“Still, someone told him,” Sawyer insisted.
“I don’t know who,” she answered. “But Judd once told me he had important connections inside the Politburo itself.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” Sawyer said. “Judd has a network of people all over the world.”
“I can believe that,” she said. A tone sounded and the seat belt and no smoking signs were turned on. She put out her cigarette. “I was in Bangladesh when I got his message.”
“You were surprised?”
She nodded. “I thought Andropov and the KGB were the only people who knew where I went after Brezhnev died.”
“Do you think they now know you’ve come here?”
“Probably. I think they know everything I do.”
“But they didn’t stop you?”
“No,” she said. “But they will contact me when they want me—or need me.”
The copter pilot’s voice came through the cabin speakers. “We are landing on the North Helipad. Fast Eddie will meet you.”
Sofia smiled. “Fast Eddie,” she said. “I’ll be happy to see him.”
***
“The Gulf Stream is about nine miles east of the island,” Fast Eddie said from behind the driver’s seat of the air-conditioned Land Rover. “Even in winter, the water’s always warm. The small tribe of Seminole Indians who lived there called it ‘The Sacred River.’”
“Very interesting,” Sofia teased him. “What do you call it?”
Fast Eddie grinned. “Boring.”
She glanced around the narrow road. “You don’t like it?”
“No.”
“And Mr. Crane, what does he think?”
He looked at her. “He doesn’t say, so I don’t know.”
“Has he really stayed there for nine months without leaving?”
“As far as I know,” Fast Eddie said. “But I go home one week out of each month.”
The car turned into a driveway in front of a small house. Fast Eddie pulled to a stop. He gestured. “Your place. There are twelve guest cottages on the island.”
She was silent for a moment. “Suddenly I have a feeling that I could use a snort. It’s been a long time.”
He looked into her eyes. “I know what you mean,” he said, taking the vial off the gold chain. Quickly he removed the cap and handed the vial and the spoon to her.
Her hands trembled slightly, then steadied as she took the hits. Both nostrils, twice. She looked at him. “That helped.”
“Good,” he said, taking it back.
“I feel frightened,” she said.
He was silent.
“Has he changed?” she went on.
“He still dopes.” Fast Eddie smiled. “So I guess he hasn’t changed completely.” He got out of the car and walked around it to open her door. “Come,” he said. “I’ll show you your place.”
The front door opened as they approached it. A black man with a white jacket held it open for them; next to him stood an attractive black lady wearing a gray blouse and skirt under a neat white apron.
“This is Max, your houseman, and his wife, Mae, your cook and maid,” Fast Eddie said. He looked at the couple. “Your guest, Dr. Ivancich.”
“How do you do?” the couple said almost in unison. “Welcome.”
“Thank you,” Sofia said. She looked into the hallway. A large living room was on one side of the entrance hall, a dining room on the other. A staircase led to the bedrooms on the floor above.
Fast Eddie turned to her. “They’ll take good care of you. Anything you want just ask.” He smiled. “The snow is in the center drawer of your dresser.”
“You’ve thought of everything,” she said.
“Not me—Mr. Crane,” he said quickly. “Dinner will be at nine o’clock. Dress casual. Max will drive you over.”
“Will there be other guests?” she asked.
“No,” he answered. “Just Mr. Crane and yourself.”
“Dr. Sawyer?”
“He’s going back to the mainland about six o’clock.”
She glanced at her watch. It was three-thirty. She was silent.
“You take it slow, Doctor,” Fast Eddie said quietly. “Relax. Take a bath. Easy. Maybe sleep a little. Don’t forget you have had a long trip to get here. When you get up, just powder your face, you’ll be surprised how much better you’ll feel then.”
She nodded. “Okay. Thank you.”
He gestured to Max. “Please bring in the doctor’s valises.” Then he turned back to Sofia. “Just remember,” he smiled. “I’m here.”
2
Judd was wearing a jogging suit and sneakers. A patina of perspiration covered his darkly bronzed face. He gestured Doc Sawyer to a seat as he spoke into the telephone. “Get rid of the fucking bank,” he said. “Tell Justice we’ll sign the consent decree.”
Merlin’s voice came through the speaker. “That’s two hundred million dollars!” He sounded shocked.
“It’s cheap,” Judd said. “How much do you think it’ll cost me if I have to spend the rest of my life in front of congressional committees answering stupid questions?”
“But we can beat them,” Merlin said.
“I don’t give a damn,” Judd said. “I’ve wasted four years with it already. Transatlantic wants it, let them have the headaches.”
“You’re the boss,” Merlin said. He laughed suddenly. “You’re probably right. Nostradamus said that this would be a bad year for financial institutions.”
Judd joined in the laughter. “Just make sure that Nostradamus allows David Rockefeller in on it.”
“I’ve missed you, Judd,” Merlin said. “When do you think you’ll be getting out of there?”
“Soon,” Judd answered. “I promised to try it for a year. Another three months should do it.”
“Be good,” Merlin said.
“I’ll try,” Judd said. He put down the telephone and looked across the desk at Doc Sawyer. “I was running when I saw the copter come in. I picked you up on the screen in the office just as you came down the steps. I thought she looked good.”
“Thinner, I thought,” Sawyer said.
“Couldn’t tell from what I could see,” Judd said. He picked up a cigarette and rolled it in his fingers. He looked down at the cigarette. “Did Sofia tell you anything about what she was doing in Bangladesh?” he questioned.
“She said nothing about it,” Sawyer answered. “Why are you curious?”
Judd threw the cigarette into a wastebasket without lighting it. “I’m guessing, but I think I know,” Judd said. “I have a feeling that the old lady gave me only some of her papers. She must have given the rest to Sofia. Our papers start when she began Fountains of Ponce de Leon in 1953 and run to date. There are many notes that refer to papers she had written before that time.”
“I read the notes,” Sawyer said. “I didn’t get that.”
“Because we hadn’t translated it yet,” Judd said. “She had written it in Urdu, the least written language in India. She quoted a swami who was then in that part of India which later became Pakistan, and then Bangladesh. The quote was from several conversations with the Maharishi Raj Naibuhr. ‘Man’s immortality can only be achieved when his internal peace becomes one with his physical environment.’ Probably that was why she wanted me to build this island.”
“Do you think that Sofia found the papers?”
Judd smiled. “If she found them in Bangladesh, it was a miracle. The Maharishi has already moved on to greener pastures.”
“You mean he’s dead?”
Judd laughed. “No. Rich. He’s the Maharishi who began a university with over two thousand students in the San Bernardino Mountains. He’s also acquired a huge tract of land north of Malibu in California.”
“Wait a minute,” Sawyer interrupted. “Is that the one they covered on television?”
“That’s the man,” Judd said. “And believe me, he’s as difficult to see in person as the President of the United States or the Premier of Ru
ssia.”
“And you think that Sofia could get to him?”
“I hope,” Judd said. “Maybe something in the papers that the old lady gave her could give her a hold on him. Also, the Maharishi is very big on wives, especially young ones—though that is not public knowledge, even to his adherents.”
“He can’t be a young man,” Sawyer said.
“I think he is in his seventies, although he’s said that he’s over one thousand years old in his current incarnation.”
“Not bad,” Sawyer laughed.
“I also have a hunch the old lady treated him, that he was one of her patients.”
Even more interesting,” Sawyer offered. “Then what do you think Sofia was doing in Bangladesh?”
“Fucked if I know,” Judd answered. “But I’ll ask.” He glanced at the doctor. “Would you like to stay for dinner?”
Sawyer shook his head. “I’d better get back to Florida. I’ve got problems up to my ass. I’m a doctor, not a businessman. Crane Medical Research and Pharmaceuticals are running in the red about three million dollars a month. Keep this up for much longer and we’d better have a big infusion of capital, or begin cutting back—perhaps even sell off some of the companies.”
“I’m sure you can handle it,” Judd said.
“Thanks,” Sawyer said. “I’m grateful for your confidence, but I’m not you. My head doesn’t work the same way.”
“The computers will give you all the information you need. It should be easy.”
“To you, not to me,” Sawyer answered. “To me, all the computer gives is just information. I still have to make the decision. And how do you pull that out of a printout?”
Judd was silent for a moment. “If you really feel that way, cut the companies until you feel comfortable enough to handle what you can.”
“I don’t think I have the right to do that. It’s your property and you should be the one to take that responsibility.”
“I’m one hundred percent behind you,” Judd said. “You can dump the whole damn thing if you want and I won’t say a word. I really don’t care.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way,” Sawyer said. “You’re a very special man, Judd Crane. And you could give many things to the world.”
“I feel very old, Lee. I’ve played all the games, and I’m bored with them.”
“You’re hardly fifty, Judd,” Sawyer said. “If you feel that way now, what makes you think the immortality you seek will make you feel younger and less bored? I think the opposite—you will be even more bored and feeling much older. Life itself is not just surviving, it’s sharing and giving.”
“I never thought you were that much of a philosopher,” Judd commented dryly.
“Neither did I,” Sawyer said. “I’m just beginning to feel that way. But I’m a doctor. I don’t know what I think anymore or what I’m supposed to be.”
Judd looked at him. “You’re tired. What you need is a vacation.”
Sawyer laughed ironically. “I don’t need a vacation, Judd,” he said simply. “I need you. Beside me, behind me, sharing with me, inspiring me. Without you I’m not the man I should be.”
Judd was silent.
“I’m not alone in that feeling,” Sawyer said softly. “Barbara, Merlin, many others, they feel as I—”
Judd interrupted, his voice flat. “Three months more,” he said. “I need that much time to decide which way I go. Can you give me that?”
“We’ve gone this far together, I can go three months more,” Sawyer said.
***
“There’s no world out there,” she said. “It’s almost as if we were in another universe.”
Sawyer stood at the foot of the bed, looking at her propped against the pillows. “It is another universe,” he said. “Judd’s universe.”
She watched him silently for a moment, then pushed away the covers and, naked, crossed the room to pick up her silk robe. She slipped into it quickly and walked toward him. “Do you have time to join me in a cup of tea?”
He nodded.
She picked up the telephone. Max answered.
“Yes, Doctor?”
“May we have some tea?”
“Yes, Doctor. Orange Pekoe Ceylon all right?” he asked.
“Perfectly,” she said.
“Biscuits or petit fours?”
“Just the tea,” she said.
“Thank you, Doctor.” The telephone clicked off. She turned to Lee. “Shall we go out on the terrace?”
Silently he followed her to the balcony. He watched her close the door. “Do you think the room is wired?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said. “Wired and video-scanned.”
“Do you know that?” he asked. She shook her head. “Then what makes you think it?” he continued.
“Intuition,” she said. “If I were he, I would have done it. Perhaps even this balcony is covered.”
He regarded her silently for a moment. “Possibly. I don’t know him anymore.”
“He’s changed?” she asked.
“Yes. And no. I can’t put my finger on it. That’s why I wanted to talk to you before I went back to the mainland. You’re a doctor. I want you to observe him and let me know what you think.”
Max knocked on the door of the balcony, brought a tray with a pot of tea, a pot of water, a small pitcher of milk, a plate of lemon slices, a jar of honey, and sugar. He placed it on the round plastic table on the balcony. “Anything else, Doctor?” he asked.
“That’s all, thank you,” she said. She began to pour the tea as he left, closing the door behind him. She waited until he left the bedroom beyond before she spoke again. She gave him a cup of tea. “You’re his doctor,” she said. “What makes you think that I could see more than you? You’ve known him so many more years than I have.”
“This is the first I’ve seen of him since he moved to the island. Our only contact has been by telephone and the computer printout of his weekly physical examination.”
“Then he has a doctor in attendance here?”
“No,” he said. “There are several nurses who oversee the machines that are wired to him, for that purpose.”
“That Irish girl, Bridget, is she still with him?”
“No,” he answered. “She left him in New York not long after you’d gone.”
“Do you know the nurses?” she asked.
“Not personally,” he answered. “Though I’ve hired them all, of course. Basically, they’re more medical and engineering technicians than nurses. They know more about the machines and the computer than they do about medicine.”
“Do you have a copy of the latest printout?”
He took a folded sheet of paper from an inside coat pocket and gave it to her. She glanced at it quickly. After a moment she looked up at him.
“Interesting,” she said. “All his physical functions have been slowed, heartbeat, blood pressure, body temperature. Lung capacity has increased despite lesser breathing speed. Blood tests and urinalysis normal.” She returned the folded printout. “According to this, he’s in very good condition. What worries you?”
He looked at her as she sipped the tea. “His head,” he said. “Before, he was never bored. Now, nothing interests him.”
“Maybe what he needs is a psychiatrist, not me,” she said.
“Maybe,” he answered. “But you are the only one I can trust.” He met her eyes. “Would you help?”
She met his gaze. “I don’t know how much help I can be, but I’ll try.”
Sawyer nodded. “The only thing that I know for sure is that we have to bring him back to this universe. I have a feeling that the kind of immortality he’s seeking is only another form of decay.”
3
A few minutes after Sawyer had gone, a soft knock came from the door. “Come in,” she called.
The maid entered, a large dress box in her arms. “Mr. Crane sent this for you, Doctor,” she said.
Sofia looked at the box. Christian Dior. She turned t
o the maid. “Would you be kind enough to open it for me?”
“Yes, Doctor.” She handed a small envelope to her. “This is also for you.”
Sofia opened the envelope. The card inside had his name imprinted on it, the other side was in his handwriting. “I bought this for you, but you were gone before I could give it to you. I hope this time it won’t be too late. Judd.”
The box was already open. Sofia took out the dress. It was a long, white silk sheath evening gown, two shoestring straps over the left shoulder and slit on either side from the floor almost to the thighs. “It’s beautiful,” she said. “But I don’t think I can get into it. It’s too small.”
“Why don’t you try it on, Doctor,” the maid said. “If it needs just a small adjustment, perhaps Max could do it.”
“I don’t know,” Sofia hesitated.
“It won’t hurt you to try,” the maid urged.
Sofia hesitated a moment. “Wait for me,” she said. She went into the bathroom, placed her robe on a hook and tried to bring the dress down over her arms. “I can’t bring it down over my shoulders,” she called through the open door.
Mae was standing in the doorway. “That’s not the way,” she said. “Step into the dress and pull it up.”
Sofia followed Mae’s instruction. The dress felt as if she had a second skin. She looked at herself in the full-length mirror. It was a second skin. Her nipples jutted against the material, her hips and buttocks seemed molded into the dress, almost splitting the material apart. She looked at the maid in the mirror. “It’s too tight,” she said. “One movement and it will split open.”
“It won’t,” Mae said. “The material gives.”
“Even if it does,” Sofia said, “I can’t wear anything like this. It makes me look completely nude.”
“Mr. Crane would like that,” Mae said.
Sofia turned to her. “What makes you think that?”
“You don’t work for nine months without knowing what your boss likes or doesn’t like.”
“He’s had many girls here?” Sofia asked.
Mae hesitated, not answering.
“You can talk to me,” Sofia said. “I’m one of his doctors, even though I am a woman.”
“I don’t know—” Mae said.
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