Nirvana Effect

52



Edward and James reached the neighborhood. Edward had never seen it in the daylight.

The street was a jumble of houses. Obviously foreigners of many different backgrounds and nationalities occupied this small territory carved out of the edge of Lisbaad. It had no rhyme or reason. Edward was sure the words “building” and “code” had never been uttered together on the island. Still, this neighborhood comprised the “finest” residences of Lisbaad - meaning they weren’t ancient piles of firewood.

Edward resisted the urge to barrel down the street, launch out of the car in yet another trance, kick down Cali’s door, wipe out Onge by the cartload with his trance fighting, and carry her off into the sunset. Reality was a factor he could not ignore. Physically, he was exhausted. Trance or no trance, he could only direct his body to do what his body was already capable of. With no sleep and after having gone through what amounted to a combination marathon/boxing match, he felt he could at any minute blink his eyes and wake up two days later. The after pain only made it worse.

What was more, he had no exit strategy. There was no plan once he reached Callista. He hoped she had some ideas. Maybe this crook Seacrest could help. He’d managed to subtly convince Seacrest that he was criminal; hopefully that would increase the doctor’s willingness to trust and help him.

Edward had no idea what the Onge’s strength and position was inside Lisbaad, or even inside the neighborhood. He didn’t even know if Cali was home. It was pointless to risk death fighting a troop of hunter-killers only to not even find Cali. Stealth was his best option at the present.

“Is there a back road?” asked Edward.

“There is behind my house. Not behind Callista’s,” said Seacrest.

Edward didn’t like Seacrest using her first name.

“Show me,” said Edward. The doctor pointed the way. Edward puttered the car up the road, idling as much as possible. The roar of a Corvette engine would have been too much of a tip for whatever Onge were stationed inside the houses. “Tell me when we’re a few houses away.”

“Stop, then,” said Seacrest. “We already are.”

“Are they home?” asked Edward, pointing to a nearby house.

“No, not ‘til 5:00 or so,” answered the doctor. Edward pulled up into the driveway. He parked and pulled out the key. “I wouldn’t run,” said the doctor. Edward smiled at him.

I know you wouldn’t. I have the key.

“Not just because you have the key,” said Seacrest. “As a matter of fact, a key wouldn’t be much of a barrier for me. But I want off this island. I really do. And Callista is a friend of mine. I wouldn’t play a part in her coming to any harm.”

Edward’s tired mind couldn’t help but contemplate whether Seacrest had ever managed to pick up Callista in his red ’95 Corvette. He was suddenly very happy to see it riddled with shotgun pellets.

Edward acknowledged Seacrest with a nod as he stepped out of the car. He kept the key in his pocket. “Stay here, then, will you? I’m just going to go see what’s happening. I’ll be back soon.”

Edward’s legs were killing him. He’d never moved so much in his life. His whole body was dragging. Somehow Earth’s gravity had doubled overnight. Again he fought the temptation to pop another t-pill. He only had forty-two left. They might be the last forty-two he would see in a while.

Moreover, he felt he should be cautious. He played with something he still did not even vaguely understand. Its effects begged many questions. In a way, he felt like the child who after his tenth time watching the thrilling adventure movie began to wonder how the film was shot.

In the minute alone as he crept from house to house, he finally had time to think. What’s Mahanta’s next move? Stop reacting and start ACTING.

And stop calling him Mahanta. He’s Manassa through and through. He’s enemy.

Mannassa will protect the substance first and foremost. He’ll guard the sap from me. That’s foremost on his mind. Probably he has all the plants mobile by now, without my knowledge.

Edward picked over the situation – the cars, the “lightness”, what Manassa told him about his plans.

He’ll make the big move soon. Maybe tonight. He won’t risk anything after our confrontation. He’s got to assume I’m bringing in the Jesuits. He can’t take any risks.

I’d never bring the Jesuits into this.

Edward looked at his chances. Trance or no, his gut betrayed him. Manassa will win. He would have to find some way to change that, but Mahanta had everything in his favor - the initiative, the resources, his own personal army.

He toyed again with getting help from the Jesuits. They would help him…but there goes his freedom…and who knew what General Pizo would do with the drug.

That was idiotic to ask Manassa to destroy the substance. There will be no tricking him, now. He knows what I intend. He can predict me. Edward had always had a talent for berating himself with the brilliant clarity of his own hindsight.

He watched Cali’s house from the neighbor’s, but saw nothing amiss. No lights were on.

Edward crept back around to the other side of the house to spy on Dr. Seacrest’s domicile. It looked to be a combination between an Asian garden and a log cabin. No motion there, either. No lights.

Think. Think. Think. Something was bugging him. He wished he was in trance. Something obvious. Damn it! Edward closed his eyes and breathed. He forced the exhaustion out of his body. He forced his attention to the matter at hand. Now that he’d done it in trance, he at least knew what the state felt like. He could approximate it.

Clarity wavered in and out of his consciousness. As soon as he would turn his attention on the houses, the exhaustion would work back in on him. He pushed it out again. He decided most firmly that it was gone. The houses. The houses. The lights. The lights were a subtle point in the daylight, but they told him what he needed to know.