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The Last Gambit
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Текст книги "The Last Gambit"


Автор книги: (IP of the USSR) Internal Predictor of the USSR


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Leaving for here I tried to realize my role in these intricate processes, for which the whole world is a scene. And now, when I’m trying to solve the Russian riddle and am occupied with business unlinked with the “picnics”, I got the necessary information from all over the world from people completely unfamiliar to me! This is possible, as I now understand, only in one case: the whole my activity aimed to solving the mystery of “picnics” and their connection with the “black Tuesday’s” events, is going inside the course of matrix enclosing these events. And for not committing follies I was to understand how those two worldviews differ one from another. But I’ve got one doubt after all I’d heard here.

Please, Mr. Holmes, I’m ready to help you resolve your doubt. By I ask you to take my retelling of the information with leniency.

Well, I’ll try to state my case. Since the discussed information should be available for everyone, I think that for an abundance of complicated terms there should be simple images. And when one needs, he or she should be able to expand and rebuild with these images all necessary attributes of the two worldviews in his or her memory.

Quite right, Mr. Holmes. Such simple images exist. And the Russians told of them a lot. They are a mosaic and a kaleidoscope. Everyone is able to understand how a “mosaic” differs from a “kaleidoscope”. All pieces of glass in mosaic are connected one with another. If one moves or rotates one of them it causes the movement of not only nearest but also of rather far pieces. And though some picture’s fragments can be somehow distorted, its whole substance remains the same; no matter how does one turn the very picture. One is able to examine a mosaic picture in details up to necessary scale, to choose, remember and visually recall the whole picture as well as its single fragment.

But a kaleidoscope is a horse of a different colour. Any slight turning or a simple jog will change the substance of the picture appearing in a kaleidoscope, and every time a picture will be new and charmingly fantastical. But in contrast to a mosaic picture, a next picture of “kaleidoscope” can be neither predicted nor visually recalled. Why? – Because all the pictures in kaleidoscope are substantially empty. One sees the same unformed heap of glasses, but reflected by the system of mirrors. This system also catches any the slightest changes in the order of glasses observed in a kaleidoscope.

Since the phenomenon called a “worldview” belongs to the unconscious psychical levels, the words “mosaic” and “kaleidoscope” are just symbols, indicating its two types, which possess all the above-listed properties of “mosaic” and “kaleidoscope” accordingly. Any other types of worldview could be brought to these two. The world understanding is the creation of the worldview type, which one’s psyche is devoted to. But it belongs to the consciousness, thus it’s expressed in certain words. It means that a mosaic world understanding corresponds with a mosaic worldview. As well as a kaleidoscopic world understanding corresponds with a kaleidoscopic worldview. One can conclude from this that a mosaic worldview is unified and whole, and everything is cause-and-effect related within it. Within such worldview the world is predictable, i.e. it is stable in predictability under the influence of external, internal factors and ruling. In other words, any new facts, event, phenomena or processes, become possessions of a mosaic worldview, just complete or make more exact the substance of the already formed whole picture of the world. From here the mosaic world understanding naturally develops an idea that the objective reality is cognisable.

In difference to a mosaic worldview, a kaleidoscopic one is a list of unconnected casual facts, events, phenomena and processes. Within such worldview the world doesn’t possess stability in predictability. It means that any new facts, event, phenomena or processes, become possessions of a kaleidoscopic worldview, changes beyond recognition the whole picture of the world. This fastens a stereotype that the world is incognisable. That’s why when it comes to worldview the consciousness labels with words only some primary maximally generalizing categories discussed earlier. These categories could be divided into two groups:

matter, information, measure;

matter, energy, space, time.

With all this the second group of images essentially is secondary regarding the first one (something like a reflection or “echo” of the first group). But those, whose worldview is nearer to the kaleidoscopic vision of the world, mistakenly take it as the primary.

From this, those, who operate with the first group of images at unconscious levels of psyche, take the endless Universe as the process of the triunity of matter, information and measure. And the world appears for them as a whole mosaic picture, in which everything is cause-and-effect conditioned. And those, who operate with the second group of images (matter, energy, space and time) at unconscious levels of psyche, take the surrounding world as a kaleidoscope of unconnected casual events.

These words – “matter, information, measure, energy, space, time” – are just “fingers” indicating objective phenomena, which appear in a form of images at the unconscious levels of psyche and are hard to distinct even because they are taken as the maximum, primary and generalizing everything. And everybody, to whom these images appear on the level of consciousness, is free to call them with his own words relying on the conceptual and terminological system available to their professional level. You should know how people in Russia respect Pushkin, Mr. Holmes.

Yes, Mr. Salem, on the day of my departure from London my friend Watson and I spoke much about Pushkin. We get to conclusion that his creation is somehow mystically connected with the “picnics”.

I’d like to say more, – Salem took up the new topic and opened a paper-case taken from the study. – The Russians claim that Pushkin genetically was proficient in the knowledge rather equal to the knowledge of the Ancient Egyptian hierophants. His mother’s father belonged to the noble Ethiopian family that could be traced to one of the Ancient Egypt ruling dynasties. In addition one of Moses’ wives was an Ethiopian and even Freud wrote that Moses had belonged to Egyptian zhrechestvo. I.e. Pushkin was able to distinguish historically real Moses from Moses described in the Bible on the basis of the information proceeded through the family aggregors. And an extract from his early poem “Gavriliada” can prove it. – With these words Salem took some sheets from the paper-case. – I don’t warrant the rhythmical similarity, but the conceptual part is completely reproduced as appreciated by Russian specialists who speak English perfectly.

I wouldn't agree my narration

With that what Moses was recounting:

He tried to charm a Hebrew with a fantasy,

He grandly lied and they were hearing him.

The Lord awarded him for style and duteous mind,

Moses became a famous gentleman,

But as for me, I'm not a court historian,

And I don't need a haughty prophet rank!

Having read the poem Salem settled back and attentively looked at his interlocutor waiting for any objections. Holmes silently looked at the heart of dark garden.

Well, what you can say about this poem, Mr. Holmes?

Only one: I wish I knew Russian. So I’m looking forward to the commentaries.

I think in this poem Pushkin didn’t say what was historically real Moses, but tried make a reader know that biblical figure of Moses didn’t suit him. In the beginning of the 19th century many people in Russia considered this poem to be a “mistake of youth”[71] of the young talent. But these “youth’s mistakes” were a dangerous sign for the devoted to the skill of ruling social processes. The poem told that somebody had appeared in Russia, who under certain circumstances was able to distinguish the true Afflatus given through the prophet from the tale about the afflatus, created by those for whom such righteousness was unacceptable. This “somebody” was ready to show the mankind real aims of “the owners of Scripture”[72]. And he could continue the work started by Ehnaton three millennia ago, as his enemies thought.

That’s why it isn’t surprising that Pushkin was able to distinguish the two groups of images, we have just discussed, as some entity. The Russians presented me his astonishing story in verses “A House at Colomna”, written in octanarians[73]. We started translating it on Arabian and English, since even in the first strophe of the foreword the poet expressed his attitude to the two worldviews using the vocabulary of poets’ guild.

Iambic tetrameter makes me tired,

Since everyone so writes. For children’s fun

It's time to leave it.

This is about “Amon’s quaternion”, which is taken through habit even today as the maximal generalizing categories of Universe[74] and is the basis of kaleidoscopic worldview. Even that time Pushkin thought that the majority of people have such a worldview (Since everyone so writes). For them the charming change of impressions is just a fun[75]. On your language it could be called a “picnic”, translated on Russian as “a pleasant pastime”. And so it goes that the word “picnic”, which had come into Russian from English lexicon, encodes the kaleidoscopic worldview on the unconscious psychical levels. And the Russian “puzzle’s” pictures say about it.

But what could Pushkin those times oppose to kaleidoscopic worldview within which the life is incognisable? – The eternity’s cognition.

Well, I have desired

For long to write in octonarians

Salem took a seemed to be fine gold “Parker” pen from a pocket of his white jacket. He cursed out Americans for that the metal screw cap was screwed on plastic body thread and thus the thread pair was quickly worn out. And a pen possessed the quality to fall to pieces in the very hands the most inappropriately. When he had coped with uncomfortable “Parker”, which he cared for something, Salem wrote a symmetrical eight on a napkin. Then he rotated in to 90º and continued his narration.

Look, Mr. Holmes, the octave is the eight. But from another side it’s the sign of infinity – the unified and whole Universe where everything is cause-and-effect conditioned. But the world is taken in such way only within the mosaic worldview, in which the Universe is the process of triunity of matter, information and measure. I think that Pushkin didn’t distinguish the images of the three appearances of the objective reality. But he took them as the whole triple consonance and told about it poetically:

Though I can really get the better of the triple

Consonance – I'll start the first-rate one.

The rhymes have always been the friends of mine:

The two will come then they’ll bring the third line.

And indeed, the triunity is the triple consonance of matter, information and measure. In other words, there could not be a matter as it is: any thing has its material, informational and measural[76] components and they all are equal from the point of their perception. None of them is primary towards the others and none of them is able to do without the rest in a certain thing. Moreover these three components so are mutually connected that none of them could be separated from the others – they are always together. Just during the cognition of objective reality the “division of the triple consonance” into the categories of matter, information and measure occurs.

In this case Pushkin in my opinion mentioned some “”technologies”, yet unknown to the biblical technocratic culture, by the words: “the two will come then they’ll bring the third line”. Probably the certain representatives of the antediluvian civilization were proficient in them, so the rest took them for the gods. If one is able to imagine in his mind an image of a thing (information) and its measure (an order at not only molecular and atomic levels but even at vacuum or etheric level[77]), then the material part of the thing should appear. It’s because in the Universe created by God everything comes out the vacuum and returns to it.

Mr. Salem. You speak of these technologies so earnestly, that I involuntarily want to ask: whether you yourself are proficient in them? – Holmes asked.

Unfortunately, – smiled Salem, – these technologies are inaccessible for me. But my wife says that a person known in modern India as Sai Baba[78], whom many people consider to be an incarnated god, wields such technologies, though visually they are indistinguishable from illusions. Sai Baba doesn’t consider himself to be a god. But nonetheless he think that anyone can create things from “nothing”, or precisely from vacuum, using the power of his or her imagination.

How surprising… Just before visiting you I’ve got the suggestion to fly from Cairo to Bombay to make my firm’s business.

If you have never been in India, Mr. Holmes, I strongly recommend you to take occasion and visit Sai Baba’s residence at once.

And how far is Sai Baba’s place from Bombay?

The small town, Puttaparthi is situated to the south from Bombay. But there is an airport, where two times a week pilgrims are ferried from Bombay in one hour. If you really want to visit India, my wife will give you all required information about the trip.

Thank you, Mr. Salem. If I’m going to India, I will surely consult with your wife. And now before the evening’s end I would like to ask you some questions, which seem to be connected with the Russian puzzles.

Please, Mr. Holmes. I’m at your service.

How do you think, Mr. Salem, what can this phrase mean? – Holmes took the napkin with the infinity sign and engrossed: “Sunlight everywhere”.

Sunlight everywhere? Where is this from, Mr. Holmes?

It’s taken from Trotsky’s testament. Did the Russians mention this figure in their conversations?

Yes they did many times, Mr. Holmes. But they were speaking of the Trotskyism as of the special type of psyche structure, when one says and does different things. In Islam it’s called “possession”, and according to the Russians’ opinion Trotsky was in full measure possessed. As regards the phrase, the Ancient Egyptian znakhars used to finish any ritual event in crowd’s presence with it. Understanding the monotheism in their own way and maintaining the crowd-“elitism”, they considered their task to be in assuring the crowd that the Sun was the God.

Do you want to say, that in that times this phrase was something like modern Christian “Amen”?

Quite right. “Amen” is the proper name of the Lord, whom indeed does the church of Christ worship. But it isn’t a name of Christ – Jesus, – whom does the church openly call its Lord. One can make sure that Amen is the real Lord of those, who had given the articles of faith to Christians, by looking to the Revelation to John: “To the angel of the church in Laodicea, write this: “The Amen, the faithful and true witness, the source of God’s creation, says this”[79].

Amen, Amin (orthodox), Amun, Amon are the variations of the same name of the god of Sun – Amon-Ra, whom did ancient Egyptians worshiped. Even if he is really “the faithful and true witness, the source of God’s creation”, nevertheless he is neither God the Almighty, nor Jesus Christ, who had come under his own name rather then under a pseudonym.

And the last I’d like to ask, Mr. Salem. Are you familiar to Albert Reville’s book “Jesus the Nazarene”?

Yes I do, Mr. Holmes. I’ve got it among my books, which even my grandfather, who for some time lived in France, began to collect. But what has attracted you in Reville’s book?

The matter is that Albert Reville in his book[80] for some purpose mentioned that after nearly 230 B.C. a pair of rabbis headed the Great Synagogue of Ancient Judea. However he didn’t explain this surprising fact. May be you, Mr. Salem, can make clear this fact.

It’s amazing, but the topic of ruling the Great Synagogue was also touched during our discussions with the Russians. And let it not surprise you, but the same Reville’s phrase stimulated it. As they explained me, the matter concerns a tandem principle of activity, which Ancient Egyptian hierophants successfully relied on. Later my friend from Russia sent me a detailed note on this theme and if you wish, I’ll make a copy for you.

Yes, Mr. Salem. I would like to better examine this method. As I understand, my grandfather used it in his practice. So I will be quite grateful to you if I get its detailed description.

A south night fell on Cairo. Lamps fired in the garden and along the Nile’s banks. Salem went to see his guest off and promised to send the note and translations of “Gavriliada” and “House in Colomna” with Mahmud at the next day.

Holmes sat at his notebook computer about an hour making the necessary notes about the meeting with Salem. Only after it he phone to London.

Good evening, Harvey. I call, as I’ve promised.

How did you spend the evening, Holmes? I hope that “belly dance” improved your mood. They say that Egyptian women bring round even the staunchest bachelors, like you, Holmes. Well, are you going to Bombay?

Yes, I’m going, Harvey, – Holmes passed off the cutting remark about belly dances. Moreover he really watched it sailing down river Nile on a special boat during his previous visit to Cairo. – But with a clause. I am to go to Puttaparthi.

All right, Mr. Holmes. But where is it? I haven’t heard of such Indian town.

It’s slightly to the south of Bombay, about an hour if going by air. There is the residence of Sai Baba. I will need a firm representative’s help. But after it, Harvey, I want no Colombo or Singapore.

I promise you, Holmes, the back flight from Bombay to London is guaranteed. If it wasn’t a secret, answer, isn’t this Sai Baba a rival firm?

Be quite, Harvey. He is the god in India and I want to see myself how was the world created.

I always liked your of humour. The firm’s representative Prakash Kumar will meet you at Bombay. All necessary information about our Indian affiliate you can get at our Egyptian office. Let Kumar know the day and number of your flight. If you need he will go with you to Putah…

Puttaparthi, Harvey.

Let it be Puttaparthi. Send my greeting to Sai Baba. See you in London. Good night.

October 8 – 12. India. Bombay-Puttaparthi

On Sunday Holmes got all the necessary information of Sai Baba’s ashram (the Indian god’s residence was called so) and ordered tickets to Bombay and Puttaparthi. Early in the Monday’s morning Mahmud drove him to the airport of Cairo and four hours later Holmes was at Bombay. A lean young Indian dressed in European style met him and immediately drove to the “Sheraton” hotel. It was a first Holmes visit to India and Prakash showed him the sights of the sea gates to India.

In Bombay there also is an ashram of Sai Baba, Mr. Holmes, – he said friendly smiling.

Does Sai Baba visit it?

No, he spent almost all his time in Puttaparthi. Pilgrims all over the world go there; and everyone want to see Sai Baba, to be received by him and talk to him.

And you, Prakash, did you see him?

No, Mr. Holmes. I even haven’t been in Puttaparthi.

Well, we’ll fly together this Wednesday, and may be he will receive you.

It’s very difficult, Mr. Holmes. People spent much time waiting but far from everybody get a happiness to talk with him. He himself decides whom to talk with.

Bombay wasn’t like Cairo. Holmes felt it even in the international airport: something was wrong. This “something” couldn’t be seen or touched, but he felt it somehow specially, may be with the sixth feeling. Was it the India’s smell or peculiar October’s heat? Yes, of course it was another – unusual – heat. It was stuffy heat, enveloping all the body with sticky sweat, when even after five minutes under the Sun one’s brains began to melt and he desired to return under cool air provided by car-conditioner. And the Sun was quite different there: it wasn’t bright and hard as in Spain or Egypt, but looked like a washed white disk on faded blue heat haze above. How could these figures on the emerald-green grass of a stadium accustom to this heat? No, the matter didn’t concern the Sun or heat: there were something another. May be these people sitting along runoff ditches near strange constructions made of cardboard and rags?

How many are they, I wonder? – Holmes even didn’t note that asked it aloud.

Whom? Little people? – Prakash tried to make the question clearer. – So they are called here.

In Bombay? –Holmes asked again.

No, in India.

And why are they called so?

Because they don’t exist. It is as though they exist, but from the higher casts’ point of view they are not. It always has been so. They don’t have homes, work or papers. They are counted only in mass in births-and-deaths statistics.

But how much of them are in India?

About thirty percents. Taking into account that India’s population is over a billion, they are more than thirty millions.

It’s the whole Europe! And does nobody struggle for their rights, even they themselves?

They don’t know another life. They are born here, live their time, leave posterity and go to another world. Sometimes, when it’s needed to build something at the place where they lives, a column of trucks come, load them with all their property and take them to another place.

And aren’t they indignant, don’t they protest, don’t they try to change somehow their status?

??? – Prakash looked at Holmes as if he was a child, asking silly questions without an answer. – Please, Mr. Holmes, don’t try to give them something or buy. You will change nothing, but you can get problems.

Well, Prakash, I’ve understood. I’ve been warned of this already in Cairo.

“No, – Holmes was reflecting. – It wasn’t a poverty, which he met in every country. It was something different he didn’t know a word for. And this “something” demanded it’d definition. Holmes accustomed to analyse all that attracted his attention at first time met something new phenomenon. Following the distinction algorithm on the level of “this – not this” he recalled possible analogues, using which he could classify that new that he became a witness of. He remembered Verov’s reasoning that a concept is an image and a word. The word could appear as the familiar image’s consequence. But an adequate image didn’t appear and the occurring words, concerning what he had heard and seen, were empty and dead.

We are at the place, Mr. Holmes, – Prakash interrupted his thoughts about “little people”. – Make yourself comfortable and after two hours I’ll be ready to drive you to local “Ernst & Young” affiliate.

The “Sheraton” hotel in Bombay was quite similar to the hotels of that company in other countries. Situated all over the worlds they were a peculiar symbol of stability and wealth of the West. Services provided by the hotel’s administration also were standard. But in India and so in Bombay there was a problem with water. Europeans were strictly prohibited to use tap water; only water from special packages even for teeth cleaning. Holmes knew it, and remembered the English colonial government who had lived there two centuries before. How did they solve such problems? After all there were no conditioners and water purifier.

The business for which Holmes had come to Bombay was not too easy. The Indian juridical norms only in appearance were similar to the British one. But they let to interpret the certain regulations of bankruptcy in many ways, so they turned a free migration of capital into the one-way flow. The Indian legislature as it was included the deep hidden inner algorithm, surely defending the country’s credit-financial system from foreign intervention. On the second day in Bombay Holmes understood, that he was able to solve only the particular conflict between his firm’s management and the Indian administration. After his departure the global strategy of the Indian government would remain unchanged, and in some time “Ernst & Young’s” activity in this country anyway would become problematic.

Was Holmes a patriot of the firm he represented in different countries? He would hardly answer that he was. He was most likely interested in watching the resistance of national capital of a certain country against the international capital. And he many times caught himself at thoughts that he was far from supporting the last one. From the other side he understood well that the process of concentration the society’s productive forces, called the “globalisation”, was an objective process. It means that it goes in spite of the wishes of individual persons, even the most eminent statesmen. Neither Ehnaton, nor Ramses, nor Julius Caesar, nor Napoleon could stop it. All of them could either slow it down or speed it up. But with all this some conception of ruling this process always exists. Of course it was a subjective one, since in any conception the interests of certain persons are expressed.

But “little people”, as Prakash Kumar had called them, had no opportunity to express their interests in such conception of productive forces concentration and they moreover had no possibility to realize their potential human dignity. So what role did they play in this process?

Again and again Holmes searched for image necessary for classification the new phenomenon while the familiar shots from the film “matrix” hadn’t come back to his memory.

Of course! In this film all the mankind was a source of some specific type of energy for the machine “matrix”, something like batteries for its recharge. If to think clearly the position of the majority of people towards aggregors is the same – they supply aggregors with their energy, necessary for achieving aims of masters and managers of aggregors. Through the special system of “connections” people share their energy with aggregors and through the same “connections” aggregors and their managers influence on all “connected”. Thus all of them in this or that degree don’t dispose of themselves. “Connections” for different people can be different passions and hobbies: from various narcotics, starting with widespread tobacco and alcohol (Holmes himself had such sin), to pop-music. And so in modern mass media (television, radio, papers and magazines) there are all necessary meanings for influence over the “connected”.

It means that the row of terrible images in the “Matrix” is far from fiction and schizophrenic ravings. It’s the visualisation of the quite definite aggregor, which rules the Western regional civilization. And here in India Holmes met with some very old aggregor, for which do the hundreds of millions of “little people” served like “batteries”. And was this their mission? – It seemed that the organizers of the cast system hadn’t provided another mission for them…

Going to domestic airport of Bombay Holmes noted to him that nobody had showed him the “picnics” in India and hadn’t raised the questions like those that he had discussed in Switzerland and Spain. Why was he going to Puttaparthi? Why did he need to talk with Sai Baba? He had no answers to these questions, but probably one that he had given to Harvey as a joke. Though, was it a joke?

The plane had already taken off when Holmes noticed that both cabins were hardly one third full. Prakash Kumar explained that only solvent foreigners fly to the ashram by plane, but the majority of pilgrims travel by train. Nonetheless in Puttaparthi there was the airport of Sai Baba with one runway, and another one was constructing. The weather was fine; there wasn’t a single cloud on the sky and a wonderful view of the Indian Ocean at first and a flat part of the country later opened up before one's eyes. The small clean airport was situated between the hills covered with bright verdure. At one of them there was a crowd of meeting people: cars, cycle-cars – the whole set of services of any big Indian city. Prakash as a man of experience selected the wanted attendant. And then the selected car was let in the airport for taking the passengers and luggage.

This is about the only income of local taxi-drivers. Two times a week pilgrims arrive and two or three hundreds rupees (four – five dollars) is the fair profit for anyone, regarding the nearly total unemployment of the fifty-thousand-people town, – commented Prakash.

About fifteen minutes they drove the modern road by temples, the University of Sai Baba and other religious buildings. Then they achieved the ashram’s gate. From there they were to go on foot. The ashram like a big oasis was situated inside the crowded town full of shops, dirty streets runoff ditches and cheap hotels. Surrounded with stonewall it represented a striking contrast to the noisy and dusty town with its discordant and multicoloured crowd. Holmes and Prakash were accommodated in one of hotel blocks, located along the perimeter of ashram, in the western sector. They had to put on a white cotton shirt and trousers bought at local shop. After it Holmes and his satellite became indistinguishable from other pilgrims who were more than five thousands in the ashram.

One could say that on the small territory of ashram the whole world was represented in miniature. Delegations from different countries numbered from two-three to ten and more men and its members wore differential signs in the form of kerchiefs with national flags features. Holmes noticed that a price of living, food and clothes was purely symbolic; this suggested that the whole enterprise was obviously unprofitable. Evidently something was made there with participation of very rich sponsors.

Prakash got all necessary information about the ritual of meeting with Sai Baba and suggested to go to bed early after the supper. Suddenly somebody cautiously knocked the door of their room. Holmes looked interrogatively on his neighbour, but he shook his shoulders with surprise showing that he had invited nobody.

Come in, – called Holmes.

The door opened and a young man dressed in white pilgrim’s clothes bringing a folder with some papers entered the room. By appearance he was not more then thirty. He had swarthy face with slightly slanting black eyes and disarming amiable smile. Holmes decided that even if he hadn’t been an inhabitant, he most likely belonged to the ashram’s maintenance staff. But what had led him here?


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