Amman paused. “You don’t mind leaving the University, do you, Mother? You have to sneak around like a common criminal as it is.”
She didn’t reply. She could not see him well, her room dark and the hallway lights being so bright. Her son stood in shadow, and his shadow reached into the room, across the floor to fall upon her. “Where will we live, then, my son?” Avni asked. “It will take much time to find and prepare another place such as this one.”
“I have already found the place,” Amman said, “perfect for my reunion with Singh.” He paused; static hissed from his voice box as he took a breath. “A place where animals are slaughtered. Do you not appreciate the irony, Mother?”
Avni looked at the floor. There were mouse droppings on the bare hardwood near her feet. She could see them by the light of the computer screen. Filth and blood, she said to herself. My world is one of filth and blood.
“I wanted to let you know, Mother.” Amman turned. His shadow writhed on the floor, then he disappeared from her sight. She heard his footsteps as he moved down the hallway.
*A thrall to love, and the slave of a madman.* Yes, she had to admit it. Amman, her Amman, was gone. Would she ever find him again?
Avni sat up straight. She turned back to the computer, her mind alive, on fire, all of a sudden. Could it be? Had she overlooked the solution to her problem and it right there, staring her in the face? Had her prejudices blinded her to it? A madman, like her Amman, could still be brilliant. Perhaps only a madman could see such things. *Selivanov!* The cult leader whose compound she and her husband had claimed in Africa!
Avni began to type, her fingers dancing over the keyboard. Had this man, Konrad Selivanov, not sought to capture, to harness, the energy of a Human soul? He had died there, yes, but according to his notes, he had found success before his passing. He had discovered the Human soul. Soul or Mind. Was there any real difference? Did the very word, psyche, not mean both? Or either?
Avni could scarce breathe. Her heart pounded. Suppose Selivanov had indeed been successful? Could not this very process be put to her own use? *Amman, it is not too late for you!*
If the technology worked, it would be so simple to adapt and apply. Avni felt tears coming to her eyes.
My Amman, she promised in silence, I will save you! I will save you from yourself!
Avni wiped her eyes. No time for emotion. Her tears must wait. There was much work to be done.
