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Authors: Maya Kaathryn Bohnhoff

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BOOK: Laldasa
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Prakash paused to hear the answer.

“Because, of course, they become yevetha most easily, do they not? No cree.”

Prakash hurried away down the hall to the Court Parlor before the old Vadin might see him. He was waiting there for Melantha, sipping wine when she arrived several minutes later. He set down his drink and came to take her hands as she stepped into the room, leading her solicitously to her throne. He liked to see her there. It reminded him how important their liaison was.

When she was seated, he knelt at her knee and gazed into her face. “My dear, you look troubled. Has the Vadin Adivaram brought you bad news?”

“He has brought distressing news. It seems my ‘noble' son has gotten himself embroiled in the affairs of some Avasan yevetha at the behest of his so-called ‘cousin.'”

“So-called?”

She shook her head and waved him aside. “Ah, the girl is a gaur-mouse, I'm sure of it. Snuggling up to a powerful relation.”

Prakash raised his eyebrows. “The Vadin came to warn you about that?”

“No, the Vadin came to warn me that he suspects Jaya has angered or frightened some very unscrupulous people by threatening their livelihood, which has something to do with manufacturing yevetha from Avasan visitors so they can be sold to local dalalis. That's what I inferred, at any rate. He ... he said he was afraid for Jaya's life. He thought I might be able to influence Jaya—convince him to leave the matter to the Sarngin.” She laughed. “Can you imagine that? He wants me to influence my son!”

“I take it he has tried to make the Nathu Rai see reason and failed?”

The Rani nodded. “There's nothing he could do, of course, except suggest politely and with all due respect that Jaya not endanger himself ... or interfere in the Vadin's jurisdiction.”

Prakash gazed at her for a moment, losing his train of thought in the way the soft lighting in the room reflected in the silky, woody sheen of her hair. He shook away a wave of hunger and reached up to touch her temple.

“Melantha, your voice is as cool as moonlight, but I would be a fool to believe this façade of serenity. Can't you tell me, just once, what you're really feeling?”

She met his eyes for perhaps the first time since he'd known her. He could see the anxiety in them as clearly as if it had been written there. Her guard was slipping, finally.

“I'm frightened, Duran,” she said. “Jaya is beyond my reach. In the last five years, he's slipped further and further away from me. Day by day. Inch by inch. I've built my wall; he's built his. I can't talk to him without it turning into an argument. We're adversaries locked in an uneasy truce, and even that collapses from time to time. And now ... God, if I come to him pleading concern, he'll laugh in my face—and with every right. What do I do, Duran? What can I say to him?”

A tear raced down her cheek, leaving a dark trail.

Prakash was astounded. Reflexively, he moved to catch the tear before it fell from her chin.

“Hold me,” she said, and it was not a command, it was a plea.

oOo

Bel Adivaram arrived home and checked the messages on his private vicom. There was one—an audio message. The woman's voice said, “Bel, we must meet immediately. Tonight, if possible. It's urgent.”

He checked the time. It wasn't late. He supposed a trip across town wouldn't be too much of an imposition, especially if there was some sort of compensation at the end of it.

He took his aircar and drove himself to a car park in the Silk District. He took a lift basket down to the sub-level and strolled the private, well-lit promenade that ran beneath the street. Once across, he selected another lift basket and emerged into a small parlor at the rear of the Badan-Devaki foyer. He'd barely seated himself in the sumptuous little room when Kareen Devaki appeared in response to the sensor that had chimed his presence.

“Well, Kareen, what brings me out this evening?”

“Something we should discuss privately. My parlor?” She gestured toward the lift.

He rose and followed her, frankly admiring the way her body caused the fabric of her gown to ripple and flow. He began to have delightful thoughts about her and was disappointed when it turned out that Ashur Badan was waiting for them in her private quarters.

“So,” he said, ensconcing himself in a large cup chair, “it's business after all, is it?”

“I said it was urgent,” Kareen told him.

“Yes, you did. And what is it, my dear, that seems so urgent to you?”

“This.” She handed him the id necklace; watched carefully as he turned it over in his hands and read the inscription.

His face went through a rapid series of expressions. Finally, he looked up at her.

“You think this woman is a member of Rokh Nadim's family?”

“A distinct possibility, wouldn't you say?” asked Kareen. “Does he have a daughter?”

Adivaram nodded. “Yes. Yes, he does. I don't know her name, but I can certainly find out.” His eyes glinted. “This is incredible! Where is she?”

Kareen made an uncharacteristically uncertain gesture. “We're not sure. The thieves didn't get this to us immediately. All of the females we processed that week have been placed.”

Adivaram paled. “You mean, you've lost her?”

“No, no, Vadin!” Ashur leapt to reassure him. “It's simply a matter of tracking our sales for that week and contacting the owner. I'm sure we can find her.”

Adivaram nodded. “Hmm. An inconvenience then, not a disaster. Well, let's find out if we even need to bother finding this girl. I'll need to use a vicom terminal.”

“This way.” Kareen led him to the terminal in her private office.

Personal information on the AGIM Chairman was harder to come by than he expected, but in about twenty minutes time, Bel Adivaram was looking at a list of names culled from the Avasan Census Base—they belonged to the members of Rokh Nadim's personal compound. He requested the names of only immediate family members and was rewarded with a list of six.

“There!” exclaimed Kareen, pointing over his shoulder at the display. “Anala Nadim. His daughter!”

Bel looked up at her and smiled. “Now, you must find her.”

— CHAPTER 15 —

Lila seemed very pleased to see Ravi again and made much of him when he came by her kiosk. She took his arm and pulled it intimately around her waist, then walked him to her wagon, calling to one of her co-workers to carry on without her.

“I believe this young man wants me to read his stars and stones,” she laughed and led him inside.

Taffik Pritam was alone in the wagon, seated at the small table. As they greeted each other, Lila moved to pour out some tea. Pritam removed a data wafer from his wrist bag and placed it on the table before Ravi.

“The list of missing Avasans is on this wafer. It has now grown to over fifty names. I wish you Tara's fortune in finding them.”

Ravi took the wafer and slipped it into an inner pocket. “I have a message from Ana,” he said. “She wants desperately to see her father.”

Pritam frowned. “It could be dangerous for her to come here. Dangerous for both of them.”

“We have an idea, sama, of how she might come here if not inconspicuously, at least safely.”

They discussed the plan over their tea, coming to agree on a simple sequence of events. At last, Ravi rose to leave, but found Lila blocking his path, a blue bowl full of small stones in her hands.

“You must let me cast your fortune, Ravi-sama.”

Ravi's face suffused with color. “I am Ravidas, memsa,” he said. “I don't wish to cause offense, but I don't believe the future lies in either stones or stars.”

Lila's dark eyes glinted. “Neither do I,” she told him. “But I do believe it lies in each being's kriya-sakti. Your soul has intimations of your future, Ravi. I can read only what your soul allows me to read.”

She held the bowl out to him. “Choose five stones. One each for body, spirit and soul; two for Ram-ji.”

He hesitated a moment, then reached into the bowl and selected a handful of small, smooth stones.

“Now, hold them in your hand—tightly.”

He did as she directed, glancing obliquely at Taffik Pritam, who sat at the table nursing his third cup of tea. The Avasan was smiling at him.

“Humor her,” he mouthed.

Ravi turned his eyes back to Lila. “What now?”

Her smile was sweetly sly. “You have never done this before?”

“No. I told you, I don't believe in it.”

She nodded, then moved to the table. She set the bowl down on a chair and spread the top apron of her many-layered skirts on the table.

“Cast the stones there,” she said.

He did, and watched Lila bend her smiling face toward the stones to read them. Taffik Pritam now seemed openly amused and Ravi was certain he did not like being a source of humor. Still, he bore with it; he had no choice.

Lila held a hand over the random arrangement of stones, fingers spread. “You are a man of patience and honesty. You like order in your universe and you abide by order's rule. You are greatly trusted by others.”

Taffik Pritam chuckled. “Please, Lila, tell the man something that is not patently obvious. Of course, he is patient; he is putting up with this distraction. We know he's honest, since he told you what he thinks of all this. As for order and trustworthiness,”—he shrugged—“he would need both to be in charge of the Nathu Rai's household.”

Lila colored. “The stones should never be read before an audience. The next time you come, Ravi, I'll read them for you, alone.”

She gathered up the stones and put them into a small bag that dangled at the waist of her skirt, then slipped the bag beneath her waist band.

“Now, I must go back to my pottery and give Irini a break. I will see you again, Ravi.”

She stretched up to kiss him, then left the wagon.

Pritam chuckled. “Ravi, my friend, you are a marked man. By tossing the fortune stones on her skirts, Lila has just claimed your future. You are betrothed.”

oOo

Sitting at Jaya's personal vicom terminal, Ana pored over the list of names, then pointed at the screen. “Feirkald. I know that family; they're from Tadushk. And this one—Saed Kala—he lives on the southern side of Onan with his wife and children. He's foreman at Fardana Mines.”

“You mean, he was foreman,” said Hadas, from behind her. “Now he's probably-” He broke off with a strangled cry and thrust his finger onto one of the names, his face ashen. “Purus Betiq! Ana, she's my ... she's one of my sister's best friends! She left the settlement about a week before I did. She was supposed to come over with Belia, but her family didn't have the price of passage then.”

He straightened, eyes grim and glittering with tears. “If only she had been with Belia. Neither of them might be lost.”

Ana rested a hand on his arm. “We'll get her back, Hadas. We'll get them all back.”

“How? How can we even find them? They're spread all over this city by now. Maybe even all over the continent. God knows what might have happened to them. They may not even be alive.”

“Stop!” Ana rose from her chair, grasped his shoulders, and shook him. “Listen, Hadas. For every person on this list there is a record in the Badan-Devaki. I'm sure of it. Maybe not names—I'm not sure they care about names—but descriptions, identifying marks, probably even images.”

Hadas took a deep breath, nodded. “Yes. Yes, of course. You're right. Badan-Devaki is a business—a big business. They must process a lot of people; maybe hundreds every month. That's inventory. Businesses track inventory. My father and mother keep inventory for the inn on the vicom. Every stick of furniture, every towel, every plate in the channara. The dalali will do no less. They did take my image while I was there, and asked me my name.”

Ana tugged at her lower lip, glancing down at the vicom screen. “I wonder how I can get into that place without being noticed?”

“Simple. Put on your insulsuit and go for a stroll in the Port Zone.”

Ana grimaced. “No, thank you. I've done that once already.”

She sank back into the chair, while Hadas perched on the edge of Jaya's desk.

“You could go in as a customer,” he suggested. “Try to get lost in the right place-“

Ana shook her head. “Where's the right place? I don't know my way around that building—I've only seen a small portion of it. And if I got caught ... ”

“What about the Nathu Rai?” asked Hadas. “Surely he's been to their private offices. He's a mahesa, after all.”

“Jaya is rather unorthodox, as you've no doubt noticed. I think, when he took me there, it was the first time he'd ever been inside the place.”

Hadas made a frustrated noise. “Well, you came there to get me—that makes you a customer. Wouldn't customers be invited to auctions? If you could get inside ... ”

BOOK: Laldasa
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