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Now I’m recovering from the moment and my energy is returning. I know Tietsin is right: I have to get away from the stupa. Its great, looming, sepulchral whiteness is too much, and when I look at it I start to feel ill all over again. With no doubt in my heart this time, I have a cab drive me to the Thai Airways offices on Durber Marg, where I book myself on the next plane to Bangkok.

When I land at Suvarnabhum Airport, it is about six in the evening. I have no luggage to collect, so I grab a taxi and I sit in the back with my eyes closed, exhausted. When I reach home, I remember to switch my phone back on just before crashing.

30

A tiny voice makes insect noises in the depths of my cell phone’s miniature speaker, after shattering my fragile sleep with “All Along the Watchtower”: “So, how’s it going? Feeling better?”

I hold the phone closer to my ear. He’s not using his UN accent tonight: it’s straight New York with a touch of Brooklyn that penetrates the blackness.

“D’you know what time it is?”

“Sure. For you it’s four o’clock in the morning, for me it’s two hours earlier than that, but I don’t sleep much. Four o’clock is when all good monks get up to start their daily practice.”

“I’m not a monk.”

“Who are you kidding?”

I let a beat pass. “My son died. I didn’t tell you. I thought you’d see it, you being enlightened and all. I was testing you. He was killed in an accident. You didn’t know, did you?”

We hang in silence for a moment. “No, I’m sorry. Very sorry. I didn’t know.”

“But you knew I was going to be hit by something devastating. You said so.”

“The spirit is always devastating on its first visit. When you insisted on the initiation, I knew you were going to take a hit. Same as me. I didn’t invent dharma. You have Western blood, you wanted the karma of ten thousand lifetimes all rolled up into one hit so you can take the fast track to enlightenment and get the gold medal before anyone else. Well…” He sighs. “But I’m still sorry. There is no worse feeling than the first time you get whacked, no matter what any of the old hands tell you. I’m just glad it’s you and not me-and you’ll feel the same, one day.”

“Thanks.” I decide to change the subject. “We’re having a little problem here, a girl, an Englishwoman in her late twenties, a mule named Mary Smith-somebody busted her. She has a Nepali visa in her passport. D’you know who busted her?”

“Sure, General Zinna. You know that.”

“I mean, who busted her to Zinna?”

“I did.”

The unadorned confession leaves me speechless for a moment. “Are you crazy? D’you know what Vikorn is going to do when he finds out? It’s my duty to tell him.”

“So tell him. I don’t mind. In fact, I insist. I don’t want you trying to make me responsible for your failure of duty.”

“But I thought you had a deal with him-with us. D’you think he’s still going to deal with you after this?”

“I’m sure of it. In fact, he’ll want to deal even more.”

I’m lost. All I can think of to say for the moment is, “Why?”

“Vikorn doesn’t have the money. He told me. I need forty, and the most he can raise on short notice is twenty.”

The full implications of this take a while to dawn on me. “You’re trying to muscle him? Look, one: he doesn’t muscle easy, in fact he doesn’t muscle at all, and two: he really can’t raise that much in a week. He just can’t do it.”

“I know that.”

“So?”

“His chum, General Zinna, he’s in the same boat.”

I’m so aghast I can hardly speak. I’m also disillusioned: Tietsin is coming across as a dangerous amateur. “You went to Zinna when you already had a deal with us?” I pause to allow myself a cooling inhalation. “Look, you may be a great guru or yogin or whatever, but that’s one big no-no. Over here, I’m sorry to have to say, that’s dumber than dumb. You have just screwed the whole thing up. Maybe you should look somewhere else for a deal, how about Amsterdam, or somewhere not less than five thousand miles away?”

“No. I like you. I’m sticking with you. I told you, Tibetans are a naturally loyal people. We don’t give up on someone we take to-not in one lifetime anyway. I might have gone off you before the Maitreya Buddha arrives, but there’s plenty of time.”

“How can you be so cocky?”

“It’s not cocky. Think about it. Think out loud for me.”

“Okay, I’m thinking out loud. I’m thinking that you have double-crossed the most powerful drug lord in Thailand, after having first busted that Australian mule who was working for the second-most powerful drug lord in Thailand. That’s two very big enemies and no friends except me, and from a business perspective I’m also starting to have my doubts. Maybe you should stick to teaching enlightenment through voluntary psychosis.”

He has the audacity to sigh, as if I’m a slow learner. “You’re too Western in your outlook. It’s too black-and-white. People are driven by psychology. What does Buddhism tell us about that? What are the three motivations of ordinary men?”

“Fear, lust, and aggression.”

“Right. Why was your Colonel so keen to deal with me?”

“Because what you’re offering is so big he’ll be able to annihilate Zinna. Aggression.”

“And what would be the reason why General Zinna might see me as a gift from heaven?”

“Okay, so he can get big enough to annihilate Vikorn, but-”

“Stop, you’re too stuck in the here and now. Make the blade wheel work for you. It doesn’t have to be a full-blown internal workout every time, you can calibrate it a bit. Take a full minute to let it enter your mind, let it rise up from the subconscious, where you have carefully buried it.”

I close my eyes and relax. Damn him, it starts to work. But I still don’t understand how he’s going to get away with alienating his main business partner.

“So,” he says, “how far have we got?”

“Well, like I just said, it’s all about fear, lust, and aggression. You don’t have to be Buddhist to know that.”

“And what happens when aggression collapses, as it inevitably does?”

“You start again with fear. It’s the vicious circle in the middle of the mandala: snake, pig, and eagle, usually.”

“And what would Vikorn fear most in these circumstances?”

“Easy. That he might get annihilated by Zinna.”

“Right. And what does Zinna fear most?”

My eyes start to open. I’m stammering at his audacity when I say, “You’re, you’re, you’re playing them off against each other? But how-?”

“When I spoke to Zinna he said the same thing as Vikorn. He can only get twenty at short notice. That’s when I knew the dharma was on my side. Two and two make four, right?”

I gasp. “You really think you can get them to work together? Form a partnership to raise forty million?”

Another of those intimidating sighs. “You just told me they will. Fear: what choice do they have?”

Still gasping: “Each one has to be in because the other is in? You’re amazing. But I don’t think you’ll get away with it. They’ll kill each other first. Assuming they can’t get to Kathmandu to kill you.”

He pauses to let the darkness speak, then: “Hmm, you may be right. I don’t like to be complacent. That’s why I’ve got you.”

“I only work for Vikorn; I don’t work for Zinna.”

“You are a peacetime consigliere-after you left I watched the DVDs. I thought Brando was terrific, as was Pacino, and you are a perfect Hagen. So, do peace. After all, you’re only trying to make your boss richer.”

I’m exploring my left ear with my left pinkie. “I still don’t get why you had to bust the English girl.”

“It wasn’t my idea. Zinna insisted. He had to start on an even footing, he said, and I’d already busted one of his. The trouble is, he’s psychotic, and with psychotics you have to accept there’s a wall in them they can’t get around. He can’t get around his jealousy of your boss. Vikorn has a better mind, and he’s not psychotic.”