by Gary Urey
“Did you blow your nose with it?”
“No. I just used it to wipe some sweat off my forehead back at the Doctor’s building.”
“Then I’m keeping it,” Daisha said, snatching the hankie off the ground and shoving it in her front pocket. “I might need it for something down the road.”
“The tour is about to start!” a man with a thick Indian accent shouted.
The Japanese visitors joined a handful of British couples.
“There’s safety in numbers,” Daisha said. “Let’s disappear in the tour group. Maybe we can figure out what our parents want us to do here.”
“I already know what they want us to do,” Axel said.
“What?”
“Thanks to that virus, Pinchole, I figured out they didn’t mean for us to destroy the GeoPorts,” Axel said. “They want us to demagnetize the X-Point. Because of our parents’ discovery, the Konanavlah Sun Temple is the only known X-Point in the world. Without its intense magnetism, the Doctor can’t go through with his plans.”
Daisha stood silent for a long moment, digesting what Axel had told her. “So you’re saying the X-Point makes the GeoPort work. Without the X-Point, no Doctor Lennon Hatch Geographical Transportation Company or whatever he wants to call his stupid business.”
“Exactly.”
“How do you propose we destroy one of the most invincible natural forces in our solar system?”
Axel shrugged. “Maybe this tour guide will let us know.”
They listened as the tour guide explained the temple’s ancient Brahman origins. The tour then entered a doorway guarded by statues of two huge war elephants.
“We are now in the Gathering Hall,” the guide explained. “This was an area of sacred dancing in honor of Surya, the Sun God.”
Axel whispered in Daisha’s ear. “Maybe Surya will help us destroy this X-Point.”
“Shhhh,” Daisha hushed, pressing a finger to her lips. “I want to hear everything he has to say.”
An unfathomable collage of intricate, ornate stone carvings covered every inch of the temple. To Daisha, the whole thing felt like a massive, 3-D Magic Eye illusion. She squinted her eyes, staring in one place and expecting a hidden picture to reveal itself.
The guide continued. “The temple entrance was carefully positioned to capture the first rays of the sun. The temple and its team of horses face east to pull the chariot toward the rising sun. The seven carved horses represent the days of the week, and the temple has twelve balconies to represent the months of the year.”
As the tour moved toward the north end of the temple, a tall, handsome Indian man with a thick, black mustache and wearing a long, white dhoti approached them.
“The temple is beautiful even in its ruins,” the man commented.
“Extremely,” Daisha said.
“Pretty awesome,” Axel added.
The man pointed to an exquisite carving of a half-bird, half-man creature sitting on the back of an elephant that appeared to be fighting a giant cobra. “That ancient deity is Garuda,” the man said. “Traditionally, Garuda has the golden body of a muscular man, powerful red wings, a white face, and the sharp beak of an eagle. He also wears a crown on his head. A modern-day sea eagle called the Brahminy kite is a living representation of Garuda. In fact, I saw a breeding pair fly over the temple moments ago.”
“What kind of god is this Garuda?” Axel asked.
“Garuda is the king of all birds and the enemy of snakes. He represents freedom from tyranny and the promise of courage at the time of catastrophe. He is also the idol that carries Lord Vishnu, the Protector of the World.”
“What does Vishnu protect the world from?” Daisha wondered.
“Vishnu is the divine being of peace, compassion, and mercy. Anything that tries to upset that balance is the Lord’s enemy.”
He smiled. “My name is Jagannath. My Western friends call me Jag. What are your names?”
“Ax—” Axel blurted out but then stopped himself.
“Nice to meet you, Ax.” Jag turned to Daisha. “And you are?”
“Danielle,” Daisha said, remembering the phony name she had given the police officer back in Ohio.
“Ax and Danielle. I can tell from your accents you must be from the United States or perhaps Canada.”
Daisha and Axel gave each other a suspicious glance, indicating that Jag was getting a little too nosy and it was time to rejoin the tour group.
As they attempted to move on, Jag blocked their way with his large frame. “The temple is also said to be one of the most magnetic places on Earth,” he said, his black eyes glistening with intensity. “Legend has it that powerful magnets placed in the temple’s tower allowed the king’s throne to float in midair.”
“Thanks for sharing, but we have to get back to the group,” Daisha said quickly.
Jag reached out and pressed his palm against the carving of Garuda. The deity’s image creaked open like the door to a crypt. Before Daisha and Axel could react, Jag shoved them into the opening and then quickly closed the door.
Darkness enveloped them. Daisha’s heart rushed with panic. She pounded on the hard stone walls, screaming for Jag to let them out. The whoosh sound of a fire igniting filled her ears. Bright orange-yellow light filled the chamber. Sweet-smelling incense wafted in the air. Flower garlands, colorful fabrics, and strings of bells decorated one wall. Hanging on another wall was a massive tapestry picturing the unmistakable likeness of Garuda. Perched on top of the king of birds was Vishnu. The god had skin the color of a cloudless summer sky, four arms, and a crown of jewels on his head.
Daisha looked around and saw two fiery torches about eight feet apart. Sitting between the torches was an old Indian man with a long, white beard and equally long, white hair. He was almost naked except for a blue cloth covering from his waist down. With eyes closed, the yogi levitated a foot off the ground in a lotus position.
“Who are you?” Daisha cried out.
The man’s eyes snapped open. He stared at them, the expression on his face full of bliss and complete serenity.
“Welcome,” he said with a strong yet calm voice. “We’ve been waiting for you.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
DOCTOR STAIN
The Doctor’s private jet landed on time at the Jabalpur Airport. From there, he, Pinchole, and Stiv hopped into a chauffeured van and headed to a meeting with the governor of Madhya Pradesh and his chief minister. Also scheduled to attend were the director of tourism and a professor from the Jabalpur Engineering College.
Motorcycles, bicycles, buses, and pedestrians clogged the claustrophobic streets. The van’s horn blared as the driver weaved in and around the masses of humanity. The Doctor rolled down his window and watched the street life. A blast of hot, humid air made the port-wine stain on his face throb. He had never been to India before, and the frenetic energy made him slightly dizzy. Adolescent boys pulled huge carts of rice, numerous food stands sold fruit and vegetables, and women balanced boxes on their heads while walking at the same time. The sounds of loud car engines and people shouting, hooting, and hollering rang inside his ears. He quickly rolled the window back up when a truck with choking exhaust billowing from its tailpipe pulled up beside them.
“I just got a text from one of my SW techs,” Pinchole said, staring at his phone. “The cargo plane has landed and been unloaded, and everything is en route to the temple.”
“Excellent,” the Doctor said. “Please explain what we need to tell these officials at our meeting. Of course, any objections to our project will be answered with personal checks containing a lot of zeroes at the end.”
“Make sure you make one of those checks out to me,” Pinchole joked.
The Doctor dug a pen under the cast on his wrist, trying to alleviate an itch. “Young man, a good chunk of my money is already going to you.”
“What you will tell the Indian officials and the true nature of our mission are two very different things,” Pinchole
explained. “As far as the Indians are concerned, we are in their country to study the magnetic properties of the Sun Temple to generate power—as in electricity. We’ll explain that our aim is to create a new form of clean energy from Earth’s magnetic field and the solar wind.” He reached into his briefcase and pulled out a laptop. “To convince the representative from the engineering college, I’ve created a PowerPoint presentation. Don’t worry. I’ll do most of the talking. You can save your energy for shaking hands, posing for pictures, and greasing greedy fingers.”
“They’ll love the clean-energy mumbo jumbo,” the Doctor said. “We’ll make nuclear plants and coal obsolete, fresh air for everybody, no more global warming, yadda, yadda, yadda.”
“But what are you really going to do here?” Stiv asked. “That’s what I’m dying to hear about.”
Pinchole scowled at her. The Doctor chuckled. He knew that Stiv’s sudden inclusion in the inner circle annoyed his director of Satellite Warp science to no end. To Pinchole, the girl was a splinter under his nail. A spiky-haired, tattooed Yoko Ono breaking up his math and physics version of the Beatles.
“Tell her,” the Doctor said. “I’d like to get up to speed myself too.”
“What Professors Jack and Tandala did here was small scale compared to what we are going to do,” Pinchole explained. “They only manipulated the magnetic properties enough to create two working GeoPorts. I’ve deduced this was because they didn’t want to damage the temple. However, to accomplish our goals, we must destroy the structure completely.”
“But you can’t destroy it,” Stiv argued. “The Konanavlah Sun Temple is a thousand-year-old Hindu shrine.”
“As I was saying,” Pinchole continued, completely ignoring Stiv’s objections. “The esteemed professors only manipulated the magnetic properties a very small amount. To make a worldwide geographical transportation system, we will rev this baby into overdrive.”
“How will you do that?” the Doctor asked. “I want to know exactly what my money is helping you accomplish.”
“The solar wind erupts from the sun in a blast of ion cyclotron and magnetohydrodynamic waves. They hurtle toward Earth at a million miles per hour. It’s one of the most powerful and fascinating phenomena in the solar system. The only thing that saves us from destruction is our magnetized atmosphere. We use space magnets to capture those waves and then transfer them to Earth with lasers. Until we knew about the permanent X-Point, we sent those watered-down waves to satellites on the roof of the Doctor’s building. Now we will harness its full power, sending it directly to the temple. Our men and equipment will do the work from there.”
“A one-thousand-year-old collection of carved stone can’t withstand that type of solar onslaught,” Stiv remarked, a hint of sadness in her voice.
“A horrible, unfortunate accident,” the Doctor said, pretending to speak before news reporters. “This loss of antiquity cannot be replaced, but I will make restitution to the Indian government and make sure that a tragedy like this never happens again.”
“You’re good,” Stiv commented.
“I’m the best,” he said with a wink.
Pinchole stifled an air pollution–induced sneeze. “The temple’s sacrifice will give us the greatest power the world has ever known, the ability to dematerialize the elemental composition of the human body to a stream of charged particles, and then reconstitute those particles back to human form.”
“With the added bonus of transferring a person to any latitudinal and longitudinal point on Earth and making me the most powerful human being who ever walked on two legs,” the Doctor said.
The van screeched to a stop in front of a large government building.
“This must be the place,” Pinchole said, putting away his laptop and zipping his bags.
“Stiv, you stay here in the van,” the Doctor instructed.
“I may go wander around the shops for a while,” Stiv said.
“Fine, but don’t go far.” The Doctor dug into his pocket, pulled out a wad of rupees, and handed half to Stiv and the other half to the driver. “Be careful. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to the newest member on my team.”
The Doctor and Pinchole hopped out of the car and bounded up a long set of marble steps. Just as the Doctor was about to open the building’s lavish rosewood doors, the urge to look back at Stiv overwhelmed him. He turned his head and watched her run across the road, dodging cars and motorcycles, disappearing into the crowd.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
AXEL
The old Indian man who had been defying gravity slowly drifted back to solid ground. He rested on a mound of pillows, his dark eyes wise and penetrating. Axel was about to ask him where they were when Jag appeared from the shadows. He was carrying a platter of mouthwatering food.
“Forgive me if I frightened you,” Jag said, setting the platter on a marble table. “But it was the only way to get you into the library. Please eat. You must be very hungry after such a long trip.”
Axel and Daisha tore into the food. They piled their plates high with jasmine rice, spinach paneer, and chickpea masala, sopping everything up with hot garlic naan.
“This is the strangest library I’ve ever been inside,” Daisha said through a mouthful of rice.
“Who are you?” Axel demanded as he bit into his third piece of naan.
“I already told you my name,” Jag answered, and then pointed to the man sitting on the pillows. “His name is Larraj, the most gifted Nadi reader in all of India.”
“A Nadi what?” Axel questioned.
Larraj cleared his throat. “Nadi means in search of in the Tamil language,” he said with a thick Indian accent. “I am the keeper and interpreter of the ancient writings. You are standing within the walls of the Konanavlah Palm Leaf Library.”
“I don’t understand,” Daisha said. “What’s a palm leaf library?”
“Before you ask any more questions, I must take your fingerprints so Larraj can identify your set of palm leaves,” Jag said. “Axel, because you are male, the print must come from your right thumb. Daisha, as a female, yours must come from the left thumb.”
“How do you know our real names?” Axel asked. “I’ve never met you in my life.”
“All of your questions will be answered shortly,” Jag said and produced two pieces of black card stock. He gripped Axel’s thumb and pressed it firmly against the paper. When he had Daisha’s print, he handed both to Larraj. The Nadi reader carefully studied the prints, stood up, and walked to the far end of the room. Because of the dim firelight, Axel hadn’t realized that all around them were rows of wooden shelves, each containing stacks of bundled palm leaves.
“I have a fingerprint match,” Larraj said, smiling. “Of course, this was just a mere formality as I have been studying these particular leaves for most of my life. The seven sages—Atri, Bhrigu, Angira, Gautama, Kashyapa, Agastya, and Vashishta—wrote them out of compassion for all of humanity. Thousands of years ago they predicted the exact date and time for when both the dark and bright sides of the moon would manifest in human form.”
“When I laid eyes on you in the courtyard,” Jag said. “I knew without a doubt you two were the dark and bright sides of the moon the prophecy had foretold.”
Larraj held up a bundle of dried palm leaves tied together with string and covered with squiggly lines. “The seven sages were living at such high levels of consciousness that they could see through time and space,” he explained. “Because of this ability, they were able to peer into the lives of people all around the world, including those not yet born. Every human who has lived or will ever live has their prophecy written on a palm leaf somewhere in this library.”
“The uniqueness of your thumbprint identifies your individual palm leaf,” Jag offered. “That is why I needed to take them.”
“The palm leaves I hold in my hands contain the very first foretelling written by the seven sages,” Larraj continued. “It is as old as our civilization itself. Th
e premonition, which is written in Sanskrit, is divinely directed at both of you.”
“Prove it,” Axel said. “What do they say specifically that identifies Daisha and me?”
Larraj read from the first palm leaf. “Young man, it says here your name is Axel. You were born on April 19. Young lady, you are Daisha. Your date of birth is August 10.
“He’s right!” Daisha cried.
“You are both only children and were born in a place called Palo Alto, California.”
A chill went up Axel’s spine. He reached out and grabbed Daisha’s hand. Her skin was clammy, and he could tell that she was just as freaked out as he was.
“How could a dried-up leaf thousands of years old contain my name, birthday, and the place I was born?” Axel wondered.
Jag pressed a finger to his lips, indicating that there was a lot more to come.
“Your parents were great teachers and scientists. They worked together on the mysteries of the universe.”
Daisha’s mouth fell open in utter astonishment.
“A very powerful red shadow murdered them in a place meant for dogs. That shadow also wants to kill you two.” Larraj turned to the next palm leaf. “From the expressions on your faces, I assume that you believe what I am saying. Correct?”
“Yes,” Axel muttered. “I’m sold. This is creepy and fascinating at the same time.”
“What I will read next does not begin at your birth, but from the moment when you will face the biggest challenge of your lives. Your moment of doubt and pain, so they say, is now. Shall we begin?”
“No…yes,” Daisha stuttered. “I-I don’t know!”
“Let’s have it,” Axel said. “Maybe it will let us know how to demagnetize this temple and save the world from the Doctor.”
Jag and Larraj shot each other a knowing glance.
“Axel, I think you may be as prophetic as the seven sages,” Larraj commented. “Are you two absolutely sure you want me to continue?”
Axel and Daisha nodded.
