Raga Six (A Doctor Orient Occult Novel) (19 page)

They all burst out laughing as Orient joined Crowe at the bar.
 

"Evening, Doc," Crowe said. "Let me buy you a drink."
 

Orient accepted without reservation. Crowe’s use of his title meant that he’d heard about Project Judy at the dinner table. He ordered a brandy and braced for a series of questions. They never came.
 

Crowe was a careful man and kept the conversation close to general topics: the price of taxless drinks, the speed of the ship, a conversation with the captain, the rising prices of handicrafts in Yugoslavia. He seemed content to drink and talk quietly.
 

Orient heard what he was saying but his attention kept wandering toward the circle of women, and Pia.
 

She was the center of energy in the room.
 

Whether she was speaking or listening, her face radiated a superb enthusiasm. And he wasn’t the only one aware of it.
 

Greta’s daughter Gale was sitting next to Pia, staring up wide-eyed at her, watching every gesture she made. The other women’s reactions were more muted, but it was apparent that they all shared Gale’s admiration for Pia’s beauty and wit.
 

"She’s some girl," Crowe commented, turning his head to look at the source of Orient’s interest.
 

Orient nodded and sipped his brandy.
 

When Greta took Gale off to bed, Alice Crowe also left the group and joined her husband at the bar. The couple chatted with Orient for a few minutes, then went out for a walk on deck. When Orient looked up, he saw Pia waving to him.
 

"Raga and I have been having a disagreement, Owen," Pia said as Orient sat down next to her. "She claims that the success of the spinal transplant was due to drugs used to combat rejection."
 

"And you?"
 

Pia’s smile was mischievous. "I think it was all done with the mind."
 

Orient smiled and looked at his wrinkled palms. "I think Pia wins the bet."
 

"Not fair, Owen," Raga laughed, "Pia seduced you to her side."

 
"Easily," Orient agreed. "But no unusual drugs were given to Kane. As a matter of fact, no specific agent to bar spinal nerve rejection exists."
 

"But then, how was she able to accept such delicate tissue?" Raga protested. "You can’t let me lose so easily, Owen." The woman was a few years older than Pia, but time had served to temper the fragile lines of her face, giving it a serene strength. Her features were exquisite, perhaps even lovelier than Pia’s, but beside Pia’s vital charm, her beauty seemed inanimate.
 

"Kane’s mind was trained before the operation to accept the surgery," Orient said. "We worked with her concentration. Her mind did help the body create its own chemicals. Doctor Ferrari performed a brilliant transplant and Kane cured herself after that."
 

"Remarkable," Raga said, looking at Pia. Janice, who had been silent during the conversation, managed a sleepy smile of agreement. The girl was unusually quiet. She was attentive as always to Pia’s interests but tonight she seemed subdued and listless. Perhaps a little seasick, Orient decided.
 

"Good evening," Doctor Six rumbled. "May I join you?"
 

"Hello, Alistar," Raga patted the empty armchair beside her, "please do. You’ll be fascinated with what Doctor Orient is telling us."
 

Six’s large bulk relaxed slowly as he sat down, but he retained his erect bearing even when seated. He signaled to the steward for a drink.
 

"Please go on, Doctor," he said.
 

"Owen was telling us about his therapy," Pia said. "It’s quite advanced."
 

Six pursed his lips into a smile and cocked his head. When he looked at Pia, his sharply creased face softened, making him look like an unwieldy cherub. When he spoke, however, there was an edge of contention in his hoarse voice. "Yes, I saw it in the report. Some form of hypnosis, Doctor? Hypnopsychiatrics?"
 

Orient shook his head. "No hypnosis. It’s a technique we devised to train the mind to repair the body."
 

"Doctor Orient told us that no drugs were used in the operation," Raga said. "Nonsense," Six said, as the steward set down his brandy. "How else could you ensure acceptance of the nerve tissue Ferrari implanted?"
 

"Just by training the mind to concentrate. Direct the concentration on a physical function in order to understand it. Then use the concentration to work in harmony with the function," Orient said softly, lie was beginning to feel defensive. He looked at Pia. She was curled in her armchair, watching him.
 

"Self-hypnosis, then," Six challenged. He took a cigar from a gold mesh case.
 

"Self-hypnosis," Orient said slowly, "is a rote form. The concentration is channeled to one spot. The technique used in Project Judy attempted to enable the mind to find the malfunction in the body and instinctively program the chemistry for its repair."
 

"Of course there were serums used during the implantation process." Six snipped the tip of his cigar with a thin gold cutter. "You must admit that much."
 

"Yes," Orient said, "of course."
 

"No matter." Six dipped his cigar into his glass, then pulled it out and regarded the brandy-soaked tip thoughtfully. "The project is a success and so are you, Doctor. I suppose you’ll be getting a large grant from all this."
 

"I’m not applying for any," Orient said.
 

"Oh?" Six lit the cigar with the flame from a small gold Zippo. "I expect that Doctor Ferrari has applied for at least twenty."
 

"You know Doctor Ferrari?" Orient’s voice was even.
 

"Met him a few years ago on a university project," Six said. He smiled benignly at Pia. "A fierce fellow for publicity."
 

Orient didn’t answer. Six’s careless appraisal was accurate. It had been the whole problem during Project Judy. He was momentarily dismayed by Six’s easy dismissal of a man who had challenged all of his values.
 

"I’m relieved that not all doctors are bounty hunters," Pia said. "Do you plan further research, Owen?"
 

"Yes." As Orient spoke, the base of his brain tingled warm and he recognized the silky feel of Pia’s vibration stroking his consciousness. He smiled. "I’ve been getting some new ideas on this voyage."
 

"I hope they’re pleasant projects," Pia’s deep-set eyes watched his face.
 

"Are you joining Doctor Ferrari at the White House for the award?" Raga asked, her husky voice dissolving the sensual haze around Orient’s thoughts.
 

Orient looked at her. The small smile on Raga’s pale-pink lips was tentative and indistinct against the smooth glaze of her transparent skin. Only her eyes were clear, streaks of yellow in a marble-white face, glittering with sudden excitement.
 

He shook his head. "It was Doctor Ferrari’s project."
 

"Doctor Orient, I’m sure you’ll excuse me," Doctor Six said, beaming at Pia. "But these young ladies need their rest. And it’s closing time at the bar."
 

"I’m going to stay up and talk to Owen," Pia said. "I want to learn more about this mind-healing business."
 

Six’s scowl almost reappeared, but the big man was still smiling when he stood up. "As you wish, Pia, but I’m afraid Janice will have to retire. I think you’re looking tired today, dear."
 

Janice rose immediately. "All right," she said, almost unaware that everyone had turned to look at her. "Good night, everyone." She went to Doctor Six’s side, her legs moving woodenly.
 

"You see that we’re all under a doctor’s influence here," Raga Six said as she stood up and held out her hand to Orient. The long fingers were cold.
 

Doctor Six’s smile was gone when he bowed to Orient. "Good night, sir," he rasped. Something in his scowl gave Orient the impression that he was displeased by Raga’s remark. He wondered if Six’s careful attentions to Pia were merely professional.
 

Pia took his hand. "Do you mind, Owen?" she asked. "I find palms very revealing." Her fingers felt warm against his and the delicious haze settled over his brain once more, kneading his consciousness gently.
 

"What do you see?" Orient felt the brush of her hair on his wrist as she regarded his hand.
 

"It’s a very complicated area," she murmured. "Like a city that’s been torn down and rebuilt a hundred times." Her fingertips brushed his palm. "It could be the hand of a soldier or a sculptor." She paused for a moment. "A dreamer or a destroyer." Her voice sounded very close to his ear and the pleasure at the base of his skull was spreading down his spine.
 

Orient suspended his thought and sent a pleasure-charged vibration to Pia. When it reached her consciousness, she took a sudden breath and her hand tightened on his. She smiled and looked up, releasing his hand. "It’s the most amazing hand I’ve ever seen," she said lightly. "It staggers the imagination. I can’t see a thing."
 

"No future?"
 

"Too many futures and too many pasts all squeezed in together. And I can’t keep my mind on your hand for some reason. My concentration keeps getting tickled."
 

Orient grinned. "Perhaps it’s telepathy."
 

Pia’s chiseled features were suddenly solemn with the suppressed excitement of a child opening a Christmas present. "Is it possible, Owen?" she asked in a soft voice.
 

Orient nodded.
 

"Is that the kind of research you do?"
 

"Yes."
 

"Do you think you could teach me something of your technique?"
 

"I’ve been wanting to do exactly that," Orient said. "You’re not only receptive, but you have that delightful knack for transmitting. Where did you learn it?"
 

"Could always do it. Since I was a little girl. But not very often." Pia smiled. "But I like it. How soon can we begin?"
 

"We’ll need some time and someplace private."
 

"Just as I hoped." Pia settled back in her chair. "I think I know a place," she said, almost to herself.
 

"Where?"
 

"The cabin next to ours is empty. And it’s unlocked, I think," Pia mused, watching him. "Maybe we could go there. Tomorrow afternoon."
 

"Good," Orient said. He felt a twinge of disappointment, however. "Tomorrow, then." He wondered if his own physical urgency for Pia had magnified his expectation, or if her green eyes were glowing with amusement.
 

The next morning she was waiting for him when he came up on deck. She was dressed in dancer’s black tights under the hooded fur coat she had borrowed from Raga. When she saw Orient, she came quickly to join him.
 

"I’m all set," she announced, opening her coat. "This all right?" Her body was firm under the thin, tight-fitting fabric. "Perfect," Orient said. He tried to keep in mind that his objective was the transferral of knowledge. Not making love to Pia.
 

"Is it better to skip lunch?" Pia asked.
 

"Much better. We can start right now and work until dinner."
 

Pia led the way down the stairs to the cabin. It was at the end of a passage on the other side of the ship, next to the cabin she shared with Janice. Doctor Six and Raga had the cabin across from them, Pia explained.
 

As they moved down the passageway, Orient thought he could feel Pia becoming more wary as she passed Doctor Six’s cabin. She seemed to walk softer, didn’t speak until they were inside the cabin.
 

"Will this do?" she asked quietly, flicking the light switch.
 

The room was smaller than Orient’s cabin, but comfortably furnished. The couch was built close to the wall, leaving plenty of floor space.
 

"Great." Orient picked up an armchair and moved it next to the wall, clearing a large area on the carpet. The only other furniture was a large two-bunk bed built into the other wall. Pia threw her coat on the chair.
 

"What now, Owen?"
 

Orient felt the sexual tingle of her presence and repressed his thoughts, shrugging off the sudden desire he felt for her.
 

"Now you sit down on the floor and learn to breathe," he said.
 

Orient guided her through the basic phases of physical movement. She responded easily and they began working on controlling the breathing as she went through her exercises. Trying to pinpoint the concentration and open the fences of her mind. Her control and concentration were very good but she had a block to the suspension of her ego. Pia had intuitive talent for taking a basic emotion such as anger, compassion, fear, or sexuality and manipulating its energy. She could sense these emotions in others. She grasped the principles of leverage and control immediately but she found it difficult to send a clear thought image. She would build up her psychic momentum with confidence and then hesitate as she approached release, faltering just at the point of separation from her ego.
 

Even so, her basic control of breath and concentration made it simple work for her to receive Orient’s thought images.
 

She became completely absorbed in the technique and quite willing to experiment beyond the limits of her newly acquired concentration.
 

"Take it easy, "Orient advised finally."We have at least a week."
 

"A week," Pia leaned back against the couch. "Back to time," she said lazily. Her eyes were clear and her face composed.