A Star Called Lucky
Page 24
“No one talked,” said Lucky calmly. “I found some new friends in Bulgaria. You’re not the only one who can hack an account, Clevis.”
Usko handed Coleman a sheet of paper. Without taking his eyes off Lucky, Coleman asked, “What is this?”
“A resignation speech,” Usko said. “And an apology. What better place to give it than here, in a place where you can honor real heroes? Go on,” he said, gesturing toward the statue. “There’s a podium. The press is waiting. Resign now, and there’s a good chance you might avoid felony charges.”
Coleman stared at that. His eyes narrowed. “Felony charges? So you really are playing hardball, huh? You’ve chosen a strange way to go about it. Why not just remove me completely? Apparently, it would have been easy for you, especially with these new friends of yours.”
“Did you ever get around to reading that Sun Tsu?” Lucky asked. “I mean, all of it?”
Coleman stared at her again. “I assume you’re about to tell me what Sun Tzu has to do with this?”
“The consummate leader cultivates moral law. I would have taken you out all the way. It was Lobsang who said that maybe this was your chance to turn your life around. He believes in cultivating morality — especially in the immoral. Reformation is what I work for, but this wasn’t my idea. It was Lobsang’s.”
Coleman’s face reddened. “That blasted doctor? He’s in on this too? I knew I should have killed him!”
“Killing is wrong,” Usko said. “You may not think so, but you haven’t held a dying man in your arms. I have.”
“You got what you said you wanted,” Lucky said. “And you have the resources to use it right if you want. I mean, the whole of the pharmaceutical industry, if you like. Or you can resign and do what you think is best. You should use this power for the benefit of society. The choice is yours. You can go on your way as you were and make your speech, or you can think about making the lies you said become true.”
“I see,” said Coleman. “You want me to be reformed, eh? Well, it seems to me that if I’m going to go down anyway, I might as well see one of you down for it, too. I haven’t seen a shred of evidence suggesting I’m involved with any of this story, and it won’t erase any of the things you’ve done — or that people will think you’ve done. My career’s already ruined, so I see no reason why I should let you intimidate me into reading this.” He twitched the paper in his hand derisively.
Usko and Lucky exchanged a glance. Finally, Lucky sighed. “We wanted to give you a chance at true reform, Clevis. But I suppose it’s not to be. The Bulgarians have two programs that come from you. Whatever money you shipped into the trust account we transferred to the PETA charity accounts. And whatever you have done through computers and e-mails will come back. The circle is complete. And those accounts, although held in trust, can be traced. The Administration is going to be very interested in that. As will the IRS. If you want to run for public office, you’ll never vet. You know that now.”
Coleman stood stock-still, his mouth gaping. For once, he seemed to have no response ready.
“So,” Usko continued, “You go up there and read this speech. Or we can leak the story. Newspapers, TV, you name it. You know what we know, and we know what we know, and you’re going to leave Lucky alone. And as long as you do that, we might just leave out some of the details. But if I ever hear a word from her — or about her — that implicates you, well, let’s just say there are two ways to end that game.”
Coleman shook his head. “This can’t be happening. I feel like…like…I feel like someone has poisoned my experiment.”
“Come again?” Lucky said.
Coleman shook his head, refusing to answer. He turned to Evan.
“Ah ahhhh,” said Evan. “I ain’t your man no more, Boss. You goin’ home, you takin’ a cab.”
Coleman stared at him, seemingly on the verge of responding, then suddenly turned and bolted through the crowd. A roar went up.
Lucky winced. “He hates PETA activists.”
“They don’t think much of him, either,” Usko replied.
The crowd parted and Maria appeared, walking with Sean. He ran to Lucky and threw his arms around her legs. She had been home for a week, but he still cried whenever she left his sight. She knelt beside him and held him tight. She took his hand and walked through the park.
“Wouldn’t it be nice,” Usko said, “if someday there was no more war, or hate, or killing? If people shared, and they took care of one another, instead of gouging each others’ eyes out to grab all they could?”
“It would,” Lucky said, “but I don’t think it will ever happen.”
“Only one way to find out — make it happen.” Usko was looking at the statue of the Marines and the podium where Coleman was not going to deliver his speech. “A shame to waste all that television coverage,” he said.
Lucky looked up and held out a hand. “Are you coming back when you’re done?”
“For a little while,” he said. “For a little while.” And then he turned and crossed the park to where the microphones waited.
“Perception, position, possession,” Lucky said.
“What’s that?” Maria replied. “I can’t hear you.”
“The three illusions. Goodbye, Usko Tahti. May you find the peace you seek.”
And with that, she took Sean’s hand and led him out of the park and into the city. But what she was thinking about was that better world, the one John Lennon sang about in “Imagine.” Why not? Lucky thought. Wasn’t it our obligation to leave the world in better shape than how we found it? And she stopped for a minute and closed her eyes, breathed in deep, thinking how nice it was to breathe through healthy lungs. It would be nighttime in India — but people went out late there. They would be walking in parks, too, whole families, breathing the same air, and dreaming the same dreams. And today, or tomorrow, or the next day, there would be a delivery to a little pharmaceutical firm in Delhi. A startup, but staffed with some good scientists. Scientists who hadn’t yet abandoned their morals and sense of social obligation. There wasn’t much in the box. A note, and the fragment of a mushroom. And what they did with it then, well, maybe that would depend on the mushroom’s view of things.
Her cell phone beeped. Lucky smiled as she read and reread the text aloud to Sean,
“Let’s make it happen.”
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Glossary
PETA—People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals
GWC—Global Wellness Council
H&HS—Health and Human Services
FDA—Federal Drug Administration
NRA—Natural Rights of Animals
The legendary ice mushroom is similar to the mushroom now known as Yarsagumba but is significantly morepotent. In the ancient Indian epic Ramayana, the ice mushroom is depicted as the powerful herb Sanjivani found in the Himalayan mountains. Here Hanuman, the monkey god, lifts the Dronagiri Mountain and carries it to Lakshmana who was severely wounded in battle and Lakshmana is then healed by the mushroom. The herb is nearly extinct today.