Nine Perfect Strangers - Liane Moriarty Page 0,125

her cheeks and quizzically angled eyebrows. She seemed to be saying to Zoe, “Uh, hello?”

Zoe turned it around and held it upside down.

“It’s a Russian doll,” said her mother.

“Oh, right.” Zoe twisted the top and bottom halves of the doll in opposite directions to reveal the smaller doll inside.

She handed the halves to her mother, and opened the next doll.

Within moments there was a row of five dolls of increasingly smaller sizes on the floor between them.

“Wait, is that the last one?” said Carmel. “It’s empty. Normally there is a tiny final doll that you can’t open.”

“No message?” said Frances. “I thought the security code would be inside the last one!”

“So what the hell does that mean then?” said Ben.

“I don’t know.” Zoe tried to suppress a yawn. She was all at once exhausted. She longed for her own bed, for her phone, for pizza, for all this to be over.

“Okay, this is really starting to piss me off now,” said Lars.

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Masha

Masha saw Yao’s smile of relief fade from his face as he watched the screen.

“But wait, why isn’t the code in the doll?” He turned to Masha. “The plan was to put the security code in the doll!”

Masha lifted up the last tiny doll from where it sat on her keyboard and held it between her fingertips. “Yes, you’re right, that was the original plan.”

“So … but why isn’t it there?” Yao’s eyebrows were drawn together just like those of the doll.

“I had an epiphany,” said Masha. “While I was meditating. Suddenly I knew what needed to be done in order for them to achieve true transformation after their psychedelic experiences. This—what is happening to these nine people right now—is quite literally a koan. It is a koan in practice.” He must surely see the brilliance of it.

Yao stared at her without comprehension.

“A koan is a paradox that leads to enlightenment!” said Masha. “A koan demonstrates the inadequacy of their logical thinking!”

“I know what a koan is,” said Yao slowly.

“Once they surrender and accept that there is no solution, well then, they will be free. That is the central paradox of this koan,” said Masha. “The solution is no solution.”

“The solution is no solution,” repeated Yao.

“Exactly. Do you remember this koan? A master who lived as a hermit on a mountain was asked by a man, ‘What is the way?’ and the master said, ‘What a fine mountain this is.’ The man felt frustrated. He said, ‘I am not asking you about the mountain, but about the way!’ The master said, ‘So long as you cannot go beyond the mountain, my son, you cannot reach the way.’”

“So in this case the mountain is … the security door?”

“Take detailed notes,” said Masha impatiently. She pointed at the screen and at his notepad. “Don’t forget. This is very important for the book we will write.”

“They’ve been in there for too long,” said Yao. “They’re hungry and tired. They are going to lose their minds.”

“Exactly,” said Masha. She herself had not eaten now for more days than she could remember and she had not slept since the night before the therapy sessions. She touched Yao lightly in the center of his chest with her finger. She knew the power of her touch on him. She had not yet fully exploited that power but she would if necessary. “Exactly. They must lose their minds! You know this. The self is an illusion. The self does not exist.”

“Sure, okay,” said Yao. “But, Masha—”

“They must surrender,” said Masha.

“I think they’re going to report us to the police,” said Yao.

Masha laughed. “Remember the Rumi quote, Yao. Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing there is a field. I’ll meet you there. Isn’t that beautiful?”

“I don’t think the justice system is interested in fields,” said Yao.

“We can’t give up on them, Yao.” Masha gestured at the screen. “They have all come so far.”

“So how long are you planning on keeping them locked up?” Yao’s voice sounded thin and strained, as if he’d become an old man.

“That’s not the right question,” said Masha tenderly, her eyes on the computer monitor, as some of the guests gathered around the door to the studio. They were taking it in turns to punch in different combinations of numbers. Lars punched the door with his fist like a spoiled child.

“I think I should let them out now,” said Yao.

“They must open that door themselves,” she said.

“They can’t,” said Yao.

“They can,” said Masha.

She thought about the sunny Australian lives these people had been