18.6

Although he went through the motions of communication with the two men, the words ringed his mind like a cage.

Who was meant to stop talking? Was he supposed to stop talking? Was it just personal, or was it his job to go back down the mountain and somehow sell this… ridiculous idea.

Mate… good luck!

Max hadn’t cried for years, but some people had good reason to cry! Crying was natural! How could you stop people crying? People cried! Surely he didn’t have to try to tell people this… nonsense.

Nothing you see will be destroyed – was that the good news?

Was it some kind of trade off – the planet survives, and we are all so happy about that we are beyond tears but…

Mate… you’ll never stop everyone talking.

He thanked the men and walked out onto the courtyard.

The morning was breaking into life as he stepped up onto the parapet and gazed down over the valley. Smoke from hundreds of small fires drifted below like vague clouds.

Max felt strangely impotent. He’d done his best, but ended up totally powerless, crushed by the enormity of the task ahead of him.

It’s one thing to be a sadhu, something else altogether to be a sadhu with a message. But mate… you’ve ended up a sadhu with a message you don’t even understand!