Sati

SATI

/
once knew this girt who thought she was God. She didn't give sight to the blind or raise the dead.

She didn't even teach anything
,
not really, and she never told me anything I probably didn't
already know.

On the other hand, she didn't expect to be worshipped, nor did she ask for money. Given her high opinion of herself, some might call that a miracle.

I don't know, maybe she was God. Her name was Sati and she had blonde hair and blue eyes.

For all who meet her, Sati will change everything. Sati may change everything for you.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Christopher Pike was born in New York, but grew up

in Los Angeles, where he lives to this day. Prior to

becoming a writer, he worked in a factory, painted

houses and programmed computers. His hobbies

include astronomy, meditating, running and making

sure his books are prominently displayed in his local bookshop. He is the author of the best-selling CHAIN

LETTER,SPELLBOUND, LAST ACT, GIMME A KISS,

WEEKEND, SLUMBER PARTY,REMEMBER ME, the

FINAL FRIENDS trilogy, SCAVENGER HUNT, FALL

INTO DARKNESS, WITCH,SEE YOU LATER, CHAIN

LETTER 2, DIE SOFTLY, BURY ME DEEP, MONSTER

and ROAD TO NOWHERE which are all available in

paperback from Hodder and Stoughton.

CHRISTOPHER

PIKE

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Sati

Hodder& Stoughton

LONDON SYDNEY AUCKLAND

Copyright ©1 990 by Christopher Pike

First published in the USA in 1990 as
a
Tor book by Tom DohertyAs-sociates Inc.

First published inG reat Britain in.1993 byH odder and StoughtonLtd.

British Library C.I.P.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library ISBN 0-340-59022-X

The characters and situations in this book are entirelyimaginary and bear no relation to any real person or actual happenings.

The right of Christopher Pike to be identified as the authoro f this work has been asserted by him in accord-ance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act19 88.

This book is sold subject to the con-dition that it-shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher's prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy-ing, recording or any information storage or retrieval system, without either the prior permission in writing from the publisher or a licence, permitting restricted copying. In the United Kingdom such licences are issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency, 90 Tottenham Court Road, London W1PS HE.

Printed and bound In Great Britain for Hodder and Stoughton Children's Books, a division of Hodder and Stoughton Ltd., Mill Road, Dunton Green, Sevenoaks, Kent TN13 2YA.(Editorial Office: 47

Bedford Square, London WC1B 3DP) by Cox &W yman Ltd, Reading, Berks. Typeset by Phoenix Typesetting, Ilkley, West Yorkshire.

for Moharishi

Satiis pronounced SAH-tee

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ONE

I once knew this girl who thought she was God.She didn't give sight to the blind or raise the dead. She didn't even teach anything, not really,and she never told me anything I probably didn't already know. On the other hand,she didn'texpect to be worshipped, nor did she askfor money. Given her high opinion of herself, some might call that a miracle. I don't know, maybe she was God. Her name was Sati and she had blonde hair and blue eyes.

I first met her in the middle of the night alongside High-way10 in the Arizona desert. She was sitting - not standing like your usual hitch-hiker in the sand next to the asphalt.Had I been any more tired than I already was, I probably would have missed her. AllI saw was a flash of white in my semi's high beams. I was a couple of seconds down the road before I realised I'd just passed a person. My brakes took their time bringing my seventy-mile-per-hourrig to a halt In the rearview-mirror, my flash of white stood and walked slowly towards the truck.

When the passenger door opened a minute later, and the overhead light went on, I decided I'd made a wise decision stopping.

She was a soft beauty, and I blinked twice, for she looked familiar, though later, I was never able to decide who she reminded me of. The rose tinge of her skin complemented her long sunny hair. Her big eyes glanced across my littered seat, bright and calm.

'Need a ride?'I asked.

She nodded, lifting up the hem of her white dress and sliding into the seat. The overheadl ight went offas she shut the door.

'Are you hitch-hiking?'I asked, thinking I hadn't seen any broken-down car along the road.

'Yes,'she said.

'Well I'm heading to L.A.'

'You want to ride all the way there with me?'

'Yes,'she said.

That was fine with me. Hauling freight when you're half asleep is always easier with company. I put the truck into gear and we rolled forward.

'My name's Michael Winters,'I said, offering my hand, hoping she could see it in the dark. Desert nights get as deep as a pool of ink. Her profile was a shadow against the black window. Her warm fingers found mine and squeezed hello.

'I'm Sati,' she said.

'Oh.'I say
oh
a lot. The world is always taking me by surprise,' What kind of name is Sati?'

'An old one.'

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'How did you come to be sitting out here at this time of night?'

'I was waiting for a ride.'

Her tone was not unhappy, but she was obviously being evasive. Perhaps she'd just had a fight with her boyfriend and had been dumped, I thought. Or maybe she lived in Catson,a town a few miles back the way I'd come, and had decided to leave home tonight. She couldn't have been more than twenty.

'Hey, you hungry?'I asked. There was a diner not far up ahead where I occasionally stopped during my boring Phoenix to L.A. runs. Before picking up my guest, I hadn't planned on eating so soon. I think I just wanted to get another good look at her.

'Iwouldn't mind stopping,'Sati said.

Pete's was the name of the place, appropriately enough; it served tons of truck drivers who resembled the owner and head chef PeterKo rboff, a big heavy-set man whose sole culinary achievement was consistentlyfantastic pan-cakes. I usually stopped in only when I knew the diner would be fairly empty.

Just because I made my living moving freight from one town to another didn't mean I was a truck driver.

The job was temporary, I told myself. And the years kept rolling by.

The air had a chill in it as we climbed out. Come ten in the morning and I knew it would be simmering.

Sati pulled up beside me, a head shorterthanmy even six feet. Her long white dress swished close to the pavement as we walked towardsthediner's front door.

'Ihope Penny's working,'I said.

Sati nodded, apparently not caring who Penny was.

The place was crowded for two in the morning. There were about a dozen people present. Steering Sati towards a booth in the corner, I noticed Penny pouring coffee behind the counter and gave a wave. She raised an eye-brow when she saw I had a female with me. Penny was a good friend - we'd spoken to each other once a week for the last three years - but she didn't know my wife was divorcing me. I hate telling people my problems. It depresses me.

'I see you don't have a purse,'I told Sati when we were seated. The hard white light of the diner took nothing away from her beauty. Her complexion looked as soft as it had during my first glimpse of her in the truck. At my remark, her wide mouth curled into an amused line. I added hastily,' But don't worry if you're hungry. I've got money.'

'I'm not worried, Michael,'she said.

'All right.'

Sati wasn't a large girl, but her fingers were long and slim. The way she tugged at her bright hair while gazing distractedly about struck me as charming in al ittle-girlsort of way. She wasn't wearing a ring.

Penny brought us menus and water a moment later. Penny was destined to be a waitress in a truck stop cof-fee shop. She fitted the part so well.Buxom, with cheaply dyed red hair and gobs of make-up, she had the friendly southern accent that barely hid a lonely pain. Her husband had died of cancer a week after their fifth anniversary, and she had never remarried. Her twenty-year-old son was presently doing
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time in a sweaty Texas jail for steal-ing a car. Had Harry Chapin still been alive, he might have written a song about her.

'And who do we have here, Mike?'Penny asked.

'A lost hitch-hiker who thinks she wants to go to L.A.,'I said.'P enny, meet Sati.'

'Lord, girl, don't tell me you're another one of those aspiring actresses?'Penny said.' I see dozenso f them pass through here on their way to fame and fortune. See them on their way home, too, the stars washed from their eyes.Wh ere're you from,child?'

'Not far from here,'Sati said.

Penny gave her a closer look, puzzled.'H ave I seen you before?'

Sati did not answer the question. She instead nodded to the ring on Penny's finger, a plain gold band given to Penny on her wedding day.' The ring is very nice,'Sati said.

Penny fairly lit up, then laughed.' I can see you know nothing about jewellery, girl. Try to hock this in L

.A. and you would hardly have enough to buy yourself lunch.'

Sati stared her straight in the eye. It was then I realised what had struck me about her blue eyes the moment she had climbed into my truck. They were unusually serene. I wondered if she was stoned.

'But you wear it well,'Sati said.

Penny seemed touched.' Thank you,'she said softly. Then, shaking herself as if she was stirring from a pleasant daydream, she reached for her pad. 'So,Mike, what would you and your travelling companion like this fine morning?'

'I'llhave six of Pete's perfect pancakes and a cup of coffee,' I said.'B ring lots of butter.'

'I should have known. Sati?'

Sati had been looking out the window. She glanced towards the counter.' May I have that banana, there

?'

'Is that all you want?'I asked.

'Better take a free meal when you can get one,'Penny said. Sati nodded, as though that were good advice, but didn't say anything. Penny added,' Are you a vegetarian? I know a lot of actresses are.

Listen, I could put that banana on some cold cereal if you'd like?'

'That would be fine,'Sati said.

Penny collected our menus and left.' You're not really an actress, are you?'I asked.

'Not exactly,'Sati said.

'What do you plan on doing in L.A.?'

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'I'll tell you when we get there.'

'You don't know?'

She smiled again. Like her tugging at her hair, it seemed so innocent, that smile. For a moment I thought she could have been an actress, that she could have lit up any screen.' I know,'she said.

Our food came and I ate quickly. Penny had diced the banana over a bowl of cornflakes and drenched it in milk. Sati chewed each bite so thoroughly one would have thought she believed it was going to be her last meal for the rest of the week. My plate was clean and I was finishing my second cup of coffee, feeling anxious to hit the road, when she finally pushed her bowl away.

'We can go,'she said.

'You're full?'Her bowl wasn't empty.

'Completely full.'

Just before we stood to leave, I noticed a pot-bellied man with a handlebar moustache standing by the door and staring our way. It took me a moment, but then I recognised him as a local, a foreman in a factory in Catson who always worked the late shift. We'd shared a cup of coffee at the counter before, although I couldn't remember what his name was. He appeared on the verge of approaching us, but he suddenly turned and left.

'Did you see that guy?'I asked.

'Which guy was that?'Satiasked innocently.

'Never mind, he's gone.'

Penny returned to our table to say goodbye. She told me to give Linda her love. I left a tip as big as the bill. I like to tip big; it makes me feel like a nice guy.

Sati and I were back in the truck and barrelling down the road when Sati asked about Linda.

'She's my wife,'I said.' We've known each other since high school. We have a daughter named Jenny.

She'll be six next month, June seventeenth. We had her only a year after we were married.'

Actually, we'd had Jenny only nine months after we'd been married, but tell people that and they think they know what really happened. Back then, Linda and I both had to drop out of college and get jobs.

I'd never had a chance to get back and Linda was only now finishing her degree. One of her professors was her new boyfriend. She had always fancied the academic types. His name was Dick.

'You would like Jenny,'I added.' She's the smartest little kid.'

'What about Linda?'Sati asked.

Sati's question caught me off guard. I wasn't exactly sure what she was asking. Nevertheless, the query did give me an occasion to examine my motives in picking her up. There was the company excuse, sure, but I'd never bought a hitch-hiker breakfast before. What the hell, I thought,her long dress wasn't giving away a lot, but there was no hiding her fine figure.

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I'd slept with two women in the six months since I had split up withLinda. I'd thought there was a chance my depression was largely sexual frustration. I'd thought wrong, and had not called Sharon orJoetta back. Glancing across the dark seat,Iwondered if I was ever going to learn. Sati's hair hung loosely atop her breasts.