Seymour isn’t convinced. “I write novels to make money. Each time I sit to write, I indirectly depend on the universe to inspire me. No offense, Paula, but I’ve never gotten possessed.”
“You create out of your own imagination,” Paula says. “Out of your own soul, if you like. Or, when you worked with Sita to write her story, you spontaneously sought out a writing partner, even if you didn’t know it at the time. But it’s my belief that the Array is designed to tap unnatural powers.”
“What do you mean by unnatural?” Seymour asks.
“There are many doors in this universe,” Paula says.
“You’re saying you have to be careful what higher power you turn to for help?” Shanti asks.
“Exactly,” Paula replies.
“Krishna says the same thing in the Gita,” Shanti says.
“But Krishna is flexible when it comes to who a person worships,” I say. “He said that whatever god a man or woman worships with love, it is the same as worshipping him. I think that line is one of the keys to the Gita. The worship is for the sake of the devotee, not for the sake of the god.”
“I can’t argue with you,” Shanti says. “I mean, you met Krishna, I’ve just read about him.”
She continues to look troubled, and I think I know why.
“You’re wondering why I gave you the evil eye every time you went to talk to Professor Sharp,” I say.
Shanti hesitates. “I assume you knew what you were doing.”
“You worked with Brutran’s Array as little as a month ago. I was afraid he might see you as one of her spies.”
“Is that the only reason?” she asks.
“Yes,” I lie. The truth is, my gut told me to keep her quiet, and I’m not sure why. Shanti continues to look disappointed and I try changing the subject. “Speaking of Krishna, did you happen to bring a copy of Yaksha’s book? I wanted to study it some more.”
Shanti nods. “I have the original in the trunk.”
“The original copy I gave you?”
Shanti hesitates. “I thought I had Yaksha’s copy.”
I smile and squeeze her hand. “I never gave you that one. The Telar have it. But let’s not worry about it now. I’ll look at it after we get to Santa Cruz.”
Seymour isn’t ready to let go of the meeting with Professor Sharp. He glances at me in the mirror. “Sita, you told us you met Brutran twice, and that she was about forty. But everything Sharp told us happened forty years ago. How can that be?”
“The Telar are immortal,” I reply. “How can that be?”
“Are you saying the IIC have tapped into the same secrets as the Telar?” Seymour asks.
“That’s my working theory,” I say. “That’s why I pressed Professor Sharp about what kind of information the group channeled.”
“Which is when he started to clam up,” Seymour mutters.
“That wasn’t a coincidence,” I say. “The two groups have a lot in common. They’re both obsessed with power and control.”
“But Matt made it clear that long ago the Telar lost the secret of their immortality,” Paula says.
“Then how can they still be immortal?” Shanti says.
“They’re immortal and their children are immortal,” Seymour says. “They’re born that way. But they can no longer make other immortals. They continue to benefit from their original secret, they just don’t know what it is.”
“It’s strange how they could have lost it,” Shanti says.
“Is it?” I ask. “Over time, people forget almost everything.”
“Let’s return to Cynthia Brutran’s age,” Seymour says. “She doesn’t look sixty-five like we’d expect, but she has aged. She’s no longer twenty, and I don’t know a woman who would willingly add twenty years to her face.”
“What does that tell you?” I ask.
“That the IIC have figured how to slow aging but not how to stop it.”
“Which tells you they’ve probably only begun to scratch the surface of the Array’s power,” I say.
“Or the Cradle’s,” Seymour adds. “I still wonder why they named it that. It was obvious he didn’t want to tell us.”
“Maybe they use babies somehow,” Shanti says.
I shake my head. “I don’t think that’s it. The way Sharp spoke about the Cradle, it was like it was connected to the Array, but also separate from it.”
“I got the same impression,” Paula says.
“I think we should take a closer look at what Krishna told Yaksha about the Telar,” Seymour says. “Krishna didn’t bring up the fable of the Hydra by chance. It’s got to be related to the Telar’s and the IIC’s arrays.”
“Assuming the Telar used to have one,” Paula says.
“I think that’s a safe assumption to make,” Seymour says. “I can’t be the only one who was reminded of the Hydra story when Sharp was talking. He kept saying that the more people he had to work with—the more heads, in other words—the more accurate his results were. I don’t think that’s a coincidence.”
Shanti laughs. “Hey, I used to be one of the kids they called up for answers. What are you going to do, chop off my head?”
“It was Krishna’s idea, not mine,” Seymour says cheerfully. Everyone in the car knows how protective he is of Shanti.
“You’re forgetting that in the Hydra fable,” I say, “Hercules couldn’t destroy the monster no matter how many heads he chopped off. It just kept growing new ones.”
Shanti gives Seymour a playful shove and then puts her hands around her neck. “I guess I’m safe for the time being,” she says.
Freddy’s girlfriend, Mary, isn’t surprised when we knock on her door. Apparently Professor Sharp called ahead of time and warned her and Freddy we were coming. Nor does Mary appear to mind our visit. She invites us in and immediately offers us dinner. It is near midnight, an odd time to eat, but that does not seem to bother anyone. With the exception of me, our gang is starving. I just downed two pints of blood, after heating it in a steel thermos with a Sears blowtorch. Like I planned, the ready supply is saving me a lot of grief. I keep the blood out of sight in the trunk, in a cooler packed with ice.
Mary has made a large pan of vegetarian lasagna, which suits Shanti, who’s from India and never eats meat. Mary explains that Freddy is out for a run, but she doesn’t bother waiting for him to return. She starts serving us as soon as we’re settled in the living room. Once again I find the greeting unusual. Mary is exceptionally friendly. But it seems her nature, I don’t feel like she’s trying to put us at ease for any devious reason.
“This is fantastic,” Seymour gushes as he digs into the food. “You should open a restaurant.”
“He means it,” I tell Mary. “Seymour’s from New York and knows all the finest restaurants. He’s hard to please.”
“I’ve already tried that,” Mary says. “A restaurant requires constant care. It’s worse than a man. I loved the cooking and treating people to a fun night out, but I had no life.” Mary notices how little food I have on my plate. “Teri, is that all you’re eating?”
“I don’t like to stuff myself before I sleep.”
She appears to study me for a moment, and I do likewise. Even though I have yet to meet the man of the house, I know Freddy is a lucky guy. Mary is not only a gracious host, and kindhearted, she is an exotic beauty.
Her hair is a bright blond, cut short, and her brown eyes are clear and sharp. She has amazing skin. She’s naturally white but she’s somehow managed to bake herself brown in the sun without picking up any wrinkles. Close to thirty, she’s on the short side but has a lush figure. She moves the way I used to, in my old body, with a smooth confidence that makes all eyes go to her. She appears to be a natural leader, and yet her dress could not be more casual, jeans and a T-shirt. She wears no bra or underwear, and I know that Seymour notices, and approves.
“Can I get you a drink?” she asks me.
“I’m fine, thank you,” I say.
Mary loads her plate and sits on the floor beside me. There’s only a small couch and a single chair in the living room, and the others have taken over them. I note the absence of a TV, but am intrigued by the number of paintings on the walls. Mostly abstract art that borders on the psychedelic. Mary explains that they belong to Freddy, and given what Professor Sharp told us about the man, I’m not surprised.
“Freddy must have a vivid imagination,” I say.
“He’s always been intuitive,” Mary says. “I’m sure Professor Sharp told you that.”
“He didn’t mention it,” Seymour says. “Was your boyfriend an actual participant in Sharp’s studies?”
Mary nods after biting into a slice of garlic bread. “That’s how the two got together. The professor was randomly testing students at Berkeley when he stumbled onto Freddy. Sharp said he had the highest degree of ESP he’d ever recorded.”