| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 |

MAY 26

The next morning, Yuri received extensive instructions from a Ministry employee, along with a list of Foreign Affairs officers he should contact. Throughout the meeting, Yuri had a strong sensation of unreality. He hadn’t slept all night. Yesterday’s experience haunted him and had thrown him into a world of uncertainty.

In the afternoon, Yuri met Jose Fuentes. He couldn’t tell Jose that he was going on a blind mission -- Yuri didn’t even know exactly what he would be looking for. Nevertheless, he asked his Bolivian friend a few questions about "the Doctrine." Then he pleaded that Jose give him a way to contact followers in Latin America, since that group was not mentioned in the book that Grigori provided. How could they remain unknown to the intelligence services? Surely, the services must have tracked down organizations of this type for months. In any case, Jose gave him the addresses of people he personally knew in Rio de Janeiro, La Paz, and Santiago.

Yuri completed this day in the company of Irina and the children. At night he had a long conversation with Irina about the meaning of life and the problem of death. Yuri did not remember Irina ever talking about these topics before. His thoughts became gloomy for a while, but he attributed this to the special circumstances that they were going through. Anyway, the committee would meet in one month and analyze the results. Yuri would be present, and everything would end up in a big outburst of laughter as they all realized how they had succumbed to an irrational sense of urgency. Then, he would celebrate being reunited with Irina again. Later he would take the children shopping to GUM, then take them to Sverdlov Plaza and to Gorki Park. Yes, everything would end in absurdity; it would be even more ridiculous than Grigori's unsuccessful exploration of Mount Ararat.

This much was clear: the committee was made up of reckless people who enjoyed scandal, and yet he had to follow their instructions without any influence in the decisions. Yuri smiled to himself, imagining the look in the faces of Ministry officials as the committee would finally announce: "Comrades, this was a false alarm."

Yuri had written in the academic journal about some symptoms that he had observed, and proposing a serious study; perhaps he had dramatized a bit, but he had never proposed a wild-goose chase without clear objectives. The committee, probably instigated by Grigori, must have then accosted the Ministry of Defense, seriously criticizing them for their failure to foresee the revolution in Iran, a revolution that was set ablaze by a religious fanatic. The committee had gained influence by spreading alarm that a chain reaction of phenomena of this type was possible unless immediate measures were taken. It was obvious that the members of the committee had been working on these ideas for several months; it was possible that similar reckless adventurists were working in the U.S. and in Western Europe. Grigori's comments about capitalist researchers might refer to some type of clandestine agreement with these other groups.

After his mind had rambled through these thoughts, Yuri understood that most of them were the result of his strong dislike for his impending journey. After all, during his experience in the sensory deprivation chamber, he had projected all type of evil intentions onto Karpov, and later discovered that they were no more than "his own mental contents".

MAY 28

Professor Tokarev was aboard an Aeroflot flight bound for New Delhi. A few hours before, he had crossed the Moscova River and had arrived at Jodinskoie Polie. There, at the airport, Irina had kissed him for a long time. Now, below and to the left, he believed to recognize the silhouettes of Kamet and the Nanda Devi. The snows of the ‘top of the world’ were tinted with the golden-red of the Indian dawn. Soon the airplane began to descend...

It was early morning as Yuri quickly cleared customs—an easy feat, thanks to his diplomatic passport. Just as he left the building, he was overwhelmed by a swarm of children:

"Johnny, money, money!" They all yelled at once, clinging to his clothes and trying to snatch his handbag.

Somebody took Yuri by the arm, and guided him towards an automobile some fifty yards away.

"This way. Professor, this way," said the chauffeur from the Soviet Embassy.

Yuri felt slightly suspicious, but relaxed when he read the lettering on the car's front door: "Soiuds Soviestskij Sotsialistichieskij Riespublik." The car departed slowly. Hundreds of people on foot or on bicycles meandered in front of the car. At times, traffic was detained by motorcycles or small motor wagons. At other times it was slowed down by cattle lying in the middle of the street, slowly chewing grass. The vehicles traveling in the opposite direction eluded the obstacles at great speed, almost running into the embassy car. Yuri, who sat beside the driver, witnessed the city waking up. Thousands of people who had been sleeping on the sidewalks were now rising, while many people and dogs were still circling around small fires. The professor was reminded of the market at Samarkand, but there at least there was some semblance of order.

Yuri observed the Indian swastika on many buildings, whether made of wood, stone, bricks, or simply painted. Yuri let his eyelids drop... The sun and the snow of the Himalayas kissed each other against the blazing red of dawn. He saw himself and Irina, embracing, spinning inside a giant swastika that was rolling over the countryside in Trasnova, ravaging everything in its path. Peasants were fleeing into Novgorod. His father, a veteran of the International Brigades in Spain, was dragging his wife and little Yuri away from the invader's machine guns.

"Boris, Boris!" cried Maria, tightly holding her son amidst this enormous, bloody confusion.

Boris and Maria always addressed each other in Spanish, for they had met in Madrid during the days of the resistance. A million people were killed in Spain, seventeen million in the USSR, and the world continued to burn in Hiroshima, Korea, Vietnam, and Africa. Sirens were howling, a shell exploded, blowing Boris away, while little Yuri was thrown forward, far away from his mother.

"Here we are, Professor," said the chauffeur. He stepped on the brake and blew the horn.

Professor Tokarev yawned and shook his head as if he’d just emerged from a bad dream.

"Welcome, Professor," said a handsome young man. He opened Yuri's car door. "We leave for Patna in four hours," he continued, with a big smile, "unless you have changed the plans."

"No, I haven’t changed anything. You must be Igor, my 'tour guide?' "

Igor snapped to attention. "At your command, Comrade Professor," he replied, jokingly.

They entered the embassy, laughing, while Igor walked ahead with Yuri's briefcase in his hand.

That very afternoon they had already arrived in Patna, a few miles away from the border of Nepal. Ashrams of various types were flourishing all over the outskirts of the town. This activity had increased after Tibetan monks, fleeing from the Chinese, had crossed over and dispersed throughout India. As a result, a strong religious current had been growing for a few years throughout India's northern arch, from Benares to Patna. According to Grigori's book, you only had to visit three areas in that zone to make contact with no less than fifty non-official, mystical groups. After arriving at an old hotel, Professor Tokarev and Igor sat down to plan a schedule for the following days.

MAY 29

Early in the morning, the two Russians left towards an address mentioned in Grigori's book. Yuri suddenly decided to change course; to Igor's amazement, he led the driver directly to the slums, as though the professor had visited them before.

"It's just a hunch," Yuri explained as they arrived at a roomy, old house. They knocked on the door and were immediately received by a man in a saffron robe. Igor and Yuri looked at each other in surprise, but remained silent. They were then escorted to a small room and greeted by Tensing Chobrang, a learned man who currently taught eastern religions in Amsterdam. He had recently completed a tour around the world, seeking a new home for what he called "the refugees from Tibet."

Their host sat on large pillows of many colors, here in this room that reflected the rich diversity of the Tibetan Buddhist style. The Lama addressed them respectfully, and explained the progress of his efforts in South America. This vividly awakened Yuri's interest, who wondered why Tensing would choose that part of the world. Tensing then explained that a certain section of the high plateaus in South America had environmental and human characteristics very similar to those of Tibet. However, the governments of those remote regions were creating obstacles. They were quite concerned about allowing low-technology agricultural colonies. Those young countries were thirsty for progress, and preferred European immigrants, or Japanese in any case. Tensing also explained that the Dalai Lama had not been able to concentrate the refugees in any precise location, and they had scattered chaotically throughout the north of India. They were usually employed in building roads, earning miserable wages. Many died of starvation, illness, or exhaustion. There was little hope for improving their situation unless they could emigrate to Latin America, or return home. Nevertheless, Yuri suspected that there were other underlying reasons when Tensing, in his perfect English, declared:

"A slender line connects the initiation centers of the world. The Himalayas have already given their message." Without knowing exactly why, Yuri remembered Jose Fuentes—the Bolivian—and his Doctrine.

The Lama continued in a strange train of thought, explaining how Mahayana Buddhism of the tantric school was disappearing, as well as a shamanistic religion called Bon, both characteristic of Tibet. He interpreted the Chinese regime as a re-occurrence of Taoism, which had destroyed Confucian ethics, even though it was now disguised under the ideological veneer of Marxism. This unique point of view intrigued Tokarev. After all, the dialectics of yin-yang and the synthesis of the Tao could be seen as a religious, primitive form of Marxism that struggled against Confucius' imperial state. He also remembered that Hegel, the creator of dialectics -- later adopted as the method of Marxism -- had been a theologian. But Yuri thought to himself: "To interpret political philosophies from a religious point of view is a typical example of ultra-idealists inverting everything."

The conversation ended with an emotional climate of wild fantasy, with the Lama proposing cosmic and political relationships.

"A few days before Mao's death, an earthquake that killed a million people foretold that event, and the forthcoming violent change in the Chinese regime. Just as the Shah of Iran's airplane escaped the Islamic revolution, another earthquake devastated entire villages. You Russians should pay close attention to all of these changes near your borders. You have excellent seismological observatories, but you have no equipment with which to monitor mental upheavals."

Yuri felt ideologically and religiously intoxicated. However, back at the hotel, he carefully recorded the Lama's final sentence. In his own way, and in his gaudy language, the Lama had conveyed something quite similar to what Yuri had expressed in the journal of comparative religions in Moscow. Yuri had decided to work on his notes, and Igor was to continue chatting with the Lama. Afterwards, according to their plans, Igor was to scout the neighborhood.

Igor arrived two hours later.

"Professor, I have some news" he said, and ran over to a chair next to Yuri. Yuri turned his own chair around so that he could face Igor.

"What are you so worked up about?" asked Yuri, and somehow had the feeling that he already knew the answer.

"Professor," Igor panted, "when you left the ashram the old man suddenly changed his attitude. He opened a chest and offered me a jade medallion with some type of inscription. Then everything went crazy." Igor began to laugh convulsively.

"I took out some rupees," Igor continued, "because I thought that the Lama was selling me some cheap souvenirs, but when he saw the money he uttered a strange word. Instantly, two monks entered the room, squealing like maniacs. They were clowning around, throwing flour or chalk into the air, and one of them tried to place his hand on me.... Well, you know, everything ended in chaos. The funniest thing is that while I was pushing these monks around, and smashing everything in my way, the Lama, covered with dust, was still enjoying his disgusting tea, a tea that had yak hair floating on it."

Igor paused, and began to laugh again.

"Can you imagine, yak hair! I bowed before the Lama and left the ashram in a hurry, but I could still hear screams in that strange language. Do you have any idea what all of this means?"

"Igor, how long have you been in India?"

"Ten years, Professor."

"And why is it that you do not understand the local customs?"

"Oh, I do, very well. But, as you well know, these people are not Indian, they are from Tibet... Yak hair!" Igor repeated, laughing once more.

Yuri secretly rejoiced his friend's iconoclastic impulses. He recognized the same energy he had seen in Grigori and in the explosive Karpov. How much he would have liked to turn over chairs and tables during those pedantic committee meetings! But even as Igor was laughing without inhibition, Yuri began to see two images that superimposed... He saw another "Igor", acting with a computer-like precision; he was apparently receiving a coded telex message, translating it quickly, and entering an immediate response back into the machine. Yuri tried to remove this disconcerting vision from his mind, and attempted to ask:

"Igor, please be honest. Do you..."

"What are you saying, Professor?" Igor replied, as he became comfortable in his chair.

Yuri took a deep breath and stared directly at his co-worker. Then he exhaled hopelessly. There was a moment of silence, and then Yuri said:

"Forget it, Igor, forget it."

"OK, professor, I will. Now, if you allow me, we should visit a very interesting place that I have discovered. It is a religious healing center."

As they approached the new site, sitting in a wagon that was pulled by a motor scooter, Yuri reflected upon the strange conditions surrounding their interview with the Lama. Yuri himself had not been able to ask the Lama anything of interest. He had left the ashram just as he had entered. Nevertheless, Tensing had gone into great detail without anyone asking questions. Then there was the incident with Igor, which surely must have some meaning, but it was difficult to understand. Yuri then decided to return to the ashram the following day, by himself, in order to avoid complications.

They had arrived at the healing center. The crowd of people was overflowing to the sidewalk, and they had to push their way into the building. They finally arrived at the central hall. A few yards away, they saw a middle-aged man lying on a table. He looked European--Austrian perhaps. His chest was bare, and the rest of the body was covered with a white sheet. At each corner of the table stood one of the healer's assistants. The healer now entered the stage, displaying his hands to the crowd, with the agility of a magician. The healer began to address the crowd in Hindustani while Igor translated softly for Yuri's benefit.

A surgical procedure was about to take place. Yuri realized there were some other Europeans in the room, and one of these was a woman weeping loudly. She must have been the patient's wife. The healer walked behind the table, and the Russians moved in closer, barely six feet away. Some monotonous chants began to fill the air as the room was smothered with incense. The four assistants waved their hands above the European, without touching him at all, as if performing a "magnetic massage."

Igor explained that surgery was to be conducted without anesthesia and without any instruments. The healer would be extracting a cancerous tumor from the patient's stomach using nothing more than his clean hands, and the wound would close immediately afterwards. All of this would take place thanks to the blessings of a local goddess.

Two women approached the table, each carrying a container, and stood at the healer's side. One of the ladies suddenly removed the sheet, uncovering the patient's abdomen. She cleaned his stomach with some cotton drenched in water. The healer pressed his hands on the patient's body, and one of his hands appeared to enter the patient's stomach without resistance. Blood began to flow while the lady cleaned it off with some more cotton. The healer was moving his hands very quickly; sometimes he would shake one hand, spattering blood all over the sheet. The audience stared in silence. The patient was squinting, forcing his eyes shut; his jaws were tense, as if expecting to receive a serious beating. Quickly, the healer pulled out something that looked like viscera out of the patient's stomach. It was a dark, elastic substance that he threw into one of the containers. His hands continued moving even faster, until everything ended with a gentle abdominal massage. The operation had concluded. The healer gave a step backward and relaxed his body, as if emerging from a profound trance. One of the assistants cleaned off the blood with a large wad of cotton, leaving the patient's stomach completely clean.

The crowd rushed forward to closely witness this incredible event. The European patient was now standing and tried to pull up his pants, but it was impossible. His wife threw herself at him, weeping uncontrollably. Other spectators tried to break the two apart so that they could touch the patient's stomach. Hysteria was taking over, so the two Russians fought their way out of the hall. Even as they were leaving they saw the patient's pants fall to the ground--then the patient, his wife, and a few other Indians rolled on the floor. Other people kneeled and kissed the healer's hands. The chants began again as Yuri and his co-worker pushed their way out to the street.

Igor whistled in relief. "What did you think about this operation?" asked Igor.

"A thin layer of alkaline ointment on the hands and phenolphthalein in the water. That produces blood, or at least something quite similar in color. The viscera belong to a chicken. The assistant hides it beneath the cotton and sneaks it over to the healer. The healer's hands never enter the body. What happens is that he has depressed the abdominal cavity, and the red liquid forms a little pool. He bends his fingers and they appear to puncture the skin. This technique is also used in the Philippines. It is a good way to con Westerners out of money, especially since they keep arriving to the healing centers in droves."

"So you think our visit was a waste of time?" asked Igor.

"I’m sorry, I don't think it was very productive. I don't believe we have found a new religious leader, or an explosive phenomena that will sweep away the masses."

"Oh well, anyway I have a few other things to show you, not too far from here," Igor replied, and pulled Yuri towards the wagon. The chauffeur was waiting for them.

The two Russians contacted a wide variety of associations. Everywhere they were received without scrutiny. The followers were probably so eager to gain new converts that they did not question the visitors' motives. Igor's expertise as a "tourist guide" and the information contained in Grigori's book allowed the professor to settle a number of questions -- even though the results were disappointing.

All of the ashrams, or headquarters for associations, followed the same pattern. Large estates surrounded by fences and patrolled by armed guards. The newcomers would announce their presence, and be allowed through the garden into the main building. There was always a receiving office and a large living room used for assemblies. Meditation rooms and dormitories were connected to the main hall. Another wing contained the kitchen and dining area, and still another housed the cleaning facilities: shower, toilets, laundry rooms, etc. All of these facilities, of course, were in disrepair.

Still, the ashrams and associations appeared prosperous. They resembled rest homes for older people, with a preference for Westerners. A few younger folk sleeping in the gardens appeared to be wealthy even though they dressed casually. The procedure was always similar: you spoke briefly with some ladies that were in charge of public relations. You received brochures and pamphlets that described the courses being offered and the price for each; the cost for room and board had to be added separately. The courses lasted from one week to 40 days. The less expensive ones dealt with macrobiotics, spiritual massage, astrology, acupuncture, iridology, and Tarot. The moderately-priced courses covered eastern philosophy, bio-energetics, alternative medicine, parapsychology and bio-feedback. Yet the most popular course was also the most expensive -- a session that was personally conducted by the guru. Of course, diplomas and personal mantras were eventually assigned for the visitors to take back with them.

In order to gather the greatest number of samples, Yuri and Igor visited other places separately. It was midnight when they finally rejoined at their hotel and began to record their field notes for the day. Yuri's notes included a question he could still not answer:

"How did we arrive at Tensing's ashram? I don't know how to answer this, I don't know what to think about all this. Who could provide the best answer, Karpov or Nietzsky?"

      | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 |