Neon Lotus (36 page)

They were
marched into the hallway and back to the waiting elevator. Marianne and Dr.
Norbu were pushed inside by the guards, and then Governor Rato stepped in. The
car began to drop.

Marianne
took a deep breath and imagined herself flooding with white light. The
Wish-Fulfilling Gem was in her hands. She stood at the center of the mandala
that was the world. She had command of the ornaments; she was invincible.

She contrived
to brush her arm against the Governor’s side and imagined the pure light
driving into him, forcing out the psychic parasites.

Rato
twitched, shuddered, and caught himself against the wall of the elevator. He
twisted toward her, gratitude in his eyes, then snapped at her guard, “Let go
of her now. And the doctor, too. They can’t escape.”

A struggle
raged briefly in the Governor’s eyes. For the moment, she thought, he had won
control of himself. The car began to slow. Marianne waited to see the flood of
daylight across the cold bleak lobby.

Instead, the
doors opened on a rock chamber. She felt a breath of chill subterranean air.
Rato took a step forward, stumbling slightly. One of his arms spasmed, reaching
back toward the elevator, but he fought it down and turned to face the guards.

“You will
return to the surface until I give further orders,” he said. “These two will
remain with me."

Marianne and
Dr. Norbu stepped out of the elevator, the guards looked at each other,
hesitant, until Rato screamed, “Go!” His voice held all the fury of the
possessed Governor, and they hastened to obey. The doors slid shut.

Rato closed
his eyes and stood breathing deeply. Marianne put her hands on his shoulders.

“How are
you?” she asked.

“When you
touch me, I feel them shrink away. You have great strength. But I fear . . . I
fear it will not be enough. They have set too much in motion to oppose you. Or
should I say, to oppose us?”

He opened
his eyes and looked at her questioningly.

“You are a
true Tibetan,” she said, nodding. “It is not your fault, what has happened.”

“But it is,”
he said. “I strayed into the ruins.”

“You did not
make those ruins. You did not call the demons.”

Dr. Norbu
stared at them in amazement. “He has been possessed?”

She nodded.
“Like the State Oracle, but without any ritual precautions.”

“Possessed
by evil ones,” the Governor said. Suddenly his face contorted; grimacing he
cried out, “They come!”

“I have
you,” she said.

She put her
arms around him and was amazed to find how frail he felt, how small. He was an
old man, thin as Reting. And yet she could feel him swelling, his muscles
tightening, growing denser as if there were water rushing through him. Suddenly
he spread his arms, roaring, and she was thrown against the rock wall. Reting
sank down next to her.

“Marianne,”
he whispered, “he is mad.”

“Mad?” said
the Governor. “But look what madness has gained me, Dr. Norbu.”

He thrust
out a hand, pointing toward an opening in the rocks to one side of the
elevator. Far off in the darkness, Marianne saw a faint violet light. She rose
to her feet.

“You may as
well look,” said Rato. “You have come all this way. You have nothing else to
lose.”

The Governor
passed through the opening, his voice ringing through the cave, echoing.
Marianne started after him, but Reting caught her by the arm.

“What are
you doing, Marianne? We must leave while the fit is on him. Together perhaps we
can overpower him.”

“He may be
mad,” she said, “but something he says greatly disturbs me. I must see, Reting.
You may go.”

Dr. Norbu
threw down his hands. “Go where? I ran away once and it carried me straight
into the enemy's hands.”

“I pushed
you away, Reting. It was wrong of me.”

“No. I am
old enough to have known better. We should have gotten down to the truth in the
moment you voiced your doubts. You are still so young, Marianne. Sometimes I
think you forget that. But I should not have forgotten.”

She felt
herself smile. She had not lost him after all.

“Come with
me,” she said.

He nodded
toward the opening. “Lead on.”

Beyond the
elevator landing, there was no more light except that far-off purple glow.
Their steps echoed on a smooth rock floor. She could see no ceiling above them,
no walls on any side; and when she looked back, the luminous opening had
already dwindled to insignificance.

Suddenly the
Governor’s voice rang in her ears. “Look here,” he said. “Let there be an end to
your illusions.”

It sounded
as if he were speaking in her ear, but she could see him as a shadow in the
distance, limned against that purple glow. The cavern had strange acoustic
properties. He continued to speak in a low voice as she approached; his voice
carried with astonishing power and clarity. She could see that he was leaning
against a flat stone table that looked like an ancient altar.

“We had the
vajra for many years and the nectar was also ours. The lotus and the wheel were
yours to find, but not necessarily to keep.”

As she and
Dr. Norbu approached, Governor Rato stood aside and gave a flourish toward the
objects arranged upon the block.

“And so in
the end, Gyayum Chenmo, you have well served those you thought to defy. I hope
you will not be too disappointed.”

She stopped
dead, gripping Reting’s hand, feeling a deadly sickness in her soul.

There sat
the golden vajra, lifeless and dull.

And a tarnished
golden wheel, scratched by desert winds and long burial.

She cried
out and rushed past the Governor, reaching past the vajra for the third object—

The lotus.

It came to
life in her hands, flickering with the roseate radiance she had come to know so
well. Until that moment she might have believed that these were mere lifeless
replicas, designed to convince her that she had failed. But no replica could
have spoken to her as this one did, in the voice of young Tsering:

“Gyayum
Chenmo,” said the boy gazing up from the flower’s depths. “Are you well?”

She gasped,
her heart broken, and let Rato pluck the blossom from her hand.

“Yes,” he
said. “They’re all here. We intercepted your friends on their way to Chenrezi’s
lair, you see. The wheel and the lotus were quite a catch. Of course, we had
the gem all along.”

“The gem,”
she whispered.

She looked
past the stone altar and at last truly saw the violet flame that burned in the
darkness.

An ovoid
shape of black glass, suspended in midair.

No, not
suspended. There were hands around it, huge black hands that held it gingerly,
unmoving. As her eyes adjusted to the faint violet glow, her awe continued to
build. Slowly she drank in the sight of the vast shape that held the
Wish-Fulfilling Gem.

Powerful
black arms, four of them, were splayed across the darkness. Two more held the
gem at heart level. Massive black legs stood firmly rooted on the chamber
flour. Above the gem was a huge head; white teeth faintly glimmered from the
deep slash of his mouth.

She
whispered his name: “Mahakala.”

“Yes,
Mahakala,” said the Governor. “Chenrezi’s archenemy. His nemesis. Now you know
who has opposed you at every step. This cavern was discovered by Tibetan
workmen during the reformation of Lhasa. They kept it a careful secret for year
after year, until a Tibetan might again come to power in Lhasa and make use of
the knowledge. I was the first official they trusted with the secret. And
indeed, we have found it of great use. What better ally against white Chenrezi
than the great black one, Mahakala?”

Marianne
could find no words. She could not summon the strength to touch the Governor;
she did not think she could force the demons from him this time. What would
have been the point of further defiance?

“Mahakala,”
Rato said, turning toward the god. “We have brought her here at last, as you
requested. All the ornaments of Chenrezi are now in your hands. You will have
the knowledge that would have been his.”

The Governor
took up the lotus and the vajra. He walked around the stone table and stood on
tiptoe to place the vajra in Mahakala’s highest right hand. In the highest
left hand he placed the
lotus. Then he returned for the golden wheel, and placed it in the lowest of
the black god’s right hands.

When the
wheel was in place, the Wish-Fulfilling Gem began to brighten. The lotus, too,
glowed with a brilliant red fire. The vajra regained its luster as silver
whorls spiraled through the depths of the Dharma wheel.

Mahakala
came to life.

By the
violet light of the Wish-Fulfilling Gem, she saw that he was decked in chains
of crystal skulls. His triple eyes harbored deep orange flames, creating the
illusion that a furnace burned behind his massive brow. Slowly, silently, he
spread his arms and raised the gem so that its radiance poured over his face.

“At last,”
said Mahakala, in a voice as deep and heavy as the earth. “The Gyayum Chenmo.”

“We brought
her as you asked,” the Governor said. "And Chenrezi’s ornaments are yours
as well.”

“You have
done exactly as you were told,” said the black god. “But you never understood
what you were doing.”

Rato took a
step backward.

“I am no
enemy of Chenrezi’s,” said the idol. “That was your own delusion. Merely
because I am black and he is white, because I am fierce and he is kind, you
thought my gain would be his loss. But I am no more his enemy than night is the
enemy of day. We are aspects of the same compassion. And you, foolish demons,
have served both of us in the end. . . .”

Rato gasped
and started to turn away, but the altar blocked his escape. As he scrambled
over it, Mahakala’s third eye suddenly blazed with white fire. A dazzling beam
fell across the dark air and caught the Governor in flight. He stiffened,
screamed, and fell limp upon the stone. The light continued to play upon him.
His face writhed through a myriad of expressions, each more fearsome than the
last. He gave voice to a range of harrowing screams, then finally fell silent.
He lay trembling, gaping at Mahakala in terror.

“Foolish
demons,” said the black one. “You have been under the spell of the faithless
for so long that you have forgotten your gods; you have lost sight of your own
nature. You are in grave danger of ceasing to believe in yourself—and then what
will remain of you? You will be less than exiles. You will be nothing.

“But now I
have the power to lift this spell from you, to open your wisdom eyes. Look upon
me, demons. I free you now—you and those you have enslaved. Let the three-eyes
work for the common good. They are beautiful creatures, sentient as any of us.
Look on me, demons, and remember. . . .”

Rato raised
himself slightly, his brow twisted with bewilderment. Suddenly his eyes
widened; his face cleared as if the storm of fear had swept past. He gasped,
extending a hand toward Mahakala.

“We built
you!” the Governor cried, with a demon’s voice.

“Yes,” said
the god. “And my bright twin, Chenrezi. It was your great wisdom that created
us—just as you have created the three-eyed race with the tools of a new age.
May you quickly find the way to restore your glory. Serve humanity and you
serve yourself.”

Marianne
stepped forward. Mahakala fixed her in his two orange eyes.

“You . . . you
brought us here, didn’t you?” she asked.

“I did what
I could to deliver you from enemies, until I had power to do more. But there is
a great deal more that must be done. These ornaments are not mine; they were
not made for me and I cannot use them properly. You must restore them to
Chenrezi.”

Dr. Norbu
spoke up. “How is it that you know of Chenrezi, yet he seemed not to know of
you?”

Mahakala
held out the Wish-Fulfilling Cem.