Different Senses (30 page)

“He’s twenty, and you’ll
survive. I’ll pick you up from the house at seven.”

“It’s a date,” he said
lightly.

I’d asked Jyoti to accompany
Shardul, who’d requested to use one of the spare invitations, much
to my surprise. I hoped he wasn’t going to cause a scene, but he
was a big boy and could take care of himself. And I confessed to a
little curiosity myself as to what he was up to.

I arranged a party taxi for our
group, collecting Shardul and Jyoti from Roshni-ji’s house. I
pressed the door bell, and stood by the taxi to wait. A few moments
later, Shardul emerged, and I blinked. He wore a jaunty beaded hat
that glittered in the street light, an embroidered open, sleeveless
vest equally extravagantly decorated and nicely setting off his
muscled chest, and a pair of purple light cloth trousers, cut tight
and low around his hips, and hanging in generous folds around his
legs. They drew attention to his crotch as effectively as if he’d
hung an illuminated sign on it. After staring for a bit, I realised
he was also wearing beaded slippers.

“Sainted reason,” I
breathed.

“Is there’s a problem,
Javen?”

I swallowed. “Not at all. Is
Jyoti ready?”

“Yes. My dear?”

She stepped out of the doorway.
“Bloody hell!” I whispered.

She
shimmered
. Her outfit
was far more modest than Shardul’s as far as covering her, but her
arms and neck glittered with beads and polished stones, the cloth
of the flowing skirt over her loose trousers, and the long shirt
shot through with reflective thread. It could have been gaudy, but
instead, looked magnificent. Her braids, usually tied up in a coil
behind her head, flowed around her shoulders like a fantastic mane,
each tail terminating in a tiny, shiny ornament.

“You look like a queen,” I said
to Jyoti, bowing to her. “And quite stunning.”

“Thank you, Javen. I’ll have
the company of two handsome men tonight.”

“Pity our loveliness is wasted
on you,” Shardul quipped, taking her arm and guiding her to the
taxi. “At least no one’s likely to mistake us for the help.”

The driver baulked when he saw
them, locking the doors so they couldn’t get in. “Hey, I didn’t
agree to picking up anyone in fancy dress.”

“You didn’t agree you
wouldn’t,” I said, leaning into his window and speaking in a soft
tone. “Be quiet, be polite, and I’ll be generous with a tip. Make a
scene, and I’ll make sure you lose your job and your carriage
license. Now lower your voice and treat these fine people with
respect, or I’ll kick your arse.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Yes.”

He glared at me, but I stared
back until he lowered his eyes. “Tell them to get in.” The door
locks clicked.

“Sushri Jyoti, Sri Shardul,
would you care to step inside?” I called.

Jyoti would have sensed the
little prick’s hostility, and Shardul would have guessed it even
without the overheard insults. Now I wished I’d brought my own
vehicle.

“
Sorry,”
I mouthed at
Jyoti.

She shrugged. Shardul
patted her hand, and gave me a dirty look.
“Sorry,”
I said to him too.
This wasn’t what I’d planned.

We collected my trainees from
their homes. To my amusement I found formal clothes made Vik look
even younger. Kirin would have a fit. “You look very fine,” I told
him. Jyoti hid a smile.

“Good evening, Shardul,” Vik
said.

“Nice to see you again, Vik.
How’s working for the evil oppressor going?”

Vik smiled brightly. “The
beatings have stopped and he’s feeding us every other day now. So
it’s good.”

Prachi giggled. I whacked
my insolent assistant on the arm. “Quiet or the shackles go back
on,
beto
.”

“Come the revolution, Ythen,
you’ll be the first one we hang from the ramparts.”

“Yeah, yeah. All talk,
Shardul.”

The driver glanced at me in the
mirror. I gave him a broad grin. Shardul, leaning back in the
shadows, smirked. I owed him that.

Kirin looked a lot better in
evening wear than I did, and even though we weren’t together any
more, I felt proud to be with such a good-looking guy. Three of
them, for sure. Shardul was probably the prettiest person in the
taxi, but Kirin reminded me of when I’d first met him and had been
bowled over by the handsome geek.

I kissed his cheek. “You look
quite edible.”

“Thank you. I’d offer you a
nibble but...children, don’t you know.”

“
He’s
twenty
.”

“I want to see some ID.” He
smiled as he got in the taxi. “Hello everyone. Jyoti, my goodness,
you look simply gorgeous.”

“I hope some Kelon socialites
drop dead out of pure envy,” Shardul said. “Sri Nel.”

“Shardul-ji,” Kirin
acknowledged. I rolled my eyes. It was a wonder Shardul didn’t
lower his pants and wave his dick in Kirin’s face to show who was
boss. Kirin had no idea why Shardul didn’t like him. Neither did I,
to be honest. Shardul had been hostile from the minute he’d met
him. Men.

At the residence, I gave the
taxi driver a tip though I felt more like reporting him. Easier to
just send him away without a fuss, so the evening wouldn’t be
tainted further by his attitude.

I’d been to exactly one
Governor’s Ball since my father won the position, while I was still
a police officer. I’d gone in uniform, alone, and been pictured
with Yashi, also then single, and my parents, the perfect image of
the perfect family. I’d hated every minute of it. Yashi had since
gone with Tara a couple of times, but the novelty had worn off, and
now they’d rather spend the evening at home with the kids. Didn’t
blame them at all.

But now I was here with such
attractive and congenial companions, I could almost enjoy the
prospect. We walked in with men in richly embroidered coats and
sharp trousers, and women dressed in flowing silk sarees and gems
on hands, ears, necks and in their hair. None outshone our Jyoti.
Heads turned, and people murmured in surprise as Shardul led his
beautiful companion into the ballroom. I was certain very few, if
any, had ever seen any Nihan in full finery before. Certainly, none
had ever entered the ball as a personal guest of this governor
either. Shardul radiated excitement. He was up to something, but
what?

Conversations stopped, though
the music continued, and dancing couples slowed to a halt to stare
at our little group. I rolled my eyes. “Anyone would think they’d
never seen you guys before. Prachi, would you like to dance?”

“Yes, boss,” she said, eyes
twinkling.

Shardul led Jyoti behind us,
and Kirin, throwing caution and reputation to the winds, took Vik’s
hand and joined us on the floor.

My mother would have organised
everything for the ball. I recognised her exquisite taste in the
large flower arrangements emitting a subtle scent through the air,
and in the slowly twisting ceiling decorations, sending sparkling
light and colour over the crowd. The music was live, of course—no
recordings for Mum—and the instruments impeccably tuned. The
familiar popular tune playing now was irresistible to anyone who
loved to dance.

But even so, for far too long,
we were the only people on the floor, while my Kelon countrymen
showed a complete lack of manners, staring and muttering to each
other. But then, either sick of staring, or unable to resist the
lure of the lively music, another couple joined us, and another,
and soon the floor filled again, though with a conspicuous distance
kept between Shardul and Jyoti, and the other dancers. Did people
think they could catch being indigenous or something?

Shardul danced beautifully. Of
course he did. He did everything beautifully. Kirin had learned to
dance at his private school, same as I had. But where had Shardul?
And where had Jyoti? I suspected shenanigans, and grinned to
myself.

“What’s so funny, boss?”

“Call me ‘Javen’ here, Prachi,
or ‘sir’ if you must. Just wondering what Shardul’s doing?”

“Poking people in the eye, sir.
Like you are.”

“Not so obviously. We do have
to look for this bracelet.”

“Yes, but can we have some fun
first? And a drink?”

When we finished the dance, I
bowed to her and took her hand. “This way, my lady,” I said, and
headed to the bar.

My mother found us while I was
ordering Prachi a glass of wine, fruit juice for me, damn it.
“Javen, what on earth do you think you’re doing bringing those
people here in those outrageous outfits?”

“Good evening, Mother. Mother,
this is Prachi Abhay, one of my able assistants. My friends are
here to help me.”

“Dressed like that?”

“You have a problem with
cultural displays, Mum? Half the women here are wearing indigenous
jewellery.”

“Yes, but not....” She fell
silent as Shardul and Jyoti came over.

“Shardul, Jyoti, let me
introduce you to my mother, Shrimati Ythen. Mother, Sri Shardul
Hema Rishabh, one of Hegal’s finest lawyers, and Sushri Jyoti Tejal
Hiranya.” Jyoti bowed a little. Shardul nodded politely. “Jyoti
works with Kirin. He’s here too.”

“Oh, is he?” Mum liked Kirin,
which is why I’d mentioned him. “Er, nice to meet you both. Er,
Sushri Hiranya, that’s a very striking costume.”

“Traditional celebratory wear
among our people, Shrimati Ythen,” Shardul said. “Sadly it’s rarely
possible for a full display these days.”

“Oh? Why’s that?” She wasn’t
really interested, but politeness made her keep on with the
conversation.

“Because the trade in the
beadwork and jewellery has pushed the prices up too much for our
people to acquire new work, and those who haven’t already sold
their inherited pieces to be traded to your people, find they are
targeted by thieves and muggers who steal the goods and pass them
to illegal artefact merchants. It’s a great loss to the Nihan and
our culture.”

He fixed her with those laser
bright eyes and she flushed. “Er...I’m sure. Javen, dear, do excuse
me. I must speak to your father.”

She rushed off, relieved to get
away. I turned to Shardul. “You’re evil.”

“Yes, I am. Did any of that
penetrate?”

“To be honest, I doubt it. But
keep telling people. Don’t forget we came here for a reason,
though.”

“You came for a reason. I came
for entirely different reasons.”

“Fine, but keep an eye out for
the bracelet. We should circulate. If nothing else, you two will
form such a distraction, the rest of us will slip by unnoticed.
Jyoti, I claim a dance later. Shardul, same for you.”

He couldn’t refuse, but he
narrowed his eyes. “You may regret that, Ythen.”

“I count on it. Now, to work,
boys and girls.”

Kirin was still dancing, and
Vik did his best to keep up. They looked delicious together,
despite the apparently huge age gap. I had to give Kirin credit—the
idea of not being seen with an indigenous companion had obviously
never entered his head, and he treated Vik like any other date,
determined to give him a damn good time. But Vik was here to work,
so as Prachi and I joined them briefly on the dance floor, I
whispered, “Bracelet” into Kirin’s flushed left ear.

“Oh. Now?”

“Soon. But you can dance as
well. Don’t forget to feed and water him. These young things have
needs.”

“I’ll get you for that remark,
Javen.”

“Good. People are taking
pictures.”

He grinned. “Excellent.”

I smiled at Vik and gave him a
discreet thumbs-up. My assistant grinned back toothily. I hoped he
didn’t think investigative work would always be this glamorous.

One of the women watching the
dancing recognised me, and smiled. I wandered over. “Good evening,
Shrimati Ceral. May I introduce Prachi, my assistant?”

“Welcome, Prachi, and Javen,
dear, called me Hita. How are you? I’ve heard nothing of you for
years. What are you doing now?”

I settled into conversation
with my mother’s old friend. Prachi pretended to listen
attentively, but like me, she scanned the other women for signs of
the distinctive bracelet.

Nothing so far, but I used
Hita’s welcome to insinuate myself in conversations with other
women. One of their husbands was bold enough to ask Prachi to dance
while I talked to his wife. The resulting jealousy and attention
from the women onlookers let me move unnoticed among them and check
out their wrists.

Vik and Kirin were busy too, at
the bar and buffet. Kirin had always attracted female admiration
despite being as openly homosexual as me, and every time I looked
over at the two of them, a woman was talking to him, gazing up at
him with unrealistic lust in her eyes. Everyone ignored Vik, though
I noticed a few men giving him thoughtful looks.

Shardul and Jyoti were heading
back to the dance floor. I moved alongside and insinuated myself
between them. “Ah, may I claim my dance now, Jyoti?”

“Certainly, Javen. Sorry,
Shardul.”

Shardul made a face. “Then I
shall have to claim another companion.” He marched straight up to
Hita, bowed, and asked her to dance. Even at this distance, I felt
her utter shock. I was sure that was the only reason she let
Shardul take her hand and lead her to the dance floor.

I smiled sweetly at Jyoti.
“Don’t they make a lovely couple?”

“If her husband doesn’t have a
heart attack.”

Sri Ceral stood bug-eyed at the
edge of the dance floor. If Shardul gave him the least excuse, the
man would march over and drag his wife away, but Shardul was much
too smart for that.

Dancing with Jyoti was like
dancing with a man. She was tall as me, and obviously had taken the
male part when learning, but she moved with such regal grace that
any awkwardness disappeared in moments. “Everyone’s watching you,”
I whispered.