to explain his new uneasy feeling. He felt bad, but that had nothing to do with his recent guest. He always attentively monitored his feelings to probe events when preparing to them.

The Seer had stopped seeing visitors, although there were many willing to meet him at any cost. Just sometimes he helped his friends and acquaintances or the people who came with a recommendation from his close friends.

And suddenly he was told that there were two strange people bold enough to insist he spoke with them. The Seer got angry as he was not waiting for anyone, and his first intent was to make unwanted guests go away, but suddenly he stopped: he felt that the sense of danger was related with them. Curiosity prevailed and he decided to meet them. The gate opened and two men passed to the courtyard.

“Maybe I’ll stay here to cover the rear?” asked the Soldier, examining an unknown place. He even did not try to conceal his anxiety.

“Are you afraid?” the Stranger was slightly surprised, looked his friends in the eyes and smiled.

“I don’t want to be turned into a dog or worse still, in a pacifist,” the Soldier whispered.

“Don’t worry. Even the Seer cannot make you a pacifist. Just, warrior, do not swear even mentally,” the Stranger was in good mood.

“Is it true that he can read all thoughts?” the Soldier got nervous.

“Of course, but abusive language is the easiest to read,” the Stranger was trying not to laugh out loud.

“What’s so funny?”

“When you were shooting you were less afraid.”

“War is my elements, I feared all the time, especially at the beginning, but it is different fear. Fear that makes you stronger and sharpens your instincts, but this one deprives you of them. Even my knees are trembling. What a mess I’m in!”

“Fear that deprives you of strength is called panic. Do not worry, hero of the war, I will protect you.”

A beautiful young woman pointed out to the study. Approaching the door, the Stranger listened and said,

“It seems there is no one there. I cannot feel anything.”

“You are mistaken. I’m here,” a slightly croaking voice could be heard from behind the door. This voice could belong to the certain one man only.

They entered a gloomy study: bookcases were crowded with folios; there were curious artifacts on shelves, and abstract demon masks, deities, and pictures on the walls.

“It is impressive! I haven’t known that you like fetishes,” uttered the Stranger ironically, watching around the room attentively.

The Soldier inhaled and held his breath: the host would surely push them out for this unceremonious treatment and that was if they were lucky.

“Do not swear and don’t be afraid. I respect hospitality laws. If I let you in, I will let you out,” the Seer addressed the Soldier who expressively glanced at his companion and blushed.

The Stranger did not want to combat the Seer or show disrespect, but he suddenly heard a slight Wind blowing. He slowly turned his gaze earlier directed at the red and brown mask of the God of war at the host. “Can it be the Seer?” The Stranger thought and looked him directly in the eyes. Suddenly, he felt slightly dizzy, got pale, swayed, he was short of breath. But the Wind helped, it became stronger not only in the head and shoulders, but in the arms and that could happen only in special circumstances. Wind came out of him and seemed to be above him at the same time. The jaw vice which seized the Stranger weakened, but he was gradually filled with strength and nothing could harm him, even the Seer who was capable to lull a large audience or make a crowd jump on one foot in one place in unison.

“I haven’t come to fight you or show my strength, I have come to speak. Trust me,” the Stranger said slowly and distinctly.

The Seer was shaken. He literally pierced his guest with his stare. His eyes became wet from tears and showed fear and pain. Seeing this misery of a great man, the Soldier rejoiced. He believed. He believed the Stranger.

“I have never seen anything like that. What was that?”

The Seer was speaking with difficulty. He sat down on a chair and pointed his finger at water. The Stranger rushed to fetch him a glass of water.

“Please let’s not test each other. I have come with peace,” said the guest quietly. When he saw the host in that condition, he could not rejoice in his victory.

“I haven’t tried to impact you to make you unconscious, I just wanted to feel you to understand what you live with. I haven’t shown aggression, but drove against a powerful energy stroke. Who are you?” the Seer was externally calm and was eying the Stranger without fear but amazed.

“I need your help. Can we talk?” the Stranger asked.

“Take a seat, but I doubt I can help you,” the Seer pointed at the chairs.

The Soldier was the first to take a seat; he was no less surprised than the Seer. The Stranger took his seat, too.

“I would like to know what you think about an important issue. I’ve heard something,” he started.

“In what state were you at that time?” the Seer completely recovered. He made himself forget his weakness as a bad dream, absolutely erase from his memory.

“I climbed up the hill and tried to tune in the heavenly wave and started to speak,” the Stranger hoped the Seer would understand.

“Was it a dialog?” the host’s eyes shown smirk.

“It’s not a theatrical performance. Why do you use such terms? Do you want to know if I can hear the Voice? Very rarely. But that requires a correct question. Sometimes I hear different voices as if I couldn’t tune on to a necessary wave in a bad quality radio receiver. And still I’m not sure if I heard my subconscious voice or really entered the Source of Knowledge,” it was hard for the Stranger to choose words.

“You have little experience. I have heard many voices or rather senses, since my childhood, and then learnt to translate them in human speech. But I checked myself: I came up to people and told them what they were thinking about. Sometimes I was mistaken, and the words I heard were of the person standing nearby. With time I learnt to differentiate sources,” the Seer started to speak in his normal complacent voice.

“I didn’t have the task to read others’ thoughts. I’m interested in the rules of the universe and my actions,” the Stranger explained.

The Seer was eyeing his companion with interest.

“A source of Knowledge is a kind of a large shop: there are various goods required for living and even more. There is something we cannot understand or use, at least in our time. A man who happens to be in the supermarket chooses what he needs. But sometimes takes everything he can lay his hands on, even something he cannot and will not be able to use. Give a fighter plane to a music teacher and he won’t be able to start it. If you give a mobile phone to a person, living somewhere deep in the countryside, where never heard of radios or telephones, will he use it to communicate or rather hang it on his neck as decoration or use it as a hammer?”

“I understand what you are driving at. I have received something I cannot understand. But you cannot understand everything either. Still, I think the analogy with a shop is not really suitable. A source is rather a warehouse and goods are issued by a storekeeper according to the visitor’s inclinations,” the Stranger said smiling.

“If a recipient does not know what it is, he should study an operation manual and understand its purpose.”

“What have you seen on the hill? Repeat exactly what you have heard,” asked the Seer sharply. He couldn’t stand polemists and considered that he was always right and therefore was slightly irritated by lack of respect to him.

“I was told: ‘Go to the City’. The voice was distinct and clear as an order. I heard it from outside. I am not crazy. And I’m no less skeptical than you, but ignoring facts is a crime.”

“Have you asked something before that?” the Seer became serious and thought that something important was in the air.

“I asked how I should live. What must I do?”

“Was that all?”

“As regards the Voice, that was all. Then I have started to seek the meaning of the phrase and understood that I have to undertake an important and unsafe mission, but maybe these were the answers prompted by my soul and consciousness.”

“It’s good that you can tell the voice of your consciousness from another voice. But the voice of your soul can be equally true to the heavenly voice,” tutored the Seer.

“Why? How can this be possible?”

“Are you ready to believe anything you hear over the radio?”

“Of course not. Do you want to tell me that I can hear an unknown voice translated from anywhere?”

“Translated by someone for unknown purposes.”

“But there exists the Voice from the Source of the Truth, to explain the unclear and understand the unknown,” the Stranger was slightly alarmed.

“Ok. It is hard to tell it from the voice of your sub-consciousness and more difficult from the voices outside. I’m speaking about the source of information don’t have the slightest idea about. By the way, you have interesting terminology for the phenomena which are generally only hard to perceive to say nothing about describing or naming them,” the Seer smiled lightly.

“It is for better understanding. Speak on, please.”

“Imagine there are powerful translators high up in the sky, and all can hear a heavenly voice, but we understand that the signal is from the Earth.”

“I see. You want to say that intelligence services may have sent a signal directly into my brain?” the Stranger got worried. He understood what the Seer was speaking about.

BOOK: Wind in the Hands
4.61Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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