Goliath

“Self-evolution?” David laughs. “I get it, this whole thing’s a joke, right? Simon put you up to this—”

The abrupt knock shakes him from his thoughts. He opens the door to find Taur Araujo. The former guerrilla leader looks pale.

“I found the Chaw. You’d better come.”

Gunnar looks up from his bunk as his stateroom door opens.

Sujan Trevedi enters. “Can we speak?”

“Sujan, right?”

The Tibetan nods. “May I?” He assumes a lotus position by the foot of the bunk. “I’ve been observing you, Mr. Wolfe. For a man who risked his life to destroy the Goliath, you seem most accepting of your fate.”

“Electric shock collars will do that to a person.”

“It’s more than that. You seem to have embraced Simon’s plans.”

“I can see some merit in them. But look who’s talking. I thought Tibetans were against this sort of thing.”

“I support Simon’s end. I no longer approve of his means.”

“But you’re here. You joined him on his little journey of nuclear extortion.”

“Each of us is on a journey, Mr. Wolfe.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

Sujan offers a knowing smile. “I think you do.”

“Is this some Eastern philosophy thing? Because if it is—”

“I am not here to judge. I simply sense in you a deep isolation that comes from a weakened spiritual existence. You desire to feel God’s presence, but you’re afraid. Why are you so afraid, Mr. Wolfe?”

Gunnar looks away.

“Obviously, you have done some things you are not very proud of. You will not find absolution from your sins by disconnecting yourself from God.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve never been very religious.”

“I am not speaking of God in a religious sense, but as a divine presence, a foundation in our lives, the spirit that guides us from within. Without this spiritual presence, we are all just ships without rudders, drifting aimlessly.”

“I had my sense of purpose. I was a United States Army Ranger—full of piss and vinegar and duty and honor. I was supposed to be one of the good guys, fighting the enemies of my country, risking my life for democracy and freedom and all that human rights bullshit. I had an ego that wouldn’t quit. When I looked in the mirror, I actually believed I saw someone I was proud of.”

“And now?”

Gunnar scoffs. “Now, I only see a pathetic waste of a life.”

“We live in a world where violence has become the currency of the day, where the insanity of hatred overwhelms the spirituality of our existence. We search for meaning, yet all we find is chaos.” Sujan closes his eyes. “Isolated in the Himalayas, Tibetans once believed our home would remain an island of tranquility. When the Chinese Communists invaded our country, my people were forced to take up arms, a decision that tore at the very fabric of our beliefs.”

The Tibetan opens his eyes, returning Gunnar’s gaze. “My life, too, has been one great hypocrisy. The monks taught us that only through peaceful objectives could violence be resolved, that only through the death of self—the death of the human ego—could one move closer to the soul. Despite such teachings, my existence has been filled with nothing but violence, my soul tortured by the murderous egos of our oppressors. My father was only three when the Chinese invaded Tibet. Many villagers, my paternal grandparents among them, were rounded up and imprisoned. Hundreds of monks protested by demonstrating peacefully—only to be shot to death by the PLA. Two days later, my father discovered his parents’ bodies, hung from a tree in straitjackets.

“That was the oppressive society I was born into, a society where my people have become minorities in our own country. My parents were farmers, but like most Tibetans, were not permitted to work and were forced to beg each day for food. In 1990, my older sister, Ngawang, and several of her fellow nuns from the Garu monastery attended a pro-independence demonstration at Norbulingka. During the demonstration, Ngawang and the other nuns began chanting, ‘Free Tibet.’ For uttering those simple words, the Chinese soldiers arrested and imprisoned her. During her interrogation, she was handcuffed and stripped, then beaten with bamboo sticks by female guards. She was thrown into a prison cell and left for nine days without food. Eventually she was locked up in a cell with several other nuns. Guards would strip them naked, then shove electric batons in their mouths and shock them, or tie electrical cords around their exposed breasts. The women were raped, their genitals violated with electrical batons. The guards stomped on their hands with iron-tipped boots, then kicked them in the face and stomach. The Chinese would place buckets of urine and human feces on the nuns’ heads and strike the buckets until the excrement dripped down their faces, then take their daily ration of two dumplings, dip it in the filth, and force them to eat it. My sister said some of the guards became so demented with power that they actually cut a few of the nuns’ breasts off.”

“Jesus …”