Laldasa (32 page)

After the invocation, the Deva Radha called for a reading of the summary of the last meeting. Jaya chose that moment to press his comment button.

The Deva looked at him questioningly. “Nathu Rai, you have a comment to make?”

Jaya stood. “I have a report to give, Deva. I wish to report an attack against my person by employees of the KasiNawahr Consortium.”

Now he saw a roomful of shocked faces. A murmur rippled around the chamber. Nigudha Bhrasta's eyes narrowed even further.

“An attack?” repeated the Deva. “When and where did this take place?”

“Yesterday at the front gate of the Sarojin Palace.”

Again, the eddy of stunned disbelief.

“I was attacked by four hooded men carrying illegal weapons. They beat me, they held me at knife point, they threatened my life and the life of my cousin, Ana.”

“Pardon, Nathu Rai,” said Bel Adivaram, “but if these men were masked, how do you know they were in the employ of the KNC?”

“They told me as much. Their object was to coerce me into voting pro-Consortium.”

His eyes pried at Nigudha Bhrasta's closed face. Bhrasta gazed back coldly.

Adivaram scowled. “You mean to tell me, Nathu Rai, that KNC henchmen announced themselves?”

“I didn't say they ‘announced' themselves as KNC henchmen,” returned Jaya. “They claimed to be members of a Worker's Coalition. An organization made up of KNC wharfers and other employees.”

“Worker's Coalition,” repeated the Deva. “I've never heard of such an organization.”

“I think our friends in AGIM have,” Jaya said. “They also call themselves WoCoa.”

Taffik Pritam and his two boxmates both reacted strongly to that, sharing angry glances and pushing toward the edges of their seats.

“The Vadin Adivaram might also have had ... a recent encounter with them,” Jaya added.

Adivaram reddened, then nodded reluctantly. “Yes. It sounds as if they're the same people who ... suggested my vote might also favor the Consortium.”

“You said nothing before the Council about these socalled suggestions,” observed the Deva.

Adivaram made a dismissive gesture. “Deva, the threats were so veiled, so ambiguous. I had never heard of the organization.”

“They'd heard of you,” said Jaya.

Adivaram paled.

The Deva turned to fix the KNC box with an intent gaze. “Have you ever heard of this Worker's Coalition, Bhrastasama?”

The Board Chairman returned the gaze with equal intensity. “I had heard that something of that sort was being organized by the Wharfers Guild, but nothing indicated its members would resort to fanatical behavior. I assure you, Deva, we are just as shocked by this as you are.”

Jaya studied Bhrasta's impassive face. If he was shocked, he hid it well.

“Have you notified the Sarngin, Nathu Rai?” asked Adivaram.

“He has,” offered the Vadin of the Sun Crescent, Rakesh Bithal. “We have one of the men in custody. I questioned him myself. A most stubborn individual. He would tell us nothing.”

Jaya, his eyes still on the KNC box, thought Duran Prakash went a shade paler but that certainly didn't qualify as evidence of conspiracy.

“Such fortune!” exclaimed Adivaram, also watching the KNC contingent. “But, of course, the Sarngin of Kasi are unparalleled.”

“My friend, Ravi, captured the man. The Sarngin merely put him under arrest.”

“The Consortium officially abhors any acts of violence perpetrated by its employees,” interjected Bhrasta. “We will, of course, do whatever we can to counsel our wharfers to patience.”

He glanced away from the Varmana as if they had ceased to be of interest to him.

Duran Prakash stepped into the awkward silence. “May we now return to the issue of AGIM's anarchy?”

“Autonomy,” corrected Sri Radha. “And I think, perhaps, this Worker's Coalition deserves a bit more consideration.”

Prakash uttered a sound of sheer frustration. “Deva, this is obviously an issue that affects a broad spectrum of people. We can't expect all of those people to behave reasonably in such an emotional situation. Surely, Holy One, you would not hold the Consortium responsible for the actions of a few distraught men.”

“No, we would not. However, it hasn't been established that a few distraught men are the perpetrators. I suggest this issue not be addressed until the Sarngin of the Sun Crescent have had further opportunity to interrogate their prisoner.”

“I agree,” said the Vadin Bithal. “Let's continue with the matter at hand. I have some questions for the Speakers.”

There was general consent to that and Jaya was the first one to key in a “yea” vote. He found himself watching the doorway as the session advanced, hoping Ravi would come with a message that the thug had confessed.

They were up to their eyes in fiscal reports, examining the KNC claim that AGIM autonomy posed undue financial hardship, when Ravi at last appeared in the vast doorway of the chamber, escorted by a Chamber courier. He came quietly to Jaya's side and knelt to whisper in his ear.

“The news is not good,” he said.

Sri Radha interrupted the conversation. “Nathu Rai, does your man's message bear on the attack made against you?”

Jaya looked to Ravi, who nodded.

“Then, share this information, if you would, please.”

Ravi straightened, glanced at his Nathu Rai and said, “Holy Deva, my Lord will have told you that the Sarngin captured one of the men who attacked him.”

“Actually, he told us you captured him, Ravidas.”

Ravi merely bowed his head again. “It matters very little who captured him now, Deva. He's dead.”

“What?” Jaya's exclamation was lost in the general uproar.

It took the Deva some moments to bring the meeting to order again. When she had done so, she motioned Ravi to the witness box.

“Continue with your report, please, Ravidas.
 
How did this man die?”

“He was poisoned.”

So much for coincidence, Jaya thought, and did not like the implied meaning in this sudden death.

“How did this happen?” the Vadin Bithal's whisper was heard clearly in the silent chamber.

“It isn't known yet, Vadin. The poison was contained in a capsule which was still in the man's mouth when he was found.”

“Well, it sounds to me as if the fellow committed suicide!” exclaimed Kreti Twapar.

The Deva's face was expressionless. “Ravidas, have the Sarngin found any evidence to suggest that this man's death was indeed a suicide?”

“No, Deva. No conclusive evidence.”

“He was searched thoroughly when he was admitted to the cell block, Deva,” offered Rakesh Bithal. “There was no poison capsule found on him then.”

“You mean your Sarngin didn't find one,” said Adivaram. “That doesn't mean there wasn't one to be found. Perhaps he had it in his mouth all along.”

“Then why,” asked Jaya, “why wouldn't he have used it immediately?”

Adivaram opened his mouth to reply, but the Deva cut across him.

“Do they have any idea who he was?”

Ravi shook his head. “He carried no leaf and his cree had been ... tampered with.”

“Tampered with?”

“His palm had been burned. According to the forensic Asvin, the scars were several years old.”

“That seems highly suspicious,” observed the Vadin Narudin.

“Such injuries among wharfers must be quite common,” said Duran Prakash. “I'm sure it's just an unfortunate coincidence.”

“Coincidence?” repeated Jaya.

“Nathu Rai, you're out of order,” said the Deva.

“May I speak?” asked Ravi from the witness box.

The Deva nodded.

“If this man were a wharfer, then he must carry cree. With his left palm damaged, the cree would have been placed in his right. It was not. Yet, he could not have gotten employment legally without that cree.”

“If the injury occurred after he began working for the Consortium-“ began Kreti Twapar.

“Then the Consortium would have been bound by law to see to it that the cree was replaced,” Rakesh Bithal finished. “It was not. The man's lack of identifying cree is on record. He is—was—yevetha.”

The Deva nodded. “You seem to be suggesting that this man was a professional criminal.”

Bithal shrugged. “That is entirely possible. One thing is clear at this point: He couldn't have been what he claimed to be ... unless, of course, the Consortium is hiring yevetha illegally.”

“Or unless,” said Nigudha Bhrasta, his eyes on Bithal, “he was hired by the Worker's Coalition to pursue their ...
 
questionable goals.”

The Deva sat back and clasped her hands before her in her lap. “This changes the complexion of the situation significantly. I recommend that this Council receive a full report on this matter from the Sarngin of the Sun Crescent. Immediately.” She scanned the faces of the Council. “Do we have consensus?”

The Varmana reached for their consoles to indicate “yea” or “nay.” Radha watched the votes register on her own console. Amid the gold lights that signaled agreement, the cluster of red ones was glaring.

“Majority carries,” announced the Deva, “but I would like to know why there is disagreement. Do any of the nay-sayers wish to discuss this?”

There was a moment of silence, then Kreti Twapar cleared his throat. “It simply seemed to me that an added expenditure of time and energy when we're already involved in an undertaking of this magnitude would be overwhelming. In the scheme of things, wouldn't we do just as well to wait until the Sarngin issue a report to our noble associate?” He nodded toward Rakesh Bithal. “He could then tender it to a review council—I would gladly volunteer for such, and would recommend Bel Adivaram, since he is our senior Vadin.”

“Why shouldn't I tender my report directly to the Vrinda Varma?” asked Bithal quietly.

Twapar wheezed. “Pardon, Vadin, but it appears either a suicide or a murder has occurred in the headquarters of your own District. Certainly it would not be proper for you to head any investigation into it.”

Bithal's dark skin flushed, but he held his tongue.

“I think perhaps the Lord Twapar is correct,” said Bel Adivaram. “That way the matter would be in the hands of objective parties and would not consume valuable Council time.”

“Pardon me,” said Sri Elui, “but this is a most grave matter. Does it seem suspicious to no one else that, in the midst of these negotiations with AGIM and the Consortium, the Saroj is attacked by an employee of the KNC—pardon, an alleged employee—who then either commits suicide or is murdered before he can speak? My dear friends, if this man were, indeed, a wharfer intent on survival, why would he kill himself? Why would he be killed?”

He shook his head, the bells in his long silver braids whispering across his shoulders. “It surely behooves us to search into this matter. A threat to the Saroj is a threat to our government. If it was made by desperate and ignorant men, as Speaker Prakash suggests, that is tragic. But if it was made by other than a simple group of activists ... ” He left the thought unfinished.

“Such an insinuation-“ began Prakash, then choked off whatever he'd been going to say as Bhrasta's hand descended onto his forearm.

“I insinuate nothing,” said the old Dandin mildly. “I am merely determined that we should know the truth.”

In the silence that followed, Kreti Twapar signaled and was recognized. “I agree whole-heartedly with my noble colleague. We must certainly know the truth. I would like to recommend that the Vadin Bithal be required to lay a full report before our senior Vadin immediately.”

The Deva looked at him steadily for a moment then said, “Let me amend the recommendation: A report is to be submitted directly to the Inner Circle by Vadin Bithal. Immediately. Discussion?”

“Deva,” said Bel Adivaram, quietly, “I have also been contacted by this WoCoa. I feel that I have a ... personal interest in this development. I would welcome a chance to investigate it.”

“It is precisely because of your personal interest, Bel, that you should not investigate it,” Radha returned reasonably. She scanned the Council chamber. “Is there further discussion? A counter proposal?”

There was none.

“Then the recommendation stands: A report shall be tendered to the Inner Circle immediately. Consensus?” The Deva watched the lights on her console wink on. “So be it. The Inner Circle will meet as soon as the report is available.”

She recorded the consensus with her light pen, then gestured for Ravi to step down from the witness box and leave them. When he had gone she favored the assemblage with an assessing gaze that fell, at last, to her folded hands.