To hear of you at the ends of the earth.

Organizing a trip to faraway Tibet during wartime is not an easy task. Liam thought long and hard about his route. He tried to use trains, disguise himself as a refugee, a military man, even a medic, but many difficulties and hardships awaited him on the way.

Toward the end of his journey, he could not believe that he had set foot in the deserted, sacred lands of Eastern Tibet. He was greeted by vast expanses of hard land, herds of freely grazing yaks, and the tents of shepherds.

After a hard journey among ruined cities and minute danger, Liam enjoyed the scenery: green hills turned into valleys, small villages built of logs and stone, with red roofs and brightly colored ornaments on doors, gates, and shutters.

Here and there were swift streams. It had taken the man nearly four months to get here, much longer than he had expected.

Along the way, he had stormed the peculiar Tibetan language and studied the culture. It was difficult to get decent books on the subject, so the man devoted all his spare time to studying. He did this while jolting around in a freight car with refugees and wounded, and during endless nights in bomb shelters.

He met and said goodbye to people, memorizing the faces and names of those he would never meet again. Fortunately, when he found himself in the lands of eastern Tibet, Liam met friendly people everywhere, who gladly showed him the way and gave him unique Tibetan tea.

The first time he tasted the drink was on a chilly night he spent at a shepherds' camp. The cold wind whistled relentlessly outside the tent, and inside there was nothing that resembled a cozy and warm dwelling.

Dark-skinned men in tall boots, hats, and many with thick braids were warming a kettle over a fire, then pouring a strange drink into metal mugs. Liam noticed that milk had been added to his drink, and when he tasted it, he was surprised – it was salty and fatty. A kind of Tibetan soup.

Nevertheless, the drink warmed him surprisingly on that cold night, and even his blood ran more cheerfully through his veins. Later, Liam drank it many times in different variations – with yak milk or with butter made from yak milk.

The night with the shepherds was the last night of his long journey. In the evening of the next day, he arrived at the Larung Valley, where one of the largest settlements of Buddhist monks was located. Men and women lived in unequal proportions in different parts of the valley, flocking to the center for study and prayer.

Their dark red robes, weathered detached faces, and shaved heads equaled all monks, making them a special breed or subspecies of people. Liam stopped by a small shop before it closed and managed to purchase some monk's clothing.

Then he went straight to the temple to tour its majestic walls and spin the traditional prayer drums. After making seven circles, he dutifully started asking around about Teacher Ko.

Unfortunately, Liam couldn't meet the teacher right now because the venerable lama had gone to meditate at the hut on the slope as recently as three days ago and was scheduled to stay there for another three months. Liam was shocked to learn that many monks went into prolonged meditation for up to a hundred days or more.

The man was confused and bewildered, and he wandered aimlessly along the village's trampled paths until nightfall. Had he not met the "young Buddha," he might have frozen to death that night in the street. It was the tradition of the tulku to find a successor among young boys, a new incarnation of the Buddha, who would be removed from his family at an early age and brought up in a special way.

Liam was lucky to meet such a person, whose mission was to learn the ways of wisdom and mercy, to sow light and truth. When he saw the tired wanderer, he felt it his duty to offer him hospitality and help.

They arrived at the young monk's rather decent house. It was evident that his dwelling was not modest compared to the rest of the slum. He was supported and honored as a new incarnation.

Liam studied the interior "regal" decoration of the dwelling with fascination. Like everywhere else, red and gold were the dominant colors. There were many scrolls and books in the monk's library. He told Liam that he tried to meditate at least three times a day to stop feeling pain and anxiety, and instructed him in the basics of meditation.

Liam was already familiar with the practice of meditation, but he was not reluctant to delve deeper and understand its mysteries in their entirety. The men spent half the night in confused conversation, and then the monk rose and left to meditate. Liam was graciously allowed to wrap himself in warm skins and spend the rest of the night in blissful warmth. At dawn, his mate returned and informed him that the waiting guest would be better spent in a useful way.

Which one, Liam realized a little later, when the monk took him to the settlement and showed him an empty spot that was for building a house. He explained that he could not live idly in the Larung Valley and that it would be better if he joined the monastic brotherhood.

He must first build himself a house and then pray, meditate and attend the lamas' lessons regularly. Liam was a little taken aback at how his life had been planned out for him, but there was no choice and he set to work.

He was given a window and after a day of wandering around the valley, he began to gather materials to build. All the houses were only tentatively called dwellings because three square meters of living space, no matter how small, was negligible.

But considering the cold nights, it was much easier to keep warm in such a doghouse than in a full-fledged big house. Though there were such houses, such as Liam's friend's. Tired and hungry, he crawled back to the monk, who fed him again and let him sleep there.

This went on for two more weeks until Liam officially moved into his monk's apartment. It was then that he realized he needed to learn to meditate because there was nothing else to do in the middle of nowhere, and he was cold and hungry.

Liam tried to go to classes, but he couldn't understand much of the teacher's words, especially not the fluent speech of his fellow students. With a buzzing head, even more unfocused than ever, he left class and increasingly sat in a meditation pose.

After a few days, he was unable to meditate even in his cabin. There was constant construction and clamor nearby. He was ashamed to think that he himself was also disturbing the people around him. So he retreated to a hillside where he could find an empty hut for solitary meditation and meditation.

In time, he began to take food and water to Teacher Ko. This was how he knew which hut he was in, but he was forbidden to distract the teacher from his study. In the monk settlement, it was basically customary to respect each other's personal space.

When meditating, Liam had a problem with his ability at first, and it was taking its toll on him. For example, he could suddenly hear very well what was going on somewhere on the edge of the village, like a pensive Yak chewing grass or someone locked in the latrine.

Both laughing and sinning, Liam struggled to suppress his powers and learned to control himself first. When that began to work for him, he took on his mind, striving to find balance and tranquility. Gradually lengthening his meditations to three days, he suddenly gained the respect of the other monks, who immediately began to regard him as more enlightened.

Out of nowhere appeared obliging fellow monks, who began to leave food at his hut. So the man spent more and more time in meditation, unnoticed by himself, and reached a month of solitude. The Buddha came to interrupt him, announcing that the teacher Ko had left the hut and would be giving lessons.

This event was greeted with restrained joy among the disciples. More smiling and organized, they crowded at the temple steps to greet the enlightened lama. Liam himself had already soaked up the special atmosphere of Tibet, so he felt the excitement and anticipated the thrill of meeting his teacher.

Quietly and without pathos, the small stubby man rose just one step in front of the crowd and, raising his hands, called for silence. Liam already had a decent understanding of Tibetan speech and was able to articulate, so the teacher's speech sounded to him as well.

Amidst the surrounding whispers, Liam had already heard that the teacher always predicted the future after long meditations, and so everyone waited with bated breath.

"My children," the man began, "all of you do not restrain your flesh in vain and hold fast to the true path."

The man took a flatbread and began to break it into pieces, distributing it to those present. When he had finished, he spoke again:

"You must become like this bread to feed the ignorant hearts of people with the truth. I foresee that you will have to disperse and in time this place will be overrun. But do not be discouraged, this is the will of the deity and we must obey it. Just go into the world with a merciful and wise heart, serve the people and gather good deeds for the lives to come."

Finishing there, he descended the steps and made his way through the bewildered crowd. The monks respectfully made way for him, and no one dared to grab his sleeve or call him to ask him about his prediction. All were to comprehend the meaning of his words in thought and meditation.

Liam was standing in his seat, thinking about this and that, when suddenly the people around him began to part and in the resulting corridor he saw the teacher, whose gaze was fixed on him. Liam bowed and froze, and the teacher beckoned him with his hand.

Hastily approaching, Liam followed Ko, not knowing what awaited him, but hoping for a productive conversation. They walked and walked until they were practically out of the settlement. The teacher's house was one of the oldest, and it was noticeable that he hardly lived there.

The man stood on the doorstep for a while, examining the thick layer of dust in the room. Then he turned to Liam and said briefly:

"Let's go see Buddha."

He strode briskly in the opposite direction again, and Liam could barely keep up with him. At the rich monk's house they were welcomed with a warm welcome, delicious salted tea and lambs. Sitting at a low table and eating the pastries, Liam realized that this was not how he had imagined meeting the legendary teacher Ko.

But the man, who turned out to be simple and down-to-earth, impressed him even more. They shared the boring business of the village, focusing on the yak population, and Liam was bored to death. All the more sudden to him were his teacher's words as he was about to leave.

"I won't be coming back with you, but I'll pass on a letter for my student."

Liam looked up at the monk with all eyes. Teacher Ko's eyes glazed over with a moist shroud.

"I'm so sorry for you, child," the monk suddenly stroked his head, "who could have known it would end like this…"

It was as if the words had plunged Liam into an ice hole, and he was numb. The monk took him by the chin and stared into his eyes.

"There's nothing for you to do here, hurry back to the one who's exhausted from waiting. Listen to this old man, the meaning of life is not only to save thousands, sometimes it is enough to love faithfully and wholeheartedly one lost soul."

At this, the teacher left the Buddha's house, and Liam remained on his knees, unable to move. What he had heard had made too strong an impression on him, and he was shaken to the core. Everything seemed vague and came down on him unexpectedly.

"Why did the teacher immediately refuse to come back with me? What ended badly? The only part I understand is the part where he said about Cal, that's who was waiting for me..." 

Liam tried to get his disheveled thoughts in order. Buddha patted him on the back with an unchanging bright smile and said:

"Master predicted his imminent death, apparently he wants to stay here and meet it with dignity."

Liam finally came out of his frozen state and blinked, trying to comprehend what he had just heard. As he rose from his knees, he was saddened by the news of his teacher's death, but he had no idea that at this very moment, the man walking calmly to his home would grab his heart and collapse into the roadside dust.

His face would be turned to the starry sky, and in his hand would be clutched an envelope for his favorite student, Felix, who would never see his guru again. The events of that night would shock everyone, though all the monks knew of the trouble to come.

While still in Europe, Teacher Ko was able to determine that death awaited him in the near future and hurriedly returned to the places dear to his heart. In the morning, Liam witnessed a scene that shocked him as much as his teacher's untimely demise.

According to Tibetan tradition, the body of a dead person was not buried in the ground as the ground was unimaginably hard. Instead, the naked body was cut with knives and left on the ground, where dozens of vultures immediately flew.

This method of burial was believed to be the most valuable Buddhist lesson, symbolizing the perishability of all things. No one but Liam had been so affected by the ritual. His teacher's last words were still echoing in his head, and Liam repeated them like a mantra.

The Buddha silently handed him a crumpled envelope with the addressee's name on it, and after lunch the man said goodbye to the Larung Valley. Leaving his simple home, his meditation hut, his kind friend and the generally marvelous atmosphere of the place, he felt a little sad.

He was provided with nutritious salted tea and simple pastries for the journey. Liam couldn't figure out if he had won or lost, what good was this trip of his. But he also hesitated to read the letter that wasn't addressed to him.

He could only hope that Teacher Ko had tried to get his student to join the good cause that the former Head of the Academy represented.

The return journey took him considerably less time, though he was still often in danger from soldiers, mines, hunger and cold, his own and strangers. He tried to remain himself, lest the horrors of war blacken his heart, so on the way home, he grabbed a few kids who had lost their families.

He knew that the orphanage was already full, but he could not pass by. By the way, traveling with the kids, he began to elicit more sympathy from those around him who were willing to give the kids the last thing they had. He entered his apartment on a late October night when no one was waiting.

Frau Helmitz, out of habit, began to cross herself to get rid of her fright, especially when she saw Liam's almost bald head. He had completely forgotten that living among the Tibetan monks had allowed him to shave his hair, and it had barely grown back and looked like a short hedgehog.

Entering his room, the first thing he did was to take off his cramped, uncomfortable shoes. His feet were swollen and bleeding in many places from all the walking he'd done. Liam had thoughtfully taken the children to safety.

Liam collapsed on his bed and fell into a deep, painful sleep, so he didn't hear a blond man in an expensive suit, smelling of cigars and cognac, burst into his room an hour later. The man had received a call from a concerned Frau that her lodger had returned in an inhuman state and had hurriedly left the commandant's drunken party, citing problems at the factory.

The first thing Cal did was to light the lamp by the bed, and in its uneven light he saw the man's gaunt face with the sparse, short hair on his head, as if he'd survived a terminal illness. Liam's body reeked of sweat, dirt, and bleeding wounds.

Cal had to try very hard to control himself. Next, he ruthlessly wielded a pair of scissors and cut the stinking rags off the man's sleeping body, horrified to find lice in them. Gathering the clothes into a sack, he took them out and immediately sent them to the large stove on the first floor of the boarding house.

"Frau Helmitz, prepare some broth and medicine, something for deep wounds if you have any," asked Cal. He looked distressed and embarrassed.

"Will do," the woman replied subserviently, and rushed to warm the excellent bone broth she had boiled the day before.

When she brought it upstairs, she found Cal, jacket off and sleeves rolled up, washing Liam's feet. Barely looking at those horrible scarred feet, he struggled to keep his sanity and restrained himself from fainting.

Immediately she returned with her large first aid kit, handed it to the man and ran out of the room, gasping for breath from the stench. "How on earth does this handsome gentleman stand it all?" — she wondered as she descended the steps, "let him be sure to air the room." Frau even stopped at the mirror, and taking a small bottle of perfume, sprayed herself with it, risking a burn.

At this very time, Cal was shuddering to get Liam's body into proper shape. After sponging him a few times, but it didn't do the trick, he went to the shower room, where there was a small sitting tub, and filled it with hot water.

If Liam had been conscious, he probably wouldn't have tolerated such a treatment because of the horrible wounds on his legs, but Cal was counting on taking advantage of his sound sleep, bordering on fainting, to refresh his body. Adding some soap to the water, he let Liam soak for a while and then, using a sponge, thoroughly scrubbed him and finally shaved him.

The man, aside from the short hair, looked like himself again. Cal gently laid him in the warmed bed and covered him, leaving only his injured legs exposed. Using all his knowledge of caring for the wounded, Cal dressed and dressed the wounds, intending to bring a factory healer or find someone in town early in the morning.

After all the manipulations, he remembered the broth that had managed to get cold and heated it on the small stove. Lifting Liam up, the man poured the soup into him a spoonful at a time, but not all of it was enough to make him swallow.

Exhausted and with no results, Cal gave up trying to feed the passed out man and laid him back on the bed with the blanket tucked in. He opened the window briefly to let in fresh night air, and then discovered the second source of the foul odor – the horrible boots.

The man had burned them, too. After spending some more time by Liam's side, he sealed the window and left the room to his great regret. Duty demanded he return to the drunken party, for it was the commandant's birthday and the factory manager had yet to pay his respects and present a gift.

The atmosphere at the party slowly turned to vulgar jokes. The invited courtesans played the role of geishas perfectly, listening to the drunken ramblings of their companions. The police captain, the chief lawyer, the local hospital chief, several entertainers, a who's-who of the visiting upper class and many others enjoyed expensive cognac, champagne, hearty food and music.

As a small orchestra sat in the corner of the room, frightened prisoners from the camp. They had been washed and changed into decent clothes that hung around their tortured and hard-labor dried bodies. They played as diligently as if their lives depended on it. At the same time, the musicians did not know where to keep their eyes from seeing the rampages and outrages of the guests.

The party dragged on until almost morning, and when the factory manager threw off his coat again as he entered the smoky hall, some guests were no longer in the mood. Two courtesans were taking the police captain into another room, for what purpose he could understand. His bulging eyes devoured the beauties, with their breasts practically falling out of their deep cleavage and unnaturally red lipstick.

At the edge of the long table sat the commandant, always sober, never losing his head. He was surrounded by a group of less sober guests, whom Cal joined, apologizing for his absence. The commandant poured him a glass of brandy and handed it to him, watching him closely to make sure he drank it. The conversation at the table revolved around the invincible German army and its heroic advance.

"I can assure you that soon the soldiers of the Third Reich will be even more invincible," uttered a chuckling man Cal hadn't seen before. He leaned over to the head lawyer and recognized him as the doctor from Berlin.

"What do you mean?" asked the commandant interested.

"We have developed magic pills," chuckled the doctor slyly.

"Really, and what do they do?" the commandant even leaned forward with curiosity.

"As a matter of fact, that's the purpose for which I came, apart from wishing you a happy birthday of course," bowed the doctor, "I brought the pills."

"Hurry, hurry, tell me what they do!" murmured the guests.

The doctor signaled with his hand for everyone to come closer.

"This substance has a narcotic base and makes people immune to cold, hunger, pain, allows them to stay awake for up to seven days, makes them strong, hardy, all in all, magic pills*."

"What about the side effects?" Cal blurted out, but the others seemed to be interested in that as well.

"Hmm," the doctor wondered if it was worth mentioning, "minor complications."

Everyone murmured approvingly, only the factory manager pressed his lips together skeptically, sensing something bad.

"By the way," the doctor perked up, "you are Mr. Xavier, the factory manager, aren't you?"

"Yes," the man nodded, wary, "what can I do for you?"

"You're just what I need, aren't you, Commandant?"  The doctor turned to the man at the head of the table and the man nodded, "while you were away, we discussed the possibility of testing Pervitin on your workers. When can we start?"**

The doctor's eyes glittered behind thick glasses and looked particularly large and intimidating.

Cal realized his premonition hadn't failed him and smiled strained, not showing his real feelings.