Wind in the Hands

“After his leg was crushed in the death camp, he experienced heavy depression. Have you heard about this time?”

“I have, and about a wonderful escape from the camp, too. Despite his mutilated leg, he hypnotized security guards and escaped.”

“Yes, he escaped, crossed the border, returned home, did not see anyone for several months and even did not leave home. He was fed almost from a spoon. His power can break anyone, but he himself is weak and spleeny.”

The Stranger was silent for some time.

“I think you haven’t understood. He didn’t worry about his leg or agonies in the death camp. I think he felt something was wrong. He saw imminent danger, knew he was chased and still could not avoid getting into the hands of his pursuers. And then he saw: there was something stronger than him, understood there were rules even he couldn’t change. He experienced a withdrawal syndrome and that was the most difficult as it meant loss of self-confidence.”

The Medium came up to the Stranger and sat beside him.

“I have bad premonitions, I have been anxious for several weeks. I have come to speak with the Seer. Maybe he understands what is going on with me,” the woman took the Stranger by his hand.

“You are not the only one; all of us feel like that. We are on the threshold of amazing events and I think I will learn something important in the City. I’m drawn there as if by a magnet.”

“A call?”

“This is vampire terminology. More likely, a mission. I hope, it is a mission,” the Stranger softly removed her palm and went to the balcony.

“Do you enjoy looking in the sky?” the woman followed him.

“I sometimes think that the sky is looking at me, inviting me to be its guest. It illuminates the way by the stars and the Moon. You think that I’ve decided I’m someone very special, don’t you?”

“I don’t think so,” the Medium interrupted him. “I believe that you can do much. But I can see how the air condenses above you. Has the Seer warned you of an imminent danger?”

“He warned my comrade.”

“I’ve seen him. I don’t like him. I strongly don’t like him. I don't understand what you might have in common with a man like that.”

“You don’t know him. He, like many others living in the time of troubles, has another attitude to life and death.”

“Could you have made a mistake with the choice of a companion?”

“We’ll see when time comes. Let’s go to bed. Tomorrow will be a tough day.”

Chapter 10. A favor for a favor

The Seer could not get to sleep. Anxious thoughts prevented him from relaxing or getting the story out of his mind. He thought he should take some action, influence the situation, although it was not typical for him to interfere with anything not directly related to him.

“Ok, suppose, there is an anomaly in the City, and a man capable of fighting it shows up. He hears a voice, commanding him to go to the City. Tries to build a team, or?..” the Seer winced. “No. They are not friends and barely know each other. Mobilized a liquidation specialist. Wanted to employ me. Funny guy. They probably go to fight. But against whom? Magicians and sorcerers? Is a black magic conference planned in the City? Most likely, no. So, what’s the anomaly?” the Seer tried to concentrate. “No. Nothing fits. Maybe there is no anomaly in the City, and this man, call him the Eccentric, has power which is activated in case of….” the Seer rubbed his forehead and said at hazard: “emotional shake up of the holder. A memory of the great events of the past, history of the City can provoke an outburst of energy in the Eccentric. A mechanism was activated for some reason and he decided he could use his ability in the City. Ok. But why does he need the Liquidator? He could feel he needed a battle tactics specialist. So, is the Eccentric dangerous? What happens if he wanders around the City. Although there are places where you better avoid. Well, it’s not our problem, he is not a small boy, and he will sort it out. And what if he loses control over his energy in the City, what will happen in this case? Can’t happen? Is it my imagination? But I have experienced the power of the Eccentric, and he found hard to suppress it and it nearly killed me. So, the best way is not to let him go to the City.”

This thought brought him relief and his spirits improved sharply. The Seer took a non-conventional decision to call his acquaintance, named the Functionary. Several years ago the Seer made him a great favor, and that was why he dialed the Functionary’s number without a twinge of conscience.

“Sorry for a night call, but my business is urgent. I hope you have recognized me?” the Seer’s voice was hard and insistent.

“Oh, that’s Ok,” the Functionary seemed to be awake. “Glad to hear you. When would you like to see me?”

“As soon as possible. And preferably at my place, if it is not inconvenient for you.”

Two hours later the Functionary was in the Seer’s kitchen drinking coffee.

“It is hard for me to explain the reason for asking your help,” the Seer started to speak. “I have a feeling that fulfillment of my request will benefit the country or at least postpone an imminent disaster.”

“I’m sure your request is lawful as you are the example of decency and humanism. Therefore it will be an honor to fulfill it,” said the Functionary in the most courteous way.

The Seer penetrated his thoughts: “What kind of a silly song is in his head? Oh… He knows that I can read thoughts and fills his head with bullshit, but I can feel his fear, distrust, and admiration, all mixed. They are strange these security officers.”

“There are two people who can escalate a conflict in the City where the situation is very tense as is,” the Seer came to the point. “They must be detained without violence: they are neither criminals, nor terrorists, nor rebels, but are law-abiding citizens. It is especially important to prevent one of them from entering the City.”

“Do they represent an organization?” the Functionary did not believe in the power of single warriors. Then why was it necessary to take a person so late at night to settle that trifle business?

“I wouldn’t disturb you if they were trifles,” the Seer said strictly. “I don’t know who they are related to, but I assure you it is a serious matter.”

“Ok, I’ll do my best. I need at least some information.”

“Here are their photographs,” the Seer handed him out several images. Security cameras near his house on the gate and door took pictures of the Stranger and the Soldier. The Soldier's face was closed by a cap with a long peak though, but the Stranger’s face could be well seen from all views. “But I warn you, do not make them any harm. Let competent people do that. You can encounter surprises.”

He took out from the case a large envelope he had prepare earlier and handed it over to the Functionary.

“Take it. To cover business expenses.”

“Oh, no. I owe you so much,” imitating indignation the guest rejected money.

“It's for business and to pay bonuses to your people,” the Seer did not like when people were performing in his presence. “I don't want a report. I want a result. Believe, the task is not easy as it seems at first glance. These two people are not ordinary citizens. If you detain them, please do not send them to jail. Find a decent place with security. Then we’ll decide what is to be done with them.”

“Ok, sure,” the Functionary assured him. “I’ll do my best. We’ll find them.”

“It is not for me but for the country. We’ll keep in touch.”

The Functionary left the Seer’s home, climbed into his car, nervously opened the envelope, counted money and shone, “Still, the Seer is an outstanding man. We will find these people without his money.” He recollected four years ago when he met the Seer at one of the parties, the Seer was watching his wife attentively, then came up to him and confidingly whispered: “Your wife has cancer, at the initial stage so far, but if you don’t hurry, nothing will help.” The family was taken aback. She went through screenings, which showed that the woman really had the earliest signs of cancer. An operation was enough and no chemical treatment was necessary. Now she feels fine. Remembering this story, the Functionary was on the verge of tears but he did not think of returning money.

After the security man had left, the Seer felt heart-heaviness, his forehead was covered with cold sweat: “Maybe I was wrong to set on agents? What if they do harm to the Eccentric? I wouldn’t like that. It is not late to cancel everything. No, they won’t do harm. They won’t do harm,” he assured himself. “And if they let them go? Then it can be assumed the Eccentric is really led by someone. Whom do I act against? And generally, what do I care about all this?”

The Seer was strong, very clever, and far-sighted man but at the same time mistrustful and superstitious. He managed to combine two identities. One was the result of his talent: exceptionally strong and super confident in his power. The other was weak with the soul torn by doubts and loneliness. He built a good wall around himself no stranger would pass. The Seer did not wheedle before people with power and openly despised some of them seeing their cheap identities hidden behind expensive suits that smelt of rust that could not be offset by expensive perfumes.

He tried not to interfere when he faced something which did not fit in his picture of the world and avoided questions about the God, although he was sure the universe had own Constructor. He knew spiritual laws and tried not to violate them. But the Seer could not imagine the Creator, did not tune on that Source finding it was a senseless idea to learn the global idea of the Providence and a highly foolish task to study the nature of God by own mind and morals. He remembered the ancient people who simplified the Creator by their primitive speeches regarding His nature. The Seer thought that evolution of human mind would necessarily result in the creation of more complex theology.

Acting against recent guests, leveraging powerful people the Seer understood that he failed to follow his internal code. Moreover, he was frightened that he interfered with the course of events he could not understand.

Then still another thought depressed him: can the cause of his anxiety be in banal envy rather than care about the world?

“That can’t be true. Envy the Eccentric? I have everything and he has nothing. I have the rarest abilities no one else has. I can’t envy the Eccentric. It is impossible.”

Chapter 11 The First Victims

Next morning the Soldier was prepared to set out. He took a small rucksack with his belongings, several chocolate bars, a plastic water bottle, and tucked money in numerous pockets. He hailed a taxi at a distance from his house, even in the peacetime he followed elementary conspirator rules. Entering the railway station building, the Soldier attentively explored the halls, went up to the second floor, sat down near the window, and started to wait for the Stranger.

Half an hour later, two cars arrived at the railway station, and strong men in official but comfortable suits with short hair got out from the cars. One of them passed around photographs to agents. The Soldier could easily distinguish a security employee in one of them, became all ears and was able to read fragmented information that they were speaking about detention of two people. He distinctly felt danger, which was possible only in case of a real and not imaginary threat. He must at all costs see those photographs and if possible take hold of them. He instantaneously made up a simple plan. He bought a bottle of cheap vodka, went to the men’s room, rinsed his mouth with stinking liquid, wiped his face, and jauntily swinging the bottle, moved towards a strong guy who was carefully studying the photographs, standing near the ticket office.

“Look, buddy, we’ve served together. Let’s drink to sort of…” the Soldier addressed the agent and as if accidentally spilt vodka over an inexpensive but good quality suit of the agent.

The agent tried to push the ‘drunkard’ away, but the Soldier managed to read the blow direction by the movement of the shoulder, moved in the opposite direction, and seeming to lose his balance, grasped the man with a small headphone in the ear by the hand. And he saw that…

“Sorry, buddy. A mistake. Was contused. You are kid still, couldn’t have served with you,” the Soldier muttered without looking at him with his head lowered.

Another security agent was approaching.

“Cheers, man,” said the Soldier drunkenly, moving atilt with his bottle raised, and slowly moved toward the toilet, being fully certain that several pairs of distrustful eyes were looking at his back. Having rinsed his face with water, he took out his mobile. Found a necessary number from the list and called.

The Stranger woke up early in the morning and went to the balcony not to disturb the sleeping woman.

He startled when he heard his mobile phone ring but seeing the displayed number smiled, waited a second, and pressed the answer button.

“Hi. What’s happened?”

“They are waiting for us at the railway station. They have our photos. Where are you?”

“In the Tower. Come.”

The door swung open and two strong guys entered the toilet.

“Sobered up?” one of them addressed the Soldier.

They were gazing at him, these fighters ready to instantaneously attack. The agent took out photographs.

“Know them?”

The Soldier, peering in the photographs, shouted wildly:

“That’s my buddy, battled together. He was killed, my trusted friend, treacherously, in the back!”

Tears were running down his face. He recollected a real case from his life and tears were almost sincere. The agents did not expect the performance, were at a loss for several seconds, and relaxed. This was enough. The agents were not wearing safety vests and the Soldier sharply made an uppercut in the celiac plexus with the maximum strength allowed by his hip and shoulder, and hit the other one who did not have time to react with his right hand on the jaw. The security employee staggered, swayed and started to fall onto his back, but the Soldier caught him to prevent him breaking his back against the tiled floor. He unfastened handcuffs from the agents’ belt, cuffed their hands behind their backs fast and pushed them into a bathroom stall. Fetched the photographs and read their IDs.

“Breathe deeper, secret war warrior,” he said to the agent who was convulsively swallowing air.

The Soldier ignited toilet paper, threw it in the dustbin and left the toilet shouting: “Fire! All is on fire!” People panicked, a fire siren went off. He ran outside unnoticed in that turmoil and dived in a taxi.

About half an hour later he was greeted by the worried Stranger in the Tower hotel lounge.

“You look well in pictures,” the Soldier grinned slightly pointing at photograph.

“The Seer,” the Stranger drawled. “Why?”

“I didn’t want to go to him,” the Soldier reminded gloomily.

“Just think, he set agents on us. They were in ambush directly at the railway station. After I deprived them of the right to exclusively use our photos, the railway station is a taboo.”

“I hope you have killed or mutilated no one?” the Stranger did not find it funny.

“What if so!” the Soldier seemed to be mortally hurt. “I was insulted when I saw our photographs held by others. Maybe they decided to earn on our glory. It’s not good. I ask, by what right? I didn’t give permission to be shot. I made a scandal and they decided not to deal with me and returned the photographs without litigation.”

“You must write fairy tales! Remember, violence pays back. It’s not our way,” the Stranger said thoughtfully. “By the way the Seer can find the hotel. We have to leave.”

“Can the Seer find our location at any time?”