“Wait, stop!” He shouted. Miguel and the controller were standing next to him pouring buckets of freezing water over him. “What are you idiots doing.” He lifted his arms trying to shield his face from the flow of ice cold water.
The controller nodded to Miguel “Two more.” Miguel shrugged. “Vale.”
“No stop!”
“It took too long to bring him back. I want him all the way here.” The controller pinched his arm hard. They each poured a large full bucket of ice cold water over his head.
Leskov felt himself fully awake and angry. “I will beat you both down if you do not stop this instant!”
“This is good.” the controller smiled.
“I like it when you are angry. Some passion” Miguel lifted his fist up and shook it with a serious intensity and then a charming smile.
“Grab the blankets, quickly” the controller commanded Miguel.
“What, I’m your slave, you can’t grab them yourself.” There was a large stack of thick ponchos being warmed above a wood stove. They each grabbed an arm full, brought them over and started to cover him in them, first draping them over his shoulders and head, and then wrapping them firmly around his waist and arms. It felt wonderfully relaxing. “Quick, bring over the table.” Miguel rolled the small metal desk with pen and paper over to Leskov.
“Write down everything you can remember. Start with what will help us in the cause. Leave the personal things for later. It seems like it will all stay clear but the detail start to fade. There is water and some fruit if you need to eat, but don’t allow yourself to get distracted. We will leave you alone.”
Later that evening they sat passing mate around, sipping from a silver bombilla. This was the one part of Argentine way of life that had entered him deeply, shoved it’s way into his heart and displaced a bit of the old country. He drank the bitter tea night and day whenever they had a supply.
“The work they are doing up there. Is it real?”
“We know it’s real in a sense. First of all I don’t know what you saw up there.” Leskov opened his mouth to speak. “I really don’t care. Whatever it is it would sound crazy to me. It seems to be one of the rules. No matter what you experience at that level, the more real it is to you, the more it will seem crazy to other people. I don’t know why we aren’t able to speak about it on this level, here on earth, but we can't. We needed to confirm if it was real so we have been sent pairs and groups of three, people who had never met, never did meet, we just gave them a simple task and told them to meet up with their partners in the ethers. They reported the exact same things the same thing down to minute details.”
“So it’s consistent, it seemed like it was all, everthing that was happening up there was directed down here towards us.?”
“We seem to be the main show in town. I kind of makes sense, this is where things happen.
“Does what happens up there effects things down here”
“It does, but not in any clear cut or obvious ways. It expresses itself in mood and coincidence. Life starts to line up differently. The only guarantee is that it never takes the expected or desired form. You can’t plan for the effects at all. Even if up there you do something that you think will clearly make things better it can become become a nightmare. Then, in a moment everything turns around for the best.”
“So how does it affect things?
“Luck.”
“What?”
“It changes your luck.”
“What are you talking about?”
“We have measured it. But now with you we have something different, something real, something we can touch.”
“I have so much work to do. You can't even imagine. It may change the tide. We will see”
Chapter 35
The Arendt Files Page 34