“It depends what God is for you,” Bikie responded.
“As someone who knows about technology, I think of God not just from the viewpoint of faith, but through the prism of science too. For me, God first and foremost is justice and conscience. The ultimate justice based on the actions of each man. And from the standpoint of science, God is infinity.”
“I don’t get it. What’s infinity got to do with it?”
“Well look, what’s more potent and universal, infinity of space or time?”
“Can you really compare them?”
“Yes. As being impossible for our awareness to grasp, you can. Both of them are inconceivable to man, and above all, they’re forever. No matter how far you go, no matter how long you live, there’s always something beyond, something still to come.
“So it turns out that time and infinite space are almost identical. Is there anything bigger than infinity? Longer than time? No. But you can say the same thing about God. What could be bigger and mightier than God? Nothing. So God is both infinity and time. Those are his different manifestations. You can’t say that there are lots of gods in infinity.”
“And it turns out that God didn’t create, but he gave us time and space to exist in. They’re a part of himself that he has shared with us.”
“So God is time?”
“Yes, and he is space too. When I was a kid I went to a planetarium for the first time, and I watched an incredible show, a 3D film on the dome of the building about the earth, the solar system, outer space, the galaxy, and the universe. There was loads of interesting stuff in it. And in the end they showed an ordinary man on the screen. The camera started pulling back and the man became a spot compared with a skyscraper, the skyscraper turned into a spot compared to a city, the city - compared to the planet, the planet to the sun.”
“Soon even the sun seemed like a microscopic speck compared with other stars, and in turn they were transformed into specks compared with the other big stars we know nowadays. And so on to infinity. A galaxy is a mere speck compared to the universe. There could be hosts of universes. Because, if it is not that way, then what comes after the universe if you fly an infinite distance away from it? There’ll be other universes and something much bigger. Possibly. The universe is a little piece of one of the atoms that make up the wing of some fantastic insect, sitting on some fantastic flower. And the flower grows…”
“In your imagination,” Bikie joked.
“Let me finish. At the end the screen shrank to a tiny dot and disappeared. They turned the lights on and I was dumbfounded, I didn’t think anything could astound me any more at that moment. My stepfather added something else, ‘Isaac,’ he said, ‘I can see you’ve realized how small we are, that there’s something much bigger, and bigger. But that’s not all, you can go in the opposite direction too with things getting smaller. We’re huge compared with some things, as huge as the universe is compared to us. Just imagine, we consist of molecules, and they consist of atoms, but if we had an immense, mega-powerful magnifying glass, we could enlarge an atom and see what it’s made out of, a host of complicated pieces each consisting of particles that are made up of a huge number of universes, which consist of hosts of galaxies, stars and planets, inhabited by someone or something. And so on to infinity’.”
“Yeah, infinity’s mighty stuff,” Bikie declared. He had listened to the theory of God with genuine interest. “You know, Isaac, they should put you on a stake! I’d even lend them my Zippo lighter to light it.” Just a second ago Bikie was serious too, but now he started hooting with laughter in his usual manner.
“A gaping black hole has just appeared in your karma, and the remains of your clueless brain have started evaporating out through it, Bikie.”
“No problem, it was you who just said that my brain is infinite. And even after it has evaporated almost to a frazzle there’ll still be something left. A handful of thoughts and my last three hundred Spartan soldier thoughts will kick ass on your legion of Persian fantasies.”
“That’s right, a battle of minds. Only be more accurate your last three hundred thoughts will all be about chicks. So your regiment is Spartan women, not Spartan warriors.”
“Please stop fucking with my brain!”
They roared with laughter and cracked jokes, teasing each other although the conversation had supposedly started with a serious subject. God probably invented humor and jovial people especially so that we wouldn’t go gaga trying to understand what comes after the universe or die of boredom.
“Isaac, tell me how does your idea of God and infinity fit together with karma?”
“I don’t know, I haven’t thought about it.”
“Well, I’ll tell you. Karma is your identification number, your coordinates in infinity, God can see you after all in the context of infinity, and you’re totally insubstantial. You’re a tiny piece of space and an empty space.”
Isaac couldn’t tell if Bikie was serious. It could easily be a joke.
After two hours of traveling the van eventually reached Genoa.
“The great Genoese were born in this very city,” thought Isaac, remembering Christopher Columbus. “The man whose curiosity and love of adventure, combined with impudence gave the world the discovery of America and brought gold flooding into the treasury of the Spanish crown causing the deaths of thousands of Indians.”
At first what they saw looked like a fairly run-of-the-mill port and an industrial city but when they reached the historical center everything changed and the city became magnificent. Leaving the van in a car park, the two friends set off to Ferrari square to have a cup of coffee and a light snack. There was plenty worth looking at here.
“Isaac, the spirit of pioneering endeavor dwells in this city,” said Bikie, obviously thinking about the same thing.
“Our goal is different. To find another pioneer. To sniff out his tobacco smell.”
This was the first and last large city on their route. Their mood was excellent, the jokes were as feeble-minded as in the morning and the sun was scorching, forcing them to squint or shut their eyes. Isaac and Bikie were on a high. As for the goal of the journey, it could wait after all, they were not in the army, they did not have precise schedule to go by and were not expected to be stern and serious, with no right to down a couple of beers along the way. So they did. The mug of beer invigorated their philosophical mood.
“Bikie, we have a chance of becoming clairvoyant or terrorists. The world has become cleaner and less aggressive; there are no wars, less crime, a whole heap of achievements. Even the fact that Veggies’ children are stupid doesn’t mean that it cannot be fixed. We now see the world striving towards an ideal utopia. Should we fight that? We’re certain to be regarded as villains. The funniest thing is that a couple of months ago I would have tried to stop a pair of schizos like you and me.”
Bikie was already getting used to his friend’s fits of self-doubt. Unlike Isaac, he had no second thoughts; he was calm as a boa constrictor.
“The world won’t lose the technologies it has already gained from OE and there’s nothing else good left to look forward to. And don’t quail, before we hack in, we’ll weigh everything up one more time. Our goal is to find the professor but we don’t know yet whether we’ll convince him to help us. Now, why don’t you just take a look at those lovelies?”
At that, Bikie strolled rakishly toward two female tourists and introduced himself.
The girls turned out to be Swedish from Stockholm, Stephanie and Carla. They had arrived in the morning on a cruise liner that was leaving for Rome tomorrow. In three days of sailing they had become thoroughly bored and were glad to keep Bikie's and Isaac’s company. They had a great time as Bikie spun tales about the dangerous journey through Africa that the guys had ahead of them, all the way down to Johannesburg, and invited them to look over the van, in which he and Isaac were going to live, sleep and cook as they cut across the dark continent, all the time bewailing the fact that they’d probably
miss European women terribly on the journey.
It wasn’t clear if Stephanie and Carla believed in the African trek, but they went to look at the van. Isaac preferred to leave the van and the free-and-easy socializing entirely to Bikie despite the beer he had drunk and the obvious interest he could feel from Stephanie. Michelle Blanche was firmly stuck in his head… and Vicky too. He definitely wasn’t interested in other girls. Isaac tried to drive away his lustful thoughts of Vicky by recalling memories from their childhood, telling himself that they were friends and virtual brother and sister. “No, a confession of that sort will definitely shock her,” he thought. And the last thing he wanted to do was to unsettle Vicky and drive her away from him. He had to admit that even when he started thinking about her, when thoughts of love came up, he caught himself switching back to Michelle. That was probably for the best.
Isaac went for a stroll through Genoa Old Port. In the meantime, Bikie, without batting an eye, raked both girlfriends up in his arms, promising to tell them about the dangerous hippopotamias well as the cannibalistic customs of some tribes. He began by saying that a male lion usually had several females at once and they made love up to seventeen times a day. The last thing that Isaac heard as he clambered out of the van was the beginning of a story about how girls in Africa often didn’t wear any blouses, preferring the natural look of nakedness.
“The vanquisher of Africa” didn’t bother to call or text Isaac when the girls left, he fell asleep right there in the middle of the van on top of a crumpled sleeping bag. That was how the furious Isaac found Bikie, all alone, after freezing outside until four in the morning. He was forced to go back to the van, even though his friend hadn’t answered any of his calls or texts.
The next morning they boarded a ferry to Sardinia.
“Just look at that view! I wonder how some Monet or Picasso would have painted it.”
“He’d have painted it wonderfully. He’d have painted you yesterday pretty well too. With your pants down in a van littered with all sorts of garbage and beer bottles.”
“No one drove you away yesterday. You went yourself. You have no damn reason to be angry. Why don’t you just look how beautiful this is?”
“I think I’ll postpone the nature for a while and get a couple of hours’ sleep.”
But Isaac couldn't go to sleep, the van was stinking of hangover and in the end he had to join Bikie on the deck.
“Nature is an infinity of masterpieces, and any work of art attempts to create a composition, colors and depth that are equal to nature,” Bikie said with a wink, emphasizing the word “infinity”.
“I wonder,” Isaac ignored his words, “how much creativity Picasso had? Must have been a lot.”
“It would be funny to find out that he was average, while the people who promoted him have a really high one. Now that would be a hoot.”
“Remember the artist who became famous after he became a Veggie? After the fact it turned out that he had had a super load of OE, he was one of the highest rated downloaders. The journalists trumpeted the story about, and people started admiring his paintings. He was immediately declared one of the greatest geniuses of modern times.”
“It have always been that way, people often started idolizing a genius only after he died in misery. Not just painters. It happened with Mozart, who died totally destitute. And since he was writing a Requiem when he became fatally ill, a popular rumor spread that he was writing it for himself. Public Relations, although it wasn’t called PR in those days. If people weren’t so fond of spoofs, who knows, maybe all his brilliant compositions would have sunk into oblivion.”
“Wouldn’t it be great to find out Mozart’s rating?”
“Forget about the dead. We’ve got to worry about the living.”
The fairy danced slightly on the waves of oncoming ship and Isaac felt sick at once.
When they reached Sardinia, Isaac and Bikie went straight to Porto Cervo. The cigar shop was located somewhere in its vicinity. Their stomachs were rumbling and they decided to eat something before putting their plan into action.
They took a table at the veranda of a little restaurant that caught their eye and started discussing once again what the connection between Professor Link and his assistant might be.
The sickly aroma of gossip hung in the air, but the two friends felt that they were obliged to understand the role of the Japanese woman, not out of curiosity, but for the good of the cause, and so they could not avoid the subject.
Everything suggested that the professor was bound to her by more than just sex. She bought his cigars for him, so she could not be just a plain call girl. A lover, friend, assistant? What?”
Isaac suddenly stared, wide-eyed, and his lips stretched out into a broad smile.
“I think that’s her,” he said, jabbing his finger towards a woman walking past nearby, who looked Filipino or Malaysian.
“Oh, sure, the first Asian woman we see will turn out to be the very one we’re looking for! Of course, you’re a flukey bastard Isaac, but not that flukey.”
“What does flukiness have to do with it? It’s just analysis and precise calculation. With your rating you can’t possibly understand me,” Isaac snapped.
“Right, right, definitely. If you multiply the length of the equator by the number of Japanese and divide it by the number of Chinese, take away the square root of ginseng, then you’re bound to get thirteen. If you get bullshit, it means your calculations were fuckin’ bullshit too.”
“Hey, cut the swearing!”
“I’m not swearing even though your calculations make me feel like it.”
“No Bikie, swearing is really the lowest of the low.”
“Stop bitching, you’re just jealous of me.”
“Why, I wonder, would I be jealous of you?”
“You’re jealous of my light-blond locks.”
“What blond locks, you’ve got dark hair.”
“The light-blond locks those pretty little Swedish girls left on my sleeping bag!”
“No, Bikie, I rather feel bad for you, my dear friend!! What sort of pain in the neck do you have to be to make girls’ hair come off?
“No way, they tore it out in that surge of passion I made them feel. But don’t be upset, I promised to be your mentor in handling women. I think that after a couple of years’ intensive training, I’ll let you move on to practicing – tender kisses.”
“You can kiss my ass…tenderly. And record your advice and talk lines for me, the ones that trimmed the Swedish girls’ hair so sweetly. If they lose their hair like that, I’ll just hold the Dictaphone up to my face and use it to shave with.”
Afterwards they walked round the sunny little streets of the town with full stomachs and in an excellent mood.
The superb resort town really lifted their spirits. Every step brought into view hosts of bars, little restaurants, cafes and other pleasant establishments.
Bikie stuck the bandana on his head, slipped on a pair of mirror sunglasses and put on long black shorts. Isaac dressed even more lightly: his entire outfit consisted of a tank top, flip-flops and shorts. There was no shower in the van, but they could walk to the beach and take a dip.
Chapter 17
Having returned to the van, Isaac and Bikie started the engine and drove to the cigar shop. It turned out to be in the outskirts of the town, although previously it had been on an upmarket shopping street. There was an upside to that – unlike in the center, here there were convenient observation sites where they could easily park. The shop window displayed hookahs, wine bottles and all sorts of bits and pieces including a cigar box and a humidor.
Driven by the thrill of the chase, Isaac suggested going in, but Bikie objected.
“How could you be so careless? We obviously don’t fit the part of rich smokers or their couriers.”
“Cool it! Half the store window is filled with cheap garbage. It’s a long time since they sold anything but cigars. Come on.”
Getting into
the shop turned out to be impossible. A note stuck to inside of the glass said that the shop would open in half an hour. How long ago it had been put up was not clear, and the disappointed friends went back to the van. It was stuffy inside so Bikie parked the van under some trees to cool down.
Bikie took out his laptop and fiddled with it, trying to find a Wi-Fi connection. Isaac watched the entrance, waiting for the owner or a shop assistant to show up. Long after the lunch siesta crowds flooded down the street, there was not a soul around, just the baking sunlight and hot asphalt frazzling the air. Bikie started the engine to give it at least a small blast of coolness from the air conditioning. The two friends didn’t feel like talking; you might have thought they have been overcome by holiday-resort lethargy, but they were really trying to focus. It felt like at any moment Link would come to the shop and everything would work out just fine.
Eventually an elderly Italian came up to the store, opened the door and took the note off the glass. Five minutes later the friends were already inside, just an ordinary little shop, nothing remarkable. Bikie asked about the internet, and a secondhand mini-router was unearthed from among the masses of odds and ends on the shelves. While the shop assistant checked to see that it was still working, Isaac pointed out to Bikie a fridge with a glass door, with neat rows of cigars inside, in boxes and loose. Bikie smiled contentedly. The cigars were found, all right – the only thing left was to wait for the buyer.
After they spent several hours in the van and not a single customer entered the shop their excitement evaporated. They noticed a policeman coming in their direction. He walked up to the van, peered inside vigilantly, knocked on the window on the driver’s side, and when Bikie opened it, asked an unambiguous question:
“What are you doing here, boys?”
“We’re tourists,” Bikie replied brightly, keeping his grip on the laptop. “First day on the island. We still haven’t figured out where to stay, so we’re sitting here arguing and looking at the sites of the hotels nearby.”
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