بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم
Book 7. New York
Do what you can.
Don’t give yourself any slack.
And rely on Allah, only He can…
雪
Continuation entry
Allah has long ago divided the portions among His servants. Don’t look at what others have. And don’t compete with them. Especially if you have already chosen Him…
There are many philosophies of life. And they are all wrong. What’s right is what He wants. And so it will be. The beast is busy embodying it. Although it does not need to be embodied. For there can be nothing else.
Book 7. NEW YORK
Chapter 133. Moving
The beast remained alone. As he was alone. The people didn’t need him. They were busy minding their own business.
The beast was needed by Allah and the Prophet for some unknown reason. Or rather, no reason. Because Allah Himself wanted it. And that was enough.
- Gaspar’s dangerous games, but the beast forgave him
Gaspar was unbelievable. So he thought. Though there was no particular complaint about him: he was at the head of the most powerful organization in the world today. There are many of them, I suppose. In the minds of the leaders of these entities. But, nevertheless, Gaspar was the only one. And he had no equal.
He led the shard from the horror of years past, managed to preserve and multiply what Mac had powerfully pushed forward before him-a figure of darkness and grandeur, a specialist in his field who held all the strings and skillfully managed everything. Somewhere from behind the scenes, somewhere as an entertainer. Mac was afraid of death, very afraid of it. The beast noticed it at once. In the end, Mac died without ever crossing paths with the beast. Or the beast didn’t tell me anything yet. He had a way of talking afterwards. Apparently, the beast thinks I’m a fool, smiley.
Gaspar inherited this empire of invisible (and wanting to remain so) unimaginable power not immediately.
Sonny’s emergence must have been planned or sanctioned at one time by Mac, who kept this greedy upstart, insatiable and stupid, as a puppet. Doing it, for a diversion, on a slightly different plane, by keeping Sonny out of the resources of this organization directly. In the end, Gaspar’s progress toward what he thought was infinite ledger was no longer about Mac, deceased at the time, but about the restless Sonny. Who soon managed to screw up his relationship with the beast and suffer from it as much as possible. So much so, in fact, that death seemed sweet to him, because of his misunderstanding of the essence of leaving the mortal world and going to the eternal world.
As a result, Sonny went mad with grief, gave up visually immensely, and made a real fuss. Losing all his fortune and influence, dragging his entire entourage down with him. Their business was very bad. There was not a single loophole.
But Gaspar managed to find one. By finding the beast.
As a northerner, Gaspar posed as a southerner, which was not new to Eighth Mountain. The dispute between the two groups went back to ancient times and divided everything into adherents and opponents. The beast belonged to the roadmen, and had little interest in the empty battles in the north and south directions. I cared little for both camps, well settled in this world, who had traded truth for holes in a bagel. Yes, they each had their own hole in the bagel. And I wasn’t interested. Neither were the southerners and northerners, which de jure and de facto included Gaspar himself.
And yet he chose the beast as his shield. A shield in eternal peace. That’s what surprised me.
No, Gaspar also wanted protection in the mortal world. Which was commonplace in the practice of the beast. But no one else among these spinners, from the heavyweights to the lowliest and most petty, had asked to harness the beast before Allah on the Day of Resurrection. No one. And not once. Gaspar was the first.
Apparently at Shcherbina’s suggestion.
Shcherbina knew the beast well. Knew it as well as an outsider could. Knew it in detail and in detail. I, in a sinful way, thought that this was thanks to one of the strategies that had not had much success with the beast. At least for now. And I completely overlooked Gaspar. And Shcherbina worked exactly for him and recently even received a general’s star, which did not shine at all on this snitch, though not an ordinary one. Gaspar appreciated Shcherbina’s merits, for a piece of bread with butter and honey.
So the beast had no doubt that he really needed these two, although Gaspar incomparably more. Shcherbina was shallow, stupid and greedy. Although he had many professional advantages in the field of his official activities. At his insignificant scale in Gaspar’s brigade (Gb).
Whereas Gaspar himself was of an intelligent cut and mind. He had certain leanings in fantastic simplicity of mind. Having the simplest algorithm for determining the right solution. Which together bore such fruit, elevating Gaspar to the highest position in the sublunary world.
And how he came up with the idea of harnessing the beast to Allah for him on Judgment Day… I can’t imagine.
Perhaps it was Shcherbina again. Who knew from experience that nothing is impossible for the beast in people’s minds. Shcherbina knew that the beast is allowed to read people’s minds at a distance from their past, present, and future. So Gaspar waited. Either he wanted to check if it was true. Or maybe it was just greed, so as not to be indebted.
His knowledge of the beast was to his credit, though I didn’t quite understand why three killers had been sent to me. Three of the best killers in the world, plus one woman to coordinate. Been here for a whole month before I got to go in for him yesterday.
Kill me? There was no point. And they couldn’t. And they knew it themselves. But I guess I had to make a move, and that’s why Gaspar made the move.
I was waiting for some kind of suggestion from him, after all. The first two in his head were traps for the beast, but the back-up third option was very good.
But Gaspar was afraid. He was afraid of getting close to the beast and accidentally getting knocked up. He wanted to harness on every level and was ready to drop the beast and run away at any second. Not from fear of the beast. But out of fear for himself.
Eventually, I got sick of it all. The beast got in on Gaspar in both worlds and wrote about it in Threema’s chat room, which they read all the time (with all their technology and capabilities). Ten minutes later, the killers got orders to go back.
Another disappointment. Gaspar has ceased to be of interest to me. And he would soon regret it himself. My siding with him doesn’t mean solving the Gunnia problem, which Sonny initiated. And the resolution of that issue was apparently what Gaspar hoped for in the first place. I don’t really understand his motives, though. But maybe there’s something I don’t know. Or I don’t want to know.
To be continued