The Colossus by Ranjini Iyer Page B

was anything in it related to Papa’s research. What a long, long shot , she thought wearily.
    Julian picked up the diary and stared at the first page with the embossment of the seal. “Do you mind?” he asked. Max shook her head. He read the verse written below the embossment.
    “You know Sanskrit?” Max asked. Was there no end to his talents?
    “Enough to be dangerous,” he said in a distracted voice. “I studied Sanskrit for a year when I was considering majoring in South Asian history. A million years ago.” He reread the verse. “My Sanskrit is rusty but—”
    “Yes?” Max said eagerly.
    “There is something familiar about this particular verse. Kalosmi meaning “I am time.” That reminds me of something. I think this verse is from the Gita.” He drummed on his temples with his fingertips as he tried to recall the reference.
    Max hadn’t quite gotten to this verse yet and even if she had, all she did when she opened the Gita was choose a random page, pick a verse, read its translation, and imbibe some strength from it.
    “Never mind,” he said with a sigh. “So the story here has to do with the seal?” His curiosity quickly seemed to turn to discomposure. “Or am I asking too many questions?”
    “I am on a quest, I suppose,” Max said in a more dramatic voice than she had intended, and at once regretted her colorful choice of words.
    Julian remained unfazed. “What kind of quest? I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.” But he didn’t mean it, Max could see. His eyes weregleaming, his lips pursed in anticipation. If he needed strangers to bring excitement into his life, perhaps he needed to get out more. She should know. The sight of fragrant chives and fresh-picked tomatoes at the farmer’s market were enough to make her dizzy with excitement. Kim would turn to her, aghast, at such times. “Don’t stay in yet another Friday night planning menus and getting high sniffing cilantro and mint,” Kim would say. “It isn’t healthy. Come have a martini with me.”
    “I must go,” Max said. “Once I read this diary, I might have more questions. May I come to you then?”
    Julian nodded. On his face was an expression so kind, so very full of concern that Max blurted, “Or would you like to read it with me? It’s disjointed since Opa tore a lot of it out. But it might be interesting.”
    Julian’s eyes grew animated. “Sure,” he said.
    Max felt an ache in her chest. Was he being kind? Or was he truly interested? She looked around and let out a nervous cough.
    “Would you like some coffee?” He leaned forward.
    “Please.” Max stared into his eyes. There were flecks of dark brown in his greenish hazel eyes. Or were they flecks of a green so dark that—
    Silly Max, what are you doing? You’re not a teenager, so stop acting like one , she scolded herself.
    “Is there something—” Julian vigorously wiped the end of his nose. “On my nose? You keep staring at it. So where were we? Ah, coffee. I have a fresh pot here somewhere.” He looked around and found his coffee machine. “It keeps moving.” He poured out two cups and offered her cream and sugar.
    He dragged an enormous chair close to his own and invited her to sit. He spent a few minutes clearing his desk and sat down beside her. They looked at each other for a second. Their noses were almost touching. Their chairs were too close. The room was too small. Max felt like she might swoon, overcome by the romantic intensity of the moment. She tried not to look too deep into his eyes.
    “The diary,” Julian said, all business-like.
    Max jerked her head away. There was an awkward pause. “Uh, I’ll paraphrase what I’ve already read,” she said. “My grandfather was head chemist at Berliner AG. Berliner was one of the fastest rising pharmaceutical companies in Germany. Their main competitor, Farbenfabriken Bayer, had risen to great heights following the release of aspirin in 1900. Um, what else…after that, Berliner and