Sanskrit Cipher: A Marina Alexander Adventure

by C. M. Gleason

  One thing was sure: she wanted to find Manish again if she could. Surely he would be at the festivities.

  “Let’s go,” Varden said when he noticed her cup was empty.

  She nodded. They had things to talk about.

  Instead of returning to their room, Varden gestured to the door, and soon the two of them were far enough away from the guesthouse and partway up a small mountain so they wouldn’t be heard. He sank down onto a large gray boulder that offered a view of the village of Phyang below. People were moving en masse along the roads up to the monastery, mostly on foot, but there were a few dilapidated cars and some goat-drawn wagons. The monastery was set atop a small, gravelly hill and had outbuildings that cascaded down the incline and looked like tumbling blocks. Like all of the other buildings, it had a flat roof, and the main buildings were constructed of brick and mud that had been whitewashed.

  Inside, the building would be filled with bright colors—every inch painted and decorated with red, gold, and blue designs, intricate and bright. It would take forever to look at every detail inside the holy place, with its totem-like columns and inset ceilings that would give the Sistine Chapel and St. Peter’s in Rome competition for the most beautiful and complicated.

  Varden looked at her as she took a seat on another boulder, and she got the impression he was struggling for something to say.

  His hesitance answered the question that had been nagging her. “You were there,” she said. “This morning.”

  He nodded. “It wasn’t my intention, Marina. I’m sorry. Lev pulled me in.”

  She nodded back, more surprised than she cared to admit that he’d apologized. She’d expected him to adopt the arrogant attitude that he usually had—that it was his right to know everything going on with her because Lev had given him the responsibility to watch over her.

  But the realization that he’d been there, melded within the deepest part of her consciousness, made her feel strangely intimate with him. It was a feeling she wasn’t certain how to handle. And although it made her uncomfortable, it also settled some of her mistrust of him. Surely Lev wouldn’t allow Varden to become that intrinsically connected with either of them if he didn’t trust him, and Marina sensed that Lev could see far more and far deeply into a man’s soul than she could.

  “Did you see Snow Leopard?” she asked.

  “No.” There was quiet awe in Varden’s voice. “But I saw the bee. It…she…was magnificent. Everything was magnificent.”

  “Yes.”

  He looked at her, his gaze sharpening as if her words had penetrated after a delay. “Snow Leopard was there? Did you speak to him?”

  “He didn’t speak to me, so I’m not certain whether he is one of my spirit animals or not. Perhaps he was only there because we are here, where he lives. This is his natural habitat, as I’m sure you know. And he’s endangered. I think he is guiding me—us—for, right after I opened my eyes from seeing him, there was a Ladakhi man there.” She told Varden about Manish and how he’d seemed fixated on her Skaladeska mark.

  “He told you there was no bee? You didn’t believe him.”

  “No, and he knew I didn’t. I think he was warning me that it was dangerous.” She sighed and pulled out her mobile phone. Thanks to a satellite adaptor, she should have service up here in the mountains. She just needed to turn it on and connect, for she’d mostly kept her phone off to conserve data and battery. “I need to check in with Eli. He texted that he arrived in Delhi yesterday. I need to find out if he knows who Patty Denke spoke to about the bee when she was here.”

  Varden said nothing as she connected, and then a string of text messages downloaded to her device in a chorus of quiet dings.

  She skimmed through them, finding several from Gabe—who hadn’t been too pleased when he learned she’d taken off for Ladakh so unexpectedly three days ago.

  But Varden had convinced her that it was best to leave right away before she was stopped from traveling out of the country. And since Colin Bergstrom had threatened to keep her from doing just that the first time she met him, Marina had agreed. Fortunately, she had a go-bag at the Ann Arbor Airport—where she parked her small plane—and she’d taken to carrying her passport with her all the time. She’d learned the hard way that dropping everything for sudden travel—whether it be related to search-and-rescue missions, her work, or the Skaladeskas—had become part of her life. She and Varden had dropped the dogs off at Adele and Boris’s dog-sitter—who was also accustomed to Marina’s last-minute trips—and headed to Detroit Metro to catch a flight to Amsterdam. From there, they’d flown to Delhi. All without returning to her bungalow in Ann Arbor, where Helen, Gabe, and Colin had been waiting.

  Marina sent a quick text to Gabe to let him know she had arrived safely in Ladakh—she’d kept him basically apprised of her plans so he didn’t worry—then went on to the string of texts from Eli. Her eyes widened in disbelief as she read through them, then she looked up at Varden.

  “You won’t believe who’s in India and is also headed to Ladakh,” she said, sending a brief response to Eli letting him know they were in Phyang, which was less than an hour from Leh’s airport. When Varden responded in the negative, she replied, “Hedron.”

  He swore, his expression a mask of shock. “How? What the hell is he doing here?”

  But they both knew. It had to have something to do with the bee.

  “Eli saw him in Delhi, and they’re both flying in to Leh this morning. So far Hedron hasn’t seen Eli, but I’m not sure how he’s going to manage being on the same plane and not noticed.” Though, Marina thought, if anyone could manage it, she trusted Eli could.

  She scrolled through more texts—Eli had been busy! “There’s more… Apparently, Hedron is involved in some sort of arrangement with a bottled-water corporation for them to divert runoff from a particular glacier to be bottled exclusively by the water company. The contracts are supposed to be signed here, somewhere near Leh, today or tomorrow. He—Eli—isn’t sure about the timing.”

  Varden was frowning. “Glacier runoff… The Volvoticus bacteria was found in a particular glacier. Could that be the connection?”

  “It’s got to be.” Marina looked out over the countryside. She’d been here in Ladakh for less than twenty-four hours, but she already knew how important the runoff water from the Tazhnev Glacier was to the ecosystem and lifestyle for the Ladakhis.

  From her vantage point on this small mountain rise, she could see the Phyang Gompa—the Buddhist monastery hosting the festival—as well as the local village, which consisted of no more than a small street marketplace and a smattering of mud-brick homes dotting the rugged mountains to the south and east.

  But several miles to the north, she could see a great spill of water, frozen into a massive, thirty-foot glacial tower. The blue-white ice rose in what had become famously known as an “ice stupa,” which was a man-made reserve of water from the winter melt that came down the mountains from the glaciers.

  For millennia, the spring ice melt had created rivers and streams that fed the dry, scrubby area, and Marina knew that the flow of water—and its timing—was essential to the livelihood of all those who lived in the villages of Phyang, Hemis, Thiksey, and, indeed, everywhere else in the Ladakh region. But with climate change, what had once been regular flows marked by the seasons had changed radically over the last decades. Now, the melt was happening much faster and too early—during the winter months instead of later in the season. The rapidly melting glaciers now caused floods during the winter and drought during the summer, because the water evaporated too soon in the higher temperatures.

  To combat this dangerous change to the ecosystem, a Kashmiri engineer named Sonam Wangchuk had conceived of a way to store the water that flowed too much and too fast in the winter. He used the pressure of the water from the mountains and the force of gravity to channel the flow into a hose attached to a twenty-foot—or taller—pole. The water spilled out and down, creating a frozen tower from the i
ce melt that was situated in the shadow of the mountains—which would help shield it from the spring and summer sun. The tall, man-made glacier would slowly melt during the agricultural months and provide a more regulated water supply throughout the growing season.

  As she looked out over the terrain and contemplated the stark blue-white ice tower, standing out so starkly against the dark brown-gray of the mountains around it, Marina felt a little prickle run over her shoulders. A prickle of something…something she was missing, something important.

  Here is the sacred. The words of her grandfather echoed in her mind. It is a source of great energy and sacredness. It is one of the centers of Gaia’s life…an area that feeds Her even when She is battered and assaulted. It must be protected.

  The vibration of energy, of awareness, shuttled through her more strongly. Her palm, resting on the boulder next to her, tingled as the warmth and life of Gaia pumped through the living rock and into her skin.

  Protect us, Mariska.

  Protect Gaia. Protect the sacred.

  She looked up and found Varden watching her.

  “Now I think I understand,” she said quietly, and she felt Gaia shudder beneath her fingers.

  “It’s this place,” he said, lifting his own hand to look at it, as if he too had felt Gaia’s tremor. “It’s special. It’s…”

  “It’s sacred.” She gave a little laugh as she looked around. “Not what one would picture when they think of a sacred or beautiful place—it’s so desolate and rugged and cold.”

  “There are centers of energy in every being,” he said, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he squinted against the sun and looked out over the land. “In Gaia too. Some talk about the crossing of ley lines, energy vortexes…the Hindus call them chakras.”

  “Yes,” she said, nodding, understanding where he was headed. Then her eyes bolted wider. “I once saw a map of Earth’s chakras—Her main energy centers.” She scrambled to her feet, knocking stones and gravel in a little cascade down the side of the incline. “I’m certain there was one here, or near here…in the Himalayas. I don’t remember which one—which chakra it was, though.” She dragged the phone out of her pocket again. “I don’t know if it matters which one, but—”

  “The Seventh Chakra,” Varden said, still looking out over the land. “If I had to guess, it would be the Crown Chakra, the center of spirituality and enlightenment. Pure energy. The ultimate in universal consciousness.”

  Marina lowered her phone, the hair all over her body standing on end. “You’re right.” She looked around, and that prickling over her body became even stronger. “This is a special place. There’s a lot going on here, geographically and spiritually, I think,” she said slowly. “I’m not sure I understand all of it, but I can feel it.”

  “And our task—your task, and mine by association—is to protect it somehow.” Varden shook his head slowly, his expression projecting uncertainty.

  Her phone vibrated at that moment, and she looked down. “Eli’s on the ground in Leh. He’s coming here—it should take him less than an hour.”

  Varden nodded. “Let’s go.”

  When he reached for her hand, she allowed him to clasp it, and they went down the hill together.

  Forty-Three

  The single street of Phyang was filled with pedestrians making their way up the hill to the monastery, or gompa. Marina was surprised by the number of people who’d come for the festival.

  Several hundred by her estimation, and probably others had arrived previously.

  And a new influx of arrivals had obviously just come in on the plane in Leh, because there were buses and a few cars arriving—all of which were crammed with people.

  She found Eli, noting that he was wearing sunglasses and a battered brown linen fedora pulled down low over his forehead. Trying to blend in and remain unnoticed by Hedron—whom she hadn’t yet seen—she assumed. Eli was carrying his backpack along with a duffel bag and was, of course, wearing his Birks. But the rest of his attire was casual—a plain red tee (shockingly without an insect reference) and khaki shorts with lots of pockets.

  Eli greeted her with an affectionate hug and full-on-the-mouth kiss, then stepped back and gave her companion a curious look. “Dr. Varden. I’m not sure whether I should be glad to see you again or not.”

  “Likewise, Dr. Sanchez,” Varden replied. His eyes were also hidden by sunglasses, but the rest of his expression was bland. “Yet here we are.”

  “Yes,” Eli replied. “And I have a lot to tell you both. Too complicated by text…and besides, Helen Darrow assumes Father Dart Gun has been tracking me by my phone—that’s how he found me in Ann Arbor. Which is why I’ve had it turned off most of the time. Plus it’s damned expensive running on satellite.”

  “Same here,” Marina replied as they eased out of the throngs of people heading up the hill and into the marketplace area—which was filled with wallahs selling food, drink, and other goods to the tourists. She was still scanning the crowd. “Where’s Hedron? Did he see you?”

  “I made certain he didn’t—I sat in the back of the plane and boarded after him. Kept my head down. I’m pretty certain neither he nor Allen Schlueter—he’s the water CEO—saw me on the plane or in Leh. I don’t know where either of them are now, but I am pretty certain I know where they’re going to be.”

  “And where’s that?” Varden asked as they stopped between two vendor stalls.

  “Thiksey—a village just a little north of here. There’s a dam just outside it.”

  The wooden poles that created the vendor stalls—tree trunks that had been de-barked—were painted the same rainbow of colors and design that seemed to decorate every surface in India. Tarps made from canvas or plastic covered the tops of each stall and shuddered gently in the breeze. The early dawn chill had long worn off and Marina no longer needed her jacket, but the temperature was by no means hot.

  Their position between the two stalls kept them mostly out of sight from the tourists, although Marina noticed that Varden situated himself so that he could keep an eye on the throughway of the marketplace.

  “All right, Eli. Let’s hear it,” she said.

  Marina and Varden listened as Eli described how he’d met Allen Schlueter on the plane and then followed him and Hedron—whose appearance was obviously a shock—and booked into the same hotel. “I’m having PTSD from experiencing the traffic in Delhi,” he said dryly, then went on to explain how he’d obtained copies of the papers in Schlueter’s briefcase.

  “Based on the itinerary, the contracts, and some other notes in there, I think I’ve figured out what’s going on,” he said. “They’re going to execute these contracts that give Allen’s company—EcoDraft; remind me never to buy another bottle of water from them again even if I’m here and it’s the only kind available—the exclusive rights to divert and bottle the water that’s coming from the Tazhnev Glacier. Apparently, this whole deal is confidential and proprietary and no one knows about this arrangement except the government official—I’m not sure if he’s a mayor or some other regional leader or what—who’s signing it here.”

  Marina shook her head. “So they’re going to steal the water these people here need to live? Their livelihoods and livestock and the environment? Why would Hedron do this?”

  “I think we’ve already seen Hedron’s lack of conscience when it comes to Gaia and human life,” said Varden. “More to the point, why would any government official in Ladakh agree to it? It would destroy the ecosystem here.”

  “Absolutely,” replied Eli. “That’s why it’s all hush-hush—”

  “But I don’t even see how that could happen,” Marina said. “Surely once everyone realizes this company has been diverting the water—and how the hell would they do it in secret anyway?—there’s going to be a big problem.”

  Eli nodded. “Exactly the thoughts that I slept on last night and mulled during the ride to the airport in Delhi—I figured out that closing my eyes made it a little less h
arrowing. But the nonstop horn tooting was pretty intense. Anyway, the best I can come up with is this, and feel free to poke holes: we’re basically in the middle of nowhere here. There’s probably numerous passages in or through the mountains, and the rivers and streams from the glaciers are long and winding…no one can monitor all of them, all the time.

  “Maybe they’re just going to build this water diversion system—or maybe they already have done—far enough upstream or in some hidden location that it wouldn’t be easily found or accessed. I mean, they just need a big pipe, and it uses the gravity from the mountains like when they made the ice stupas, right? And so the people who live here would just write it all off to climate change and the glaciers melting more quickly, so the water flow is interrupted?” He shook his head. “I know this theory barely holds water—ha!—and I’m not sure how all the glacier melt water flow works, but it’s the only explanation I can come up with. The Chinese are already doing something of the same nature—not secretly so much as just doing it by force: diverting water on land they don’t own here in these mountains. It’s a big problem.”

  “Maybe they’ll try to blame it on the Chinese or the Pakistanis,” Marina said. “I read somewhere that the Chinese—not sure if it’s government or industry—are building dams in an effort to contain and divert some of the water running down from the mountains—”

  “There’s a dam,” Varden said suddenly. “We drove past it—did you see it, Marina?”

  She remembered it now. “Yes. It was just to the northeast of Leh. But I don’t…” A sudden rush of prickling energy blasted over her. “Wait. Wait a minute…there was a news report not very long ago…” The vibration of energy was growing stronger, lifting the hair all over her body. She closed her eyes, appreciating that neither Eli nor Varden interrupted or distracted her as she tried to discern what her subconscious was telling her.

  When she opened her eyes, she felt clarity. “There was a news report about a dam breaking in Uttarakhand—somewhere in the Himalayas, so it has to be in this general region. The dam was broken when a large piece of glacier detached and flowed downriver, causing a huge flood and crashing into the dam. The flood covered an entire village, destroying it and trapping people inside tunnels. It was a disaster of broad proportions, and it will be a long time—years, because of its remote location—before the area is cleaned up and restored.”