"Wake up, Yuri," said Irina as her warm body leaned against his. Irina moved Yuri's head back and forth, delicately. When Yuri opened his eyes, she smiled. She kissed him for a long time, then got out of bed.

Yuri remembered the words "...but this will not be possible until the love of an Indian maiden can warm up his enormous heart of ice."

Yuri had dreamed about an old man in some remote location: 33 degrees south and 70 degrees west. He had dreamed about people who did not exist: Don Vergara, Tensing, Igor.

He sat up in bed and saw the light of spring in Moscow enter through the window.

"Irina," he asked. "What day is today?"

"May 12, a Saturday," replied Irina from the floor below.

Someone knocked at the door. Yuri heard some laughter and some animated conversation. Then Irina yelled out.

"Yuri, Grigori is waiting for you. Come down, I've prepared some breakfast for both of you. I'll be back in an hour."

The two men met in the small living room. Grigori was drinking his tea with great pleasure. Professor Tokarev bowed slightly and sat down by his side.

"Yuri, you must leave now and go to this address," said the old man and handed Tokarev a card. "I will meet you there in two hours. Two hours exactly, Yuri. We cannot be late. We are going to a meeting in a building that belongs to the Ministry of Defense."

Professor Tokarev felt as if someone had just slapped him across the face.

"What is going on?" said Yuri, with some hesitation.

"Come on, lad, what are you so scared about?" Grigori was laughing. "We have organized a committee and we need your active participation."

"This has to do with the article that I published in the journal, right Grigori?"

"To a degree, yes, to a degree..." the old man replied, looking straight into Yuri's eyes.

Everything had become silent. Yuri stood up, walked a few steps, and stood before the window, watching the sidewalk.

"Grigori," he asked, "how is it that you didn't find anything in Mount Ararat?"

"Well, my boy, I did find something resting upon the summit, a missile from another era. It was that ancient vessel that is remembered as Noah's Ark. A professor of comparative religions should know that is where it remained. It floated down after the Great Flood. Because of the good judgement of someone to whom the future was revealed, everything could begin anew.

"Why is it that nobody else saw it?" said Yuri, still staring at the sidewalk.

"It is mental," the old man replied.

As Grigori's words continued to echo within Yuri's ear, he began to realize who Grigori really was. He approached Grigori, as the old man quietly sipped his tea.

"Teacher, the launching will take place in the eighties, is that correct?"

"That is correct, my son. But no one will be able to help us until we have been able to change some things in people's minds."

"Teacher, in my dream I ended up by running away, and that is why I fell into an abyss. I did not have time to pass my report on to other people, and they could not do a thing."

"You see," said Grigori, "if you had been able to cure your paranoid tendency, none of that would have happened. You were born during the war. You were still very young when bullets started flying all around. However, if you have now been able to change that within you, and if you know the future, you can produce a change in the general scheme of events."

The old man was now standing before Yuri.

"We are attracting a few people towards a certain point," he declared. We will place them inside of our ark and project them towards the future. Then they will see the explosion beforehand. When they return, they will understand that they are capable of changing some tendencies and will begin to work together."

Yuri was listening to the guardian of the mountain, and seemed to recognize every word he said.

"You know, my son, there have been other times in history when we have been able to provoke a small change in direction. A small change, but enough to prevent catastrophe."

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