The Quantum Mantra
Page 16
Pascal perceived that ‘intelligence’ didn’t mean ‘imagination’. As soon as they arrived at Heathrow Airport, the identical scenario occurred, a dull movie script written by the British Secret Service: MI6. These guys really lacked vision or had stopped watching new movies.
The new address for the meeting that somebody slipped into his pocket was to indicate another remote place in other lost London suburb. Hopefully, it wasn’t written in Greek or Pakistani.
Pascal and Mayumi decided they were going to look around London after the meeting and spend some time together. Mayumi felt happy and relaxed, but she couldn’t say why.
Being the daughter of a religious master had always been a heavy responsibility for her to bear. There were so many principles to follow; an obligation to always show the right attitude towards others, and she had a deep spirituality to maintain. There wasn’t much time for fantasy, originality, and leisure. Her medical studies had been a heavy load and her work was very demanding. At her high technical level serious people who didn’t have a sense of humour surrounded her.
Maybe Pascal’s ironic tone and dry humour was having an impact. At first she looked at it as a lack of principle and she felt irritated, but slowly, she started to understand that his humorist stance was an astute way to express his anger and frustration at critics without confrontation. As soon as she realised that she changed her attitude.
Mayumi also resented the trauma from her childhood. As she had revealed to Pascal, she was not born in Japan and felt the guilt of not even being a true product from the Nippon Empire. She was still a Gaijin: a distant foreigner!
Her real parents from a remote village in Mongolia died from dysentery when she was hardly 5 years old. She also became very sick and almost died but was rescued and cured by the local Shaman.
Utzi was an extraordinary woman who taught Mayumi many secrets from her practice and explained how she connected with the divinities; the spirits. She also initiated her into the magic of healing; to the knowledge of herbs and potions as more efficient than classical medicine.
During those two years Mayumi traveled with her until one day Utzi disappeared. It was the most terrible event of Mayumi’s young life. She loved that wonderful woman who was so compassionate and generous. Mayumi couldn’t understand why she did that, and even her strong intuition couldn’t tell whether she would be connected to Utzi again during dramatic circumstances.
The day Utzi disappeared a Buddhist group from Japan was offering a donation to the village school, and Mayumi didn’t know this event was going to change her life. The Buddhist leader saw a ‘wild and desperate animal’ lost in the corner of the schoolyard and understood immediately her fantastic potential. He saw and understood her aptitude to be a medium; a talent attached to her genomes probably.
He was deeply moved and impressed by this young girl. He spoke to his wife and they decided to adopt the young girl and take her back to Japan. They changed her name to Mayumi. Although this changed her fate and improved her life, it was nonetheless a cultural shock that she never totally absorbed!
The encounter with Pascal was opening a new window for her. As a medium with a special power to sense vibrations, she had, of course, evaluated his personality and felt his depth was progressing rapidly. She was now happy to accept that their relationship was warming up, and this filled her with unusual tenderness—or was it love?
Lost in her thoughts, she was distracted as she walked to the airport’s public toilet, which was quite far from the coffee shop where Pascal waited for their meal order.
Three uniformed men who were following her at a distance approached her the moment she wasn’t visible from the coffee shop. They showed official badges that read ‘Airport Security’, and asked for her travel documents.
This is tight security, she thought. There are still so many ways to control people’s fears.
Naturally she showed her passport to one of the men; a sturdy, short, almost bald man with tiny eyes. Ignorant of the danger she was in, she couldn’t help to compare him to an ugly rat. The sneaky character carefully examined her documentation and pointed to a glass cubicle.
“Please follow us to the immigration office madam. There is a problem with your visa.”
“What problem?” She felt furious all of a sudden, and scared.
“Don’t worry madam; it is not important. They simply forgot to stamp your passport properly in Rome. It will take only few minutes.”
Since the moment the plane had landed in London Pascal had felt apprehensive, which took away from his happiness. Everything was going too well. He couldn’t help imagine Mayumi disappear into nothingness. There was no particular reason to support his strong fear, as everything looked so normal, but when Mayumi walked to the far side of the terminal, he immediately knew something was wrong. Strong negative vibrations invaded him and he almost heard her calling for help.
Without any hesitation, he grabbed his backpack and ran in the direction she had taken. Then he saw them: two tall, uniformed men were holding her arms. A short, muscular man followed them and they were pushing her through a door next to the arrival booths, which slammed closed immediately behind them.
Pascal opened it and saw the staircase to the parking lot. He rushed down the stairs, and at the very moment he reached the parking level and opened the heavy metal door he heard a car screech: once again, a Toyota van!
He saw the vehicle stop; its back door suddenly opened to engulf the abductors and Mayumi. He could hardly distinguish them since the van was leaving at full speed, its tires smoking.
It had already driven through the toll booth when Pascal reached the exit and ran to follow them along the access ramp.
It was a desperate move, and he had to stop, out of breath; devastated.
Oh God! They had her! How could he be so stupid to let her go alone? Once more he hadn’t listened to his intuition and now she was gone.
In a rage, he realised he was an amateur in this underground world. An immense tiredness fell upon him and he came back to pick up both suitcases at the coffee shop. He sat motionless for a long time; feeling uncertain and lost. He decided to go to the arranged meeting anyway, because MI6 might help. There was nothing else he could do anyway, not even call the police.
…
“The best thing I know between France and England
is the sea.”
D. Jerrold