Sense of Wonder: A Century of Science Fiction (560 page)

“You?” I said.

“Worse. They call it a preventative measure. They randomize the solar system.”

“I think that’s a euphemism for—” Mary began.

“That’s right, Beloved Younger Siblings! No more Planet Earth.”

“Can they really do that?” I said.

“They do it all the time.” My brother reverted for a moment to cockroachlike behavior, then jerked back into a human pose with great effort. “They might not, though. All the xenobiologists, primitive cult fetishists, and so on are up in arms. So it might happen today…it might happen in a couple of years…it might never happen. Who knows? But galactic central thinks that no world, no matter how puny or insignificant, should be randomized without due process. But…I don’t think we should risk it, do you?”

“Maybe not,” I said. The theory that my brother had contracted one of those American mental diseases, like schizophrenia, was becoming more and more attractive to me. But I had to do what he said. To be on the safe side.

Mary and I left Phii Lek and went out to the porch where the spirit doctor had consumed half the whiskey and they had lit the anti-mosquito tapers, whose smoke perfumed the dense night air.

“Excuse me, honored grandmother,” I said, trying to sound as unassuming as I could, “but Phii Lek says he wants the exorcism done at Mary’s archaeological dig.”

“Ha!” the exorcist said. “One must always do the opposite of what a possessed person says, for the evil spirit in him strives always to delude us!” His sentiments were expressed with such resounding ferocity that there was a burst of applause from the crowd downstairs. “Besides,” he added, “there’s probably a whole army of
phii krasue
out there, just waiting to swallow us up. It’s a trap, I tell you! This possession is merely the vanguard of a wholesale demonic invasion!”

I looked despairingly at Mary. “Now what’ll we do?” I said. “Sit around waiting for the Earth to disappear?”

It was Mary who came to the rescue…and I realized how much she had absorbed by quietly observing us and taking all those notes. She said, speaking in a Thai far more heavily accented than she normally used, “But please, honored spirit doctor, the field study group would be most interested in seeing a real live exorcism!”

The spirit doctor looked decidedly uncertain at being addressed in Thai by a
farang.
I could tell the questions racing through his mind: what status should the woman be accorded? She wasn’t related to any of these people, nor was her social position immediately obvious. How could he respond without accidentally using the wrong pronoun, and giving her too much or little status—and perhaps rendering himself the laughingstock of these potential clients?

Taking advantage of his confusion, Mary pursued relentlessly. “Or does the honored spirit doctor perhaps
klua phii?
”

“Of course I’ m not afraid of spirits!” the exorcist said.

“Then why would a few extra ones bother the honored spirit doctor?” Mary contrived to speak in so unprepossessing an accent that it was impossible to tell whether her polite words were ingenuous or insulting.

“Bah!” said the spirit doctor. “A few
phii krasue
are nothing. It’s just a matter of convenience, that’s all—”

“I’m sure that the foundation that’s sponsoring our field research here would be more than happy to make a small donation toward ameliorating the inconvenience—”

“Since you put it that way—” the exorcist said, defeated.

“Hmpf!” my grandmother said, triumphantly yanking the half-bottle of whiskey away and sending my mother back to the kitchen with it. “These
farangs
might be some use after all. They’re as ugly as elephants, of course—and albino elephants at that—but who knows? One day their race may yet amount to something.”

The whole street opera of an exorcism was in full swing by the time my brother, Mary, and I parked her official Landrover about a half hour’s walk away from the site. It had taken a week to make the preparations, with my brother’s moments of lucidity getting briefer and his eschatological claims wilder each time.

By the time we had trudged through fields of young rice, squishing knee-deep in mud, several hundred people had gathered to watch. A good hundred or so were relatives of mine. Mary introduced me to some colleagues of hers, professors and suchlike, and they eyed me with curiosity as I fumbled around in their intractable language.

Four broken pagodas were silhouetted in the sunset. A waterbuffalo nuzzled at the pediment of an enormous stone Buddha, to whom I instinctively raised my palms in respect. Here and there, erupting from the brilliant green of the fields of young rice, were fragments of fortifications and walls topped with complex friezes that depicted grim, barbaric gods and garlanded, singing
apsaras.
A row of trunkless stucco elephants guarded a gateway to another paddy field.

Every part of the ruined city had been girded round with a
saisin,
a sacred rope that had been strung up along the walls and along the stumps of the elephant trunks and through the stone portals and finally into the folded palms of the spirit doctor himself, who sat, in the lotus position, on a woven rush mat, surrounded by a cloud of incense.

“You’re late,” he said angrily as we hastened to seat ourselves within the protected circle. “Get inside, inside. Or do you want to be swallowed up by spirits?”

If I had thought Phii Lek’s actions bizarre before, his performance now shifted into an even more hyperbolic gear. He groaned. He danced about, his body coiling and coiling like a serpent.

I heard my grandmother cry out,
“Ui ta then!
Nuns dropping into the basement!” It was the strongest language I’d ever heard her use.

Mary clutched my hand. Some of my relatives stared disapprovingly at the impropriety, but I decided that they were just jealous.

“And now we’ll see which it is to be,” Mary said. “Science fiction or fantasy.”

“He’s mumbling himself into a trance now,” I said, pointing to the exorcist, who had closed his eyes and from whose lips a strange buzzing issued.

“Are you sure he’s not snoring?” one of my mothers said maliciously.

“What tranquillity! What perfect
samadhi
!”
my other mother said admiringly, for the spirit doctor hadn’t moved a muscle in some ten minutes.

Phii Lek’s contortions became positively unnerving. He darted about the sacred circle, now and then flapping his arms as though to fly. Suddenly a bellow—like the cry of an angry waterbuffalo—burst from his lips. He flapped again and again—and then rose into the air!

“Be still, I command thee!” the exorcist’s voice thundered, and he waved a rattle at my levitating brother and made mysterious passes. “I tell thee, be still!”

A ray of light shot upward from the earth, dazzlingly bright. The pagodas were lit up eerily. The ground opened up under Phii Lek as he hovered. There he was, brilliantly lit up in the pillar of radiance, with an iridescent aura around him whose outlines vaguely resembled an enormous cockroach…

The crowd was going wild now. They clamored, they cheered; some of the children were disobeying the sacred cord and having to be restrained by their elders. My brother was sitting, in lotus position, in the middle of the air with his palms folded, looking just like a postcard of the Emerald Buddha in Bangkok.

The flaming apparition that had been my brother descended into the pit. We all rushed to the edge. The light from the abyss burned our eyes; we were blinded. Mary took advantage of the confusion to embrace me tightly; I was too overwhelmed to castigate her.

We waited.

The earth rumbled.

At last a figure crawled out. He was covered in mud and filth. He was clutching something under his arm…something very much like a Ming spittoon.

“Phii Lek!” I cried out, overcome with relief that he was still alive.

“The tachyon calibrator—” he gasped, holding aloft the spittoon and waving it dramatically in the air. “You must get it to—”

He fainted, still clasping the alien device firmly to his bosom.

The light shifted…the ghostly, rainbow-fringed giant cockroach seemed to drift slowly across the field, toward the unmoving figure of the exorcist…it danced grotesquely above his head, and he began to twitch and foam at the mouth… .

“I’ll be dead!” my grandmother shouted. “The spirit is transferring itself into the body of the exorcist!”

In a moment the exorcist too fainted, and the sacred cord fell from his hands. The circle was broken. Whatever was done was done.

I rushed to the side of my brother, still lying prone by the side of the abyss.

“Wake up!” I said, shaking him. “Please wake up!”

He got up and grinned. Applause broke out. The exorcist, too, seemed to be recovering from his ordeal.

“And now,” my brother said, holding out the alien artifact, “I can return this thing to the person who was sent to fetch it.”

A small, white, palpitating hand was stretched forward to receive it. I turned to see who it was. “Oh, no,” I said softly.

For it was Mary who had taken the artifact…and Mary who was now gyrating about the paddy field in a most unfeminine, most cockroachlike manner.

* * * *

Later that night, Phii Lek and I sat on the floor of our room, waiting for Mary to snap out of her extraterrestrial seizure so we could find out what had happened.

Toward dawn the alien gave her her first break. “I can talk now,” she said, suddenly, calmly.

“Do you need chilies?” I said.

“I think a good hamburger would be more my style,” she said.

“We can probably fake it,” my brother said, “if you don’t mind having it on rice instead of a bun.”

“Well,” she said, when my brother had finished clattering about the kitchen fixing this unorthodox meal, and she was sitting cross-legged on my bedding munching furiously. “I suppose I should tell you what I’m allowed to tell you.”

“Take your time,” I said, not meaning it.

“Okay. Well, as you know, the exorcist is a total fake, a charlatan, a mountebank. But he does enter a passable state of
samadhi,
and apparently this was close enough to the psychic null state necessary for psychic transference to enable a mindswap to occur over a short distance. His blank mind was a sort of catalyst, if you will, through which, under the influence of the tachyon calibrator, I could leave Phii Lek’s mind and enter Mary’s.”

“So you’ll be taking the spittoon back to America?”

I said.

“Right on schedule. And it’s not a spittoon. That happens to be a very clever disguise.”

“So…” It suddenly occurred to me that she would soon be leaving. I was irritated at that. I didn’t know why. I should have been pleased, because, after all, I had essentially traded her for my brother, and family always comes first.

“Look,” she said, noticing my unease, “do you think…maybe…one last time?” She caressed my arm.

“But you’re a giant cockroach!” I said.

She kissed me.

“You’ve been bragging to your friends all month about ‘arriving’ in America,” she said. “How’d you like to ‘arrive’ on another planet?”

* * * *

In the middle of the act I became aware that someone else was there with us. I mean, I was used to the way Mary moved, the delicious abandon with which she made her whole body shudder. I thought, “The alien’s here too! Well, I’m really going to show it how a Thai can drive. Here we go!”

The next morning, I said, “How was it?”

She said, “It was a fascinating activity, but frankly I prefer mitosis.”

Fiddling for waterbuffaloes.

* * * *

In a day or so I saw her off; I went back to the antique store; I found my grandmother hard at work in her antique faking studio. A perfect Ming spittoon lay beside her where she squatted. She saw me, spat out her betelnut, and motioned me to sit.

“Why, grandmother,” I said, “That’s a perfect copy of whatever it was the alien took to America.”

“Look again, my grandson,” she said, and chuckled to herself as she rocked back and forth kneading clay.

I picked it up. The morning light shone on it through the window. I had an inkling that…no. Surely not. “You didn’t!” I said.

She didn’t answer.

“Grandmother—”

No answer.

“But the solar system is at stake!” I blurted out. “If they find out that they’ve got the wrong tachyon calibrator—”

“Maybe, maybe not,” said my grandmother. “The way I think is this: it’s obviously very important to someone, and anything that valuable is worth faking. You say these interstellar diplomats will be arguing the question for years, perhaps. Well, as the years go by, the price will undoubtedly go up.”

“But
khun yaai,
how can you possibly play games with the destiny of the entire human race like this?”

“Oh, come, come. I’m just an old woman looking out for her family. The movie house has been sold, and we’ve lost maybe 50,000 baht on the exorcism and the feast. Besides, your father will insist on another wife, I’m afraid, and after all this brouhaha I can’t blame him. We’ll be out 100,000 baht by the time we’re through. I have a perfect right to some kind of recompense. Hopefully, by the time they come looking for this thing, we’ll be able to get enough for it to open a whole antique factory…who knows, move to Bangkok…buy up Channel Seven so your brother can dub movies to his heart’s content.”

“But couldn’t the alien tell?” I said.

“Of course not. How many experts on disguised tachyon calibrators do you think there are, anyway?” My grandmother paused to turn the electric fan so that it blew exclusively on herself. The air-conditioning, as usual, was off. “Anyway, manus tang dao are only another kind of foreigner, and anyone can tell you that all foreigners are suckers.”