The Ball. Volume#1. “Kuluangwa”
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It was in this condition – fully absorbed by the game and happily shouting something to his new teammates in some strange language he was picking up on the spot – that Diego was found by his father, who reached the village by following a barely visible road. Beside him sat the amusing native man who found Diego yesterday in the woods. Last night, when the boy fell asleep, the man got to the construction workers and immediately found the search party headed by Diego Sr. Through a local interpreter, the man reassured the anxious father that his son is in perfect health. However, he also said it would be better to pick the boy up tomorrow because it is dangerous to move through the bush at night, and there would be no point. Although his father was eager to go retrieve his son right away, his colleagues calmed him down, and the native man said that he would stay overnight in the construction workers’ village. And now, Diego Sr. joined the spectators gathered around the field. Nobody paid any attention to him, and in order not to interrupt the magical flow of what was happening on the field, Diego Sr. started to watch the game with great interest.
The play on the field brought mixed success to both teams. Surprisingly, the native boys played very well, strongly owning this black ball, as if they’ve been kicking it from the moment they began to walk. What they lacked in skill, they made up for with their endless enthusiasm and passion which were more than enough to cover the technical flaws. Diego, by contrast, stood out on the field with his technical tricks, which he memorized from his school trainings. And that’s what was amazing about this day – with this little black ball, everyone was playing so damn well. In whatever complex combination Diego could take this little black ball, the two of them immediately merged, becoming one mechanism, and Diego always managed to do with the ball exactly what he wanted. For example, not only did he manage to shoot a nice goal between the legs of the nearly naked goalkeeper, he also made some exceptional passes, one of which also resulted in a goal. And now, with the score 5:5, Diego tried to get a comfortable position in the opponent’s penalty area. His team earned a corner kick, and now both teams stamped before the goalkeeper, pushing shoulders and elbows, hoping to score the winning goal. Or prevent it. By some pre-destined fate, they were playing for that sixth goal.
The kick! The ball slowly tore the space between multiple bodies, arms, and legs, seemingly freezing over Diego’s head. But instead of jumping and trying to change the direction of the ball with his head, the boy took off vertically, swinging in the air with his whole body, and at the top, continuing to twist, he hit the ball hard towards the net. The goalkeeper didn’t even move while the ball flew right through its target, hit the ground, rolled over and stopped in the lifted white dust. The ball stopped its movement beyond the gate, just at the feet of the ancient and scarred old man. Diego, as a result of falling, deeply cut his left hand against a dry-stemmed bush that grew from the cracked earth. He also cut his eyebrow from the pebbles on the ground. The boy stood up, brushed his dusty shorts and T-shirt, leaving bloody stripes on his chest.
He was already surrounded by the boys from his team, who were shouting, laughing, and clapping Diego’s shoulders and back. But Diego suddenly stopped, seeing how from the edge of the field that horrible old man was slowly moving in his direction. «You came, you came at last!» Diego heard the deep voice coming at him, although it was crying out in some incomprehensible language. «Let soro ta kama vok! Ton guha!»
CHAPTER 16
To: Head of Intelligence Directorate,
General Staff of the Red Army,
General I.I. Ilichev
December 16, 1942
From the report of GRU Major S.S. Solomakhin
Comrade General,
Here is a document received by our fact-finding group that confirms our original suspicion that the former leadership of the OGPU had an interest in the object of our concern.
FROM THE ARCHIVES OF THE NKVD (6th DIVISION)
Case №38—9. Top secret.
Transcript of surveillance recordings
Moscow, Bolshaya Lubyanka, Building 11, Room 208
From the book of visitors of Deputy Chairman of the OGPU G.G. Yagoda
Date – June 12, 1931
Visitor (Time In / Time Out)
V.G. Karpov, OGPU Lieutenant (04:16 / 04:27)
«Allow me to report, Comrade Yagoda?»
«Come in, Karpov, report what you got on this… Prichitalov?»
«Uhm…»
«Uhm… what!?»
«Uh, I…»
«What is it? Karpov, you have to pretend that I’m not me, that I’m not Yagoda, but, say, your comrade-in-arms and we are in the midst of crushing the Kronstadt rebellion. You are… (noise). And we’re together, we are eliminating the enemy… (noise) line of attack… And we are not in the Lubyanka right now, but in the storage room….»
«But I already put everything on record…»
«That report of yours, Vasiliy, is adequate. You described everything well. But the number of mistakes in there…»
«Comrade Yagoda, I’m not well-educa…» (noise)
«Okay, so what’s this with your former fr…» (noise)
«… he is not my friend, Comrade Yagoda. When I was chased around by the police hounds before the revolution, Prichitalov was an investigator with the Moscow Criminal Department. I was young back then, so he pulled me out of jail, made me promise that I will not under… (noise) help him…»
«… right.» (noise)
«He came by yesterday. He’s an old man now, really old. He said, I helped you once, you owe me a favor, but not a heavy one. I trust you, he said, and I want to hand over some documents from a case that the Okhrana9 closed 23 years ago… (noise) concealed and redacted. I don’t need anything, he said, but your department should know this… Deliver this to the head, personally.»
«Did you read it your… (noise) … and also… mention to anyone else?»
«I briefly looked at Filippov’s case. Nothing special. He died from a lightning strike. My old man also died from a lightning… (noise) haymaking field… (noise) … The dossier is too heavy, it’s painful to read, all these scientists, numbers, words… (noise). And the part about Chri… (noise) the Savior is just nonsen… (noise) … My mother goes there every weekend. I tell her, your son is in the organs, and you embarrass me like… (noise)»
«Alright, Karpov. Well done, you are dismissed.»
«I serve the So… nion.»
(noise)
«… about Prichitalov?»
«Everything will be alright… (noise) Dismissed.»
«Yes, Comrade Yagoda!»
Karpov leaves. Pause of 11 minutes and 32 seconds before telephone connection is made with the office secretary.
(Connection established)
«Nastya, bring me some strong tea and connect me with Comrade Kaganovich.»
«Yes, Comrade Yagoda.»
(Connection, signal made, only a one-way deciphering of the conversation)
«H-hello, dear Comrade Kaganovich.»
«…»
«I don’t sleep, I serve of the proletariat…»
«…»
«I had a visitor a few minutes ago, poor man, may his soul rest in peace…»
«…»
«What do you want me to say?»
«…»
«Yes, our souls…»
«…»
«… looks like our concerns are justified. He brought me a stack of papers on the Cathedral of Christ the Savior – you will not be disappointed, dear Comrade.»
«…»
«It is very much confirmed.»
«…»
«We have to dig up all the corpses, open the crypts, tomb after tomb…»
«…»
«I think it is there, in their Russian graves, which they continue to hold on to…»
«…»
«And if not, then what?»
«…»
«Are you kidding me?»
«…»
«What about Koba?»
«…»
«Koba is a piece of shit? You better be quiet…»
«…»
«Let’s first close this damn church, I mean, close it and check every single…»
«…»
«If not… hold off blowing it up!»
«…»
«Will you sign the order?»
«…»
«Koba? Don’t joke!»
«…»
«Sovnarkom10… Alright, understood. With your signature…»
«…»
«I don’t see any other way… We need this black rock of the proletariat like never before. That’s right, for our fight, and especially right now!»
«…»
«I think it would be prudent to engage Comrade Tukhachevsky if we find our black ball…»
«…»
«Yes, I will contact you.»
***
DECREE
Analyze all possible instance where the «Trigger» case intersects with the former Cathedral of Christ the Savior in Moscow as soon as possible. Report directly!
Ilichev
***
Memorandum from GRU Major S.S. Solomakhin
Comrade General,
At your request, we have compiled a dossier on the history of the Cathedral of Christ the Savior (CCS) from the archives of the Moscow Patriarchate and the State University. We have identified possible linkages of the CCS and its servants to the object of our interest. We are continuing to find and analyze documents from the archives of the Imperial Intelligence Service and the pre-revolutionary Moscow Detective Department.
***
Research based on the Moscow Patriarchate’s archives
The Cathedral of Christ the Savior was built in gratitude for God’s blessing in a critical period in Russian history, as a monument to the courage of the Russian people in the fight against Napoleon’s invasion in 1812.
When the last soldier of Napoleon’s 600,000-strong army was expelled from Russia’s borders on December 25, 1812, Emperor Alexander I signed a Supreme Manifesto on the construction of the Cathedral of Christ the Savior to commemorate the victory. The Emperor also issued a «Supreme Decree to the Holy Synod to establish annual festivities on each 25th of December to commemorate the deliverance of the Church and the Russian power against the invasion of the Galls, and with them, their polluted language»:
«Upon the Emperor’s conception, a grandiose cathedral-monument was to be built on the ruins of the ancient capital. This idea was laid out in the Supreme Manifesto: «In preservation of the eternal memory of the matchless zeal, fidelity and love of Faith and Fatherland exemplified by the Russian people in these difficult times, and to mark our gratitude to Divine Providence for saving Russia from an impending doom, we set out to build our Church in the name of Christ the Savior in the City of Moscow.
God bless our endeavors! Let this Church stand for many centuries and let the incense of appreciation burn before the holy throne of God as new generations revere and adulate the feats of their ancestors!»
The idea of building a memorial church belonged to General Mikhail Ardalionovich Kikin and was handed over to Alexander I by Admiral Alexander Semyonovich Shishkov. Articulated in the czar’s Manifesto, the idea of building a memorial church received the most enthusiastic support from all layers of Russian society, which was unusual for its time.
On October 12, 1817, five years after the retreat of the French army from Moscow, the ground-breaking ceremony of the Cathedral of Christ the Savior took place on the Sparrow Hills, between the Smolensk and Kaluga roads. However, after the death of Alexander I, the new czar of Russia, Nicholas I, ordered to suspend all work and construction was halted in 1826.
From the Moscow Police Department archives, we found that «before the decision to cease construction, there was a secret meeting between the English and French envoys to the Emperor Nicholas I, where, to our knowledge, the choice of a new location for the erection of the Cathedral was discussed. After meeting with the foreign guests, the Emperor came out anxious and not depressed as usual. The English and French envoys were in a very jovial disposition. By the czar’s personal decree, they had established a special group that meticulously studied new locations for the cathedral, in accordance with the rules of terrestrial and maritime navigation, with all possible equipment and tools.
On April 10, 1832, Emperor Nicholas I approved a new plan of the Cathedral, compiled by architect K.A. Thon. The Emperor himself chose the place for the construction of the Cathedral of Christ the Savior based on the group’s findings. It would be on the banks of the Moscow River, not far from the Kremlin, and at the expense of numerous buildings that had to be destroyed, including the Alekseyev Monastery and Church of All Saints.
According to eyewitnesses, the Emperor mentioned many times that he needed to build the biggest church in Russia for her full recovery, prosperity, and to elevate its status as the most powerful empire of the existing world. This cathedral should be built in one of the most populous cities in the Russian Empire, so that at any given time there will be no fewer faithful worshippers attending than in the Vatican or Mecca.
To our knowledge, there were several more meetings with the envoys, at one of which Nicholas I was given an object that he would keep in his personal safe box at his summer residence. On September 10, 1839, a solemn groundbreaking ceremony of the new Cathedral took place with the Emperor in attendance and laying the first stone. The black, round cobblestone was personally brought to the ceremony by the Emperor in a cardboard box. It is noteworthy that when the digging of the construction pit began, the black stone was not found. It disappeared without a trace. It was reported that some criminals dug under the slab from the side and stole the symbolic stone. Unprecedented manpower was thrown into the investigation and manhunt, but the thieves were never caught. It is known that the search for the missing items was carried out by the police and even the Third Division of the Interior Political Department until the Emperor’s death in 1855.
Our analysis supports a theory that Nicholas I was poisoned. According to the Moscow Police Department, Nicholas I took his own life by ingesting poison. The official cause of death presented to the public was galloping pneumonia. Per the testimony of relatives, Nicholas I forbade that his body undergo any autopsy and embalming should he die.
It is also known that both the French and English envoys were found dead in their country residences three days after the emperor’s death. Both died on the same night and were poisoned by carbon monoxide. A criminal investigation was not conducted as their deaths were both ruled to be «accidents» and the cases were closed.
We must consider two versions. In the first version, the object of our interest – the round, black rock – was indeed stolen from the ceremonial groundbreaking site and its present location is unknown. And according to the second version, the object still lies at the base of the cathedral due to an oversight by the builders who overlooked its importance. Perhaps they mistook it for an ordinary rock and moved it aside.
The Cathedral of Christ the Savior was under construction for almost 44 years. The construction was carried out by the orders of Emperors Alexander I, Nicholas I, Alexander II, and Alexander III. In early 1918, with the issuance of a Decree of the Soviet Revolutionary Council «On the Separation of Church and State, and School and Church,» the cathedral became completely deprived of any assistance from the Soviet authorities. With the blessing of the Patriarch of Moscow and All Russia, Tikhon, the Brotherhood of Christ the Savior was created with a mission to maintain the aesthetic beauty of the cathedral for the sake of the preservation of Russian Orthodox life. This organization continues to exist despite the fact that the building was destroyed. It was quickly flagged as a counterrevolutionary organization and since 1924 it is under the permanent watch of the Division of External Surveillance under the People’s Commissariat of Internal Affairs. The surveillance is controlled by NKVD Major A.V. Sysoyev
The Cathedral of Christ the Savior was demolished on the orders of the Sovnarkom on December 5, 1931. The demolition was directed personally by Comrade L. Kaganovich.
ADDITIONAL INFORMATION
I bring to your attention that our agent in Germany has confirmed that there has been a considerable increase of Abwehr activity in the United States surrounding the case of Mr. Nikola Tesla in the last two weeks.
GRU Major S.S. Solomakhin
CHAPTER 17
70° 4» 36» N170° 51» 12» EChaunsky District, Chukotka, Russian FederationMarch 31, 2001«Nikolai Alekseyevich, don’t make any steps and do not touch anything.» Romanov sat down and lit a thin cigarette, squinting at the flickering tongue of the flame. The corpse has clearly been laying here for years. The human flesh had rotted, decayed, and flowed away with the vernal waters of the Chukchi Sea, which rested like a frozen mirror a few dozen meters from the boulder. However, the man’s odd paper-like robe still remained, with much of its inside eider down intact. Half decayed, the corpse lay in the fetal position, with its hands carefully guarding something from the world. Behind the corpse, a steel frame and rotting leather scraps of what was once a travel bag unveiled a briquette, topped with candle wax, with a bible-sized manuscript inside.
«Look, Andreyich… what’s he holding on to?» The man’s bony hands tightly pressed a black spherical object the size of a sheep’s head against his chest. The ball was pressed so hard as if it were the last thing that would save the man before his death. Andrei Romanov, looking wincingly at his companion, said, «Nikolai, why don’t you go back to the guys in the car. Let them call for the investigators from the district. This is their business to figure out, whatever happened. But it looks like the poor fellow simply lost his way and froze. Come on, come on, Alekseyich!» his voice did not conceal his impatience, «Go to the car! Are also frozen? Go, and also grab my shotgun. Looks like we’re done hunting for today.» Hobbling over to Romanov, Nikolai threw the shotgun over his shoulder and ran back up the hill to the lone all-terrain jeep.
Romanov bent over the corpse, eyeing the strange clothes with interest. He figured the round object was just a common ball that has served its life of being kicked around by village boys. He took off his gloves and touched it. It felt like porous and cold. The material was like a natural rubber. Then, drawing a Swiss Army knife from an inner pocket, he freed the blade and began to gently unpeel the bony fingers grasping the round object. To his surprise, this turned out to be extremely difficult to do. If the tibia crumbled to the melting snow with the faintest touch, the finger bones were rooted to the black ball. Putting the knife aside, Andrei clutched the ball with both his hands and tried to wrest it from the corpse’s grasp. He was pulling to each side with all his strength. The corpse lifted off the ground with the ball, the skull flew off, and the ribs scattered across the dead man’s clothing. The ball was still in its «last embrace» and didn’t want to part with its keeper. Bitch! Well, I’ll get you anyway! thought Romanov. He grabbed the knife and began to frantically scrape the ball from the dead man, finger by finger. Middle finger. Pinky. Forefinger. Fuck! The phalanx of a finger flew off, and before it was lost in the snow, it hit Romanov’s right eyebrow. At the same time, the knife slipped on the icy ball and ripped the palm of Romanov’s left hand. Bloody hell! Andrei shouted at the departed Nikolai, «Kolya! Kolya!»
«Yes, Andrei Andreyevich!»
«Grab the medical kit. I’ve scratched my hand a little.»
«Got it, boss. I’ll be back in a minute!» Nikolai hastily limped to the car.
With some difficulty, so as not to stain his jacket with blood, Romanov took out a paper handkerchief from his pocket, dabbed the scratch on his eyebrows, then covered the wound of his hand with it and held it firmly with his fingers. With a smirk on his face, Andrei put his hand on the black ball on the stranger’s chest. You are strong, brother! Suddenly, he felt a very strange sensation, that the ball was becoming unnaturally warm. Leaning forward, he easily freed the black thing from the dead hands. It even seemed that the headless skeleton stretched out and handed the ball into new hands. Dropping aside the bloody napkin, Romanov brought the ball closer and began to examine it closely: black, weighs maybe two kilograms, about 15 centimeters in diameter, made out of some natural rubber. In two places, it looked as if someone gnawed or plucked at it. Andrei remembered himself as a child, how many times his mother hit his hands for making such holes in bread. The ball now became really warm, soft, and elastic! As he clenched the prize in his hands more firmly, the ball responded to each movement of the fingers. Something extraordinarily attractive was in this strange object. Just like an old favorite childhood toy, he didn’t want to let go of it. He just wanted to keep on crumpling and rolling it between his palms.
Andrei winced painfully – the deep wound on his palm was open again and his blood marked the surface of the ball. At the same moment, the ball was turning red-hot, like an iron. Not having enough time to understand what was happening, Andrei reflexively threw the ball aside. The ball flew like a cannonball, instantly melting the snow on which it landed, and drowned in the ice hummocks. Damn! Is this a hallucination or is this actually happening? Some fucking mystical shit! I didn’t even drink yesterday. He heard some crunchy steps behind him. Nikolai Alekseyevich approached with one of the guards, Renat.
«What happened, boss?» he asked with alarm in his voice.
«It’s all fine. I just scratched my hand on an ice hummock,» Andrei reassured. The guard, squatting, pulled the ball out of the snowdrift and looked at it with interest. The ball again looked like a cold rock – it didn’t burn the hands of Renat.
«Interesting thing, chief. What is it? A children’s toys from the Paleolithic times?»
«Well, well, well… look at how well educated my guard is after all! How do you know about the Paleolithic era, Renat?»
The big guy with Asiatic features curiously stared at the human remains below him. «Chief, I studied at the Geological Institute in Vladivostok. Your words hurt me».
«I thought they took you as an athlete, to lift barbells in university tournaments,» Nikolai butted into the conversation. «Anyway… Andreyich, the guys already got in touch with authorities in Anadyr. A brigade will be here in three or four hours. We described this location to them – they’ll find it themselves.»
«Good. Did you bring the first aid kit?» Romanov showed his bloody palm.
«What’s with the hand, Andrei Andreyevich… it’s not a cut, it looks like a burn of some sort. How did you manage to do this?» Nikolai carefully examined his boss’ palm, whistling. «Let me dress it, dear.»
«No, just put a patch on it. What am I – a soldier on the Second Belorussian Front or something?»
Nikolai splashed some hydrogen peroxide on Romanov’s palm. The liquid rose like white foam before evaporating. He dabbed a gauze pad and put a large patch over it, while muttering an old Russian nursery rhyme, «Tamara and I are a pair, a pair of nurses, Tamara and I…»
«Andrei Andreyevich, we must go. The weather is worsening. By the time we get to the helipad, anything can happen. I don’t want to spend the night in the car. Look at how strange the sky is! And they say that there are no northern lights in the spring! So green! Like grass growing in the clouds!» Nikolai jerked his head toward the horizon.
«Yes, Kolya. Put some pole next to this dead tourist so the brigade finds him quickly. Tie my red scarf on it,» he nodded at the bloodstained cloth. «Renat, grab the Paleolithic toy and the dead traveler’s notebook and throw them in the car. The book is in his bag. And one more thing,» Romanov looked firmly into the eyes of his companions, «don’t mention these things to the cops. Why do they need this headache?»
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