A Meeting with the Bai

May 31 - Bihar Sanctuary

It was raining in Bihar.

Again.

I hate the rain. The way it trickles down the neck of my uniform. Wet socks on the march. The way you feel that you will never be dry again.

My mood rapidly deteriorating, I trudged from building to building looking for signs of sanctuary staff.

Nobody. Anywhere.

With a heavy sigh, I walked down the ramp into the catacombs that lay beneath the sacred compound. A relief perhaps from the driving rain, but worse for the oppressive humidity underground.

I made my way past an archaic looking statue. Some sort of gargoyle or demon guardian possibly.

Suddenly, a figure moved in the humid gloom up ahead.

It was unnaturally large and it twitched in a frantic fashion. It pulled itself back into the crypt beneath one of the temples. A flurry of cloth.

The part of my brain wired for self-preservation screamed, "RUN! RUN!"

My legs however, would not respond. My heart pounded against my body armour.

Fighting my instincts, I slowly and calmly walked forward.

At the narrow doorway to the crypt, I paused and called out, "Hello...."

"Namaste," a deep voice answered.

As my eyes gradually adjusted to the dim light, I could make out the source of the greeting.

Dressed in a cloak and a hydrosuit suitable for a desert planet, was a man. However, if Tillery's associate Erik was a mountain on two legs, this man was a small moon. He was truly a giant.

His arms were the size of the legs of most men. His torso wide and strong. His hair brushed against the ceiling.

"I am looking for the curator," I said. My voice sounded small all of a sudden. It could have been the acoustics.

"That would be me," he said, "Bai Feargananym, at your service. Are you on pilgrimage or are you seeking refuge?"

Refuge. What a wonderful word.

Just the way he said it, made me feel that everything was going to be okay.

I introduced myself. "I am Major Siamendes of the Special Investigations Unit of the UAP. I had a question..."

"You are welcome here," he greeted me.

I smiled tentatively, "Thank you."

"I will answer your question," he replied, "if it is in my power to do so.."

"In the course of one of my investigations I came across a word... something called the Zahir. I was hoping to find some understanding of the term."

"A Zahir causes all consuming obsession," he explained, "and it leads you from the quintessential truth."

I frowned, "I don't understand..."

Bai Feargananym continued, "Muslims use the word to reflect people who obsess about the forms in the Koran, but not grasp the spirit. Buddhists use it to point out about the treachery of material things."

"What could this object be then?" I asked.

"For some people, there would be no Zahir. It is different for everyone, if they are susceptible."

I looked at the ground as I thought.

"Are you trapped?" he asked, "Is your Zahir ruling your life?"

I exhaled, "I hope not." I did tend to focus on work, block out other concerns. But this obsession sounded ...religious.

"The part of you that is most conscious and the part of you that is the 'self' are separate," explained the Bai, "What you think of as your 'self' is what will obsess about the Zahir."

"You are an investigator, am I correct?" he asked.

"Yes."

"You are trained to listen to your thoughts."

"Yes ...and to monitor my feelings."

"You must learn to turn that off."

"Turn it off?" I exclaimed.

"To turn away from the part that listens and speaks."

"But I analyze," I protested, "That is what I do..."

"If you cannot turn it off on occasion," he warned, "You will be susceptible to the curse of the Zahir."

Aha, a possible defense against whatever Ardra was planning.

My eyes narrowed, "Go on. Tell me how."

"To be free from the Zahir is what separates us from the machines. There is meditation, but I bet you need something more psycho-physical. Immerse in the mind-body connection might be your doorway.

"I have had some training in the dojo," I offered helpfully.

"Something more serene," he prescribed, "Come with me."

---

Bai Feargananym stood in the Mountain Pose on a red yoga mat at the entrance of a magnificent temple of blue and white. Blue mats lay spread out on the floor in neat rows. Serene Buddhas observed us with detachment.

"I am in armour," I reported, "I should remove it."

"You do not need it here," he assured me.

He began to move into the first yoga posture and from there the next, making it appear effortless despite his massive frame.

In an alcove nearby, I removed my protective equipment. I unbuckled my duty belt and placed it carefully against the wall. Elbow protection, chest armour, all shed and set aside.

I returned to the practice area in my service greys.

"Find yourself on one of the blue mats," instructed the Bai.

We did some sixteen postures or asanas in quiet succession. I matched the movements of the Bai as best as I could.

It was some ten minutes before he spoke again. I listened respectfully.

"We used to give classes to the Alliance Monitoring Station during the MKULTRA scares," he commented.

Triangle Pose.

"It is like kata," I observed.

"It is," he agreed.

"Being able to turn off the listening and speaking part of your brain would protect you from an invasive mental process," he explained.

Warrior Pose.

"That could be useful," I admitted, "Even to shut out pain."

"Zahir was one of the MKULTRA projects too I am told," he added.

"It was a project?" I asked.

"Part of one," he replied, "It is how they would get a subject to self terminate."

Downward Facing Dog.

"Tell me about MKULTRA please." I asked.

Upward Facing Dog.

"Government sponsored mind control projects," he replied, "going back to Earth That Was."

Tree Pose.

Chair Pose.

Eagle Pose.

"How was the Zahir one of their projects?" I asked.

Firefly Pose.

"It came out of the Manchurian Candidate Process," he explained, "After the subject fulfilled his mission, the Zahir would activate."

Forearm Stand.

"The person would obsess about it and be immune to interrogation. Only thinking about the Zahir. Eventually go catatonic, refusing to eat or drink."

Scorpion Pose.

"And the antidote?" I asked.

"I do not know of one," he replied.

Handstand.

"...I only know that the soldiers were taught how to prevent it. As we are now."

Backbend.

Firefly Pose.

"How often should one train in this way?" I asked.

Headstand.

"You could do this once per week or spend your ever waking hour," he replied. "Yoga cannot be perfected."

I smiled, "Well, that's a relief." My schedule was tight enough as it was without having to find room for perfection.

Mountain Pose.

"In striving, you can release your mind," counseled the Bai. "There is no destination, only the path, enjoy the journey."

The longer we spent doing our asanas, I found myself opening up to this man.

"My life is so goal oriented..." I admitted. There was that small voice again.

Triangle Pose.

"I hunt those who would mock the law," I said simply.

"Thus you need to be able to look away from those goals sometimes," he remarked, "else you can be blinded by staring at them too much."

Warrior Pose.

"Goal are important," he added, "but do not let them own you."

Downward Facing Dog.

"The Zahir also came about in Artificial Intelligence Lore," he continued.

"Oh?"

He explained, "Those fearing the AI uprisings and zombie apocalypse."

Upward Facing Dog.

"Zombies," he continued, "i.e. Reavers are good examples of people given over to the Zahir."

Tree Pose.

"Artificial Intelligence was hampered for centuries from the Zahir defect."

Chair Pose.

"How so?" I asked.

Eagle Pose.

"If the AI ended up with motivations, it could end up with a Zahir obsession and cease to function."

"Motivations?" I repeated.

"Making it self motivated carried a large risk."

Firefly Pose.

"The difference between being a mere machine and being sentient is to have motives, volition, free will," he expanded.

Forearm Stand.

Scorpion Pose.

"Yes," I said, " but isn't having motivations a characteristic of being human?"

"Yes, he answered, "although free will continues to be debated."

"Wouldn't you want that in an AI?" I asked.

Handstand.

Backbend.

"Every day I try to live without the self or free will...," he answered.

Firefly pose.

"...I am sure I have not succeeded...."

Headstand.

"...It is why I am not a monk."

Again I protested, "How could I possibly function... capturing war criminals and slavers... without focus on a goal?"

Mountain pose.

He began, "The part of you that you think is thinking is only a small part of your mental processes..."

Triangle Pose.

"In fact, there are many things you do not think about, you simply do them...."

Warrior Pose.

"...Neils Bohr used to admonish his students that they were not thinking, merely being logical."

I felt like the Bai had slapped me.

"Thank you," I replied, "That touched a nerve."

Downward Facing Dog.

"I hope it helps you on your path," he said graciously.

Upward Facing Dog.

"You are part of the Zenobian Unit, am I correct?" he asked.

"Yes," I replied.

Tree Pose.

"Have you seen the Pillar of Queen Zenobia we recovered?"

"I have," I answered, "I noticed it when I arrived. I am truly impressed."

We concluded our series of asanas. I joined him at the red mat.

"We are presenting it to House Zenobia later this month," he explained, "We also have an artifact for Al Raqis. We have to arrange transport and security. We don't want a repeat of the reliques of Saint Zenobius."

"The Noble House with be honoured with your gift," I remarked. It was a mighty gift indeed.

"We think they will safeguard it."

-----

The Bai left the temple while I returned to the alcove to gather my things.

I can't say I was dwelling on anything he had said in particular. In fact, as I replaced my equipment, I was simply aware of buckling my duty belt, of the familiar weight of my body armour.

-----

"There are three separate parts to our job," explained Bai Feargananym as I joined him beside the pillar, "Finding it, getting it, keeping it safe afterward. The third part is actually the most difficult."

The pillar was originally from Palmyra, the ancient city of Queen Zenobia. It was inscribed in Greek and Assyrian.

"Why do you think the reliques of Zenobius were taken?" I inquired.

"To cause disarray. It certainly worked."

"To what end?" I asked.

"Albion had a substantial change in government."

"Yes," I acknowledged.

"The certainty of the overclass was subverted. If what Mirra says is correct, they planned this for a long time."

"So better I should ask, who would profit?" I mused. A hint of a whisper of a clue to Ardra's employers.

I turned and asked, "Mirra?" Who was Mirra?

"She thinks that it is most likely that the reliques were switched out during the war. Mirra is our artifacts authenticator."

"Ah, yes. I actually met her once.... in church." She was examining the casket of St. Zenobius. I was sitting in the rear of the church. I had dropped by to quietly observe.

"Long term planning," I reflected, "and broad thinking too I fancy."

I turned to face the Bai, "Thank you for your kindness and the benefit of your knowledge."

"Any time," he replied courteously, "it is why we are here."

"I must go," I added.

"We work with old stones like this, but it is all really about people and souls. Come again whenever you need to."

I reached out and touched the stone pillar gently. "Thank you," I said with a smile, "I will."

"Namaste. Pranam," he said.

I turned and walked across the wet and soggy grass the towards my shuttle.

It was only then that I realized that we had been standing in the rain.