Nirvana Effect

30



Edward took the opportunity to tend to the other errands he had in town - the I.V. apparatus, the electrodes. All was finished in an hour. If his tablet idea worked, he didn’t need any of it, but he held true to the first recorded maxim of the nirvana effect - Never lie to a seer.

To which he might add as a corollary - Never tell all the truth to a seer.

If he said he was getting the materiel for these other ideas to reduce the after-pain, he had better make sure he did so. Mahanta could all too quickly find him out.

As Edward left a pawn shop in the center of town, he caught a motion out of place in his periphery.

He would never have noticed such a thing before, but not only did it catch his attention, but he had such presence of mind that he correctly refused to react to it.

He didn’t turn his head, instead walking haphazardly in the opposite direction. Someone had reacted strongly to his coming out of the shop, ducking from sight.

Edward gripped his backpack, casually readjusting it and checking for the reassuring weight of the first aid kit within it. He was relieved to feel its hard metal edges sticking through the canvas.

The noon sun left no shadows on the dirt streets, and Edward walked a couple blocks down the road. He had no way to see who was following him without being obvious. There were very few reflective surfaces in Lisbaad.

Edward walked into a fabric store with a large window. He liked it because the glass was dirty, and with the noonday glare he couldn’t see into the store.

The shopkeeper stood from his stool. He looked surprised to have a customer. “Just browsing,” said Edward hurriedly in Tamil, then stepped down into the small display area. He went directly to the window; he could see out well enough through the grime. A few islanders walked the streets with totes on their shoulders with the day’s produce.

“Is there a particular fabric you are looking for, sir?” asked the shopkeeper, who had joined him in the display area.

“Red,” said Edward distractedly. No men. Nothing that fit what he’d seen out the corner of his eye.

“We have many excellent red products here, sir,” said the shopkeeper. Tamil obviously was not this man’s native dialect. Half the fabric here is red. “Is there any particular design you wanted?”

Edward craned his neck to try to identify his tracker. Maybe there isn’t one. Maybe I’m just getting paranoid – maybe a side effect of the drug.

“No, thank you, just looking out your window,” said Edward. Far down the road, a little boy begged at the curbside. He had no luck; the woman passing him was probably just as destitute as he was. The boy followed the woman for a little while with hand extended, then went back to his spot.

My imagination. I’m just jittery after the clinic.

The shopkeeper walked back to his counter and seated himself loudly. Edward felt the Indian’s eyes burning holes in the back of his head.

Edward turned around. “Thank you, sir,” he said, most respectfully. “I will be sure to return here if I need something red.”

“You are welcome,” said the scowling shopkeeper.

“Your window is excellent.”

Edward walked out. He gave the street another long glance in each direction. An old woman walked toward him. Edward craned his neck to see the beggar boy behind her, but the young man seemed to have gone elsewhere to try his luck.

The missionary carefully made his way back to Callista’s clinic. He turned a fifteen minute walk into several hours as he wound his trail through long alleys and shadowy corners trying to scare up a tail he wasn’t even sure existed.

It would kill him if Callista came to any harm because he wasn’t careful.