“For such a powerful woman, you’re remarkably boring.” I yawn. “But I suppose you’re a big hit with all the Pentagon generals.”
Cia snickers. “You think I still work with those fools? I gave them sixty years to figure out how to speed up their damn ships. And they’re still stuck circling the planets.”
Seymour is puzzled. “So you don’t work on the fast walkers anymore?”
“Nope,” Cia says.
Matt intrudes. “You’ve known where Vishnu’s Vimana is. Yet you have waited until now to come for it. Why? Is there something that keeps you from boarding it?”
Cia looks at him with approval. “A thinking man. I like that. Yes, the vimana is difficult to enter. It only responds to someone it recognizes.”
Cia and Matt look at me; they all do.
“I’ve never seen this Joshua tree before. Or Vishnu’s Vimana,” I say.
“You have,” Cia says. “But like everything that has to do with this topic, you don’t remember. In Auschwitz we did our best to help you with this block. But it’s time you got over it for yourself.” She adds, “You don’t want us to help you again.”
“You and your tedious threats,” I mutter.
Cia turns to her companion. “Give them level three.”
The man turns a dial on the box. The faint screeching sound starts, low at first, then louder, bringing with it brain-bursting pain. Matt and I double up; it’s impossible to block it out. The pain vibrates every nerve in our skulls. I have never seen Matt cry out before.
Then I notice we’re not alone. Seymour is also suffering from the sound. I don’t understand why. Is our telepathic link still intact? Is the tiny amount of blood I put in his veins to cure his HIV infection resonating with the noise? He drops to his knees and blood runs from his nose. The sound is killing him.
“You’ve made your point!” I gasp.
Cia signals to the man, who twists the dial back to zero. The pain recedes immediately. Matt kneels to attend to Seymour, but my attention is diverted. For a few seconds, as my jangled nerves were calming down, I saw the faint outline of a red vimana where the Joshua tree on our left is standing. It was not a mirage, it was real.
Indeed, I suspect it’s the trees that are not real.
“You learn faster these days,” Cia says. “Or is it that you value your companions so highly?”
“I have no memory of Vishnu’s Vimana,” I reply.
For the first time Cia steps close. She stops within striking distance, and I have no doubt she’s taunting me. A leap into the air, a kick with my right foot—I could decapitate her in an instant. But what would the man with the box do? Turn the dial up to ten? Seymour’s head would explode. Certainly Matt and I would be knocked out, leaving the others helpless.
Our foes have planned this encounter carefully.
“By now you must recognize the pattern,” Cia says. “All memories relating to the vimanas are blocked inside you. Until we stimulated you at Auschwitz, you had no memories at all of what went on during the Battle of Kurukshetra. You didn’t even recall listening to your blessed Krishna’s talk about the vimanas.”
“Go on,” I say.
“Shortly after you left Auschwitz, you blocked the memories again. To put it bluntly, Sita, something inside you is forcing you to play the fool. Knowing your fiery temperament, that must annoy you. Personally, it would enrage me. I wouldn’t stand for it—no, I’d fight against the block with everything inside me.”
“Unless the block was put there for a reason,” Matt says.
Cia’s face registers a flash of anger before she hides it with a fake smile. “Can you suggest a reason for the block?” she asks.
Matt considers. “Not long before he died, my father told me about the vimana you seek. Hearing about it affected me deeply. Suddenly the world was no longer enough. Simply knowing the vimana exists here on earth has driven me to find it. I’d go so far as to say it has come close to driving me nuts.”
“It affected you that much?” I say.
Cia snorts. “You would have reacted worse. You would have spent your entire life trying to locate the vimana so you could fly off into the stars and find the magical world where your blessed Krishna lives.”
I go to snap at her but realize she’s right.
“It’s the time for all the old secrets to be revealed,” Cia says. “Tell Sita everything Yaksha told you, Matt. She deserves to know the truth.”
“Matt,” I say when he doesn’t respond.
“I hate talking about it in front of them,” he says.
“But they already know. They have always known,” I reply.
Matt hesitates. “The two of you didn’t drift forever in the damaged ship. You were rescued by celestial beings my father had no words for. They brought you home, and yet it was so painful for you to leave them after what they had shown you, you asked that all your memories be erased.” Matt pauses. “You’re the cause of the block. You’re the one who asked for it.”
His words almost knock me over. “Did Yaksha?”
“No.”
“He knew the truth all these years?”
“Yes.”
“Then how come he didn’t leave?”
“He had made a vow.”
To destroy all the vampires, I think. To kill me.
“I understand,” I say.
Cia continues. “Now that you know the truth, you can finally be of some use to us. The situation is simple. The Vishnu Vimana will only open for a person who has entered it before. Sita, you’re the only living person who’s been inside it. You might say you’re the key that can unlock its door.” She points to the Joshua tree on our right. “Enter it now or we’ll kill your companions. Starting with your beloved Seymour.”
“Don’t listen to them,” Seymour says, the front of his shirt stained with blood. His nose has barely begun to stop leaking.
“Quiet. Let me think,” I say, studying the ground around the Joshua tree and the tree itself. Besides being extremely tall, it has four arms, not two like its companion. It reminds me of how devotees in India often paint Krishna with four arms. It’s said that when Krishna showed his divine form to Arjuna on the battlefield of Kurukshetra, he revealed himself in his four-armed form, among others.
“If I enter it, what’s to stop me from flying away?” I ask.
“Your friends,” Cia says.
I shrug. “You’re going to kill them anyway.”
“We wouldn’t kill them, at least not for a while. We would make them pay for your lack of cooperation. In the same way we made Anton pay.” Cia pauses. “You still hear his cries in the night, don’t you, dear?”
“Bitch,” I mutter.
Cia smiles. “Are you going to help us or not?”
“What are you going to do with the ship once you have it?”
“That’s no concern of yours.”
I turn to Mr. Grey. “You say you’re loyal to me. Show me. Show me now.”
“What do you want?” he asks.
“Advice.”
Mr. Grey studies our assailants. “Go along with them.”
Cia appears to take notice of Mr. Grey for the first time. “You called us here at the right time and I’m grateful. But now I want you to leave.”
“He stays,” I say. “He’s resourceful. Who knows? I might need his help finding the doorway.”
Cia takes her time answering. “Very well, proceed.”
I turn and walk toward the Joshua tree. It seems to grow in height as I approach. Over a hundred feet tall, it’s equal to a dozen of the mightiest specimens in the national park. Reaching out to touch it, I feel it has skin rather than bark. In reality the tree is wrapped in countless tiny fibers. Wound together they have a rubberlike consistency.
Joshua trees have no growth rings; it’s impossible to determine their age. Experts believe they can live as long as the redwoods. Thousands of years, like me. Perhaps the greatest miracle is how they’re able to thrive in such a ho
stile climate. Their root system is vast, they can survive for years without a drop of rain.
“Do you know I’m here?” I ask as I circle the tree, staring up at its branches. It’s late summer; its flowers have already bloomed and died. I can understand why the early Mormons crossing the desert were so taken by the trees that they named them after a biblical hero. My tree’s bare arms are so thick they look like they’re made of solid muscle.
My tree. It feels familiar.
Yet touching it, talking to it, chanting mantras to it, fails to elicit a response. I return to the others. Cia stares at me, her face difficult to read.
“Can you give me a hint of what I’m supposed to do?” I ask.
“It should recognize you,” Cia says.
“It doesn’t.”
“Then you’re of no use to us.” Cia glances at her partner.
I hold up a hand. “Stop with the threats, would ya? They’re not going to help you get what you want.”
Cia gestures to the eastern horizon. “Time is short.”
“What’s the matter?” Seymour snickers. “Are you vampires? Do you turn to dust in the sunlight?”
Cia waves a finger at him. “I don’t like you. You . . .”
“Give Sita something to work with,” Matt interrupts.
“Either the vimana welcomes her or not. There’s no trick.” Cia pauses. “Except perhaps the purity of her heart.”
“What would you know about a pure heart?” I say.
Cia shrugs. “It’s something the ancient scriptures mention. It has nothing to do with us.”
“Sita,” Sarah whispers. I turn toward her, step near.
“Yes?”
Sarah whispers in my ear. “The veil’s in my coat pocket.”
“Why did they let you keep it?”
“They beat me until I told them where it was. But they let me hold on to it. They seem allergic to it.” I feel coarse silk brush my hand. Sarah is trying to give it to me without Cia seeing. Good luck, I think. “Take it,” she says.
“All right.” I stuff the veil in my pocket and walk back toward the tree. Once behind it, hidden from view, I cover my head with the veil. It brings a familiar comfort.
But it does nothing to change the tree into a spaceship.
I drop to my knees and plead with it. “If you really are there, we need your help,” I pray.
The tree does not hear me. The tree remains a tree.
Yet I feel something different in that moment. The certainty that it is a vimana solidifies inside me. And I know it’s the vimana that rescued me and Yaksha when we were drifting in space. The certainty raises serious questions. Why did the celestial beings who built the ship, who roamed the galaxy in it, leave it here to be found?
Why did they leave it for me?
It’s obviously a powerful vessel. If I turn it over to Cia and her partner, what will they do with it? For all I know they could use it to destroy the world. It becomes clear to me right then that I can’t let them have it, no matter what.
Putting the veil in my pocket, I walk back to the group.
“Are you sure we have the right tree?” I ask.
Cia is not amused. “You test my patience. You have been in this ship before. It should respond to you.”
“I don’t know what to tell you,” I say.
“Perhaps you’re not sufficiently motivated,” Cia says.
She turns to her companion, who hands her the box. The man pulls out a revolver—a Colt Python, which carries .357 magnum rounds. There’s plenty of stopping power in those bullets. He points the weapon at Seymour, and I immediately leap in front of my friend.
“Kill him and I’ll never help you,” I warn.
“You’re not helping us as it is.” Cia nods to the man. “Kill him.”
“Wait!” I cry, pulling Seymour near my back. “Let’s talk about this. You want something only I can give you. Kill Seymour and you lose all leverage with me. You know I’m serious. You’ll both be rotting in hell before I try to open that vimana for you.”
Cia steps toward me and locks her eyes on mine. Never in my life have I felt so sickened by a pair of eyes. Holes, pits, emptiness—the words fail to convey the icy void behind her gaze.
Yet buried in the abyss is a dark being. A creature that was once so bright, so radiant, that it was named the Light Bearer—Lucifer. Or the name it has now chosen—Tarana.
Frau Cia, the woman who stands before me, is long gone, consumed by this thing that crept out of black space and entered our world. Because she looks human, because she talks like a human, it’s easy to forget what she really is. But I remember Auschwitz, the millions who died there, and I know I will never forget.
There’s no bargain I can make with Frau Cia that she’ll keep.
She nods as if reading my mind. “We already made our deal, Sita. Don’t you remember? But you tried to cheat your way out of it.”
Her words cast a spell over me, transport me.
“I remember,” I say.
• • •
I step up to the front and nod to the Scale and the Caretakers.
“I am Sita. I am five thousand one hundred and fifty-two years old.”
A stir goes through the room. Voices murmur all around.
A tall red-hooded Caretaker orders everyone to hush.
Something about his voice sounds familiar.
Keeping my eyes open, I stretch out my arms. As I place my hands above the plates, palms upward, I feel as if something reaches out and locks them in place. The invisible grip is strong enough to hold a normal human in place. Of course, I’m not human, yet I suspect that even I could not break free.
Diamonds begin to collect on the right side, small ones. This goes on for a while and I feel encouraged but then black pearls start to pour onto the left plate. I realize this must be a result of when Yaksha changed me into a vampire. Back in the days when we killed whoever crossed our path.
Then something miraculous happens.
A single giant diamond appears above the right plate. It drops onto it from a height of several inches and heavily weighs it down. In an instant I know the precious jewel is from the day I met Krishna and took a vow not to make any more vampires.
Then fate intervenes.
Pearls and diamonds begin to pour out of the thin air at an incredible speed. There are so many on each side, they begin to fall off the plates onto the table. I have to ask myself how I managed to commit so many good and bad deeds. The Scale acts like I never stopped killing or saving people.
Near the end, the flow begins to slow.
Especially on the diamond side. The pearls take over.
The left side looks like it’s going to win.
Then a handful of extra-large diamonds appears.
The Scale wobbles back and forth, up and down. More than half the pearls and diamonds, half my life, lie spread over the black table. It’s not fair but I realize this isn’t a place where you get to argue your case.
At some point the invisible grip releases my hands, and my arms fall to my sides. I close my eyes. My fingers feel stuck in the black pearls and diamonds. I feel my life inside them. My heartbeat has returned. I feel it breaking.
The room falls silent.
A screeching sound suddenly fills the room.
I open my eyes and see the left plate is lower.
The black pearls have won.
The tall red-hooded Caretaker grabs my left arm.
I try to shake him off and fail. He is very strong.
“I know what bloody door I have to take,” I snap.
He doesn’t raise his hood and I cannot see his face.
Yet he speaks in a voice I know.
“You have been judged and there is no escape from that judgment. You are damned. A word from me and you will be taken through the red door, where there is only fire and pain. There you will burn. But not like you burned on earth. In the world of the living you were a vampire. There you would heal quickly. But i
n the world of fire, there is no relief. There is only agony.”
I cower. I want to tell him to forget his speech and get on with it but I feel as long as he’s talking, I’m not suffering. In that moment, even an instant without pain feels like a blessing.
I bow my head. “I am listening,” I say.
He comes near. “I have the power to give you a respite from your judgment,” he says.
“How long a respite?”
“Does it matter? Say no to me now and you will burn.”
I can’t allow this monster to put me in the fire.
After suffering such agony, I’d never be myself again.
From the shadow of his hood, his eyes bear down on me. Once more, my spirit cowers. My fear is too great. I choose without really choosing.
“What do you want?” I ask.
He tells me what to do and I agree to do it.
He offers me his hand and I shake it.
Deal.
• • •
Frau Cia’s mouth smiles, even if her eyes don’t. “You do remember.”
“That deal was made void,” I say. “You tried to trick me. It was my own guilt that caused me to place my thumb on the black-pearl side of the Scale. I damned myself, but before I passed into your accursed realm, I realized what I was doing and freed myself.”
Cia throws her head back as if to laugh. But no sound comes out of her mouth. Her eyes suddenly lock on the stars as they fade with the rising light in the east. She stands staring into space as if remembering her own ancient past. The surrounding air suddenly darkens and I feel an invisible black hand brush near my heart. Long ago, the same hand came for her and she invited it in. I would pity her if I didn’t hate her so much.
Finally she looks at me. “You made the deal. It doesn’t matter that afterward you forgave yourself. You shook on it. A deal is a deal.”
I begin to tremble. I don’t want to, not in front of my friends, and definitely not in front of her, but I cannot help myself. She’s talking about returning to the fire Tarana threatened me with in front of the Scale. The eternal flames that never stop burning . . .
“I was free of this world,” I say. “Krishna invited me into his realm. I only came back to help. I cannot be damned because of that choice.”