Different Senses

by Ann Somerville

  A shout, a flare of light, and then the most horrible pain across my lower back, throwing me to the ground. I knew what it was because I’d been shot before. “I’m down,” I gasped to Shardul over the communicator link. “Get out of here.”

  No response, and the shouting was closer. I lay on my front, hands spread out in surrender as the guards came closer. Oh well. I wasn’t much of a private detective anyway.

  Being surrounded by angry people only added to the pain and humiliation of being captured. They carried me gracelessly to the house, where Gagan came running towards me, grabbed my hair, and screamed obscenities at me. I pretended I was too injured to answer. I gained a little satisfaction from having thwarted him. I hoped we’d thwarted him.

  Rough and ready first aid from the security guards, then I was hauled into the house to be confronted by Kly himself, wearing a plush crimson robe. Induma in a silky white gown, nervous and silent, stood behind him. Gagan hovered like a malevolent vulture, waiting to rip my head off.

  Kly shook his head at me. “Javen, Javen. I’m very disappointed. What will your father say?”

  “Same thing, I guess. You had something you know you didn’t own.”

  “It was only borrowed. I was going to give it back.”

  “Oh yeah. Was he?” I pointed to Gagan who was practically purple with rage.

  “I ask the questions. Now you can tell me where it is, and this can be sorted out discreetly, or I can call the police. One way or another, I will have it back. I have to have it back.”

  “Sorry, no dice. Call the cops. Soon, unless you want me to bleed all over your nice chairs.”

  Gagan stepped up to slap me around a bit, but Kly called him off. “No. There’s no point. Sri Ythen is quite determined, I see that. Call the police. I think the governor will be rather unhappy with your choice, Javen.”

  “Won’t be the first time.”

  While Gagan calling the cops temporarily diverted Kly’s attention, I glanced at Induma. She gave me the tiniest nod. So Shardul had made it. Now who’d retrieve me?

  Cops also make the worst suspects because we know all the tricks. When two patrol officers arrived, I made their lives unpleasant by refusing to give any more but my name and address. They’d heard of me, and they’d certainly heard of my father. They were caught between potentially upsetting the most important politician in this region, and the most important man in this city. I felt sorry for them, but the only play I had was to delay things as much as possible.

  Finally the cops agreed I needed medical attention, and placed me under arrest on suspicion of breaking and entering with intent to steal—although not with actual theft since Kly declined to name any item that had been stolen—before taking me to the hospital to have my injury cared for. I insisted on my lawyer, one Shardul Hema Rishabh, being called. If I had to spend the night in pain and under arrest, no bloody way was Shardul getting any beauty sleep.

  The hospital doctor did her best, but every position hurt like hell, and I didn’t want painkillers in case they made me loose-lipped. She gave me drugs to ward off infection, told me to keep off my feet for a few days, and then the officers took me down to the station to be charged. By then it was nearly dawn. I was exhausted, in a lot of pain, worried, and wondering where my supposed lawyer was. I’d been in better shape. And I still had to break the bad news to Yashi and my father.

  I refused to make a statement without my lawyer, and seeing my ropey state, the station staff wisely decided to let me sleep it off before pursuing it. They put me in a holding cell, which was bare of anything but what I needed, which was a place to rest on my front. I fell asleep before they’d locked the door behind me.

  The door lock woke me up, not something I welcomed since I’d stiffened up badly. I groaned as I turned my head to see who had intruded. Shardul. “About time,” I muttered.

  “Come on. Time to go home.”

  “Shardul, I’ve been arrested.”

  “Yes, and I’ve arranged bail. So shift your chuma arse.”

  He helped me stand, which hurt a lot more than I expected. “I got shot in my chuma arse, thank you.”

  “Yes, you did. How very stupid of you.” But his eyes were friendly and I even detected some slight sympathy under his habitual irritation.

  He handled the tiresome business of my belongings being returned for me, and helped me sign the release forms. I was told to report back to the station the same day next week, and then I was free. For now.

  “How did you swing it?”

  “Later. We’ll talk by phone, but for now, you need to be in the bosom of your family, as indeed do I.”

  “Wait,” I said, as he dragged me toward his auto. “The thing?”

  “Safe and beyond the clutches of friend Gagan, who is himself not beyond being placed in custody.”

  I had to lie across the back seat, which amused Shardul no end. “It bloody hurts,” I bitched.

  “Yes. You shouldn’t have separated from me.”

  “They were about to find you.”

  “Not for certain. But...I thank you, Javen Ythen. The debt is cleared.”

  “Damn well hope so,” I muttered.

  We arrived in time for breakfast. He helped me into the house, to the alarm of my brother and his wife, and the intense curiosity of the twins. “Injured in the line of duty,” Shardul gravely assured Yashi. “The doctor gave me these painkillers for him. Make sure he takes them, and rests. The wound needs to be dressed twice a day. You’ll find dressings in that packet too.”

  “Thank you, er...Sri...?”

  “Rishabh,” he said. “I’m his lawyer.”

  “What?”

  I moaned pathetically. “Yashi, please?”

  Shardul made a diplomatic exit after handing me to Yashi, and then my highly annoyed and worried brother took me to my room and put me to bed. “What in the name of reason have you done to yourself?”

  “Upset someone with a gun,” I said, not lying at all. “The police are dealing with it.”

  Tara rushed in, clutching Shardul’s packet to her chest. “Yashi? Javen, you poor thing! You look awful.”

  “I feel awful,” I said, shamelessly playing to her sympathy to avoid questions. “Could I have those pills? And some water?”

  The two of them had to get themselves to work, and the twins to childcare, so after bustling about and making me comfortable, extracting a promise that I’d call if I needed anything, they headed off. All I wanted was sleep, since the pills took the edge off the pain.

  I woke in the mid-afternoon, still sore but a lot more clear-headed. A trip to the bathroom was tiresome in the extreme, but while I was up, I drank, ate and took another pill. I also found my phone and my reader to take back to bed with me. I called Shardul and asked him to call me back before Tara came home from school, which he did in two minutes.

  “Feeling better?”

  “A little. Where did you get those drugs?”

  “From a cousin.”

  I rolled my eyes. “So what gives on the bail? I wasn’t cooperating. No way should they have let me loose.”

  “Well, the burglary charge is going to be rather hard to prove, since you were headed away from the house, nothing was found in your possession, you had no house breaking tools, and Kly won’t say what was stolen. He says you had a confederate, but how can he prove it? But he can push the angle that you were on the estate with the intent of planning a crime. If he can’t prove that, then all they’ve got is trespass, though that’s damaging enough for your career since your investigator’s licence would be revoked. That’s how I convinced them to release you on bail. With another complainant, they probably wouldn’t charge you at all, given your family’s position. The politics are certainly interesting.”

  My father would go nuts. “What’s this costing me?”

  “A hundred an hour, of course. Meanwhile the police have had an anonymous tip off that two recent thefts, one involving violence, may be connected to a Gagan War
l who has, it seems, form. Lots of form. Burglary, fraud, receiving stolen goods and assault. He’s on parole for that right now. Induma tells me he’s disappeared from the estate. Kly is still after your blood.”

  “Spectacular.”

  “Don’t worry about that. You’re paying me to deal with it.”

  He really enjoyed pointing that out. “What about Induma? Does Kly suspect her?”

  “No, and with Gagan disappearing, the suspicion falls on him. Kly’s resigned to not being able to complete the ceremony. She says he now wants to live his remaining time in peace.”

  “While being after my blood.”

  “That’s a point of honour. I said, don’t worry about it. I understand it will take you some time to recover.”

  “Yeah. Would you like to come visit me while I’m all hurt and needy?”

  He sniffed in disgust. “Absolutely not. I’ll take you to your bail appointment next week, and then we can talk if you’re fit. Until then, say nothing to anyone. Direct any questions to me. But there won’t be any.”

  I ended the call, and wondered why I trusted the man. But he could have left me hanging, just as I could have named him as an accomplice. Not so much “honour among thieves” as “the enemy of my enemy is my friend”, maybe.

  Being largely immobile and at the mercy of curious and impatient relatives wasn’t much fun. Fortunately no whisper of my arrest had yet reached the media or my father, though Yashi suspected something was up. I cited client confidentiality until I was sick of saying it, but he didn’t believe me. Didn’t blame him, since I was lying like a wretched beggar.

  By the time Shardul came to collect me for my appointment at the station, I could walk with a stick and sit with the humiliating assistance of an inflated cushion. “Wipe that smirk off your face, you bastard,” I said to him. “This is an honourable wound.”

  “Did I say otherwise? Here, let me help you,” he said, assisting me as if I was a centenarian.

  “I should shoot you in the butt, see how much fun that is.”

  “Sadly your plans for my butt have to wait. We’re going to visit my aunt over at Rupa’s house.”

  “Police station first.”

  “Oh, they dropped the charges days ago. Didn’t I tell you?”

  “No, you did not,” I said, giving him my best glare. “You’re a piece of work, Shardul.”

  “Yes, I am. Now, are you comfortable?”

  I growled at him, which he took as assent, and drove off.

  I realised belatedly that the meeting at Rupa’s house was arranged because her office was on the ground floor, whereas I’d have to climb stairs at Roshni-ji’s. I could have. But it wouldn’t have been something I’d enjoy.

  “Forgive me for not kneeling, Roshni-ji,” I said as Shardul led me into Rupa’s office.

  “Never mind, Javen. Are you healed?”

  “Not completely. The, uh, position is difficult.”

  Rupa hid a grin behind her hand. Shardul didn’t bother hiding anything. “A brave feat,” Roshni-ji said, “for which we are very grateful. Please sit, if you can.”

  Shardul, still smirking, helped me to a comfortable chair and onto the cushion. It hurt, but there wasn’t much I could do about it. “So...who wants to start? Shardul, has Kly given up on me?”

  “Certainly, thanks to my dear aunt.”

  I turned to her for explanation. “I visited Sri Kly because I felt it my duty to try and undo the damage done by that dreadful man. He was very nice to me, very respectful, and when I explained exactly how great a harm he had done by trying to keep the gatha from us, he was most sorrowful. All he wants to do is die with his soul cleansed, and to be reborn. I told him that he needed to make amends for his sins, apologise to those he’d harmed, and repair the hurt he’d caused. He began by calling the police and asking them to drop the case against you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, Javen, but it was little enough effort.”

  “She’s being modest,” Shardul said, grinning. “She also persuaded him to cut Gagan out of the will, increase the settlement for Induma and other members of his household—”

  “And leave his house and estate to a trust run entirely by the udawathei. The incarnation’s burial site will be under our control again,” Rupa said, her excitement bubbling over. “He’s also returning all the artefacts he collected to us and will do what he can before he dies to persuade other collectors to do so, at least after their death.”

  “Wow.” I blinked at them all. “Roshni-ji, what did you have to threaten to make him do all that?”

  “Nothing. I simply showed him the path to absolution, and a peaceful death. Induma will be with him during these last days and weeks, acting as his spiritual guide. Even making these decisions left him much happier. To shed possessions, to settle debts, to make reparations, is a very healing thing. I don’t threaten people, Javen.”

  I shook my head in amazement. “Wait, there’s more,” Shardul said. “Rupa’s finished her research. I thought you’d like to pick it up.”

  I’d spent most of the time lying in bed reading books on the history of Medele, and trying and failing to make some progress with a simple language instruction course. I was desperate to talk to a person about it. “Can I look at it here?”

  Rupa brought the mass of papers over, and Shardul set a little table before me. I sensed the three of them shared some huge joke at my expense, and I wondered what nasty surprise her research had turned up.

  “Here’s the revised family tree. I found out more about Udy. He became locally famous as a Kelon convert to udawa, very pious, spending his declining years reading the Seeker’s teachings and the scholars’ glosses, and writing a story of his life and that of his family. I believe a copy of that record exists and I am trying to locate it for you.”

  “That would be...hey, he had more children.”

  “Yes. A surprise at his age, but his third wife was younger, and fertile.”

  The family record looked like a mushroom. “Four kids. I wonder what the first two daughters thought about that.”

  “If we locate that record, you might find out. Trace this line down, Javen.”

  I did as she said, still wondering what the joke was. Then I saw it, and stared at Shardul. “Sainted reason! You’re related to me?”

  “Very, very, very distantly.” He tried to look severe and failed. “I thought it would amuse you.”

  “Or horrify me. Doesn’t it bother you? I thought you were so proud of being pure blood.”

  “All about the taint,” he murmured. “I’m proud of being udawatha. One or two Kelon ancestors doesn’t change that, any more than your ancestor makes you one of us.”

  “Still.... You had no idea?”

  “No. It really doesn’t bother me. It’s interesting, but it doesn’t change me.”

  “But now I’m your cousin.”

  “Not in this or any lifetime,” he said, now a little nettled.

  “Loosely speaking he is,” his aunt said, her lips twitching with unconcealed amusement. “You must admit it, Shardul.”

  “Beloved muor, not even for you.”

  Rupa laughed. “Now I think it’s time for chai. Javen, take your time to read my notes. You can pay me before you leave.”

  “Ah yes. I too must render my account.” Shardul pulled some folded papers from his briefcase, and passed it over. I didn’t look. He’d earned it, whatever he charged.

  “And we must pay what we owe,” Roshni-ji said. “Send your bill to Shardul and you’ll be paid immediately.”

  “Actually, Roshni-ji, I wonder if we could cut a deal?”

  “How so?”

  “I’ve been struggling, trying to find books on your history and culture that actually respect it. I’ve tried to learn your language but...I just don’t have that talent. I want to learn about your people but I need a teacher. Would it offend you if I offered to convert what you owe me into the equivalent number of lessons? From
you, or whoever you thought would do it? Same rate as I charge.”

  Shardul raised his eyebrows, and looked at his aunt. “I confess to surprise,” he said, displeased at the fact.

  “You don’t have to accept,” I said. “I’ll waive the bill anyway. I figured...well, the Kelon owe you a lot more than that. Consider it a personal apology for what my ancestors did.”

  “Javen, you have a good soul. I accept. It would be my pleasure.”

  I grinned. “Thank you. And what I learn, I can tell my grandfather. He’ll love that.”

  “That would please me too.”

  Shardul sighed and plucked his bill out of my hands. “In the circumstances....” He tore the papers in two, and tossed them into a bin near Rupa’s desk. “I never do that for chuma. Be honoured.”

  I bowed. “I am.” And tickled, though I’d never tell him.

  ~~~~~~~~

  He dropped me off at the house two hours later. I wondered what his law practice was like that he could take so much time off for trivialities, but it was his business.

  “Do you need help?”

  I batted my eyelids at him. “Yes. Tuck me in?”

  “Give it up, Ythen.”

  “But you can’t even say I’m not your species any more.”

  “You’re relentless, I’ll give you that. Come on, I have work to do.”

  I stood on the pavement, leaning on my stick. “I have the house to myself.”

  “Seriously, you’re wasting your time.”

  “Last man on earth—”

  “—And still not a chance...Javen.”

  He winked, closed the window, and sped off, leaving me gaping. That son of a....

  I grinned, picked up my stick, and tossed it into the air. Some things were definitely worth being shot in the arse for.

  Javen and the Inside-Out Bracelet

  My partner, Madan, dropped his report onto my desk and plopped into the chair across from me. “Asdil case.”

  “Is the husband screwing around?”

  “Only philosophically.”