“You’re making me all teary.”
He wrinkled his nose. “Trust you to spoil an honest declaration. I don’t know why I bother.”
“Well, why do you?”
“Because annoying and narrow-minded and, at times, downright lead-brained as you can be, you are also pure of heart, and a true friend to those you claim. And that is rarer than you can possibly imagine.”
He sipped his drink, daring me with those brilliant eyes to mock what he’d said. To be honest, he’d taken my breath away. “So it wasn’t really about me dating one of your people.”
“No, though my concerns remain that you must be aware of the risk to the other person. You must know what you ask, and choose someone strong-minded and tough because the danger is all theirs. Otherwise you’ll be in the permanent position of protector, which is both degrading and unequal.”
“I’m only interested in a lover who’d be my equal.”
“Then I’m delighted things didn’t work out with Tushar. He simply wasn’t good enough for you.”
He was piling on the surprises tonight. “I suppose as my fiancée, you’d know.”
He smiled at me over his glass. “Indeed.”
And so a day that had started out as crappy as it was possible to do, ended better than I’d hoped. We talked as we’d not had the chance to for some time, not about Tushar at all, but about relationships, and friendships, and how neither of us ever wanted to have to choose between a friend and someone we loved. I supposed it really was about Tushar, but we never mentioned his name.
Shardul plied me with beer, but not to the point where I felt drunk, just relaxed, and free of the stress that had turned my neck muscles to concrete over the last couple of weeks. I’d missed this. Missed him. If Tushar had stayed, I might never have been able to talk so freely to Shardul again, because his concerns and my jealousy would have always left a strain. I’d had a lucky escape in more than one sense.
After a couple of hours, I looked at my watch and realised I needed to go home to save worrying my family again, so he drove me back to Yashi’s place. “I suppose the house hunt is on again,” he said as we drew close.
“I suppose it is. Can’t say I’m brimming with enthusiasm.”
“Give yourself time to recover. You’ve taken a blow.”
“Had worse.”
“Oh yes, so very tough. For once in your life, take my advice. Give yourself time.”
“Yes, sir, Shardul-ji.”
He pulled up in front of the house. “Why do I bother? Don’t trip on the kerb.”
“I’m not drunk.”
“No, just your normal clumsy self.” I made a rude noise and opened the door. “Javen...I’m sorry this couldn't be what you wanted.”
“It never would have been. It would only ever have been a substitute.” He looked at me quizzically, but I wasn’t nearly intoxicated enough to blurt out an explanation. “Thank you for tonight. And...for everything.”
“Be at peace, Javen. Good night.”
He drove off. I let the cool night air clear my head a little, and headed inside.
The twins, already in their pyjamas, leapt on me as I walked in. Yashi looked like he’d only been home about five minutes, so I’d timed it well. I swung the kids around but not too much. “What’s this? Attacking your poor broken down uncle? Monsters, I tell you, horrible monsters.”
“We’re aren’t monsters,” ever-correct Madhu chided. “We’re little boys.”
“Same thing,” Yashi said, plucking them off me. “Now, ten minutes, and then bed. But ten quiet minutes, okay?”
“Yes, Daddy,” Madhu said.
“I don’t want to be quiet. I want to ride uncle Javen again,” Harshul said.
“How about we trade those ten quiet minutes now, for a ride tomorrow? Extra long, out in the yard. I’ll come home early.”
My nephew eyed me suspiciously. “Promise?”
“Promise. Deal?”
“Deal! Yay!”
Tara covered her ears. “Quiet minutes! Quiet!”
“I think that is quiet by little boy standards,” I said and she rolled her eyes. “I’m going to get cleaned up, and then listen to the bedtime story.”
An hour later, peace reigned, and Yashi and I ate a late supper while Tara relaxed over a mug of chai. “Everyone was talking about Tushar at school, and wondering why you hadn’t gone with him. I said I hadn’t had a chance to talk to you. Bought me some time. What do you want me to tell them?”
“Whatever you like. Tell them we broke up and he left to soothe his sorrow. Or that he left me for another man. I don’t care.”
“But the truth is?”
“I didn’t know they planned to leave, they lied to me, and it’s over, done, dead and gone.”
“You don’t seem too upset,” Yashi said as he cut his meat.
“Trust me, three hours ago, you’d had thought differently. A good friend and copious amounts of beer made a lot of difference. Now I just want to get on with my life and find my new house, so you guys can get on with redecorating.”
They exchanged looks. “What?” I asked.
“Um, Tara, do you want to go get the thing?”
“Sure.”
I frowned at Yashi. “What thing?”
“Hold on and we’ll show you. Eat your dinner, you’re losing weight.”
“Yes, Mum.”
“I don’t wear enough jewellery to be Mum.”
I grinned and forked some more food into my mouth.
Tara returned but refused to show me what was in the rolled up paper she hid behind her back. “Finish eating and then we can look.”
“Everyone’s a nag today.”
“Maybe you need it,” Yashi said.
“Like I need a second arsehole.”
“Javen, don’t use words like that. What will your niece think?”
“That her uncle is crude and rude and nothing like her lovely mother.”
She gave me a look. “You Ythen boys don’t lack for a certain rough and ready charm, do you?”
“Nope.” I pushed my plate away and wiped my hands. “So, what’s the big secret? Don’t tell me—you’re having twins after all.”
“Please don’t even joke about that,” she said with a shudder. “Yashi?”
She cleared part of the table and Yashi unrolled what turned out to be a set of building plans. “Er, I appreciate the thought but I’d like to design my own house, guys.”
Yashi cuffed my head. “This is our house, idiot.”
“Oh yeah. Uh, but it’s already built.”
“See, I told you he was smart,” Yashi said to his wife, who grinned. “Yes, it’s already built, except for this. Which is the bit of importance to you.”
I peered at the lines and minute writing and all the measurements. “You're building another room?”
“A studio apartment. For you. With your own entrance, parking and everything. And we’ll have a deck on top.”
“But it’ll take up half the yard.”
“Not quite half. We’ll sacrifice a little space from the garage, but gain the deck.”
“But why?”
“Not so smart,” Tara said. “Because we don’t want you to move, Javen. We’ve been trying to tell you but you wouldn’t listen. We like you here. We love you being here. We love you. So we want you to have your own place, at our place.”
I stared at the plans, and then at my brother and sister’s smiling faces. “You’d do this for me? Really?”
“Yeah. Really. Because the idea of you moving out makes me want to cry,” she said. “I haven’t dared to tell the boys you might leave. Please stay?”
“Only if you let me pay rent or pay for the extension or something.”
“We’ll sort something out,” Yashi said. “Joint ownership suits us, if it suits you. I don’t care what we do, so long as you agree. Say yes, or Tara really will cry.”
“In that case...yes. Though you’re both quite mad and I’m su
re you’ll regret it.”
“I know we won’t,” Tara said firmly, as Yashi put his arm around her.
“All I’ve ever wanted was a home for my family, all of my family,” he said. “And you’re my family. Always will be, Javen. Maybe one day you’ll genuinely want to get your own house, maybe have your own kids. But while the only reason to leave is a bit of privacy and our new baby, then I want you here. Understood?”
“Completely.”
Tara hugged me, and Yashi ruffled my hair. “Completely bonkers,” I muttered, though I couldn’t stop grinning. “Have I told you lately I love you guys a lot?”
“Not lately, but we took it as read. Celebratory glasses of...er, mugs of chai all round. Sorry, love.”
Tara patted her stomach. “A few months without alcohol won’t kill me, and chai or wine, who cares? This is the best news I could have.”
“This was a lousy day, and now it’s not. Thank you.”
She kissed my cheek. “Always welcome. Never forget who your friends and family are.”
I thought of Shardul, and smiled. “Nope, not ever again.”
Javen and the Bomb
The glass office door crashed open, the late afternoon sun behind the intruder, hiding their face. I had my hand on my gun and was half out of my seat, before I registered the idiot bellowing “We did it! We won!” wasn’t some crazed random attacker, but one Shardul Hema Rishabh, a respectable and normally sensible lawyer who knew better than to burst screaming like a lunatic into an office full of investigators and ex-cops carrying weapons.
“The...High Court case?” Vik asked quietly, as if he didn’t dare believe it to be true.
“The High Court case. On every single point. We won. All of it.”
Vik and Prachi whooped and ran over to hug Shardul, who hugged them back, grinning maniacally at me over their heads. Madan shook my hand, then clasped Shardul’s to pump it enthusiastically. “Well done, Shardul. Well done.”
“Damn right,” I said. “Every point? That’s more than I hoped. Incredible.”
I couldn’t remember seeing so many teeth in Shardul’s smile before. “Yes it is. So the drinks are on me, everyone. Come on, close up. I need a beer!”
I wondered if he’d already started, or whether he was just high on sheer happiness. His arms still around my assistants, Shardul led the way out to wherever the celebrations were. Madan and I hastily closed up, even though it was an hour early, and raced after them.
The news was out, and as we came closer to the Nihani neighbourhood, the streets were full of cheering indigenous, some weeping as they yelled their victory. It had been a long time coming, and no one had worked harder or sacrificed more than Shardul and his team.
It looked like every Nihan in Hegal was trying to force their way into the little bar near Shardul’s office. I figured we’d be doing our celebrating out on the street along with almost everyone else, but I’d reckoned without Shardul. Shouting “Let me through, I’m a lawyer!” he elbowed a path for us through the crowd and into the bar. As soon as he appeared, he was grabbed and hoisted aloft, carried over the heads of the patrons and up to the bar itself where he stood like a conquering general. Which he was, in a way.
“We won! Praise the Spirit!” He’d shouted in Nihani, but I knew enough of the language to understand it, and the roared appreciation of the sentiment.
“Fuck the Kelons!” someone yelled, in Kelon.
Shardul caught my eye, then pointed at me. “Present company excepted, of course.”
The bar fell silent. My position as the sole interloper was suddenly a little too conspicuous, but I just grinned. “Hey, I appreciate the offer, guys, but I’m saving myself.” The silence grew more...intense. “For Shardul,” I added, and the crowd exploded with laughter. Shardul shook his head at me, smiling. I shrugged and yelled for a beer.
The Nihani are a sober, industrious and usually pretty orderly people as a group, but man, do they know how to party. Whether Shardul really was paying for everyone’s drinks, or the bar owner had given up in despair of trying to keep up with all the demands for booze, I didn’t know, but the beer was free, and freely flowing that night. When the Nihan get drunk, they dance a lot too. And sing. I even discovered an unsuspected tendency to warble a little myself. I was still moping after the disastrous relationship with Tushar, and this was just what I needed to snap me out of my funk.
Under the influence, Shardul danced and sang too—perfectly, of course—and had a charming tendency to cuddle and hug anyone in reach. Including me. A lot. Fortunately he was too intoxicated and happy to notice my physical reaction, and in this crowd, no one was checking me out.
“Oh!” he bellowed in my right ear after we’d been at it for a couple of hours. He had to bellow because nothing else could cut through the sheer volume of noise generated by hundreds of happy, intoxicated people. “Forgot!” He had his arm slung over my shoulder like this was his normal way of talking to me. I sure wasn’t about to remind him it wasn’t.
“What?”
“High Court ruled thingy. Um, empathy thingy.”
“What? Shardul, what empathy thingy?”
He stared into my eyes with his brilliant blue ones. “The ban on empathy was ruled illegal. You can be a cop again.”
The bottom fell out of my stomach. “What? For real?”
“Completely.”
I blinked for a few seconds in utter shock. I hadn’t even known a challenge to the professional ban on empaths was part of the lawsuit.
“Javen? Are you all right?”
I hugged him. “Yeah. Thank you.”
He didn’t push me away like I thought he would, so I shamelessly wallowed in his happiness. “Will you go back?”
“Hell, how do I know? But now I can.”
He leaned back to grin at me. “Yes you can. We can do whatever the hell we want, right?”
“Right!”
A reveller grabbed his arm, and I let the hero of the moment go off to enjoy his well-deserved adulation. I needed a few minutes alone to adjust to the new world order anyway.
I could be a cop again. In my head, I’d never stopped, but my life and career had moved on a lot in four years. I had a business, partners, employees. I worked with the Nihan in a way that wouldn’t be possible on the force, now I wasn’t so tightly constrained by regulations.
But I missed being in uniform. I missed the excitement, the authority, my fellow cops. I missed being the one people turned to in trouble, and being able to make their worlds a little better, even if I was also often the one bringing bad news. And damn I missed chasing bad guys.
Hell, maybe they wouldn’t want me back. I was pretty old now. My peers would have already climbed the promotions ladder and as only a former sergeant, I might even be below people I used to order around.
“Javen, what’s up? Run out of beer already?”
I grinned at Madan holding two mugs in his big hands, clearly taking precautions against a shortage. “Yeah, so share the bounty.”
He passed one of the mugs over, and I put my empty one into a crate, one of many scattered around to collect the mugs. I took a long swig then wiped my mouth. “Shardul just told me. The ban on empathy has been ruled illegal.”
He gave a low whistle. “By the Spirit. You can go back to the force?”
“Can. Not necessarily ‘will’.”
Madan’s intelligent brown eyes bored into me. Superficially, he looked Kelon, but he was Nihani through and through. Being set up with me was a big break for him, and I knew it. Same for Prachi and Vik.
I answered his unasked question. “Look, it’ll take a while before I can do anything. The regs’ll have to be changed, all that. Probably the best I can hope for is being in the reserve. Whatever, I won’t make any decision that hurts any of you. And if I do go back, the business won’t be closed down. That, I promise.”
“Appreciate it. But you must do what is best for you. Remember this though—you can’t cross the same river
twice.”
“Yeah. It’s the wrong night to think about it. Tonight is all for you guys.”
“And you. You’ve worked hard for our people, Javen. None of us who know you will forget that.”
I lifted my mug. “To us, then.”
“To all of us.”
~~~~~~~~~~~
Six months later
~~~~~~~~~~~
I couldn’t claim to have got to know the late Tanmay Kly well in my brief encounters with him so I couldn’t guess what he would have thought about the ceremony about to be held on his old estate this morning. His widow’s feelings on the subject were very clear.
“Induma looks about to burst with pride,” I murmured to Shardul, pointing discreetly over to where the widow Kly was talking to my father and the other guests of honour. A naturally solemn woman, Induma hadn’t stopped grinning in the half hour we’d been waiting in the hall.
“As well she might. This is a wonderful day for our people. One I never thought to see.”
“No, no. You’re doing it all wrong, Shardul. You’re supposed to be cynical and mutter darkly about chuma fat cats using the indigenous people to put a gloss on their greed, and how things haven’t really changed at all.”
He smiled serenely. “Another day perhaps. And you’ve said it for me. Denge Consortium is undoubtedly milking this for all it’s worth. But at the end of it, there will still be thirty engineering scholarships given to Nihani students, and another hundred for other specialties. That’s no small achievement, and Induma deserves every gram of pride she feels.”
“As do you, Shardul,” Roshni-ji said. “It’s been a joint effort by the committee.”
“Even Javen played his small part,” Shardul said, winking at me. I pulled a face and was glad, for once, that his aunt was blind and couldn’t see his nonsense. “You aren’t going to greet your father?”
“Are you joking? We haven’t spoken in nearly a year. I was surprised his security didn’t veto my attendance.”
“I dare them to try,” Roshni-ji said, radiating intense disapproval, her milky eyes turned towards my father. I could sense nothing from him at this distance, but maybe she could.
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