Catharsis, Legend of the Lemurians (6 page)

“So all this will perish... the beauty... art...
architecture... libraries... science... people…” With every word,
it seemed the Pope's voice was deflating, as if someone was slowly
letting the air out of a balloon. “Father Ignatius, I know there
are many sinners, far too many, but…there are good people, too.
Don't they deserve a chance?”

“Everyone deserves a chance. That's why everything
is being weighed thoroughly. Dark times are coming to Earth, Pius.
Global wars…weapons of mass destruction that will turn to ruin
whole cities, countries. Countless millions will die. The risk of
the Earth's annihilation is more real than ever. And with it, the
planet's souls—all of them—will be lost forever.”

“But what if it's a mistake? What if there is hope?”
whispered the Pope, clutching at his heart.

“Yes, there is hope,” Ignatius said significantly.
“The original consensus may still change.”

“But…how?”

“Some of us saw the new Key being born,” replied
Ignatius enigmatically. The young guard couldn’t understand what
this meant, but for some strange reason, the mysterious phrase made
him listen even more intently than before.

“Where? When?”

“It is remote, almost a century from now. Still,
there is a good chance.”

“But that means the disaster can still be averted!”
exclaimed the Pope.

“It all depends on whether those of us who believe
can convince the rest.”

“What can I do?” Pius's voice was hardly
audible.

“Pray and hope…”

“How much time?”

“Till tomorrow.”

“Bless me, Father!” To the Swiss Guard’s shock, the
Pope dropped to his knees in front of a simple monk!

“Peace be with you, my son…peace be with all of the
Earth's children,” pronounced Brother Ignatius, laying his
shriveled, slightly trembling hands on top of Pius's lionesque
head. After that, leaving the overwhelmed Pope in the kneeling
position, he directed his steps toward the door, on the other side
of which the young man hastily resumed the position expected of a
dignified member of the Vatican's Swiss Guard.

The door opened and Ignatius stepped outside, and as
he did, his huge brown eyes looked up. The unusual guest peered
straight into the guard’s soul and the monk knew: the young man had
heard the conversation. For a moment, Ignatius hesitated, but then,
apparently deciding that no harm was done, he proceeded along the
corridor toward the guest quarters. They moved in silence, and the
guard no longer led the monk; now the monk walked purposefully up
front, with the guard following meekly in his footsteps.

“
Grazie, mi figlio
,” Ignatius murmured
distractedly, and with surprising strength tightly shut the heavy
door into his room. The guard knew he was dismissed, but something
inexplicably rooted him to the spot. Despite his best judgment, he
quickly looked around to make sure that the corridor was deserted,
then crouched down in front of the door and peered into the
keyhole.

Inside a modest guest room, Brother Ignatius
disregarded the ascetic-looking bed and the wooden chair in the
corner, and sat with his legs folded straight on the carpet. He
placed his—no longer trembling—hands on his knees palms up and
closed his eyes. Then, to the young man’s astonishment, a golden
glow started emanating out of the monk's body in expanding waves
that enveloped him whole, and he floated upwards off the floor just
as he sat, without opening his eyes or moving a finger.

The guard tried to silence an involuntary gasp by
covering his mouth, but it was too late. Without changing position,
Ignatius opened one eye. The next thing the young guard knew, that
eye was staring from the other side of the keyhole straight into
his. Another moment later, some kind of invisible force pushed him
away from the door and he landed on the floor, hitting his head on
the opposite wall. Mad with pain, shame, and confusion, he jumped
to his feet and sprinted away from the guest room door as quickly
as his feet would carry him, bump on the back of his head
throbbing, ears burning, and a pledge forming in his head to never,
ever again succumb to a terrible sin of frivolous curiosity!

Brother Ignatius shook his head with a small smile
and re-closed his eye. The glow around him intensified, and as the
boundaries of the guest room dissolved into nothingness, eight
vibrating golden rays extended in different directions from his
body. At the end of each ray, wrapped in the same golden glow,
appeared eight different figures, each sitting in the same lotus
pose, and each emanating eight golden rays of their own, connecting
all nine figures together in one intricate network. The rays kept
expanding until all nine floating figures were completely covered
in a shimmering golden cocoon.

“Good day to all,” said a deep voice belonging to a
tall, wise-eyed man dressed in a roomy Russian peasant shirt.

“Good day, Lev,” responded several voices.

“The final emergency session of the Earth's Council
is open. All nine Earth Keepers are present,” continued Lev.
“Nikola… Deva… Isabella… Usaama… Ignatius…Tengis… John… Ling… and
Lev. It is our duty to make the ultimate decision about the fate of
this human civilization.” Lev gazed at each member of the Council.
“I remind everyone what’s at stake and trust that all of you were
able to carefully weigh your decision. The last vote stands thus:
three—for letting this civilization continue despite all the
horrors we foresee ahead, six—for letting the Comet of Karma do its
job. The new vote and final debate start now.
Pro
or
con
?”

“I also saw the Key,” announced Ling, the Keeper of
China and East Asia. “However, I disagree with Lev and Ignatius.
The Key to be born is male, not female, and he will be Chinese, not
Russian. Yet I do agree, there is hope. I have changed my vote to
pro
.”

“But the evidence is conflicting and inconclusive,”
chimed in Nikola, the Keeper of North America. “We all saw the same
thing: world wars, cruelty and destruction brought on by new
technology and man's arrogance. Yet only a few saw a sign of hope.
My vote remains
con
.”

“I agree with Nikola,” said John, the Keeper of
Australia, Oceania and Antarctic. “It is too dangerous to let it go
on. This civilization has failed to demonstrate good judgment in
situations of conflict. I still vote
con
.”

“If we let this civilization go on,” said Deva, the
Keeper of India and the Middle East, “I fear we’ll lose all of the
human souls on planet Earth.”

“True,” agreed Usaama, the Keeper of Africa. “We
have to let the Comet do its job. Besides, the Key may be too late.
After all, one hundred years is a long time. I am
against
protecting this civilization.”

“But you are forgetting,” interjected Ignatius, the
Keeper of Europe, “that the Key can only be born if there is enough
goodness left in mankind! My vote remains
pro
.”

“Why wouldn't it appear now, then,” objected Deva,
“why in a hundred years? Remember Buddha? Remember Jesus? They
appeared and unlocked human potential during the time of great
need. This is different. My vote is
con
.”

“Some of us think,” said Lev, the Supreme Keeper of
the Earth, “that what is to happen in the twentieth century is only
the prelude to the disasters and possibilities of the twenty-first.
That's when the Key will be truly needed. My vote is
pro
!”

“All of you are correct,” said Tengis, a small
Asian-looking man with white beard, the Keeper of Russia and the
Arctic. “Humanity's record speaks loudly against it. And if it is
bad now, what will happen after they've perfected the existing
relatively crude weapons, and figured out how to make nuclear ones?
We
are
running an extremely high risk of the ultimate
self-destruction of all Earth's souls—that’s true, too. But the
prophecy is clear: the Key will be born, and that can only happen
when all is not lost. And as to whether it will be a male or a
female, Russian or Chinese…” Tengis eyes acquired a far away look,
“it will be both.”

“What do you mean? How can it be both?” exclaimed
several voices at once.

“This particular Key is unlike any before it. It’s
dual—both male and female, yin and yang, receptive and assertive.
And it's bound to unlock a new and most exciting era for humanity,
more important than any prior…if the Council,” Tengis's thoughtful
eyes probed each Keeper in turn, “allows it to be born. I vote
pro
.”

“So far we have a tie—four pro and four con. Dona
Isabella…your final word?” Lev's wise voice addressed the
olive-skinned shamaness wrapped in a warm poncho. The ancient
woman, who was the Keeper of South America, puffed her pipe,
silently absorbing the exchange.

“Yes, I also see the dual Key being born,” she
started slowly. “And I too foresee this Key being able to open a
new era for humans. Yet…great horrors lie ahead, born of mankind’s
greed and aggression. And our final responsibility is to carefully
weigh all the risks.”

“It all comes down to your vote, Dona Isabella,”
said Ignatius quietly, while the rest of the Keepers held their
breath.

“My final decision,” pronounced Dona Isabella with
great reluctance, as if the weight of the entire world made it hard
for her to move her tongue, “…is
against
protecting this
civilization.”

No one moved a muscle, absorbing the finality of the
moment, and only the golden cocoon around the Keepers kept
pulsating and shimmering in the absolute silence.

“So be it,” said Lev's voice sadly.
“Four—
pro
, five—
con
. I, Lev Tolstoy, the Earth’s
Supreme Keeper, hereby declare that the Council of the Earth
Keepers agrees not to interfere when the Comet of Karma collides
with the Earth, so this civilization would reap the consequences of
its past, present and future actions.”

As Lev finished speaking, all Keepers inclined their
heads in agreement—some solemnly, some reluctantly, some sadly—and
closed their eyes in a deep, silent meditation. As they did, the
golden cocoon around them started expanding upwards, higher and
higher, until a column of brilliant light broke through the Earth's
atmosphere and reached straight into Outer Space.

There it was, a rugged rectangular piece of icy
rock, about twelve kilometers across, smaller than the size of the
island of Manhattan. The haloed comet resolutely cut through space,
looking quite meager next to the major planets it passed one by
one: Neptune…Uranus…Saturn…Jupiter… It didn't look impressive even
next to a relatively small planet of this solar system called
Earth, the only one with fully developed flora and fauna, the only
one populated by a thriving human civilization.

Although the icy rock appeared insignificant and
completely innocuous, the Keepers knew: if it crashed into the
Earth at its current speed, it would end all life on this little
planet. For a moment, the rock hesitated, as if feeling an
irresistible pull to the Sun, as if unsure that it should continue
to its original destination. But then, something else caught its
attention, and it became clear just where the comet was really
heading. It was heading toward the Earth, aiming into the very
heart of Europe, somewhere between southern Germany and
Austria...

Chapter 2

2011, Lake Baikal, Russia

Sasha Elfimova could hardly be called a normal
teenager. She always preferred the serene majesty of Lake Baikal in
southeastern Siberia to the hustle and bustle of Moscow. What’s
more, she had powers—incomprehensible and scary powers. She was a
Time and Mind Shifter, yet even her mentor, the famous Siberian
shaman Tengis, didn’t know how far her powers would develop when
the time came…

Sasha dipped her hand in the crystal-clear waters of
Lake Baikal, now gleaming seductively in the light of the full
moon, and smiled at her companions: the old shaman Tengis and her
father, the Moscow University professor of linguistics, Maxim
Elfimov. They were camping out near the lake’s shore, in their
secret spot, just an eight-kilometer hike from Polyanka, Tengis’s
native village.

Earlier today, after some hiking in taiga, they
performed a shamanic ritual at Tengis's sacred site, called the
Shaman Rock. After that, as golden rays of the warm summer sun
started giving way to the coolness of the silvery moon, they
decided to camp out in the Bay of the Seals on Baikal’s majestic
shore. The seals enjoyed sunning on the gleaming rocks that wrapped
the hidden bay. Sasha had just finished having a chat with her
favorite local inhabitant, Filya the Seal.

“Good catch today,” Filya informed her
telepathically, languorously exposing his shining wet body to the
sun’s fading rays. “You've got to dive very deep into the sea to
get the best fish. If you want, Sasha, I can bring you some next
time,” he offered, looking at her adoringly with that cute,
cat-like face of his. As the last ray of the waning sun pierced the
water, Filya dove back into the lake, undoubtedly to find a nice,
cozy spot in which to slumber.

The sea… Just like local humans, Filya regarded Lake
Baikal as the sea. Perhaps it was part of his genetic memory. The
endemic population of seals in the land-locked Baikal was an
enigma, one of the many mysteries of this place. The scientists
postulated that seals probably swam from the ocean during the Ice
Age and stayed here. Kind of like American Indians, indigenous
Siberians, who in the long by-gone era had walked across the narrow
sleeve of frozen water between the two continents, the one we now
call the Bering Strait and subsequently made their home in the vast
lands now called the Americas.

It was getting chilly. This was Siberia; you could
get a terrific summer tan in these parts during the day, but the
chill of the night reminded you forcefully where you really were.
Shivering, Sasha pulled a warm sweater out of her favorite backpack
and put it on. The supple black leather backpack was a sixteenth
birthday gift from her father, which he brought from his Italian
trip, and the sweater was of her very own design and execution,
artfully knitted with chunky yarns of the sunniest shades of sky
blue—to match her eyes.