The Surviving Sky, page 34
Her home had changed. He had noticed that instantly on walking in. Was it his home at all anymore? The ashram had removed his presence from the architecture, even if Iravan himself wasn’t sure of how he felt. What am I doing? he thought, and Bharavi’s voice echoed in his head. Don’t you love her anymore? Did he?
Standing outside in the open air, his head still supported by the leafy wall of Ahilya’s home, Iravan searched his heart for the answer. Less than two days before, he had come to Ahilya, begging her to take him back, to save him, but after their last fight, he had thought he had made his final decision. He had told her about the sanctum not to change her mind but to make a clean break, cement his last goodbye.
The Resonance danced between his brows, a fiery presence, tempting him to connect with it. Yet in front of it—ahead of the deep, unending presence of the Resonance—flickered Ahilya, smiling at him. He could almost forget about the Resonance if he focused on her.
I love her, he thought. I love her so much.
How could he not? She was Ahilya. She was the beacon of everything that was right and true with him; she had always been his guiding star, and when he had lost sight of her—that was when he had lost himself. He belonged, in so many defining ways, to her. A fight didn’t change that. Nothing would change that.
And yet the Resonance burned in his mind like a candleflame. He was afraid to look at it closely. Bharavi had said it was a sign of Ecstasy. She had been right, of course; he could see that now. He had been in danger of Ecstasy since he’d stumbled into the Resonance during Nakshar’s landing. She had said he would fight it. Was this what she’d meant? This contest between choosing Ahilya or choosing Ecstasy? He was too afraid to untangle that thought.
Iravan lifted his head off the wall and took a deep breath. He wound his way slowly down the path leading from Ahilya’s small house, but he didn’t make his way to the temple. Instead, he walked toward the solar lab.
The lab was busier than ever. Sungineers collected around their bio-nodes, chatting in agitated voices. Holograms floated along the floor, sometimes intersecting with each other, making any meaning illegible. Iravan found Dhruv on the main floor, speaking with the two others from the morning’s council meeting. He caught Dhruv’s eye, gestured with his head, and strolled away to a quiet window as the taller man trotted up to him.
“Well?” Dhruv asked. “Did you have an epiphany that couldn’t wait until our next meeting?”
“Not an epiphany,” Iravan replied. “But I do have something for you. A peace offering.”
He withdrew a small glass cube from his pocket. The tiny deathbox containing the lone spiralweed leaf sat on his hand, its contours smooth and unmarked. Dhruv stared at it, unmoving. The sungineer didn’t reach for it.
“Why?” he asked at last, his bespectacled eyes meeting Iravan’s.
“Because the battery is important. Because I think that’s the direction in which technology should develop. Because if the tracker is truly feeding off Ecstatic trajection, then it is dangerous.”
“You want the tracker in exchange for this, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
Still, the sungineer didn’t take the deathbox. Dhruv removed his glasses, wiped them on the edge of his sleeve, then returned them to his nose.
Iravan waited. He knew speaking now would be a mistake. He counted the seconds, willing himself not to move.
Finally, Dhruv sighed. He withdrew a necklace from his pocket. On its end dangled the chunky tracker that Iravan had seen Ahilya carry during the expedition. “Take it,” Dhruv said wearily. “This is likely to be more trouble than it’s worth.”
The two exchanged the devices. Iravan hefted the locket in his hand. “How can I tell if it’s recharging?” he asked.
“It’ll begin chiming when it’s around Energy X,” Dhruv said. He made to leave, but Iravan held out his hand, arresting his movement.
“Wait,” he said. “Have you told Kiana about this yet?”
“No.”
Iravan said nothing, but his eyes held Dhruv’s.
“For fuck’s sake, Iravan,” Dhruv said. “I won’t tell her—if that’s what you want.”
“It’s dangerous. I would keep this to the architects as long as I can. Until I can confirm whether Ecstatic trajection is different from normal trajection—”
“Yes, sure, whatever. I’m sure you have your reasons that sungineers shouldn’t know about.”
Iravan sighed and pocketed the tracker. “Thank you, Dhruv. I think, if circumstances had been different, we could have been… friends.”
Dhruv rolled his eyes. “Don’t get carried away. I’m doing it for Ahilya, not you. Maybe if you treated her well, you and I would have had a chance at friendship, but she deserves better than you. She always has.”
“Someone like you?”
The sungineer cringed. “You know very little about our relationship if you think Ahilya and I could ever be romantic.” He turned on his heel and strode away, ending their conversation.
Iravan watched him go. He had not meant his statement to indicate the possibility of romance between his wife and the sungineer—the two had grown up together as siblings; Iravan had known this all along. Still, Dhruv had never liked him. Close with Ahilya as he was, perhaps he had envisioned someone different for her, someone more nurturing, someone who pampered her. Oam flashed in Iravan’s mind, the way he had reached out to his wife, the way she had grasped his hand, with Iravan the interloper.
He and Ahilya had never coddled each other; their relationship, and then their marriage, had been built on challenging each other, on becoming better, on growing together. Yet the path had grown corrupted without their notice. They had become harder instead of stronger. How had they come to this? Could there be any resolution now? She had asked him to stay, and he had agreed, but the Resonance burned in him, tempting him. How long could he ignore its call?
Lost in thought, Iravan left the solar lab. His feet tracked no destination. Instead, he turned at his whim, past homes and playgrounds, past quiet markets and empty streets. Airav had wasted no time. The ashram that had spanned acres in the sky was contracting. Tall trees grew on every corner, holding multiple crowded apartments in their boughs. Iravan wound his way through narrow lanes and muttering citizens who stood watching the growth. Several people hailed him, but he only waved and hurried on.
He found himself back at the temple within the Ecstatic ward.
No one else was about, and Iravan strode in, unchallenged. He approached Manav’s room and spun the dials. The glass cleared, and Manav stared at him, almost at eye level.
Iravan stumbled back, nearly tripping.
The man was inches away, staring at Iravan, staring through him. It was like looking into a terrible mirror, their skins almost as dark, their hair just as long. Bharavi shook her head in Iravan’s mind. You are on your way. There’s no going back.
Iravan stared at Manav, forcing himself to truly see him. Is this my fate? Is this who I will one day become? He had released Bharavi, a more merciful path than what awaited him. Who would release him? Iravan pressed the dials on the glass and the tint increased. He stumbled away through the corridor, past the Ecstatic ward, toward an empty courtyard in the sanctum.
A lone bench grew under the sanctum’s neem tree. Iravan sat down, shafts of midmorning sunlight warming his skin.
There, embedded in the peace of the ashram he loved so dearly, Iravan closed his eyes and examined the Resonance.
It had dulled to a gentle warmth behind his brows while he had been in the council meeting, and later at Ahilya’s home. Now as he watched, it flared under his attention.
I know you, he thought. What are you?
The warmth flickered, expanding and contracting behind his eyes like wings flapping. Iravan took a deep breath. Gently, he let his attention draw closer.
The Resonance grew warmer.
He retreated.
The warmth subsided.
He drew closer again, and once more the Resonance flared, burning hot yet not uncomfortable. The two paths opened in his mind. He saw himself standing at the inevitable fork, suspended in animation as he struggled to choose.
I’ve found, Bharavi said to him, acceptance.
And Iravan chose the second path.
He touched the Resonance.
His vision split in the manner of trajection—no, it enhanced. He saw himself sitting there, alone on the bench underneath the neem tree, and above him the sky moved, the sun descending into the night sky into the morning sun into the night sky. Time trickled around him, one drop into another, one state becoming another, but he was eternal. He heard the grass grow, the shrrrkk sharpness of the sound, a part of the melody he heard. He saw the dew collect, the pool of water reflecting his own infinite states of being.
And in what had once been his second vision, he saw himself in the blackness of the non-Moment.
The darkness was no longer terrifying. It was a welcome oblivion, as though by acknowledging it, he had brought in the light. Iravan wandered in the folds of the familiar dark, his belly dropping like he was suspended in a vacuum. The blackness stretched infinite in all directions, but what was direction? There was no conception of time and space in this dimension, this Deepness. He thought, and the Moment appeared in front of him, a globule of lights like a dewdrop that had trapped all the stars.
Above him, the sun set and rose many times.
The song of the Resonance echoed within his heart.
And Ahilya burst through his mind, her smile faltering as he told her he was going away, as he promised he would return.
Iravan wrenched himself out of the Deepness abruptly.
He was still sitting on the bench under the neem tree, but dusk had fallen. How many dusks? How long? The two paths opened in his mind again; he stood at the fork. He had taken a step down the second path, but he still had a choice. He knew there would come a time when the fork disappeared, when choosing a path would be irrevocable, a decision he couldn’t undo.
Iravan jumped up, panic racing through him, and ran along Nakshar, through the winding streets and the muddy paths until he reached Ahilya’s home. He didn’t knock; he banged on the wall with his fist. Leaves trembled on the ivy, sending echoes of his panic inside the structure. The bark split open. Iravan hurried in to see Ahilya sitting at the table, several notebooks spread out in front of her, a finger just releasing her citizen ring.
“What happened?” she asked, pushing back her chair.
“How long was I gone?”
“A few hours—since this morning. Why, what do you mean?”
Iravan covered his face with a trembling hand and stumbled toward the table. A few hours. That was all. A part of him knew the horror in the relief he felt—he had disappeared for a few hours, and hadn’t known, but it could have been worse, it could have been much worse. He had pulled himself out because of a fleeting memory of a promise. What if he had ignored it? How long would he have lost himself in the Resonance? Was that what lay on the other path? Not clarity but a deeper loss of himself?
He stood hunched over the table, his fists on the wood, deep breaths shaking his body.
“Iravan, what happened?” Ahilya asked, standing up.
“Did—did anything—Is Nakshar all right? There wasn’t another Ecstatic attack like Bharavi’s, w-was there?”
“No, of course not. Why are you asking that?”
Iravan shook his head, unable to answer. In a way, the connection with the Resonance had been similar to the merging of his Two Visions except, somehow, freer. Instead of losing his visions, his sight had opened to more dimensions, seen a truer version of reality. Was he losing his mind? Sooner or later, you’ll give in, Bharavi said. And let’s face it—you and Ahilya. You and Ahilya—He pushed away from the table. Ahilya had approached him, her beautiful eyes clouded with concern, her hand retracting like she had thought to touch him but had been unsure of it.
Iravan grabbed her wrist before she could pull away completely.
“What do you want, Ahilya?” he said angrily, reeling from everything that had happened.
Her eyes went wide, startled. “I want you to be happy. I want us to be happy. I want you to kiss me.”
Surprise lanced through Iravan, shaking him out of the memory of the Resonance. Of those three demands, he chose the one he could fulfill. He pulled her closer, bent his head, and brushed his lips against hers.
Her breathing was shallow, and she pressed her mouth to his, her arms coming up to encircle his waist. Iravan cradled her face, deepening his kiss before he knew what he was doing. His teeth grazed over her lips, and he bit her, softly first, then harder. Ahilya moaned deep in her throat, her hands running through his hair, and for a moment, Iravan forgot everything else. All of his rage and confusion and fear poured out of him; he lifted her up, her body pressed against his, her legs wrapped around his waist, and he kissed her hungrily.
Gasping, Ahilya pulled away. She stared at him, her eyes wide.
“I—” Iravan began, starting to release her. “Ahilya—I’m—”
She leaned forward and kissed him again. Iravan hitched her higher and backed up toward the corner where her bed was. He waved a hand to widen the bed and stumbled into it, abruptly sitting on it. Her legs were still wrapped around him; she tugged at his kurta, and Iravan yanked it off, over his head. She pulled hers off too, shucking off her trousers, undoing the drawstring around his, removing both of their clothes. Then she was pushing him back on the bed and straddling him.
“Ahilya,” he growled, the heat gathering in him.
“No,” she said. “Don’t speak.”
Her hands fluttered over his chest, reaching lower. She leaned down to kiss him again, and her hair tickled his neck. His hands cupped her lush curves, and he squeezed. Ahilya gasped again, and she pulled him into her, and she felt so right, so familiar, like the sweetest nectar, that Iravan groaned, his breathing ragged; the both of them moved faster, holding on to each other, and Ahilya’s grip in his hair was almost painful as she rode him and he moved deeper. Iravan spasmed and shuddered and she did too—
Then she collapsed onto him, her chest heaving, both their bodies sweaty.
They remained unmoving for a long time.
Ahilya disengaged slowly. She made to get up, off the bed, but Iravan reached for her. She froze, then settled back into his shoulder. Their fingers entangled, in and out. For the first time in nearly eight months, some of his tension receded.
She broke the silence first. “Iravan,” she said softly. “I—We didn’t—My cycle…my month’s blood—” Ahilya took a deep breath, her chest rising under his arm. “It’s not why I asked for this—but if we were to make a baby—it was… the right time.”
His hand stilled in hers, and she lifted herself up to look into his eyes, but it was not Ahilya he saw. Iravan saw the faces of their children, a girl who looked like Ahilya, and a boy with his midnight-dark skin. The image flickered for a second, and an ache grew in him, so strong, so deep, that for a second Iravan couldn’t breathe. He thought of his fight with Ahilya all those months before. He thought of Bharavi saying You were holding on to your material reality while exercising the Ecstatic powers of trajection. And Iravan thought of the Resonance that had reappeared in his mind, that had never truly left, even during his act of intimacy. His fingers twitched uneasily.
“What do you want, Ahilya?” he asked, but this time there was no anger in his question. He watched as a dozen expressions flew over her face, confusion and anger and regret.
“I want our marriage back,” she said. “What do you want?”
Iravan’s eyes drifted from hers to the ceiling, where sungineering globes emitted their soft yellow light, and where there was still no phosphorescence. “I want to do what’s right.”
“And what is that?”
“I’m not sure anymore.”
The Resonance glimmered again in his head, and Iravan pressed a hand to his forehead to suppress it. The two paths had reappeared. Would they never cease to haunt him? He looked back at Ahilya, but she had quieted, her face withdrawn. It would not do. If balance were possible, he would achieve it—he would not become like Bharavi. He could not.
Iravan nudged her closer. “We never talked about that time in the jungle.”
“There wasn’t anything more to say,” she muttered.
“I shouldn’t have—The way I—” Iravan grimaced. “I’m sorry, Ahilya. I shouldn’t have hijacked your mission.”
The corner of her lips lifted slightly. “As everyone is reminding me, I only survived because of you, Iravan-ve.”
“No,” he said at once, sitting up. “Not you. Please, not you.”
Iravan wasn’t sure what he was denying, her excuses for him or her use of the respectful suffix, but her words wrought a thorn through his heart. He shook his head again, and Ahilya nodded slowly, as though understanding what he himself could not. She sat up too and stroked his jaw with her hand, her thumb running along his cheek. Iravan leaned into her, this comfort she was giving him that he did not deserve.
“You were so fearless in the jungle,” he said. “It was the first time I went back in there since my own Junior Architect training; did you know that?”
Ahilya nodded, but she didn’t remove her hand from his cheek, and she didn’t say anything.
“Isn’t that ridiculous?” Iravan continued, with a sarcastic laugh. “A Senior Architect oblivious of the jungle? We have forgotten so many of our roots. Each time you went on an expedition, the Junior Architect you took with you reported to the council about the nature of the jungle, but we only saw the jungle as part of the topography. We never looked at it as something to learn from. You’ve been right all along. We only evade the earthrages. We don’t really survive them. And being out there again—Ahilya, I was scared. I was so scared. But you were fearless. You were amazing. I should have told you that before.”
He closed his own hand over hers. Ahilya shifted her weight. She settled herself along his lap, sitting atop him, facing him, gazing into his eyes.
