Awakening, 2nd edition

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Awakening, 2nd edition Page 19

by Kuili, Ray N.


  “All right, all right, ” Joan said with an air of remorse. “Point taken. I oversimplified, mea culpa. No need to quote dead poets.”

  “We forgive you!” Chris made a wide gesture. “It ’s impossible to stay mad at a beautiful woman.”

  “The only woman!”

  “Who has joined us in good faith!”

  Joan gave them a charming smile.

  “You boys are so sweet. Of course, that has escaped my mind, but that was totally unintentional.”

  “What?” Chris wondered, heading full -speed for a trap.

  “There’s so much more for you to discuss than women and sports, ” Joan held a pause.

  “Of course! There ’s so much—”

  “You also have politics. And cars. Now I honestly can ’t think of anything else.”

  “Don’t you ever try that again, ” Brandon advised Chris , who seemed crushed. “She ’s a dangerous woman.”

  “Okay,” Chris agreed with a mock grimness. “We ’ll see who gets the last laugh . . .”

  “Just keep the faith, ” Joan advised as if nothing had happened. “Sometimes stereotypes die. Take me , for example. It wasn ’t long ago that coming to a place like this was not a good idea for someone like me. Back then , ten men would never choose me to lead them.”

  Ross chuckled.

  “Are you saying—” he began and broke off abruptly.

  “Am I saying what?” Joan asked softly.

  “N-n-nothing. You ’re right, everything is different these days.”

  “I see,” Joan looked at him without saying a word until he took his eyes away. “Is that what everyone around here thinks?”

  “What?” asked Chris frivolously. “That things have changed?”

  “No, I’m talking about the comment Ross didn ’t have the guts to finish.”

  “That in reality nothing has changed?” clarified Michael.

  “Right,” Joan confirmed with an odd intonation.

  They all fell silent.

  “That’s not what I meant, ” Ross said, at last. “You got me wrong . You didn’t even hear me finish the sentence.”

  “Don’t get all worked up, ” cheered him up Paul. “We got you right. The voting will tell what everyone really thinks.”

  “Bullshit,” Alan said curtly all of a sudden. “The voting will tell something else.”

  “And what would that be?” Paul asked, ignoring Alan ’s tone.

  “The only thing the voting will really show is who likes whom.”

  Although Alan was answering Paul’s question, his eyes remained fixed on Joan ’s face.

  “As for gender equality, it has nothing to do with it. In fact, if there ’s any inequality involved, it ’s the opposite to what Ross said . . .”

  “What do you mean, opposite ?” Joan asked.

  “Just that. It’s you who has an advantage here.”

  Joan smiled.

  “How about elaborating?”

  “There’s nothing to elaborate. I ’ve just said it all.”

  “I’m sure you can make an effort and go one inch deeper.”

  “Why should I? I ’m sure everyone understood precisely what I meant.”

  “Listen,” Chris intervened. “I don ’t like where this conversation is heading . Why don ’t we go back to the previous subject?”

  Joan opened her hands, her face full of merry bewilderment.

  “We haven’t changed the subject yet. You were talking about women when I showed up, right? Or was it a men-only conversation?”

  “Chris was kidding, ” said Michael. “We were ta lking about something else.”

  “Like teaching women a lesson?” Joan asked abruptly.

  Michael shook his head calmly.

  “No. We were talking about—”

  He didn’t finish—loud booming yells filled the room.

  “Come on! I want them to hear this! Now!” Alex was moving towards them like a tank, yelling at someone outside the door.

  “Really, come on! I mean it.”

  He stopped and waved authoritatively to the person hiding in the dark.

  The person finally accepted the insistent invitation and , having walked through the door , turned out to be Kevin. As he was reluctantly approaching the table, Alex placed his bulk of a body into a chair, threw a handful of salty nuts into his mouth and , chewing them loudly , explained: “He says he’s got some information. Something I ’d be interested in. But I didn ’t even want to listen. I told him straight out , ‘My friend, this conversation can only take place in front of the group. No way around it.’ Ah, Mike, you ’re here. Good.”

  He turned to Kevin, who had finally reached the table. “Go ahead, spill it. So what did you see?”

  “I didn’t see anything interesting, ” Kevin informed everyone, looking for some reason askance at Michael.

  “Yeah, right. Nothing interesting. But somehow you thought it was worth coming and talking to me about it . That was a good call, except I don ’t play politics. So let ’s make it public knowledge, shall we?”

  Kevin sighed.

  “There’s nothing to talk about, ” he said with a great deal of reluctance. “It just came up as we talked.”

  “Just came up? Just came up, huh? Don ’t give me this crap. You came to me to talk about this. Stop beating about the bush.”

  Suddenly, Kevin turned angry.

  “Listen, I don ’t remember giving you permission to talk to me like this!”

  Alex raised his hands in a peacemaking gesture.

  “I’m sorry, Kevin. I shouldn ’t have said that . You ’re right. I apologize. But you know how important this kind of stuff is to me. And not only to me, for that matter.”

  “What is this all about?” Michael asked when Kevin heaved yet another sigh. “And can somebody tell me how my being here is related to this show?”

  “How? Because this is about you , that ’s how, ” said Alex, throwing another handful of nuts into his mouth. “Kevin, please? People are waiting. You ’ve got their attention now.”

  Kevin sighed once again and turned to Michael.

  “So we talked about this note . . .”

  He went silent.

  “What note?”

  “The note that somebody planted in Alex ’s room. You know , this blackmail . . . well, you know.”

  “And?”

  “And I told Alex that essentially each one of us is a suspect. Not that every one is, but on the other hand, anyone could ’ve done it. And knowing that the only printer is in the library doesn ’t help.”

  “Now you’ve confused the heck out of me, ” Brandon said. “The printer is in the library —w hat difference does that make?”

  “It actually does, ” Alex replied merrily. “He saw someone leaving the library holding a printout.”

  “And I take it, ” said Michael coldly, “that I was that somebody.”

  “Precisely!” Alex rejoiced.

  Kevin shrugged guiltily.

  “Michael, I didn ’t mean to accuse you of anything. It was just an example that came to my mind. I was only trying to say that starting a witch hunt would be a huge mistake. Who knows how far it might take us. You understand, right?”

  “I understand, ” Michael looked at him, pondering over some thought. “I certainly do.”

  He turned to Alex.

  “And why exactly have you decided to share this extremely valuable information with all of us?”

  Alex folded his hands across his chest, which immediately made him look like a WWF wrestler.

  “Because there ’s more. Kevin, why don ’t you give them the whole story? The same way you told it to me. Really. Tell ‘em how Mike entered the library, how he left it ten minutes later, how he was holding that printout, how he went towards my room, how he looked back . . . First time it sounded better. More dramatic, you know?”

  “More dramatic . . . ” Michael repeated after Alex, his eyes focused expectantly on Kevin.

 
Kevin in turn spared Alex a displeased look.

  “Alex is exaggerating . I was simply talking about facts. Facts that meant nothing by themselves. And I said literally nothing beyond what Alex has just told you.”

  “He’s right, ” Alex confirmed. “But somehow it sounded bad. Bad enough for everyone to hear it. And I would like —in fact I insist —that any conversation like this one take place in front of everyone. Or doesn ’t take place at all.”

  “Kevin, dear, ” Joan asked with a hint of suspicion in her sweet voice , “h ow did you know that Mike spent exactly ten minutes in that room?”

  Yet another heavy sigh followed her question. “I ’m in deep trouble ” was stamped clearly over Kevin ’s face.

  “There’s a window next to the library that overlooks the porch. I was sitting there when Michael entered the room. I was just taking a breath of fresh air, all right? This place has great fresh air.”

  “Hmm . . . and how did you know he went towards Alex ’s room?”

  “I happened to be leaving the balcony around the time he was leaving the library.”

  “You mean, by that time you ’d had enough of that great fresh air, right?” Brandon said.

  “Yes,” Kevin answered with visible irritation. “Are you trying to insinuate something?”

  Brandon shrugged.

  “Nothing. Just facts that don ’t mean much by themselves.”

  “Okay, that’s probably enough, ” concluded Alex. “I get the feeling that bringing Kevin here was not such a great idea.”

  “You’re right, ” Michael agreed. “It wasn ’t.”

  Alex turned abruptly to him, his lips tighter than usual. It seemed that he was about to say something when Ross ’s voice interjected , “Mike, can you tell us what you were printing? If it’s not a secret.”

  Michael didn’t respond immediately.

  “Do I have to answer?” he asked, finally.

  “Of course not, ” Ross said, smiling. “But we ’re all friends here.”

  “Then I won’t.”

  Ross stopped smiling.

  “Unless . . .” Michael ’s eyes went around the table, “everyone wants to hear it.”

  “Not me,” Kevin said quickly.

  Chris glanced at him.

  “It’s your call, Mike. Really.”

  “Why would we even care?” Brandon said. “It ’s a very odd conversation to have anyway.”

  “Glad to hear that, ” Michael looked at Alex, keeping his poker face. “Then it seems like the topic has played out.”

  Alex nodded silently. Michael turned to Ross.

  “By the way, it ’s funny that you wanted to know what I was doing there.”

  “Why?” Ross replied dryly.

  “Because you could have just as well asked whether I was there at all.”

  Kevin’s long face became even longer.

  “Michael, what are you talking about?”

  Michael smiled.

  “The same thing you were talking about. The facts.”

  He rose.

  “I was at the library, printing a map. Anyone want a drink? I ’ll be back shortly.”

  He glanced briefly to his right and headed to the bar. Alan, whose heavy thoughts had faded to some degree in light of this conversation, followed his look. There, in the corner, two tables away from them sat Ed, writing something hurriedly in his gray notebook.

  Today’s speeches were quite engaging. All different and yet all the same. You could tell—this was a gathering of professionals. Who , just like their speeches , are all different and yet all the same. And all —to the last one—are children of this age. Products of this society. The society in which every single leader wants to be liked. Wants to charm. Wants to seduce. And never, under no circumstances, intimidate. They ’ve been trying so hard that at times they looked like politicians during election season.

  It hasn’t always been this way. Times have changed. Gone are the days where a person in charge was first and foremost a preacher of The Idea. Be it the idea of royal rule or of world domination, but it was there—the cornerstone of true leadership.

  Back in those days, today’s speeches would ’ve sounded ridiculous. Clumsy. Pathetic. Who would cho o se to follow a man who behaves like a lackey? A ruler who seeks approval of his every action? Oh , please! The man leading a crowd must inspire people to follow him —n o, not even him —The Idea. This is what he has to do, instead of kissing -up to the crowd. A society not bound by The Idea is nothing but a pack of apes , t he Bandar-Log : a bunch of screeching monkeys, where each member cares only about filling his belly, scratching, getting laid and showing everyone around that he is somehow better than they are , or at least different. And this kind of society spawns matching leaders. They don ’t understand that a leader who seeks money instead of power is a joke. Many of the most powerful people in history were not the richest people of their age. They were playing in a different league. They had something that ’s better than money : power.

  And even the Bandar-Log need a true leader.

  That was the topic of that memorable history class many, many moons ago. The good-natured stout teacher spent quite some time—and to his credit, without becoming boring—driving home his idea that there was no such thing as universal human values. The enormous variety of world cultures, he said, demonstrates how illfated any attempt to identify such values would be. What we take for granted and see as the most natural way to behave would not necessarily seem the most natural to others. Common values are a myth, he said. Behaviors—yes . I nstincts—yes. But not values.

  And he was throwing us example after example. Parental love? Ha! May I remind you of Sparta , where weak newborns were thrown off the cliff as assets, not valuable for the state. Or think of China where just two hundred years ago , parents—with great hope, mind you—were lining up their young boys for surgery that would make imperial eunuchs out of them. And that—listen to this number!—despite the fact that only one out of eight would survive that cruel barbaric procedure.

  Nowadays, he likely would ’ve also mentioned places where some parents proudly take pictures of their three-year -olds wrapped up in kid-size d belts packed with fake explosives.

  Gender relationships? Ha-ha! Monogamy, polygamy, matriarchate, patriarchate, open marriage —and that ’s just for starters. In one country you can ’t get married, in another state you can ’t get a divorce, in the third country one spouse is the property of another . . .

  The famous self-preservation instinct? Ha-ha-ha! I think the word “kamikaze ” would suffice . Again, nowadays he would ’ve had a fresher example to make his point.

  Religion? After the emergence of states, where the only truly practiced religion was atheism and the spared churches were turned into desolate museums, you can ’t seriously bring it up in this discussion.

  You have to realize, my friends, that ethics, morale, the very concepts of good and evil—all of this varies from culture to culture, from nation to nation, from age to age. Only physiology stands unshaken.

  He was noticeably enjoying himself telling us these simple truths , and by and large he was right. Almost right. But there was that little “always ,” and so I had to interrupt him. And it became a complete moment of truth for him when I said that a universal common human value does exist. It holds this title alone, but this makes it even more important. What is it? he demanded, ready for a quick and easy victorious argument. And I told him.

  The lust for power.

  It’s universal. It is as old as mankind itself. It ’s been present in every society, ranging from the prehistoric cannibal tribe to the humongous modern state. No matter what it looked like, its essence has always stayed the same. And this essence depend s neither on time nor on geography. Power is the common denominator that has been at the foundation of all societ ies , since the first humans walked the earth.

  He argued, he argued fiercely, but something in his words and tone was giving him away. This time he did
n ’t believe his own words. He was arguing because he had to. Curiously enough, he was the only person in the class who had fully realized what I said. After all, he was a history teacher, and a good one , too. The students in the class were already beyond the point of no return—all brainwashed, all halfway to maturing into ripe Bandar-Log . They were listening to our argument and profoundly agreeing with him, with his words abou t the inevitability of democracy in any society. While he, speaking that sweet lie, was wholeheartedly agreeing with me.

  Chapte r Five

  “I didn’t know you smoked,” Stella said, extending her hands towards the fire.

  Robert shook his head slightly.

  “I don’t.”

  “Then how come you have a lighter with you?”

  “Because I don ’t venture into the woods without it.”

  “But you didn ’t know we ’d end up in the woods, right?”

  “Right,” agreed Robert. “I didn ’t know.”

  Stella looked at him with growing irritation.

  Her short brownish hair had almost dried by now and fluffed up rebelliously. No matter how hard she tried to sleek it down, in the absence of a comb it stubbornly refused to be tamed . And this Robert! He looked at her efforts without a shade of sympathy or even a smile.

  “It must be really hard, ” she said, finally.

  “What?”

  “To be a superman all the time. Every day, every minute. Even the real Superman worked shifts.”

  Now he would just have to protest. Now he would have to say that he was in no way a superman. He may even get embarrassed. But instead he said , “Not really. It was only hard at the beginning.”

  “You get used to it?” Stella didn ’t even try to hi de her sarcasm.

  “Yep,” Robert agreed again.

  Stella quieted gloomily, staring into the fire. All of a sudden she felt an itch to snort, make a face, stick her tongue out and call him some names she hadn ’t used since middle school. And after that , it ’d be good to get up, head for the forest and disappear in the woods. Yes, just like that! So that he would get to his feet , too , and trump behind her.

  But no, he won’t trump. Not this one. She had almost drowned and he had jumped into the water. Had he swam to her two sec onds later , he would be sitting here alone now, w hile she would be floating face down over there.

 

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