IN THE BEGINNING," said Brian, "there was water, water for millions of years. Aquarius." Brian sat up in bed. Without the blanket his shoulders looked thin, the skin of his back pale and waxy, freckled. Frishta put her hand on the back of his neck. He grasped her hand in both of his and looked at her, his eyes burning. "And God moved upon the face of the waters. There was the next Age of Man, Aries, when man rose up out of the waters. This was Moses, the nomads tending their flocks. And sacrifice. The blood of the Ram flowed upon the face of the earth."
Frishta whimpered. She tried to pull her hand from his bruising grasp. He threw it down in disgust. Frishta said, "Sitvar would kill you if he knew you hurt me."
Brain turned from her. He assumed the Posture of the Buddha, his calves folded against his thighs, his hands resting on his knees, his fingers curled into the circle of Om. "Sitvar is a maniac." His fingers trembled. His eyes wandered in their sockets. "Then came Taurus, the age of agriculture, pastures, the fatted calf. Then Jesus, Son of God, walked upon the earth, and his sign was Pisces, the two fish like the two bars of His Cross. And out last age has been machines, technology, tools of destruction. Sagittarius. Only it is over. We live in a Time of Cups, and we must ready ourselves spiritually for the next age, the Age of Love, Gemini, Castor and Pollux. That is why I am here. I have come to know." Brain smiled pacifically.
Frishta lay still. Brain smiled Frishta said, "I'm going to get up." She did. Brian smiled aloof at the level of her knees--the mattress lay on the floor. Frishta began to wrap herself in her sari, spangled paisley, and its turns threw her into pirouettes. She began to twirl about the room and to sing high, tuneless notes.
"What are you doing?" Brian did not smile. He looked up at her with his head back and to one side as if he had been insulted. His fingers curled into fists.
"I'm going home." Frishta's words were parenthetical to her singing.
"Home? Now? To Sitvar?"
"Yes. And to Ro, My lovely Ro, My darling." Frishta redoubled her twirling, her singing.
"Ah," said Brian, mother love." His fingers resumed Om. "I am going to Glastonbury."
Frishta staggered, and sat abruptly. She pressed her hands against the floor. She smiled weakly. "Dizzy."
Brian tried again. "Glastonbury! I'm going to Glastonbury!" He leapt up and fumbled underneath the blanket for his pants.
"They've been sighting flying saucers there. And the day is auspicious for travel."