The Schedule of Víhaan

John Clark Smith

A Novel in Verse by John Clark Smith

1 The Remnant

Wherein the underground group the Remnant

reacts to their recent failure

to acquire the AI program The Schedule

from its nemeses Hydra and Dvorak,

or to convince Víhaan, its creator, to join them.

 

In a room of their small Andaman Island headquarters,

the main core of the covert group Remnant sullenly sat.

Udaki their leader, her white hair in a ponytail,

her blue eyes as striking as they were as a young woman,

walked in bare feet in a flowery floor-length loose-fitting dress

around the long narrow table three times without speaking,

thinking how they had failed to secure the AI program

The Schedule, or lure Víhaan, its creator, to their side.

Her people stared at her, awaiting an effective plan.

There sat Mustfarris, with a head of curly golden hair,

in frameless round glasses with muscular arms and thick neck;

and Aaron, a movie star before joining the Remnant,

a tall, well-groomed man with black hair, large eyes, a chiseled face,

in a black linen shirt buttoned to the neck, its sleeves rolled;

and Hután, a clean-shaven face with dimples, a black haired

Malaysian, with expressive brown eyes and a broad nose,

in blue jeans and a casual, long-sleeved tan shirt, who moved

like Nijinsky, looked like Giacometti’s “Diego”

—in Mustfarris’s own description—but appeared much younger,

gentler, meeker, even less experienced than he was,

with such an inquiring mind they nicknamed him ‘Herr Warum’

after Gödel;[1] he slumped in the normal place of Carina,

a gorgeous green-eyed brunette with a silky voice and skin,

whose alluring body and manners always distracted

everyone, including Hután, Aaron, and Mustfarris.

All were there reviewing what had brought them to this moment,

how Hydra and Dvorak, nemeses of the Remnant,

seemed to control Víhaan and The Schedule, and the Remnant

needed a cunning countermove to regain the advantage.

Hydra—the massive, grassroots, ubiquitous, group that lived

by its own rules and hated authority, unconcerned

about using The Schedule to oppose or serve others

or about the covert details it would share—wanted it

because they didn’t want anyone else to control it;

while Dvorak eagerly sought it to interfere with

and increase its influence over the affairs of states

through extortion, threats, bribery, or assassination.

Yet beyond The Schedule, two abductions were on their minds:

the field commander Carina and Aaron’s friend Fisha,

whose abduction triggered Aaron’s fury by an endless

and muddled rant to bring urgent action on her behalf,

I’m going after them, you know I am.

Hydra abducted a dear friend, someone

who tried to save my wife and was crippled.

If you think I’ll let Hydra walk away

when they have treated her so cruelly!

They do this and yet still keep The Schedule?

I’ll going to get them, I don’t care, even

if The Schedule thinks way ahead of us…

a speech to which none of them chose to offer a response,

not because they disagreed or didn’t want to join him

or were puzzled about where exactly he was going.

They sympathized with him and were unhappy and displeased

with how they were deceived and how Hydra seemed to triumph.

None of them wanted to ignore the fact that their mission

to control The Schedule crumbled at Pitworthy’s castle,

even though Udaki, an optimist when possible,

argued on one level it could be seen as a success

because of information the group gained about Víhaan.

If Víhaan would go to such dangerous

lengths, she said, it’s likely he was going

to such lengths for significant reasons

Hydra and Dvorak find important;

which explains why she didn’t consider Aaron’s mission

to pursue and catch Víhaan and Hydra undeserving

despite his arrogant and defiant tone and approach.

But chasing Hydra or Víhaan only from such revenge

with no plan in place was never her methodology.

They needed more to proceed than Udaki’s one lead—

she had obtained the location of Víhaan in Paris—

a lead that resulted because Udaki continued

to have someone watch after others thought Víhaan had left.

The asset was watching and witnessed Víhaan scamper out

from an attic side window to the roof, and from the roof

enter another window, come out of another shop,

then travel to Paris, 38 Rue de Sévigné,

an address across from the Carnavalet Museum.

This scrap of information might lead the Remnant forward.

It might be the slit of light that made Udaki expect

a greater light was worth pursuing behind it somewhere.

Yet should she include Aaron, with such intense emotions,

after hearing his whining and insistent call for revenge?

It’s obvious,

she instead chose to calm him with a kind maternal tone,

The Schedule guides Víhaan

and has its own reasons for its actions,

but regardless of those secret reasons,

we know too little about The Schedule,

and we must above all avoid guessing.

But whatever its reasons, there’s no sign

Víhaan gave anyone control of it.

If he did, why then did Hydra react

in the way it did when it had Víhaan

and could enable him in his own plot                   

to obstruct us? And why did he head off

to Paris in a clandestine fashion--

at which point Aaron interrupted and quickly bellowed:

We know he’s in Paris, know where he is?

Why are we sitting talking about it?

He’s the link to bring the whole Hydra down.

to which Udaki, knowing the pain Aaron was feeling

leaned over to him, placed her hand on him, and gently said,

Be patient. All will become clear soon enough.

Let’s ask Hután. He’ll offer some options.

And hearing his name drew Hután away from deep concerns

tearing his mind in two, one side (most of his mind in truth)

slithering into a familiar and unwelcome time—

as his thoughts often did when he became too despondent

from a failed mission that was his responsibility—

a sad time that occurred after he returned from a meeting

like this meeting, when Rita his wife had a heart attack,

even though Rita had no heart problems, was fit and healthy.

Yet without warning her heart collapsed, the coroner said,

with no other explanation, dropped dead, alone at home.

Hután asked her sister to come and stay while he was away,

but the country roads confused her, and she arrived too late

and found Rita dead—dead from fear, her sister scolded him—

and wouldn’t forgive Hután for letting Rita live there

surrounded by wild things, there alone, just to please Hután,

when he knew the secluded country house terrified her

so much and she felt so isolated and afraid

she shook each night from the sounds in the dark forest.

She grew up a city girl accustomed to urban noise.

Rita, her sister scolded Hután, was not Tatyana.[2]

Rita did not complain when she moved away from the city,

and he did not believe such a beautiful soul belonged

in the city, her heart was a sensitive and open

creature that should wander among the valleys and mountains,

streams and woods, hear the blue jays, smell the scent of wildflowers.

He grieved for her, envisioned how lonely was her last hours,

her suffering chilling his soul as he boldly withstood

the blast of Aaron’s blustering and bullying voice

interrupting the tense thoughts of Hután’s bipolar mind

fully consumed with regret and harsh self-criticism

as he relived his mistakes in pursuing The Schedule

on Pitworthy’s island, Piraeus, and then Assisi,

picking away at details, creating lists of options

in his captious way after a disappointing mission

where his plan became a shameful strategic fiasco

due to his failure to read the true motives of Víhaan.

Hután was reviewing the mission from his first choices

and considering other options he could have chosen

while ignoring the meeting till he heard Udaki’s voice

resounding in his ear, What should we do about Víhaan?

a problem Hután, Aaron, and Mustfarris debated

on the boat ride back to Andaman through the dreary night.

So Hután grasped the problem and joined the conversation

in an intentionally sententious voice to dilute gently

Aaron’s imperious tone, though he feared it might annoy him:

Think what Marcus Aurelius has said,

“whatever befalls you, was prepared for

you,”[3] and we’ll see our role in the bigger

process and--

to which Aaron—standing and banging the back of his chair

with his hand, producing a raucous sound like a gunshot,

driving the chair into the table, spilling drinks and plates

and shocking them all—furiously shouted at Hután,

--you don’t know, do you? Marcus?

That philosopher stuff is just a screen

because you don’t know. Who cares what Marcus

Aurelius said? But Hydra knows, don’t

they? They know enough to abduct women

like Fisha and Carina, right? Both gone.

And this Víhaan can hold so much control,

so much power and then act upon it

as he wants. But you, you don’t know a thing.

Perhaps we’ll find a strategist who sees

how to help us, who doesn’t need to hide

behind philosophers--

as he spoke Hután stood up from his chair, grabbed some towels

and threw them down to the place where the liquids fell, then said:

--I invite you

to find someone--

at which Udaki intervened, worried by Aaron’s tone,

--we’re not finding someone.

We’ll carefully consider our options

and how we should best achieve those options.

Patience and honesty and delay

is needed because no path is simple,

no solution cries out to us. Perhaps

Marcus Aurelius writes worthily?

Perhaps a greater process blinds its truth

and we must adapt better than we have.

This is a time of great indecision,

and it’s an uncomfortable posture

even though it’s strange to be ignorant,[4]

especially for us, but that’s our task

and how perhaps we’ll realize the truth.

We’re dealing with a rogue, a one-man show

who thinks his possession of The Schedule

can resolve the world’s problems by itself.

Yet he will fail, as do all rogues. They must.

—are you listening, Aaron?—They must fail

because they work alone and have no trust.

We know where he is, but will he trust us? 

She became dizzy, her breathing heavy, her right arm shook.

All were concerned. Hután helped her to a chair, Aaron brought

a glass of water. Udaki drank, took a deep breath, sighed,

a few times nodded she was fine, gestured to Mustfarris

to help, the one she often chose with Carina absent

and she no longer had the strength or will when tensions rose

to chair meetings too bellicose for her to wield her weight.

In the early stages of the meetings, they shared their thoughts

while Hután would wait, listen, suggest, and deliberate,

avoiding single apodictic suggestions and plans,

slowly gathering as many options as he could use,

a method that helped fuel the chaos and frustration,

since Hután’s caution and pondering and endless doubting

tended to rile all except Udaki and Carina.

In matters so complex and consequential, Udaki

favored careful, thoughtful, analytical processes,

and knew that Hután was the most perspicacious agent,

while Carina, beyond an unspoken love for Hután,

tended to support him from his greater experience,

believing over time he was the best horse to bet on,

a lesson proven on a few occasions when she bet

against him, like the time they were helping a fragile state

escape control from a large nation-state, and the Remnant

supported the candidate the nation-state disapproved.

But Hután believed—and his view ended up being sound—

the socialist movement was at an immature stage—

like the Bolsheviks in the Russian Revolution

who ended up completing few of their initial plans

and became as much a tyranny as the Tsarist reign.

But when these conflicts and delays in the meetings happened,

while Hután deliberated, Mustfarris was chosen

and stepped forward to become the patient mediator

who, if judged on appearances and character alone,

didn’t look like a chairperson or the intelligent

wily artist he was, but a quiet man, lacking verve

except in the field, more like a wrestler or bodyguard

waiting for action. While the person you’d think would command,

who often stood in a commanding posture, a man

who gave the impression of someone giving an order,

the only one in the group who looked like, and acted like,

a born leader—but no one wanted to lead—was Aaron.

Udaki learned to depend on the arm of Carina,

who could have led the group and no one would have objected,

but preferred to sit there restive, saying very little,

or, given the chance, slink to the corner of the table

as if absent, with no urge to be the chair or command.

Her talent was always in the field, where she ruled along

with her deputy, the Syrian giant Mustfarris

(though she often had to prove her skills surpassed her beauty).

But today Udaki couldn’t depend on Carina.

Carina was absent, abducted in Assisi,

her empty chair another error weighing on Hután.

Yet of all of them there, to judge by appearance alone,

no observer would think that Mustfarris would be the Chair,

but on Udaki’s request he often would lead the group

not only for her but because no one wanted Aaron.

Mustfarris joked, to cool the tense and heated atmosphere,

If everyone prayed every day to Saint

Joseph, everything would be fine…[5]

and everyone laughed at the line from an old Spanish film

except for stone-faced Aaron, who hated Buñuel movies.

How can we find a way to infiltrate

Víhaan’s life, know his motivations and plans?

and as he asked this question, the group took account

of each other and excluded those Víhaan recognized

—Hután, Carina, and Aaron due to his fame in film.

Udaki surprised the group by volunteering herself.

Mustfarris and she would take roles as old family friends

in Víhaan’s apartment building and would make first contact,

Hután would live elsewhere, out of sight, watching, always there

for his strategic mind and extensive experience.

Carina—once she returns—would be the field manager.

Aaron, who expected a part and received none, complained.

Udaki sadly shook her head. No role had come to mind,

yet due to his emotional response she was certain

he would find a way to involve himself and must be warned:

If you jeopardize or exacerbate

the plan by your desire to seek revenge,

I’ll ask Mustfarris to escort you back.

We’re not pursuing Hydra, is that clear?

In fact, we’ve never targeted Hydra.

We try our best to stop collateral

or the causes of the situations

in which Hydra flourishes, but Hydra?

Never itself, for several reasons

you should know without an explanation.

Now it isVíhaan. Now it’s The Schedule.

That’s our target: find, capture, disable,

The Schedule or convince Víhaan to help.

To which Aaron said, still angry, walking around the room,

Maybe you’re not going after Hydra.

I am, one damn member at a time,

to which Mustfarris replied before Udaki could speak,

You mustn’t let passion set you “breast deep

in earth”[6] and famish your good name, Aaron.

We can’t stop or eliminate Hydra

one member at a time when there’s hardly

a patch on this earth without a member.

You know this. Hydra is ordinary

people with a similar mission, not

a band of trained spies or professionals.

Taking Hydra down could mean taking down

your next-door neighbor, maybe the fellow

who serves you at your favorite café,

which proves, if you must abolish Hydra,

don’t think about going after members,

go after the need and cause for Hydra.

In response Aaron went up to Mustfarris’ eyes and growled

I don’t need your permission to stop them,

and Aaron knew, of course, that Mustfarris wasn’t at fault

but his ire ruled him now because Udaki passed him by.

There’s no ‘permission’ involved. You know that.

Our personal lives are far behind us.

Gone forever. You knew that when you joined.

Repress your sentiments for family

and friends. You know there’s danger for patrons

like Fisha. Any can be compromised.

Patrons shall always be vulnerable.

Stop the endless whining about your wife.

We’re very sorry. Tragedy happens

to us all. Calm down. Let Udaki

assign the roles she thinks will serve us best.

We need now a rational, workable,

plan, not a vendetta causing trouble.

A vendetta answers harm with more harm,

a tactic Socrates promised would fail.[7]

And hearing this speech, Aaron, not phlegmatic by nature,

became so incensed he prepared to strike at Mustfarris

and finally did strike. But that was unwise for Aaron,

though the group half-expected him to strike after hearing

Mustfarris’ speech, since he was saying what they were thinking.

Yet because Mustfarris was the Hercules among them,

when Aaron swung his fist, Mustfarris stepped back quickly, grabbed

the fist before it struck him, and held it, not letting go:

Whom are you attacking right now, Aaron?

at which point he released the fist and Aaron backed away,

and Mustfarris returned to his seat to play pocket Go

and clear his mind, he would say, of the noises of desire—

a task his Sufi guru had recommended for him.

This kind of confrontation with Aaron was often stopped

by Carina, even though she would sit with her eyes closed

in the meetings daydreaming about that golden moment

when she first met Hután at a ball; he dressed in a black

tux with blue lapels and she in a long sleeveless pink silk

gown scattered with diamonds on the arm of someone employed

by her benefactor. Hután was there for the Remnant,

she was again being introduced to nobility

and wealth for reasons never known to her, but she complied

from respect and appreciation for what her gracious

and mysterious benefactor had bestowed on her:

elite instruction at the hands of tutors and coaches,

private training in numerous skills and sports, including

survivalist and martial arts, several languages,

and many sciences, including advanced computer

and medical knowledge. One day, she hoped, even expected,

her preparation would mean something useful to others

and herself. An escort would dance with her to protect her

with very precise instructions on how to dance with her

and intentionally seem as bored and nervous as she:

Be gentlemanly, kind, and nothing more

or dire penalties would quickly result.

Or that was what one of these escorts confidently told

her after a mild kiss at her sixteenth birthday party

when he left her in the hands of the two mighty giants

who watched her and returned her to the castle near Lucerne,

where a staff of five servants and tutors looked after her,

none of whom knew more than she about her benefactor.

But she never would have danced with Hután if Prince Andres

didn’t first ask her to dance first and her protectors offer

their approval—and why not, wasn’t this a Prince? Neither

they nor she could have known that Andres was an assassin

for Dvorak, which threatened Carina’s benefactor

for many years with slanderous words and violent acts,

all without success; and now had turned its revenge

on the innocent protégé with a plan to kill her.

Watching Andres’ actions was Hután, who interrupted,

grabbed Carina’s waist and hand, and waltzed away, whispering,

Don’t let Prince Andres touch you or you’ll die,

released and walked away, but not before she saw his eyes

and heard his voice, and felt his assured hand upon her hand,

and fell in love with the man who waltzed with her, a moment

dreamed every day like in a fairy tale, though his few words

frightened her and she ran to her giants—as Hután hoped—

and told them what Hután had whispered, and the paranoid

giants took her away from the ballroom and chaperoned

her home. Carina would use this example of sweeping

in and protecting when confronting Aaron at meetings

by walking up to his face, staring at him, and would shout,

What are you doing, thinking our goals

could center on what’s best for you or me,

as if you can swing your way out of this,

well go ahead, swing, swing at me, go ahead,

and Aaron would wave his hand in surrender, smile, sit down,

knowing he was no match for Carina or Mustfarris,

to whom he apologized for his comments and actions.

But this time, they all knew, the situation was different.

There was no Carina to intervene, her voice was still,

so Udaki herself stepped between them and said calmly,

I think I have a role for you, Aaron.

First! Hután! Provide us with your viewpoint,

let’s hear how your plan and strategy will

get us on track and solve this maze for us.

At which point Mustfarris, still playing at the Go board, said,

Let’s hope it’s less Nancarrow, more Liszt?[8]

No one knew what he meant, but it mocked Hután’s complex plans.

Hután reviewed their faces waiting for needed guidance,

and pondered what an embarrassing mess his plan had created,

I’ll tell you after I find Carina

and can review the events and people

that caused our unholy situation.

And off he went to close his eyes, replay each wrongful step,

see the rips and gaps and errors of his many options,

analyze the characters who made it fail, and return

to when the Remnant began its pursuit of The Schedule,

when he sat alone at the long black marble counter

in the small castle on an island off Italy’s coast.

---

[1] Artist Alberto Giacometti (1901-1966), dancer Vaslav Nijinsky (1889-1950). Logician Kurt Gödel (1906-1978) was called Herr Warum (Mr. Why) by his family.
[2] Tatyana is one of the characters in the verse novel Eugene Onegin by Alexander Pushkin (1799-1837), Tatyana believed she lost her freedom and happiness when they dragged her from the country to the city of Moscow to find a suitable spouse.
[3] Marcus Aurelius (121-180), Meditations, Book X.
[4] From the poem, “Ignorance” by Philip Larkin (1922-1985)
[5] A reference to the 1974 film, “The Phantom of Liberty” of Luis Buñuel (1900-1983).
[6] Aaron in Act 3, Sc.3, of “Titus Andronicus” by Shakespeare (ca. 1564-1616) was exposed “breast deep in earth” and starved.
[7] Socrates/Plato (ca. 428-348 BCE), Crito, 49c/d.
[8] The piano works of Franz Liszt (1811-1886) are difficult but possible, whereas the compositions of Conlon Nancarrow (1912-1997) are mostly unplayable except by piano rolls.

 

---

Setu, March 2025