Seeking Sirius
Page 23
* * *
Pearson had agreed to monitor the autopilot. The next thing she heard was him saying, “Alexa, wake up. You should take it back.”
A dark shape swooped over at high speed. Their little plane shook and dipped in the vortices left in that craft’s wake.
“What the hell,” said Alexa. The excessive turbulence tripped off the autopilot. She brought her plane to wings level and checked bearings. “Everyone, cinch up your seat belts.”
The dark shape turned and came for another pass. As it approached the shape became identifiable as a shuttle, not some underworld bat thing.
“You’re not going to hit us,” muttered Alexa, “because you’d go down also. Two can play this game.” It was as if her grandfather sat by her, coaching her as he always did. She kept the plane steady on course, not giving an inch.
The shuttle veered away, trailing a wake that could have accomplished its seeming goal if Alexa had panicked. Their plane bucked wildly for what seemed a stomach-churning eternity. Alexa asked, “How close are we to Allahabad?”
Pearson said, “Within hailing distance.”
“Good. Get them on the radio.”
Pearson consulted the pad and rotated two knobs. “Ready,” he said.
Alexa called into her headset, “May Day, May Day, May Day. Allahabad. Allahabad Tower. This is November5337Victor, five miles east, at 3500 feet, declaring an emergency.”
“November5337Victor, this is Allahabad Tower. We copy your May Day. State the nature of your emergency. Do you require assistance?”
“Allahabad Tower, this is November5337Victor. I have a shuttle buzzing me, perhaps trying to force me to land. Did you register our near mid-air collision on your radar? Are you in contact with this aircraft? A shuttle. Over.”
The shuttle was on the left, coming at them fast.
“November5337Victor, this is Allahabad Tower. One craft in the area is not talking to us. We continue to hail it.”
The shuttle aimed directly at the plane’s nose. It seemed to hesitate, if that was possible. Then from Alexa’s vantage it appeared the shuttle even put on speed. At the last possible second and a distance too close for safety the shuttle slid up and streaked past their nose, entangling the plane in its wash. Reacting on sheer reflex, Alexa rolled the plane to the right along with the wash, completing a 360-degree turn before coming back level. The back end of the shuttle disappeared behind them, flying low, perhaps to circumvent radar.
Alexa took a breath and realized she hadn’t noticed a conscious thought until it was all done. But Rachel noticed, and understood. She reached forward and touched Alexa’s shoulder. “Good job.”
Alexa felt as if she might go into shock, if given the opportunity. Undeniably and automatically, she’d taken the right actions. Her grandfather had accomplished his stated mission of training her well, if at the expense of his own killer heart attack during this very maneuver in the skies over Florida.
After enough time to verify no collision was imminent, the Tower voice came on again. “November5337Victor, what is your status? Do you require assistance?”
By this time, the lights of Allahabad and the airport west of the city were visible.
“Negative, Tower, we’re okay,” said Alexa. “Standby for intentions.” Off microphone, she asked, “What time is it and how long to drive from the airport to the event?”
Pearson checked. It was thirteen minutes past midnight. No way.
All of Alexa’s good feelings from conquering the doubt vanished. “Not enough time.” She hit the dashboard once. “I should have figured this out before I fell asleep.”
“Let’s fly by the event,” said Rachel. “Where is it?”
“Along the Ganges,” put in Zaire, “where two rivers meet.”
Alexa took time to control her emotions. “Allahabad Tower this is November5337Victor, requesting a transition from west to east through your airspace, at 3500 feet. We will continue to our destination.”
Chapter 39
It was easy to locate the Ganges, India's mother river flowing from the Himalayas to the ocean. Alexa followed the wide, black ribbon, rimmed by city lights. Northwest of where another dark line merged with the Ganges from the west, a vast space lay, relatively devoid of light. It must be land because it showed numerous small fires.
Zaire leaned from the backseat. “That area, there,” he pointed to where Alexa was looking. “That’s the Kumbh Mela. Across the Ganges is a tent city. Are you aware an entrance pass is required?”
Alexa responded, “Considering millions of people attended even in, um, in past years, I’m not surprised.”
“It is late at night,” put in Pearson. “Not having passes is perhaps less of a problem.”
“Hope so,” said Alexa. She eyed the multiple strands of lights bobbing between east and west banks, twinkling as a many-strand diamond necklace; probably lighted pontoon bridges. Also from east to west, a hundred feet or more above the entire Kumbh Mela area, spanned a cement overpass for vehicles.
Across from the event and north of the tent city, a long gray line traced a good length of the river. Almost for sure a beach. Periodic lights at the water's edge illuminated the area enough to show the beach as almost deserted.
“What time is it?” Alexa asked.
Pearson responded. “Twenty four minutes past midnight.”
“Are there any boats on the river around this area?”
Zaire spoke. “Yes. In fact, many would be available during one of the special dipping times. Not too many are rowing tonight probably.”
“Will they understand we’re coming in to land?”
“Fly low once,” said Zaire. “Let them know you’re around. This aircraft is an ancient antique. And how you know how to fly it, I must find out some time. Fly low over them and they should get the hint.”
Rachel piped up, “Do you think he’s there? Is it worth the gamble of landing on the beach?”
Four people stared at Alexa. No debate inside her head was necessary. An excitement had been building in her since she first saw the site. “I think he’s there. It’s risky. But it’s the only chance we have to arrive in time.”
Alexa headed down for a first pass, flying low enough to see men and women pointing at them and running around. It became clear the people understood, when some of the men began moving items off to the side. It all looked clear except for a small shack at the far south end of the beach.
“That’s a good sign,” said Alexa. “We will land on the beach. It is long enough and looks flat enough, given it’s all good sand.” She banked to fly north into the wind. “Everybody make sure they’re strapped in.”
To Alexa's considerable relief, the landing was much smoother than their previous one on Adalans. Her ease morphed into unease, however, when she spied a boat aiming at their shore, a motor providing it a pretty good speed. The vessel changed course to intercept them as she turned the plane around to power to the south end of their landing strip to be closer to the Kumbh Mela. Boats lined the shore, barely pulled onto the sand.
“Zaire, we could really use your help.”
Since they landed, Zaire like the others had been craning to see out both windows. “How?”
“Who do you think that is, there, coming toward us?”
“Easy. It’s Varshana Vagwhatar. She must have figured out your intended destination hours ago and would have gotten here, one way or another.”
Alexa nodded in agreement and turned to Donny. “Do you still have the cap you were wearing earlier today?”
Donny pursed his lips. Murmuring, “Yeah,” he eased it out of his pocket.
The plane rolled to a stop.
“Zaire would you wear that cap. Pearson would you and Zaire go find two women, one who would be willing to wear,” Alexa reached in her bag and brought out the scarf Donny bought for Rachel, “ask her to wear this.” Alexa looked pointedly at the vessel bearing down on their position. It was about two minutes from arrival. “An
d arrange for someone to take you, and them, on a chase.” They agreed at once.
“Rachel, Donny,” both looked at her, “we are going to slink, even crawl if necessary, over to another boat and see if we can elude that woman.” They all piled out of the plane as the propeller stopped. While she jogged low over to the shore, Pearson handed over money to a man on the beach and then join Zaire.
Five minutes later, the three of them hid low and out of sight. Two men were rowing them across the Ganges, because no other motor craft were available.
The water slapped at the wooden sides and Alexa wondered if the Ganges had been cleaned up over the recent hundreds of years. It smelled wet and pure, possibly helped by the scent of flowers in the air.
Two crafts with outboard engines passed in front of them, and later behind. The men rowing their own boat responded brilliantly, as in they did nothing special. After a second pass of the chase and then developing silence, Alexa released her breath. Perhaps this will work.
If any place could support the good guys, this was one of them. For as many as 2400 years, the Kumbh Mela had been held periodically at the confluence of the Holy Ganges, the deep blue Yamuna River and the Saraswati, a third invisible river that partly gave the spot its special nature. Would all this specialness be helpful in their earnest efforts to locate the Master SivSatyananda, and beg for his assistance in transporting them home? “I hope so,” she whispered.
Probably only minutes remained before SivSat departed.
As their vessel crunched on the sandy shore, Donny handed over payment. Alexa leaped into the water and waded out. Donny jumped and reached to help Rachel, who responded “I can do this by myself,” though she did take his hand. The three of them dashed up the bank.
Alexa asked the first person she saw, “SivSatyananda?” The woman looked at her in confusion. Alexa repeated, “SivSatyananda? Do you know where is SivSat?” The woman smiled and nodded, and pointed to the right half of the area. The trio sprinted in that direction.
Alexa didn’t realize her scarf slipped off her hair until a group of people pointed at her and said in unison, “Alexa Jane Alden!” One of the men came at her and stood in her path. “It is you,” he said, spreading his arms. “The news station said you might come here.” Another man joined him. They were using up precious time. “Will you share your prize with us?”
“Yes. But first, we must find SivSatyananda. Do you know where he is?”
“Yes, yes,” said the man, rocking his head from side to side. “I will take you to him.”
Almost the entire group followed along, she couldn’t stop them. At every turn another person called out, “Alexa Jane Alden,” and joined the procession. Alexa tried to run, to keep them at the fastest possible pace. People would dash in front of her grinning, then fall in with the group. They passed sadhus, men who would shock her grandfather to the core since they wore no clothes at all, having renounced everything, including clothes and cooking food. They also passed robots, simple formats with hardly any human-type features, though with enough sense of self-preservation to bolt out of the way of the crowd bearing down upon them.
A large tent came into sight ahead of them. No side flaps, thousands of people inside and more streaming in and out. They were aiming at that tent. People beside her sang out, “SivSat, SivSat, SivSat.” Those they passed gestured to the tent. This happened over and over again.
Alexa could see inside the tent, sort of. Everyone seemed to be facing away from the river. He must be sitting there, looking out over the Ganges. Alexa caught Rachel and Donny’s attention, pointed and redoubled her effort to run, moving past a couple of men who had paced her from the beginning. Side by side, the three drew forward and flat-out dashed toward the tent. Racing against time. Soon. Soon.
Alexa, Rachel and Donny were almost to the tent’s entrance, where they could get a view of the stage.
They reached the main entrance.
A great cry arose. It must have been every single person roaring at the same moment. People began spilling out of the tent. All kinds of languages swirled around them. Some yelled in English, “Miracle. It’s a miracle.”
A salmon, swimming against the surge, she kept wading forward. Then entered and peeled off to the side, where Alexa found a box to stand on, to see down to the front.
An ornate stage, covered in rich saffron and red. And a bench.
Empty. The bench was empty.
Chapter 40
“It was a miracle,” a man said to a friend as he passed by. “I saw it with my own eyes.”
Amidst the emptiness inside her, Alexa found an ability to speak. “What miracle? Where is SivSatyananda?”
“He disappeared, into thin air. I tell you, honestly, into thin air, right in front of us.”
“Disappeared?” Disappointment threatened to drown her. “Where did he go?”
“He did not tell us. He said he must leave, to accomplish a great deed.”
His friend came over. “Alexa Jane Alden, are you not? You have been on the news. Will you share your prize with us?”
Alexa had about lost all patience with this particular question. She managed a weak smile. “If I actually receive a great prize, I would be happy to share it with you all.”
“Ah, good,” said the man, bobbing his head side to side. “Very good karma.”
Alexa stepped off the box to join Rachel and Donny. They stood there for some time, staring at the milling crowd. Alexa’s gaze focused for a moment when Pearson ran in the front entrance, whipping his head both directions, searching for them. He walked up and quietly took position beside her.
“Alexa Jane Alden? Are you Miss Alden?” yet another man asked. This one wore a saffron orange robe. You never know, a Brahmin might want a share of the theoretical prize, too.
Alexa sighed. Dear God in Heaven, when will this stop? Instead of screaming at the man, she opted to simply answer his question, “Yes.”
“SivSat asked me to find you, if I could.”
Alexa was prepared to deny having any treasure to share, thus it took a moment for her to understand what he said. She peered at him more carefully. “SivSatyananda was looking for me?”
“Yes,” said the monk. “Time was running out for him to depart. He asked some of us to keep watch for you.”
“He was looking for me?” She almost wailed, “Why didn’t he wait? We were so close.”
“The moment for his departure was determined by the stars. Still, SivSat asked his personal secretary to help you if possible.”
Both Rachel and Donny came in close for the conversation. “How,” entreated Rachel. “How can he help us?”
“You can ask him. He is waiting for you near your plane.”
As one they turned for the exit. Alexa yelled “thank you,” over her shoulder and ran.
* * *
They dashed up the beach from the motorized boat to find no one near the plane, or anywhere in sight. The fact no people were around was astonishing. The plane being unusual, you would think someone would hang out nearby to see what might happen. Nevertheless, the area was deserted.
The group stopped near the plane and looked every which direction, searching for anybody, a single soul. A dog slept, curled in a ball up against the shack she’d noticed from the air. The dilapidated structure squatted between the beach and fields of flowers perfuming the air. No door was visible but she had to know what, or who, might be inside. Without a word, she took off and sprinted with Rachel, Donny and Pearson following. Around the corner, the door was ajar. Whether this was normal, or not, she could not know.
At the opening, Alexa stopped and peered in. Donny came up right behind her, muttering under his breath, “I can’t believe how deserted it is around here.”
A lamp shone in the back left corner, and a man sat cross-legged on a few burlap bags on a large crate near the lamp. He wore robes of saffron orange. Alexa strode half way across the space and stopped.
The monk spoke first. “I asked
the kind boatmen if we might have some privacy.”
“Hello, sir. My name is Alexa Jane Alden. Is it possible you are looking for me?”
The monk smiled. “Very good. Yes, I have been waiting for you, Miss Alden.”
Alexa recognized his consciousness, the profound depth of his understanding of life. She’d experienced this as a child near a preacher her grandmother followed. And she’d noticed it over and over again, listening to Brahmaji. The impulse to sit at the man’s feet and wait until he spoke, almost won.
“We barely missed seeing SivSat,” she said.
“Yes, we could tell time was becoming short.”
Alexa felt prickles on her neck. “You knew we were coming?”
“The sound of the plane is quite distinctive.”
“How could you know it was us, that we wanted to see SivSat?”
“He knew. And asked us to assist, if we can.”
Rachel spoke up. “You say, ‘If you can.’ What does that mean?”
“What do you want?”
How to ask for the impossible? It seemed outrageous. Despite all she and Rachel and Donny went through to arrive at this place and moment, it was difficult to say the words. “A miracle,” replied Alexa. “We desire a miracle.”
Wordlessly, he indicated she should continue.
“We are from many years ago, about 950 years ago.” She waited for him to scoff. He didn’t. “We want to go home, to our time, to our lives there. I mean, then. To our lives then.” He was quiet for a bit. Alexa realized she did not know how to address him. “May we know your title, sir?”
Again that smile: full, easy, no irony, no rush, all the time in the world. “I am not so important as to use a title. I assist SivSatyananda in any manner I can. You may address me as he does, Trotaka. It is an ancient name and I aspire to be as the one of old.”
“Thank you, Trotaka, sir,” Alexa said. “Thank you for your attention and your help, if you can.”
He peeked around Alexa to take in the whole group. “There are four of you.”