The Clout of Gen

by Ahmad Ardalan

  Smoking a pipe, Yaturo said, “By the end of the day, you will have a clear picture of the whole matter and how it all began. For now, let’s enjoy some dinner. You will need all your strength.”

  Snakehead mudfish fillet was served: two fried fillets pieces, along with steamed vegetables on the side. The meal was delicious, which came as no surprise to John, who’d already reasoned that Yaturo had impeccable taste in everything. After two glasses of white wine, they were finished. John did notice that Yaturo hardly ate anything at all, and he found that a bit strange.

  With a file in his hand, Yaturo led John to the garden terrace on the fourth floor. John had noticed how beautiful it was when they’d first arrived at the palace, but up close, it was even more spectacular. It offered a full view of the front gardens, as well as the fountains below. There were several large sculptures and a mosaic wall of a heavenly garden. It was no wonder Yaturo had chosen that place for their talk because it seemed to be a heavenly place; the peaceful ambiance would ease John’s volcanic feeling.

  Yaturo started talking about his childhood, his family business, and his interests, all of which John was already aware because of his thorough research. Yaturo had been born to a rich family of business owners. He explained to John that despite his love for his father and the family business, the two had a very different vision. Yaturo had always been a very ambitious man, an initiator, while his father tended to play it safe. Yaturo’s father was quite content with what he had and didn’t bother to put much effort into reaching the next level.

  Yaturo also bragged about being a leader in college and was proud of the profound influence he’d had on his colleagues. He was the head of several student clubs, and he traveled to different areas of Japan to promote them and increase membership. He was a strong believer in the youth movement.

  After college, with his degree in hand, he began to handle some of his father’s businesses. He wasn’t afraid to take chances, and that led to a rocky on-again/off-again relationship with his father. To avoid further clashes, Yaturo decided to continue his master’s in the States. Upon completing those advanced studies, he returned to Japan. He was more mature, experienced, educated, and driven, and he promptly forced himself into the higher echelons of his father’s business.

  Yaturo had no shame in going on and on about himself for more than two hours, but John was happy to listen intently. ”On May 18, 1967, my life changed forever,” Yaturo announced. “It was the grand opening of our steel factory, a factory I had convinced my father to start up. I outlined the benefits of it and showed him how profitable it would be in a short period of time, and he finally listened to me.”

  “The steel factory was monumental for you?” John asked, trying to understand.

  “Well, it wasn’t the factory that changed my life. Rather, it was what happened the day of its grand opening. The factory was crowded with reporters, guests, and governmental officials because it was the opening of the biggest steel factory in Asia. It was a landmark for Kyoto and for Japan in general. We had planned for the opening for weeks, and it was catered by the finest company in Kyoto. It was a truly amazing, extravagant event, and cameras were everywhere. I had never been so proud, but I had a feeling it was only the beginning of something much grander. The years that followed proved that to be true…far more than I could have imagined. Everything went perfectly as planned, and everyone was impressed with the tour of the factory facilities. The reporters and journalists flocked to the news conference, and everyone knew their role and played their part.

  “While I was enjoying the moment, I was approached by a gentleman that—to this day—I wish I’d never met. He congratulated me, and we talked for a few minutes about the factory and the effect it would undoubtedly have on the economy in general. I could tell from his accent and his clothing and appearance that he was eastern European. He was tall, with an athletic build, in his early thirties. He had dark black hair and very glowing blue eyes. In fact, I couldn’t help but stare at his eyes because I had never seen such bright blue eyes before. He asked if we could talk somewhere alone and claimed he had something extremely important to tell me. Naïve as I was, I took him to my office on the upper floors of the factory while everyone else was busy mingling outdoors. Looking back, I should have been suspicious, because he was reluctant to say who he was, though he did tell me his identity wasn’t important.

  “He seemed even stranger when he began to talk. He mentioned the importance of having the power to control events, to influence people to make the right choices for the betterment of mankind. He told me how good the world would be if the politicians really chose what would be best for the population and businessmen strived to improve the economy. He went on and on, and I was confused about the relevance of it all to me or the opening of our steel factory. I really didn’t understand what he was implying, what this control was that he talked about. I was convinced that I had wasted my time. I was angry at myself for deserting my guests to talk to a madman. Nevertheless, since I’d agreed to speak with him, I decided I would let him finish.

  “The more he talked, though, the more uncomfortable I became. When he noticed how distracted and uncomfortable I was, he finally took an envelope out of his coat and told me to have a look at it. He said that if its contents convinced me of the truth of his words, I should meet him at the Kiyomizu-dera Temple three days later, at two p.m. He left the envelope on the desk and stood to leave. I politely took the envelope, folded it, and placed it in my suit pocket. I then showed him the way down and returned to the crowd and the festivities to enjoy the fruits of our success.

  “I totally forgot about the envelope the next day, as it was a busy day, being the first official day of work at the factory. Everything was hectic, and I didn’t want to risk any mistakes being made. Concentration was of utmost importance. I was running around the factory checking one thing after another, and it was an exciting but tiresome day.

  “When I finally returned home at around eight p.m., I took off my suit and was just about to hang it up when I noticed the envelope sticking out of the pocket. I grabbed it and opened it just out of curiosity. Inside the envelope were three pages. The first two contained the numbers of the Nikkei stock market, and the third was a report of the results of a Tokyo horserace. I checked the papers again and noticed that stock reports contained figures for that day and the next as well. I quickly called one of our financial advisors and asked him about the day’s market prices. I couldn’t believe it, but every detail matched what was written on the pages the blue-eyed stranger had given me the day before. I thanked the stockbroker and told him I would pay him a visit the next day to check on the figures again. The next day was conclusive. The strange man’s predictions came out to be 100 percent correct.

  “I booked an urgent flight to Tokyo that same day to catch the races at the Fucho track. There I was, sitting in Tokyo watching a horserace when it was the second day of operation for our new steel factory. I could hardly believe it myself. I had left all my work behind. I wasn’t much of a racing fan, but I had to know if the results held true. They did.

  “At that point, questions began flying around in my head. Who was that guy? And how did he know what the exact outcomes would be in the stock market and on the racetrack? Is he into something…something strange, or were the events predetermined, fixed somehow? Truly, John, the questions I had are probably the same ones you are asking yourself now. I took it as calmly as possible, and there was nothing that would stop me from meeting him at the temple the next day. I wanted answers, just as you do,” added Yaturo.

  John recalled what he’d read about the temple in his research. Kiyomizu-dera Temple dated back to 798 and was one of the UNESCO World Heritage Sites of ancient Kyoto. It took its name from the waterfall that ran down from the surrounding hills; in fact, Kiyomizu meant “pure water.” It was considered a main attraction in Kyoto.

  Yaturo went on, “I went to the temple to meet the stranger, just as he instructed.
I got there about fifteen minutes early, but exactly at two p.m., the stranger arrived. He was dressed in a more casual way this time, with big black sunglasses that concealed his blue eyes, as well as a large portion of his face. He looked paler, and it seemed he hadn’t shaved since the last time we’d met. He was wearing a long navy-blue button-down shirt that was a bit tight, revealing his muscular physique. On his legs were brilliant white trousers, and he carried a sports bag on his back.

  “The first thing he said to me was, ‘How much money did you make from the horses, Hitari?’ and he started laughing from behind the toothpick that he had hanging from his mouth.

  “I was very offended. Who the hell did the guy think he was? I wasn’t in the mood for any jokes, and I quickly told him that I would be informing the police that he was involved with a match-fixing scandal of some sort.

  “The stranger laughed again and began speaking in a louder voice. ‘I am going to help you change the world, Hitari. Don’t waste my time with the police.’

  “I told him I was serious and that I didn’t want to be part of anything illegal. ‘I will turn you in,’ I said.

  “He then replied, ‘It’s no use, my friend. I don’t even exist. I haven’t been born yet.’

  “My heart nearly stopped beating when he said that. I could hardly breathe. He gave me some water and bought us the entry tickets, and we went inside. I hadn’t expected that at all, and again I had so many questions. Was the guy telling the truth? Was he from the future? Did they really find a way? Before I even said a word,” Yaturo said, “the blue-eyed man seemed to read my mind. With all the confidence in the world, he said, ‘Hitari, you are a physicist. You know that with advancements in science, this is all very possible, and it has happened. I can tell you of events that will occur seventy years from now.’

  “I began shaking when he told me that. I couldn’t believe science had finally figured it out, but be seemed certain of it. He then asked me to follow him to the main hall of the temple, the part known in the old days as the place where the leap of faith was done. It was said that if one had a wish and desired it to become true, one should jump thirteen meters. If the jumper survived, the wish would be granted. The stranger said to me, ‘Hitari, this is your leap of faith. It’s your choice. You have the control, and you can change things for the better with what I can give you. I will approach one person only, and I have decided that that person should be you.’

  “The temptation was too hard to resist. I gave in, and he asked me to suggest a quiet place where we could talk. We ended up at the club—at the same club, John, where you found my picture a few days ago. That talk consisted of five of the most difficult hours of my life. He had everything planned, down to the smallest detail, and he left nothing out. He assured me once more, saying I was the only one he would ever contact and that through me everything would be put in place. He assured me the world would be safer and lives would be saved if I followed through. He then explained his reasons for selecting me, stating that I was the perfect match because I am honest, hardworking, intelligent, and ambitious. He said it was because I am an adventurer, a risk-taker, and because I was already successful and educated.

  “He then removed a blue file folder out of his bag. Inside it were many files, and the first one he gave me was mine. It was divided into three parts. The first part consisted of ten front and back pages, containing information about major events that would happen in the years ahead. It discussed everything—wars, natural disasters, science breakthroughs, media events, the establishment of powerful companies, influential business mergers, and key political actions that would have a worldwide impact. The document mentioned specific countries, cities, presidents and royalty, actors, athletes, and geniuses. Right there in my hands, I had a taste of the future.

  “The second part was about thirteen pages long, and it was all about making easy money. It contained all the numbers of major stock markets, looking ahead for years and years. It explained which companies to invest in and when and why, as well as the people behind the companies. It also included the results of all major sporting events, listing champions in each. I knew who would hit a grand slam for the next twenty years, and it even predicted the Super Bowl winner for 2000. I knew who would score in the World Cup football final and the precise minute that the winning goal would be scored. With the information in that file alone, I could have been the richest man in the world.

  “The third part of the file was only two pages long, but it was the most important part, he informed me. ‘This is the part that will allow you to change history, Hitari,’ the man said. It outlined my responsibilities, a list of industries I should be associated with in great detail. It even told me what factories I should start up, giving their exact location, time of startup, and the amount of money I should invest in them.

  “He then took out the remaining files. Those were the most tiresome and dull, in my opinion. It was a list of thirty people from around the world, all chosen by him. He said my job would be to visit them and give them their files at the exact time written on each of their respective files. He was very strict in telling me, ‘These individuals can never know the source of this information. They must never find out who you are.’

  “Their files were smaller than mine, only three pages in each. There was a page outlining their responsibilities, and the remaining two explained how to make money. Some provided advanced information about stock investments or what industries and companies they should focus on. Some of them were tasked with the responsibility of passing knowledge on to others. It was something like a web, growing and growing,” continued Yaturo.

  “Our discussion was interrupted many times because the man needed fresh air. He didn’t seem to be feeling well. He claimed he was a bit nauseous, and he blamed it on some food he’d eaten the day before. So, once in a while, we ventured outside. I smoked my pipe, and he played with his toothpick. But every time, when we went back inside, he continued from right where we left off. He was in control, and he explained to me how my approach to each person, each one of the thirty contacts, would be. He offered a simple plan. ‘Approach each one of them the same way I approached you,’ he said. ‘Bait them with a tidbit of important information in the beginning and schedule a meeting two days later. The only difference will be that during your meetings, you will simply hand them the file and go away without a word.’ He told me I would always be disguised and that my disguise would have to change each time so that I never used the same disguise twice. He also informed me that I should always incorporate some protection from a distance, just in case. When he realized that made me a tad bit uneasy, he said, ‘I am from the future, Hitari. Don’t worry. You won’t be hurt. You will live to a nice old age, but precaution is always a good idea.’

  “At that point, I still had some doubts. I wondered what I was getting into. Whenever I dazed off, it was as if he could read what I was thinking. When he sensed something was wrong or that I was starting to doubt him, he knew just the words to draw me back in. Finally, the guy stood up and said, ‘Wars will come. There will be some you can stop and others you can’t, but believe me, Hitari, if you don’t do what I have told you to do, things will be gravely worse. You should be proud of all the things you will achieve. You will play a vital role in stopping the Cold War, preventing poverty, and so much more.’

  “I then asked him if we would meet again, and he answered, ‘No. I will look exactly like this twenty-three years after you die.’ When he said that, I knew I had one last chance to ask him my burning question. I asked him who he was, and he gave me a wicked smile and replied, ‘I suppose you deserve to know, Hitari. It’s Alexi.’ He went toward the door and looked back at me and said, ‘Udachi!’” Before John could ask the question, Yaturo anticipated it and answered with a smile, “I checked it out later. It means ‘good luck’ in Russian! After he said that, he went away, and I never saw him again.”

  “So what did you do next?” John inquired.

 
“Well, after he left, I had two things on my mind. First, I had to keep those files safe. I knew I needed to contact a security company, as the files I held in my hands were worth more than one could imagine. And second, I needed a sketch artist right away. I wanted to have a sketch of the person I had met. I wasn’t sure if everything he had told me was true, and I still didn’t trust him completely. Believe me, John, I have been on the lookout for that strange man from day one as the years have passed. Like you, I have been obsessed with discovering the truth.”

  John had interrupted very little during Yaturo’s talk. He was focused on taking in every detail and had been furiously scribbling down notes. He was utterly hypnotized and mesmerized by the strange tale, and every time he thought he had an understanding of it, the story only became more complicated, spawned more questions.

  After John had listened to Yaturo for well over an hour, the storyteller stopped and began simply gazing up at the stars. Clearly, he was ready for rest.

  John, on the other hand, was anxious to hear more. “Yaturo, tell me more. What did you do next?”

  Yaturo sighed heavily from fatigue and graciously continued, “Well, I set up the security room you saw and spent five or six hours a day reading the papers Alexi gave me. I still had time before I was supposed to make my first contact around seven months later. It felt amazing knowing so much, especially since I believed I was doing it all for an admirable, honorable cause—to help the human race.