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MY FRIEND FROM BOMBAY “There must be a beginning of any great matter, but the continuing unto the end until it be thoroughly finished yields the true glory.” (Francis Drake) One. Morning seeks us out. Through the curtains at the windows and our closed eyelids, it taps into our consciousness, awakening it from its slumber, charging the blood with the timeless call to “Go forth and multiply!” And it is precisely that – not the need to get up for work or go to the toilet – which rouses us from our dreams. Why? It’s hard to explain. Nature is just arranged that way; the species must survive and replenish its ranks. Some trees are for firewood, others are for growth. It has always been so, and I am sure that waking up to the world each day we discover it anew, pushing us to find someone in order to fulfil this prime objective of nature. But thanks to all the complexes we have burdened ourselves with (“Thou shalt not commit adultery,” “Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour’s wife,” “career comes first” etc.), along with the distractions of football and boxing on TV, boozing, shopping and so on, the majority of civilised people can go through the day without doing the most important thing. And that is how civilisations perish – they become too…how can I put it…focused on aesthetics. On something shiny, perhaps even dazzling, and apparently much-needed – and meanwhile life presents an opportunity to the nomads and the Vandals, and they seize it. And there you have it – the sacking of Rome. How did I come to this conclusion? One summer, after a heavy night out, I fell asleep on a park bench. I was woken in the morning because my penis had filled with blood and was looking for satisfaction in the name of perpetuating the species – but I was totally unaware of my natural biological mission and thought it was just a call to relieve myself. I found a suitable tree, overgrown with rampant shrubbery, and, entering these refined beginnings of a wild forest, undid my flies, took out my “semiconductor”, which was hot and full of desire, and spurted through it. Some believe that because of this natural law, people who were sentenced to death on the gallows in times gone by would ejaculate at the moment of hanging. You see, for a brief time, just nanoseconds, their cervical vertebrae were still supporting the whole body, fighting for the life of the whole… before succumbing – irrevocably – to the law of gravity. But in those moments, realising that the body was on the verge of extinction, the brain signalled to its reproductive organs, and the penis shot out its sperm in a last attempt to impregnate at least something! Apparently, it was believed that where such drops of sperm fell, a mandrake would grow, and the root of this plant would bring its owners luck in any type of shady business – not to mention passion in the bedroom – if they carried it around with them and never parted with it! Once again, the drive for reproduction gives rise to legends. Can you imagine the Rockefellers or the Rothschilds dragging a root around with them… or King Solomon?! Anyway, just as the flow began to slacken, and my cock stopped burning with the desire for sex, my eyes fell on a scrap of newspaper from which a lad was staring out at me. A little boy. The spitting image of myself as a child. He was just slightly darker than me – not African, more Indian – bright eyes, brimming with natural intelligence, and with my features exactly, right down to the mole on his cheek! I tucked my penis away and picked up the scrap of newspaper. It was an article about kids who live on their own in the slums of Mumbai, doing whatever they can to survive, while nearby, relatively close, Indian billionaires play golf and spend millions on flashy weddings for their children. In general terms, the newspaper was trying to highlight the contrast to the reader. Contrasts always draw attention, and attention takes up time – and time is money, as the well-known saying goes. And you know why? Because while you are reading all sorts of drivel about contrasts, others are earning money, and it is highly likely that this is money you could have been making yourself if you had been concentrating on survival – but you, your thoughts were filled with emotions, you were visualising the contrast in a country you know next to nothing about… you gave away (voluntarily, mind) your time and the opportunity to earn during this time, to someone else – well, for example, the owner of that newspaper – not to mention the money you invested in that piece of paper! Unable to tear my eyes away from the photograph of that boy, that’s when I came to this conclusion about our natural mission. Thoughts move rapidly, as everyone knows, and I remember my train of thoughts was as follows (if in broad terms I try to detail the main stages of the route):
LEGEND OF THE FOUR BARONS. A demon does not testify against another demon, a wolf does not eat wolf meat (Grigory Skovoroda) One: War with the Genies. From East and West, from North and South, these legends crept into our world, hidden under the cover of yellowed pages. I bought them from Haggsey, an Irish sailor whose path crossed with mine in a London pub. I had to pay for the booze, so they didn’t come cheap, because as we all know, an Irishman can drink the sea dry if an Englishman is paying! He had bought these scrolls from Ram Viswanathan in the south of India, who had swapped the manuscripts for tobacco with a nameless prisoner who was dying from leprosy in the Andaman Islands. According to him, he had won them in an argument with Tsen Yu, a dealer in antiquities and curiosities on the island of Formosa. Where Tsen Yu had got them from, nobody knows anymore, because apart from the fact that he was a Chinaman who sold secrets and all sorts of antiquities and valuables, few people today have any idea who this Tsen Yu actually was… The world was ruled by four Barons. Three of them lived in the West and South, and one ruled in the East. The North was a closed country. Although merchants and adventurers strayed into these regions, none of them wanted to hang about for too long in the lands of the North, for only one law applied there – the one that was read out that particular day from the Wall of Laws. Therefore, the people there were confused and intimidated by the local lord and his soldiers. As a result, it became extremely difficult to trade and negotiate, for how can you maintain an agreement when one day they announce from the Wall of Laws that it is “approved” and the next, “rejected”! So what can I tell you about the four Barons? They were men of brilliant intellect and great wisdom. Nobody knew their real names, they just used the following nicknames: Va Ran – Baron of the East. Ti Ran – Baron of the West, beyond the Seven Seas. Bu Ran – Baron from the South of the World. Ur Ran – Baron from the West, between the rivers Danube and Rhine. It is said that they were brothers, or somehow related to each other, but this could just be based on rumour. The mysterious lord of the Northern Kingdom was Ural, son of Goryn, known as “UsGor” for short. He was not one of the four, but as time will tell, he performed notable feats and that is why he will also feature greatly in this tale. Once upon a time, disturbances started to break out around the world, and as they spread the Barons decided to join forces in order to battle against this danger. This is what actually happened: the Genies of the Deserts rebelled against other peoples and began to make incursions into neighbouring states. The Genies wanted the Barons to start taking their side and to align with them, maybe even become akin to them. The ancients used to say: “Don’t bother to build a stairway to heaven. Set the devils free, jostle them around, direct them – and they will turn the world into such a place that the people will come and build a stairway themselves, when there is nowhere left to run!” And the Genies actually were devils, set free by the people at some point in order to build or destroy something (exactly what, nobody remembers, for the objectives changed frequently, in line with the growing demands of the rulers). But the people and their Barons were unable to keep them fully under control, and then…what happened, happened! The story of how they appeared will be recounted below, and how they did not become devils immediately, but only later on. Nevertheless, the wisdom and intelligence of the Barons prevailed in the struggle to survive, and as a result of this, many young people were sent off as soldiers to fight against the Genies. The war was waged across the whole world, and neither the Genies nor the Barons could secure ultimate victory. Extensive resources were spent on all this, and vast numbers of soldiers and officers from the Baron’s troops fell victim, while many Genies also perished, as did ordinary folk. When the Barons’ forces were totally spent, they decided to arrange a meeting on Misty Island. At this meeting they decided to send messengers to UsGor to ask for his help in their struggle against the Genies. The messengers were dispatched, but they returned empty-handed. Ural, son of Goryn, told the Barons that they should resolve their own problems and leave him out of it. He had no interest and saw no sense in getting himself embroiled in this war. Then the Barons decided to trick him into joining the war against the Genies. Va Ran, who held several Genies captive, sent warriors from his “Dragons” division (the bravest and most fearless soldiers there ever were) to a few border villages in Ural’s kingdom, where they slaughtered all the inhabitants and reduced the villages to ashes. Then he forced the Genies to perform the Death Dance, so that day turned into night from all the earth, ashes, dirt and human bodies being thrown into the air! In those days any small child would have known that such trails of destruction were only ever left by Genies in the wake of incursions. News of these events reached Ural, son of Goryn, and his fury knew no bounds. The Genies had not faced a more bitter enemy since the time of the first Flood! The troops of the son of Goryn attacked the Genies in the heart of the Deserts, and the troops of the four Barons supported them on the outskirts. The Barons did not discuss with UsGor how to lead this war jointly to victory, but thanks to the information from their spies, the Barons often acted quite effectively and in collaboration, so that UsGor was unhindered on his path of destruction and went on to annihilate the Genies. It would appear that all had gone according to plan, and victory was already in sight. However, Va Ran, who was not only clever and wise, but also extremely greedy (although undoubtedly far-sighted), decided to play his part. He sent one of the Genies he was holding captive with a message to their king – the great Jafar the Elusive himself. You may well wonder why. According to one Eastern wisdom, when you look at world from the sun, everything appears light, but try glancing at the world from within the earth and you will realise that there is no less beauty and meaning in the shadows. Your eyes simply have to get used to the dark! The Genies possessed knowledge that was not accessible to ordinary people or the wise Barons, and the cunning and wise Va Ran wanted to gain access to it, in order to study and master, to utilise and reap benefits. To this end he decided to invite the Elusive to see him, although of course in secret from the rest of the world! Two: Secret Meeting. But wait, where on earth did these Barons and Genies come from? This is the eternal question, dear readers and listeners. The answer is not exactly straightforward, but the attentive ones among you will surely get the picture! Once upon a time, a star fell from the sky to earth – and this was before people existed, such as they are today: heedless and stubborn, fearful of losing and not willing to wager “all or nothing”, as the book of the Great Game demands, striving to elevate themselves at the expense of their own kind, forgetting about fundamental truths, seeking their moment of glory and then disappearing into oblivion! So this star carried within it a tiny little box, probably made from star steel, or from the nucleus of a meteorite; in any case, from something that could not be crushed or melted down. The star burnt out once it had fallen to earth, but the box remained. Inside lay a message which was destined to be read by the chosen one… When, many years later, the little box was opened by an uncommon shepherd, he found a tablet made of light material with the inscription “Play.” Next to it lay a seashell-like object from outer space. It looked like what people today would call a nautilus shell. The shepherd, who resembled a lion-like creature with wings, blew into this shell – and beautiful music rang out, reminiscent of the Universe. He had fulfilled the written instruction and played! A ray from the Sun winked from above. The ocean, on whose shores the shepherd was standing at that moment, hissed with its waves, and out of those waves strode giants. People would later name them variously: Atlantans, Leviathans, Ispolini and dolphin-like Nommos. These were the prototypes for these very Genies. They possessed a huge number of positive attributes and a few shortcomings. To name but a few, their attributes included telepathy, prediction of the future, the ability to transform themselves, levitation, the ability to disappear and a momentary power over the forces of nature… Well, as you know, when thunder rumbles, rain and hail fall from the sky. Each of them possessed, and had perfectly mastered, his own favourite weapon: one a chain, one a club, one a hammer! And now it becomes clear where such characters as Thor and the one they named Zeus appeared from. The shortcomings that clearly stood out included pride, the desire to dominate and enslave, and hunger for glory and victory at any price. Greed for victories…I would actually call it refusal to risk any chance of suffering defeat! Later, enough of these few shortcomings spiralled into evils to make the creations born of the virgin waters of the Ocean become, at some point, reckless and egotistical in their actions and lose the strength of love and compassion endowed by the Ocean, which had existed in this world before the earth or sky or anything else. The beings born of the Ocean initially came to earth to help the people – yes, yes, those little, unenlightened people – and to grant them knowledge. That is how a multitude of gods once appeared in the world of people! And then came the Flood with its many victims. The people and these demi-gods wailed and only a few survived. The people and deities left to inhabit the earth and the underworld started to accuse each other over what had happened, and specifically the causes of the Flood. And this is how the words “devils” and “genies” came into the human vocabulary, in fact meaning one and the same thing; for the people’s former protectors, their beloved gods, now became their irreconcilable enemies. The people had to organise themselves for battle. All the people were united by one thing: the desire to submit themselves to the will of the strongest of their own kind, and not to be subjugated to the hated devils-and-genies! That is how the Barons and UsGor, the lord of the North, appeared. The Genies possessed the gift of foresight and they could, as mentioned earlier, control the elements for a very brief period of time – everywhere except the Ocean; they could also transform themselves into whomever or whatever they wanted. Va Ran thought to himself that if only he had such powers he would long ago have vanquished his counterparts, then absolute power over the people would have been his alone! He surrounded himself with magicians and the most daredevil troops for safety (oh, how naïve he was back then) and met the chief Genie in his castle, situated high up in the Himalayan mountains. Picture the scene: a stone hall, simple furnishings, lamps burning. Va Ran is sitting on a humble woven mat in the centre of the room, in a circle formed by the depiction of two fish representing Yin and Yang. The Baron of the East is sitting on the light side. The Genie, who presents himself as a wanderer, with a burnt ruddy-brown face, dark watchful eyes, framed by a network of wrinkles, and curly black hair that is beginning to go grey, is opposite, on the dark side. They are busy with their conversation and playing a game of Go. Va Ran, smiling, says to his companion: “I want to make you a proposal. Give me your ability to transform yourself and to control the elements, and I will protect you and your family from being killed. You can come and live in my land, in parts that the other Barons and your enemy Ural will never even know about. You’ll be fine there!” The Genie takes his turn. Smiling, he replies to Va Ran: “My honourable Va Ran, I can agree to your proposal, but you must listen to what I have to say. Otherwise, you won’t get what you want.” The Baron of the East twitched his lips in response, faintly nodding his head in agreement. “Well go on, go on – I’m all ears!” “There is a flower which will blossom in seventeen hours’ time on the slope of the mountains which originate from the Northern territories, from the land where Ural, son of Goryn reigns. You must pick this flower on the first day it blooms and make tea from it. When you drink this tea you will die for a short time, and I will perform rites over you… When you awaken the next day, you will be able to transform yourself. The evolution of transformation takes several stages, and at the first stage you will be able to transform yourself into one of the elements, for example the wind. Into a gale, if you wish, or a light breeze, caressing the curls and skirts of young girls. As the wind you will undoubtedly be able to get into many places and discover the secrets of both your enemies and your friends. Then, once you have learned how to control yourself, you will move on to the next stage, and passing through that one, you will possess powers unknown even to me!” Va Ran sat there in silence and looked, as if through a shroud, at the Genie. “Very interesting,” he thought, “but what is the Genie going to ask for in exchange?” The Genie read his thoughts and smiled: “Oh, Baron of the East! I want just one thing in return. Hide me away in a place where my powers will no longer work! Arrange with the lord of the waters for him to grant me a place in his kingdom and then the power of transformation will be yours!” “And that’s all?” softly asked Va Ran, who was beating the Genie at Go “That’s all,” replied the Genie. “I have no family, and according to an ancient prophecy my people will perish in any case at the hands of Ural and the Barons. And so now that I see that this will come to pass, I don’t want to ask anything more of you in return.” Va Ran nodded in agreement and smiled. “You’ve lost, Elusive,” he laughed. And indeed, Va Ran had won the game. When he glanced back at the Genie, he had already almost dissolved into the air. Vanishing, he said to Va Ran: “We have a deal. I will be here when you drink that tea!” Va Ran sat deep in thought and realised: now he had to make a decision that would change his life for ever. A decision on which the fates and fortunes of the world would subsequently hinge. He was taking a risk, but he liked risks. Risk was intoxicating and made him feel young and strong. Risk offered him to sell his fear and buy power. Possibly, enormous power over the people and the Barons. Over everybody… There is a proverb: “If you are tempted by love, give yourself up to temptation and fall in love; but if you are tempted by power, give up everything and run.” Possibly Va Ran had not heard of it, and more than likely he had never had a love he could have given himself up to, apart from his love of power. Va Ran smiled. He liked more and more what he was imagining to himself, and the idea of what would happen in seventeen hours’ time and then on the following day. He was able to risk and to wager “all or nothing” because he was a Baron, and not an ordinary person. He would have to negotiate with the Ocean, but he knew how to do that! In one of his prisons in the mountain caves he held one of the Ocean’s nephews – a smuggler and pirate, known to the world in those days as Lam the Fearless. Va Ran would exchange him for a hiding place for the Genie, and whatever would be, would be. Three: Initiation and Transformation. It must be said, dear readers, that people and even loftier embodiments of reason are truly dynamic if they see a clear goal ahead of them. But it is hard to be dynamic when you look the Ocean in the face, as you cannot see where its countenance starts and ends, and whether that is a smile flickering on its waves or a warning. When a person finds himself by the Ocean, either as a traveller or a beholder, all human activity boils down either to a struggle for life or to a peaceful enjoyment of life, depending on the circumstances. However, all of us, one way or another, automatically accept the fact that the Ocean is deep and indifferent. The water is close and dangerous. In the midst of it all lies a thin strip of land, a small island: our consciousness, girded by the reefs of our perception. The ship that we call our soul often runs aground on the sandbanks and reefs of our perception, since our consciousness does not let it go further, into boundlessness and knowledge. “There might be great danger ahead,” its voice seems to whisper. “Stay on the reefs, in blissful ignorance. Don’t be in a rush to see things that I can’t explain to you…!” Va Ran was devoid of any conflict with his own consciousness; after all, his greed for power, the creativity of his crafty mind, constantly conjuring up new ideas about how his rule over this world would be more effective, and undoubtedly more beneficial for all concerned, once he obtained the secret knowledge – this greed could probably accommodate a very great deal. The phrase, “He could have drunk an Ocean of power,” immediately springs to mind, but what do we know about the Ocean in order to cast such words about here, on these pages? The Ocean, with which Va Ran had come to negotiate a refuge for the Elusive in exchange for the release of the Fearless…the Ocean sensed the presence of this strange person. Nobody knows what the Ocean thought…and does it have any thought process, such as we envisage these clusters of analysis and information, these communications of the mind? Do they come in a stream of unconsciousness, organised unconsciousness, like the Ocean itself? Or maybe it is just that when a person approaches the Ocean, he simply always gets what he asks for? So that, for example, just as someone approaching a pond sees his reflection, so someone approaching the Ocean with a plea, a request or even a proposal, automatically gets what he is asking for? The value of what is granted is not determined at the moment when someone’s feverish brain requests it. It is determined much later, when there is a chance to look back at the attainment objectively. And however well humankind and its great and strong play the game, the Ocean always ends up the winner, for it is an infallible player. The Ocean knows no yesterday or tomorrow – it is simply always. And so Va Ran obtained the consent of the Ocean and, as promised, transferred the Fearless into the watery hands of his uncle. Lam himself was to receive the Elusive in the agreed place, and we can all guess what Va Ran would receive in return, for the Genie would certainly keep his promise! Seventeen hours passed from the moment of the last conversation between Va Ran and the Genie, and the time came to drink the tea. That very tea that would make the transformation in Va Ran’s body, force him to die and afterwards appear in the world of the elements, with the ability to return to the world of men in his previous form. The Genie was beside him when Va Ran drank the poison. The Elusive was calm, but deep inside he was celebrating, for now – once the transformation of Va Ran had taken place – he would be tied to him, to the world of Genies, forever, for they share particular characteristics: they are neither human, nor spirits. They are lords of the sand and riders of the elements, but in essence they are empty – as empty as the deserts. Deserts can certainly be beautiful, sometimes even stunning, but they are empty, for they once repelled the water and its power in the world, and for that they were punished. The Elusive now found himself half-way to his dream – he was aligning the Barons with himself (and actually becoming akin to them, although they were not yet aware of this), and he himself was leaving the desert to make peace with the Great Water (this is what he called the Ocean, as the Genies were not allowed to utter his true name because of the eternal enmity between their homeland, the Desert, and the fullness of the waves of the Ocean) Yes, yes… you read that correctly: Barons, in the plural, not just Va Ran. The Genie was cunning and had worked it so that…well, to sum it up, each of the Barons was power crazy, and each of them met the Genie and made a secret pact with him. Each promised to do “a little something” for him, as he requested. The Elusive, as we all know, could appear in different guises and in different places at the same time, which is what made the whole escapade possible. So when Va Ran thought that he was the only one in the whole world talking to the Elusive, his other three comrades-in-power believed exactly the same thing…as they spoke to the very same devil, who appeared to each of them that day. One of the Barons promised to establish areas in the Desert where there would be no war, where the land would bring forth flowers and abundance, wealth and luxury for the desert inhabitants, although first and foremost for the human-like beings born of earth women and Genies, their descendants on Earth. These places would contain vast amounts of water and vegetation and they would be given the name “Oasis”, which would later become a common name in a world overcrowded with deserts, wastelands and abandoned places. Another of the Barons swore that he would keep all knowledge of the Genies concealed from mankind. He would erase any memory of them and turn everything into myth, so that in the future, the people inhabiting the world would simply have to believe, for there would be no evidence left. The third… He asked the third Baron, in return for the art of transformation, to grant the descendants of the Genies preferential treatment in trade and exchange throughout the ages! In such a way that all the major transactions in the world would be made in particular establishments, whose founders and beneficiaries would be people desperately craving wealth and power. So, in summary, what did the Elusive receive in exchange for knowledge and the art of transformation? He received: a hiding place in the Ocean, Oases in the Desert for those of his kinsmen who would unite with humans and form the Desert Tribe; concealment and distortion of the truth about Genies, and priority in trade and exchange for people from Desert Tribes around the world. As simple as that! And what did the Barons and the people gain in return for all this…? We are about to find out – wait a little and all will become clear. But we seem to have forgotten about Ural. Oh yes…the Genie also visited his Palace! Ural, son of Goryn, refused the Genie, for he was of a steely disposition and unmoved by promises. However, if you fail with the Tsar, you can succeed with his adviser! One of Ural’s advisers was no fool, and apparently no less hungry for power than the Barons. And while Ural stood up to them, the adviser was ready to negotiate and share the world with the Four. The Genie explained: he was to poison the Tsar with a drink, which would not kill him, but render him motionless for ever – the only thing that was required of the adviser was to take Ural’s place in the Northern Kingdom. He would be silent and strong, he would be mighty, but without any further power over the people of his kingdom! In exchange, the Genie asked the adviser to rule his kingdom in such a way that anyone seeking the truth about Ural and the Genies would be labelled enemies and slain, and those who could not be killed would either be driven overseas or brought onside so that they supported him and never again rebelled against his authority, being left in no doubt about it. He would have to ensure that the Law of the Wall always ruled in the Kingdom of the North, dividing the powerful and the powerless, and that the announcements made from the Wall of Laws were constantly changing. “Let this be the legacy of Ural, son of Goryn, and his reign; let it be called “tradition” and the “special way” of your country! You must do all this specifically so that the people in your Kingdom unwittingly get caught in the net of the Law and transgress it by committing unlawful acts. So that they become entrenched in this lawlessness and stop seeking the truth, looking only for ways in which to conceal their crimes, for if they start to seek the truth regardless, and find it, they will have no need of the Law, nor of a ruler!” The adviser agreed to this, and on the day on which the Barons underwent their transformation and became demi-Genies, Ural drank the poison given to him by his best and most devoted adviser and fell asleep. Fell asleep, never to waken again! At the end of that day, before sunset, all the Barons had first of all to become part of the elements, riders of the forces of Nature, just like the Genies who had suffered defeat and been beaten by the forces of Ural and the Barons. The Genies’ blood was still soaking into the sand when the Barons died for the world in which they ruled, in order to be reborn, and exactly the same thing happened to Lord Ural, too. But the transformation would not be complete in the mind of the Chief Genie without the so-called initiation! This was a special ritual, and the Elusive was a great authority on rituals. So, what happened in the Barons’ castles where the initiation took place? When they awoke 24 hours later, under the light of a full moon, sensing that they were reborn, full of unearthly energy and powers, yet also filled with earthly thoughts and desires, their first thought and their immediate desire was to try out their new powers – and they put this into action. The following phenomena occurred in succession, at brief intervals, in different parts of the world:
FLOWERS OF DARKNESS “… – where Thought – Control. is taking toll, … … – where Jokers Make – Believe the Fake, … … – where Lies are Flies. that fill the Skies … – where Boom and Bust. are both a must, …” (Louis Thomas Hardin) One. The door was adorned with a silver plaque, which read “Post Factum Management” but offered no further information. The office was austere, decorated in classical dark purple and brown tones, with marble, expensive Chinese porcelain and silver. Samael Iblis, the boss of all bosses, sat solemnly in the darkness of the office and thoughtfully turned over his rosary, waiting for one of the most influential people in the city – or arguably the entire world – to arrive. The esteemed gentleman, by the name of Geoff Ironson, was due to appear any minute to discuss a somewhat delicate matter. What can be said about Mr Ironson? The newspapers reported that he was a self-made man, who started out working for a courier service and was scarcely able to make ends meet. He was then spotted by one of the semi-criminal dealers in the Latin Quarter, a man known as Giovanni Qbira, and started to work for his firm, which was used to place bets on sweepstakes and to bid in tenders announced by certain municipal bodies. In other words, he stole taxpayers’ money with the help of his connections in the mafia and the civil service and invested it in betting on sporting events. He was surprisingly lucky. He bet on everything from horseracing to boxing, from cock-fighting (such a favourite of the Filipino community) to baseball and sailing regattas. As already mentioned, Don Qbira was a man with connections – and the young Mr Ironson very soon learned and understood how real, non-office business operated. Insider dealing, as it is called nowadays – contemptible on the one hand, and yet the source of excitement to so many. Sun Tzu wrote in his treatise on war that reliable information about the enemy’s plans is not brought by angels or demons but obtained from spies. And what is business, if not war?! Mr Ironson became an adviser to Mr Qbira, and when he died – or rather, disappeared without trace during his latest trip to Malta – Geoff, with the approval of the remaining members of the family, began to manage the affairs of the late Don Giovanni in the interests of his two daughters and widow (who did not grieve for too long and soon found herself a new “catch”) The company which Ironson managed started to invest the profits from successful bets in shares, bonds, futures and options, and to purchase property. It soon expanded to the size of a transnational conglomerate, active in the sphere of international shipping and the financial and banking sectors. One of the corporation’s prize acquisitions was a certain European bank, renowned for its 150-year history, which Geoff bought for a comparatively small sum, as the business was on the verge of bankruptcy. And, of course, there was betting… Apart from sporting bets, Geoff played for high stakes on international financial markets – he speculated on shares, futures and other securities, and after going through a series of ups and downs, he finally reached Olympus; the “Ai-Qbira International” group of companies was recently estimated to be worth thirteen billion dollars, which you will agree is no small sum! Mr Ironson had a family – a wife and young son, and a brother in California, but nobody else. However, this was compensated by the thousands of people with whom Geoff communicated on business matters every God-given day. As they say, “My burden is my blessing.” But there was one thing which prevented Mr Ironson from being at peace with the world, despite the fact he must have been rolling in money! He was not accepted as an equal by certain circles in society – these “certain circles” being a particular ancient order originating in Malta, where Don Qbira hailed from, God rest his sinful soul! Geoff sent them letters, but they were returned marked “Not known at this address”. He tried to find some “leads”…he was beside himself with excitement, but met with no response! Yet he felt sure that what he was looking for, this thing gnawing at his consciousness day and night – or rather, this knowledge – was to be found right there, in the possession of that ancient order. This feeling nagged at him relentlessly – and finally led him to Post Factum. What could a businessman like S. Iblis do for Mr Ironson? What did he deal in? Mr Iblis and his company, Post Factum Management, dealt with particularly important clients, tracing the roots from their distant past and, correspondingly, their family connections. This enabled former gangsters or paper boys, who had got rich quick on whatever it was they did to make money, to transform themselves into the high-born descendants of ancient noble families, knights, monarchs, pioneers and scientists. As opposed to other companies, which could trace DNA to seek the roots of the nouveau riche in central Africa or Afghanistan, for example, Post Factum Management would start by finding out what the client particularly wanted, who he would like to be, what type of blueblood he would like to be related to… A question Mr Iblis frequently asked was: “Imagine that you have died. Apart from the money passed onto your heirs, what mark will be left in history? What would you like to see there, after you’ve gone, what sort of records, what legacy?” This was a question that left many of his clients stumped. Could you really choose your own lineage? This was definitely beginning to sound a bit dubious! But Mr Iblis had a ready answer. He put forward arguments that convinced many of them, if not all. In the beginning there were two people, right? You’ve read about it! Well, if we are genetically related to those two people, from whom all others are descended, then it’s just a case of meticulous checking and analysis. Well, you can spend years on this, and in practice, such intergeneric bridges have taken from seven months to two and a half years to identify. Of course, everything was backed by supporting evidence – scientific proof, nothing speculative. There were sometimes also historical notes, archive records and other documents which, directly or indirectly, confirmed ancestry. Sometimes, on the contrary, it was necessary to find evidence that a person had never been related to someone or other. For example, you are the son of a dictator – let’s say Pinochet, or someone like that – nowadays, as ever, there are plenty of them about! You can adopt your wife’s surname, but you know those meddling journalists – they’ll dig it up and drag it out into the open. Mr Iblis would prove, quite objectively – once again using the very best technology – that a person who has the blood of a dictator flowing through his veins has far more “good” blood inside him, if you consider all the distinguished kinsmen over the past, say, 500 or 800 years. By simply labelling a person as the son of a murderous dictator, journalists and opponents are committing a crime against history, for in the end, it turns out that he is also the great-great-great grandson of some hidalgo, or he’s related to a European monarch! Who knows what might have transpired over hundreds and hundreds of years of history. Post Factum Management prided itself on its status and reputation! And reputation in the world of wealth is a mighty asset. The company did not advertise. Iblis did not go to forums in Davos or academic conferences. He preferred selective contacts and information which you couldn’t get from the morning papers or see on the screen when you switched on your computer. In this regard his approach to business was very similar to Geoff Ironson’s, and he had a feeling that their conversation would mark the start of a good deal. Two “You are probably familiar with this Order, Mr Iblis,” began Mr Ironson, smiling and getting straight down to business. “‘The Renunciates’ is one of those Orders which, like Nepal or Japan some centuries ago, does not admit any outsiders. As far as I know on this matter – and I know a fair amount – they possess very valuable information about the true role of Jesus and about the precursors to what we now call Christianity. I’m sure you’ll agree that it’s not a case of mass insanity – it’s a code. A code which can be used to control millions of people on the planet. And some small group of people – they may be extremely worthy, but all the same, they’re just people – possess information which could help to unlock this code for humanity, but they won’t let anyone into their circle. I want to change that. Are you able to help me find someone amongst my ancestors, virtual or actual, who would have had a connection with this group?” Deep in thought, Mr Iblis looked like the hero of some grand opera. His eyes shone with intellect and pride. This combination was common to his distinguished ancestor, if you can put it like that – for you see, we are all to some extent just the parallel transfer of our genetic data from one point in space to another, to use mathematical terms. He was certainly able to help, and he knew it. But his nature was, and still is, such that he always tries to think a game of chess through to the end and he always – oh yes, without exception – plays to win. Is chess too dull for you? Then take good old poker. Yes, his moves were closer to this card game, as some element of bluff was intrinsic to the way in which he conducted his business. But nobody is whiter than white – he knew that better than anyone! You could expand on this ad infinitum, but we don’t have that much time – for everyone has his own business to attend to, and who knows what might happen tomorrow? Therefore, the narrator is going to cut some of the dialogue and thoughts of the characters, but only a little…just so that the central idea of the story does not go adrift or become hidden behind a screen of mundane idioms. The conversation continued. S. Iblis put on an air of concentration and made notes in his notebook. Mr Ironson was bursting with impatience but remained outwardly calm, and even indifferent, portraying a sort of indolence, and from time to time glancing at his Swiss Vacheron Constantin chronometer watch, as if letting his companion know that his time was a pretty valuable asset. S. Iblis made out that he had not noticed this vulgarity, although he was secretly enjoying it. He had come across different character types over his career, and this “man-shell”, as he called people like Ironson, according to his own classification, was nothing new to his collection. Why “shell”? Well, it’s the shape – a fairly wide opening and many layers, twists and turns, all alike, aiming towards the cone, the final spiral, to refinement. At the same time, there is no exit – or rather, it is back in the same place as the entrance. And inside it contains a pleasant noise, incomparable to anything else; well, you know, of course, that if you hold a shell to your ear, you hear a noise. Sailors say that it is the wind and the sea arguing with each other, medicine affirms that this noise is caused by the flow of blood through the arteries of the head, but Mr Iblis had no theory on the matter. Noise is noise… Three. S. Iblis did not accompany Mr Ironson to Malta. He was tied up with a trip to San Francisco, so he gave Geoff free rein – and of course, provided access to his contacts and useful information. Having grown as a businessman amongst Maltese immigrants in America, Geoff asked for assistance from the family of his former employer. Qbira’s successors were pleased to help. It should probably be pointed out that Mr Ironson did not mention this to Mr Iblis, despite their agreement on total openness in this venture. It is not clear why he decided to keep it quiet…it might simply have been intuition. Amidst the mediaeval and more contemporary architecture of Valetta, amidst the narrow back streets, the restaurants serving seafood, which Mr Ironson was so partial to, and the hospitality of Don Qbira’s descendants, the first two days of the trip passed by. Geoff was not given to emotion, but he liked the atmosphere – the aura of secret and ancient knowledge which was locked away somewhere here, behind the yellow-brown walls, in books and manuscripts, combined with the utterly modern desire to compete, make money and spend it. He had one meeting over the course of those days, with a “mate of S. Iblis” – as the maestro himself put it. The “mate” turned out to be a lady-lawyer, Adele de Maria, but apart from the fact that she was a professional in the field of modern company law, she was also considered an expert in Roman law and an authority on religious movements and Orders, of which there have always been a good many, some even based on Malta’s rugged shores. The most famous is of course the Order of Hospitallers. The least well-known, and possibly the least researched and most closed Order, is that of the Renunciates. Adele de Maria did not give Geoffrey any substantially new information, but she promised to help. She said that she would need to talk it all over with Mr Iblis, but the only course that seemed reasonable to her, considering the time factor, was, frankly speaking, to use a spy to find a way to communicate with the Order. Mr Ironson only had just over two days left to make contact with a representative of the Order, and as a senior manager in business, he wanted to speak to someone on a similar level. He seemed to have reached a dead-end: S. Iblis had not yet presented him with any information about his “kinship” with the Order, though he kept assuring him on the phone that work was underway and that connections would be established any day now! The lady-lawyer stated quite plainly that she would have to use all her contacts, right down to the mafia-style cells on the island, to gain access to the Order, for all legal approaches seemed blocked and futile. Qbira’s descendants smiled and invited him to flashy restaurants with sea views, but this didn’t help to move things on. He was tormented by the question of what to do in this situation. And by the question: why? Yes, the question of encryption bothered him – he studied the Bible, he analysed the associated mass of records left by the Greeks and Jews, describing how they saw apparitions of Jesus and the reactions of different sections of society to this, and he came to the following conclusions:
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