wait to get off this ridiculous rock. I’d rather drown in my own piss than stay here another year. “Well, I’m here right now, so I may as well make the most of it.” He sipped his wine again. He needed to change the subject. That was all he could tell her. One more question and he’d really have to start lying. He shifted in his seat and smiled. “Anyway, tell me, why is it so hard to get a date with Dr. Knowles?”
She laughed.
“Are you married with five illegitimate children and three adopted Chinese babies?” he asked quite seriously.
She laughed again. “No.” She smiled. “Is this a date , Dr. Seacrest?” she asked, matching his serious tone.
He smiled. Can’t get anything past this one. “I’m paying, so it’s a date. And your purse is locked in my ‘vette, so you can’t do anything about it.” He gauged her response. She was making a decision.
“Well, I guess it’s official,” she said. “ You’re on a date, and I’m a hostage. ” The waiter put the appetizer on their table.
Toughie. “You’re lucky. Usually I take my hostages to rundown bars. You’re more in the ‘distinguished captive’ category.”
She looked at the candle in the middle of the table and watched the dance of the flame. She didn’t look up at him as she spoke. “You know, James, I appreciate you taking me out to dinner.”
He’d known this about her. She hadn’t done this in a while. She’s got a long story. He had decided he wanted her anyway, even though he knew he’d be competing with a ghost. The challenge suited him. He’d just have to take things a lot slower with her than he was used to.
I guess I’ve got a thing for the good Dr. Knowles. “Well, Callista, I appreciate you joining me. I hope maybe we can do it again.”
She looked up at him and smiled. Whatever had shadowed her face a moment before was gone. “Well, all you have to do is lock my purse in your Corvette and, rest assured, I’ll follow you to the end of my days.”
8
Edward could not sleep.
For one, he hurt to o much. He was exhausted by pain past the point of rest.
But that’s not it. He was thinking.
Since he’d had the trance, he could not stop thinking.
He was thinking about the periodic table in just that moment . He saw it projected in his mind’s eye on the dark ceiling of the temple.
Seconds before that, he was thinking about some other scientific possibility. In a few minutes he would think of another.
For now he was thinking about proteins. There was a pattern with them. He’d glimpsed them in trance while his life’s knowledge had flashed before his eyes. It had come to him when he’d thought of Gadolinium. There was something to a pattern with the proteins, some sort of periodic table of proteins. He’d never seen a pattern before; he didn’t think anyone had seen it before.
For the first time in six years, one month, and seven days, he did not regret becoming a Jesuit missionary.
Then again, he wasn’t really a Jesuit missionary anymore. He felt new and whole.
He’d just faked renouncing his God and declaring a boy his soul’s ruler, and yet he’d never felt more free. He felt he was finally doing what God had meant him for.
He hoped Mahanta would trust him with the substance again. He felt certain he would. He needs me for something.
And I need him.
He closed his e yes and did not sleep. Protein molecules danced on his eyelids. He almost had it, and yet it eluded him.
9
It was a date, thought Callista as she got into her car behind the clinic. It was around 10:00 p.m.
After three years in Lisbaad , she thought she would have gotten used to the nights. It was no London. Since her first day here, darkness had taken on new meanings and new depths. She recalled the chilling night her headlights had both burned out, and she had to struggle home al ong the pockmarked
She laughed.
“Are you married with five illegitimate children and three adopted Chinese babies?” he asked quite seriously.
She laughed again. “No.” She smiled. “Is this a date , Dr. Seacrest?” she asked, matching his serious tone.
He smiled. Can’t get anything past this one. “I’m paying, so it’s a date. And your purse is locked in my ‘vette, so you can’t do anything about it.” He gauged her response. She was making a decision.
“Well, I guess it’s official,” she said. “ You’re on a date, and I’m a hostage. ” The waiter put the appetizer on their table.
Toughie. “You’re lucky. Usually I take my hostages to rundown bars. You’re more in the ‘distinguished captive’ category.”
She looked at the candle in the middle of the table and watched the dance of the flame. She didn’t look up at him as she spoke. “You know, James, I appreciate you taking me out to dinner.”
He’d known this about her. She hadn’t done this in a while. She’s got a long story. He had decided he wanted her anyway, even though he knew he’d be competing with a ghost. The challenge suited him. He’d just have to take things a lot slower with her than he was used to.
I guess I’ve got a thing for the good Dr. Knowles. “Well, Callista, I appreciate you joining me. I hope maybe we can do it again.”
She looked up at him and smiled. Whatever had shadowed her face a moment before was gone. “Well, all you have to do is lock my purse in your Corvette and, rest assured, I’ll follow you to the end of my days.”
8
Edward could not sleep.
For one, he hurt to o much. He was exhausted by pain past the point of rest.
But that’s not it. He was thinking.
Since he’d had the trance, he could not stop thinking.
He was thinking about the periodic table in just that moment . He saw it projected in his mind’s eye on the dark ceiling of the temple.
Seconds before that, he was thinking about some other scientific possibility. In a few minutes he would think of another.
For now he was thinking about proteins. There was a pattern with them. He’d glimpsed them in trance while his life’s knowledge had flashed before his eyes. It had come to him when he’d thought of Gadolinium. There was something to a pattern with the proteins, some sort of periodic table of proteins. He’d never seen a pattern before; he didn’t think anyone had seen it before.
For the first time in six years, one month, and seven days, he did not regret becoming a Jesuit missionary.
Then again, he wasn’t really a Jesuit missionary anymore. He felt new and whole.
He’d just faked renouncing his God and declaring a boy his soul’s ruler, and yet he’d never felt more free. He felt he was finally doing what God had meant him for.
He hoped Mahanta would trust him with the substance again. He felt certain he would. He needs me for something.
And I need him.
He closed his e yes and did not sleep. Protein molecules danced on his eyelids. He almost had it, and yet it eluded him.
9
It was a date, thought Callista as she got into her car behind the clinic. It was around 10:00 p.m.
After three years in Lisbaad , she thought she would have gotten used to the nights. It was no London. Since her first day here, darkness had taken on new meanings and new depths. She recalled the chilling night her headlights had both burned out, and she had to struggle home al ong the pockmarked
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