Nirvana Effect

by Craig Gehring

  He forced his eyes to dilate further as he ran, so that he could pick up motion more easily but caught less detail. Edward didn’t feel the fear he’d felt during his first nighttime race into the jungle. Rather, he felt calm, detached, as though he were playing a game of cat and mouse.

  He heard moving water, some sort of stream. He kept following the branches whipping back, the leaves waving under the moonlight. It was harder to hear the footsteps and the boy’s path because of the water, but he could still make it out.

  He started being able to hear the boy’s breathing. Edward was getting closer, still, but the jungle was growing thicker. He strained his eyes to catch a glimpse of that boy’s dirty shirt and dark skin.

  The finer calculations of his predicament were starting to enter rapidly into Edward’s mind.

  The spear. That flash of metal had been a spear. He had to keep the boy on the run, or else Edward might have Tomy’s weapon run through his gut.

  Edward heard Tomy shout. He was close. Edward lunged through a wall of brush, pushing hard into the jungle floor for more leverage.

  There was no leverage. His foot pumped through the empty air.

  He gasped. His right leg plunged downward. His left knee smashed into the ground and then he was flipping in the air. Directly below was water shimmering by the moon. It was a thirty foot drop to a rocky bed. The jungle stream had carved a gorge into the bedrock.

  Edward stopped time. At least, that was how his sense channels perceived it. He could think so much more rapidly than the events unfolding that he may as well have been suspended in the air for an hour. His mind took in everything. The rocks below. Tomy on the ground near the water, hurt, dragging himself up. The spear on the other side of the water.

  The stream was shallow and only a few yards wide. There was no sense in landing in it.

  The roots. They projected out from the other side of the gorge. They were insubstantial, but his only shot at avoiding injury. He could reach them. He spotted a long, fat root hanging out from the other side about ten feet down. He extended his body out of his aerial roll to catch it.

  The root creaked, but he stopped his fall.

  Below, the boy started moving away in a gimpy sprint, cradling his arm. The way he moved reminded Edward of the beggar boy. He’d been the beggar boy. Edward hadn’t recognized him in the shirt, with his dirty skin and his hair so much in his face. Tomy was picking up speed. Edward kept his eyes locked on him, adjusting his grip on the root.

  It started to give. Edward’s hands slipped as the root bent down towards the stream. The root was too moist to really grip well. He saw another root ten feet below, but it was too far downstream to reach.

  The root gashed his hands, but he willed himself to hold on long enough to swing slightly downstream. He fell.

  Edward caught the next root, but only for a moment before he dropped down to the creek bed. He landed hard. The whole bed of the gorge was rock.

  Had he not been trancing, the impact even from twenty feet up would have knocked him out. Instead, he willed himself through, rolling toward where he’d last seen Tomy and launching forward.

  Tomy had slipped out of sight. Edward raced along the bank, moving much more rapidly with firm ground underfoot and every muscle working in perfect harmony under the trance.

  He didn’t feel any of the exertion he’d just gone through. He could tap into the pain of it if he so desired; he didn’t so desire. I could probably will myself to sprint until I drop dead. Gotta make sure I don’t overdo it.

  The gorge stretched long and straight. He could see far ahead, but no saw no sign of Tomy. He must have gotten out somehow.

  There. Edward almost passed it - a steep yet navigable slope out of the gorge. Edward climbed up, back into the jungle.

  He tuned his ears to every sound of the night, but the one noise he was looking for he couldn’t find. He heard no footsteps, no rustling, just the howls of the animals, the croaks of the reptiles, the calls of the insects. Nothing human.

  Breathing. He heard human breathing. It was only one sound of thousands, but in the trance, he heard it. It came from above.

  Edward craned his neck. He knew Tomy hid in the tree branches, but couldn’t see him.

  A thousand calculations whirred through Edward’s mind. Edward was no Onge; he wasn’t physically able to scale a tree. Even if he tried, Tomy would just jump down and escape. It had been a wise move for the boy to take the high ground.

  Edward edged forward slowly, alert for an ambush. None came. He knew Tomy was watching his every move from high in the branches. For fifteen minutes, Edward continued on, expecting at any moment to hear the dull thud of Onge feet on soft jungle ground and the boy running again. Once Tomy was on the ground, Edward would have him.

  But Tomy didn’t drop. Finally, Edward decided to head back. He didn’t know how much longer the trance would last, and didn’t particularly want it to end before he got out of the jungle. As Edward turned to go back to the gorge, he heard the rustling of tree branches, but no thud.

  The Onge boy was wisely sticking to the treetops.

  Edward thought about his next move as he ran back. He knew he had a little time to think. It would take Tomy over a day to get back to the village on foot, even at a breakneck speed. Edward could make it in a car in just three hours.

  I’ve got time. Think it out.

  He had to cut off Tomy at the pass. He didn’t know what Tomy would report to Mahanta. Edward had to assume Tomy had seen the pills and that he’d seen Callista. That put her in danger and him in danger.

  Edward found another exit to the gorge on the other side and ran back to Callista’s home through the jungle.

  As he ran, he wondered if he hadn’t made a mistake.

  I did. He had known he was making it when he kissed her, but he would have never have done it if he’d known Tomy followed him.

  He mentally cringed at the idea of what he must do. He had to end it with her now. Now that he didn’t get Tomy, his vision with her was not just dim; it was dead. It would only be selfish of him to cling to her. If he didn’t stop it now, she might end up dead as his vision. He could not predict Tomy or Mahanta. Both would have no compunctions against harming her if they saw fit.

  He hated it, though. He was about to hurt her worse than he’d ever hurt anyone.

  He was glad that the trance allowed him to will his thoughts away from it. He would do what must be done when he got back to the house. For now, he would just run through the jungle.

  He willed away the sick feeling to his stomach, as well. It was the same sick feeling he’d gotten when he signed his life to the Jesuits. It was the feeling that she was gone.

  37

  Tomy dropped out of the trees and ran as fast as he could to his car. “Back to the base,” he ordered his driver.

  He tried to stop the racing of his mind. Edward was betraying the tribe. Of that, he was certain. He had no orders for this eventuality. He was only to watch Edward and report. He would need a nod from Mahanta to take care of Edward.

  The woman needs to be taken care of, too. Edward must have shown her the secret.

  Tomy’s thoughts diverted. Before I do anything, I must bring word to Manassa. The others can tend to business.

  Once he arrived at their Lisbaad base, an abandoned three-story tenement at the outskirts of town, it only took a few seconds to issue his orders. There would be no questions, only compliance. Such was the way of the Onge.

  He got into the car with Da’lin and left for the village.

  38

  “Cali,” he called into the house. “It’s Edward. I’m back. It’s safe, now.” She was hiding. “Come out, now.”

  She appeared at the end of the hallway. She had a marble doorstop in her hand, and when she saw that it was indeed Edward she dropped it to the floor. “How’d you know where I was?” she asked quietly.

  Edward shrugged. “Are you okay?” he asked. “Did anyone come in the house?”

>   “No. No. I’m fine. I’m fine.”

  You’re beautiful. Edward examined her. The moonlight cast into the house in slanted rays through the shutters. They caught her and drew lines across her skin as she walked toward him. He could feel her fear, saw her shaking and trying to cover it. He understood. She had no idea what was going on.

  He purposely slowed down his own breathing and calmed his countenance. She responded and relaxed a bit as well. Her eyes were searching his for answers. Her gaze froze on his cheek.

  “What?” he asked. Edward put his hand to his face. He followed the line of a deep scratch and found blood. “Just some scrapes. Nothing serious,” he dismissed. Her shaking hadn’t stopped. He pulled her to him. “Don’t be afraid,” said Edward. “I’m sorry to frighten you. It’s just…”

  She embraced him back. He felt her drawing strength from him. It was the sort of thing that gave him strength, too.

  “Just what?” she murmured. “What’s happening, Edward?”

  “I’ll explain everything to you, I promise.” He stroked her hair.

  “Are you in some sort of trouble? You’re in hiding? What happened?”

  He pulled from her slightly to look her in the eyes. “Nothing that makes any sense. I promise you I’ll tell you everything. It’s just, there’s no time right now...”

  “What was that out there?” she asked.

  “Just a boy. He was following me.”

  “Just a boy? Why’d you react like that?” She flipped the light switch behind him. The harsh light illuminated her face and the two trails of tears must have run down her cheeks.

  “I thought it might have been something else.”

  “Just tell me what’s happening, Edward. I need to know what’s happening.” She needs to know if this is going to work out. And I’ve got to tell her it’s over.

  “Listen, Callista, I want to answer all of your questions. I really do. But I can’t. Right now. And I need to talk to you before I go right now.”

  “Before you go right now?” she asked, incredulous. “Before you go right now?”

  “Sit down. We need to talk.” He tried to lead her to a seat. She sprang back up and paced to the other side of the room.

  “Listen to me, Edward,” she said. She twisted her hair up frantically, then let it go again. She turned to face the wall and then spun back around. “Something happened out there, Edward. And now you’re trying to break up with me before we’ve even gotten together. And you hid from a Jesuit. And you’ve just been acting weird. If you honestly think that you’re going to get out of here without telling me the truth, you’ve got rocks in your head.”

  “It’s only to protect you,” said Edward.

  She gave him a withering glare. “There’s one person who will definitely need protection if he leaves here without telling me what the hell’s going on.”

  She stood with her hand on her hip. She was resolute.

  For the second time in an hour, Edward denied his vision. He would have to make this future work. He had demonstrated conclusively to himself that he could not trust himself to be rational around Cali, even in the trance.

  “It’s called the nirvana effect,” he said. “And Mahanta…”

  39

  An hour later, Callista sat straight-backed at the edge of her seat, still quizzing him. She had the kind of posture that never necessitated a chair back. In contrast to Callista, Edward slumped into the couch.

  He’d told all, but all wasn’t ever enough for Callista. The drug had worn off, and its effects were replaced by a dreary exhaustion and a dull body ache. So much for the after-pain. I guess we could call it an after-ache now.

  “So what do you make of it?” she asked. “Who’s telling the truth? Nockwe or Mahanta?”

  Edward rubbed his forehead and sat up. He sighed. “I can’t tell you how much of a relief it is to communicate this all to another human being instead of just bouncing it all around my head.”

  “No problem,” she said, smiling. “So what do you think?”

  “Well, Nockwe told me Mahanta wants to rule the Earth - that he has to, basically…”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that because of the way the prophecy works in his tribe, the same tradition that made him a god to his people could also kill him if he doesn’t follow what that tradition predicts. And part of that prediction is that he’ll guide his people to rule the Earth.”

  “Literally or figuratively?”

  “Quite literally.”

  “That’s crazy. Can you imagine the President or the Prime Minister bowing down to a boy in a loincloth?” she asked. She laughed at the idea. He didn’t.

  “Well, he probably wouldn’t be in a loincloth at that point,” he said.

  “Wait. You’re seriously considering that possibility?” she asked.

  “I’m not debating what he’s capable of. I’m just trying to figure out what he’s capable of trying. But anyway, I asked him point-blank while I was in the trance if he intended that. He said no. I would have been able to tell if he were lying.”

  “Wouldn’t have you been able to tell if Nockwe was lying, too?”

  “Well, I wasn’t in the trance then…but it seemed like he was telling the truth.”

  “Why would Nockwe lie to you?”

  “Power. There’s always a power struggle in the Onge. He would want to undermine Mahanta.”

  “But from what you said about Nockwe’s actions before this situation occurred, that sort of thing doesn’t sound characteristic,” she said.

  “Maybe not. But Nockwe might be under new stresses, new pressures that force his hand. I don’t know the new Nockwe, and barely know the old.”

  She nodded.

  “One thing about what he said, though…what he said made sense. As a matter of fact, I don’t see how it could possibly be a lie…”

  “What did you ask Mahanta?” she asked.

  “Hmmm?”

  “What did you ask him exactly?”

  Edward rubbed his forehead again. He felt the need for coffee or, better, another trance. He sent his dull mind back to that moment. “I asked…well, it wasn’t a question, actually. I said, ‘I do not fault your desire to have the Onge rule the Earth.’ And he said, ‘I have no such desire.’ Of course, we said it all in Onge.”

  “Hmmm…”

  “Any ideas?” he asked.

  “No, not yet. I don’t know what to tell you about that one,” she said.

  “Yeah, seems like he’s being honest. You know, it’s totally possible that Mahanta’s being honest and so is Nockwe. Nockwe might just be being cautious, and not really know what Mahanta intends.”

  “So what do you do now?” she asked.

  He was looking at his hands. He studied them, looking for an answer written along one of the lines on his palms. “Well, I…”

  He stopped because he’d looked up at her. She looked hopeful, a bit like a school girl sitting there waiting on the bench for her boyfriend to get to recess. When he stopped the expression evaporated.

  “You’re not going back there, are you?” she asked.

  He started to nod.

  “Edward, you said it yourself. You’re playing their game, and you don’t even know what it is. Nockwe said Mahanta could kill you.”

  “I know,” he said.

  “And I’m here. Look at me. I’m here, Edward, flesh and blood. You’re here…” Her voice trailed off.

  “It’s the nirvana effect…” he started.

  “You’ve got the pills. We can just go. We can get off this island.”

  “It’s not that…”

  “Edward,” she said quietly. She looked down at the ground. He waited for her to speak. She seemed uncomfortable. “I set up a clinic here, on this island,” she said, “because I’d heard from your father…that you specialized in anthropology…and in tribes resistive to adopting the basics of Christianity. I mean, I wanted to set up a clinic, but I chose here because the Onge
are one of the classic examples of such a tribe. I…”

  He didn’t believe his ears. She wouldn’t look at him. Her face reddened. Her eyes watered.

  “I couldn’t forget you,” she whispered. “I know that sounds stupid, childish, ridiculous. I…”

  He held her. She still wasn’t looking at him. “I turned down travel,” he said, “to half a dozen cities I would have otherwise killed to see, just to get back to London. I’ve probably ‘thought I’ve seen you’ a hundred times. I couldn’t forget you, either.” She looked back up at him, her lips quivering into a smile.

  “I just thought,” she said, “that maybe if I set up here, I might somehow see you again…”

  “Good plan,” he said, squeezing her shoulders.

  She laughed. “Stupid plan. Took long enough.” She laughed again. “Just stay,” she pleaded. “Or let’s leave.”

  “I’d love to,” said Edward. “I can’t. I have to find out what Mahanta is up to. I’ve got to confront him and ask all the right questions this time. I’ve got to go spy on him while he doesn’t suspect I’m there. I can’t leave the drug with him if he’s up to no good.”

  “Why not?”

  “There could be a lot of people dead on account of him,” said Edward.

  “You didn’t ask to get into this,” she pointed out.

  “I’m trying to fix this. I just can’t drop it, Cali. I’ve got to make sure I do it right.”

  “Why?” she asked. But she already knew the answer. He could see that she’d resigned herself to it.

  Instead of responding, Edward just sighed and kissed her forehead.

  “Don’t we already know he’s up to no good? He sent a spy after you.”

  “It’s the Onge way,” he explained. “Trust but verify.”

  “I don’t think that’s an Onge quote,” she said.

  He shrugged and kissed her hard.

  “You’re going now?” she called as he walked to the kitchen. She sounded disappointed.

  “I’ve got to. I don’t have much time.” He started pouring the pills into the small bottle she’d pulled out for the purpose. He felt her slender fingers slide around his waist. She’d quietly slipped up behind him. “You don’t have to do anything,” she whispered, kissing the nape of his neck.