The Fortune Teller(38)

Semele didn’t feel comfortable sharing that part of the story. But if she couldn’t tell Cabe, who could she tell? If her father were still alive she would have taken the first train to New Haven and shown him the manuscript. He would have known what to do.

“That’s why I called,” she confessed. “I was scared to go home. I didn’t want him to know where I lived.”

“Jesus, Sem, you should have told me.”

“I’m telling you now.” They stared at each other. “What do I do?” she asked. Her fear was threatening to overwhelm her again.

Cabe rubbed his chin, looking equally worried. “Well, for starters, if some guy is following you, you’re staying here tonight. We’ll walk over to your place in the morning and check things out.”

Semele felt her body droop with relief. Tomorrow was Saturday. Soon it would be Monday and she’d be back at work prepping for Beijing. Suddenly putting six thousand miles between her and a stalker didn’t seem like such a bad call.

They went back to eating in silence. “You know, maybe you shouldn’t read any more of it,” Cabe said.

Semele didn’t answer right away. If Ionna was predicting the future, did she really want to know the rest?

A strange sense of inevitability took hold of her. Yes. Yes, she did.





Message from VS—

The missing pages?

Message to VS—

Still searching.

From VS—

Find them.

Anything else u r not handling?

Message to VS—

Manuscript being translated this week.

From VS—

Do not let that happen.





The Hermit

The next morning Cabe and Semele strolled to her place with coffees and pastries from a nearby café in hand. As they walked, Semele watched all the pedestrians around her, on alert for the man at the library.

She looked over at Cabe. “Do you think a person can predict the future?”

Cabe considered the question. “Well, it seems impossible when you grant that reality is just a complex web of particles colliding with each other all the time.”

Semele snorted. “It was a yes-or-no question.”

“Then no. Life is based on the uncertainty principle. If we can’t even measure a particle’s velocity and position at the same time, how can we know where anything will be in the future?”

“Let’s pretend I haven’t seen every Star Trek episode like you. What about people who have premonitions that come true? How do you explain that?”

Cabe hesitated. “Okay. There are at least ten dimensions that we know of so far. Maybe psychics—I’m talking real ones—if they exist, have the ability to see an interdimensional spectrum of space-time that we can’t access.”

“Interdimensional space-time?” That didn’t help.

“The thing that’s always bothered me about the idea of seeing the future is that it negates free will. If the future is already set, what’s all this?” He motioned to the street. “Was it set in stone that I was going to eat this blueberry scone for breakfast, or could I have gotten a chocolate croissant?” He took a bite of the scone from the bag he was carrying. “Can we change the future, or does it unfold by cosmic design?”

“Quit spitting crumbs on me,” she said. “Those are all good questions. I don’t disagree, but then how do you explain the manuscript?”

For a second he looked stumped. “Is it really a prophecy?”

“Cabe, she knew about a city that hadn’t been created yet.”

The more Semele thought about it, the more mystified she became. Semele knew the history of Gundeshapur. The city had been a pivotal force in the ancient world and flourished for hundreds of years. When Justinian all but closed Plato’s academy in Athens, the Greek philosophers moved to Gundeshapur. So did the Nestorian Assyrians, when they were seeking refuge from religious persecution in the Byzantine Empire.

After the fall of the Roman Empire, so many of antiquity’s greatest works were lost. It was only because of cities like Gundeshapur that they survived at all. The Persians and their Arab inheritors studied Euclid, Pythagoras, Aristotle, Plato, and countless others before those writings found their way back to the West centuries later, heralding the dawn of the Renaissance. Semele had studied this path of knowledge; one only had to track the great libraries of the ancient world to do so. When one library perished, another was born, and the river of knowledge rushed to the new source. Her father had taught her that.

“I’ll give you a copy of the translation when I’m done.” She hooked her arm in Cabe’s and gave it a squeeze, suddenly not feeling so alone. “I’m going to need your help on this.”

“Abso-freaking-lutely.” He squeezed back.

*

When they arrived at Semele’s apartment, Cabe made a big show of looking around. First he threatened the closet before whipping the door open, shouting, “I’ve got Mace!” Then he addressed the shower curtain and the space under the bed too, trying to lighten the mood.

“All clear.”

“Thank you. That was amazing,” Semele said, teasing him.

“Seriously, you get scared, call me and I’ll come right over. And if you see that guy again—police.” He gave her a pointed look. “You really should tell Bren.”