Page 109 of The Surviving Sky
“Yes, Iravan-ve, but Nakshar’sConstant”—anote of frustration entered Naila’s voice—“it measures beyond the frequency of other ragas. It’s possible we feel it, but it’s not surprising that we don’thearit. Even architects don’t have the sensitivity.”
“How sure are you about this?” Ahilya asked.
“I’m positive. I don’t know if this is connected to anything we’re discussing, but every trajection an architect does, there are two ragas that emerge. One is the base raga, like the flight raga, or the landing raga, or the raga ofhealing—almostalways discernible as a melody. And the other is Nakshar’s Constant. Each architect projects this raga every time they traject, and each projection is unique.”
“Unique how?” Iravan asked.
“I—Idon’t know,” Naila said. “I can only explain it in metaphors. It’s like all the Nakshar’s Constants being projected were the color blue, but each architect’s emission was its own unique shade of the color.”
“And Nakshar’s Constant,” Dhruv asked, pushing up his glasses. “Is this new?”
“It’s as old as trajecting itself. Base ragas dissipate and die off in the act of beingproduced—they’reheard only briefly, and then too only by architects. But Nakshar’s Constant is continuous. It doesn’t die.”
“Maybe Nakshar’s Constant is making trajection harder,” Dhruv said.
“You’re saying,” Ahilya murmured, “thattrajectionis the cause for the difficulty with trajection. That embedded within trajection is its own demise?”
“A dangerous theory,” Iravan said softly.
“But a good one,” Dhruv argued. “If Nakshar’s Constant were somehow contributing to the building pressures of consciousness, it would explain why the earthrages have been becoming longer. It’s trajection itself that could be causing the pressures on our planet to build.”
“Another reason,” Iravan said, “for sungineers to do their part and create a battery so we’re no longer dependent on trajection.”
“As I recall,” Dhruv said, his eyes narrowing, “you destroyed my best efforts at doing just that.”
“AsIrecall,” Iravan said evenly, “your best efforts endangered the ashram.”
The two men stared at each other across the table.
Naila’s head swiveled from one to another. Ahilya expected Dhruv to break the gaze first, but it was Iravan who looked away, shaking his head wearily. He stood up. Dhruv’s lips trembled in a clear desire to say something more, but Iravan spoke first.
“There are too many open questions,” he said. “What is this mysterious raga, Nakshar’s Constant? What is the block down in the jungle? How is all this making earthrages longer? We have ourleads—let’swork through them.”
The rest of them stood up. Naila gave a hasty bow to Iravan and, surprisingly, one to Ahilya, then ran out through the splitting wall. Dhruv muttered something about returning to the lab to give Kiana a report.
Ahilya and Iravan were suddenly alone. She didn’t dare move, not wanting to bring this to Iravan’s attention. He stared unseeingly in front of him, his fists resting on the table, but with the others gone, her breathing became faster. She noticed, abruptly, the blinking of her solarnote: the divorce papers, unread, unseen.
“You didn’t sign them,” Iravan said quietly, reading her as only he could.
“No,” she whispered.
He turned to her then, his eyes glinting, whether in passion or anger, she wasn’t sure. He closed the gap between them, a handbreadth away, careful not to touch her.
“You’ve changed your mind? About us?”
“Ijust…Iravan.” Ahilya pressed a hand to her forehead.How could any of us tell you this? What would you understand?The guilt grew in her, but she pushed against it, unsure of its fairness. “What you told me in the sanctum, if I’d known before, if you’dshared—”Ahilya looked up. “I understand why you couldn’t, Ido. But we make so many mistakes. We get soangry…”
“Anger is honest, at least,” he said, his eyes glittering.
“I’m still furious.”
“As am I.”
Ahilya swallowed. “But I still care, Iravan. I care so much.”
Iravan was unmoving for a long, interminable moment. His jaw clenched and unclenched. She watched him; perhaps she shouldn’t have said anything. Perhaps that time was long gone.
“Rages, Ahilya,” he finally breathed. “I care too. It’s you. It’sus. Nothing can change that.”
