'Please explain "Wisdom from the dawn of the human race."' said Joseph.
'Yes,' answered the old man. 'I must explain that to you.'
* * *
Rosa and Thomas had watched it happen. Rosa knew with her whole being that Ernie had made the right choice, and she was pouring all her inner strength into the healing rays coming from the crystal. Thomas could feel it too.
Then, things began happening faster than she could comprehend, and in a direction she couldn't understand. Ernie's hand exploded, and he fell backwards. The men began advancing, some already surrounding the four, and on finding they couldn't use their guns, began beating the three who were still standing.
That's when she heard something like a war cry from behind her. It was the old man they had picked up, now leaping forward swinging his staff like an old kung fu master. The militia men were backing up, one by one dropping their guns and running away, Stanovitch shouting profanities at them.
Finally, all there was left was the old man and Stanovitch, who defiantly stood his ground.
The old man faced him with his staff poised, and said in an ironic tone, 'Dosh, of Asvork!'
Thomas later said that was the first time he had ever seen fear in Stanovitch's eyes. Then, they saw him back off a few paces, before he turned tail and ran.
Despite the crystal having exploded, Rosa could still see the real Nicolai inside. Thomas thought he did too.
The old man came back to where the four lay, for the most part unconscious, or too hurt to know what was happening. He pointed the staff at Ernie's burning hand and the fire went out. He knelt down and began rubbing something on the hand.
Rosa approached him, while Thomas went to where Les was lying.
The man suddenly looked up and said, 'You two -- you have work to do. You saw the prisoner a while ago. Go, and help him find release. Here, I give you something.'
He went to Gill, took the crystal probe from his pocket and gave it to her.
'Keep this with you, and you will be unnoticed, just as with the other crystal. It will also emanate an essence of my authority whenever you boldly exert yours. Take the Jeep and go now. I will help these four. There is a village down the road. The first house you will come to is empty, and stocked with food. You can stay there. When you have done all that needs to be done, come back one kilometre in this direction from the village, and take the path that leads up the mountain as far as it will go. Bring the doctor and the five briefcases.'
Rosa and Thomas obeyed.
It took some time to get the jeep around the three stalled vehicles. Passed the second vehicle, they overtook some tribal men carrying their four friends on bamboo stretchers.
They continued onward. Presently, they began to overtake Stanovitch, who was trudging along on foot.
'Would you like a lift?' Thomas asked.
Stanovitch cursed.
Rosa responded, 'We didn't ask you, Dosh of Asvork. Nicolai, would you like a lift?'
As she spoke, she was aware of a hum coming from the crystal probe in the pocket of her jeans.
The man looked at them for a moment, and then came a weak, 'Yes please.'
They travelled in silence until they reached the village. They stopped at the first house. It was a hut made of slit bamboo, and was elevated on slender bamboo poles. There was a ladder leaning against an open veranda.
'Well, here we are,' said Thomas. 'Nicolai, would you like to spend the night here with us?'
Nicolai uttered some profanities.
'He wasn't asking you, Dosh,' said Rosa. 'Nicolai, would you like to stay here tonight?'
Again, the probe gave off a hum.
After a long pause, he answered softly, 'I'd be most pleased to.'
'Nicolai,' said Rosa, as they were carrying their things up the ladder. 'You really must be firm. It is your body, and this Dosh of Asvork doesn't belong in it.'
Suddenly the stronger voice said, 'It's mine. He gave it to me so I stay.'
'If you please, Dosh, she was speaking to Nicolai,' said Thomas. 'Don't interrupt when she's talking.'
Again, the crystal probe gave off a low buzz. Every time either Rosa or Thomas spoke out with authority, the probe both hummed and gave off a glow that was visible in the dark. This seemed to do have the effect of subduing Dosh for the time being.
Thomas had never in his wildest dreams thought he would ever address Stanovitch in this way. Before, their relationship had been based on who controlled who. He still found the imposing body and scarred head of Stanovitch intimidating, but now there was a difference. When he focused on who the real Nicolai was, and who was Dosh the Asvork, the fear was no longer there. Due to that fact alone, Dosh didn't have a handle on Thomas as before. To be sure, Dosh tried a few mind tricks, but something about the Wisdom he had gained helped Thomas deflect them. It was a Wisdom that, by its nature, was the opposite of fear. Because he was no longer intimidated, he no longer used intimidation on others -- apart from the fact that Dosh found him intimidating simply by virtue of his not being intimidated. With the real Nicolai, it was only a matter of helping him get a handle on himself.
In the house, they found loaves of bread in their plastic wrapper that looked as though they had been bought in Maesai, some jars of jam and marmalade, several cans of tuna and other things enough for several meals, and tea and coffee in between. A round charcoal stove sat near the edge of the veranda with a boiling pot set on top. Over to the side was a supply of charcoal and kindling. Rolled up in a corner was all the bedding they would need, including mosquito nets. In the back there was an out-house.
Under any other circumstances, it would have made for a pleasant holiday camp-out.
As Nicolai was conversing as himself over a cup of tea, he suddenly said, 'Oh, there's something you must know -- in Mae Lai village -- er -- up ahead ...' As he went it became more and more difficult to speak. 'Er -- th-the -- in the bunker -- er -- G-General Li...'
His composure changed and Dosh began uttering profanities and threatening to blow up the world.
Again, Thomas and Rose, backed by the crystal probe, reminded Dosh his presence was unwelcome, but they also told Nicolai to rest first, and later he could tell them what was on his mind.
Instead, they began to explore together the question: what was that all consuming desire that had opened the door to Dosh to begin with? In retrospect, was it really what Nicolai wanted? What would he choose now -- now that Wisdom was calling?
Chapter 57
Ibrahim had found the opening in the far end of the grotto. After giving the men upstairs a shout, he went in crawling on his hands and knees.
The passage proceeded along a gentle upward slope. At first, it was possible to keep the carry bag strapped to his back, but soon, it became impossible to crawl, as the passage narrowed. He took off the bag, lengthened the strap, and fastened it so it dragged along behind him.
Soon it became narrower again, so he couldn't crawl on his knees, but had to shuffle forward. It seemed as though the passage was gradually getting narrower as it went.
It will require determination,he remembered, but the one chosen for the task is well chosen.
It occurred to him that he could get a better grip with his feet if he didn't wear his shoes. There were niches that would be perfect for his toes, but a bit awkward for the rubber fronts of his climbing shoes.
But the passage was too narrow to bring his feet up to where his hands could reach them.
Finding himself thus cramped was unnerving, but he told himself he could do it with determination. He was 'well chosen' for the job.
He continued the long ascent, and soon found he had reached an opening. He looked out and his head lamp showed him it was a small chamber.
Bits of the roof, floor and sides of the passage extended into the chamber in such a way that he could get out, but it would be extremely difficult to go back the way he came. Indeed, probably impossible -- rather like some fi
sh traps he had seen.
The choice to go on suddenly took on new meaning. If he proceeded, there was no way to return. Should the passage end in a dead end, he was stuck inside this ancient monstrosity forever. Who was to say the passage hadn't deteriorated or caved in over the many millennia?
He almost panicked.
You are well chosen for the task. It will take determination.
With all the resolve he had, he reached for what appeared to be a hand grip ahead of him, and pulled himself through.
Now, he was passed the point of no return.
He stood on the floor, looking at the passage he had just emerged from. Above it, reachable by steps dug into the the wall, was another passage leading in the opposite direction so that the path Zig-zagged upward. He thought he was probably near the outer wall of the pyramid on the opposite side from the entrance.
Before climbing to the second passage, he took off his shoes and socks and placed them in his bag.
Then, he climbed up, making use of the hand grips evidently intended for the purpose.
This passage was narrower still, and would have been impossible had he not taken off his shoes.
Chosen for the task, indeed! How would any adult even make it through the first passage? How did the crystal, placed in the box before humans were even created, know that the one chosen for the task would be a twelve-year-old boy who was small for his age?
His main worry now was, what if the next passage were even narrower?
This one was much shorter than the first. Again, it was made to prevent returning the way he came. This time, it wasn't such a difficult decision. This chamber was identical to the previous one thereby expediting a Zig-zag path all the way to a destination somewhere above the King's Chamber. He pulled himself in, and looked for the passage above that again.
It was narrower yet, just as he had feared.
He climbed up to it, but he found it impossible to get in. He was just a fraction of an inch too big around the middle.
Again, he almost panicked.
It will take determination.
Yes, it would take determination ever to see the outside world again, and not become another artefact inside this giant museum.
Maybe if he took off his shirt.
He took off the denim shirt and it hardly fit into the bag. It had already become difficult to drag along behind him. Maybe if he ate the food. That would only make him fatter, and maybe unable to fit again.
He drunk some of the water, as he was thirsty.
Then, he tried again.
Shirtless, he fit.
The bag was, indeed, difficult to drag along, now that it had been expanded by the bulk of his denim shirt.
He continued upward.
He needed to use the toilet. Where were the toilets in this place? An electrical power plant, but no toilet?
When he reached the next chamber, he barely made it through the opening. His trousers were catching here and there.
Inside, he relieved himself, and then looked for the next passage. Again, the chamber was identical to the other three, except now it stank of urine -- and instead of rectangular, the next passage was oval shaped.
He tried to fit himself, but the strap about his waist that held the bag caught. He tied the strap around his leg instead, and tried again.
This time, the wallet in his pocket caught.
He took it out and put it in the bag. There was enough in the wallet for a return flight to Bangkok plus a bit more for emergencies if he needed it.
It barely fit into the bag. To reduce the bulk, he took the sandwiches out. He wasn't hungry anyway, and that amount of food would only prolong his life a day or two, at best. They could become artefacts for archaeologists millennia from now to find. He left them sitting just inside the passage from which he had entered.
Trying the next passage again, he barely fit. He continued to just fit until about half way, when his bag caught on something.
Try as he might, he couldn't pull the bag free.
Should he go back? What was in the bag?
There was the money, the spare batteries, the ninja rope, and his shirt. He hadn't realised 'til now how fond he was of that shirt. It made him look like a handsome European boy, and less like an Afghan nomad. The money also seemed a lot to him. It gave him a sense of security, but how much was the money worth inside a pyramid with no way out?
If he didn't make it out of here, he would never go to Bangkok anyway. If he did, he would have a Gloreen ship to go in.
The hope of a space ship. That's why he was inside this prison with such thick walls. Wouldn't his brother laugh at him now! Head in the stars? For the sake of the stars he was trapped inside a pyramid. Did he really believe a space ship would land on top?
Did he even believe he would reach the top of the pyramid?
With the toe of his one foot, he worked the strap until it came off, and proceeded forward.
At the next chamber, he had to decide whether to go in or not, as it was his last chance to go back for the bag.
He slid backwards all the way to the lower chamber to fetch the bag. It had landed in the pool of urine -- yeach! This time, he took the denim shirt out, so the bag was smaller. He tied it to his leg again, and made his way back up.
Again it got stuck.
Again, he undid it.
This time, he entered the next chamber without his bag.
Now he had lost count of how many chambers he had entered, and whether he was near the outside wall or at the centre of the pyramid.
He sat for a while to think.
He didn't have his food, nor his water, nor spare batteries, nor his money.
Either he would do what now looked impossible, or he would die right here. Just thinking about it took his strength away. Shouldn't he have kept his sandwiches and the water so he could live one more day? Could the crystal have possibly lied to him? Could something written thousands of years ago, before humanity even existed really have anticipated the situation he was in now?
You are well chosen for the job. It will take determination.
Whoever wrote those words in the crystal at least knew it would take determination, every ounce of it, more than he knew he had -- if indeed he had it.
You are well chosen...
Did it know him better than he knew himself? He would just have to take its word for it.
He went into the next hole, and discovered he couldn't go far unless he took off his trousers. There were irregularities that invariably caught the material.
He slid back into the chamber, removed his trousers but kept his briefs on. That, and the lamp were the only things he had now. His skull cap had already fallen off somewhere.
Couldn't he at least tie the trousers around his leg?
He knew without trying, it wouldn't work. They'd only snag like the bag did.
He went into the hole, and barely fit.
If he emerged from this pyramid alive, it would be with nothing that he had brought in with him, except the lamp and his briefs. What would Uncle Abdul and Ed say?
They could say whatever they wanted. If he were only alive, that would be enough for him.
Now, the lamp was beginning to go dim. The spare batteries were in the bag he had left in the other chamber. Why couldn't he have thought to replace the batteries first?
The irregularities that would have caught on his trousers also scraped his body just a bit, but he was able to manoeuvre passed them without allowing them to press against his skin too hard. However, he couldn't keep them from snagging his briefs. Before he knew it, they were at his ankles. He tried to pull them along -- he could find some other way to carry them when he got to the next chamber -- but soon they were hopelessly snagged, and went the way of the bag.
This passage didn't get any narrower, but by the time he reached the next chamber, the lamp was out.
Slap it, play with the batteries, do what he wou
ld, it was dead. He was in pitch blackness.
With a sigh, he took it off and dropped it on the floor.
Now, he had nothing, he was naked, he couldn't see anything, if he screamed, no one would hear him.
He had no water to drink, and no food to eat.
If Allah didn't help him, he would surely die inside, and no one would be able to give him a proper burial.
This would be his tomb. The Pharaohs were buried in pyramids like this, but at least they had their clothes, their gold, items to use in the next world, and even a few servants. Ibrahim had only what he brought from his mothers womb.
The only way out -- if there was any -- was the way forward into the total unknown. Who was to say that after thousands of years the crystal pyramid was still there?
Because he had been in so many identical chambers, he was able to feel his way to the next passage.
He crawled in.
This one was completely smooth, but narrower. He was only able to inch forward.
He was inside the great mass of stone, with nothing. Just himself, and metres and metres of stone in every direction. Everything that Uncle Abdul and Ed had thought would be of help to him, were left here and there inside the pyramid where they were impossible to retrieve should he need them.
He was Ibrahim, and only Ibrahim, with nothing else. But, that was how Allah saw him, wasn't it.
Only Allah could help him.
He was inching forward, and even now the passage was narrowing.
He kept trying, but now he could go no farther.
He made it one more inch, but now he could move neither forewords nor backward.
He couldn't even take a deep breath.
Chapter 58
As requested by Joseph, the Wandering Jew launched into his explanation of what he meant by 'wisdom from the dawn of the human race':
'In the beginning of man's existence, he was given the Wisdom -- the same as the Zondon. Early, in man's history, he forsook Wisdom, in favour of the dark knowledge -- the same as that held by the Glaat. However, for humanity, the consequences are much more severe, because man had also been appointed the guardian of the Vortex of time, material space and force.'