Going up the narrow stairs brought back unwelcome memories, and from what I sensed from him, it wasn’t just me. “Are you really okay with this?” I whispered.
“Really too late to ask that, Gafur.” I jerked as he said my cover name, but he pointed to the wall. “Neighbours,” he mouthed, and I nodded.
The apartment was unchanged from my memory of it. I wondered if Shardul cleaned it each time Kawildin left, but it wasn’t like being Kelon was catching.
“Through there,” he pointed. “My library.”
“Ouch. Sorry.”
He raised his eyebrows and showed the first sign of humour I’d seen all evening. “Do you really think I wouldn’t come in if I needed a book, Javen? You’re not that repulsive.”
I laughed, relieved. “Thanks, I think. But sorry, anyway. I’ll behave.”
“I doubt it,” he said dryly. “We’re leaving at five, so be up at four if you want breakfast or miss out.”
“Want me to share the driving?”
“No. I’ve managed on less sleep, but if you’ll excuse me, I must go to bed now. There are spare toiletries in the bathroom.” He pointed in the direction. “I’ll use it first if you don’t mind. Good night.”
“Geurili.”
He jerked. “Your accent’s improved.”
“Practice and boredom.”
“Ah. You might want to roughen it. Kawildin sounds like a calving kolija when he speaks Nihani.”
He left while I was still grinning over that. Okay, childish of me to be jealous of Kawildin but I couldn’t help being pleased that I had no competition in that direction, even if the contest had been declared a bust months ago.
Knock it off, I told myself. Shardul had allowed me into his sanctum for the second time, and I didn’t want it to end up anything like the first had. So I had to put my feelings on ice, and concentrate on the damn job.
And get some sleep. Looked like being a long day tomorrow.
Chapter 7
Not even Shardul could be perky or clever at four in the morning, and communication was a series of grunts until we’d had a cup of chai apiece. But even then we said little to each other, nerves and lack of sleep killing the mood. The only conversation we had was as we left the building and I realised it was raining. He glanced at me as I exclaimed in surprise. “The wet season started last week.”
“Oh. Being stuck inside, I haven’t paid any attention to the weather.”
“The rain is a blessing of the Spirit, and necessary.”
“Pain in the arse to drive in, though.”
A brief show of teeth. “That too. Come on.”
Outwardly calm, his inner being was far more strung out, so I kept quiet to let him concentrate on the driving in the dark and lousy weather. The only other vehicles on the streets were police autos and a couple of cykes. We were stopped briefly to check credentials, and waved on by a bored, wet cop. I hoped the rain would keep terrorists in their beds, and make for a quiet time in the city.
Over an hour later, the sun crawled out and shed a feeble glow through the still punishing weather. We were headed north, and the roads were still clear. The police presence remained noticeable, and we were stopped twice more at checkpoints, Shardul earning hard and unfriendly glares, and a muttered curse at the second one as his ID was shoved back at him.
He drove off, expression grim. “Your colleagues have been rather put out by my defending the suspect in that police officer’s killing.”
“Do you blame them?”
“Everyone is entitled to a proper defence lawyer. I’m doing my job, when I’m not doing yours.”
“You know I’m under orders not to fight with you, right?”
He barked out a startled laugh. “Really? Shall I take that as a challenge?”
“Only if you want to prove I really suck at following orders.”
He sniffed, but the anger over his treatment at the checkpoint abated. I grinned to myself and settled back for the rest of the ride.
By the time we pulled over at the designated meeting point—a small services stop in the middle of nowhere—Shardul had told me in his economical fashion about his meetings with Sanjeev and what Gafur Kawildin had supposedly passed on. That had been in the file, but I was glad to hear it from Shardul himself, getting impressions, not just dry facts.
“No suspicion at my supposed betrayal?”
“Not that I could see. Since none of the information could have led directly to the death of any officer, and were of a type aimed purely at protecting our people, whatever conscience Sanjeev had was soothed.”
“You think he has a conscience?” I asked.
Shardul hesitated. “Yes, he does, but a rather uninformed and malleable one. The things he objects to surprises me at times. Personally he’s not someone I would entrust any confidential enterprise to.”
“Hopefully the people we’re meeting feel differently.”
“Yes.” But he remained unconvinced. I hoped he was wrong.
Sanjeev wasn’t there when we arrived at the services stop. “I need a leak. Want something from the store?” I asked.
“Chai and something to eat,” Shardul murmured, peering through the sheets of rain towards the road.
Still no sign of the man when I returned. I handed a sweet bun and the drink to Shardul. “Think he’s ditched?”
“Not yet. He’s coming from the west. There’s been flooding on the roads, remember. It was on the feed.”
Was it? I hadn’t paid attention to the news. Listening to Shardul was too rare a pleasure to give up. “How long do we wait?”
“As long as it takes. Let’s find somewhere to sit out of this.”
We waited for an hour, drinking chai and picking at indifferent baked goods. I was too wound up to eat much. Shardul kept his thoughts to himself after having been fairly chatty in the auto. Without the distraction of driving, I supposed the reality had crashed down again.
“There he is,” he said, pointing through the condensation-wet window. “Ready?”
“Nope. Let’s go.”
Sanjeev bowed politely as we approached. “Sorry for the delay. The roads are a mess. Rural life, eh?”
“Yes,” Shardul agreed. “Are we leaving immediately?”
“Yes, because we’re late. If you need the restroom, I suggest you use it here, as we have a long journey.”
He’d barely given me a second look. Nothing, certainly, to indicate that he thought Gafur Kawildin’s appearance had changed.
But something was bothering him. His jaw twitched with the tension I sensed in him and he avoided looking at either of us for too long. My hackles went up—was this a trap?
“Is something wrong?” I asked, backing away subtly, wishing I had a weapon handy.
“No, no. Just hurry, we’re late.”
Unconvinced, I followed Shardul to the restroom. “He’s uptight about something. We could be walking into a setup.” My words were as much for the recorder implant as for Shardul.
“Do we cancel? Isn’t it too late for that?”
I bit my lip, thinking. If I was wrong, I’d be wrecking a vital chance to reach the heart of the terrorist network. If I was right, I could be putting Shardul at unacceptable risk. “Can you plead illness or something? At least if you get away....”
“No. That will rouse suspicions even if there’s nothing going on.” He regarded me calmly. “I trust your instincts.”
“Thanks,” I said sourly. “Okay, follow my lead. I need a chance to assess him again.”
We used the facilities and walked out. Sanjeev paced nervously by his vehicle. I read him carefully. If he was about to betray us, I would sense fear, maybe anger. But all I got was nervousness—and embarrassment, which was odd. Kind of what I’d expect if he was about to ask for a favour.
“Let’s do it,” I muttered. Shardul gave me the slightest nod.
“All ready,” I said, smiling broadly at him. “Leave our auto here?”
“Yes, it wi
ll be safe. Come along.”
But as we came alongside his auto, he gave us a sickly look. “I’m sorry, but they’ve insisted on...making sure you don’t know where we’re going.”
My instincts did a one-eighty, and my leg muscles bunched as I prepared to grab Shardul and run for it. “How?”
“A safe drug. It will make you sleep for several hours. I’m sorry...I know it’s a lot to ask.”
“It certainly is,” Shardul snapped. “Why wasn’t this mentioned, Sanjeev?”
“They were afraid you would refuse to meet with them. Please, Shardul, the drug is quite safe. I checked it out. Here, look for yourself, but be discreet, of course.”
He handed over a small hypospray capsule from his pocket. Shardul looked at the label, then handed it to me. “He’s right,” I said. “It’s a common sedative. Do you have any allergies?” Shardul shook his head. “If the drug is what it claims to be, then I think it’s okay. Sanjeev, you realise people will see you drive us away.”
“Yes. If it proves to be other than I have said—if harm comes to you from it—then I will bear the consequences, as the Seeker teaches.”
That would have been more convincing if he wasn’t acting as the conduit for a dangerous bunch of people prepared to kill and maim to get what they wanted, but by his own twisted logic, killing fellow udawathei probably would be wrong. “Then on your head,” I said. “Shardul?”
“It would indeed be a grave stain on the spirit. But I trust him.” He certainly didn’t, but he said he trusted me, and I thought that was no lie.
“So how do we do this?” I asked.
Sanjeev’s emotions brightened as we capitulated, and he became almost animated. “Climb in, put on your harnesses, and I will inject you. You will regain consciousness quite naturally in four hours or so. I truly believe it to be safe, Gafur.”
I shrugged and got into the rear seat of his auto. Shardul sat on the other side and harnessed up, his expression giving nothing away. “Comfortable?” Sanjeev asked, still radiating raw nervousness.
“We’re fine,” Shardul said. “Please get on with it.”
Sanjeev leaned in, hypospray in hand, but before he could apply it to Shardul’s neck, I grabbed his wrist. “Any harm comes to him, my spirit will haunt yours for the rest of your life.”
He paled. “I understand. I would never hurt either of you, I swear by the Spirit and the Seeker’s heart.”
Pretty powerful oath. “Okay.”
I let him go and he injected Shardul, the spray making a tiny hiss. I stared steadily at him, though my chest was tight with fear, as he put the spray to my neck. Udawatha or not, I bloody mean it, Sanjeev.
~~~~~~~~
I roused slowly, thick-headed and disoriented, taking too long to work out where I was. When I did, I turned to Shardul. His utter stillness sent fear shooting through me, until I touched his neck and felt the strong pulse there, and saw his chest rising and falling evenly. Just asleep. Just as well for Sanjeev.
It was still raining, and the clouds had deepened. My watch told me we were nearly three hours from nightfall, but it was so dark in the auto I had to use the backlight on my watch to read the time. In front Sanjeev had lost the embarrassed nervousness and all I sensed was concentration and frustration, no doubt at the weather and the slow pace. The auto wasn’t making much speed.
I took Shardul’s hand and squeezed. After a few seconds, he shifted, and his eyes popped open. He started to say something, but then stopped. “We survived,” he said in a rough voice. He glanced down at our hands. I let go unhurriedly. “How long?”
“Nearly five hours. Maybe we needed the nap.”
He snorted, then tapped on the back of Sanjeev’s seat. “How much further?”
Sanjeev jumped in surprise. “Ah, you’re awake. And well?”
“Yes. Are we there?”
“No. The weather has closed roads. I’m heading to a...a friend’s farm for the evening. We’ll resume our journey in the morning.”
I detected no deception, only more aggravation, and now, some fatigue. “Fine,” Shardul said, sounding relaxed. “I just need to be back in time for work next week.”
“You will be, I promise. It will be another hour or so before we get there, if the roads are still open.”
The rain continued to torrent down, but the darkness was as much from the heavy vegetation lining the road as the clouds. We were in the middle of nowhere, judging by the road. I hoped Captain Largosen was tracking me like he said.
Within half an hour, the auto had dropped to a crawl, and ten minutes later, came to a complete stop. “The road’s completely flooded,” Sanjeev turned to tell us. “I can call my friends and ask them to come meet us, but we’ll have to travel by foot.”
“So they have a vehicle? Why don’t we just wait for them to collect us?” I asked.
“It’s only a cart, drawn by kolijas. They can’t use it in these conditions. We will have to walk at least two kilometres, but they will catch up to us on the way.”
“Great. I didn’t bring any wet gear. You?” I asked Shardul.
“Only my coat. But a little rain won’t hurt you.”
“I suggest you leave your packs,” Sanjeev said. “The less that gets wet, the easier it will be.”
I would be the first to admit that I wasn’t one for roughing it, and the idea of walking in drenching rain wearing nothing but a light coat over my street clothes didn’t appeal at all. But Shardul was no better off, and he wasn’t bitching, so I had my manly reputation to consider. “Walk in the park, eh?” I said. Shardul smiled at me in a way that told me I was fooling no one, especially him.
The rain soaked us to the skin in seconds, and though the ambient temperature was warm enough, the rain was cold. Weeks locked away in hospitals and apartments was no training for this. Sanjeev held a torch for us. “This way. There’s a path beside the road once we get past this.”
We had to wade nearly waist high through muddy water to cross the flooded section, which was a completely disgusting activity. At least I was only ruining borrowed boots but I hoped the magnetic seal over the concealed cavities was watertight. Shardul clung to my shoulder, and I clung to Sanjeev’s, grateful the flood wasn’t a running stream so we weren’t fighting a current. The flickering light from the torch did little to illuminate the way, so progress was made more by feel than by sight. I wasn’t the only one who heaved a sigh or relief when we made it to the other side.
“Spirit save me, that was nasty,” Shardul muttered.
“I’m sorry,” Sanjeev said, actually wringing his hands. “This has all been a great nuisance, I know.”
“Can we go?” I said, cranky at the rain in my face and on my bare head. “I’m cold.”
“Yes, of course. This way.”
There was a path, as promised, but a narrow one mainly made of rocks and slippery mud. Time and again one of us skidded, all too often landing butt or knees down in the muck. “Your friends better have a change of clothes,” I yelled at Sanjeev, ahead of me.
“Yes, yes, they will. Just move as fast as you can, Gafur.”
“I’m not exactly loitering, you bastard,” I said for Shardul’s ears, and was rewarded by a quiet snort.
The weather was deteriorating, and continuous thunder made conversation virtually impossible. Sanjeev was deathly afraid, and even Shardul, usually the soul of calmness, radiated uneasiness. “The sooner we’re under cover the better,” he bellowed into my ear.
“Agreed. Where the hell are those people?”
Sanjeev was forging on ahead, leaving us to get on as best we could. The wind grew stronger and the thunder more ominous by the second. Even a city boy like me could tell that meant trouble.
Lightning struck mere metres from us, the explosion and blinding light battering us to the ground in reflex. “Shit! Should we get under the trees?”
“No, that’s the worst thing to do,” Shardul yelled. “Just run...and pray.”
“Funny man
!” I shouted back, even as we picked ourselves up and tried to put some speed on. We caught up to Sanjeev and grabbed his arm, because fear had paralysed the man and he couldn’t seem to comprehend the danger we were in.
Another lightning strike, a little further away. Did that mean the storm was passing? I cursed my ignorance of natural phenomena and clung tightly to Shardul and Sanjeev, for protection as much as to protect.
Great. Now another flood blocked the path. “Hold onto him,” I shouted to Shardul. “I’ll see how deep it goes.”
I grabbed the torch from Sanjeev’s hand, and edged carefully into the black pool. I slipped but managed to keep my feet. I reached midpoint, where the water only came to mid-calf. “Looks okay! Let me get to the other side, and you can come over!”
Shardul waved to show he’d heard. I pressed on and reached the other side of the flood without incident. “It’s fine. Just slippery.”
I held the torch to try and give the two of them some light, though the torch was pathetically weak and the driving gusts of wind and rain meant the beam did little good. What I wouldn’t have given for my service flashlight right now.
Thunder cracked, and more lightning flashed way too close. “Hurry!” I yelled.
They were nearly clear of the water when a sound like a thousand gunshots went off in my left ear, and I threw my arm over my eyes to protect them against the flare. Lightning had struck a tree about ten metres from me. I was just thinking, “Good thing it was too wet to cause a forest fire,” when Shardul bellowed, “Watch out! Ja...Gafur! It’s falling!”
I twisted, looked up, and too late realised what he’d seen. I ran, but the damn mud and treacherous stones sent me sprawling. “Run!” Shardul screamed, but before I could get up, a giant’s fist smacked me across the head, and drove me into the dark.
Chapter 8
I came to in pain and highly confused as to why I was wet and being pelted with water. Someone shone a light in my face and I yelped. “Thank the Spirit,” the someone said. “He’s awake.”
“Sh-Shardul?”
“Yes, it’s me. Lie still. You have a head injury.”
Different Senses Page 54
