Laldasa (31 page)

Read Laldasa Online

Authors: Maya Kaathryn Bohnhoff

Tags: #science fiction, #ebook, #Laldasa, #Maya Kaathryn Bohnhoff, #Book View Cafe

BOOK: Laldasa
12.25Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“Don't bet your life on it.”

He kept moving. A sizzling bolt of light shot from the gun's muzzle and sliced past his right elbow, turning the fabric of his jacket to cinder. He grabbed his arm and dropped into the vegetation, howling in pain.

Ana was on her feet, swinging toward Jaya and his two guardians. One of them made a dash for her just as the wounded man recovered himself and drew his gun. Faced with a two sided attack, Ana leapt backwards against the wall.

In the momentary burst of confusion, Jaya parted company with his distracted captor. A well-aimed kick threw the thug off balance, but he still had the knife. He thrust it at Jaya's face, forcing him back and away from where Ana dealt with her two attackers.

oOo

Distracted, Jaya tried to edge around and away from the slashing blade. The next thing he knew he was on his back in the brush, fending it from his throat. He heard the crack and sizzle of a lightning pistol and a shriek of singed agony. Above him, the knife-wielding thug swore and tore out of his grasp, leaving him to wallow in the brush. Someone ran past him, shouting.

He heaved himself up and staggered toward the car, trying to focus his eyes. Ana was there, moving toward him through the tall growth. She reached him in what seemed like hours, her hands searching for wounds. He pushed her hands aside and gathered her into a fierce embrace, kissing her hard enough to bruise his lips. She responded in kind.

“Idiot!” he called her. “Why didn't you just drive to the House for help?”

“I wasn't about to leave you out here alone.”

“Stupid. You could have got Ravi-“

“I did get Ravi.” She pulled away from him and looked over her shoulder. Behind her, Ravi held a stun-fuzzy on a huddled heap wearing a crumpled hood.

Jaya blinked. His arm around Ana's shoulders for support, he moved unsteadily to Ravi's side.

His friend's face was a study in anger, amazement, and anxiety. He grasped Jaya's arm with his free hand.

“Are you all right? You're bleeding.”

Jaya shook his head. “I'm fine—just muddled.”

“I'm deeply sorry the others got away-“ Ravi jerked his head toward the empty road behind Jaya's car. “-but we've got this one at least.”

“And just who is this one?” asked Jaya. He tugged the hood from the lolling head. The face was unfamiliar and would have been even if Ravi's stunner hadn't deprived it of all expression.

“You don't know him, either,” said Ana, disappointed. She turned her head. “Ravi?”

“No, Rani. I've never seen him before.”

Jaya sighed. “No. That would have been too easy. Well, let's see if the Sarngin can get anything out of him.”

oOo

Jaya exhaled explosively and winced. “How long do I have to wear these bandages?”

The Asvin Suhrdam chuckled. “Until the wounds heal, Nathu Rai. A matter of, oh ... Ram-ji's good time.”

He closed his kit and winked at Mina, who stood next to her grandson's couch, leaning a bit heavily on her cane.

“I'll be back in three days to check up, so make sure he doesn't slip out of them before then.”

“Rest assured, Asvin Suhrdam. I shall do so,” Mina assured him.

The Asvin kissed Jivinta's hand and left, humming.

She gazed after him fondly. “Such a man. I do believe I shall have him to dinner Kistn'eve. He's only fifteen years my junior. Might make a good match.”

Jaya refastened his shirt, the pain-killer the doctor had given him making both his fingers and his mind slow and clumsy. “You'll have to ask him to marry you then. He'd never presume on a Rani of the House Sarojin—that would not be rita.”

“I shall ask him ... if I decide it's him I want.”

“Jivinta, you're incorrigible.”

The old woman snorted. “And you're not? Getting yourself beaten, stabbed-“

“Just a little gouged.”

“Just a little gouged,” she mimicked. “Idiot.”

“What was I supposed to do—agree to vote as they demanded?”

“Yes! Tell them you'll do what they want—then don't.”

“That would have been a lie. Cowardly.”

Jivinta's pale eyes widened. “Well, you wouldn't want to lie to thieves and assassins, would you?”

“I did lie to them.” Jaya shivered. “'Ranidasa,' he called her. I pray he never knows how close he was to the truth.”

“Ah! Praying now, are we? It's about time.”

“She's terrified of me, you know.”

Jivinta Mina took the change of subject—and bald admission—in stride. “Do you think she has no reason.”

“I would never touch her against her will.”

“Who said you would? She's Rohin, Jaya. She has made a covenant. She will take one husband as a lover and no others. She is not a woman to be taken lightly, nor will she take a man lightly. She is all or nothing, Gauri. Make no mistakes with her.”

“If she's all or nothing, then why is she afraid of me? Afraid of losing herself, she said. What does that mean? I don't want her to lose herself.”

Mina eyed him wryly. “Are you really that naive or are you merely pretending to be? No, don't answer. It must be the Asvin's potion making you so dense. She's not afraid of you; she's afraid of herself. She's a bhakta, not an Avatar—not even a saint. Her will is strong, but it's not inflexible. She's afraid of her own weakness.”

Jaya let his exasperation out on a long breath. “Now I'm a weakness. By tomorrow I'll be a sin. What do I do, avoid her?”

“Do you want to?”

“No.”

“Then don't. Talk to her, Jaya. Don't let the mystery of her bhakti be a wall between you when it doesn't need to be.”

Jaya shook his head. “The biggest mystery right now is how Ravi knew we were in trouble.”

His Jivinta smiled. “I'm not sure you'll believe the answer.”

“Now you're going to tell me Ana's a mistress of the Jadu, I suppose.”

The smile deepened. “She's Rohin. All true Rohin have a little of the witch about them.”

“How is it you know so much about the Rohin?”

“Ah, well. There is a little of the witch about me, too.”

Jivinta Mina turned and moved regally to the door, where she paused.

“There is a Rohin text: THE ONE SOUGHT. In it is a parable. The Parable of the Devi's Garden. If you were to read it, you might understand Ana a little better.”

“And where can I find this obscure text?”

“In our library.”

She enjoyed his surprise for a moment then left.

oOo

Ana stared at the window. Against its dark, glossy panes firelight skimmed and slipped. Tongues of flame and tiny cinders danced, jinn-like, in a ghostly replica of the room behind her.

“Sri Ana?” Ravi appeared, translucent in the rippling window world.

She turned her head. “Please, Ravi, call me ‘Ana.' I'm not a Deva.”

“Ah, but you should be! Sri Ana, Deva of Fearlessness.”

Ana laughed and shook her head, gesturing for him to stop.

“No, it's true. I felt it. You have the Jadu—the Magic.”

“Then, doesn't that make me a witch or something?”

“Jivinta Mina just told me all Rohin are witches.” Jaya came into the small salon, closing the door behind him.

Ana came to her feet. “You're all right?”

“I'll wear these bandages until Jivinta is finished courting our Asvin, but other than that ... ” He patted his ribs gently. “It hurts.”

Ana resisted the temptation to go to him—to offer comfort. Reflexively, she made a tiny stroking gesture.

A startled expression flickered through his eyes. “I'll feel better tomorrow.”

“You're not going to the Vrinda Varma session, Jaya Rai,” said Ravi.

Jaya's brows rose. “Of course I am. And I'm going to report our little ... scuffle. I want to see if I can bring this Worker's Coalition into open discussion—get some kind of reaction from the KNC.” He touched a bruised cheek gingerly. “Now I know what Bel Adivaram meant by ‘approached.'”

“Pardon, Jaya Rai, but what reaction do you expect from the KNC?”

“I'm not sure. I just have a feeling, I guess. Duran Prakash applies pressure from one direction, and these thugs apply it from another. Is it just coincidence—two parties with the same intent, using different tactics to make the same point—or is it ... ?”

“Conspiracy?” supplied Ana.

“It could be coincidence,” observed Ravi. “The link between the Coalition and the Consortium is not necessarily an illegal one.”

“I suppose it could be, but I'm not convinced of it.”

“What do we do next?” asked Ana.

“We sleep.”

Ana opened her mouth to protest.

“Tomorrow,” added Jaya, “is the earliest we can expect to hear anything from the Sarngin. Unfortunately, Ravi's stun-fuzzy was a little too potent.”

“I have no regrets,” said Ravi.

“I have a few.” Jaya glanced pointedly at Ana.

She ignored him and headed for the door. “If there's nothing more I can accomplish waking, I shall try to achieve something in dreams. Good night, mahesa, Ravi.”

The door closed behind her.

“I believe I shall retire early, too,” said Ravi. “I want my eyes to be sharp tomorrow, in case there are more of these WoCoa people in the bushes.”

“Ravi.” Jaya stopped him as he reached for the door handle. “How did you know we were in trouble? Or were you just on your way out?”

Ravi looked amused. “On my way out—carrying a weapon? No, mahesa. I came because Ana called me.”

“What do you mean—called you?”

Ravi considered that in silence for a moment.

“I was in the kitchen with Mata. Suddenly, I knew you were in trouble. I even ... saw you—for a moment only—as if in a dream. I got a stunner from the lockup and I went to the lower gates.” He shrugged. “All was just as I had seen it. I stunned the one man—he would have shot Ana if I hadn't. She burned the other. There is really nothing else I can tell you.” He gave Jaya a thorough once over through narrowed eyes. “You won't be up too late, Jaya Rai.”

Jaya shook his head, contemplating the fire.

“That was not a question.”

Jaya glanced at him and smiled. “I know.” He waved Ravi away. “Go on.”

Ravi smiled. “Good night, then.”

“Good night,” Jaya said and went back to his study of the flames.

— CHAPTER 13 —

“Report on project AS17B.”

The vicom terminal beeped. “Voice identification accepted,” it responded. “Project AS17B code Black. Do you wish visual report, oral report, or hard copy?”

“Visual.”

“Reporting.”

The system displayed the report's contents on the vicom screen, oblivious to the displeasure in its master's face. Across from him, Duran Prakash looked up questioningly from his papers.

“The Sarngin have one of Subham's idiots!”

“What? What happened?”

“Evidently, Nathu Rai Sarojin and his Rani proved to be too much for them. The others escaped. Small consolation.”

“But perhaps the wheel has been turned,” suggested Prakash. “Perhaps our Nathu Rai has been sufficiently unsettled.”

Nigudha Bhrasta looked as if he had swallowed something disagreeable. “He was slightly injured. I should thank the Avatar he wasn't killed. Fools.”

“What will you do?”

“First, let me tell you what you must do. You must contrive to find out if our crude persuasion had any effect. Damn! We must have the Sarojin vote, Duran. Without it we stand no chance at all of swaying the Vrinda Varma. If those old cretins will vote with the Taj House, then we must have the Taj House in our palm.” He cupped his hand before Prakash's grim face.

“And the thug? What if he speaks?”

“That's easily taken care of. See to Sarojin. I'll deal with our dim-witted associates.”

“Are we now contemplating a return to subtlety?” asked Prakash. He despised the use of violence in these matters; he felt it showed weakness and naiveté. Not that he'd ever say as much to his employer. It did, however, afford him a certain spiritual and moral superiority. An offset to material power.

“It seems we must. At least, once we have seen to our current problem.”

oOo

Jaya entered the Assembly chamber intentionally late. It gave him an opportunity to watch the faces in the KNC box as he picked his way to his seat. There was some reaction to his split lip, bruised cheek, and bandaged neck, but nothing he could honestly read as anything more than curiosity. He paid closest attention to the reaction to the Chairman of the Kasi-Nawahr Board. Nigudha Bhrasta was a big cadaver of a man with eyes like steel ballbearings—eyes that were perpetually narrowed. He had, Jaya realized wryly, no expression to read.

Other books

Confidential: Expecting! by Jackie Braun
The Playboy of Rome by Jennifer Faye
First Chances by Kant, Komal
A por todas by Libertad Morán
Cotton Comes to Harlem by Chester Himes
Heroin Chronicles by Jerry Stahl
Dead Babies by Martin Amis
Fore! Play by Bill Giest
Drowning Barbie by Frederick Ramsay