The Visitor (10 page)

“There was wholesale murder in Cambodia by the Khmer Rouge from 1975 to 1979, by execution, starvation, and forced labor, killing 1.7 million people, about a quarter of the population. The Arabs fought Israel in wars off and on that were nearly thirty years long, and fighting continues regularly between Israel and some Arab states. There has been fighting in the north of India in the Punjab on several occasions. Groups of Catholic Irishmen were blowing up English Protestants with terrorist bombs to keep alive a vendetta for decades in retaliation for past horrific acts of the British against them. There were race riots between the Chinese and Malay in Singapore in 1965, followed by the riots in Malaysia a year later. There was the Falklands Island war of 1982, between Argentina and the British, which was actually decided by Gurkhas, like my driver Lachhiman, who, working for the British, landed on one side of the island and chased the Argentine Army across the island to defeat. Clashes in Africa occur regularly, with hardly any country there able to run itself. There has been massive slaughtering in some African nations, like the racial slaughtering there between the tribes of Hutu and the minority Tutsi, both blacks but of different tribal origins.

He paused to take a quick breath. “There was fighting and extermination of races not far from where we are now, in Bosnia-Herzegovina with the Croats, Muslims, and Serbs fighting among each other, resulting in an accord in 1995, dividing up Yugoslavia into new territories and creating the Serb-controlled Republika Srpska. There is much hatred there among those groups, and it is only the presence of the NATO-led foreign troops that keeps fighting from breaking out again. Then there is the routing out of the Chinese by the Muslims in Indonesia not long ago. The US president Carter turning over Iran to Muslim radicals was the precursor to Muslim terrorism. There was Iraq with its leader Hussein killing Kurds in the north of the country, using anthrax on his own countrymen, funding terrorists in other countries, and then sending his army into Kuwait. US presidents made war to rid Kuwait of occupation, then to rid Iraq of Hussein, and they to continue to war in Afghanistan. There is much warring presently in many parts of the world by Muslims intent on killing innocents that are not Muslims, or that are not of the same Muslim sects, fueled by religious fanatics. In Russia, and other places, Muslims attack non-Muslim Russians often over who is the true God, the Muslim Allah or the Orthodox Christ, although that is just an excuse for killing. There are about eleven million illegal Muslim immigrants in Russia. Muslims now bring their terror in the form of suicide bombers to civilized places and blow themselves up along with innocent victims in many countries. There are also wars over who is to control the country, such as in Syria.”

“Have Muslims always done these things?”

“Well, if you go back much farther than World War II, there is a huge history of religious wars, and not only Muslims. But your question was concerning matters since World War II. Much of the cause of current terrorism stemmed, or at least began, from US President Carter, arguably the worst US president ever, giving up Iran to medieval religious Muslins by withdrawing support of the Shah of Iran years ago, for what he called a poor civil rights record. Muslim fanatics learned they could then control countries, especially those with oil reserves.”

With that, he leaned back and sighed. “I’m sure I have left out many.”

“Are the wars and killing finally over, or continuing?” Tak asked,

“Oh, continuing, to be sure. The US and its allies are at war in Afghanistan. There are outbreaks of minor fighting in many parts of the world. There is war in Syria, Muslim against Muslim. There is killing by Muslims of other Muslims in Iraq. There is fighting in parts of Africa.

“Humans are a primitive lot, as evidenced by their adherence to numerous religions and blindly following religious leaders. Today is not much different from medieval times and the Inquisition. Religious leaders, and there are so many, seek power by wanting to be exclusive. Most people, excepting the Hindus, believe in a single God, but of course they have different notions of what the true God is. Most all believe that their notion of God is the one and only true God, and all other Gods are false. It is sort of like saying, ‘I believe in the one and only true God, and He is merciful and wonderful. And if you don’t believe in Him, I’ll kill you.’”

Baron smiled at his little joke, but Tak did not take it as humor and listened intently. “But, I must say, it’s good for business,” he added.

“Good for business?”

He backed away from the admission. “Oh, it’s just an expression.”

Then
, she wondered,
why did the Federation send me to this barbaric place
?
Was it just to confirm the obvious
?
Was it just a training mission for me as my first mission alone and, in actuality, unnecessary
?

Baron looked at his watch to avoid further interrogation. “Will you join me for dinner? There is a delightful, elegant restaurant downtown, overlooking the square that has the most wonderful Polish food. I’ve reserved a table in two hours.”

“Oh, yes.” Then she looked down at her clothes. “I believe that the custom is to dress differently at elegant restaurants, and I would not look appropriate at your table, so maybe I should decline.”

“Nonsense!”

Baron looked about for the concierge and saw him at the end of the lobby. Baron signaled for him to come over by raising his hand.

The concierge hurried over to the distinguished guest. “How may I serve you, Baron?”

“My guest will be joining me for dinner in two hours. Will you please tell Lachhiman where to take Mademoiselle for the best dress shop in Krakow? And call ahead and have the shop charge whatever she wants to me here on my hotel bill.”

“Of course, Baron,” the concierge said.

“I’ll stay here and have another drink or two,” Baron said to Tak. “Why don’t you go now before the shops close? Have fun.”

***

Tak sat across from Baron at a little table for two in a bay window at the quaint restaurant on the second floor, overlooking the square in downtown Krakow. The guests were more formally dressed as Baron knew they would be, and Tak looked beautiful in her new outfit and shoes.

“Is this outfit good?” She had bought a simple, one piece, black evening outfit and black, high-heeled shoes, all of which the shop keeper recommended.

“You look like a supermodel.”

The waiter came, and Baron was prepared. “Definitely the duck.” He then selected a wine.

The waiter looked at Tak. She smiled. “Definitely the duck.”

Baron laughed and then announced his plans. “Tak, tomorrow I’m scheduled to go to Germany. I assume you’ll be staying on?”

“Is that far?”

“No. I’ll be going by car. The drive is through the countryside and, with a stop or two to stretch and eat, it should take one day. Do you know Germany?”

“No.”

“It is quite different than Poland. Would you like to join me? You have seen the main highlights here in Krakow.” Then he said something satirical but it was not understood as such by Tak. “Or perhaps tomorrow you were going to stay on and do some shopping for Polish crystal?”

“Oh no, it would be inconvenient to collect native artifacts.” After she said that, she realized somehow
collecting
native artifacts
did not seem like the best choice of words.

But if Baron noticed her faux pas, he did not mention it. “Then why don’t you join me?”

“That is across another governmental border, correct?”

Baron again raised his eyebrows at the curious question. “Yes, we cross the German border.”

“What would I need to cross the border?”

“Well, since the two countries are both part of the European Union, you do not need a passport. But if you want later to go elsewhere, you’ll need your passport.”

“Thank you, I’ll join you. Where do I get a passport?”

***

The morning view of the Vistula River from her balcony at the Forum Hotel was a sight to remember.

Both Tak and Baron went down to the restaurant for polish sausage and coffee.

“We’ll be leaving in an hour,” he told her after they enjoyed coffee and sausage together.

He left for his room to make ready for the journey to Germany. Tak had nothing to pack other than her satchel and her new black dress and shoes, which fit neatly into her bag, and which she had already packed. So she stayed on to observe more human behavior.

After Baron had gone to his room, four men came in from the outside, apparently not staying at the hotel, and sat near to Tak. They ordered coffee. Their appearance was rough and disheveled. They were wearing inexpensive suits that had not been pressed recently and had on wrinkled shirts with soiled collars and without ties. The pockets in their suits sagged, as if from carrying things. They were not clean shaven. Tak detected a slightly foul body odor from the one sitting nearest to her. They were speaking what she recognized as Russian, although she didn’t understand the words, and did not seem to belong in the hotel compared to the other guests.

She could see outside the hotel glass doors to the area where the cars arrived. A small crowd of on-lookers was gathering around as Baron’s grand, white car pulled up. Out of the car came Lachhiman, muscular and fit, in command of the car and his surroundings. The four men in the lobby all looked toward the Rolls Royce and spoke to each other about it, but so did everyone else who saw it. They then got up and went outside to the parking area.

“Good morning, Tak!” Baron’s louder than normal voice vibrated the air from behind her as she was watching outside. Tak turned to see Baron, eloquently dressed, adorned with a fedora hat.

“Baron! Good morning!” she said, trying to return his exuberance.

A baggage man came along with Baron’s luggage on a brass hotel luggage cart. His bags were four in number, of cloth and natural saddle leather from the best of London’s shops, and in slightly descending sizes. Lachhiman placed the bags on the luggage rack that folded down horizontally off the rear of the car, making it into a shelf. He strapped them down with matching leather straps, the largest on the bottom. The bags actually added to the unique effect of the car.

When Lachhiman finished strapping the bags on, he came around to stand at attention for Baron. Then, at just that moment, as though on cue in a movie, out he came from the hotel doors, with all four of the doormen standing at attention in a row to bid him goodbye, the concierge having orchestrated his leaving. Hotel guests outside stopped to gaze at the sight of this most interesting man entering his car, as if it was a major event. Lavish tips were passed out by Baron, with the most to the concierge. Tourists took photos of the car with their small-point-and-shoot cameras or cell phones, while Baron fed off of the attention. Tak then followed Baron into the car.

The spring scenery through the countryside was gorgeous, initiated by a light shower, followed by sunlight, with the delightful odor of spring in the air. After a while, Tak, curious about the driver, asked, “Baron, Lachhiman has brown skin. Where is he from?”

“His name is Lachhiman Thapa, PVC. He’s a Gurkha.”

Ignoring the fact that Baron might wonder about her wrist computer, Tak commanded her wrist computer for an instant translation of what was being continuously recorded for PVC in English. It showed an answer, polyvinyl chloride.

She turned to Baron. “He’s named after plastic?”

Baron laughed aloud and announced his driver’s new name: “Lachhiman Thapa, polyvinyl chloride!” He laughed again. “PVC stands for
Param Vir Chakra
. It’s the post-independence equivalent of the Victoria Cross.”

“Is that like
Baron
?”

“The difference is that baron
is usually a title from birth for a nobleman, although there are exceptions. PVC is earned after birth through achievements. In the case of Gurkhas, most of the awards of the Victoria Cross or the Param Vir Chakra have been given posthumously--that is, after death.”