Different Senses

by Ann Somerville

  “So, Dad. What’s the problem?”

  He nodded to the servant who left, shutting the door. “It’s a matter of some delicacy, son.”

  “Figured that. Who’s in trouble? You?”

  “Me.”

  I turned to my mother, eyebrows raised. “You? How could you be in any trouble?”

  “If you’d let me explain, Javen, you’d find out.” My father set his drink down, radiating irritation. “Lochana made a business transaction with an individual on Kelon. A sale, to be specific. The sale price was transferred as agreed, and the item sent by secure transit, also as agreed. But when the sealed packet arrived and was opened, the box inside was empty.”

  “So call the police and report it to your insurance.”

  “It wasn’t insured.” I raised an eyebrow at that. “It wasn’t something we wanted listed on our insurance.”

  “Mum, please don’t tell me you’re selling stolen goods.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. It was a bracelet, purchased quite legally.”

  “Then call the police. Obviously someone in the TransPlanet office stole it, or your purchaser is lying.”

  “We can’t call the police.”

  I sat back in the chair. “Look, could you stop beating around the bush? Why can’t you call the police? Pretend I’m University educated and can follow big words.”

  My father gave me a look at that remark. “You don’t need to be so disrespectful, Javen. I am the governor.”

  And could we ever forget that? “Dad, please.”

  “The bracelet is of banis manufacture. With all the attention lately about them claiming to be exploited, it’s a sensitive subject.”

  “And the governor’s wife flogging off indigenous artefacts won’t help your position, right?”

  They both scowled, but that was it in a nutshell. “So return the money and write it off to experience, Mum.”

  “I already returned the funds but the purchaser is threatening to sue because the bracelet was part of a trade deal, and its loss means the deal will fall through. He’s demanding thirty thousand dolar in compensation.”

  “Can he really claim that?”

  “Yes, according to our lawyer. We could settle but we’d have to declare the payment in Rajan’s end of year financial reports, and questions would be asked.”

  “Have you dealt with this man before? Is he honest?”

  “A couple of times, and yes, I believe so.” She sounded uncertain, and her emotions were more so. “He contacted me because he met someone I’d sold some jewellery to last year.”

  “I checked him out,” Dad said. “He has no criminal record, and is a respectable businessman.”

  Yeah, right. “Well, that’s a mess. What do you expect me to do?”

  Mum waved her hands in agitation. “Find the bracelet! Or at least find who took it, and maybe they can be persuaded to reveal where they disposed of it. The purchaser thinks I kept the bracelet to sell again. Horrid man.” She shuddered delicately.

  “And the bracelet came from a perfectly nice person, I bet.” She looked away. “I’ll do what I can, but no promises, and no approval either. You shouldn’t be selling this stuff, Mum. How long have you been doing it?”

  “About a year, and don’t lecture me, Javen. Just because you’re all excited about the connection with that side of the family, doesn’t make you an expert on banis culture, or their rights.”

  “I know they’re sick and tired of their art and culture being sent off planet, and you know it too or you wouldn’t be trying to hide it.”

  “It’s a matter of politics, Javen. Your mother’s done nothing illegal.”

  “Doesn’t mean it’s not immoral. Oh, calm down,” I said irritably as Mum pulled herself up to yell at me. “I said I’d help. At least it’s not one of you trying to conceal a lover or something.”

  “Javen!”

  “You know what I do for a living, Dad. You’d be amazed who’s sleeping around. Can we skip dinner? I’m not hungry. I just want to get all the details on the bracelet, and track its movements before it left Uterden.”

  An hour later I escaped from the residence and took deep breaths of clean night air. I felt vaguely sick, the way I used to after finding dead bodies. To think I’d protested all this time to Shardul that no one in my family had been directly involved in oppressing his people, and my damn mother was selling precious indigenous artefacts, one of the most visible and indefensible marks of colonial privilege and abuse, and something which made the steam come out the ears of even gentle Roshni-ji.

  The simple thing would be to let them wallow in their own mess. If Dad lost office as a result, that would be the best thing to happen to our family, and the scandal would make other traffickers thinks twice about engaging in the trade.

  But...damn it. Family. And a thief ripping them off, and maybe other people too. Mum might be morally suspect for selling the artefacts, but if I walked away without at least trying, that would make me scum. Protect and serve. That was my code, even for my own incredibly confusing and annoying relatives.

  ~~~~~~~~

  The local TransPlanet management took a bit of sweet-talking before they accepted that I didn’t necessarily think any of its employees were behind the theft. Once they explained the security system to me, I couldn’t see how they could be. For small items such as Mum had sent, the procedure looked as airtight as anyone could design. The object was placed in a thick plastic bag and sealed in such a way that it could only be opened by destroying the bag—so no chance, apparently, of opening it and extracting the item. More than that, the seal was covered by a flimsy tape signed in three places by the customer. The tape would withstand no stress at all, disintegrating as soon as any pressure or strain was put on it. Another tamper detector.

  The customer themselves placed the bag in a box with an electronic lock, sealed and labelled in the same way as the inner packet. The customer was handed a data card, and once this was inserted, software in the box lock generated a unique pass code, which could only be read by the customer once they put it in their home comm or reader. The customer sent this code to the recipient, and only with that code could the box be opened. The code went nowhere near the company’s main servers, was not recorded anywhere but on the card, and could not be retrieved in any way if the card was lost. It was a system used widely on Kelon and elsewhere, and I knew it to be foolproof. So which fool had managed to crack it?

  With more sweet-talking, the company manager gave me a box, several unused packets and labels for testing. That in itself told me they were confident of their procedures. But someone had managed to circumvent them, and I had to find out how. Which meant Kirin and his lab full of extremely clever people.

  After two years and dozens of friendly, non-stressful interactions, the agony of seeing Kirin had faded to a mild regret, like a bruise that had nearly but not quite healed. From time to time, I sensed sorrow from him over what had happened, but nothing crippling. We’d moved on from each other and the anger, and were now friends. Friends who would probably fuck given the right circumstances and enough booze, but that was it. I carefully avoided those circumstances and the booze, because I might be nearly healed, but the memory of pain lingered.

  He grinned as he came to reception to meet me, and kissed my cheek. “Javen, I wasn’t expecting you today.”

  “Rush job, and um, a pretty sensitive one. Any chance we could talk in your office?”

  “Of course.”

  He asked me to sit and closed the door. “Haven’t seen you look this cranky in a while.”

  “I haven’t been this cranky for years. Look, what I’m about to tell you, I haven’t even told Yashi, so keep it to yourself, please. It’s about Mum.”

  He listened, eyebrows raised, as I explained the problem. When I finished, he steepled his hands. “Your mother’s the very last person I’d expect to be involved in artefact trading. I’m disappointed.”

  “Me too. More than. Anyway, what I
need is for you to see if there’s any way the strongbox or internal packet can be breached and resealed without it being obvious. Can you do that?”

  “Of course. But why are you so sure the purchaser isn’t lying?”

  “I’m not sure, but the guy provided video of him opening the box and packet in front of witnesses. It’s suspicious that he had witnesses and camera on hand, but the video is conclusive. Not tampered with, so far as Dad’s experts have been able to determine. So at this point I’m looking at the period of time between Mum sealing the packet and leaving it in her desk and the following morning when she personally delivered it to the TransPlanet office. If the company didn’t steal it, the bracelet had to have been taken before she put the packet in the strong box.”

  “It’s like a magician’s trick, isn’t it?”

  I gave him a thin smile. “Yeah, I guess it is. So I need you to tell me how the trick was done. Take your time. We’ve lost over a week already. The bracelet’s long gone, I suspect.”

  “You could be right. By the way, did you ask your committee about the school trainees?”

  “The trustees are enthusiastic. So prepare a programme, and I’ll deliver the bodies.”

  “I look forward to it, and so’s Jyoti. It was her idea, you know.”

  I did, in fact, but I didn’t tell him that. “It’s a good idea whoever came up with it. Thanks, Kirin.”

  “Want to have lunch soon?”

  My breath caught. I made myself exhale and smile. “Sure. When?”

  “End of this week?”

  I took out my organiser and entered it. “Done. Twelve okay with you?”

  “Sure is. Swing by here and I’ll let you know where I’ve booked.”

  I waved goodbye and kept smiling, even though my heart had just flip-flopped inside my chest. Another milestone on the path to recovery, an inevitable one, perhaps, but yet I hadn’t expected it. Kirin had been completely calm as he issued the invitation. In the next five days, I had to find a way to see this as just a lunch between friends, and not a date. That was behind both of us. Really, it was.

  My fingers worked on autopilot, calling Shardul’s number before I had even worked out why. “Javen. Is this where you drop me in your father’s mess?”

  I laughed. “Maybe. Free for lunch?”

  “Not today. Tomorrow.”

  “See you at twelve.”

  He closed the call. I stared at my phone, amazed at how unsubtle my subconscious could be sometimes.

  Then I remembered why involving Shardul in this was a bad, bad idea. He’d hit the roof about what Mum was up to. On the other hand, if anyone knew the dirty tricks and players in the artefacts trade, he did.

  Only two people on Uterden knew Mum had the bracelet in her possession on the day before it supposedly left for Kelon—Mum herself, and the vendor, Timin Veringe, fashionable artist and society pet. The only person who could have organised the theft was someone who knew where it would be that evening, so that meant it had to be Veringe or someone working for him. But why would someone who moved at the level that Veringe did, risk losing status and reputation over a Nihani bracelet?

  The ‘why’ would have to wait until I worked out the ‘how’. Unfortunately, Mum had already asked her staff about whether they knew of anything being removed from her office, so I’d lost the element of surprise. The delay in investigating matters meant surveillance video no longer existed either. Still, there were only a limited number of people who’d had access to Mum’s private office during the critical period. I needed to question them and use my empathy to tell if any of them was hiding something.

  I called my mother and she told me to come over to the residence straight away. If I had needed a sign of just how important this was to her, the fact she cleared her diary for me at no notice was more than enough. My father was usually easier to get hold of than she was.

  “Have you found out who it is?” she asked before my backside hit the chair.

  “No, Mum. It hasn’t been a day since I heard about it. You’ll have to give me time.”

  “I’m sorry. It’s just...I can’t sleep for worrying about it.”

  I bit back a snotty remark about it being all she deserved. “I’m working on it, but it’ll take a few days, minimum.”

  “Days!”

  “Yeah. Mum, I need to talk to the people with keys to your office. The people who had access that night.”

  “But I already spoke to them.”

  “Yeah, but I’m an empath, remember?”

  Her nose wrinkled. “I try very hard to forget. You want to use that here?”

  Her revulsion shouldn’t have offended me, not after so long. “I use it all the time. I’m using it now.”

  “I can’t subject my staff to such an intrusive procedure. It’s obscene.”

  I stood. “Fine. Good luck with finding the thief without it. Talk to you later, Mum.”

  “Wait! Javen, it’s simply...so...well, invasive. I trust these people and they trust me.”

  “And if they have nothing to hide, they’ll never know I was here.” I turned and saw a pretty enamelled metal screen hiding the unused room heater. “I can sit behind that. You talk to them, I’ll listen. No invasion, no intrusion.”

  “But I’ll know.”

  “Bit late for ethics now, don’t you think?”

  She flushed. “You’re a very judgemental young man. I don’t know where you get that from.”

  “Insult me all you like, but you need me and my judgement and my obscene talent. Yes or no, because I’m busy.”

  “Do you have to be so unkind, Javen? I’m your mother.”

  “You just called me....” I took a breath. “Yes or no, Mum. I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t necessary.”

  She bit her perfectly painted lip. “Yes. But I don’t like it at all.”

  “Objection noted. Are they all around now?”

  “There are only three people with the key aside from me, and yes.”

  “Security guards?”

  “All the guards have access to the central key store, of course, but they only patrol the outside of the building at night. They’re not allowed inside the living quarters. They have logs showing their patrol paths and none of them came inside that night.”

  “But none of the other three people supposedly came inside either.”

  “They don’t wear tags which track their movements, Javen. Though I refuse to believe any of them could have stolen from me.”

  I didn’t comment on the obvious illogic of that, knowing it was a waste of time. “Okay. Can you ask them in, one by one? Keep it casual as you can, like it’s no big deal.”

  “They already know it’s important.”

  “That’s a shame. Do your best then.”

  I set up a chair behind the screen, and waited. One by one, my mother’s staff came in, and she spoke to them in a gentle friendly voice—tones I hardly ever heard her use towards me any more. Each woman projected mild anxiety and concern, but not one of them radiated guilt or anything more than I’d expect from someone talking to their boss.

  When she finished and the room was clear, I came around from behind the screen and shook my head. Her smile was as relieved as the emotions I sensed from her. “I knew none of them did it.”

  “That’s good, but it leaves us with a mystery. I’m going to speak to the security staff. Do you know why surveillance footage is only kept for a week?”

  “No, dear. But why would we keep it normally? If there’s a problem, we’d know almost immediately. At least...we would usually.”

  “Yeah. Convenient for your thief. Tell me why you didn’t take the bracelet to TransPlanet that afternoon?”

  She tsked. “Oh, that was so annoying. Timin was nearly an hour late. Said there was some ‘drama’, as he put it, with one of his clients. His art clients, I mean. He did call to let me know and apologised profusely when he arrived but by the time we finished the transaction, it was too late to send the bracelet. I
had to come back here.”

  That was convenient for someone. “And you met...?”

  “At Kerteze’s. Have you been there? It’s one of the loveliest places for afternoon refreshment.”

  “Not really my thing, Mum.” More and more I thought that there could only be one suspect here, but how had he managed to remove the bracelet from a securely guarded building?

  Now my mother had finished with me, I had to deal with the treacly slow bureaucracy of the residence administration before I could get permission to interview the security staff. My father had given me permission, but that wasn’t enough, apparently. I had to be documented multiple times, my official investigator’s badge scanned twice, and my father called to give verbal confirmation again. By the time I was chewed up and spat out, it was nearly twelve. I’d wasted half a day on this nonsense, and I hadn’t achieved a damn thing.

  Which put me in a snarly mood, for sure, but I needed to be on my best behaviour with the security officers. It had been made clear to me that should I offend or accuse any individual without their legal representative being present, my arse would be sued back to Kelon no matter who my daddy was.

  So it was a huge relief when I turned up at the security chief’s office, and the middle-aged, straight-backed man at the desk rose, grinned, and held out his hand. “Lieutenant Damen, Sergeant Ythen. Retired, like you. Nice to meet you.”

  I shook his hand dazedly, trying to remember where I’d heard the name. “Lieutenant Damen...Wescom Street. The siege.”

  Five years ago. A house full of hostages, women and children, and a gun-waving bastard out of his mind on drugs and mental illness threatening to explode a bomb and blow the lot of them to hell. Damen had been the lead negotiator, and exchanged himself for the hostages. Eventually got out alive, with the gunman, but at the cost of a severe leg injury. The force still used the case to train new officers on best practice in siege handling.

  “That’s me. I still limp because of it, and the medal doesn’t stop the ache, but you know how these things are.”

  “I do. It’s an honour to meet you, sir.”

  “Now, none of that, sergeant. I understand you’re looking into this spot of bother for Shrimati Ythen. Makes us look bad, I’ll be honest, but I’m damned if I can work out how anyone got in or out of the building.”