Thirst No. 4 (43 page)

Her clarity surprises me. “I didn’t know your intuition was so sharp.”

“I thought you did. Wasn’t my intuition the reason the IIC paid Marko a ton of money to whack me?”

“You have a point. Tell me more about what you saw during the session.”

Shanti returns to drying her hair. “Like I said, I could hear you and Umara exchanging thoughts. You said something about having to die to know the truth and she said you had already died.”

“Then what happened?”

“It was strange, I felt like I was back on that mountain where Teri broke her leg. You were there, and Seymour and Matt. Only it was right after you got shot. You were lying on the ground, dead.”

“Did you see anything else? Did you see my spirit?”

“I think I felt it nearby. But I’m not sure.”

“That was the start of my journey into the underworld.”

“Really? What was that like? Did you see Krishna?”

“My whole experience, it was like a Greek myth. I took a tunnel down into the underworld. There I met people who had recently died, and others who had died ages ago, all wandering beside a black river. It was like the River Styx. There were ferrymen that would take you across the river, but only if you answered the riddle they asked.”

“What did they ask you?”

“That part’s hard to recall. When they would ask a question, if you didn’t get it right, you’d forget it right away.”

“How many riddles did they ask?”

“Three. I remember that much. I got the last one right. That’s
why the guy took me across the river. He asked, ‘What’s the greatest secret in the universe?’ I told him that Krishna’s name was identical with Krishna. That’s why repeating it was so magical.”

Shanti is impressed, which is understandable, given the fact that she is a Hindu. “That’s straight out of the Vedas.”

“I know,” I say quietly.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“You suddenly look sad.”

“I’m not sad.”
I’m doomed,
I want to scream. The answer got me across the river but that’s as far as it got me. It was all a bunch of lies, what the Vedic scriptures said, a monster like me could never be saved.

“Try to remember another riddle,” Shanti says.

“I told you, I got them wrong so I forgot them right away.” I pause. “But I do remember this witch. I wasn’t sure why I ran into her. She was in charge of an invisible bridge that crossed a chasm. She kept pushing me to kiss her. If I did, she promised to take me to the other side of the cliff. But there was something wrong about her. I didn’t trust her. Her face was all scarred . . .” I stop. “Oh, Shanti, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that her scars made her a bad person.”

Shanti’s lower lip trembles but she hides it by quickly shaking her head. “That’s all right. People are always judging others by how they look. It gets programmed into everyone that beautiful is good and ugly is evil.”

“I really am sorry.”

“Continue with your story. It’s fascinating.”

“There was something else about the witch. She was beautiful to start with. It was only when I got close to her, and said no to her offer, that she changed.”

“Did she ask you a riddle?”

“The ferryman was the only one who did that. But I was told each riddle was supposed to be important. They were supposed to be clues to help a person on their way.”

“How did you get past the witch?”

“It’s funny you should ask. The second riddle came back to me when I was wrestling with her. The ferryman asked, ‘What’s the greatest quality a human can possess? The one quality that can be the most dangerous?’” I pause. “Do you know the answer?”

Shanti makes a face. “That’s tough. There are so many good qualities that, when you take them too far, end up being bad.”

“Say you didn’t take the quality too far. Say you just interpreted it backwards.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I didn’t either. That’s why I got it wrong.”

“Then how do you remember it?” Shanti asks.

“Like I said, the answer came to me later, when I was with the witch. It helped me get away from her.”

“What’s the answer?”

“Come on, Shanti! You have to at least guess.”

She laughs as she combs her hair. “I’m going to say discipline. If you’re disciplined, you can accomplish almost anything in life. But if you’re too disciplined, you never take time off to enjoy yourself.” She giggles. “Am I right?”

“You’re close.”

“How close?”

“Well, not that close. The correct answer is faith.”

Shanti frowns. “How can faith be bad?”

“Krishna gave a talk on faith. It’s in Yaksha’s book. It’s brilliant. First he describes how faith can allow you to accomplish anything in life. How a deep confidence in oneself allows you to overcome all obstacles. He explains how absolute faith can even lead to God.”

Shanti nods. “That’s what I was taught growing up.”

“There’s another side to faith. Krishna was probably the first person to use the phrase ‘blind faith.’ He said that faith without experience was useless. To believe something just because you’re told to believe it leads to dogma and deeper bondage.”

“But isn’t that the point of faith? No one can be sure if there’s a God or not. You just have to believe in him.”

“I believe Krishna’s approach to spirituality was more scientific. He said that whatever path you follow in life, you should uncover small proofs along the way so you know you’re going the right way. Otherwise, you could end up chasing illusions.”

“I can’t imagine a talk like that being in the Vedas,” Shanti
replies. She continues to look unhappy and I can only assume I’ve trodden on sacred ground.

“I don’t want to get into a religious argument with you. I just want you to understand how the riddle saved me from the witch. When I stopped to consider that I was dead, I realized I could no longer be hurt. That gave me the faith or the courage to jump into the chasm.”

“Where did you fall to?”

“I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Why not? Your story keeps getting better.”

“Trust me, you wouldn’t like the next part.”

The fan inside our air conditioner suddenly screeches to a halt and the cold air stops. This time it’s only been on for five minutes. The room isn’t cool yet, and even Shanti looks unhappy.

“It would be hard to live here. It’s like this place is surrounded by fire,” she says.

The remark rings a bell. I’ve heard it before.

Something like it. About a world filled with fire.

There’s not much to do in the tiny room. Shanti prepares for bed. She brushes her teeth and finally takes off her robe and crawls under the sheets. I sit in the corner with Yaksha’s book. I don’t need the light on to read. I review Krishna’s version of the Hydra myth.

“As Hercules fought the monster, he was almost killed by its deadly breath, but eventually he removed all
but one of the Hydra’s heads. The last one could not be destroyed by any man-made tool, so, picking up his club, Hercules crushed it and tore it off with his bare hands. With Iolaus’s help, he wisely buried it deep in the ground and placed a huge boulder over it lest it be disturbed by the future races of man.”

Today, I reflect, I destroyed two Hydras, the Source and the Cradle, and in a sense I cut off many heads. But only with the Source did I follow Krishna’s directions to the letter. When I killed Umara and removed the Telar’s protection.

But what of the Cradle?

They seemed to have no immortal head.

At least none that I knew about.

Unless it was their damn computer program.

“Does my reading bother you?” I ask.

“No,” Shanti mumbles from the bed. “What are you reading?”

“Yaksha’s book.”

“I’m glad you found it.”

“I have you to thank for it. You’re the one who flew it away from Arosa to safety.”

Shanti yawns and turns over in bed and readjusts her pillow. “That’s nice. Good night, Sita.”

“Good night.” I continue to stare at Yaksha’s book, not really reading it, just happy to have the original in my hands.
Because I was sure the Telar had taken the original back. That I had only given Shanti a copy to take to the States.

“Shanti?”

“Hmm.”

“When you flew home with the book, and you showed it to Seymour, what form was it in?”

“Huh?”

“Was it the original or was it a copy?”

“I thought you gave me the original.”

“I gave you a copy.”

“I thought you wanted me to protect the original. In case it had secret messages hidden inside it. A copy wouldn’t have those.”

“I didn’t say anything about secret messages,” I say.

“Seymour told me about them. I hope that’s okay. We’ve become close. He shares stuff with me. He likes me to feel like I can help you and the others when I know I really can’t do much.”

“Gimme a break. You’re the one person who could protect me from the Cradle.”

“But I didn’t do anything to protect you.”

“You just had to be nearby. In that way you were like Umara. She just had to walk the earth and all the Telar could live forever.”

“Now that she’s dead, do you think they’ll start to die?”

“I believe so, yes.”

“That’s sad,” Shanti says.

“Not really. Many have lived for thousands of years.”

“I guess.” Shanti yawns. “Good night, Sita. I love you.”

I go to tell her I love her but something holds me back.

It bothers me, her story about Yaksha’s book.

Because it’s not true. I gave her a copy.

I had promised the man at the Swiss hotel, Herr Reinhart, that I would return the original to him intact. At the time I didn’t know he was Telar, and there’s no way I would have pawned off a bunch of photocopied pages on him and tried to convince him that it was Yaksha’s original manuscript. The idea was patently absurd.

Right now, though, I have the original in my hands.

But the Telar never gave it to me. Why should they?

It’s a mystery. One I can’t solve.

It strikes me then how close mysteries are to riddles.

In a sense, they are identical.

A strange déjà vu sweeps over me, and I feel as though the answer to the mystery surrounding Yaksha’s book can be found in the first riddle the ferryman asked me. On the surface, there is no logical link between the two questions, other than the fact that I don’t know the answer to either. In fact, I don’t even know what the first riddle was . . .

Then, just like that, sitting in this hot room, I remember.

Somehow the heat helps.

“What is the most useless human emotion?”

That was it! I told him fear. But that was wrong.

What was the right answer? Everyone in that place agreed
that the ferryman wouldn’t ask a riddle that your life hadn’t taught you the answer to. That meant I must know the answer. Why won’t it come to me?

“Shanti?”

“Hmmm.”

“I want to apologize again for comparing you to a witch.”

“You didn’t compare me to her.”

“I meant her scars. I didn’t mean to say they reminded me of your scars.”

“Mine are all gone thanks to you.”

“I know. Your face looks great.”

Shanti hesitates. “Yeah.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Is something about your face still bothering you?”

“Well, I don’t want you to take this the wrong way.”

“I won’t.”

“But sometimes I feel like all the work the doctors have done is just an illusion.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I still feel ugly inside.”

“You’re not ugly. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Not outside, inside. Don’t you ever feel that way?”

“I did today.”

“When you injected the virus in the kids?”

My turn to hesitate. “Yes.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“I have tons of guilt. Regret. Remorse.”

“Don’t those words all mean the same thing?”

“Yes, they’re synonyms.” I pause. “It’s odd, I had a talk with the ferryman about synonyms.”

“That must have been amusing.”

“There was not necessarily one answer for each riddle. You just had to get the meaning right.”

“That makes sense.” She pauses. “Sita?”

“Yes.”

“I’m exhausted. Can I sleep now?”

“Sure. Sorry to bother you. Sweet dreams.”

“Same to you. Good night.”

I sit in the dark. The air conditioner remains silent. It continues to get warmer. All I have on is a thin T-shirt and the sweat drips off of me.

“A word from me and you will be taken through the red door, where there is only fire and pain. There you will burn. But not like you burned on earth. In the world of the living you were a vampire. There you would heal quickly. But in the world of fire, there is no relief. There is only agony.”

It was Tarana who said that.

“Shanti?” I say.

She sits up in bed and stares at me.

“What’s bothering you?” she asks.

“Why did you lie to me about Yaksha’s book?”

“Lie to you? Why would I lie to you?”

“I don’t know. That’s what I’m trying to find out.”

“Sita, honestly, I brought the original home. It’s sitting right there on your lap.”

“The first time we talked about this issue, I was in Teri’s body. I was confused. But now that I’m whole again, I’m a hundred percent sure I gave you a copy.”

“Then how did you end up with the original?”

“The question should be, how did you end up with it?”

“I don’t understand. Are you accusing me of stealing it?”

“That would be an amazing trick, to steal it from the Telar.”

Shanti stands, puts her robe back on, and comes over and sits on the seat beside me. Her plastic surgery doesn’t look so good when she’s tired and not wearing makeup. Her scars are much more visible. She reaches for my hand but I don’t take hers.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, worried.

I shrug. “Just asking a few questions is all.”

“No, you’re not. It’s like you suddenly don’t trust me.”

I stare at her. I don’t speak. Silence can cut the deepest.