Laldasa (29 page)

“I'd trust Govi's sight—it's pretty sharp. He said the couriers were delivering, not picking up.”

“But delivering what?”

“I don't know. I do know that some of our Port Zone Sarngin are on Badan-Devaki's payroll. The question is, how many and at what level of command?”

“How can we find out?”

“I don't know, Ana. I've never done anything like this before.”

Ana glanced at him. He seemed suddenly uncertain. A chill skittered down her back. “You're jeopardizing yourself, aren't you—doing this?”

Jaya smiled. “Don't worry, Ana. I'm not jeopardizing anything.”

The headquarters of the Port Zone Sarngin was in a neighborhood of modern, business-like splendor. Square, gleaming buildings of stone and glass lined up along the broad avenue—the lairs of officialdom.

Jaya parked the car before a particularly solid-looking block of stone with a pair of bronze eagles flanking the heavy, gilt doors. The massive birds glowered menacingly over the street as if they took their role as Sarngin symbol of Law and Order very seriously indeed. Their wings were open and arched, metal pinions nearly touching over the doorway.

“Impressive,” said Ana, peering at them through Jaya's window. “Our Sarngin in Onan have a conservative little dugout with a nice flagpole. They replace the Eagle flag every month—twice in Chaitra—and the flagpole comes down at least three times a year. They'd love this. Of course, it would be entirely impractical in the Kedar outback.”

“So, it would seem, is the flagpole.”

She shrugged. “We have to be able to tell the Sarngin dugout from all the other dugouts in Onan. But you may be right—maybe the Onan Sarngin should get some statues. Of course, they'd have to have the wings folded or they might blow away.”

Jaya shook his head. “Eagles with folded wings would hardly present the image of tireless vigilance-“ He broke off and gave her a severe scowl. “You're obnoxious when you're tired. Didn't your mother and father ever warn you not to tell tales?”

Ana knew she missed looking innocent by a wide margin. “You don't believe me about the flagpole?”

Jaya unsnapped his harness. “I don't believe a one thousand pound bronze eagle can fly.”

“You've never been to the Kedar. Onan is at the foot of Mount Amurpradha—merely at the rim of the High Plains. The wind gauge is a boulder on a hundred pound chain.”

Jaya grimaced and popped his door open. It swung up and back with wing-like grace as if saluting the feathered guardians.

“Stay in the car,” he warned. “The air system is on and the vents are open. Keep the doors and windows closed and locked. Don't get out for anything or anyone. Don't open the doors until I get back.”

She watched him disappear into the headquarters. Wings. Wings seemed to have new significance all of a sudden. Wings on guardian birds, wings on crowns that became wings to escape nightmare dangers. Protection, status, freedom—an odd lot. She sighed and settled back to wait.

oOo

The Sarngin headquarters was very much as Jaya expected—muted and concise. Every angle was exact, every surface gleaming. The only color in the place was in the uniforms of the officers. The Patrolmen were in gray, their sergeants in black.

There were two officers approaching him already. They seemed pleased to have noticed him. He was pleased to have been noticed.

“Nathu Rai,” said the senior of the two. He wore the nearly iridescent purple of a Division Chief. Both offered the military version of the respectful greeting—one quarter benediction, three quarters salute.

“We are honored,” said the lesser officer—a Patrol Chief. “How may we assist the Nathu Rai Sarojin?”

“I wish to consult with your Commander about a matter of great concern to his district.”

“I am Division Chief Varaza,” said the D.C. “Perhaps I can be of some assistance.”

Jaya weighed the advisability of revealing any more, then said, “It seems the merchants near the Spaceport are concerned about the growing number of thieves roaming the streets. I've heard reports that the crime rate is up around the Warrows—a lot of Avasan tourists are being mugged and then arrested as yevetha. An unhealthy diplomatic situation.”

The two Sarngin exchanged frowning glances.

“I've noticed no increase in complaints from the area,” said the Division Chief. “Have you heard anything, Kers?”

The Patrol Chief shook his head slowly. “The Warrows, you said, Nathu Rai. If I knew the neighborhood ... ”

“Dockrow,” said Jaya.

“Ah! That's not my territory.” There was relief in the man's face. “Perhaps I could-“

“Yes. Patrol Chief Kers is correct,” interrupted the D.C. “That isn't his territory. I believe you want to talk to Patrol Chief Ranjit ... or to me. I'm his superior.”

“I believe I already stated what I wanted, Chief Varaza. I want to speak to your superior. Is the Zone Commander in?”

A dark anger glinted in Varaza's eyes. “I'm sure I can assist you-“ he started to say, but Patrol Chief Kers was already speaking.

“I saw the Commander not five minutes ago in his office, Nathu Rai,” he offered, and the D.C.'s face darkened to an unbecoming shade of purple that clashed dreadfully with his uniform.

Jaya smiled. “I'll see him now—if he can spare the time.”

Division Chief Varaza smiled in return, his color returning, more or less, to normal. “I'm sure he can. If you will follow me, Nathu Rai.”

A glance in the P.C.'s direction effectively dismissed him.

Jaya followed the Division Chief down a broad central corridor toward the rear of the building. The click and clatter of myriad heels on the polished gray floor sounded like a horde of summer locusts. As they crossed the large common office area given to Patrolmen and their immediate superiors, young Sarngin eyed him with unabashed envy and admiration.

How naive. They could only envy the status that went with the Sarojin tiliq between his brows or admire a reputation for ... whatever it was he had a reputation for. They had no idea what kind of man lived behind all that.
 

He was escorted to the glass-fronted office of Zone Commander Mall Gar and waited patiently while Division Chief Varaza went inside to announce him. In a moment he was back, holding the gleaming metal and glass door open for Jaya's entrance. The Chief glanced quickly from his Commander to Jaya, then left, closing the door behind him.

“Nathu Rai.” Commander Gar bowed deeply, then gestured toward a less-than-comfortable looking couch across from his desk. “Please make yourself comfortable,” he said and gave the couch a rueful look. “If you can.”

A man with a sense of humor, Jaya observed. He seated himself and glanced around the office. It was neither austere nor opulent, and was tasteful, if muted, in its appointments—a thing which Gar's deep crimson uniform jacket more than made up for.

The pictographs on one wall told him of a man's career—graduation from the Academy of Military Sciences in Nawahr, awards for marksmanship, the Badge of a master level Logician. On the wall opposite, a different tale; this one told by a tripaneled antique tapestry of delicate and lush beauty. And behind the desk, a wall full of books.

Jaya took that all at a glance and turned his attention to the man. “This is quite an elegant office, Commander. You have excellent taste.”

Gar's eyes widened in apparent surprise. “I am sure it can't be as elegant as what you're accustomed to, Nathu Rai.” His speech was precise and carried a slight Norther accent.

“Elegance,” observed Jaya, “is a function of taste and self-expression, not of wealth. Unfortunately, wealth and taste are rare partners.”

Commander Gar's response was a twitch at the corner of his thin mouth and a slight jerk of his head. “What may I do for the mahesa?” he asked.

Jaya draped his cloak over the back of the couch and arranged himself to look relaxed.

“The mahesa,” he said, “has been informed that muggings are becoming commonplace in the Port Zone. Especially in the Warrows.”

Gar frowned and nodded, his hollow cheeks drawing in even further. A thick fringe of curly hair screened his eyes so that Jaya couldn't read them.

“The tourist areas are always the most attractive to criminals,” he said.

“According to my sources, they've become suddenly more attractive.”

The frown deepened. “What do your ... sources say, exactly?”

“That attacks on tourists are occurring with growing regularity.”

“I've heard no such reports. I assure you, Nathu Rai, if there were more muggings being reported I would have heard of it.”

“I didn't say they were being reported, Commander. But they are being observed.”

“By whom?”

Jaya shook his head. “I'm not at liberty to say, but I consider my sources unimpeachable.”

Gar stood and circled his desk, obviously disturbed. “If they're not being reported ...
 
Why are they not being reported?”

Jaya met the other man's impressive gray gaze. “Because the people being attacked can't go to the Sarngin without being arrested.”

Gar made an impatient gesture with one hand. “Speak plainly, Nathu Rai. I have no aptitude for mysteries.”

Jaya sloughed the relaxed pose and stood face to face with the Sarngin Commander.

“Neither have I, Gar-sama. But I'm in the middle of one nonetheless. Speak plainly? I'm not sure I can. Quite frankly, I'm not sure I can trust you.”

He moved away from Gar toward the interoffice window and gazed across the outer room. Division Chief Varaza and another officer were involved in conversation in a doorway across the commons. They both glanced toward Gar's office, saw they were being watched and glanced away again.

Jaya chewed his lip. Who to trust? And how far to trust them?

He turned his gaze to the Commander's reflection in the glass. The frown of deep perplexity and growing impatience hadn't altered.

“I'll try to speak plainly, Commander Gar. When I can do so without jeopardizing my informants.” He turned his back on the window. “Here's the scenario: A young, attractive Avasan gets off a starcoach at the Kasi spaceport. Somewhere in the Port Zone, he or she is set upon by thieves. The thieves aren't after money or jewelry, unless it's readily gotten. They take only leaf. A matter of minutes after they're gone, a team of Sarngin come by and take the brand new yevetha to a dalali where they are processed and sold.”

Gar studied him for a moment, then said, “You are suggesting this is no coincidence.”

“These attacks are not taking place out in plain sight, Commander. One that I know of occurred in an alley; one happened in a side street rowhouse. In that case, the Sarngin passed the thieves on their way to make the arrest. They went right to the house, Commander Gar. Right to it.”

Gar's expression was grim. “You seem very well-informed. You said ‘young, attractive Avasans.' You believe they're being singled out for this treatment?”

“I do. They have no cree. Once their leaf is gone, their id is gone. Instant yevetha. Instant fodder for the dalali.”

“Yes, the dalali. A particular one, you think? One you could put a name to?”

“Badan-Devaki.”

Commander Gar moved to the bookshelf behind his desk and touched a small control panel. A large vicom screen came to life just above it. He fingered a menu item on the screen, then another. A map of the Port Zone filled the screen. He tapped the southern corner and the map shifted to show a portion of the Silk District. Another selection caused an irregular array of red squares to appear on the map.

“The Badan-Devaki is here, is it not?” Gar pointed to a red square situated along a broad boulevard.

Jaya nodded.

“Well, here are the Warrows.” The tracing finger moved south into the Port Zone. “As you can see, the Badan-Devaki is the closest dalali. It's normal procedure to take yevetha to the brokerage closest to the point of arrest.”

Jaya studied the map for a moment, then moved to plant a finger among a warren of minor streets. “One attack took place here. The victim still ended up at Badan-Devaki. The closest dalali is this one ... ” He pointed at a red square to the east. “The Blue Iris. I suspect the Badan-Devaki is paying to have das made for them, Commander Gar, and that some of your men are on their payroll. If that's so, wouldn't you like to know which ones?”

“Indeed I would, Nathu Rai Sarojin. And I assure you, I intend to find out who they are. I also assure you that their orders did not come from this office. If you could introduce me to your sources—let me question them-“

Jaya shook his head, turned back to the sofa and retrieved his cloak.

“Forgive me, Commander, if I hesitate to trust you. But I can't take that chance. Not yet.”