Kobinski didn’t even look at him.
“For the love of God! Listen, I’m glad to have found you. God has His reasons, and I suppose He sent me here for this very purpose, but we must go back at once. I don’t belong here, and neither do you!”
Kobinski laughed. “For the love of God? You’re in the wrong place for that, my friend.”
Aharon pressed his lips, growing more irritated at this man, who was not responding as he should to anything Aharon said.
“What do you think?” Kobinski asked, almost sneering. “Do you think it’s some kind of magic door that will take you back home? Something out of a fairy tale?”
“Listen—”
“What do you imagine would happen if you found that spot again? If you stood in just the right place and waited?”
“I would return to Earth, naturally!”
“Naturally? Let me tell you what nature dictates: you would stay right here. At best you might get dizzy for a moment, then find your feet planted back on the very same ground on which you were standing.”
Aharon scowled at him. “What are you talking?”
“You came here because this is exactly where you belong.”
“What are you saying?” Aharon whispered, angry now. “That thing—that clearing near the camp. It came directly here.”
Kobinski motioned a hand dismissively, his face bored. “Why should I bother? Men like you never understand. I can see it in your dress, in your eyes. I can hear it in your voice. Israel! You have the nerve to complain to me about secularism? About the younger generation? Do you have any idea how ridiculous that is in this reality, in this place?”
Kobinski pushed hard on the arms of the chair and rose from his seat with a great groan of pain. He stood at his chair resting, hand propped against the back of it.
“Let me tell you about this world. These people, the Fiore, they believe… it is their religious conviction that they are the feces of God. Can you fathom that? Can you fathom their self-loathing? It’s the only way they can explain why life is so relentlessly cruel. They eat each other because this planet provides almost nothing to sustain them. And you—making it a life-and-death issue to eat or not eat pork! You make me sick.” Kobinski growled deep in his throat and spit on the floor. He had taken up some of the native gestures and facial expressions and Aharon was deeply offended.
Who was this man? Surely not Yosef Kobinski, the gentle tzaddik Aharon had seen in a photograph, the saintly martyred rebbe who faced down the Nazis! Aharon didn’t care what the natives here believed or didn’t believe—they were animals. If this place was terrible, then they must deserve it. But he did care about getting home.
Aharon made an expression of surrender. “Listen, you’re right; I shouldn’t complain. We have it good compared to this place, obviously. But tell me—what does that have to do with my not getting home?”
Kobinski gave him a brittle smile. “Let me tell you where you are, because it is better that you suffer no illusions. You have met your destiny a little early is all, Aharon Handalman. This is the place where you would have come upon your death. This is your judgment.”
Aharon stared at him, too shocked to even be offended. “Why would I belong here? You don’t even make sense!”
“You went through a hole in space-time that took you into the fifth dimension. Or rather, it detached your energy from the lower dimensions of space and time, the physical dimensions. It was detached only for a fraction of a second, but in that fraction of a second your energy, your ‘soul,’ if you will, went to the place in the fifth dimension most like you. Because the fifth dimension is outside of space and time, do you understand? In the fifth dimension, there is no ‘here’ and ‘over there’; there’s only one way data is organized, like to like. That is the law. After you went through the hole, your energy was reattached to the physical dimensions. But when it was reattached, you were linked to the physical location closest to where your soul had gone in the continuum. And the place where it linked you was here.”
Aharon’s mouth was hanging open. “You’re crazy!”
Kobinski growled. “This world is gevorah-chochmah. This is its physical reality. It is the embodiment of you, Rabbi Handalman. So you see, it’s not such an easy matter, ‘going home.’ You are home.”
Aharon was furious. He had never been so angry before in his life. He didn’t believe a word, of course, but that this person, whom he had never wronged, should utter such filthy lies and blasphemy!
“Then why are you here? Eh?” he demanded. “Reb Kobinski? If that hole does not come directly here, then what about you?”
Kobinski’s face went so blank it was as if he had put back on the mask. “I? I chose it.”
“You are evil to say such things!”
Kobinski shrugged, more an expression than a gesture. “Think what you like. But as for how you act—that is another thing. Your behavior endangers me as well as yourself. One of the Fiore, Argeh, he is my enemy. He is also high priest. He would be eating you this night for supper if I hadn’t intervened.”
Aharon knew of whom he spoke—the Fiore with the flattened face, the one in the square black cassock who had been arguing with Kobinski in that room. “But who do these…” he almost said “people,” “who do these animals think you are? I am? What did you tell them?”
Kobinski closed his eyes, as if he didn’t want to talk about it. “This place is governed by superstition and fear. I told them I came from the heavens and they believed me. I am a messenger from Mahava, their god. Today I told them you were also sent from the heavens, as a messenger for me. To bring me, as it turns out, my manuscript.” Kobinski said this last with irony.
“You told them that?”
“Would you rather be roasting over a fire?”
“But… what am I supposed to do? What can I say? How can this go on?”
“The first thing you must do is build up your strength so that you can move in this atmosphere. Right now you’re completely vulnerable. In front of the Fiori, you must appear calm and assured. If you’re hysterical, if you show fear, it will go badly for us. As for what to say, the only one who can understand your Hebrew is my servant, Tevach. Say as little to him as possible.”
Kobinski eyed him appraisingly. “You’re fat. I was starved when I arrived. If I adjusted, so can you. You must eat the food. It is vile, but it will build muscle. You need a great deal of muscle to move in this atmosphere. And remember: if you do not play your role convincingly, you will die. If they don’t kill you, I will. I won’t let you endanger me. Be warned.”
Aharon could only stare, unable to believe Kobinski would treat him in such a way and still in shock, also, about Kobinski’s lies. The man called loudly for Tevach. The rodent-faced creature scurried into the room, and Kobinski leaned his weight on the creature’s broad shoulders.
“You’re going?” Aharon asked. “Wait. Let’s forget all this… all this craziness for an instant. There’s something else.”
“I can’t help you.”
“No, listen. There’s this whole thing I have to tell you about a weapon. Your manuscript. I… Parts of it have fallen into the wrong hands. That’s why I’m…”
He was going to say that’s why he was here, but it wasn’t, and at this point he wasn’t sure he would have come willingly to such a place even if he’d known he’d find Kobinski. The man was watching him, his face registering something other than disdain for the first time. He looked alarmed. He turned his face away.