Текст книги "The Warriors Of Shambhala"

Автор книги: Sergii Sheludchenko

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 1 (всего у книги 17 страниц) [доступный отрывок для чтения: 7 страниц]

Sergii Sheludchenko
The Warriors Of Shambhala

Translated by Samuel Hawes

“In the midst of the high mountains there are hidden enclosed valleys. Many hot springs nourish the rich vegetation. Many rare plants and medicinal herbs are able to flourish on this unusual volcanic soil. Perhaps, you have noticed hot geysers on the uplands. Perhaps, you have heard that only two days away from Nagchu, where there is not a tree or plant to be seen, there is one valley with trees and grass and warm water. But who may know the labyrinths of these mountains? Upon stony surfaces it is impossible to distinguish human traces. One cannot understand the thoughts of people and he who can is silent! Perhaps, you have met numerous travelers during your wanderings – strangers, wearing simple clothes, walking silently through the desert, in heat and cold, toward their unknown goals. Do not believe, because the garments are simple, that the stranger is unimportant! If his eyes are half closed, do not presume that his glance is not keen. It is impossible to discern from which direction power approaches. In vain are all warnings, in vain are all prophecies, but only by the one path of Shambhala can you attain achievement.”

N. Roerich. "Shambhala Shining"

* * *

A strong gust of wind from the mountains tore off the veil of the morning fog, revealing a landscape of hidden glaciers of high plateaus and a river. Alexander, reined in his horse at the water's edge, and beckoned to Hephaestion, who was slightly behind the king. The Commander worried about the upcoming crossing. The army was exhausted by long marches and heavy fighting and had lost its former stability. Great Conquerors dreamed to reach the borders of Oecumene,[1]1
  Oecumene (also spelled œcumene or oikoumene) is a term originally used in the Greco-Roman world to refer to the inhabited universe (or at least the known part of it).


[Закрыть] which were becoming increasingly an illusion. According to rumors, a rich country was lying beyond the river, which was unknown of before the bloody wars and numerous natural disasters. It was the last mythical frontier of the World.

The king dismounted near the masters, who had constructed some rafts. A minute after watching their precise coordinated work, he headed downstream. After a few steps, he saw Aristander, the soothsayer, who accompanied the army on the march. The old man was animatedly discussing something with a man dressed in a strange yellow garment. Seeing the approach of the king, the parties respectfully bowed. The strangers had little slanted eyes. They were dispassionately looking at the young commander. Alexander felt somehow insecure and wanted to hide his confusion, so he turned to Aristander:

‘I hope you received the blessing of the gods, didn’t you?’ The Prophet started talking instead of the stranger. He was a master of the Macedonian native tongue. It was a smooth and melodic voice that did not naturally go together with the strange appearance of the guest.

‘Great king, I have come from a distant country, behind the high mountains. It is called China. Sages who sent me know about your intentions to reach the Eastern Ocean. They were asked to tell you that when you were reaching its shores, but you will not reach the edge of the earth. The land is spreading over the waters of the Eastern Ocean again. And if the sky be favorable to the traveler, who went on a long journey, having made many thousands of steps, he will return again to the place where his journey began. It will take many years to overcome this distance. The land of the Great Mahatma, known as the Roof of the World was forty thousand stades[2]2
  The stades is an ancient Greek unit of length. According to Herodotus, one stade is equal to 600 feet


[Закрыть] away in the east, surrounded by mountains. It is the country of higher knowledge, giving birth to the gods. Not one mortal can reach its borders. And while your way lies on the side of its borders, the Great Teachers patronize the land where you are going. And what gardener will destroy what he nurtured? Only the impunity of the trees could do this. What kind of farmer will allow the trampling of his crops?’

‘Barbarous nations that you conquered lived in ignorance and vice. Heaven bestow on thee a victory over them as a punishment. Then there is no way. Come home. You won’t cross the river. The land begins behind the river that is not subject to the force of arms. Death is waiting for you there. That's all that the sages were asked to convey to you.’ The words of the stranger shocked Alexander. Apparently, the king of kings was a barbarian for the ragged tramp. Mahatma, country of gods, governors of the world! These were undoubtedly some ravings of a madman.

‘Kill him!’

The lifeless body of the messenger collapsed at the king’s feet.

‘Let’s start the crossing immediately! The detachment of Hephaestion will go first!’

The rafts were launched onto the water. The patrols of mounted archers were sent up and down the river. Alexander, Ptolemy, Seleucus and Kenos were attentively watching the movement of troops. The army of many thousands began moving.

The morning fog had finally cleared. Twelve people were dressed in white, wearing woven threads of pure mountain snow clothing, stood on the opposite bank of the river. The wind ruffled their head wraps, hearing the sound from a distance. Is it any wonder that in the mist before dawn they merged with the river mist? It seemed as though they had been carved out from stone statues of the Olympian gods, majestic and silent, suddenly emerging from the haze.

Soldiers, who were preparing for the crossing, finally noticed the strange visitors. An unimaginable noise began, whistling and howling through the roses. In rafts they cluttered, which interrupted the loading of the advanced detachment. Alexander sent Ptolemy to restore order immediately. Hephaestion appeared at the raised platform.

‘Alexander, do you see people on the other side?’

‘I do!’

‘Maybe they are ambassadors, aren't they? I thought you'd like to talk to them.’

‘Occupy the crossing!’

‘They are unarmed, most likely they come in peace.’

Alexander thought for a moment. Hephaestion was right, you can try to negotiate and avoid bloodshed with the peace embassy.

‘Seleucus, deliver these people to me! If they will resist, kill them!’

Seleucus went to the raft, accompanied by ten hoplites.[3]3
  Hoplites were citizen-soldiers of Ancient Greek city-states who were primarily armed with spears and shields.


[Закрыть] As soon as the Macedonians pushed off from the shore with long poles, one of those who stood on the opposite side came forward. He raised his hands to the sky, and then stretched in a forward direction. The fact that the Macedonians saw in the next moment, shocked even the experienced warriors. A gust of strong windswept hoplites of Seleucus came from the raft, throwing them into the water. Then the man, dressed in white robes, pointed his finger at the river, while the raft was floating away, a tree broke in two as if it had been burnt. Exclamations of surprise and fear burst from the soldiers, who had come to the shore.

‘Hit them with arrows!’ Alexander was now raging.

The detachment of mounted archers-Bactrians[4]4
  Bactrian is the ancient name of a historical region located south of the Amu Darya and west of Gandhara, one of the ancient civilizations of Iranian peoples, covering the modern-day flat region that straddles Afghanistan and Tajikistan. Ancient Bactrian was in present-day northern Afghanistan, between the Hindu Kush mountain range and the Amu Darya.


[Закрыть] rushed to the crossing. A man in a white robe raised his hands again. Horses shied back, as if they were running into an invisible barrier. A rider flew into sharp coastal rocks, which, however, did not stop the Bactrians, who were hardened in battle. A moment later, the arrows whistled through the air. Hitting the target at a distance was very easy for these tight Bactrian bows. But the arrows, magically, changed the trajectory and speed of flight.

Alexander stood in a daze. Aristander touched the hand of the king:

‘We can’t cross the river. The messenger did not lie to you. There is a Celestial warrior of the country, who gave birth to the gods. Stop, Alexander!

With the force the commander clenched the old man, gazing into the eyes of the soothsayer.

‘Ptolemy, take the warriors! We will not cross.’ This was the last phrase Alexander said quietly to himself.

People on the other side lined up in a row again. As soon as the last warrior retired to a distance of five yards from the water, Alexander heard a voice louder than the clap of spring thunder. It was coming from the sky.

‘We are the warriors of Shambhala, Messengers of the Great Mahatma are glad that you, Alexander, king of Macedon, prevented bloodshed. Come back home. Your fate is now in the hands of Heaven.’

At the same moment the fog tightened around the banks of the river again, hiding the people on the opposite side.

The army was now leaving. They waited for a difficult way home. Alexander ordered to erect on the banks twelve stone pillars symbolizing steadfastness and fortitude of the heavenly host in remembrance of his meeting with the ambassadors of Shambhala.

Alexander was the king of Macedonia, conqueror of nations and peoples, who died at the age of thirty-two under mysterious circumstances. Some of his colleagues argued that the night before the death of their commander, they saw not far from his quarters a strange man, dressed in yellow clothes.

Anton closed his tattered paperback book, switched off the torch and came out from under the blankets. There were amusing stories, especially the last one, about Alexander the Great. The boy was interested in ancient history, but, unfortunately, there was very little information in literature in the orphanage’s library. And he found this book in the boiler room, where they helped with the men to unload coal. There was an alternative history, an ancient world through the eyes of science fiction writers; here is the name of the book. Everything is clear with fiction, but the boy didn’t understand this alternative story. "I'll ask the teacher tomorrow” Anton moved his pillow and made himself comfortable. He closed his eyes. He dreamed of battle-hardened Greek soldiers, monks in yellow robes, tropical forests and high mountains.

* * *

A ray of sunshine cheerfully rolled down the snow-covered slope. For a moment, it was paused at the edge of the abyss and chasm, jumping over the gorge and ran to a narrow cleft, departing somewhere in the heart of the mountain. Running on the gray, slimy, block of granite, blocking the entrance to a small cave, it stopped at the fire embers. A scarlet petal of the flame burst from under a pile of ashes, welcoming a kindred spirit carrying the heat in the kingdom of darkness and snow.

Manlam opened his eyes. Sunbeams were dancing on the stone arches. The noise of a mountain stream came from the depths of the gorge. The heart-rending howling of the wind was not heard and the snow did not close the curtain of the cave – the storm was over. The demons of the mountains don’t often favor the traveler in the winter months. Manlam was at a distance of one transition from the target. If he was lucky, at sunset he will be at the gates of the monastery of Maitreya Buddha, located on one of the high plateaus of Northern Nepal. The youth spent three days in a cave, hiding from the raging elements. His food reserves had ended. The only hope for salvation was the monastery, where the youth was going. Manlam knew that any delay could lead to a disaster. The mountain climate was so unpredictable.

It was so hard to force yourself to get out from under the warm blankets. Sunbeams touched the boy’s face, Manlam smiled. It was nice to feel a little bit of heat. The gods loved him this morning; the sunshine confirmed this. The young man got to his knees and in one motion dropped a felt flap. The cold pierced his body like sharp icy needles. Without a doubt, the monastic toga,[5]5
  The toga, a distinctive garment of Ancient Rome, was a cloth of perhaps 20 ft (6 m) in length which was wrapped around the body and was generally worn over a tunic. The toga was made of wool, and the tunic under it often was made of linen.


[Закрыть] saved from the demons, did not protect him against the frost of the Himalayas. Throwing bush wood into the dying remnants of the fire, Manlam started preparing breakfast. A handful of rice, seasoned butter pale pink tea and stale cake were the last reserves. He thanked heaven for giving him a meal and then he hastily packed up and hit the road: a fragile young man in monastic clothes, forgotten by everyone on the cold mountain trail. He was walking solid gait, without thinking about the dangers of it. He was walking simply by the call of his heart. There, behind the mountain peaks, was lying the Land of Snows, Shambhala sparkled like a diamond in an expensive frame in his heart – the land of the Gods, the abode of the sages was forbidding possession of the great Mahatma.

Manlam heard for the first time about Shambhala when he was novice. But at that time he did not pay much attention to the stories of the old Lama. He was sent to the care of the monastery near the village as an infant like many other boys from poor families. “Servants of virtue" – the name given for the little novices, who earned their livelihood in the confines of the monastery.

Manlam endured all the difficulties, associated with obedience and dignity, and in his spare time he was engaged with the monks. He learned to read and write more quickly than his peers. Seeing the boy thrust into this knowledge, the abbot handed him over under the protection of the caretaker in the monastery library. In his initiation period Manlam spent days among the shelves and racks, littered with piles of painted hieroglyphs, and scrolls of the Holy Scriptures. There were also quite a lot of new books coming from Nepal and Sikkim[6]6
  Sikkim is a landlocked Indian state located in the Himalayan Mountains.


[Закрыть] temples. The boy studied Sanskrit,[7]7
  Sanskrit is the primary liturgical language of Hinduism, a philosophical language in Hinduism, Buddhism, and Jainism.


[Закрыть] Indian astronomy and astrology, and successfully mastered Chinese calligraphy. Somehow going through semi-rotting scrolls in one of the abandoned library cells, he stumbled upon an ancient manuscript, telling the story of a pilgrimage to Gelong[8]8
  Gelongma is the Tibetan word for a fully ordained monastic observing the entire Vinaya. While the exact number of vows observed varies from one ordination lineage to another, generally the female monastic observes 360 vows while the male monastic observes 265.


[Закрыть] of the Great Mahatma. The young man poring over every line, trying to understand and to present what the Lama wrote about: beautiful palaces, lovely gardens, crystal clear streams, hidden high in the mountains and heaven. His imagination painted all the charm of the Earthly Gods with the candle burning out. The young monk-apprentice, with difficulty, judged the corrosion of time and dampness the signs of the Tibetan letters. He did not manage to read the scroll. The flame of a candle extinguished for the last time, and the cell was plunged into darkness. Taking the manuscript and a small object with strange signs and a huge red seal, Manlam came out into the corridor.

The teacher was engaged in rewriting some ancient text. He was sitting on a soft cushion, cross-legged and writing on his knees. Initially, the Lama did not notice the strange behavior of the young men who could not find a place in the large library. But then he noticed the edge of the papyrus, sticking out from under Manlam’s toga.

‘My son, what are you puzzled about? We can talk about this, can’t we?’

Manlam held out for the teacher a scroll that he had found. The Lama quickly scanned the initial lines of the manuscript and put it aside. But a piece of cloth, decorated with a strange seal stirred the interest of the old monk. He took a long look around the print marks. Then he put the object behind the lapel of garments under his chest.

‘You're not ready to discuss this issue.’

‘Teacher, people say much about paradise in heaven, but nobody said that heaven is on earth.’

‘Ridiculous! The mortal body cannot attain bliss in the physical world. Only spiritual perfection leads to nirvana. Nothing could be more perfect than the rest. Death is inevitable for all living things.’

‘But Gelong writes that he saw people, beautiful bodies, like gods and the immortal have.’

‘The majority who live endeavor to reach immortality. I've heard some manage this. But in all my life I have not seen any of those who have been given eternal life, but the smoke of the pyre has claimed thousands of bodies in the sky. It was not known whether they returned back, reborn, or gone to other worlds, although there are undeniable facts, speaking about the possibility of transmigration of the soul. During the long years of work in the library, I read thousands of manuscripts, and gave talks about the incredible miracles that occurred in particular places. There were also others, causing doubt and thus completely denying the possibility of reincarnation. Now let's talk about an earthly paradise. Somewhere in the mountains, as legend has it, sheltered from the eyes of the mortal lies the Land of the Gods, called Shambhala. In our library there is too little information about this amazing country. Great lamas claim that the Land of the Gods exists, and some of them have even been there. But not everyone is destined to reach its limits, and especially cross border ownership of the Great Mahatma. Only he who hears the call of Shambhala is free to overcome an invisible line, protected by guards. I've heard stories of pilgrims that in one of the mountain monasteries appeared an old man. He was revered in the temple as a saint. He took a vow of Kamatang, who was a contemplative monk. Rumor has it that his inner vision saw a lot better than a good observer in clear weather. If you believe the rumors are true, he was the only old man still alive, who managed to go to Shambhala. In Tibet, there are closed monasteries; studying Kalachakra[9]9
  This is a term used in Vajrayana Buddhism that means wheel of time or "time-cycles". The word Kālacakra is usually used to refer to a very complex teaching and practice in Tibetan Buddhism. Although the teaching is very advanced and esoteric, there is a tradition of offering it to large public audiences.


[Закрыть] Tantra, which is the only doctrine, has come down to us from the Land of the gods. It was difficult to get into their walls. One of them, the abode of Maitreya – Tantric Datsan, is located in Nepal. In contrast to the Tibetan temples, its gates are visible only for the search of true knowledge. Thousands of manuscripts will not replace the communication with those who are granted the happiness of heaven to get to the Land of the Great Mahatma. Now you have to go, I need to work.’ The teacher bent over a scroll.

Manlam went to Lha-khang, the room where he kept statues of the gods, but not for the passionate prayer before the statue of Buddha. He stood for a long time in the huge room, surrounded by terracotta statues of Bodhisattvas,[10]10
  A bodhisattva is an enlightened being. According to Tibetan Buddhism, a Bodhisattva is one of the four sublime states a human can achieve in life.


[Закрыть] pondering what he heard. "Shambhala – is an amazing country, which inspires ghostly hope. Perhaps, true knowledge is more expensive than a human life! But the teachings of the Buddha tell a different story. Where is the search for the truth? " A young monk disciple turned sharply and went to his cell, where he lived in solitude as a full member of the monastic community.

At night he found himself far from the monastery. A cold wind was tearing at his maroon toga, snow gushing around, thus hurting his face. He walked to the side of the Zhongson pass, being at the borders of Nepal, Tibet and Sekima. The fragile young man was one of the forgotten people of Heaven and still on the mountain trail, dressed in his robes, with a knapsack on his back and a heavy stick in his hand. There, beyond the pass, on a high plateau, lost among the Himalayan snows, was the abode of Maitreya Buddha.

* * *

The Chief of General Directorate of Police in Bangkok, Narong Deng, sat on a soft leather chair drinking a little whiskey and smoking a good cigar, which was all that Deng needed at the moment. He ordered not to be connected with anyone on the phone and canceled all visitors. Although the working day had just begun, the problem did not take long to emerge. Much operational information had accumulated during the night. Narong scanned the sheets and laid them out on the table. Ten murders per day were usual for a fifteen million population metropolis. Next, the operation "East" was a joint development of the Anti-drug trafficking and Interpol. This was something new. Narong knew that a few days ago in Bangkok representatives of some special groups were in attendance. Deng blew smoke toward the air conditioner and set aside the document with the official seal of the Department, this problem had not been dealt with by the police.

The powerful fans from the air conditioner had dispelled a cloud of aromatic smoke after only a few seconds, filling the room with a pleasant coolness. It would be nice if the problem would melt away. The melodic buzzer lifted Narong from his thinking.

‘Chief, you have a call from the Department.’ It was a pleasant secretary’s voice came on the line.

‘Put him through.’

‘Hello, Deng, how are you?’ The voice of the first deputy head of the Department did not promise anything good.

‘Thank you, sir, not too bad.’

‘I've been waiting for you for three hours. Tack holds the documents in the case of Taihang.’

‘But, sir, the case is with the investigative team.’

‘I’ve been waiting for you for three hours!’ Short beeps were heard on the line.

It has begun! What kind of report can be discussed if the investigation has just begun? The accusation was based on the testimony of the two witnesses who were detained in Myanmar. Taihang tried to smuggle a large amount of cash to Sri Lanka with their help. According to the law, the detainees were threatened with a huge sentence and they kindly agreed to help the investigation in exchange for their inclusion in the witness protection programme. It had long been known that Taihang had a solid share of the illegal gaming businesses in Bangkok, but they could not manage to get close to him. His list of interests included drug dealing, arms trafficking and a network of brothels and hotels catering for many clients.

Taihang was a native of Taiwan, who had appeared in Bangkok five years ago. He was detained twice by police last time, on suspicion of murder. Money and networking had taken their toll. There was huge corruption and debts, but these were subsequently covered up in many cases. Witnesses disappeared, eyewitnesses refused to testify. In general, everything went according to the old accumulated scheme. As a result, Taihang remained at large.

Deng Narong foresaw that the case could be reversed, and it was imperative not to force things. He did not want to be extreme. The call from the Department alerted him. Had these important patrons decided to merge Taihang?

They were crowded in the lobby of the Royal Military Police Department. Deng took off his uniform jacket and mentally wished himself luck.

The adjutant managed to rise from his seat, welcoming the senior officer.

‘Come in, sir.’

Five people were sitting at a long table in the office of the Deputy Head of the Department. Narong knew two of them. There was the chief Interpol representative and next to him the Head of the Antidrug trafficking. The rest included smart guys with tanned weather-beaten faces, two Europeans and a giant black man. These boys would fit into any field gear much more than ironed parade uniforms.

‘The colonel, Narong Deng, came on your order.’

‘Come on, Colonel, sit down. I would like to introduce you to our American friends.’

Deng nodded, greeting the audience, and took a seat next to the chief of Interpol.

‘Sir, all are here, and I can start.’ The first deputy spoke in English.

‘The central headquarters of Interpol received a report of a major deal that Taihang was going to make, who was detained by you, Narong. Buyers have offered a batch of opium valued at about ten million dollars. Taihang is going to hold an auction, inviting customers from several regions. Naturally he would have to cooperate with those who will offer the most favorable conditions. The meeting place will be a village in the Tapie valley. Interpol controlled stakeholder representatives arriving in Bangkok, and we need to ensure the monitoring of Taihang’s people. This represents a good opportunity to put an end to the gang "Tonga Dragons", as they call themselves. Unfortunately, in connection with the arrest of Taihang we have to cancel the operation, especially the buyers who are most likely to inform about his problems. We need to develop a new plan for the liquidation of the drug cartel. Our American friends have offered us their help. These gentlemen have experience of similar actions,’ the chief pointed to the Americans, who were sitting at a table.

‘The Group has successfully completed the mission in South America, and with the kind consent of the Government of the United States, in which several experts were sent to us. Now let’s move onto Taihang. The Bangkok Police Department has launched a criminal case. Witnesses are under the protection programme. Colonel Narong will acquaint you now with the basic materials.’

Deng outlined the essence of the matter very briefly. The Americans wrote down something in their notebooks.

‘Sir, can you trust people working on Taihang?’

‘His real name is YueFei. Taihang is rather a nickname or middle name. His parents emigrated from Beijing to Hong Kong. He arrived in Bangkok as part of a Chinese Tonga, called "Dragon". Within a few years he was able to become the head of the clan including some close family members of his. The overwhelming number of employees on the Taihang is Chinese, the other, a local mob, perform menial jobs. The informants reported that Taihang at the time bought large quantities of weapons, but we could not go to his warehouses. People, who were detained earlier, were silent. In their midst operates a strict order of rituals, something like the Italian Mafia.’

‘Narong, are you talking about criminals or national heroes?!’

‘Excuse me, sir, I didn’t say that. I mean, it is unlikely that they will testify. It's easy to keep track of Taihang’s people, they are not hiding.’

‘We must make maximum efforts for the elimination of Taihang’s groups. After the meeting you will receive instructions and a plan of action. Narong’s management in the active phase of the operation will not take part, but will assist with the development of the investigation. Today the Colonel will transfer Taihang’s gentlemen from the special division. We can get valuable information from a detainee by the Interpol head of the Kashgar groups, who cooperated with Tongan "Dragon". Taihang is involved personally in the creation of the organization. Income derived from the sale of drugs in China is much higher than dividends we expected. Taihang tried to get rid of mediators from Kashgar’s clan, and decided to control drug trafficking on his own. An anonymous informant told the time and place of the next transaction, attended by Kashgarians. Naturally, all participants were arrested. After the detention of Fan Kuai, who led the group, who, surprisingly, has agreed to assist the police in investigating the case of Taihang. He was suspected of betrayal. But the head of Kashgar's clan put forward the only requirement before he testifies; he wants to meet with Taihang individually. We have accepted the terms of Fan Kuai. Taihang will go to China in the morning. The experts are developing an operational plan, and are confident that new details will emerge of the activity of Tonga "Dragon” after a meeting with Fan Kuai.’

* * *

G2Vismain sequence star, called "yellow dwarf" is navigator’s slang. The center of the system, which consists of thirteen planets, is located on the boundary of the sphere. The outskirts, which were forgotten by God, are only referenced in the navigation handbooks and in the reports of prospecting astrologers. The only inhabited planet, which was removed in one and a half astronomical units from the sun. It wasn't valuable to the military and the industry trade companies. If a week ago, the packet-boat commander orderly, Major compartment III of the Immediate Office of His Majesty the Emperor Charlemagne, Olaf Mueller, a month ago, was heard that he would be locked in a hole, he would take such similar messages as a joke.

Then the transfer order of the second lieutenant, Jurgen Mayer, under the operational control of the General Staff Kosmoflot, would have taken far less mockery. Olaf Muller traveled with Jurgento to the distant garrisons, in which he had been carrying urgent orders and services for nearly three years. His co-pilot went to the increase now. He will progress to be commander or a guard-hunter, and if he were very lucky, he will rise to the bridge of the destroyer within fifteen years. Personally to Olaf he was not a shining prospect. Until the end of the service, there was nothing but post boats and raid boats. The only thing to blame was the medical record of the pilot.

The Packet had been hanging at the rendezvous point for two days, waiting for the return of the raider from combat patrolling. The cruiser must come out of hyperspace somewhere in this sector for a scheduled course. The guys who were returning from a separate journey after that meeting with the orderly did not promise anything good. Most likely, the command was necessary to urgently send a ship into the next hole of the industrial sector, in order to intimidate the "gentlemen of fortune" who terrorized the freight. It was the kind of business to guide the third compartment. The Pirates, who were harassing traders, were a very profitable item in the budget of the Empire. The order of combat unit costs a lot of money to restore order in the industrial sector. Incidentally, it was not the Reich marks, and only guaranteed by gold, galactic dinars.[11]11
  The dinar is a main currency unit in modern circulation in nine mostly-Islamic countries, and has historic use in several more.


[Закрыть] Some of whom settled in the pockets of the bosses of the "threesome" as gratitude for the "operational decision" problem. Olaf thought that in a container marked "secret" was the order to start such an operation and a single crystal with the coordinates and a course of assignments.

Scanners of the packet boat busily searched the area, trying to catch even a hint of excitement from space, usually followed by the opening of the gate and the appearance of the ship. The Sector was a virgin. Weak activity of orbital complexes was the only inhabited planet, which did not create any problems for the equipment of the ship. Olaf’s new partner, Lieutenant Eric Malkovich was nestled in the co-pilot's seat and watched the information display on the on-board computer. The boy showed extraordinary zeal and desire in every possible way to please his commanding officer. This was his first flight as an officer. He was a good guy and it was a pity that he had no prospects in the fleet. If Major Muller interfered he would get promoted exclusively by a medical verdict; the career of Eric in the military seemed an illusion. The policy pursued by His Majesty Charles V, in relation to the colonial inhabitants, did not enhance their status in the Empire.

‘Herr Major, let me address you!’

‘We are not at the base; in a campaign is it enough to say "commander."