Different Senses

by Ann Somerville

  “Come off it, Javen. I saw you two at the ball. You were devouring him with your eyes, and he was just as bad.”

  “He was acting.”

  “Uh huh. You weren’t.”

  “No. He knows how I feel but he won’t sleep with a Kelon and that’s that. I don’t blame him. The things he fights against every day, are things you and I don’t ever have to think about. I even had to bully the taxi driver into taking him and Jyoti to the ball, would you believe?”

  “I wish I could say I was shocked. He doesn’t like me, I know. But I can’t blame him for that either because he must look at me and think how easy I’ve had it, compared to him. Take Jyoti—the girl’s incredibly intelligent, but she couldn’t get a scholarship to University, so ended up doing a short qualification instead of the degree she should have done. Now she’ll work as a lab tech instead of the researcher she could be and damn well should be. It’s a wonder people like Jyoti and Shardul don’t stab us when they see us, just on general principles.”

  I’d never heard Kirin speak so passionately about the racial situation before. “You’ve been doing your homework.”

  “Yes. Because of Jyoti, and...uh, because of you. I wanted to understand why you felt so drawn to work with these people. Now I think I do. I know there’s a lot I don’t understand. If Shardul doesn’t like me, it’s because of that, not a flaw in him.”

  “Nice of you to be so understanding.”

  “I admire him. He’s been good for you. The work with the Institute has...taken away the bitter edge.”

  “Not all of it.”

  “No, but the edge I put there, and losing your job did.”

  A year ago, we couldn’t have had this conversation without me walking away. But we could now, finally. “One door closes, another opens.”

  “Sounds a little religious to me, Javen.”

  I laughed a little. “It’s hanging around all these devout udawathei that does it.”

  “When you’re talking to them though, they’re not painful about it. Vik and I talked a lot about his background, and he mentioned his religion a few times, but I didn’t find too cringe-making. Not like Janki-ji at Uni. Remember him?”

  “Ugh. Been trying to forget all these years.” Our one and only Reformed Deist lecturer had been just a little crazy. Brilliant mathematician, but weird. Any number of times he would stop talking during a lecture, tell us to work on a problem and then stand stock still, eyes closed. No amount of playing up would distract him. Apparently his religion demanded prayers at certain times of the day and it didn’t matter if he was in the middle of teaching or not. I was a little surprised the University put up with it, but he was a genius. “You and Vik talked a lot then?”

  “On and off. While we were dancing. He’s a wonderful dancer.”

  A little smile had crept onto his face, and the warmth I felt emanated from him, not my own stony heart. “Kirin, you weren’t a little smitten, were you?”

  “Me? No. Well, a little. He’s very beautiful, even if I feel like a dirty old man thinking it. He’d never be interested in someone my age.”

  “He’s twenty, and more mature than you think. He’s quite capable of playing a callow youth when it suits him, but he’s not.”

  “Matchmaking, Javen?”

  “I don’t need to. I’m sure you exchanged numbers.”

  He flushed. “Um, yes but only because we were on the case together. Stop it, you bastard.” He flicked a crumb at my smirk. “He’s thirteen years younger than me. That’s a lifetime at twenty.”

  “So wait until he’s twenty-five. You can have fun together without turning it into a lifelong commitment. Have you even had a date since the little bitch flounced off?”

  “Not anything worthy of the name. The ball was the most fun I’ve had in months.”

  “Then if you want to take Vik dancing, or out for a meal, do it. But be careful of him, Kirin. If things get messy, he’s the one who’ll pay the price, not you.”

  “Yes. One more reason to put it back in my pants and look for someone my own age.”

  “You tried that already. Try something new.”

  “I will if you will.”

  “I don’t want to date my assistant.”

  “No, I meant Shardul.”

  “Shardul is off limits. Trust me on this. I’d have more chance sleeping with Jyoti than him.”

  “Maybe. Hard to imagine someone who can dance with such passion being able to turn off desire because of principles.”

  “He doesn’t desire me. How many times do I have to say that?”

  He grinned. “Until you convince me, of course. More chai?”

  This could get to be a habit, lazing in the sun with a friend, eating treats and gossiping. Even though there had been a long period where I was either unemployed, or underemployed, I hadn’t actually enjoyed not having enough to do. I hadn’t been able to relax. I hadn’t gone on picnics, or taken myself off to the beach or the mountains. I’d just sat around fretting about how I would spend the rest of my life. I’d been an idiot. One of the teachings of the udawathei’s Seeker was that his people should put as much energy into enjoyment as they did into working. Of all the things Roshni-ji had explained to me of her religion, that one had struck me as the most sensible. “We should do this more often, you and me.”

  “Yes,” Kirin said. “Now you can do it without flinching. Yes, I know that’s my fault. I’m glad you’ve moved past it. Allows me to feel less guilty.”

  “How would you feel if Vik was empathic?”

  His eyes widened. “Is he? It didn’t occur to me to ask.”

  “He’s not. But...you don’t seem too bothered.”

  “I’m not in a relationship with him.”

  “It would make a difference.”

  Kirin looked up. “Yes. It would. I can’t lie. Can’t you understand how hard it would be? Knowing your lover could tell every mood, with no chance of concealing transitory emotions? That flash of anger over something trivial, could end up causing the biggest argument. A bad day at work that you don’t want to share because talking about it makes it worse, might mean your partner feels excluded. We depend on being able to hide sometimes, Javen. At least I do.”

  “I don’t go around telling people what they feel, or how others do.”

  “You’re not living with someone right now. Not a lover. Are we going to fight over this? I was enjoying it so much.”

  “No, not going to fight. Just trying to understand. I scare you.”

  “‘Scared’, not ‘scare’. I’m not proud of it. It made me realise I wasn’t half the man I thought I was, and accepting that shame has taken me some time.”

  “I don’t know how I’d react if the situations were reversed. I’d never faced it before.”

  “Nor I. I failed the first test our relationship faced. I now know I have a lot of work to do if I’m ever in another one.”

  A handsome admission, and one I couldn’t fault. “Me too. I wasn’t exactly adult about things.”

  “You did nothing wrong. You don’t need to share the blame.”

  No, I didn’t. But I could let Kirin feel less guilt without it making me guilty. “At least now I know you won’t be dating any empaths, not just avoiding me.” I stretched. “Oh, I want to stay here all day, but I have work to do.”

  “Me too, sadly. But we’ll do it again, yes?”

  “Yes. I feel less murderous and that has to be a good thing.”

  We cleared up and took everything back to his auto. “Thanks for coming.”

  He grinned. “Thanks for having me.” He kissed my cheek. “Don’t give up on you know who.”

  “Yeah yeah. I’ll tell Vik to expect your call.”

  “You do and I’ll let your tyres down. See you soon.”

  I still didn’t feel like working, but at least I would probably manage not to alienate any new clients when I called them.

  I climbed into my auto and had my finger on the power button when my
phone went. “Shardul, hello. You got my message.”

  “Of course. I’ve arranged one of our people to attend the meeting.”

  “Great. Sorry about the short notice.”

  “I expect no better from your mother, I’m afraid. I’ll be there too, to give our expert legal protection.”

  “Mum won’t like that at all.”

  “Do you think I care?”

  “No. Perhaps you and I should arrive first.”

  “Certainly. I can ask your father for your hand in marriage while I’m there.”

  I groaned. “You don’t give up, do you?”

  “I haven’t begun to plumb the depths of the comedic potential of the situation, Javen. Besides, you’re the one inviting me to your parents’ house. In my culture, that’s a sign of intent.”

  “Shardul, please, I’m having a really bad day.”

  “Poor little chuma. I’ll come separately, with my expert. You arrive first, at fifteen minutes to. I will arrive at five to.”

  “Not many indigenous visit the residence. People will talk.”

  “I hope so. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  This fucking case was taking up too much of my time, and Shardul’s. If it didn’t end with Veringe’s nasty little trade stopped, my bad mood might become permanent. It probably would, at least in Hegal. Between my mother and Harinakshi Narl, the word would get out pretty quickly among that crowd to avoid Timin Veringe. I might not even have to do more than I had. But I couldn’t help my nature. I had to know what happened to that bracelet.

  Madan was back in the office when I got there, though the youngsters were out researching. “Must have been some meeting,” he said.

  “Nope. I was playing hooky and proud of it. Soaking up the sun and eating sweets.”

  “And a fine example that sets the kids,” he grumbled. I made a vulgar gesture and he grinned. “I called a couple of people. No names of associates but the word is that Timin Veringe is an occasional customer for untaxed and unlicensed pharmaceuticals. Not in huge quantities, so it could be for personal consumption.”

  “Or a favour to a customer or two. Still, not enough to hang him.”

  “No. Either he’s got other sources, or it’s not something he’s into here. Did you ever check out that purchaser? That could be your line in on what he’s up to.”

  “Dad did as soon as Mum told him what had happened. I should check for myself though.”

  I had no access to real-time Kelon police records, but the Medele national database was updated monthly, the last time being yesterday. I plugged in the purchaser’s name, Raj Kedl, and got nothing.

  “He’s clean,” I told Madan.

  “Associates? Business partners?”

  I did a search for what companies he was involved in. There were several, all in partnership with one Ujesh Geng. I typed Geng’s name into the database—and sat back in amazement. “His business partner’s got form. Fraud, handling stolen goods, and passing off.”

  “What’s the chance someone like that is involved in some high-powered trade deal?”

  “Not a lot.” I checked my notes and searched for the other company allegedly involved in the deal, the one supposedly withdrawing from the deal because of the missing bracelet. It existed all right—but the principals of the company were Geng himself and another person who also had a criminal record. I cross-referenced Geng and Veringe. No known association. I bit my lip. They must know each other. I called up Prachi’s report on Veringe. The guy had siblings and living parents. I tried them against Geng.

  “Got it. Veringe’s sister is married to Geng’s brother. Neither of them have criminal records, but Geng and Veringe definitely know each other, and it follows that Kedl does too.”

  “Not a crime in itself, but why did Geng and Kedl go through your mother to buy an artefact Geng’s brother-in-law could have provided directly?”

  “That, my friend, is what I need an answer for.”

  “And how exactly did your mother hook up with Kedl?”

  “He apparently met someone she’d sold some jewellery to. What’s the bet that Veringe told Kedl or Geng to find out who her purchasers were on Kelon and make contact with them?”

  “I’d take that wager. I don’t believe in coincidences.”

  “Neither do I,” I said.

  I sent a summary of what I’d found to Shardul. I still had nothing strong enough to haul the catch into the net, but the net was drawing in. A lot depended on how good Shardul’s expert turned out to be.

  I took advantage of my mother’s enforced timetable and Shardul’s suggestion about the staggered arrival, to ask to meet both my parents before Shrimati Narl arrived. I told them about Geng, and what I had learned about Veringe. “At this point, you can assume Kedl won’t sue,” I said. “The question is, what do you want to do about Veringe if I can categorically tie him to the theft?”

  My mother’s hands fluttered in distress. “That dreadful man. I can’t believe I did business with him, or with that Kedl person.”

  “Well you did. If you don’t shut Veringe down, he’ll keep trading in artefacts and duping other customers.”

  “That’s their concern, not ours,” my father said. “What you’ve told us makes it even more important that no word of this gets out.”

  “But Mum, won’t you tell your friends? Won’t Shrimati Narl?”

  “Harinakshi won’t tell anyone, Javen. She doesn’t want her husband to know about this. And I’m not telling a soul.”

  “Then Veringe will go on trading, and cheating people.”

  “He won’t cheat me, and that’s all I care about. In fact, I should cancel this meeting with Harinakshi. There’s no point.”

  I glared. “Mum, I’ve gone to a lot of trouble to accommodate you over this, and so has my friend. The very least you owe me is let me find out if Shrimati Narl has the real bracelet or not.”

  Her lips pinched pale in disapproval. “As you wish. But after that, it’s over. I don’t want any more to do with it.”

  “Dad, don’t you want to know how someone got into the residence?”

  He grimaced in disgust. “He has a point there, Lochana. That’s a bigger issue.”

  “Do as you like, but don’t involve me.” Her phone chimed quietly and she checked it. “Harinakshi’s here. I have to meet her. Come to my office with your friend and remember your manners, Javen.

  I nearly snapped back that she should mind hers, but there was no point. “Then excuse me,” I said, hanging onto my temper with my fingernails. “My friend will be here shortly.”

  I waited in the lobby, glaring at anyone who looked my way. When Shardul and an older woman walked in, he did a double-take as I walked towards him. “I might not be matos but I think I sense intense anger.”

  “You’d be dead right.” I bowed to his companion, earning some looks from the clerks and guards in the lobby. “Javen Ythen, Shrimati...?”

  “Abha, Sri Ythen.”

  Unusual for a Nihani woman not to give her full name when introduced, but she radiated nervousness, and some fear. I smiled to reassure her. “Thank you very much for coming, Abha-ji. I apologise for the short notice. We can go on through to my mother’s office.”

  I didn’t know Harinakshi Narl, though her face was vaguely familiar to me. Right now, she was irritated and impatient, and the arrival of not one but two Nihan to talk to her, didn’t help.

  “You didn’t tell me Sri...um...was coming.” My mother had a near photographic memory for names and she’d been told Shardul’s several times.

  “Shardul-ji is here to help Shrimati Abha, Mother. Shrimati Abha, this is Shrimati Narl, and my mother, Shrimati Ythen.”

  Abha-ji bobbed her head quickly. Shardul guided her to a chair, and stood behind it, emanating protectiveness and slight menace. My mother scowled at him.

  “Shrimati Narl, could we see the bracelet?”

  She produced a box from her purse, but clung to it possessively. “I won’t surrender it
. My husband paid for it legally, and he’d be furious if I lost one of his gifts.”

  “I understand. There’s no question of you having to give it back.”

  Shardul made a quiet rude noise, but I ignored him. I held out my hand and she handed it over, glaring as if she thought I would somehow spirit it away. I gave the box to Abha-ji, who produced a loupe and, taking the bracelet out, examined it closely.

  While she worked, I wanted to ask about the purchase. “Did your husband tell you where he’d got the item, Shrimati Narl, and who the creator was?”

  “He didn’t tell me anything about it except that it was a very rare and valuable piece. If it’s a fake, I won’t dare tell him.”

  “That’s up to you, Shrimati Narl. I’m only interested in going after the person who robbed my mother.”

  My mother gave me a warning look. “Allegedly robbed, Javen. After all, we don’t want to slander anyone.”

  I felt Shardul’s surprise and hoped he’d have enough sense to follow my cue. “Of course not, Mother. I’m sure this whole business is just an awkward misunderstanding.” Please don’t say anything, Shardul. To my relief, he didn’t, though his glare became positively life-threatening.

  “It’s genuine,” Abha-ji said, turning to look at Shardul. “I would stake my reputation on it. It has Jasraj-ji’s mark in both places. The gems and wiring are the correct age too.” She stroked the bracelet. “Such a shame we’ve lost it.”

  “Give it to me,” Shrimati Narl snapped, snatching the box and bracelet back from Abha-ji’s hands. “We bought it legally. No one forced your people to sell.”

  Shardul put a comforting hand on the cringing Abha-ji’s shoulder. “Of course not,” he said politely. “Abha-ji speaks only as someone who appreciates the craft of our ancestors.”

  Shrimati Narl ignored him as if he hadn’t spoken at all. “Lochana, are you done?”

  “Yes, Harinakshi. I’m so sorry you’ve been inconvenienced.”

  “I expect to hear no more about this.”

  “I give you my word. Thank you for coming. I appreciate it, and so does Rajan.”

  Barely mollified by the hint that she’d won a favour from the governor, Shrimati Narl sniffed and stalked out.

  My mother turned to Abha-ji. “How dare you say something like that to her?”