by Frank Lauria
When he reached the wide busy street, he wasn’t prepared for the noisy bustle of activity facing him. His physical energy was used up and his body moved only out of response to the blind drive to find shelter. To sit down and have a glass of water before he passed out. He moved down the street carefully, like a man who was slightly drunk. He saw Argyle in a cafe and headed for his table, navigating awkwardly.
"What the hell is wrong, Doc?" Argyle said as he half-rose to help Orient into a chair. Orient reached for the glass of orangeade in front of Argyle, gulped it down too quickly and broke into a long spasm of coughing.
"What is it, Doc?" Argyle repeated softly. "Are you hurt?"
Orient shook his head. "I saw Julian."
Argyle grabbed Orient’s wrist. "Where?"
"In the park." Orient jerked his head weakly. "Back there."
Argyle started to get up. "Maybe we can still find him."
"He was with a girl." Orient looked down at his trembling hands. "Someone I know. I couldn’t catch them."
Argyle sat down again. "What happened?"
"My arms and legs couldn’t function. I couldn’t even walk. They ran out of sight."
"How come you couldn’t walk?"
Orient looked up and stared at Argyle for a moment before he answered. "It wasn’t natural. Some ultranormal force. Probably the same force that’s blocking our communication with Julian."
"This girl you know?"
"I think so. She’s a potential. If she’s wielding occult force, she could generate a lot of power."
Argyle paused. "Did you teach her the technique, Doc?"
"The first phase. But she had difficulty picking it up. She seemed to have some other way of sending."
Argyle’s voice was low and edged with anger as he got out of his chair. "What’s she look like?"
"Tall. Blond. Her name is Pia."
Argyle started to move away, then paused. "I’m going to try to catch them. Don’t tell Sun Girl anything yet. She doesn’t understand much about psychic forces and she’d be terrified. Take her back to your hotel. I’ll meet you later."
Orient started to protest, but Argyle moved off, weaving quickly through the cafe tables toward the arched entrance to the park. Orient watched him go and realized he was still too weak to stop him. His friend could be going up against something he couldn’t handle. His temples began to throb as a wave of guilt and exhaustion washed over his thoughts. Pia had control of some force that was extremely powerful. And she’d already shown she could use it to control him. He had killed a man for her.
Orient’s hands still hadn’t stopped trembling by the time Raga arrived. As she approached the table, she saw immediately that something was wrong.
"Darling, you look ill. Are you coming down with something?" Her husky voice was breathless with concern.
"I just saw Julian," Orient said. "With Pia."
Raga’s slender white hand dropped into her lap. "I don’t understand."
"Pia has Julian. I tried to catch her but I couldn’t."
"But Pia’s in Switzerland. Are you sure it was her?"
Orient nodded.
Raga sat back in her chair. "What would Pia be doing with a little boy?" Orient looked at her. "Did you ever know Pia to be experimenting with the occult?"
Her pale lips started to smile, but when she saw that Orient was serious, her yellow eyes widened. "You mean witchcraft and all that?"
"Yes."
Raga stared at him, still unable to decide whether he was serious. "I don’t know," she said slowly, "but it’s possible. Pia was capable of anything that sounded exciting. Is that what you think?"
"I don’t know what to think," Orient said. "I should have gone over Alistar’s papers to make sure." He poured himself a glass of water.
Raga noticed his hand shaking as he brought the glass up to his mouth. "Darling, you’re exhausted," she said softly.
"It’ll pass," Orient said. "Remember not to mention anything to Sun Girl about this until Argyle gets back."
"All right." Raga took a napkin and gently wiped the perspiration from his face. "But I’m worried about you too. This is too much of a strain on you right now."
"I’ll be fine in a little while," Orient said. He wasn’t sure. The ebb of vitality he had felt after his agonizing run hadn’t subsided. He took a deep breath and fought the numbness that was stealing over his arms and legs.
When Sun Girl arrived, Orient found that it took a concentrated effort to negotiate calling a cab and going up to the hotel suite. No one spoke much on the way home but Orient could see, as tired as he himself was, that Sun Girl was straining to keep calm.
As soon as they arrived, Raga called room service for refreshments.
"I don’t want anything, thanks," Sun Girl said, attempting to smile.
She bit her lip, and turned away quickly.
Orient looked at her. Her small face was pinched and pale with tension. The exuberance that was the cornerstone of her expressive beauty had crumbled. Argyle had been right. Sun Girl was on the verge of hysteria. Only the strength of her will was keeping her together.
"It’s going to be okay," he said quietly. "Julian is all right."
Sun Girl turned to him. "I know, Owen. But it’s a deep thing between Julian and me."
Raga sat down and put her arm around Sun Girl’s shoulder. "We won’t give up until we find him." She glanced up at Orient.
"That’s right," he said. He tried to smile but it didn’t come off.
"He’s so little," Sun Girl blurted. She turned and huddled against Raga, crying softly.
Orient stared at his hands and didn’t say anything, knowing that all he could do was just let her cry it out.
She was still clinging to Raga when Argyle came in. As he hurried to Sun Girl’s side, he looked questioningly at Orient. Orient shook his head and Argyle nodded, understanding that Orient hadn’t told her anything about Julian.
"It’s all right, baby," Argyle said as Sun Girl held on to him, sobbing against his shoulder. "We’re gonna find our Julian. I met someone today who may have a lead."
"Who?" Sun Girl looked up wildly. "When can we see them?"
Argyle stroked her hair. "Just a few more hours. I’m not sure. But it’s something. Only, you’ve got to calm down, baby."
Sun Girl shut her eyes tight and nodded slowly, tears running down each side of her face. "I’ll be okay," she said, clenching her teeth. "I’m sorry."
Argyle held her against his chest, rocking her in his arms.
Raga came over to Orient’s chair and leaned close to him. She put her hand on his neck. "Are you all right?" she whispered.
Orient smiled and put his hand on hers. "I’m fine. Just got winded this afternoon. But I feel better now."
Orient wasn’t being entirely candid. If anything, he felt worse than he had a half hour earlier. His heart was pounding and he was still finding it difficult to draw a deep breath.
"Are you hungry? Sandwiches and coffee will be up in a few minutes."
Orient nodded. "Coffee will probably help."
The coffee didn’t help. It was heavy and acidic in his stomach, adding to his discomfort. His hands had stopped trembling but his thoughts were dammed up, squeezing against his brain. He held onto the one fact he felt sure of. Pia was generating the decayed, predatory energy of the presence.
"Doc, why don’t we go inside and try to break through again?" Argyle suggested after they’d eaten.
"All right." When Orient got to his feet, he found that his legs were still wobbly. When they were alone in the bedroom, Argyle grabbed Orient’s arm. "Listen, Doc, you’ve to tell me all you know about his girl Pia."
Argyle’s words broke the dam pressing Orient’s thoughts and they flooded through his brain, drowning out his reason. He sat down heavily in an armchair. He was completely drenched with confusion and guilt. He knew that he couldn’t tell Argyle that he had killed Raga’s husband.
"I met her on a boat coming acros
s," Orient said hesitantly. "She’s a potential. I worked with her for a day or two but then something happened."
"What?" Argyle prodded.
"A girl died. A friend of Pia’s. Then Pia went away with a friend of mine, the boy who shared my cabin. He died too. They both died from a form of negative energy she’s able to generate. I know that now." Orient’s words came slowly and he realized that he wasn’t pronouncing them clearly.
Argyle squinted at him, suddenly concerned. "You okay, Doc?"
"Just worn out from that run after Pia."
"I checked out the whole damn place but there was no sign of a blond with Julian. She must have moved pretty fast to get away from you like that."
Orient shook his head. "She slowed me down with some force. I couldn’t take a step to get near her."
"And you think it’s an occult force." Argyle said it very carefully, watching Orient’s face.
Orient looked up at him. "I know it was. But I don’t know what kind. Unless I can find out it’ll be hard to stop her."
"You think she wants to kill Julian?" Argyle’s voice was low.
Orient looked away. "I don’t know."
"Any way to find out?"
"Maybe." Orient got up from the chair and sat on the floor. "I can try going in to absorb some of the force that Pia’s emanating. Try to get some idea of why it exists."
"You mean we go in and try to absorb the force, don’t you?"
"No," Orient said firmly. "You just feed energy behind me and set up a guide factor. Pia knows we’ll try to break through and she’ll set a trap. If we both try together there’s no chance of recovery. And there’ll be no one to help Julian."
Argyle sat down on the floor facing him. "Then I’ll go in, Doc. You can feed in the energy. You’re not strong enough right now to risk a trance. Even with a guide factor."
Orient nodded. Argyle was right. His vitality was very low. There was no sense risking a trance unless he was strong enough to maintain control. It was a foolish gamble, with pride as the only prize. "All right," he said. "I’ll set up the guide factor. But don’t take any chances at all. This girl is advanced. And she’s a telepath herself."
"I’ll remember," Argyle muttered.
When Orient began the Yang exercises, he found it extremely difficult to lift and bend his limbs with authority during the first phase of the series. He shut his mind to the aching tiredness and pushed his concentration until his body began to respond and his muscles relaxed. With physical control came an increased ability to control his breathing. It took longer than usual, but when he began the Yang meditative series, his low-energy level had started building up to normal.
Orient dug inward, opening his consciousness at the core of his reality, the code gene. He let himself become receptive, then charged active, deliberately propelling the flux of energy pulsing through his universe. When his rhythm of impulse reached the same speed as Argyle’s, the syncopated pulses beveled and their energy merged.
Orient leaned all concentration on the flux. Argyle began to generate more speed, separating from their combined rhythm, and Orient suspended, drawn by Argyle’s hurtling energy orbit and soared behind, like the tail of a comet.
As Argyle soared free, everything was saturated with the bitter density. It was noxious and moist, a thick presence that immediately dosed in around the impulse and choked him off from Argyle’s speeding energy.
He surged forward and secured his contact with Argyle before drawing back, breaking the momentum gradually so the sudden change in speed wouldn’t disconnect their synchronization. The density coiled around his consciousness like a weightless snake, and an atonal twist of panic crushed his will, weakening the steady pulse of their communication.
He pulled back as slowly as he could, until he realized that their communication had snapped and he was alone. He heaved back toward the solid gravitation of his entry point, thrashing desperately against the tendrils of the alien mist...
When he opened his eyes, he saw that Argyle was bending over him. Orient’s temples throbbed with exhaustion and he sensed the odor of the presence clinging to his brain, like slime over his thoughts. He saw from the anxious expression on Argyle’s face that he’d been out for some time.
"You all right, Doc?" Argyle was saying.
"Yeah, fine." Orient took a deep breath. He felt very drowsy and the air seemed thick and damp in his throat.
"You were in suspension a long time. Much longer than I was. I thought something happened."
"I think I pulled back too soon," Orient said. He remembered the oozing panic that shattered the rhythm. The pressing fear.
"Not too soon for me," Argyle said woodenly. "All I felt when I got in there was that choking stuff. I lost my direction. You pulled out steady and sure. I was scrambling." He shook his head and stood
up. "She was waiting for us all right. Without a guide factor it would have been all over."
Orient didn’t answer. He couldn’t seem to focus on Argyle’s words. He just wanted to go to sleep for a few hours. It seemed like weeks since he’d had any rest.
Argyle looked at him. "You’re right, Doc. There is some force being generated. I could taste it."
"Yes," Orient looked at his wrinkled hands. "But what kind of force?"
"I know one thing about it. It eats away energy. We’ve got to get to Julian. If that bitch is responsible for the force, she’s predatory. That stuff starts to kill as soon as it touches you."
"But Julian’s still alive," Orient mused as he fumbled with his weary thoughts, sifting through possibilities. "Maybe there’s some special reason why."
"We just got to find him while he’s still okay," Argyle said.
Orient looked up at the large terrace window. A crescent sliver of moon shone bright in the black sky. He went back over the timing. Janice. A month later Presto. And Alistar Six. A month had passed since that night on Ischia. "That’s it," he said.
"What’s it?"
Orient looked at Argyle. "Pia’s following some kind of cycle. If Julian’s alive it’s only because she’s waiting for the proper time. That’s probably why she didn’t kill the others right away. Perhaps some lunar cycle. Some ritual period." He yawned and clumsily tried to get up.
Argyle held out his hand and pulled him up to a standing position. Orient leaned against a chair. He was dizzy and unable to think about anything anymore except getting to sleep. Every thought he formed was forced to plod wearily through the drowsiness to completion.
"Do we try again this morning like we planned?" Argyle asked.
Orient shook his head. "I don’t think I can cut it. I’m going to get a couple hours’ sleep. I can’t seem to function right now."
Argyle nodded. "Just as well. I don’t feel too sure we can get to Julian unless we find the girl first."
"We’ll comb the city for her," Orient promised. "First thing in the morning. All I need is a little rest."
Orient’s estimation of the time he needed to recover was optimistic. He was awakened briefly by Raga the next morning. She was kissing him gently, rousing him from a deep dreamless sleep. "I’m going out with Sun Girl and Argyle," she whispered. "I’ll be back soon. Rest until then. You were so exhausted last night, you fell asleep with your clothes on."
Orient tried to understand what she was saying but he was still half asleep. He had a blurred recollection of her yellow eyes and white skin near his face and her silver hair brushing his neck.
"Wake me up when you get back," he mumbled. He was asleep again before she had left the bed.
When he awoke again, he could hear the telephone ringing. He blinked and looked around. He was alone. His brain was still numb and his body ached. The phone continued to ring. He tried to take a deep breath and reach across the few feet to the receiver but he couldn’t complete either act. A wave of dizziness forced his head back onto the pillow. He made an effort to move but it felt as if someone were sitting on his chest, pinning him against the mattress. What littl
e air he got into his lungs was stale and oppressive. The phone stopped ringing.
He closed his eyes and began drifting back into the yearning sleep when a realization of what was happening to him splashed against his mind.
Orient opened his eyes and rolled over, pushing himself up with both arms against the ponderous weight on his body. He grabbed for the telephone, knocking it over. When he finally picked up the dangling receiver, he falteringly asked the clerk to send up a bottle of mineral water and saltshaker.
It took a great strain of will to get himself out of the bed, stumble to the window, and open it wide. It didn’t help. The air was still inert and heavy on his lungs. He leaned against the wall, waiting for the waiter to arrive and charging his drained will to fight back against the enclosing numbness. He understood that Pia was directing her influence on him as she had on the others, attacking him with the full force of the parasitic mist. He had to defend himself against the relentless vibration that was sapping his last ebbs of energy.
He dozed off on his feet but the door buzzer nudged him awake. He started weaving to the next room, using the furniture to support himself as he moved painfully toward the door.
The waiter handed Orient the tray with a puzzled expression and asked him twice if he was sure that was his correct order. Orient assured him it was, and shut the door. As he carried the tray to the table, he felt the dizziness pounding at his balance again and barely managed to place the tray down before falling back onto the couch.
His only defense against Pia’s psychic attack was the ancient formulas handed down from races that existed before the first civilization of Egypt. And the simple ingredients on the tray, salt and water, were the chemistry of those formulas.
It seemed to take him a long time to pour the water into a glass and unscrew the cap from the saltshaker and dump the contents into the water. He was using the simplest and most effective agents for purifying the room of unnatural energy. Water, for its electrical properties, and salt because as a crystalline earth element it had the ability to absorb excess magnetism, the same way that onions absorb poisonous gas when placed in a coal mine.
He stood up and put his hand over the glass of water. "I exorcise thee creature of earth, by the omnipotent good," he rasped, "that thou may be purified of all evil influence in the name of Adonai."
