Different Senses (73 page)

“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 will 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?”