She finally predicted that in this atmosphere of universal mutual support, nuclear weapons would be rapidly dismantled without any fanfares. Then children would no longer point guns at each other, or at other people, not even toy-guns. The very thought of wanting to hurt another person would then become repulsive.
With the recognition of this bright future at humanity's grasp, our journey in the North was fast becoming a most exciting and beautiful celebration. It became an adventure into inner space with a beauty all of its own. What unfolded between was radically different than what Anton and I had experienced on our previous adventure to this brilliantly white and sun-filled world.
When I looked at the taiga below on the last segment of our flight in the brightness of the next morning, a feeling emerged that was totally linked to Ushi. There was no blending between Ushi and Anton, or any blending between the present and our early days when our footsteps were unsure. The present came to life with its own profound unfolding.
We saw the reindeer herds again, but somehow, they seemed not so significant this time. We realized that their continued existence, too, would depend on our success in changing the world at the grass roots level, which we felt certain we could accomplish.
Shortly before we landed, I finally understood what Ushi had meant when she said that a new type of music would become appropriate to describe the new developments of our love. The past was history. The future was now. And with this in mind the idea emerged that the percussion concerto of the Scottish composer James McMillan would be an appropriate work to describe our love. The music describes the way our long overdue marriage ceremony had been, its simplicity, the joyous acknowledgement of our love, the celebration of our commitment to each other. Even the glitter of the ice crystals is reflected in that music, as they shimmered magically at the airport when the temperature had dropped deep into the minus degree range so that it freezes the last bit of moisture out of the air.
We landed at noon on the same frozen lake or river that the snow cat driver had called the Oymyakon International Airport. Only this time, Nina was waiting for us. She had come with her much lighter twin engine plane. She had left the engines running and came toward us on snowshoes, carrying two pairs of snowshoes for us. She was glad to see me. She welcomed me with a hug and a kiss. I introduced Ushi to her as another one of my loves, whom she likewise welcomed with a kiss and great big bear hug and a smile that seemed brighter than the sunshine reflected in the snow.
I told Nina about our marriage ceremony along the way. In response to that, she put us up in her own apartment, as her personal guests, which appeared like it were a marriage acknowledgement of her own. Oh, and she did have a recording of the Organ Symphony of Camille Saint Saens, and all the other music that we needed, as well as the Nutcracker Suite. I had remembered correctly, the cruise missile base did have a large music library. But more surprising than this, was Nina's acknowledgement of her own unfolding marriage with us. Perhaps she realized that this expanding infrastructure of love embraced her too, which it did, which she acknowledged with a great joy.
Nina told us over lunch that she was prepared to spent the next two weeks with us to shift our joint peace project into high gear as fast as possible. She said that this didn't mean that she was prepared to talk politics for the entire duration. Indeed, the sensitive nature of our political situation made this kind of talking quite impossible, anyway. Consequently, the major part of our project in Siberia became a journey into inner space, exploring the magic of ceremonies, the power of commitment to principles and to meeting the human need. In this unfolding from the heart of joy, the need for sexual intercourse never came to the forefront for the entire duration. It didn't seem to be important enough, even though there was never a denial of our sexual nature and individuality for one minute. In fact, that element became richer because of it.
As it turned out, these more intimate parts of our journey were more deeply connected with the peace project than the political aspects were, and may have been the crucial element for its success later on. I spoke to Nina about Erica and Caracas, and how we all spend a number of nights and days with Erica and her friend talking about Tokomaks and other inertial confinement fusion reactors.
"We talked about creating bridges that would span the oceans made of materials harvested from the mantle of the earth deep below the sea," I said to Nina. I told her that one aspect though, never came to the surface during those days. No one seemed to be interested in sexual intimacies. We were too much in love with each other. "Sure there were sexual intimacies unfolding in a rich and open manner as a part of living together, but there wasn't a need to go beyond them. Our love became focused onto the larger developments."
"Ah, then you were truly married," grinned Nina, "and you didn't even know it."
Mostly, our time with Nina was spent away from the center, checking out reindeer herds in order that we could talk freely about the political subjects that we couldn't dare discuss at the base. It didn't take much to convince Nina that our idea was right, but it was infinitely more difficult to give her the courage to put the idea forward within the hierarchy of the Strategic Rocket Forces. As it turned out, the two weeks we had set aside for this project were indeed needed to get everything squared away.
We had followed the Cozumel protocol in dealing with Nina, where nothing had been planned, where nothing had been hurried, either. This, of course, matched the unhurried manner of the country we were in, where changes appear to be measured in very long periods of time.
This unhurried atmosphere proved to be more productive in the end than we had anticipated. We didn't realize this at the time, but Nina's involvement had opened doors for us that even Nicolai had never passed through.
I had told Antonovna on our previous trip to Siberia, how much I had enjoyed seeing the real Russia. Now, it appeared that Russia was made up of much more than I had ever seen before. Russia became defined to me by its people, by their strength and their fears.
Ushi and I spend another six weeks in Russia after leaving Siberia. We met with as many people as would listen to our advanced ideas and perceptions, even our advanced ideas about marriage. Naturally, the focus was on nuclear war, depopulation, economic issues, and social issues, and on what they meant on the much deeper level. Still, the connection to the development of love and the reality of the marriage of humanity was always maintained in the background, and was even put into the foreground as needed. We would also use Erica's metaphor of the flower garden, as Steve had suggested, to illustrate the problems that are associated with a narrowly focused vision. We would illustrate that in a global perspective the fondi's war against humanity is easily recognizable as an economically motivated war to protect the feudal platform of their looting machine, for which they demand depopulation. We would show that their war was designed to destroy the renaissance spirit of humanity and its platform of sovereign nation-states and their sovereign self-development. We would talk about the vast resources that are available to mankind to create for itself the richest future ever imagined. We would build on the economic concept that Erica and I had developed at the end of the Caracas conference. In a sense, we acted like ambassadors for that conference and for the vision that had been developed there, and for the sublime achievements that were wrought.
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