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?