“My husband is dead, my lord,” said Lila. “Glis is dead.”
She stood in the doorway. She resisted the urge to walk closer still. She wanted him to look at her. She wanted the eyes of the living god upon her, much as she’d had his eyes for years before he’d risen to power. She hoped she still had his eyes.
He looked at her and half stood up in his seat. She smiled. She had his eyes, though she knew she didn’t hold the same power as before. He had the power in all things but a few. He could have any woman he wanted. For now, he desired her. This fact didn’t repel her, but rather drew her closer. She had to hang onto the doorway to keep from falling in.
“I am sorry for your loss,” said Manassa.
“It was as you had foreseen!” shouted Lila, ecstatic. “It was exactly as you had foreseen!”
“You have kept our promise? You have told no one?” he asked.
“Not a soul,” she said. “I won’t tell a soul. It’s our secret.”
“As a god, Lila, I hear all things. I love you a great deal, more than any other, but I will cut out your tongue if you break our agreement.” He spoke with sincerity. There was no menace in his voice. He was making a statement of fact.
She gulped. She had known their relationship was different now, but in that moment she realized how different.
“I have much better intentions for your tongue than that, though,” said Manassa. He smiled. For a moment he was Mahanta again. She sighed and felt warmer. “Well done, Lila. You were very brave and loyal. You may enter,” he said.
He watched her walk into the room. She stopped in the center so that the candlelight could dance all over her dark body. She saw she was overcoming his discipline. He moved forward from the chair, but then sat back down.
“Lay down on the bed,” he told her. “I’ve just got to finish this.” He turned back to his microscope.
She eased herself across the sheets. Yes, he has the power in all things but a few. Despite his godly discipline, she’d seen that look in his eyes.
43
Edward had amazed himself at his own motions. As he flew down the road in the Onge’s old purple Lincoln, he played the scene over and over in his mind.
Before, when he’d fought Dook, he had tried to tap into whatever martial arts he had seen in movies and boxing matches. That data hadn’t served him well at all. As a matter of fact, the only thing that kept him alive with Dook was the moment by moment evaluation of what Dook planned next, and Edward’s own response accordingly.
This time, Edward applied that to his attack. Instead of using some predetermined fighting style, Edward simply evaluated and fought moment by moment in trance. This made his assault unstoppable, even with his relatively weak muscles compared to the Onge. He had simply evaluated every perception as it came through his mind, one quantum at a time.
Every step occasioned a counter-step. Every change in his momentum was calculated so as to leave the Onge defenseless. Every motion of his opponent, every countermotion, all led him to action with each muscle in harmony.
Edward had no training in martial arts, but it was as though his mind had manufactured a special martial art for that exact scene. The muddy terrain made him rely on rapid blows. He couldn’t get a grip with his feet to land any heavy hits. If he had fought in different terrain, he would have moved in a completely different yet appropriate manner.
He needed more strength, he learned. He didn’t need to learn how to fight.
Now his mind left contemplation of the present and looked to the future. It seemed to be more and more likely that Nockwe was right. Maybe Edward just couldn’t tell a liar, even in the trance. He hoped that wasn’t true. It would render this confrontation he was manufacturing worthless.
Of one thing Edward was certain: he was glad to have 43 t-pills in his pocket. Mahanta obviously had something very different than science in mind.
He stopped thinking. To think further was pointless. He knew what he must do no matter if Mahanta spoke the truth or was deceiving him. He had calculated all the possibilities while in trance.
Edward reached the point in the jungle he needed to. He drove another quarter mile, however, before finally parking behind some trees out of view from the road. He checked out the car, finding a knife in the glove box. It fit at his belt. He turned off the car and locked it. Like that will do any good…
Edward sprinted into the thick of the jungle, plunging in at a dead run. He would have put Nockwe to shame. He ran through the woods as another might run a track race, bending or turning the slightest amount necessary to avoid the foliage, his feet always finding the exact right spot, and all in the budding dawn, with only the slightest red of the sky to guide him.
The rain made it difficult to find footing, but only because he was sprinting faster than he’d ever run in his life. It was five miles to the village. After the first mile, Edward kept running but let up slightly, quite aware of the fact that his body might give out on him even if he could will himself through it.
As long as I keep trancing, I’ll be fine. After the trance – well, that’s a different story.
He eased his speed even more. Again, for all the dangers of the jungle, the dangers that lay before him held ten times the force. He slowed to a jog. He did not want to be winded when he got to the village. Still, he had to make it before daybreak to keep his advantage over his trackers and Mahanta.
The whole trek, which would have consumed most of a day even for an Onge, took him less than an hour. His navigation was dead-on, taking him to the “back” of the Onge village.
44
From the edge of the jungle, Edward could see the spark of a few of the cooking fires lit up in the village. The relatively colossal temple of Manassa dominated the landscape over the little huts.
Edward spotted Nockwe’s hut in the foreground. His black family flag still flew over the roof. Nockwe rules another day. The chieftain must have recovered some of his health. Though the tribe knew he was weak, no one else must have challenged him.
Edward felt an odd sort of relief. He had hoped that Nockwe would still be living when he returned. There was a definite kinship between them that Edward could not explain.
Edward felt the trance starting to slip. He wasted no time in popping another t-pill. He was in the belly of the beast, now.
Almost instantly he felt a resurgence of his consciousness. This could become a very painful parallel to chain smoking.
Only a few Onge women maundered around their fires in the early morning. Dawn’s pale tones were leaking into the sky. In another half hour, the night would evaporate.
Edward evaluated the scene. He knew the village like the back of his hand. He skirted around the edge of it until he could get a good view of the temple. Two warriors guarded the front entrance, weapons at the ready. He hadn’t expected that. That was quite a change since a few days ago, and another clue that Mahanta had hidden plans.
Edward needed a diversion.
A cooking shack was situated only a few meters from the temple. It had been converted from a house to prepare Manassa’s “holy food”. Edward saw smoke already billowing out of its side.
He scampered into the village, careful to avoid the eyes of Onge women making their morning rounds. He wriggled through a hole in one of the walls in the shack.
Edward took only an instant to survey the primitive kitchen. A hog roasted on a spit, and a pot of cooking grease lay nearby. Edward grabbed the pot and pitched the grease all over the walls. He used a pair of tongs to hold a burning log up against the corner of the wall and straw roof. The grease and the roof lit quickly.
Edward turned from his handiwork to find himself face to face with a large Onge woman holding a bowl of water in her arms. Edward knocked the bowl out of her hands and waved the blazing log inches from her face. “TAUN!” he shouted, the ancient curse of the witch doctor that Edward had heard during Mahanta’s coming-of-age. He had no clue what he said.
The woman’s eyes
jolted wide. She fled screaming, “White devil! White devil! White devil! The fire!” That worked too well. Edward wriggled out of the shack as the guards ran to investigate.
Edward edged out of their line of sight, their vision burned out by the building fire. He made it to the temple entrance undetected. He knew he didn’t have much time, maybe a few minutes before the guards checked the temple after putting out the fire.
Edward saw Manassa poised serenely on his throne, his eyes closed in meditation. Long purple banners hung from the ceiling on either side of the god’s throne. That’s new. New guards, new ornaments. As soon as Edward set foot into the hut, Manassa said, “Hello, Edward.” He still hadn’t opened his eyes. His voice boomed out across the open space.
45
Callista Knowles left the house shortly before dawn, unable to sleep. She’d been living alone in the house for three years. For the first time in all those days and nights, the place felt empty. It gave her a creepy worry and led her mind to dark thoughts that she did not wish to contemplate.
Dr. Knowles did not scare easily, but Cali did not want to see Edward go. It had been too long.
I have him back. She contemplated that. Her doubts ate at the thought, but she refused to release it. She sat on her couch and smiled at the ceiling. I have him back.
She had actually gotten interested in her work, here. She had almost forgotten Edward. She really had. She enjoyed her work. She was actually making an impact. She had developed a couple vaccines that had put quite a dint in local illnesses. She was really happy with that part. And it was nothing like England. Her parents could send her a letter once every couple months and that was about the extent of their influence: the postal service did their bidding if they affixed the correct number of stamps. No one else cared in the least who her parents were or what they did.
Her work, her accomplishments, the entire life she had built in Lisbaad all disappeared into the backdrop the moment she saw Edward in her exam room. Looking back on it, she saw that was why she had reacted so strongly when she first saw him again. She had nothing to meet him with. She had felt naked. She was just a little girl with a crush on a boy for those moments. It was a giddy sorrow that she hadn’t felt in a long time.
Focus. She had to focus. She needed to follow Edward’s instructions. And Edward needed to come back in one piece.
She wished those pills would just disappear.
That look in his eyes had told her though that she wouldn’t be able to argue him out of it.
She hoped he wasn’t addicted to them. That would be unlike Edward.
The dark sky just beginning to catch the sun’s reflection. It wasn’t yet morning but it was close enough. Callista grabbed her purse and walked across the street to Doctor James Seacrest’s front door. She gave it three sharp raps. She hadn’t seen the Corvette, but perhaps he’d parked on the street behind. She hoped he was home. She didn’t want to have to wait for Edward any more without company.
Callista heard footsteps inside the house. It sounded as though there might be several people inside, but no one responded to her knocking. She tried again, but still no answer. Curious, she walked along the porch so that she could check out the driveway. As she passed a window, the curtains inside abruptly parted, revealing a face of a nationality she had only seen once in all her time in Lisbaad.
Dark, dark skin, half Indian, half Chinese in feature. He was almost invisible in the shadow, his face only lit by the porch light. His wide, surprised eyes peered out at her. She restrained herself from sprinting back to her house. He regained his composure as well.
She waved, friendly, as though just calling on a friend.
“Not home,” said the Onge in Tamil. Odd, maybe I’m wrong. The Onge only speak Onge…He waved his hand in a side to side motion. Maybe he’s not Onge.
She nodded. “Thank you,” she said, also in Tamil. She turned and walked away down the porch. She had to measure every step, carefully planting one foot after the other to resist the urge to flee. She gave one quick glance back to the house. The dark eyes were still watching her.
She walked around her house to her back yard. As soon as she was out of sight, she leaned against the wall and breathed deeply.
Focus. She had to collect her thoughts. She couldn’t just run. She had to somehow leave Edward a trail.
Callista bolted inside and grabbed a pen. She had to force her hand to stop shaking as she wrote him the note and hid it in her bedroom. She kept checking out the window for the door to Seacrest’s house to open and half a dozen Onge to come after her.
Had they been there the whole time, staking us out? she asked herself. It didn’t seem so. There would have been much more of a reaction to her knocking on the door. Are they on Edward’s side? Probably not.
She didn’t know. Only what she didn’t know could hurt her.
She started running through the jungle behind her house. There was a neighbor, seven houses down, who was always home. Her husband owned the only ship supply company on the island. She stayed with her two children. She would let Dr. Knowles borrow her car.
Callista knocked on the lady’s back door. She quickly answered with a four-year-old on her hip. She looked slightly bewildered to be greeting Callista at her back door, but still friendly. “Hello, Dr. Knowles,” she said. “Can I help you?”
“Hello, Lindsay…Ms. Webb. Maybe you can. I’m sorry I’m knocking on your back door like this. Just…in a hurry, you know. I got a call from the clinic, it’s an emergency, and my car’s on the fritz again. You know, I’m a doctor, not a mechanic. Not in my job description.” Callista forced the joke, forced the chuckle. All she could think about was that dark face in Seacrest’s window. She hoped Seacrest hadn’t come to harm.
Lindsay laughed overmuch. She seemed starved for adult conversation.
“I know what you mean. I’m not a mechanic, either, Dr. Knowles!” she said, laughing again. It wasn’t funny at all but Callista laughed with her. “Whenever my car breaks, I have to nag Mr. Webb ‘til it gets fixed or I get a new one…so I guess you could call me a mechanic.”
“I’m only a body mechanic,” said Callista. She was hoping Lindsay would offer. If not, she would ask. If Lindsay said no, and if Callista’s pulse kept rising, she would probably take it anyway.
Lindsay’s face suddenly took a look of concern. She frowned. “Is it a bad emergency?” she asked.
“Just an average, run-of-the-mill emergency…” Callista looked at the four-year-old. He was playing with his mother’s hair. She could see a staircase behind Lindsay to the second floor of the house. “Just a child, couldn’t be more than five years old, one of the merchant’s kids, had an awful spill down a flight of stairs. They think he broke his neck. They got him to my clinic, but I wasn’t in. I don’t want to have to move him to another clinic and risk disabling him permanently just because I need a new mechanic.”
“Oh, God!” shouted Lindsay. She covered her face. There were tears welling up in her eyes. She looked at her own, impressive staircase. “I just keep telling Donald how we need to get an elevator. It’s just not safe for the kids, and so wearisome for me, doing the laundry, up and down, up and down. Oh, God!”
Jesus Christ, lady. I need this car. At this rate, I may as well have just hunkered down on Seacrest’s porch.
“Yes, would be a terrible shame…” Knowles said.
Lindsay’s eyes darted around. “Listen, promise me you won’t tell Donald, he has no compassion for children, but I could lend you my car. It’s a mess inside. I hope you don’t mind.”
Callista smiled warmly. “I won’t mind. You’re sure it won’t be any trouble?”
“Just don’t tell Donald. He’ll have a cow. He’s out of town on business, but he’ll be back next week. You won’t need it for that long, will you?”
Callista shook her head. “No, just for today. I just need to get to the clinic.”
“Yes, that’s fine. Oh, I’m sorry, I’m such a terrible host. Wou
ld you like to come in, have some tea?” She motioned warmly. The kid just stared at Dr. Knowles from her hip.
“No, no, I need to get to the clinic to help the child.” Geez, this woman is off her rocker.
“Oh, right. Let me go get my keys.”
“I’ll get them, mom,” said the little boy. He jumped off her hip and ran down the hall.
Callista checked behind her. She wondered how much time she had. She wanted to grab the keys herself and leap into the car, but she had to restrain herself. She made wise use of the time.
“Have you seen Doctor Seacrest?” she asked.
“No, no,” said Lindsay. “I haven’t seen him in several days. As a matter of fact, I always see his Corvette pull in, he always comes in at three and I’m just waking up from my afternoon nap, but I haven’t even seen him pull by in the next couple days. Is he on vacation?”
“I guess so,” said Callista. “I guess so.”
“He’s got such a fine car, don’t you think? I’ve been trying to get Donald to get one. It’s so fine. Doctor Seacrest is a fine man, too, don’t you think? And single. If I weren’t married to Donald ‘the fish’ Webb--”
“Here you go, mom!” The kid ran up and handed her the keys. Lindsay passed them to Callista. Callista grabbed them. Lindsay kept them gripped in her hand.
“You’ll come by some time, and have tea?” she asked, eyes like lasers into Callista’s skull as though searching out some deep, embedded truth.
“Yes, of course. What are neighbors for?” chuckled Callista. Lindsay let go of the keys. “Thank you. You just saved a child’s life today. I’ll see you tonight.”
“Wonderful. I’ll see what they’re making in the kitchen and have them add a plate!”
Callista had already started walking to the car. It was a black 2007 Lincoln Towncar. It was immaculate except for a couple children’s toys on the seats. Very messy. “Actually, I might be late with this surgery.”
Nirvana Effect Page 19
