TWENTY-FOUR

Five days later finds us in Colorado, in an old mining town called Goldsmith. Matt says he chose the place for the clean mountain air and the privacy. Goldsmith has a population of fifteen hundred—on the weekends. The town is definitely far off the beaten track.

Matt owns the home, under a pseudonym. It’s comfortable, and it is heavily fortified. It’s also invisible from the road and strategically placed. It’s ten miles from the town, hidden behind a grove of lush pines on one side and a granite ridge on the other. Furthermore, next door to the residence is an elaborate network of mines the frontiersmen carved out at the close of the nineteenth century.

Legend has it that one of the boarded-up mines—an obscure tributary of the main tunnel that stretches miles into the mountain—leads to a cavern sheltering a vein of gold so rich that dozens of skeletons can be found there, of the men and women who killed each other while standing guard over the treasure. The old-timers swear the mine is haunted.

It is now, in a sense. The Apache was not the only exotic toy Yaksha managed to get his hands on and leave to his son. Matt has equipped the house and mine with enough firepower to defeat a small army. He fears, when we’re found, that’s exactly what the Telar will hit us with. He spends his days training us on how not to blow each other up.

He spends his nights explaining to Teri our predicament.

Considering 90 percent of what he tells her sounds like science fiction, he does a decent job. Yet the truth is Teri has been in a daze since she walked in on me and Numbria in that crummy motel in London. All the talk, all the psychic massages we’ve subjected her to, have not brought back the sweet innocent woman Matt and I both fell in love with.

I see how it kills Matt, and I die with him a little each day.

He came out of hiding for me, to rescue me. He destroyed his life and the life of his true love for me. Those are facts, and they’re regrettable. Yet we have bigger issues to contend with that make his personal sacrifices less significant. The Telar are about to crush humanity. Brutran and the IIC must surely be aware, and have plans to counterstrike. Which means the tempting shadows can no longer hide Matt, for he’s caught in the middle of this battle. He’s wise enough to know he has to take a stand and fight.

Nevertheless, I feel for the idyllic lifestyle he’s sacrificed. For two years he’s floated on his love for Teri, waiting for me to show up, while praying I never would. Yet I doubt it’s by chance that we’ve all come together at the same time the storm has arrived.

So my guilt is tempered with responsibilities.

Lisa is another handful. She has refused to quit her teaching job in Truman and move with us to Colorado. Part of the blame lies with Matt. He doesn’t trust her enough to explain what he is, and who I am. His decision is understandable—under ordinary circumstances. But to me, to leave her out in the wild, unprotected, feels wrong. Maybe the Telar and the IIC will see her as too insignificant and ignore her. Yet both groups have already proven that no one is too small to murder.

I can stand up to Matt. I’m the oldest—I should be our leader. But the roles have suddenly shifted, and I feel there’s probably no going back. He is faster and stronger than me, and he was trained by Yaksha from childhood to fight the Telar. Even Seymour looks to him for protection.

But Seymour and I still look to each other for answers.

On our fifth evening in Colorado, the two of us sit on a summit above the mine and wait for the sun to set. The air is still and dry, suffused with peace and a feeling of timelessness. My head has healed from the Pulse, and yet I continue to feel an ache that’s more psychological than physical. I’m not easily traumatized, but Haru did a number on me.

As always, Seymour seems to read my mind.

“Would you really have revealed our location?”

“I came close to breaking. It scares me how close.”

“You once said that pain was only a state of mind.”

“That machine erased my mind. That was the problem. It leaves you with nothing to fight back with.”

“I hope they don’t plan on mass-producing the device.”

“Their physical technology is superior to the IIC. But the IIC has an advantage with the Array.”

“It’s probably naive of me, but I expected the Telar to have more knowledge of the mind.”

“I have thought the same thing. But then we have Krishna’s words: ‘They have forgotten much of what they once knew. They have even lost the secret of their origin.’ He said that five thousand years ago, and they were at least that old when he was on earth.” I pause. “Seymour, is it possible they’ve lost the secret of immortality?”

“I don’t follow you. Numbria was an immortal, even though she was born only a few hundred years ago.”

“Yes, their offspring are still immortal. But could they have lost the key that gave them their longevity in the first place?”

“It’s an interesting theory. Where does it come from?”

“Haru wanted something from me. I could feel it. He needed my help.”

“He might have just wanted your blood.”

“The Telar don’t seem obsessed with vampiric blood, not as much as you’d expect. Look at the name they’ve given Matt. The Abomination. No, they want protection from the Array. And they feel the answer might lie in Yaksha’s book.”

“I’ve only read a small fraction of it. Can you take the place of Mr. Garuda and translate it for me?”

“Sure. When I have time.”

“Do you still feel there’s a link between the Array and the Hydra?”

“Yes.”

“But you don’t know what either one is?”

“That’s why I have you here. Our resident genius. You’re supposed to figure these things out.”

“I already know we don’t have enough information on either group.”

“That helps?”

“It helps me to know when I don’t know.”

“Matt’s mother is the oldest Telar on earth, but even she didn’t know the first ones, the old ones. They must have done something long ago, before recorded history began, that triggered their nervous systems into a higher level of functioning.”

Seymour doesn’t approve. “We can’t make that assumption. What if the Telar did nothing? What if they’re just genetically superior?”

“You mean, like they’re a different branch of humanity?”

“Yes. For all we know, their DNA may mimic vampire DNA and be self-correcting. That alone would keep them from aging. It probably would enhance their strength.”

“I’d consider that idea except for two facts: Krishna’s words that they lost their secret. And Haru’s desire for help. Believe me, I could see it in his eyes. He was a cold fish, but he’s clearly facing an enemy he isn’t sure he can defeat.” I pause. “I wish I hadn’t told him Shanti can block the Array.”

“He was torturing you. It’s only natural you let a few things slip.”

“I didn’t let it slip. I told him about Shanti deliberately. Anything to stop him from turning that damn dial.”

“Sita, if Haru had shown me the box the Pulse came in, I would have broken down and told him everything I know about you. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

I smile. “My darling Seymour. What would I do without you?”

“You love me that much?”

“You know I do.”

“Then maybe you can do me a small favor.”

“It’s already done.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You don’t need to take all those pills every day. Last night, when you were asleep, I put a few drops of my blood in your veins. It killed the HIV virus.”

Seymour brightens. “Why did you decide to do it now?”

“After Arosa, I realized I have fallen for Krishna’s greatest illusion. I keep thinking I’m never going to die, but I could die any day. Even today.”

He leans over and kisses my cheek. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now let’s stay on topic. How could the Telar have lost their secret of secrets?”

“That’s not so hard to understand. Chances are only a few knew the secret of how the Hydra worked. Those few would have wanted to keep it that way, because then they would have leverage over the rest of the Telar. Leverage they could use to stay in power.”

“But if the bulk of the Telar revolted against the Source—”

“Then they might have killed one or more of the Telar who knew the secret of secrets. They must have had plenty of revolts over five thousand years.”

I nod in agreement. “Or they could have had one huge revolt where the younger Telar ended up killing the original guys. Then the secret of the Hydra would have been lost forever. Until the IIC discovered it again.”

“I’m still not sure the two are related. The links between the Hydra and the Array are weak.”

“My gut tells me they are connected. In either case, we need to look into Ms. Brutran’s history, and the backgrounds of those close to her. When IIC was originally incorporated, it listed five board members. Brutran’s husband was one of them.”

“When you were in LA, you didn’t follow him. Why?”

“Lisa said the woman ran the company. Besides, I never saw him.”

“You said she had a child in the house?”

“Yes. A daughter.”

“How old?”

“Four or five. Why?” I ask.

“I was wondering what it would be like for a kid to grow up with such a creepy mother.”

“When I first snuck in Brutran’s house and ran into the kid, something about her creeped me out.”

“Interesting.”

“Who is the greater threat? The Telar or IIC?”

Seymour considers. “On the surface, you’d have to say the Telar. They’re old, strong, deeply entrenched in society. But Haru confessed to you he threw hundreds of Telar soldiers at Brutran’s house and none came back.”

“A few came back as zombies.”

“Lovely. My point is that the IIC seems to be gaining strength, while the Telar are stuck in a rut. If the IIC have accumulated trillions in assets, they could for all practical purposes buy governments.”

“What about weapons of mass destruction?” I ask.

“I’ve quizzed Matt about that. He says the Telar have nuclear bombs and the means to deliver them. It might be how they’ll wipe out humanity.”

“But you don’t think so,” I say.

“Nuclear bombs are messy, with all the radiation and fallout they leave behind. The Telar still have to live here. I thought it was important that Haru bragged about how they started the plague. If I was them and I wanted to reduce the population below a hundred million, I’d develop a supervirus and then vaccinate my people against it. Then I’d release the virus at airports and in planes traveling to all parts of the globe.”

“How hard would it be to create such a virus?” I ask.

“I bet our scientists have already done it. Take Ebola. If the smart guys and girls in white coats just tweaked it a little, so you could catch it through the air, then it could easily kill almost everyone on earth.”

“You scare me. You weren’t alive when the plague swept through Europe. I saw what it did to whole towns. One person would catch it, and you’d go back three or four days later and the corpses would be piled up in the streets. All black and swollen. In a week the village would be dead.”

“I’m glad I missed that. A normal virus is difficult enough to stop from spreading. But if the Telar engineer a supervirus and release it in a few dozen major cities, then it would be virtually impossible to stop.”

“You’re making a stronger case that the Telar are more dangerous.”

“Why is it important to decide which one is worse?”

I don’t answer. There’s no need—he will know in a moment.

Seymour pales. “You’re thinking of joining one side. You’re thinking of helping the IIC.”

“It seems the logical thing to do.”

“Sure, it’s logical. To a sociopath.”

“I know Brutran and her people are evil. But look at us, look at what we’re doing. Nothing! We’re hiding away in the middle of nowhere, praying neither of them finds us. Since Matt and I escaped from the Telar, Haru will be anxious to accelerate his plans. The only reason he told me what he did was because he thought I wasn’t going to leave that hotel alive. But now he’s got to be scared I’m going to run straight to the IIC.”

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend.”

“It’s true sometimes,” I say.

“It’s bullshit. Hiding and doing nothing might be the smart move. Let them fight it out. They might end up destroying each other.”

“I’d agree if we didn’t have to worry about superviruses.”

We fall into a tense silence just as the sun sinks below the horizon. Normally I find the rise and setting of the sun a peaceful time. Not now. Goldsmith reminds me of Arosa. Its peace is illusionary.

“We’re ignoring the biggest question of them all,” Seymour says.

“Paula and John.”

“Did you try to reach her?”

“Sure. They’ve left Santorini.”

“That’s probably good.”

“Paula didn’t leave a forwarding number.”

“That just means she’ll contact you when she feels it’s safe. I trust her intuition. You should too.”

“It means she doesn’t trust me.”

“Sita. She has to protect John.”

“Have you studied Cosmic Intuitive Illusion more closely?”

“I’ve played it a lot. It has a strong underground following. You can download it for free, which is strange. The game’s high quality. It could easily sell for fifty bucks.”

“What’s the name of the company that puts it out?”

“Ascension.”

“Sounds New Age. Tell me why John’s obsessed with it?”

“I’m not a hundred percent sure. I told you the game starts on earth. You have to battle your way to a departing spacecraft. That’s hard to reach. I haven’t gotten that far. After that, you’re supposed to fight your way through higher and higher worlds until you reach the galactic core.”

“Why would it appeal to John?”

“The game’s unusual in lots of ways. First off, it has nothing to do with how good your mind-body coordination is. It’s not a shooting contest. To succeed at the game, you have to walk a moralistic tightrope where you make wise and compassionate decisions. In each situation you encounter, you have to decide whether to follow your head or your heart. For example, your character might get married and have a child. But three years later you meet someone else and you fall in love. Then you’re forced to decide: Do I do the noble thing and stay with my wife and make sure my kid has a father? Or do I run away with my true love?”

“This is a computer game for teenagers?”

“I never said it was for teens. I just said John plays it all the time.”

“I assume you’d advance faster if you sacrificed for your family.”

“Sometimes that’s true. But in other cases, depending on the previous decisions you’ve made, that can be a bad choice. Being with the wrong partner can ruin your life. You see, on one hand it’s a game about making real-life decisions. But there are aliens and angels and demons in it too. They can help you or hurt you depending on how you relate to them. But here the game really fools with your head. Unless your character grows to a certain level, he’s not even aware that angels and demons are whispering in his mind. The less awareness you have, the greater the chance is that you’ll die before you reach the mothership.”

“The mothership?”

“That’s what takes you to the galactic core.”

“It sounds incredibly complex.”

“It’s staggering. It must have cost a fortune to develop.”

“Any sign Ascension is connected to IIC?”

“Just the coincidence with the game initials.” Seymour shakes his head in admiration. “You have to hand it to John. When I was at his house, I had no idea how skilled he was at weaving his way through such a maze. If he isn’t a divine incarnation, he at least has a high IQ.”

The explanation leaves me feeling dissatisfied. I dislike searching for profound portents in everyday events. Maybe John is like any other kid who likes to waste time on computer games, and he plays Cosmic Intuitive Illusion because he likes it. End of story.

“I wonder why Haru is anxious to find him,” I say.

“That’s the biggest question of them all.”

“Is it? I don’t know.”

“He swore he’d let you go if you’d tell him where they were.”

“He was lying. He was never going to let me go.”

“It still shows how desperate he is to find the kid.”

“What are you getting at?” I ask.

“You can’t understand your enemy without putting yourself in their shoes. What are they thinking? What do they want? We know the answer to the second question. Haru wants John.”

As is so often the case with Seymour, he stimulates a fresh set of ideas inside me. He forces me to speculate. “Haru was bitter that Krishna gave Yaksha information that could help destroy the Telar. At the same time, he seemed impressed with Krishna’s knowledge.”

“Haru might be worried John is another Krishna,” Seymour says.

“As you’re fond of saying, that’s a big leap.”

“I disagree. The Telar are not atheists. The first one you killed, he died praying to the Goddess Isis. Numbria worshipped Isis too. Some of them believe in the supernatural. Look at their interest in Suzama. I think Haru gave you a big hint to his motivation when he brought her up.”

“Explain,” I say.

“Could they be lost? Could they be seeking guidance?”

“Seymour! They’re preparing to wipe out humanity. They’re as far from humbly seeking the truth as Hitler was when he invaded Poland.”

Seymour is thoughtful. “It makes me wonder.”

“What?”

“How it would feel to live so long.”

“Ask me. I have lived that long.”

“You’re different. You’re a vampire. No offense, Sita, but the Telar are more like human beings than vampires. I wonder what it’s done to them to live all these years. And to know that they might live thousands of more years.”

I think he’s mistaken. I have far more humanity than Haru. Still, his words, his insights, have a powerful effect on me. “What do you mean?”

He flashes a sad smile. “The price of immortality might be higher than we know.”

I hear a noise behind us. To my sensitive ears, everyone has their own unique gait, their own special way of breathing. I know it’s Shanti running up the dirt path that leads from the back of our house. Seymour and I stand as she bursts into view. The flesh on her reconstructed face is rich with blood. Her eyes shine with fear, and her voice cracks.

“Matt says they’re coming!”

“Who?” Seymour demands.

“The Telar.”

“How many?” I ask.

“Too many!” Shanti cries.