“I’m glad to say the patient feels fine,” Santana said. Santana was five years Cal’s senior. Like Cal, she was dressed in a jogging outfit, but unlike Cal’s, the outfit was stylish, with black, shiny, skintight pants and an equally tight, black short-sleeved shirt made of synthetic fabric. Her dark, thick hair was in a ponytail pinned up against the back of her head.

“Terrific!” Cal said, and meant it. “You are going to work, I presume?” he asked Veena.

“Of course,” Veena said. The voice reflected the mildly drugged feeling she was experiencing.

“We’ve been talking about what happened last night,” Santana said forthrightly.

“Terrific,” Cal repeated, but without the same enthusiasm. He couldn’t help but feel reluctant discussing an issue he’d be uncomfortable talking about if he’d been the one involved.

“She has assured me that she will not try it again.”

“That’s nice,” Cal responded, while thinking She’d damn well better not.

“She said she did it because she felt the gods would look kindly on her: sorta a life for a life. But now, because the gods saved her, she feels they want her to stay alive. In actuality, she believes the whole episode is her karma.”

Like hell they saved her, Cal thought but didn’t vocalize. In its place, he said, “I couldn’t be happier, because we certainly need her.” Cal studied Veena’s face and wondered if she’d told Santana about the aggressive lovemaking episode or about the patient’s disturbing agonal death throes, but her face appeared as inscrutably serene as usual. When Cal had spoken with the other principals the night before after returning from the ER, he hadn’t mentioned it either—exactly why, he didn’t know. His best guess was that he was embarrassed at having been so clearly taken advantage of by Veena’s sexual aggression. Cal was accustomed to manipulating women, not vice versa. In regard to the kind of death the succinylcholine had apparently caused, which was far different from the peaceful paralysis that had been described to him and he’d relayed to the others, he was afraid any discussion might dampen general enthusiasm for the scheme.

Cal had then excused himself and left, despite being mildly concerned the women might take the opportunity to discuss him. But he didn’t worry about it for long. Exiting the bungalow and running out through the front gate, he began his jog. Chanakyapuri was one of the few areas of the city other than the coastal ridge reserved forest where running was enjoyable. Unfortunately, he was later than usual, and the traffic was already heavy and increasing with every passing minute. The dust and pollution were already almost to midday levels. In response, he exited the main road in favor of backstreets. There the air was better, but not far from the clogged main road he ran into a large group of monkeys, which always scared him. Delhi monkeys were remarkably bold, at least from Cal’s experience. It wasn’t that he thought they would attack him en masse, but more because he worried they carried some exotic diseases that he might catch, especially if one bit him. That morning, as if sensing this unease, the animals chased after him, baring their yellow teeth, chattering, and screeching as if they were crazed.