"You'd better close your eyes or turn away," said Jayewardene. They did as he suggested.
The vision took over and Jayewardene felt all the air go out of him. He smelled the damp jungle. Heard birds singing and the faraway flap of helicopter rotors. The sun went behind a cloud. An ant crawled up his leg. He shut his eyes. Even through his closed lids the flash was magnesium bright. There was a single deafening boom of thunder. He jumped involuntarily, then waited a moment and opened his eyes.
Through the white streak in his vision caused by the flash, he saw Tachyon kneeling next to a thin, naked, Caucasian man. Radha was stomping out small fires that had broken out in a circle around them.
"How am I going to explain this to the Central Park Zoo?" asked Danforth, his expression dazed.
"Oh, I don't know," said Jayewardene, moving slowly back down the mountainside toward Tachyon. "It sounds like great pub to me."
Tachyon helped the naked man to his feet. He was of average height with plain features. He moved his mouth but made no sound.
"I think he's come through it intact," said Tachyon, getting his shoulder under the man's armpit. "Thanks to you."
Jayewardene shook his head and pulled three identical envelopes out of his pants pocket. "What happened had to happen. When the military shows up, and they will, I want you to deliver these to them. Say they are from me. One goes to the president, one the Minister of State, the last to the Minister of the Interior. It is my letter of resignation."
Tachyon took the envelopes and tucked them away. "I see."
As for me, I intend to make the pilgrimage to the top of Sri Pada. Perhaps it will help me achieve my goal. To be rid of these visions. Jayewardene headed back toward the stone steps.
"Mr. Jayewardene," Tachyon said. "If your pilgrimage is not successful, I would be willing to do anything possible to help you. Perhaps try to put some mental damper to keep you out of touch with your ability. We leave tomorrow. I suspect your government will be glad to see us go. But you'd be more than welcome to come with us."
Jayewardene bowed and moved over toward Paula and Robyn.
"Mr. Jayewardene," Robyn said in a rasping voice. Her blond hair was tangled and matted with mud. Her clothes were in shreds. Jayewardene tried not to look. "Thank you for helping save me."
"You're most welcome. But you should be gotten to a hospital as soon as possible. Just for observation." He turned to Paula. "I plan to make the pilgrimage up the mountain now, if you'd like to come."
"I don't know," said Paula, looking down at Robyn. "Go ahead," Robyn said. "I'll be fine."
Paula smiled and looked back at Jayewardene. "I'd love to."
The multicolored neon reflects brokenly from the wet pavement. The Japanese are all around us, mostly men. They stare at Peregrine, who has her beautiful, banded wings folded tight around her. She looks ahead, ignoring them.
We have been walking a long way. My sides burn and my feet ache. She stops at an alleyway and turns to me. I nod. She walks slowly into the darkness. I follow, afraid of making a noise that will attract attention. I feel useless, like a shadow. Peregrine stretches her wings. They almost touch the cold stone on either side of the alleyway. She folds them back.
A door opens and the alley is filled with light. A man steps out. He is thin, tall, with dark skin, almond eyes, and a high forehead. He cranes his head forward to look at us. "Fortunato?" she asks.
Jayewardene crouched next to the dying embers of the campfire. A few other pilgrims sat wordlessly next to him. The vision had awakened him: Even here there was no escape. Although the pilgrimage was not officially complete until he returned home, he knew that the visions would continue. He was tainted with the wild card virus, perhaps tainted by the years he'd spent in foreign countries. Spiritual purity and completeness was impossible to attain. At least for the present.
Paula came up behind him and put her hands lightly on his shoulders. "It's beautiful up here, really."
The others around the campfire looked up at her suspiciously. Jayewardene guided her away. They stood at the edge of the peak, staring out into the dark mist down the mountain.
"Each religion had its own belief about the footprint," he said. "We believe it was made by Buddha. The Hindus say it was made by Shiva. Moslems argue that it is where Adam stood for a thousand years, atoning for the loss of paradise."
"Whoever it was, they had a big foot," Paula said. "That print was three feet long."
The sun came up over the horizon, slowly bringing light to the swirling mists below them. Their shadows grew huge in the grayness. Jayewardene caught his breath. "The Specter of the Brocken," he said, closing his eyes in prayer.
"Wow," said Paula. "I guess it's my week for things giant."
Jayewardene opened his eyes and sighed. His fantasies about Paula had been as unrealistic as those about his hope of destroying his power through the pilgrimage. They were like two wheels in a clockwork whose teeth meshed but whose centers forever remained at a distance. "What you have seen is the rarest of wonders here. One can come here every day for a year and not witness what we have."
Paula yawned, then smiled weakly. "Sounds like it's time to go down."
"Yes. It's time."
Danforth and Paula met him at the airport. Danforth was shaved and in clean clothes, almost the same cocksure producer he'd met only a few days ago. Paula wore shorts and a tight, white T-shirt. She seemed ready to get on with her life. Jayewardene envied her.
"How's Miss Symmes?" he asked.
Danforth rolled his eyes. "Well enough to have called her lawyer three times in the last twelve hours. I'm really in the soup now. I'll be lucky to stay in the business at all."
"Offer her a five-picture deal and plenty of points," said Jayewardene, cramming his entire knowledge of film jargon into one sentence.
"Sign this guy up, Mr. D." Paula grinned and took Jayewardene by the arm. "He might be able to get you out of some jams even I couldn't."
Danforth stuck his thumbs through his belt loops and rocked back and forth. "That's really not a bad idea. Not bad at all." He took Jayewardene's hand and shook it. "I really don't know what we would have done without you."
"Gone right down the drain." Paula gave Jayewardene a one-shoulder hug. "I guess this is where we have to say good-bye."
"Mr. Jayewardene." A young government courier shouldered his way through the crowd to their side. He was breathing hard, but took time to straighten his uniform before handing Jayewardene an envelope. It bore the presidential seal.
"Thank you," he said, popping it open with his thumb. He read it silently.
Paula leaned in to look, but the writing was Sinhalese. "What does it say?"
"That my resignation has not been accepted and I am considered to be on an extended leave of absence. Not exactly the safest thing he could have done, but much appreciated." He bowed to Danforth and Paula. "I'll look for the film when it comes out."
"King Pongo," Danforth said. "It'll be a monster hit for sure."
The plane was more crowded than he had expected. People had been wandering around since after takeoff, chatting, complaining, getting drunk. Peregrine was standing in the aisle, talking to the tall, blond man who'd been with her in in the bar. They were keeping their voices low, but Jayewardene could tell from the looks on their faces that it was not a pleasant conversation. Peregrine turned away from the man, took a deep breath, and walked over to Jayewardene.
"May I sit next to you?" she asked. "I know everyone else on this plane. Some considerably better than I'd like."
"I'm flattered and delighted," he said. And it was true. Her features and fragrance were beautiful but intimidating. Even to him.
She smiled, her lips curving in an almost inhumanly attractive manner. "That man you and Tach saved. He's sitting right over there." She indicated him with the arch of an eyebrow. "His name's Jeremiah Strauss. Used to be a minor league ace named the Projectionist. I guess we're all bozos on this bus. Ah, here he comes now"