The man glanced at his watch and put his foot down on the accelerator. He had successfully
accomplished his mission and was now taking the object he had obtained to his superior. He had
been promised a large sum of money in return, and he hoped finally to put his tortured past behind
him and begin a new life.
He was travelling in a jeep down a narrow winding road leading to a
village. He hadn’t intended to pass through the village as it held unpleasant memories, but he had
changed his mind as it would save time.
He was approaching a very sharp bend. But he was driving
far too fast. The jeep swerved off the road. The man slammed on the brakes
and swung the steering wheel to the left trying to miss a tree. The front of
the jeep struck the tree and the jeep spun round clockwise. The man’s head smashed against the side window and the vehicle came to a
standstill.
A few minutes later Sushila came upon the scene. She was returning
home from a nearby village after completing her day’s work at a nursery. The jeep had overtaken her
a little earlier, and she had been annoyed at the driver for speeding by so close to her. She ran to the
vehicle and opened the driver’s door. A bearded man was hunched forward, unconscious. Sushila
pushed him back against the seat. There was a large bruise and gash on the man’s forehead, a cut
on the right side of his face, and his nose was bleeding.
‘You poor man,’ said Sushila as she reached over and turned off the
ignition.
Khamseen was driving back to the village with Keshava after a visit to a
nearby town to buy some computer equipment. This was the first time Khamseen
and Uma had visited Keshava and Usha since Khamseen had been released from
prison. Their last visit had been four years ago, when they had all witnessed
a beautiful, mysterious light display above the mountain. A year later Khamseen
had been found guilty of illegal financial dealings and had spent the past
two and a half years in jail. He and his wife had just opened a clothes shop
in a town some fifty miles away.
Many things had changed in their lives over the past few years. But
one thing that hadn’t changed was that whenever Keshava and Khamseen spoke together, they
invariably ended up arguing, though they no longer resorted to insults.
‘There’s no way that the neodarwinian theory of evolution
can be wrong,’ declared Khamseen. ‘I’ve had plenty of time to study all this
and it makes a lot of sense. Basically, the first living organisms arose by
chance in the primeval oceans and have gradually evolved towards greater complexity
and diversity through random genetic mutations, with the least well-adapted
variations being weeded out by natural selection, or the survival of the fittest.’
‘You’re welcome to that belief,’ said Keshava. ‘But
don’t forget that the origin of new types of organisms through natural selection
has never been observed in action, and that 99.9 per cent of genetic mutations
are harmful or even lethal. And anyway, the genetic code merely contains instructions for making proteins; it doesn’t explain the shape of an organism. The probability of a cell developing by chance
alone is staggeringly remote, and this is even more true of intricate organs
such as the human eye or brain. Or what about the mammalian reproductive system,
all the complicated features of which would have to emerge simultaneously
in perfect working order! Or the ability of a caterpillar to metamorphose
into a butterfly.’
‘You clearly fail to understand that given enough
time even the most improbable things become possible,’ said Khamseen. ‘And
remember the earth is billions of years old. It’s true that we can’t prove
that no additional factors are involved, but I see no reason to think they
are.’
‘Many qualified biologists would disagree with
you,’ said Keshava.
‘Another major problem is the complete absence of a continuous series of
transitional fossil forms between major groups of species – between invertebrates
and fish, fish and amphibians, amphibians and reptiles, reptiles and birds, reptiles
and mammals, and apes and humans. The fossil record gives little or no indication
of how the fins of fish became the legs and feet of amphibians, how gills became
lungs, scales became feathers, and legs became wings.’
‘But as you know,’ said Khamseen, ‘some scientists now argue that
evolution takes place in sudden spurts. So that gets round the problem of missing links.’
‘On the contrary. You just argued that it’s the enormous
amount of time available that enables slow, random mutations to bring about
higher forms. But if these changes now have to be compressed into short spurts,
it makes the whole scenario even more implausible. There’s certainly no denying
that the fossil record does show that most species appear on the scene
very suddenly, live for millions of years essentially unchanged, and then
inexplicably die out. Insects, fish, birds, vertebrates – all appear as if
out of nowhere.
‘Animal and plant breeders have applied “intelligent
selection” to create many new breeds and varieties of domesticated animals
and cultivated plants, but they’ve failed to produce any changes on the scale
required by darwinian theory for the evolution of creatures of a completely
different type. Some scientists argue that in addition to genetic change there
must be some sort of “creative urge” or “directing influence” at work, enabling
life to evolve toward forms of ever increasing complexity.’
‘As usual you’re trying to smuggle in mysticism by the back door,’ said
Khamseen. ‘Whenever you see an unsolved problem you jump to the conclusion that something
mystical and “paraphysical” must be at work. But . . . Hey look over there, there’s been
an accident! Let’s check it out.’
Khamseen brought the car to a standstill behind a crashed jeep. They
were surprised to see Sushila walking towards them. She told them the accident had just happened
and that the driver was unconscious but only had minor wounds. After discussing the matter they
decided to take him to the house of Sushila and her mother in the village so that they could give him
some first aid. They would contact the police from there.
Sushila and her mother looked at the tall, injured driver lying on their settee. They had dressed his
wounds, bandaged his head and cleaned the blood from his face.
‘He seems to have led quite an eventful life,’ said
Mrs Askari softly. ‘Look at his damaged lips; they obviously weren’t treated
by a competent doctor as they haven’t healed properly. And several of his
teeth are broken or have been knocked out. He has a very war-torn face, doesn’t
he?’
She wiped some dried blood from the man’s greying beard with a
damp cloth.
The man groaned and opened his eyes.
‘Where am I?’ he asked gruffly.
‘It’s alright. You’ve had an accident and were knocked unconscious,
but you only have minor injuries. Two of our friends have gone to fetch the police.’
Keshava and Khamseen had gone to the police station in person as
no one had answered their phone call.
The man started to sit up.
‘Just lie back and rest,’ said Mrs Askari. ‘You may have got a bit of
concussion.’
The man tried to smile at her.
‘I must collect something from my jeep. It’s very important.’
‘Well I’m sure it can wait until the police get here. They won’t be long
now.’
The man looked worried and restless.
‘I must get back to the jeep, it’s very important,’ he said to himself,
swinging his legs round and sitting up. He raised himself to his feet and tried to walk, but immediately
fell back onto the settee.
‘I’m a bit dizzy . . . I must get to the jeep
. . .’
Mrs Askari looked at her daughter.
‘What do you need exactly?’ asked Sushila.
‘The briefcase on the back seat. It’s very important.’
‘I could go and get it on my bike,’ said Sushila. ‘It would only take ten
minutes. If it will make you feel better.’
‘Oh thank you, thank you very much,’ said the man. And he sank back
on the settee and closed his eyes.
Quarter of an hour later Sushila returned carrying a case, which she
put down by the settee. The man was fast asleep.
Her mother told her that Keshava and Khamseen had returned during
her absence. The police had said they would come to the house as soon as they could but were very
understaffed. Keshava and Khamseen had then left for Keshava’s house, a couple of streets
away.
The man woke up twenty minutes later and seemed reassured by the
sight of his briefcase.
‘Perhaps you’d like to go and lie down in one of our spare bedrooms,’
said Mrs Askari. ‘It’s only just out of this door here.’
‘Oh I don’t want to put you to any trouble, you’ve been kind enough as
it is,’ said the man.
‘It’s alright,’ said Mrs Askari. ‘Please go and lie down in comfort. You’ll
not be disturbing anyone. My two sons don’t use the room any more.’
‘Are they away?’ asked the man.
‘Yes, far away.’
They helped the man to the room. Then Mrs Askari looked
at the clock.
‘I’m sorry the police are taking so long. I’ve got
to go to the shops now and while I’m out I’ll drop by the station to see what’s
happening.’
They left the man to rest, and after her mother had departed, Sushila
sat down and started to read a book.
Keshava and Khamseen were sitting outside in the garden, continuing their
discussion, while their wives sat indoors in the cool, discussing their husbands.
‘It seems highly implausible to me,’ said Keshava,
‘that the physical world and all its lifeforms have evolved without any overall
direction. How can one organism be transformed into a higher form of life
without any inner or outer guidance? It’s rather like expecting a tornado
sweeping through a builder’s yard to assemble a house! Neodarwinism is fixated
on bodies, which are supposed to be no more than complex machines. But perhaps
what really evolves is the consciousness that animates them.’
‘You’re drifting off into empty verbiage again, I’m
afraid,’ said Khamseen. ‘You’ve every right to believe that there’s always
“something more” than what we can see. But it hardly amounts to a quantifiable,
testable theory.’
‘To claim that the incredible variety, beauty and
resourcefulness of nature are simply the unplanned result of a few blind forces
is also an untestable theory – nothing but an expression of faith. Is it
really so absurd to think that there’s an element of intelligent design in
what we see around us?’
‘Yes, totally absurd.’
‘Ok, let’s look at some examples. Experiments have
shown that if bacteria are starved by feeding them a substance they can’t
digest, they begin to mutate many orders of magnitude faster than the “spontaneous”,
“random” mutation rate, but only in genes that subsequently enable them to
consume the substance and survive. This phenomenon of “directed mutations”
or “adaptive mutations” may also explain the speed at which pests, from rats
to insects, develop resistance to poisons.’
‘So we don’t yet understand everything,’ said Khamseen.
‘I’ve never denied that there are interesting puzzles still to be solved.
And I certainly don’t rule out the possibility of forms of cooperation and
coordination and feedback that we haven’t yet identified. But these are probably
just minor details.’
‘I doubt whether “adaptive mutations” and “directed
evolution” will ever be understood within the framework of materialistic science,’
said Keshava. ‘Genes and organisms that “respond” successfully to environmental
challenges are not acting randomly but purposefully, and this points
to an instinctive intelligence at work that goes beyond purely physical
mechanisms and processes. To explain the origin of species, some scientists
now invoke “organizing principles”. If this is more than just a vacuous expression,
it can only refer to the influence of levels of reality beyond the physical.
Why shouldn’t there be finer grades of energy-substance, closely linked to
mind and consciousness? A whole range of unusual and anomalous phenomena point
in this direction. Why shouldn’t nature be alive and conscious throughout,
guided from within outwards?’
‘Ok, let me modify something I just said,’ said Khamseen.
‘I agree that it’s not totally irrational to argue for some element
of design. I did a lot of reading on this in prison. Personally I find the
arguments unconvincing. We do at least agree that the idea of a self-conscious
“God” as found in the Christian tradition is a fairytale – a being who wakes
up one morning and says, “Now, what shall I do today? I think I’ll create
a universe, or a planet, or a new species.” What you’re arguing for sounds
more like a form of subconscious intelligence; it could even be an unrecognized
form of electromagnetic intelligence, for example.’
‘Yes, at the very least. I think there must be some
sort of universal mind and memory to explain evolution. Obviously there’s
no perfect, omnipotent creator – there are too many flaws and failings and
too much suffering in the living world for that. But there could be a variety
of nonphysical, formative agencies involved, expressing and building on the
evolutionary habits arising from the past. But even this hypothesis
leaves us with many intriguing questions. If a number of coordinated, directed
mutations took place all at once, it’s conceivable that one creature could
give birth to a new but similar species. But it’s hard to imagine one creature
giving birth to a creature of a completely different type, such as a bear
giving birth to a whale, especially since genes don’t explain the shape of an organism. Since transitional forms are largely absent from
the fossil record, it seems to me that new types of creatures must first take
shape on the ethereal level before they materialize into visible, physical
forms.’
‘All this sounds far too wild for my liking,’ said
Khamseen. ‘A much more plausible explanation has been proposed. Some
genes exist in two different forms, one of which is dominant
and the other recessive. If a gene is recessive, or unexpressed, mutations
can occur over time without affecting the organism in question.
Then, at some point, regulatory genes, which we don’t
yet understand, activate the recessive mutated genes and deactivate certain
other genes, giving rise to the abrupt appearance of a new organ, or perhaps
a new species.’
‘So just the right genes mutate randomly in
just the right way, and then at just the right time exactly the right genes
are randomly switched on or off to produce an evolutionary novelty?!
I thought you didn’t believe in miracles!’
‘I don’t. I believe in purely physical, natural and
lawful processes, but essentially random and unguided. Life is an amazing
accident.’
Usha and Uma watched through an open window as their husbands sat talking.
Usha was cradling her nine-month-old daughter in her arms.
‘So how has Khamseen been since he got out of prison?’
she asked.
‘Like a reformed man. I just pray it will last. He’s
abandoned his old domineering ways, and he’s more considerate and more satisfied
with what he’s got. It was touch and go, though, while he was in jail. We
were close to divorce on several occasions. You see, at first he was in a
state of denial, trying to make out that he hadn’t really done anything very
wrong. So I broke off contact for a while. But eventually he started being
more honest, and his letters became long confessions. He was really giving
himself a hard time. Then Keshava wrote him that long letter telling him it
was time to pull himself together and think of the future – and of me.
‘Well, it all worked out in the end. You know – you
may not believe this, as I know he’s occasionally been a bit nasty towards
you – but my husband is actually a well-meaning and caring man. He can get
very upset about all the poverty and injustice in the world. I’ll never forget
the time – it was just after he’d been released – that he visited the centre
for homeless children that my mother helped set up, where I’ve been doing
voluntary work during the past couple of years. You could tell he was really
moved by what he saw, especially the new youngsters who were brought in. Anyway
he disappeared for a while and I saw him out in the grounds, so I walked up
behind him and found him sitting there sobbing his heart out. I crept away
again as I didn’t want to embarrass him.’
‘I’d never have thought of Khamseen as the sentimental
type,’ said Usha.
‘Well, men are strange creatures. It’s sometimes difficult
to penetrate the thick concrete wall they build up around themselves. Maybe
Khamseen’s time in prison was just what he needed. And if we ever decide to
start a family, I just know he’ll be a wonderful, doting father.’
Sushila walked into the spare room with a cup of tea and some cakes. The
man was lying on the bed staring up at the ceiling.
‘I’ve brought you something to eat and drink,’ she
said to him.
‘Thank you, you’re very kind,’ said the man.
‘Are you a wood-cutter?’ she asked. ‘I saw the axe
in your jeep.’
‘Sort of.’ The man noticed a photograph standing on
a bookcase. ‘Are they your brothers?’
‘Yes, that’s right,’ said Sushila. She picked up the
photo and showed it to the man. ‘The older one is Sahula, and the younger
one is Ranjit.’
Suddenly the man spilt the cup of tea down his shirt
and let out a cry of pain.
‘Oh dear, never mind,’ said Sushila. She ran to get
a towel, and when she returned the man was sitting with the photograph in
his hands, with a distraught, almost demented look in his eyes.
She wiped his shirt for him.
‘I think you need to get some more rest. I’ll leave
you in peace for a while. Just call me if you need anything,’ she said, putting
the photograph back on the bookcase. She left the room and closed the door
behind her.
Terrible thoughts were assailing the man’s mind –
thoughts of revenge, lust and murder. He would never get another
opportunity like the one that now presented itself. His body swelled with
intense, uncontrollable sensations.
Fate had brought him to the house of Ranjit, the young
boy he had murdered eleven and a half years ago, and of his brother Sahula,
the freaky monk he had twice failed to murder. On the second occasion
he had struck him with an axe and seen blood spurt from his neck, but his
superior had later informed him that he had failed to kill him. Not only that,
he had tried to kill a friend of Sahula’s but the axe had mysteriously rebounded
and hit him in the face, turning his mouth into a bloody mess. He still bore
the deformities.
Sushila and her mother had been very kind to him.
But so what? This would be his ultimate act of revenge for the humiliation
he had suffered at Sahula’s hands. He would slit Sushila’s throat and then
violate her.
What a terrible, wasted life he had led! Long ago
he had entered the service of a dugpa, a practitioner of black magic. His
guru had assured him that by allying himself with the dark forces he would
acquire everything he wished for. But his several criminal acts had not prevented
him from suffering constant disappointments, and he had still not managed
to acquire any notable occult powers. That was why he had finally resolved
to start a new life. But he needed to commit this one final act of evil. The
urge to do so was simply overpowering and irresistible.
Of course the police would know he was responsible
for the murder, but they would find no clues about his identity in the stolen
jeep. And once the deed was done he would escape by hijacking a car. Then
he would start a new life somewhere, with a new identity, thanks to the large
sum of money he would receive when he handed over the object in his briefcase.
He had stolen it from a monastery that morning on his superior’s instructions.
He quickly opened his case and checked that the object
was still there. He also took out a knife. Then he walked slowly and quietly
out of the bedroom, and moved towards the settee, knife in hand. Sushila was
sitting with her back to him, engrossed in a book.
Step by step the man edged towards her. He was now
just two feet away. He began to reach out with the knife . . .
Suddenly the doorbell rang loudly.
Sushila sprang to her feet and turned round. She saw
the man, knife in hand, the grim expression on his face. Taking in the situation
at a glance, she screamed and dashed out of the living room and into the bedroom,
with the man in hot pursuit. She bolted the door and the man banged on it
with his fists and cursed loudly. It didn’t matter, she would not escape.
The man marched to the front door and angrily pulled
it open, knife at the ready. There was no one there. He stepped outside. There
was no one in sight. Then he ran round the side of the house. Sushila was
opening the bedroom window in a bid to escape. She screamed when she saw the
man and closed it quickly.
The man raced back into the house through the front
door. He ran straight at the bedroom door. Under his weight, the flimsy bolt
gave way and the door flew open. He rushed inside, but Sushila had been standing
against the wall close to the door and ran out into the living room.
She tried to leap over the settee, but caught the
top of it with her foot. She fell sprawling to the floor, landed with a thump
and rolled over. The man bounded forward and Sushila cowered before him, hysterical
with fright.
‘Why are you doing this?’ she cried. ‘We only wanted
to help you. Why do you want to hurt me?’
‘To take revenge for this,’ said the man, pointing
to his deformed lip and broken teeth. ‘It happened while I was trying to kill
Sahula. At least I managed to kill Ranjit.’
‘How could you have done such a thing?’ exclaimed
Sushila in disbelief. ‘He was just a little boy! What a horrible thing to
do!’
‘Just shut up and die bravely!’
‘But at least tell me why you killed my young brother.
Don’t you like children? Don’t you have any of your own? Have you had a troubled
past?’
Sushila was trying to play for time. She had made
a quick phone call from the bedroom on the man’s mobile phone before trying
to escape through the window.
‘And why do you want to kill me?’ asked Sushila
tearfully. ‘I’ve never hurt you. Why don’t you just leave quietly?’
‘Stop nagging for God’s sake and die like a man!’
The man seized her with his left hand and was about
to slash her with the knife when the front door burst open. Khamseen and Keshava
stormed inside. Taken by surprise, the man momentarily relaxed his grip. Sahula
pulled herself free and rushed away from him.
‘Be careful, you two! He says he killed Ranjit!’
‘You murdering bastard!’ Khamseen shouted. ‘I’ll kill
you when I get my hands on you!’ He was beside himself with rage.
The man snarled and slashed the air in front of him
with the knife. ‘Just try it!’ he said menacingly.
Suddenly a look of fear spread over the man’s face.
‘No! Not now, not now,’ he cried. He was beginning to shake and froth at the
mouth. He collapsed moaning to his knees. The knife fell out of his hand.
The three onlookers watched helplessly as he went into violent epileptic convulsions.
He was flailing his arms and legs uncontrollably, howling and regurgitating,
his face a picture of misery and despair. After a few minutes he became still,
apart from an occasional twitch and whimper. Khamseen retrieved the knife
and then tied the man up.
‘Why did he attack you?’ Keshava asked Sushila.
‘I don’t know. But he said he’d murdered Ranjit.’
‘Did he say anything about Sahula?’ asked Keshava.
Sushila hesitated. ‘He . . . he mentioned
his name, but he wasn’t making much sense. I think he’s extremely disturbed.
Poor, sick man. I’ll go and get his briefcase. Maybe it will provide some
more clues.’
She walked into the spare room. The man’s closed briefcase
was lying on the bed, and his mobile phone lay nearby, where Sushila had left
it. She opened the briefcase. Noticing an object wrapped in cloth, she uncovered
it then gasped in wonder as her eyes fell on a stunningly beautiful, luminous
crystal, seven inches long and five inches wide.
At that moment the mobile phone started to ring. She
was inclined to ignore it, but on a sudden impulse picked it up and pressed
the talk button.
‘Hello,’ she said softly.
After a few seconds she turned off the phone and put
it in the briefcase. Then she hid the crystal at the bottom of a drawer, closed
the case and took it with her into the living room.
At that moment, the front door opened and her mother
walked in with two police officers. She gaped in amazement at the scene before
her.
‘What on earth has been happening?’
‘The man went berserk and tried to kill me,’ Sushila
explained. ‘He said he’d murdered Ranjit but didn’t say
what happened to Sahula. Luckily I managed to ring Keshava before the
man got to me. He and Khamseen arrived just in time.’
The police apologized for being so late, saying that
they had gone to the wrong address. They looked inside the man’s case, but
found only the mobile phone, a map and a blank note pad. They would take him
to the police station, and then go and recover the man’s jeep. At least they
now knew the identity of Ranjit’s killer and would seek to bring him to justice.
And they would investigate the man’s background to try to learn more about
Sahula’s fate and about the man’s motives and possible accomplices.
Late that evening after everybody else had left the house, Sushila talked
over the day’s events with her mother. She showed her the beautiful crystal
and told her of the mysterious phone call.
‘It was a mechanical voice, a bit like a robot, and
it said: “The crystal is stolen. Hide it and guard it well.” Then it rang
off.’
‘Ah, there is so much we don’t understand. Maybe it’s
a good omen and means that Sahula will pay us another surprise visit soon.’
They both looked towards the door, half expecting
Sahula to walk in. But he didn’t. It was four years since his last visit.
There was no telling when he might return, or when Sushila might learn more
about the crystal.
‘And what made the doorbell ring at just the right
moment?’ said Sushila. ‘Khamseen suggested it was just a couple of kids playing
a prank and the timing was sheer luck – but that sounds rather far-fetched
to me.’
Nine months later Sushila received an unexpected letter telling her she had won first prize in a lottery competition. She and Usha had been in a nearby town eight weeks earlier and had seen a notice for the competition: a chance to win a week’s holiday for four on a remote island. Neither of them ever bought lottery tickets, but Usha persuaded Sushila to buy one for a laugh. And now she had won! After much discussion, it was decided that she would give the tickets to Usha and Uma and their husbands, and that Mrs Askari would pay for her daughter to accompany them on the trip. They had three months to make their preparations, and they were all looking forward to having a very enjoyable time.
Warrior of the Soul - 3: Part 4