by Madlen Namro
face to face. She’d certainly be in less danger with Levi. They parted ways. Levi started towards Chinatown.
He’d never enjoyed the company of the Chinese but knew
Kaminsky loved them. The sheer numbers of their
population were enough reason to treat them as a valuable
source of potential followers.
The streets stank. Seafood stalls sprawled in every
direction and their merchandise seemed to have seen better
days. Children were chasing after rats while adults stared at
them as they walked by. Jo was shocked at the scale of
mutational deformations she saw around her with their
heads too big and their faces disfigured.
They passed restaurants, video arcades, dirty, rundown
tenements. They walked on briskly, apparently with a
specific destination in mind. Jo had no idea why Levi had chosen this particular neighbourhood to search for the caliph and he had not explained anything to her so far. They passed Mott street with its famous Buddhist temple still standing. At one point it used to house a collection of
over a hundred and fifty golden statuettes of Buddha. The district had greatly expanded in the last several
dozen years. It had spread over the former Italian and
Jewish neighbourhoods along with several other, smaller
areas. It was fast becoming a separate, colourful town in the
middle of the metropolis. As they marched, Jo could feel
the eyes of terrifying golden dragons fixed on her from
behind the display windows. She noticed a strange sign
floating overhead. It read “Welcome to the Chinese
Laundry.”
“What’s this all about?” she asked Levi.
“In the 19th century the Chinese immigrants in New
York were allowed to either work in factories or run their
own businesses, mainly restaurants and laundrettes. That’s
where the slogan comes from.”
“I’m not sure about their laundry skills, but I must
admit Chinese cuisine is close to perfection.”
“I’d sure like a Chickenspace with a Nappy and a
genetic pill.”
“Bah, I’d even go for a fried rat on a stick.” They
looked at each other, suddenly realising how hungry they
were, but there was no time to stop for a meal.
“Why didn’t we take the subway?” she asked, giving
him a questioning look.
“Kaminsky’s men would spot us immediately. He has
informants everywhere, not to mention a legion of dirty
cops at his disposal.” She involuntarily glanced at a police
patrol across the street.
“How come you know the city so well?” she asked the
commodore. After all, he’d spent most of his life in the
skies, but now he walked with the confidence of a man
born and raised in New York.
“I read a lot,” he replied, dismissing her question with a
shrug before quickening his pace. After several more
minutes, they finally stopped in front of a colourful shop
decorated in red.
One look at the doorway sent a flash of memories
through Levi’s head. Twenty -five years ago, at his own
expense, he’d attended a military-esoteric training course in
this very place. He’d passed all the tests and as one of the
most promising students was selected to be taught by the
alchemy grandmaster himself, a man skilled in telepathy,
revered for his power and wisdom. The greatest lesson he
got here was: before enlightenment – carry water and chop
wood, once enlightened – (you will) carry water and chop
wood. The two months in the back of this shop had
changed his life entirely.
The man who managed to completely alter Levi’s view
of the world was called Mao, a quiet and humble man,
righteous and courageous. For sixty days, he’d shared one
meal a day with Levi who would spend the rest of the day
carrying a heavy closet from place to place as instructed. It
was here that he’d finally understood what Wu Chi stood
for – the power of stillness. He’d learnt to listen to his own
body so that he could later hear the body of his enemy and
thus predict his intentions. Using Y (the mind) in combat
was the factor determining the outcome of every
confrontation. The commodore glanced at Jo who stood
next to him shuffling her feet impatiently.
“Come on.” He pulled her sleeve and entered the tiny
fish store.
The interior seemed grim, despite the tiny lanterns
hanging from the gold painted walls. Whatever it was, it
certainly did not look like a typical fish shop.
After a moment an old Chinese man with a thin goatee
and hair tied loosely behind his back appeared from the
back.
“Commodore Levi, welcome. What brings you back to
my humble shop?”
Jo twitched, surprised that the two men knew each
other.
“I’m looking for Kaminsky.”
The man poured Nappy into tall glasses and handed
them to the commandos.
“Right, that much I’d expect.” He raised his glass in a
silent toast. “Have a drink. They should be serving our
meal shortly.”
They sipped at the beverage and sat at the table. “You must be Jo.” He turned to the woman.
“Mao is a telepath and an alchemist,” Levi explained.
“He must have sensed us coming and…”
They both looked at the glasses in their hands. “I understand we’ll be having Chickenspaces next?”
She smiled nervously.
“Best there is, I assure you!” The Chinese man smiled
back at her, while two women carrying plates appeared. He
waited until they left before turning back to the
commodore, very serious all of a sudden.
“Kaminsky is in the city, in Manhattan, in one of his
offices.” He kept his eyes fixed on Levi as he spoke. “I understand that’s a fact, not another vision?” Jo did
not try to hide her scepticism.
“A vision naturally.” The man gave her a stern look.
“Facts… I leave those to you commandos.”
Jo felt she’d had enough of this occult nonsense. She
stood to leave, but Levi grabbed her arm and pulled her
back down.
“Sit down.” The tone of his voice ruled out any
argument. “Mao is one of the greatest masters of his art on
the planet. I trust him fully and he’s never made me doubt
him. I’d never have found Victor without him. It was he
who told me Laura was still alive...”
“Commodore,” she decided to interrupt him, “there’s
no time.”
“No need to hurry, my friends.” The Chinese man
smiled. “The one you’re looking for will come to you on
his own accord.”
“You mean he knows we are here?” Levi asked. “In my vision he knew and he was waiting for you, all
four of you.” He took a sip from his glass and added,
“Besides, Victor was here with another man less than a few
minutes ago.”
Levi frowned, now as surprised as Jo.
“That’s understandable. After all, he’s a tracker, not to
mention one of the best students of my best friend from
Japan.” He scratc
hed his chin. “Go to Manhattan. You will
find men who’ll lead you to the caliph. And now…” He
raised his glass again. “Help yourselves to the food. You’ll
need a lot of energy in the hours to come.”
* * * *
Victor and David walked casually down the streets of Manhattan, once one of the most beautiful parts of New York. Less than a hundred years ago, it used to be one of the wealthiest city districts in the world, swarming with rich and powerful businessmen, bankers and stockbrokers. Ever since 2001 and the tragic terrorist attack on the World Trade Centre, the city’s signature landmark, the number of Manhattan residents gradually decreased. Today, less than five hundred thousand people live here, mostly AfroAmerican and Hispanic.
After the bombing of the Statue of Liberty in 2142, most of the office buildings were deserted. The once exclusive neighbourhoods were quickly overtaken by the populations from New York’s traditional slum districts and the city itself became an arena of ethnic and cultural conflicts.
Wall Street, a place once epitomising the popular saying ‘time is money’, was now fully under the control of local gangs and one of the favourite hideouts of the world’s greatest terrorist.
“Look,” David said quietly, “the Trinity Church. I thought it was destroyed.”
They both looked curiously at the square tower of the Episcopal Church.
“I can’t believe what the fuckers did with the world’s biggest commercial centre,” Victor snarled angrily after taking a look around.
“Yup, that’s how they floored the entire financial system of the United Nations.” David nodded. “By the way, how do you know the Chinese man was right? Are you sure Kaminsky is in one of those skyscrapers?”
“Mao is a mind crafter. I was once a student of one of his friends.”
“Are you serious? A mind crafter? I’ve heard that telepathy is basically a simple broadband transmission of electromagnetic signals emitted by our brains, you know… like a radio.”
“There’s also another layer to the waves, David, the energetic dimension, called mana. Mana can be one of the most destructive forces on earth. It can penetrate rock like light penetrates a window pane.”
“There are other similar phenomena too. I’ve heard a theory about waves exceeding a milliwatt of power. They could be received and interpreted from hundreds of thousands of kilometres away.”
“Yes, we’ve actually had a communications device built to use them, strictly for military purposes mind you, but the terrorists broadcast enough distortion to make such things pretty useless. But telepathy… Kaminsky managed to combine telepathic abilities with something he believes to be magic. Anyway, the closer he is to another mind crafter, the easier he becomes to track down. But there is one thing that worries me in all this…”
“What’s that?”
“I think Kaminsky might have used Mao to lead us to him, which would mean he knows about us and wants us to find him. He could be waiting for us… and then…”
David shivered and Victor frowned even more. He knew that Mao often drank a concoction of the Aya-Huasca plant. Apparently it had some hallucinogenic effect which facilitated mental contacts with his students regardless of the distance. If a student was able to contact him, Kaminsky could have done it without breaking a sweat and, once inside Mao’s mind, it would not have been difficult to use him, as the caliph was much more powerful.
“Kaminsky seems to know a lot, doesn’t he?”
“He always used to tell us to learn as only knowledge can make a man free.”
Victor stopped in front of another skyscraper, this time the tallest building in the world. In a blink of an eye people disappeared from the street… and they were surrounded by armed men in black uniforms.
“They got us.”
“So it would seem. But they’re not shooting. Apparently I was right. The caliph is inside and he wants to speak to us.”
“Before he kills us…”
“He’ll want to bleed us a bit first…”
An athletic man stepped out from the group and motioned at them to follow him. They entered the building. Before the door shut behind them, they turned back to see the life in the street returning to normal. Cats, dogs, children and adults all returned to their everyday lives.
The commandos were stripped of their weapons and readers. After that, they waited at gunpoint for several minutes before they were joined by Levi and Jo.
“Shit…” Victor hissed through his teeth.
“I hoped they wouldn’t get them,” David whispered.
“Unfortunately, Charles is one of Mao’s students.”
David blinked in surprise. Every passing minute unravelled new, astonishing information about the members of their group. Still, none of them was prepared for the things they were about to find out that night. The sun was slowly setting outside while the four tired, disarmed soldiers of the United Nations were lead to a meeting with the world’s greatest terrorist. Their chances to get out of this alive were less than comforting. As the elevator sped towards the penthouse floor, each of them realised that they would need a miracle to save them now. Unfortunately, the recent years had proven miracles were rather hard to come by.
The elevator stopped. Escorted by the armed men, they stepped out and followed a long corridor until they faced another group of guards, this time robotic. The machines scanned their eyes and screened them again for the presence of any sharp or dangerous objects. One of the robots reached to Victor’s belt and removed his commando knife, which the guards downstairs had missed. The blade was then attached to the robot’s magnetised chassis. The doors in front of them opened with a hiss and the commandos were lead inside.
Two more robots were waiting in the room, along with a black co-operator and two guards whose weapons were firmly pointed at the commandos. Behind them stood a stout man with dark, slightly greyish hair. His gray, elegant suit did not conceal his muscular posture. He turned towards them with the greed of a predator in his eyes. He slowly approached them, stroking his beard ever more anxiously with every step.
“Well, well, well… look who’s here.” Hatred erupted in his eyes and his voice trembled uncontrollably. “A UN commando who once joined our ranks just to betray us shamelessly!” His eyes moved from David to Jo. “Joanna, are you an apparition raised from the dead?” He smiled at her and the woman trembled involuntarily, suddenly terrified. Now he was looking at Victor. “My second wife’s wayward son … I expected you to rot in that prison!” The tracker had to look down; the intensity in the caliph’s eyes was unbearable. “And last but not least… the famed yogi. To be frank, you’re the last person I would have expected to see here Charles.”
The commandos turned their heads on cue to look at Levi. How did he know his name? None of them could know that the commodore and the caliph had met before.
“Just as I’d never expect a learned cabalist to become a murderer,” Levi retorted, not in any way discouraged by Kaminsky’s ostentatious laughter.
“It’s not common for a cabalist to face a yogi. Pity it had to be like this,” Kaminsky said, visibly pleased with himself. “But I see you haven’t mentioned our little adventure together to your friends, have you?” He spun around and walked to the window. “A lot will be unravelled today, my friends… before you die.” He turned again to face them. “Charles, I’d be happy to hear you tell them of how we met.”
Levi bit his lip, but remained silent. His friends could see his anger was almost ready to erupt. His fists were clenched and his eyes were fixed on his target. The commodore was getting ready to attack. If anyone had ever deserved to die a violent death it was Kaminsky. The commodore prayed for a chance to finally kill him. One of the guards approached Levi from behind and painfully prodded him with his rifle, making a clear point. Amused, Kaminsky walked closer.
“I’m waiting!” he bellowed. “I’d start talking if I was you,” he shouted straight into the commando’s ear.
Levi shrugged. “Yoga is an art of both physical and mental exercise,” he started. “The Cabal studies the connection between mind, body and soul. Yoga was first created to allow its practitioners a closer contact with the Devine and the Cabal had similar goals,” he said, trying very hard not to even blink. “Over twenty years ago, a master of alchemy, you all met him today, decided to combine these two worlds by accepting two apprentices at the same time, a yogi following the rules of the tree of yoga and a cabalist living according to the rules of the tree of life.”
“A beautiful introduction, Charles. You’ve always had a talent for lofty speeches.” Kaminsky stroked his beard. “Do go on.”
“After a series of difficult general knowledge quizzes, I was sent here, to New York, together with…” He glanced at Kaminsky and the commandos were now certain who the other student was.
“Our task was to train our bodies and souls. Still, I always tried to remain faithful to the rules I came to believe in, truth…”
“Truth is relative,” Kaminsky jumped in.
“Freedom from violence, from greed, from envy…”
“I think we’ve had this dispute before. I proved to you that all that is nothing but your subjective perspective…” Kaminsky tried to argue.
Levi continued as if not interrupted, looking at his companions.
“We spent two months together, two months of constant, hard work. We were together twenty-four hours a day, but we could only discuss subjects allowed by Mao. We ate once a day and meditated for hours. The asceticism was meant to open our minds to visions, teach us telepathy and mastery of controlling our own minds.”
“I’ll give it to Mao, he did create a path to selfawareness and knowledge which needed only a few adjustments,” Kaminsky commented again.
“The technological commotion in our world, our social alienation, money and power, all this and much more made me believe that spiritual development is the only viable way to follow. I needed to be strong and I don’t just mean physically, to be able to train commandos who would once confront our enemy. The future of those people was in my hands. I had to gain enough wisdom to be able to cope with this responsibility. I wanted to give the United Nations a unit of a new quality of soldiers, wise and highly trained; something the world had never seen before.”
“What a load of shit!” the caliph snorted. “Your ideals are nothing compared to my creations. Your way of thinking almost made me kill you twice that time we were together, and I would have if it hadn’t been for Mao. For a while, I feared you might become a dangerous adversary. Luckily for me, you fled to the skies, sitting in that pathetic little ship of yours…”
