Tesla’s Will
"All I needed from this world was a road, and it led me invariably onward…"
"…Stepping onto an unknown planet of an alien star world, the Guest from Space – the Earth Man!"
"The North is the North, and human hearts obey strange laws here, which men who have not traveled in distant lands will never understand."
The fabulous season of Siberian summer was coming. The banks of taiga rivers were covered with carpets of flowers. Every morning I looked at the unstructured rows of trees and mentally painted in my fantasies plans for new discoveries. Today, definitely today. I believed this day would come someday. The pages of favorite and dozens of times reread stories of Jack London and Fenimore Cooper will come to life, and I will find myself in the epicenter of severe taiga trials, where the character and indestructible spirit of a brave traveler will be chiseled, a world filled with greatness with its poetry of adventure and salty to the taste truth of life.
During my walks in the thick of trees I noticed mysterious figures, something resembling a man with his "legs" spread out. These were Evenk idols carved from pine or larch. It was believed that if you pass through the cleft between the "legs" of the idol, you would get good luck in hunting and protection from evil spirits.
The ancient teachings of the Tungus kept the belief in man as part of the Cosmos.
The inseparable connection between nature and man became the basis of their spiritual development and allowed them to survive in the harsh conditions of the northern region. Remembering the tradition of hunters, before every outing into the forest, I tried not to miss the wooden statue, and to take a handful of good luck sent to me by nature itself, and then set off on a new route.
I wanted to be a part of this mysterious world, to let its breath pass through me, and to gain the powers of nature and all four of its elements. Picking up bits and pieces of facts and fictions from books I had read, parables I had ever heard, I created my own illusory world, in which the yet unknown hero lived and created.
Since I was a small child, I had heard many mysterious stories of the peoples of Siberia. It seemed to me that this was my key to future travels, and I tried to find out as much as possible from the old residents of our village.
It was a favorite pastime of the old-timers – to tell old legends about nomads of the north and mythical rituals of the tribe in a quiet muffled voice, and then suddenly change the tone of the story and scare us by imitating the voices of animals and wild birds. We children
1980 г. Karaganda, right after the army I met a girl Natalia, with whom we have been together for 40 years already
from all over the neighborhood, screaming and flying away from the men, pushing, laughing, and then coming back to the storyteller and getting a lump of sugar straight into their mouths.
The places where I was born were the most historical, filled not only with pagan mysteries, but also with real scientific sensations. In 1908, thousands of eyewitnesses watched as a dazzling fireball appeared over the taiga, its glow eclipsing the sun. The event concealed an endless series of riddles, which could not be answered by scientists all over the world.
"In 1908, thousands of eyewitnesses witnessed a dazzling fireball emerge over the taiga with its glow…"
A few days ago, I borrowed from my neighbor a book devoted to the most incredible hypotheses about the nature of the origin of the Tunguska meteorite, so that the next day during a walk I could immerse myself in a new portion of dreams.
I walked slowly along the trail, and in my head the voice of a Moscow radio announcer was playing lines from the opening chapter of the book:
"A pillar of flame struck the cloudless sky. An incomparable in strength blow was heard…The blow swept across the Earth and was heard a thousand kilometers away from the place of the catastrophe. An unprecedented hurricane swept across the Earth. At a distance of four hundred kilometers from the explosion site, houses had their roofs blown off, fences fell. Even farther away – the dishes were ringing in the houses, clocks stopped, as in an earthquake….
In Siberia and all over Europe, the nights were as bright as the Leningrad White Nights."
* * *
The majestic taiga shrouded the evening that was slipping away before my eyes in a light haze and gave me a unique feeling of owning the whole world. Youthful maximalism was running high, and the narrow translucent path led further and further into the deepest part of the forest. I knew that if the sun went down, it would be much harder to get home, but my thoughts ran ahead of my worries, and I only quickened my step.
"Three pulses with an interval of 60 seconds", "a monstrous explosion of natural electricity", "the lord of the world", "the Tunguska phenomenon", "the last exhalation of the fire-breathing dragon", – time after time I repeated separate phrases that struck my imagination, trying to calm my pulse and start thinking calmly. Exhausted from the long toss, I dropped my jacket and sprawled as I was on the ground. A red-throated thrush flew overhead and was out of sight in an instant. All living things were preparing for sleep, beginning their musical part in the symphonic orchestra of the Siberian night.
Careless, intoxicated with youthful dreams, I inhaled the odors of the damp earth, dissolving in my mind the formidable image of my mother. "Oh, I'm going to get in trouble," I thought , at times distracted from my thoughts, but suddenly one danger was replaced by another, more formidable one. I looked back sharply at the noise behind me. On the opposite mountain, dry trees crackled with the sound of someone's heavy footsteps.
"A bear!" I thought. The familiar figure walked softly through the dry branches, sniffing the night air with its nose. I had always carried a small penknife, a gift from my father, but today I was well aware that if it happened and the bear reached me, no weapon would save me. My hands grew cold with fear and the approaching tragedy, and I tried to crawl back as quietly as I could, but the cracking of twigs only intensified. Even more frightened, I ran, the knife slipping from my hands. In despair, losing control of what was happening, I jumped up to my full height, and with a scream ran towards the house. But a moment later I lost consciousness and collapsed to the ground.
The first thing I felt when I woke up was warmth. I opened my eyes and immediately saw the glow of a fire burning at my feet and a huge wooden owl perched on a tall pine pole. My curiosity instantly returned to me, and I immediately jumped to my feet and tried to get a closer look at my surroundings. A man in a deer caftan, with a broad leather belt, a hunting knife and a tobacco pouch, came into the light. I had seen such clothes on the cover of a book about Evenks, but I never thought I would meet a Tungus in our forest.
"Still, I got pretty far this time…" my thoughts were frantically racing as I tried to make sense of the situation. I realized that I had been saved and now was in a fairly safe situation. My penknife was lying next to me. I felt calmer at heart, hid it in my pocket and tried to somehow assess the situation around me. I vaguely recalled the story of the shaman's heir. He had been seen from time to time by the inhabitants of our village. But these stories were never really believed, as they were just another hunter's tale. The stranger interrupted my thoughts and held out a pewter mug of hot herbal tea.
Don't be afraid," said my savior, "you need to gain strength. I've been watching you for a long time – what are you looking for deep in the taiga? Why do you walk here alone?
Whether from fear or cold, I could not utter a word, my lips trembled and my hands shook, spilling life-giving drops on the ground. It seemed as if I had no strength left for politeness and sincere gratitude.
Don't be afraid of me. Your people call me Astronomer, and all because I navigate the stars, and like my grandfather, I honor the celestials as the true gods of my people.
I sat down again. I whispered my name. My fear subsided, and I looked at the face of my new acquaintance with interest. It seemed that all the answers to my questions were hidden in those eyes, and I was about to ask them, when the shaman's heir spoke again….
"I've been watching you for a long time. You are greedy for the world, bold in your pursuit of the unknown, and obsessed with your dreams. Your path takes you to places your eyes have yet to see and your brain has yet to realize. It can be dangerous, even if your thoughts are pure."
"You were born on a land of great power. Our taiga is the most ancient temple of nature, it is a system of invisible connections between the living and the inanimate, it is a storehouse of eternal energy of the cosmos, its reflection and conductor. You will be able to coexist quietly in this world, to drink in its juices, so that one day you will hear the bell ringing in Your heart. Be attentive, Your heart will respond and will not give You rest. The passion of change will take over Your thoughts and You will feel a thirst for more space, to push the horizons and to go beyond the familiar world. You will awaken again the fire with which Your thoughts are filled now. The fire given to You by Your ancestors, born in the great land of the Tungus. From birth You have breathed in air filled with charges of natural electricity, exploded with the force of a thousand nuclear bombs ever available to mankind. In the places where your children will see the light, you will find the energy of the earth and put down roots so deep that you will always return again and again, overcoming the most difficult obstacles, no matter how far you are from home. The power of the earth will keep you safe, lighting beacons on your path with guiding stars.
Have you ever wondered what makes inanimate nature come to life? The warmth and light of the sun. Follow the Sun, never take the side of darkness, do not feed yourself illusions, darkness does not exist.
Darkness is the absence of light. Seek the light, there is true truth there, and an undeniable opportunity to take the next step. Remember, Your road will always lead You only forward, trust it. Man is like a float played by the waves of a raging ocean. But if one day You decide to jump above Your head, be sure You will do it. The Man of Peace can do anything.
The voice kept coming and coming, my imagination drew colorful pictures of the future, but my eyes fell asleep, and exhausted from the struggle, I fell into a dead sleep.
* * *
When I woke up, I was afraid to open my eyes for a long time, clamping my eyes tightly shut, trying to rewind what had happened, as if nothing had happened. But suddenly I heard my mother's voice, and the familiar smell of young borscht wafted into my room. In some unknown way, I found myself at home.
"Perhaps the Shaman's heir never existed, and it all howled out as vivid Fantasies, as a plot for one of the stories about the hero and his adventures, and very little about me…"
AFTERLIFE.
Could I say that I remembered this encounter for the rest of my life? On the contrary, my parents didn't quite believe my story, explaining my fantasies with a strong fright. My friends found a good reason to joke about it. At one point I got tired of proving something to everyone, calmed down and again plunged into the fascinating world of a mischievous Soviet boy. The era of space flights was blossoming, and dreams of traveling in outer space, settling new planets, and conquering the Moon became a favorite topic of conversation.
Soon my parents were transferred to another city for work. The penknife was lost in the move. And then I myself began to think that perhaps the shaman's heir had never existed. And it was all like a vivid fantasy, like a plot for one of the stories about the hero and his adventures … and a little bit about me…
Pingback: Earthing. Part I (Chapters I–III) - Байкер Петрухин