But Spence, in an effort of pure, selfless compassion, had tried.

They wrapped the body with the governor's flag which they found rolled into the howdah and carried it a few meters into the trees beside the road. They laid it in a hollow beneath a tree and with their hands covered it with rain-damp earth.

"Father," said Adjani as they stood over the grave, "receive one of your own."

They climbed silently back onto the elephant once more and rode on into Siliguri.

16

… EVERY TIME AUGUST ZANDERSON looked at his daughter he saw the image of his insane wife. Ari had grown by degrees more listless and confused as the days passed and she continued to follow Hocking to their secret rendezvous. Each time she returned just a little more forgetful, a little more vague, a little less Ari.

She did not eat well and had grown pale and hollowcheeked. She now slept a great deal, and even when awake seemed lost to the material world. It was as if the young woman was turning into a ghost before his eyes.

He had argued in vain for her to stop meeting Hocking, but he had no control over her. Every time Hocking came she was ready and waiting for him, though he came at odd times of the day and night.

Zanderson had threatened Hocking-also in vain-and had offered himself in his daughter's place. This had brought nothing but mocking laughter and derision. But seeing his daughter wither before his eyes made him determined not to let her go without a fight. He planned to confront Hocking next time he came. He had broken a chair leg and hidden it close to hand in case his point needed driving home with extra persuasion.

Now, as Ari slept like one of night's children, he paced before the door waiting for the summons he knew would come in time. When he heard the rattle of the bolt in the lock of the huge heavy wooden door, Zanderson squared his shoulders and took his place just inside the entrance.

Hocking swept into the room and at first did not see that his way was barred by the form of the director. But their eyes met and flocking seemed taken aback somewhat, though he recovered instantly, saying, "Get out of my way. Get back."

"Ari's staying here, Hocking. Leave her alone."

"Get away, you fool! I'm warning you."

"And I'm telling you it's over. You're not taking her away from here any more. I won't let you."

Hocking's features sharpened at the challenge. "What will you do, Director? How will you stop me?"

"Don't force me to defend myself. I will." Zanderson's voice rose with anger. "I'm warning you. Get out of here and leave her alone."

"Stay out of this. You don't know what you're doing. I'm only trying to help you."

"Help me? Ha! Look at her!" Zanderson waved his hand wildly toward Ari's form. "She's been sleeping all day! She's,exhausted. If this keeps up you'll kill her!"

Hocking glared at the man before him. His hand flattened on.he tray of the pneumochair. "I'm telling you for the last time to yet out of my way."

The director stepped slowly aside. Hocking moved forward to pass him and quick as a flash Zanderson's hand snaked out and matched up the club. He swung it full force at Hocking's skull.

The move was not fast enough. Hocking's finger twitched on his knurled tray at the same instant and the improvised club bounced in the air a bare centimeter from his head and fell away.

Stunned amazement blossomed on the director's face as he watched his well-aimed blow go awry. Hocking's eyes narrowed and his lips drew back in a snarl of rage. "How dare you assault me!" His voice crackled over the chair's audio system.

Zanderson, his determination evaporating, raised his weapon once more and brought it down. He felt the chair leg meet a resistant force which deflected it from its target. At the same moment he felt his fingers tingle and his hand grow numb. The club grew heavy and fell from his hand. The next thing the director knew he was on his knees, his hands clamped over his ears as a high-frequency sound burst through his brain. The sound drained all strength from his body and he toppled heavily to the floor.

"I would have expected better of you, Director. Imbecile! I should squash you like the insect you are." Hocking moved a finger on the tray and the director's eyes screwed shut with pain, and then he rolled on his side and lay still, eyes staring vacantly at the great vaulted ceiling above.

The white ovoid chair spun in the air and Hocking glanced up. Ari stood in front of him with a gentle, almost whimsical expression on her face. Her deep blue eyes seemed soft and unfocused. She looked like a little girl daydreaming.

Hocking noticed that though she must have seen what had happened, Ari seemed not at all disturbed by her father's demise. He quickly recovered himself. "Are you ready, Ariadne?"

"Yes," she said in a voice furred with sleep. "I'm ready. Take me to the dream machine."

"You know the way. You lead this time," said Hocking. "I'll follow." …

DARJEELING WAS AS DIFFERENT from Calcutta as sea from sewer. Fresh, clean, sparkling with quickened vitality, it perched on a steep crown of hill at an elevation that made the visitor light-headed. It was so far from the India Spence had thus far experienced that it might have been on another planet.

Surrounded by imperial mountains-twin-peaked Kanchenjunga the foremost of these kings-and purified by the thin, sundrenched air, Darjeeling glimmered like a rare gem in Spence's eye. A vast shell of blazing blue sky spread over all like a silk canopy, and everywhere he looked tiny blue birds flitted from rooftop to street to rooftop.

The people of Darjeeling-Nepalese, Tibetans, Bhutias, Lepchas, and others of obscure origin-seemed sturdy and healthy and glowing with friendliness. Spence found the city nearly as intoxicating as the altitude, especially after the long string of lowland towns indistinguishable in their filth and misery.

"Darjeeling-jewel of the Himalayas!" crowed Gita. "I never hoped to see it."

They climbed the nearly vertical streets of the carefully terraced city, drawing long gapes and shouts from the colorful inhabitants, many of whom wore centuries-old tribal costumes of silk and feathers and ornamental silver jewelry. Children, seeing the elephant, scampered after them laughing and pointing. Their ascent through the lower portions of the city to the upper brought them and their unofficial procession to the seat of the government. Climbing short flights of steps and landings which seemed to go on without end, they at last came to the handsome goldendomed Raj Bhavan, the Governor's Palace.

Immaculate emerald grounds were enclosed within white brick walls sparkling in the sun with flecks of mica. Hand-pruned miniature trees lined the broad drive leading to the palace itself, a living relic of the British colonial era.

When the elephant arrived in the street before the palace, the guards at the iron gates took one look at the animal and the noisy crowd behind and ran to apprehend them with rifles lowered. They met them yammering and gesturing excitedly. Gita yammered back at them and kept pointing at the palace. After a quick consultation one of the guards ran away to fetch his captain.

While this was going on Spence looked around him as one in a daze. The mountains, so close they seemed within reach, towered up on every side so that wherever he looked he saw a new and striking vista. From this spot on Bicth Hill, the government district, the rooftops of Darjeeling slanted away in descending ranks, giving the impression that one stood on the very roof of the world. The city's busy inhabitants went purposefully about their business with rolling exuberance and toothy smiles in their broad faces.

Spence was enchanted by all he saw and was content lust to stare and drink it in.