“And many agree with you,” Luc said. “I would never ask anyone to act against his vows. But I need to know if you would prevent others from acting in ways that you would not? What if they believed that killing to protect the oracle was the right choice? Would you stop them?”
“That question should be easy to answer. Life must take precedence over all other considerations.” Dzu paused. “Even if the oracle was threatened, killing to preserve it is wrong.”
“As wrong as those who may kill to destroy it?”
“Are there degrees to that kind of sin? I don’t know, perhaps. This is a matter I have never contemplated.”
Luc took on a sincere look of sympathy. “It is something I have not stopped thinking about for some time now.” It was a struggle to keep from smirking. He had so twisted logic that he now had the monks thinking about committing murder. “Here is something else for your consideration, something that has occurred to me over time. For one hundred fifty years the Order has had within its power the ability to save countless lives by warning those about to die and yet we did not. By rights those deaths should be on our collective consciences. Is not a lie of omission still a lie? Why then would the deaths of those who come to harm us be more wrong?”
His question was met by silence.
Finally Dzu spoke. “In some ways I hear the voice of our Lama in you, Luc. He stood in this very room when he proposed that the Order heal earth’s chi. He was very convincing and after a short debate we agreed to his plan, although some secretly believed it was a mistake. How do we know that your intentions aren’t also a mistake?”
“You must all agree that passivity is not an option. No matter what we do, the Order is forever changed.”
“I see that, yes.”
“If we do not defend ourselves when they come for us, we will cease to exist. The oracle will be destroyed.”
“So you say.”
“All I am asking is for you to consider that we are worth saving, that we should survive and emerge whole after the eruption.” He turned his attention to the elder monk. “Brother, would you not prevent a man from beating the snake that bit him.”
“Yes, I would.”
“That is all that I ask. I do not blame those of you who wouldn’t protect the snake, but I ask you not to stop those that would.”
The door at the back of the temple room creaked open on its iron hinges. A gust of fresh air swirled in, diluting the cloying smell of the joss sticks. Donny Randall wouldn’t enter the chamber but just his presence at the threshold interrupted the meeting.
“I believe Mr. Randall is here to tell me everything is ready for my trip back to Nepal.” Luc smiled at the assemblage. “Were it that I could stay and pray with you for our Lama’s recovery and for guidance in these troubled times.”
“We shall pray for your speedy return to us, Luc.” Dzu got to his feet and embraced him. “You do the Order proud and while I don’t agree with some of what you said, I know your heart is good and your thoughts pure.”
“Bless you,” Luc replied and hugged the older man more fiercely.
He crossed the carpeted floor and joined Donny. Together they strode down the hallway away from the temple and the reek of incense that burned Luc’s eyes.
“How did it go?” Donny asked.
“Better than I expected.” Luc snickered. “The old men are so confused they don’t know what to do. Even Dzu is looking for someone to lead them.”
“They’ll make you Lama when old toothless kicks the bucket?”
“Without a doubt.”
“And then?”
“And then things get run my way. With the United States and Western Europe in disarray, the world’s balance of power will immediately shift to China, Japan and the nations of the Pacific. It will take a year, maybe two, before the world economy has adjusted to the fact that most of its biggest consumers are dead. By then people will have realized that the great cities that were destroyed were little more than black holes that absorbed everything and produced only more mouths to feed.
“The planet’s natural resources like coal, grain, timber and oil will not be affected, only their means of distribution, and those can be rerouted. Take away New York as a financial capital and a new one will emerge in Australia. Scour away the beaches of Miami and people will vacation someplace else. Adaptation is perhaps mankind’s greatest skill. The eruption will force humanity to realize the suicidal path they were on and buy enough time to correct it.”
“Where does that leave us? The Order, I mean.”
“Interestingly, it is the nations of the Pacific basin that will be least affected by the eruption, yet they remain the most vulnerable to earthquakes and volcanoes. We will be in position to warn them about impending catastrophes.”
“For a price?” Donny asked.
“For a price,” Luc agreed.
Where Randall saw storehouses of gold, Luc saw power, raw unadulterated power of a kind not held since the Roman Caesars. Nations would give him anything to protect themselves and perhaps even more to not warn their enemies. How much was it worth to the Saudi government to know that a major earthquake was going to strike Iran on a certain date and disrupt their oil shipments for weeks or months? How much would the Japanese pay to have enough warning to evacuate Yokohama when an undersea slide sends a tsunami washing over the port? That kind of knowledge was worth something beyond mere money.
After just one or two demonstrations Luc was certain he’d be given virtual control of the world.
ARLINGTON, VIRGINIA
Paul “Tiny” Gordon backed out of the ladies’ room brandishing a plunger and cursing the antique plumbing. He flipped the sign on the door so it read OUT OF ORDER. Not that it mattered. Sundays were notoriously slow and even on a busy night his bar catered to an almost exclusively male clientele. The few women who did venture in weren’t the type to be deterred by using the men’s lavatory.
Nursing a vodka gimlet at the bar, Mercer smiled good-naturedly. “The laundry joint again?”
Tiny’s was part of a run-down strip mall anchored by an industrial laundry facility. On a regular basis, the toilets belched thick curds of detergent foam.
Tiny tossed the plunger into the back room and stepped onto the platform behind the bar that allowed him to look his seated customers in the eye. “Damn landlord won’t do anything about it and the last time I talked to the owner of the laundry he told me that the detergent’s keeping the lines clear and I shouldn’t complain.”
“The joys of running a business.” Mercer checked his watch. It was past four in the afternoon. Lasko was running late.
The front door opened. In the reflection of the mirror behind the bar, Mercer saw Harry unclip Drag’s leash. The pooch and his master ambled into the bar, the basset making for a pile of blankets Tiny kept for him in a corner and Harry for the bar stool Tiny kept for him to Mercer’s right. Tiny had mixed a Jack Daniel’s and ginger ale by the time Harry eased into his seat.
“Where were you last night?” For the first time in a week, Harry hadn’t slept at Mercer’s. “You didn’t come by.”
Harry shot him a lecherous smirk. “I came someplace else.”
Mercer and Tiny groaned.
“What brings you here so early?” Harry asked.
“Ira wanted to meet and I needed to get out.”
“Think they found Tisa?”
“That’s my hope.”
“And you’re going to go get her.”
Mercer sipped at his drink. “That’s my plan.”
Harry looked to Tiny. “The charming prince storming the castle to rescue the fair damsel? Is his life a cliché or what?”
“You gotta wonder what that makes us.”
Mercer indicated his glass. “Obviously you’re the alchemist who concocts the healing potions that keep me going.”