The PuppetMaster (41 page)

****

At times Sahr managed to combine cooking skills with clairvoyance. Somehow she knew Uli and I were intending something dangerous, or stupid, depending on how you looked at it. On some metaphysical level she knew the puissant nature of food. She understood that if the ingredients were proportioned exactly, everything handled and combined with care, the energy and purpose imparted to the eater would be magnified. She had dishes that eased one to sleep, invigorated the mind or body, or encouraged one to be more loquacious or even amorous. She handled chilies with a profound reverence, talked to the seeds and nuts like small companions as she ground them unmercifully--always by hand--and tossed spices with the precision of an alchemist. Dinner was designed to put all worries to rest.

For Jitka, all this had come in a single afternoon lesson.

While Uli and I had been out, the two of them made Murg Noorjehani, and like many such creations, it began with garlic. That was followed by ginger, green chilies, cloves, cardamom, cinnamon, and anise seed, all ground by mortar and pestle. Fresh curds, saffron, and salt added, and all of it layered thickly on chicken that had been clucking that very morning. And then it rested as patiently as a cask of brandy, and only when we were ready, was it fried in hot ghee and topped with boiled egg and sliced almonds. Lalji, still in his most dapperness, brought it to the table with Basmati rice, pooris, mango chutney, and cucumber salad. Cold ale and cabernet flowed, and for a long time no conversation took place. Sahr came out to announce that the dinner was in Jitka’s honor. She was asking her devas to see to it that her apprentice arrived home safely, but that she also returned to her kitchen quickly.

The feel-at-ease magic in the food worked right up to dessert.

As we dug into mango pie, I asked about the afternoon shopping adventures.

“It vas a gut time. I learned much from my svester,” Jitka replied. Uli looked mildly embarrassed.

“About how to purchase gifts and not pay too much?” I asked.

“No, about you and her and all this business that has been going on,” she replied.

“You mean between us?” I was starting to feel mildly uncomfortable. “How we feel about each other? Because…”

She shot me a look that told me I was Mr. Knucklehead again. “Gut Gott, no. We already know what is going between you. Sex, sex, and more sex. No, I forced her to tell me about this business that takes you to a cave in the middle of the night. Und why you went to the red light district, and who is this terrorist that is a friend of yours.”

I sat looking bowled over, if you can do that. “First, he’s not a friend, not really, and . . . things have gotten very complicated, things I don’t understand. But they’re too important to ignore, if you know what I mean. And if it is any consolation, I did ask Uli if she wanted to fly home with you.”

Jitka grinned. “Ya, I heard about that one. I guess your ribs found out she doesn’t.”

I nodded and glanced sheepishly at Uli.

“Und you have decided what you will do if this mine is processing this ore und your friend is involved?”

I stared at her. “I thought I stated pretty clearly that he isn’t my friend, and no, I haven’t thought any of it through. Since this afternoon I’ve been trying to come up with a plan to alert the media and intelligence agencies. Anonymously, because I do not want any of us speaking directly to anyone.”

“Well, good thinking. Und you think they will actually stop this skidt?”

Uli looked at me and mouthed, “Shit.”

“I hope so. Reporters here tend to be dogged, though not always accurate. But yes, I think they will, especially if they hear the Sutradharak might be involved. The Hindustani Times, The Statesman, and Times of India would be first on the list. Then, All India Radio, and the intelligence bureaus last.”

“Und you will call them if you are sure this mine is digging uranium?”

“Even more quickly if we find it is being refined.”

Uli chimed in, “The group that really needs to be called in is the IAEA. They can investigate things internationally and find out who is really behind it. Tell the papers to contact them.”

“Right,” I agreed. “But it’s got to be without anyone knowing who’s calling. You have no idea how much people get paid off. And, we need to protect the cave.”

By the end of dessert, we had a decent plan.

Lalji, looking quite ebullient, entered to remove dessert plates and refill glasses. As he was stacking the dishes, he asked, “Would Saab like me to fetch the train tickets?”

It had slipped my mind. “Yes please, Lalji, and ask Sahr to come out in a few minutes.”

He wagged and left.

When he returned I opened the envelope and showed everyone our itinerary. “The first part is air-conditioned first class from Varanasi to Jaunpur then on to Sultanpur and Lucknow. That’s where we have dinner. That leg is in reclining chairs. In Lucknow we switch to first class sleepers, two bunks on one side and a single on the other. We can pull curtains across, making them almost like private rooms. It’s not exactly the Orient Express, but it will be a lot more comfortable than second class. From Lucknow, we roll north into the foothills. It will be cooler, more scenic, and unfortunately, traveled mostly at night.” They looked a little disappointed at that.

“And when do we get to your favorite city and bridge?” Uli was looking impish and thoroughly desirable.

I pointed to Bareilly on our itinerary. “According to this, sometime near dawn. We’ll breakfast there, then make the final run into New Delhi, maybe three and a half hours. It should put us there just after ten.”

“Und what time do we leave?” Jitka asked.

“Two-twenty, but we should be at the station by one-forty-five.”

They nodded and Uli expressed what I had been thinking; after Soma’s cremation, there would be plenty of time to place the calls.

As Sahr came in, Jitka asked, “So, Bhim, how can I help?” Without hesitation I gave her an assignment--finding the correct phone numbers of the newspapers and agencies. Then I told Sahr about our schedule. Her expression, when I told her, frightened me. I assumed her cards were to blame again, but fortunately or unfortunately, I didn’t get to ask. It was time for Uli and me to leave.

Sixty-Six

Night had descended across a docile city. The clouds had thickened again and a light rain had begun to fall. It would grow stronger. A few patrols and perfunctory checkpoints had been set up in the central sections, more for show than efficacy. The city dozed in tranquility. We motored south around the outskirts of the University. Uli wanted to talk, which was fine, as I didn’t want to drive seventeen miles thinking about the end. But I was surprised by what she wanted to discuss.

“Bhim?”

“Yes?”

“What was it like for you when you first came here?”

“The city itself? Or for me personally?”

“For you. Don’t tell me anything you don’t want to. I just want to know who you were back then, how you came to be this man I adore so much. It is like your Frisbee game, if it makes you happy or sad, I want to know why.”

I took a breath. “Well, in the beginning I was, excuse my language, a fucking shipwreck on a reef of pain. Mornings came when I didn’t think I could go from my bed to the kitchen because it hurt so much. I convinced myself I would fail at the smallest tasks. Some days I was angry, others just incredibly sad. But then a little group took to watching after me, Sahr, Satnam, and Masterji. I wondered every once in a while if they snuck around having secret meetings about me. Anyway, they waited and then began to talk to me. After a while, I talked back.”

She nodded once and I knew she actually understood.

“What made it get better?”

I had to think about that. “Mostly what they had me doing, talking, writing, handling the day-to-day chores of living here. I needed to learn a lot of things, everything from phrases to buying groceries. But it kept me active. Eventually, I began to really live here, but even after three years I wasn’t whole. I had nightmares and the shakes, and it wasn’t until you decided to shampoo your way my heart that I truly got better.”

She ignored that. “What about helping others? Did that help?”

I knew where this was coming from, and maybe where it was going. It was what she had told me in the restaurant after the séance. Her part in the Muslim riots had created a compelling need to help.

“I don’t know. Maybe I gave of myself to Soma, maybe Lalji at times, but I think I was imploding too much. I was trying to help myself more than anything and not doing a particularly good job.”

“But helping other people made the pain better, ya?”

“I suppose. I still don’t feel like I did much.”

Her other hand slapped her thigh hard. “But, look how you are helping now.”

Along with the slapping sound came the impact of her statement. I hadn’t considered the personal reimbursement of from doing something good, because I had been thinking about bombs, script, and keeping us safe. And sex, admittedly I’d been thinking about that a lot more recently. “I guess I haven’t figured out my role in it yet.”

Again she surprised me. “Adam has. He saw it immediately, Bhim, the moment you entered the city, because he knew you had something wonderful to give. It’s why he wants you to write his introduction. He knows what you can accomplish. ”

“Maybe . . . I don’t know.”

We motored along in silence for a few minutes, the intermittent wipers sweeping back and forth the way they were supposed to, intermittently. She seemed lost in thought. Trying not to think of our imminent trek in the dark, I tried humor. “So, do all Danish women get so incredibly beautiful when they are pensive?”

Being clearly in too serious a mood for that one, she said, “I was thinking of how . . . all those people want to take away sins, go to confession, pray, wash in the river. And the only to way to really wash them away is by taking away the pain of others.”

It took a moment for that to sink in, or rise to the surface, or make sense. But it did.

“Bhim, how long has it been since you have seen your mother und father?”

“Nothing like changing subjects on me. Okay, thirty-nine months. Two weeks ago I couldn’t have said it, but I believe I’m ready to see them again. Even a few of the others.”

She turned in her seat to stare at me. “You would be comfortable being Martin again?”

“I don’t think Martin ever really left. He just got sad and angry and ducked out for a while.”

She kissed my cheek. “I’m glad he’s back.”

The lights of the city slid behind us and the front beams of the Cherokee cut through blackness as we sped along the Azamgarh Highway. It felt as if the earth had fallen away and we were two gypsies on an black strip floating in space. I peered through the smeared windshield and shuddered. The secondary road that led to the mine was less than a kilometer away.

Uli slid close and put her hand on the birthstone she had given me. “Will you take me to meet them?”

At that, I pulled to the side and looked at her. “How could I not take you? I mean really, you’re my breath and blood, my beautiful premika with the golden hair all rolled into one. My parents would adore every piece of you. So would my older brother who locked me in a closet when I was a kid and gave me all this stupid fear of dark places. I did tell you about that, didn’t I?”

“Und you are ready to leave here?”

I thought for a moment and slid my fingers through her hair and along her jaw. “Emotionally, yes. The reasons for coming here are gone now. I’ve changed, and the city has changed for me. There would be things to tidy up and attend to, like making sure Sahr and Lalji have employment with the right people. But for the first time since I came, yes, I’m ready to leave.”

She looked at the rain without saying a word.

I pulled back onto the highway just in time to see two enormous lorries, filled with creamy orange rock crushed to the size of lemons, turn onto the road leading to the mine. I dimmed the lights and waited until they were enough distance ahead and followed. As soon as their giant tires hit the rubble, a thick haze of wet dust swirled into their tail streams. Even the light rain couldn’t remove it. I dimmed the lights, set the air to circulate inside, and kept a discreet distance. We were camouflaged inside a cloud of powder and exhaust in a black car at night, so I felt reasonably certain we weren’t being noticed. Occasionally, I had to clear the grime from windshield with the blades and fluid. It was like smearing mud until the spray got the upper hand.

Unlike me, Uli seemed at ease. I asked, “Can you tell what that rock is?”

“What rock?” she giggled.

“The creamy looking stuff in the trucks up ahead of us.”

“What trucks? You see trucks, Lover?”

“Now you’re joking and I’m trying to get serious here. We are on a mission.” It felt better now that she was teasing, because I was growing more nervous, probably because I had actually seen the well-armed assholes behind the barbwire.

“I’m pretty sure it’s basalt, ores they use to make aluminum.”

“Okay, so here is the important question. Why are they taking two loads of basalt toward a mine that is supposed to be sending it in the other direction?”