"Kamar Taj. Do you know a place called Kamar Taj?"
It was the hundredth time Bruce was asking only to get weird looks from the native Nepalese men. The women in this place promptly ran away when he posed the same question as if he was carrying something contagious. The people around him on the busy street were looking at him as if he was a monkey in a zoo.
'Well… I'm one of a kind around this place.' Bruce thought amusedly.
It was strange in a way. He had been wandering around the capital of Nepal in search of the place known as Kamar Taj for the last week. Strangely, he was developing a sense of kinship with the place. The bright colours around the streets were an eyeful of cultural shock that he was yet to get used to. However, he liked seeing all those decorations, handicrafts and flowers on full display. Temples and monasteries with beautiful carvings and strange rituals involving flowers were an everyday sight. The whole street was decorated with a variety of flowers and some people made a living out of selling flowers.
Bruce had even brought a pack of Jasmine flowers. He couldn't help himself, and he found the smell particularly calming for some reason. Thankfully, the whole set of Jasmine flowers was corked on a yarn, which allowed him to tie it around his wrist. So whenever he felt the urge, he could take a whiff of the flowers tied to his wrist, and that'd calm his nerves. Another advantage was that no one recognised him, which was relaxing. He was not a wanted terrorist in Nepal.
His search continued but so far, no luck. It was a bit difficult to find someone who could understand him. And when he found someone who spoke English, they were ignorant of Kamar Taj's location. At one point, Bruce even began to doubt Cerion's claim of Kamar Taj's existence. Still, he found no reason for Cerion to lie.
He resumed the search and launched it from a tea shop. The struggle he had to go through to ask for tea from the guy was phenomenal. Even so, he learned the local word for tea—chai. His search lasted all the way to sunset, and yet he was no closer to finding the place.
Tired of wandering around, he found a high vantage point over a building to get a good look at the place. Up in the sky, the sun was slowly retreating from the horizon. Bruce let out a tired sigh and decided to find someplace for him to stay. He took one last look at the placid orange sun in the sky before turning around, only to startle and take a hasty step back. He nearly fell down if it wasn't for a hand that grabbed his shoulder and steadied him.
"Thanks." he muttered, trying to calm his heart.
"You're welcome, Dr Banner."
Bruce was taken aback by the hooded figure's apparent familiarity. He tried to peek inside, but he didn't get a good look. He needn't have bothered, as the man swept back his hood.
If Bruce was expecting a Nepalese man, he was way off his mark. Instead, he was met by a man of African descent with an American accent.
"Wait! How did you know my name?" Bruce asked, now feeling a bit defensive, especially when he connected the accent to his homeland.
"You are full of questions Dr Banner. You are the one who sought us out. It'd be strange for us to not know the identity of a person who has been asking around about us, don't you think?"
"Who are you again?" asked Bruce, frowning at the evasive answers.
"You may call me Mordo. If you wish to seek Kamar Taj then follow me."
Bruce stared after the man's swift exit from the building for a moment before he decided to follow. Not that he trusted the guy but what choice did he have?
Bruce found himself sitting opposite a bald woman in colourful golden robes after an hour of traversing through the busy streets of Kathmandu. The other dude named Mordo who was apparently a teacher in this sanctum was standing behind the bald woman. The more time he spent with these two the more he was coming to terms that Cerion must have concocted an elaborate prank on him.
"Tell me your name again?" he asked, eyeing the bald woman for any hints of deceit.
"You may call me Ancient One." the woman said serenely.
"Right…Right!" Bruce shook his head, while cursing up a storm inside his mind for being saddled with two loonies, "So, you can help me control my mind and teach me meditation, right?"
"That depends Dr Banner." the woman said with an air of mystery around her.
"On what?"
"Are you seeking to assimilate or destroy your alter-ego?" the bald woman asked.
Bruce froze upon hearing that. "You know of my…"
"Yes, Bruce. I know what you are. It is only natural for you to fear the unknown, but I think you'll be surprised to learn there are far too many secrets in our Universe," said the Ancient One, smiling serenely at him.
To Bruce's further surprise, the Ancient One offered him an empty cup. He took the cup into his hands, feeling confused. Then the Ancient One snapped her fingers over the cup, making his eyes widen. The cup magically began to fill up with tea.
"Wha…What was that? How did that happen?" he spluttered in shock.
"As I said, Bruce. There are many secrets to the Universe. If you are willing to open your mind, then I shall teach you all that you need to know."
Bruce felt like his faculties had cheated him. He blinked many times to see whether he was hallucinating. But the cup in his hand remained full of tea, and he could even smell its sweet aroma. He took a peek at Mordo, who also did not look the least bit surprised and was instead appraising him.
"What is this place? Who are you guys?" Bruce asked, looking around the old monastery with more awareness.
"We are members of the Order of Mystic Arts charged to protect what you experience as the reality. I believe you still have many questions."
'You don't say.' Bruce thought blandly, eyeing the Ancient One and Mordo.
He wondered what Cerion was doing, and he also felt the urge to have some choice words with his alien friend for not giving the full picture before dropping him off in a foreign country with a bunch of wizards.
XXXXXX
This was not exactly how Cerion hoped to spend this weekend. Now that Bruce was spending the week in the care of Ancient One and her students, he had hoped to get some alone time to spend with Jane. They had even planned a trip to Paris and from there to Manchester. He had even bought tickets for a soccer game, but all those plans were derailed by a single man.
If it had been Fury or Pierce, he could have easily dismissed them and rescheduled the meeting at his leisure. But when the President of the United States of America asked for a meeting, he could not decline that easily. The man, after all, made sure his citizenship remained intact, and he needed access to America's manufacturing might and supply chains to restore his ship.
He could've asked for a polite reschedule, but he believed in 'respect the position not the man'. While it was an earthly byproduct of his psyche, he still held that belief in Krypton, and he found no reason not to employ the same doctrine on Marvel Earth. The leader of the United States was more deserving of respect as he was an elected member of the executive branch of government. In Krypton, there were no elections but selections based on bloodlines.
So, when he was asked by President Josiah Thicket for a meeting he cancelled all his plans to meet the 43rd President of the United States. Strangely enough, the meeting was not in the oval office nor was the President alone. The Secretary of State Jonathan McGill was also present.
"Mr President, Mr Secretary. It is an honour to meet you both."
Cerion shook hands with the two men. After exchanging some pleasantries, the three of them were seated in three white chairs around a round glass table on the lawn of the White House. The first thing he did was to scan the area for any recording devices. Thankfully, nothing showed up on his scan, but there were some agents positioned strategically around the place, armed and ready.
"First of all, let me thank you on behalf of the US government and the people of our great country for aiding us in our darkest hours." said President Thicket.
Cerion didn't feel like showing any faux humility, so he merely nodded to get the conversation going. He was sure there was more than that single incident at play.
"We would have awarded you with a medal of honour, but the nature of your involvement remains classified on a strict need-to-know basis. Even I was kept in the dark about your existence until last week," said Secretary McGill, taking a sip from his coffee cup.
"It is understandable, Mr Secretary. I have no complaints." said Cerion.
Of course, he had no complaints. Why would he? It was to his advantage to remain incognito and far away from public scrutiny. A medal of honour was not worth the trouble it'd bring on his head.
"That's good. Your interference has given the American public hope, and in the dark days ahead, they need a ray of hope. And I believe you can be that ray of hope." said Secretary McGill.
Now, that didn't sit very well with him.
"What do you mean?" Cerion asked, looking flabbergasted.
"The public believes an angel intervened in defence of America. This puts our nation on the side of God. We want you to reinforce this idea." said President Thicket, who was now leaning forward in his seat.
Cerion looked from Secretary McGill to President Thicket, and both men were deadly serious about their suggestion.
"You two have to be joking. Why would you think I'd be willing to deceive the people like this?"
"If we had a choice in the matter, Mr. Vex, we would not have asked for a scheme like this. Please understand that our nation is going to step into an era of uncertainty in a year or so. We need something to bind the people together despite their political differences. What better way to do so than religion?"
Cerion could think some seven other ways off the top of his head.
"Before you say no, please have a look at this file," said President Thicket, offering a thin file that he took into his hand and began glossing over.
It turns out it was an intelligence briefing specific for the President's eyes only.
"Isn't this confidential?" he asked hesitantly, but his eyes remained on the lines.
"It is, but there are times when rules become shackles. Please read on," said President Thicket, leaning back while silently observing him.
Cerion eyed the two men sharply before going back to read the report. The report highlighted the enemy assets and the fallout in the event of a war between the United States and the enemy nations. If war was to be pursued, there was going to be a global energy crisis. According to this report, it was almost unavoidable, mainly because the US government was not planning a war with Iraq. Rather, it was with Saudi Arabia, Qatar, and al-Qaida, which means a renewed push in Afghanistan was also on the list.
"You are planning to go to war with three nations?" he asked incredulously.
"We hope not. War will be the last option only to be pursued if our demands are not met." said President Thicket rather stiffly.
'Yeah, right! They are planning to bomb these nations back to the Stone Age anyway,' Cerion mused while focusing on the file.
He could see the political angle these two gentlemen were playing. But, for the moment, he set that aside as he saw a unique opportunity in this debacle waiting to unravel. War was most likely inevitable, but he could see how this situation could be used to benefit the planet and his own interests as a whole. The United States alone holds a 20 metric tons per capita CO2 emission and that was excluding all hard industries and construction works. Going through the projected energy crisis and knockback effects that would kick in once oil stopped flowing in the international market, he could see a unique opportunity here.
The war in a distant land also meant less scrutiny on companies that worked in the defence industry. The opportunity to break into defence contracts would give him legal means to access materials that he usually used unscrupulous ways to gain.
However, he was not exactly sold on the idea of playing dress-up for a bunch of politicians without some incentives from their side.
"Just out of sheer curiosity, what do you expect me to do?" he asked amicably to gauge what he was stepping into.
The two politicians looked at each other in mild surprise before turning their attention back on Cerion. However, it was President Thicket who spilt the beans.
"A better part of the public believes an angel intervened during the attacks. We want to ensure there is no doubt about this claim. In fact, we want to reinforce the idea that God is on our side so we need you to make an appearance from time to time."
Cerion mulled that over in his head. "I can't agree to anything that would expose my identity."
"Oh, heavens no!" Secretary McGill immediately intervened. "You don't have to expose your face to the public. You just have to show yourself to the general public at key moments without exposing your identity."
That was doable, and he could think of a dozen ways to shield his identity from the general public. Keeping that in mind, he eyed the President, who was sitting at the edge of his seat with palatable excitement.
"I took you for a religious man Mr President. Aren't you worried about deceiving people and the obvious retribution from God?"
It was an immensely personal question that called out the bullshit most politicians spout when they invoke religion. However, his aim was not to disparage the man but rather to see whether he would get an honest answer. The question was hard to circumvent, especially with the topic of their discussion.
President Thicket let out a sigh and leaned back in his chair, staring coolly at Cerion.
"According to the briefing papers I got from SHIELD, I am sitting here speaking amicably with an alien from another galaxy. I don't think any God is going to smite me for doing what I am doing. If God hasn't smitten me to this day, then I don't believe there is any reason for that to change tomorrow or in the future, for that matter."
Cerion eyed the President amusedly as a smile slowly began to creep up over his face. He could read between the lines to see where the President stood on religion. In a way, he approved the man's uncanny ability to put an act before the public. In his opinion, a good politician must be competent in lying through their teeth, so long as those lies don't compromise too much on the political spectrum and the interest of the polity they represent. Besides, he'd take pragmatic two-faced politicians over theocratic loons. The previous regime of Krypton before they were overthrown gave him the creeps, and he never wanted to associate with such people. They had brought only ruin upon the noble house of Vex.
"Your answer is enough to let me know that you are a politician first and foremost. You will get immense political brownie points by pulling the wool over your constituents if we pull off this stunt. Now, let's discuss what I want in return for my part in the continuation of this government in 2004 elections."
He could envision plans upon plans, the endless possibilities this unlikely alliance was going to bring him. All he had to do to accelerate some of his long-term plans was cosplay as an angel. This was the sweetest deal he could ever hope for, and he could hold onto the promises made by these two old politicians. And if they manage to deliver even half of what he had in mind, he wouldn't mind helping them out to get re-elected a second time.
In the end, everything was a means to an end.