Wind in the Hands

  Chapter 41. A sense of trouble

  The Hermit was looking for a narrow paved street with lanterns. He was walking sprightly, peering with curiosity into the people passing by, examining the sides of houses, shop windows, billboards and curses on the fences:

  “Woe and suffering to the City of blood.” A bustle was distracting the Hermit, though his heart was deceitfully pinching when he treaded along the places familiar to him since childhood. Exhausted, the man sat down onto the steps leading to the ruins of the ancient palace, somewhere two thousand years ago glaring with gorgeous ornamentation.

  The City is dishallowed, faces of the bypasses wearing the print of fatality. The Hermit examined the ruined place, and some visions flashed before his eyes: the City overcast, clouds getting bloodshot. His body was shuddered with apprehension. Suddenly, the Hermit sprang to his feet; it seemed to him that he forgot what the fear is. His heart was beating desperately. “They begin to appear, it will be easy to see them soon, and nobody can resist them, they are intruding on consciousness to capture the minds. God, have mercy!” the Hermit pleaded. “Give me piece, I am begging You! Is it possible that I will not get protection? You are everything for me.” The Hermit looked up to the sky: “Father of the Sky and the Earth, tell me, what I need to do? How to act? Give me the answer.” Unexpectedly, he could hear unmistakably clear: He who came from outside cannot be a helping hand to one who is inside. Find the friend.

  The Hermit was trying to make sense of the phrase heard: “I must find a man from my vision. I am here because of him. Did the Stranger get the reason for his striving here? The City cannot be helped out, and the Stranger cannot help it, either. The great turned against this place. Justly, they have a right. They came to cleanse the City of wickedness. Only he who went through the gate of horror and death is the only one who can rescue people from the on-coming horror and death. Whether does the man from the vision look like the Prince? I could not see his face, and I know that he is young, but great, great… I need to find the Stranger to tell him everything.”

  The old man began slowly moving the palm sideways, felt a slight tingle in the fingers: that meant that the direction was right. Invisible needles were sticking worse, so he was approaching the target. Sometimes, having lost the sense, he had to stop, return back, and seek again; he found and rushed forward, over hedge and ditch.

  The Stranger was lying in the bath, dreaming. The door opened softly, the Bird came in, put the underwear and towel on the marble stool.

  “Thank you,” he muttered, with his eyes closed. The girl took off the bathrobe, walked up the steps to the bath, and sat down besides looking at him hot-eyed. Her stare effused desire, her lips slightly swelled, nude plastic body trembling.

  “I love you and want you very much,” she whispered.

  “It is not time to love,” the Stranger said guiltily. “Sorry.”

  She came nearer to kiss him on the lips. The wave of desire overwhelmed him. His heart leapt furiously, fire seized him, but he recovered himself, grasped the girl by the shoulders and brushed her aside.

  The girl rose slowly and graciously, tossed on the bathrobe and went out, softly closing the door. Smiled. The Stranger snorted out and burst laughing. Dried hurriedly with the towel, got dressed and took the stairs down to the parlor to join his mates. There, he drank some tea, snatched dry fruit and nuts, and asked for a bed. The Medium took him to the bedroom.

  Concentrated, the Seer was looking out of the window, drinking coffee and smoking almost all the time.

  “You smoke like a chimney,” the Medium noticed. “Have some pity for yourself.”

  “I will not die of cancer of lungs, and I am safe from heart attack,” the Seer responded with slight irritation.

  She lifted her hands in dismay.

  “Why are you so nervous? You believe disaster is in store for the City?” the Medium asked.

  “I do not know yet, what is in store for the City. I cannot get my questions answered.”

  “A wrong question?”

  “Maybe. But why do not I ask the right one? This is another question,” it was as if the Seer was talking to himself.

  “Fear? Are you afraid?”

  The Seer smiled ironically.

  “Look into your magic ball to see a horror film.”

  He scorned any magic expedients.

  “Stop arguing. The Stranger will rest and tell you. He seems to know many things,” the Soldier broke upon.

  “The Stranger does not confide us. Not one of us,” the Seer said.

  “Why?” the Soldier asked.

  “He hides his thoughts, overlaps others,” the Seer answered gloomily.

  “He rightly does. To read somebody’s thoughts is mauvais ton,” the Medium was growing impatient.

  “Stop it!” the Seer raised his voice. “You have no idea of what is happening. The Stranger also knows little. Really, want to know? Well, then. The City is on the verge of annihilation. I saw corpses in the streets and houses; they have no time to bury the dead, so throw them down into the chasm and burn. Who is guilty?”

  “The Stranger?” the Medium glared.

  “He is just a link in a long chain,” the Seer uttered in an unexpectedly calm tone. “All believers hallowed by the prophets are waiting for disaster for the prophecies come true. They expect calamities so that to add to their strength: something like you were told but you did not listen, so gather the harvest of His rage for your sins. The only thing is that they do not understand that everything will start with them.”

  “Why?”

  “They are guilty of distortion, moreover, deliberate distortion. The system of destruction, first, will seek for those getting at the Knowledge too closely,” the Seer explained.

  “What system?” the Soldier looked at him attentively.

  “This is a part of global system of response. The law of cause and effect relationships,” the Seer syllabified.

  “How to survive?”

  “Run right off, if only weather and circumstances permit,” the Seer looked at his hurt leg.

  “Is there anybody to stop the calamity that is to come?” the Medium inquired.

  “I know whom you are thinking about. You think about him all the time… He can just accelerate the process.”

  “Does it depend on him? Do you really believe that one man is able to influence global processes?”

  “Generally, a team is behind the loner. If you cannot see it, this does not mean it does not exist. Calamities were prevented seldom or never, and this was for a while. Owing to requests, preaches, penance, or chosen ones, the mechanism of annihilation would freeze, but if consciousness and lifestyle did not change, it was triggered again, completely and entirely. Crowd will not accept the Stranger. It likes those who point at enemies and promise redemption, who do not hesitate to shed blood of foes and favor friends.”

  The Seer lighted another cigarette, but taking a whiff, he ground it out and closed his eyes wearily. The Soldier went to the bathroom, the Medium to the kitchen to cook dinner. The Seer forbade ordering meal in a restaurant. Yet another phobia.