“And just what does that mean?” Venus interrupted.
“I was referring to Nova!” Pluto muttered. “Not you!”
Decker broke in. “Why don’t we look for the girl. We can start with her room.”
Venus explained, “Lyra’s housed with the teens.”
“Take me to the quarters.” To the men, Decker said, “You two go round up the roommates. I’ll want to talk to them.”
“Oh, God!” Pluto muttered. “And just what are we supposed to tell Moriah?”
“She won’t care.” Bob brushed him off.
“What do you mean, she won’t care!” Once again, Pluto was outraged. “Of course, she’ll care!”
“Pluto, she’s incapable of caring. She’s whacked out—”
“This is how you refer to one of our most spiritual—”
“Pluto, she isn’t spiritual, she’s psychotic!”
“She’s mentally ill?” Decker asked.
“Without a doubt,” Bob answered.
Decker was appalled. “You house a psychotic woman here?”
Without warning, Bob turned into something wild and furious. “Before you start passing judgment, let me tell you something. Moriah had been in and out of treatment centers and hospitals for nearly fifteen years of her thirty-year-old life. When Brother Pluto found her, she and her daughter—who was about five at the time—were living in a cardboard box dirtied by their own excrement. Pluto, out of charity, took them in. For eight years, we’ve been caring for Lyra as one of our own and have kept Moriah clean, neat and well fed, which is more than her own parents have ever done. When we found her, they had disowned her. Except now that Lyra is growing into a young lady, they’re making noise, sending threatening letters to the Order—”
“Oh, my God and Jupiter!” Venus broke in.
“Oh, no!” Bob slapped his forehead. “Andromeda wasn’t the target! It was Lyra!” Again, he hit his brow. “Those bastards! With all the confusion, they finally managed to snatch her.” He began to pace. “This is even worse than I thought. Andromeda was probably protecting Lyra when Asnikov struck. I hope to God and Jupiter that he didn’t hurt Andromeda while trying to get Lyra!”
Pluto turned his wrath on Decker. “Now do you believe us?”
The unfortunate scenario had the ring of truth. Because this time, the victim was a child.
Bob was muttering. “This is just terrible!” He turned a furious face on Decker. “You gotta mow that monster down!”
“Priorities.” Decker was talking as much to himself as he was to Bob. “First, let’s see if Lyra’s under your roof.”
15
Trying to narrow down a time frame for the missing woman and teenaged girl, Marge sat in a makeshift headquarters set up in a spare bedroom cell. Barely enough room for two chairs and a card table, but it would serve the purpose. Guru Bob had offered it as a workstation, a sign that official intervention was welcome although it wasn’t apparent from Pluto’s attitude. The little man continued to spout accusations.
Vega, one of Lyra’s roommates, was sent in to Marge before evening meditations, around 4 P.M. The fourteen-year-old seemed small for her age. But Marge knew she was judging not only by American standards but by her own taller-than-average height. Or perhaps it was the girl’s posture: the stooped shoulders and the hunched back, thin arms hugging her books when she walked in the room.
Garbed in white—like the dress of the other children whom Marge had seen—Vega was of mixed race. She had a bronze complexion, poker-straight black hair, and blue almond-shaped eyes that slanted upward. Marge pointed to the chair and the teen sat down in a ramrod-stiff position. Clearly, she had been instructed to sit that way. She was still embracing her tomes, so Marge took them from her and placed them on the floor. The girl clasped her hands and laid them in her lap. Marge smiled, but Vega did not smile back.
Marge pressed the record button on her machine and placed it close to Vega. She asked, “Do you know why you’re here?”
Vega nodded.
“An affirmative nod,” Marge said into the machine. “Tell me why you’re here.”
“Because Andromeda and Lyra are missing. You are asking us for help.”
Her voice sounded flat…robotic. Marge said, “You’re roommates with Lyra, aren’t you?”
Vega nodded.
“Again, an affirmative nod,” Marge stated. “Vega, could you please answer yes or no. The recorder can pick up your response that way. Did Lyra sleep in her bed last night?”
“Correct.”
“Do you remember seeing her when you woke up?”
“Correct.”
“Do you remember seeing her dressed and ready for school?”
“I believe you mean ready for morning meditation and breakfast.”
“Okay. Do you remember seeing her ready for meditation and breakfast?”
“Correct.”
“Around what time did you leave for…what comes first? Meditation or breakfast?”
“Meditation.”
“And what time is that?”
“Seven in the morning.”
“So you remember seeing her at seven this morning?”
“Correct.”
“Then you ate at what time?”
“Seven-thirty.”
“Did she eat breakfast with you?”
“Correct.”
“And then what do you do after breakfast?”
“More meditation.”
“Okay. What time was the second meditation?”
“Eight o’clock.”
“And was Lyra with you at eight?”
“Correct.”
“Then what did you do after the second meditation?”
“We went to the classroom.”
“Did Lyra go with you to the classroom?”
Vega pressed her lips together. “I…think…so. But I am not positive. Our teacher Andromeda was not there. So things were confusing.”
“What time was this?”
“Class instructions start at eight-thirty. So it must have been eight-thirty. We are always punctual.”
“And Andromeda wasn’t there in your classroom at eight-thirty.”
“No, she was not. This confused all of us.”
“Was Lyra with you at this…confusing time?”
“I think so. But as I said, it was confusing.”
“Was any adult waiting for you in the classroom?”
“No one. This is what was so confusing. Eventually, our teacher Terra came in. She was surprised to find that our teacher Andromeda was not in. She was confused as well.”
“Around what time was that?”
“Around nine. I believe one of the boys went to get her. Because we were so confused.”
“So from eight-thirty to nine, there was no teacher in your class.”
“Correct.”
“What did you do?”
“What did we do? I do not understand the question.”
Marge said, “You didn’t have any teacher for a half hour. What did you do while you waited for someone to show up?”
“We sat in our seats.”
Marge waited for more. When it didn’t come, she said, “You sat in your seats?”
“Correct.”
“Did you talk?”
“No, we did not talk. We waited quietly. Perhaps a few of us meditated. But that is allowable as long as it is silent.”
“Just sat there meditating…or waiting?”
“Correct.”
“No talking?”
“No. No talking.”
Marge put down her pencil. “Do you like it here, Vega?”
The girl’s eyes registered confusion. “It is my home. Of course, I like my home.”
“What do you like about it?”
“Like?”
“Yes, like. What do you enjoy doing?”
“I enjoy everything.”
Marge paused. “You enjoy everything?”
“Correct.” She still mai
ntained her rigid posture.
“Do you like any one thing…something special?”
The girl gave the question some thought. “Our Father Jupiter was an expert at science. I suppose I like science the best.”
“Science is a big category. What part of science do you like the best?”
“Perhaps particle physics—the different colors of the electromagnetic spectrum that are elicited when atoms are excited then fall back to their resting states. This week, Guru Bob is to teach us about the different family of mesons, bosons and tau mesons. I think that should be very interesting.”
Marge tried not to stare with an open mouth. “Very interesting.”
For the first time, the girl gave a half-smile. “So you must also like quantum physics. I see we have much in common. You would like it here, too. Perhaps you can become one of our beloved teachers.”
Marge felt a sharp ping inside her chest—this little, stilted and stifled girl, trying to relate to her. It was hard to fathom that she was fourteen. When Marge had worked juvey, the teens she had pulled in were cynical and world-weary. This one was so naive, it hurt. Just a kid, begging to be liked. “I would like that, Vega, except I’m not trained as a teacher. I’m trained as a policewoman. You do know what that is, don’t you?”
“Of course.” She remained grave as she spoke. “You protect and maintain the outside disorder from falling into absolute chaos. But you only make temporary, remedial solutions. The outside society is far too entropic for any permanent state of rest.”
Obviously spitting back lines she had learned from her fearless leaders. But the assessment wasn’t all that far off. “If we could get back to Lyra and Andromeda now?”
The girl nodded in sincerity. “Certainly. Whatever is your wish.”
Marge tried not to sigh. “You said that Terra came into your classroom at around nine in the morning.”
“Correct.”
“And then what happened?”
“She asked where our teacher Andromeda was. Of course, no one knew. We were all confused.”
“And then what happened?”
“She told us to go meditate with her class—with the younger children—while she sorted out the confusion. We waited with our teacher Terra’s class of younger children.”
“Now this is very important, Vega. Do you remember if Lyra came with you into Terra’s class?”
“No, I do not remember if Lyra came. The last time I distinctly remember seeing Lyra was at breakfast.”
“Vega, did Lyra seem happy here at the Order?”
“Of course.”
“So she never complained to you about the Order?”
“No, never.”
“Did she ever talk to you about her grandparents?”
“I did not even know that she had living grandparents.”
“Do you have living grandparents, Vega?”
“I do not know. My true family is in the Order of the Rings of God.”
Marge forced herself not to pass judgment. It wouldn’t help the case, and it could cause her stress. She said, “So Lyra never spoke to you about her grandparents.”
“Correct.”
“And you don’t remember if she went with you over to Terra’s class?”
“Correct. I do not remember.”
“The last time you remember seeing her was at breakfast.”
“At breakfast. That is correct.”
“Do you have any idea where either Lyra or Andromeda might be?”
“No.”
Marge looked deep in the teen’s flat eyes, projecting her own emotions back through the vacant mirrors. “Vega, are you worried about Lyra? Or about Andromeda?”
The teen bit her lip. “It would be nice to locate them. I like Lyra. And I like our teacher Andromeda very much.”
“Why did you like her?”
The girl’s bottom lip quivered. The first hint of honest emotion. “She was very kind. And she has a very nice and wide smile. If you do not find her, I will miss her.”
Slowly, a real tear rolled down her cheek. She made no attempt to wipe it away.
“She read us a book about a little prince boy once. He flew all over the galaxies and had many adventures.”
“The Little Prince?” Marge asked. “By Saint-Exupéry?”
“Correct. That is the book.”
Marge smiled. “You know, Vega, we do have much in common. I loved those stories, too. I had to read them when I was around your age in French class.”
“We read them in English, but Andromeda said that maybe one day we would learn them in French.”
“So she read you The Little Prince, huh?”
“Correct.” A sigh. “They were very silly stories and eventually Guru Pluto took the book away, saying it was too fanciful—which it was. Still…” Another deep sigh followed by another tear. “They were beautiful stories.”
When it became clear that Lyra wasn’t anywhere in the compound, Pluto called a meeting in the temple. Decker showed early, with Oliver and Marge following a few minutes later.
Oliver said, “I don’t see what good a meeting’s going to do.”
“Agreed,” Decker said. “What about talking to Lyra’s mother?”
Marge said, “She doesn’t talk, Loo. She rocks on her butt and babbles. I don’t think she’s faking either.”
Oliver added, “Looks like the real labonza.”
“Well then, we’ve exhausted our use here,” Decker said. “If we think Lyra was genuinely kidnapped by her grandparents, interviewing them is the next step.”
“Do we think that Lyra was kidnapped?” Marge asked.
“I don’t know,” Decker said.
Oliver said, “You know, it’s like someone’s trying to dismantle the place—first Jupiter, then a missing woman and child.”
“What do the missing persons have to do with Jupiter’s suicide?” Marge asked.
“I don’t know if it has anything to do with it,” Oliver answered. “It could be like Pluto claimed—that someone took advantage during all the confusion to kidnap the kid or the woman or both.”
Decker asked, “Does anyone have the names of the grandparents?”
Marge shook her head. “Too busy interviewing adolescent girls.” She sighed. “God, I feel for them. They’re trapped here, living in a lifeless world of particle physics and Einsteinian relativity. Whatever happened to proms, dances and Friday night football games?”
Decker nodded, often having similar thoughts when he scrutinized his own sons’ school. The boys attended classes from seven to five-thirty, and two nights a week were filled with evening lessons. The school was mixed, but the classes were single-sexed. No big surprise that a “wired” kid like Jacob would cut school to steal a quick feel. But Decker would never voice his opinion to Rina. Certain things were immutable and had to remain so if the marriage was going to survive. Rina’s religious lifestyle was as programmed in her as her genes for black hair.
Oliver said, “None of the kids I talked to remember Lyra going into Terra’s class. Which means she’d been missing since…what…around nine in the morning?” He turned to Decker. “When did you get the call, Loo?”
“Around twelve-thirty.”
Marge asked, “About four hours and no one notices she’s gone?”
Decker said, “They were focused on Andromeda, not on the kids.”
“Still…”
“I agree,” Decker said. “Something’s funny.”
A moment later, Guru Bob arrived with a deferential Terra in tow.
Marge said, “Hi, Terra, we meet again.” She introduced the girlish woman to the others.
Guru Bob said, “Terra worked with Andromeda. I thought she could give you nice people here some insight.” He urged her with a pat on the back. “Tell them if Andromeda would just pack up and leave the Order on her own.”
“No, she would not!” Terra’s voice was ethereal. “Never would she leave us.”
Bob circled Terra, sizi
ng her up as if she were on the witness stand. “What about Lyra? Would she leave on her own?”
“Lyra would never leave. She was a child, and unlike Andromeda, she had no resources. She was clearly taken—kidnapped.”
Bob looked at Decker as if to say, “There you go.”
Well, that solves everything, Bob. Decker asked, “Do you have any ideas where she might have been taken?”
Bob started, “She was taken by her grandparents—”
“So you’ve said,” Decker answered. “You’ve mentioned threatening letters that the grandparents sent the Order. I’ll need to see them—”
Pluto burst into the temple, charging down the aisle. “What is she doing here?” He pointed to Terra, stabbing her with his cold eyes. “Who did you leave in charge of the children?”
In the same ethereal voice, she said, “They are at dinner, Guru Pluto.”
“And who is supervising dinner?”
“Brother Ansel and Brother Bear,” Bob said. “With those two in charge, things will be under control.”
Pluto seemed barely mollified. But he didn’t add anything.
Bob said, “Terra, tell them what you told me…about Andromeda.”
Terra talked as if programmed. “Andromeda had grave concerns about being abducted by Reuben Asnikov—”
“That monster!” Pluto spat out. “When is he going to be held accountable for his crimes?”
“We’re getting to that,” Bob answered. “Go on, Terra.”
The young woman said, “But Andromeda was equally worried about Lyra. Her grandparents—Moriah’s parents—had been writing her letters. The letters stated that they had hired Asnikov to return her to them—”
“Wait a minute, wait a minute!” Decker interrupted. “The grandparents had written letters to their grandchild?” He turned to Bob. “I thought you said they’d written threatening letters to the Order.”
Bob said, “Maybe they were writing letters to everyone.”
“Can someone please show me these letters?” Decker asked.
Terra said, “Lyra showed the letters to Andromeda. Later on, Andromeda confided in me and said—”
“Who has the letters?” Decker interrupted.
No one spoke.
Decker asked, “I take this to mean that no one has them?”
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