The PuppetMaster (38 page)

With the same awe I felt standing in the cave itself, I said, “My god, it’s the beginning of another shastram.”

C.G.’s head drooped, his chin settling into his chest. “There are others,” was all he could manage. With a smile his eyes closed.

Uli gently took the lens from his hand and quickly studied the screen again.

Satnam stepped to the professor’s side to take his pulse, and nodded to all of us.

Sukshmi began weeping softly behind me, but Adam, sounding almost elated, said, “Bhim, help Satnam pull mm close to Father’s bed, please. Take these, and make certain Devamukti gets this letter.” He handed me the manuscript and an envelope addressed, To Jatanaka Devamukti, The Best Friend I Had. “Read them, if you wish, but the book will be better for the long hours on the train.” He smiled at my bewilderment of how he knew of our travel plans. “And these you may use as long as you need them.” He handed me a set of car keys and a cell phone. I went to protest but he hushed me. “Understand that we have resources and I am much more affluent than you might imagine. Use them. Dispose of the phone when you are done, or continue to use it; it will not be needed again. Now, shift my bed and go.”

Uli stood next to Sukshmi, offering soothing words. Satnam and I lifted and pulled the bed until it was parallel to C.G.’s and as we moved toward the door, I looked back. Adam was sitting upright holding his father’s hand, the hand of the man who had lifted him from the gutters, loved him, and given him life. He was gazing at C.G.’s face in the same way as he had the glass of water minutes earlier—seeing the energy. Both seemed bathed in a soft, pulsing light, and I watched him kiss his father’s hand and begin whispering, “The light is great, Father. Look into it without fear. Feel the center with love and feel its love for you. Like a river, flow into it. It is you and you are it.” Adam’s voice followed us as we exited out into the hall. A final spasm of coughing ended in silence, and I leaned against the wall and said a silent good-bye to my friend.

In the parlor Satnam turned to me. “It was the explosion. He was convinced that Adam had died. It drained what little was left in his heart. News didn’t reach us for many hours, and when it did, C.G.’s energy knew it was time to let go. He called for me and then asked to see you.”

Seeing the sadness in my eyes, Satnam placed a hand on my shoulder. “Do not be grieved; it is good and proper this way. He was with the people he loved most at the end. You were one of them. And the deeds of his life were brought to fruition. How many can say that? His love for Adam was so strong that it created . . . well it created Adam.”

“I should tell you that I took the liberty of talking, before all this evil erupted yesterday, with a few of my Ayurvedic friends—a council that represents the best traditional medical knowledge around here. Do not fear though, they are discreet to the point of being cabalistic. A great deal of excitement followed my little announcement, as you might imagine. I hope you don’t mind, but I gave a few of them permission to begin studying the shastram as soon as you are willing to provide me the notes. They are incredibly excited about the method you discovered for proportioning the plants; it will likely open up reviews of some the old recipes. A lot of volunteers will want to take part in this. It is still early, but it looks so hopeful.” He paused and tapped my chest. “But, it is up to you to decide if you want them to continue.”

I reached into my backpack. “I’m not sure if I am the sole person to make that decision, Satnam. But I know what the pundits would say, ‘precisely so, keep going forward.” I removed the memory stick from my pack and handed it to him.

“Excellent. Perhaps we can announce the medical news at the same time Devi’s releases his letters to the Sanskrit societies.” He looked at Uli and his dimples deepened. Laying his hand on my chest again, he said, “And as your physician in the partial healing of your heart, I proclaim you healed. Fully so.”

I nodded with gratitude and a small smile, then hoisted the manuscript and envelope; heavy in more ways than one. Sukshmi tapped the envelope with lacquered nails. “Do be careful with this one, Bhim. It is the key to my freedom.”

“I won’t ask what that means, Jatana.”

“You’ll understand soon enough. Read it when Father is done and you will see. By the way, my fiancée told me he thinks the name Sukshmi fits me better. I have decided to drop Jatana as my Nom d’Soir.”

“Good, You can tell that very fortunate man that I always thought Sukshmi fit you better, too. With long hair and a sari, but that is just my humble opinion. Is he Benarsi?”

“No, but he is quite the handsomest graduate student at the university in Delhi."

I asked an all-important question. “Brahmin?”

“Of course, political science major with a good brain, lots of wit, and beautiful eyes. He even likes to dance on occasion.” She slid an arm through Uli’s, and looking a bit conspiratorial, whispered, “Your Bhim is good man, Uliana, but you already know that, don’t you? ”

Uli kissed her cheek and replied, “Yes, I do, Sukshmi.” With a promise that we would safeguard the mysterious envelope, Uli and I stepped back onto the graveled paths of the University.

****

Living in Varanasi had been a flight from my former life, and in some ways, a husking of my accountabilities. I had taken shelter in the reclusiveness and taken on a smaller set of obligations. There were disciplines, studies, and exercise, of course, but few true commitments beyond that. Now, as the morning sun pressed down upon my shoulders, I felt the enormity of what I carried. It didn’t take long for that weight to increase.

As soon as we were on the path towards the library, Uli turned to me with an unusually serious expression. “You remember, I told you I studied a lot about boring old rocks?”

“Yes, that would be one of those beautiful secrets about you I will not forget twice.”

She tugged on my arm and stopped me cold. “There is something in the cave photograph that is more significant than you know.”

I thought she was referring to the script. “You mean more words?”

“No, the rock.”

“What rock? What do you mean?”

“I can’t be sure until I look closer and have a sample, but I’m pretty sure the floor of your cave may be covered with uraninite.”

***

The hairs on the back of my neck rose into an uneasy tingle. “I’m assuming from the first three syllables that its something I don’t want to hear, like uranium?”

She nodded. “Uranium oxide, raw ore before any refinement, und if it is high grade as I think this is, it is dangerous.”

As I pictured picking my way across the oily chunks with Devamukti, the tingling increased. “Do you mean like radioactive dangerous?”

“No, there is little radiation. The danger is what it can be made into, yellowcake.”

“Yellowcake? “ I resisted a small itch to be comic.

She turned onto the path again. “Ya, it’s the first step in nuclear fuel process. It looks like yellow cake crumbs. Well, it used to look that way, now it is made better and looks more like brown or black cake. I had two courses at university with a lot of reading about it. There were films and learned how much is mined, und how much is sold on the black markets. It is a lot more than you would think, und the more refined it becomes, the more valuable und more tempting it is to smuggle.”

My mind reeled. “Uranium. Yellowcake? Is it really that prevalent?”

Her eyes blazed. “The entire nuclear program of Pakistan came from smuggled materials. Abdul Khan, the head of the program, then sold his knowledge and the critical materials to Libya and Iran. So yes, it is prevalent. Everything from gas centrifuges to high-grade fuel moves to countries that can’t purchase it on the open market because of the non-proliferation treaties. Or sanctions. You remember what Haroon said about India’s need it? And Pakistan’s? Refined, it can be used in reactors, warheads, dirty bombs, und that, Mein Schatzki, is why it is so valuable und dangerous.”

That phrase kept coming back. Suddenly, I understood. “My God, that would explain the actions at the mine. And why nobody wanted us near it.”

The phone in my pocket bumped against the keys, reminding me that I was in possession of both. “I forgot about our car.”

“What car?”

“Adam gave us C.G.’s car and a phone to use.”

“That’s fortunate, because we need to take a drive.”

“A drive? Now? Where?”

She tugged sweetly on my sleeve to get us moving again. “Not now, tonight. We have to go out there and collect a sample.”

“What! You’re kidding, right? You want me to drive out there in the middle of the night and sneak around like a peeping . . . rock collector?” The hairs on my neck now felt like pins.

She kissed my cheek and whispered, “I’ll be right there to protect you.”

“I may need it.” The idea of driving to the cave at night was appalling, but another part of me knew that it was necessary. “Wasn’t it you who said I needed to do all this carefully? This morning, if I remember correctly.”

“It is the only way we can know, Lover.”

I shook my head and blew out a long breath. “Okay, but right now we need to go to a place I meant to visit yesterday, an internet café.”

Taking my hand and turning me back towards the cottage and the car, she said, “You’re our guide, Lover.”

Sixty-One

Sutradharak was quite pleased with himself again. In opposition to the harsh self-censure of earlier, he was now patting himself on the back. The outcome of the explosion at Manikarnika had been much better than planned. With the smallest amount of HBX-3, not enough to make a difference to his other design, he had set the city upon itself. Chaos, always his intention. In addition, his team had assembled at the location an hour after sunset. Two cars, under a moonless sky, and with exacting touch, had placed six charges. The HBX-3 was taped in carefully assessed locations and wired to cell phones with the vibration mode set to on. Those were the receivers. The transmitters were now in his possession. They had tested the signal three times and, just before they left, inserted the cap wires into the plastique.

The four men left in pairs in opposite directions, registered at mid-fare hotels, dined on rice and dal, and engaged in indifferent conversation. Then they showered, slept, and settled down for the wait.

Sutradharak was now standing in the central-city loft, staring absently at yet another funeral to the Ghats. Two days, no more, and the biggest event I have ever planned will take place. A crowning achievement of diversion. A coup de gras before the disappearing act. Then I can be rid of this filthy place.

He looked across the roofline and admitted stingily that it wasn’t all bad. A few pleasant moments, a few good meals, some good distractions, and of course, the challenge of different personalities. Now? Perhaps Europe for a spell. Or back to the Americas. Suddenly, it all felt proper, and for a brief moment he allowed his ego to rise. Really, he decided. I am the master of this competition, the teacher. Success through the planning, leave no trail, and set no patterns. He twisted the owl ring on his finger and slowly closed the slats across the window.

Sixty-Two

“Under no circumstances are you allowed to make fun of my driving,” I pronounced as I lifted her up to the passenger seat. “This moster is more truck than car, and I haven’t sat behind a steering wheel for a few years now.”

“Would you like me to do it?”

“The first thing that we be dented if that happened would be my male ego. Besides, I think men have to drive their women in this town. Some sort of law.”

“You’re our guide. Lover. Besides, you know where we are going.” She slid in close and kissed my neck.

I shifted into first gear and rolled forward with the caution of teen taking a first license test. I knew of three Internet cafes on this side of town, all wisely placed close to the university. If the first didn’t suit our needs, the next one would.

Rolling through the university gates in a dawdling second gear, I asked, “So, if you put all of the pieces together in this puzzle, what do you come up with.” I had begun to form my own theory, but wanted to hear hers.

She thought for a moment and frowned. “Well, this Mejanand is in the center of everything, I am certain of that. He is vicious. Und somehow I think he has local police in his pocket.”

“Like Madru Ralki?”

Uli was heating up. “Ya, this Ralki you talked about. He tried to find out from Soma what you were doing in the cave. I think he was trying to scare you und Devi because it was so close to the mine. When that didn’t work and the guard came, they collapsed the entrance.”

“And you really think the mine has something that goes on the black market?”

“Ya, und I bet they are turning the ore into yellowcake there. It would be risky, but very smart because of the weight. The ore is heavy, but the yellowcake is light und worth much more. It would mean bringing in very special apparatus und chemicals, but it would be smarter.”

I thought about the machinery I had seen at the entrance--ordinary mining equipment to my unqualified eye. “But what would they do with it then? How would they move it?”

She slid her fingers to the side of my face to tuck strands of hair behind my ear, the motion triggering the painful memory of sitting on the bed in the foulness of the Riverview where she had done the same thing. It had all felt so raw then, new and uncertain. But now, still facing uncertainty, I felt sure of myself.