Chapter 7 -- Home

Chapter 7 -- Home

No one can tell us we're wrong . . .

It was almost midnight as Hadji strode through the corridors of the palace. A whole series of minor crises had kept him up much longer than he had originally intended. First, the head of the palace guard had called him. A dispute had arisen between two of the guards over the ownership of some personal property. The supervisor had tried to mediate and resolve the problem, but the two guards didn't like each other and the dispute had quickly escalated from the petty argument into a full blown fight. Finally, in desperation, the head of the guard unit had summoned him in the hope that Hadji could settle the problem before it got any further out of hand. It had taken the better portion of an hour to deal with and in the end, he had been forced to play the "Sultan" role. He really hated doing that.

And he had no more than finished with that, when he was summoned to the chambers of one of his guests. The man had seven daughters and had brought all seven plus his wife to the palace for Neela's bridal search. The problem was that his wife had been pregnant and the strain of the trip had forced her into premature labor. Hadji sighed. The woman never should have been made to travel. The palace medical staff had been summoned and in the ensuing hours, the woman had finally given birth to a very tiny baby boy. The father was overjoyed. It was his first son. Mother and child were progressing as well as could be expected under the circumstances, and the palace physician had told him he thought they would both survive. That family wasn't going to be leaving the palace any time soon, however. The grateful father had told him he thought it was an omen, and the child would be named after the young Sultan. Hadji would have protested but decided it was futile, so he simply thanked the man for the honor he had bestowed upon him.

Just as he was getting ready to leave there, one of his personal palace guards came running up to tell him that Jessie Bannon was on the phone for him. He had been suddenly afraid that someone had been hurt or something very bad had happened. They had routed the call through to the guest apartment, and he had taken it there rather than going all the way back across the palace. It had been a strange call. Jessie had been extremely upset, but Hadji had been unable to determine precisely what was wrong. She told him she had called to find out if he knew what was wrong with Jonny. He told her he wasn't aware that anything was wrong . . . that Jonny had not said anything to him about any problem. That answer did not seem to satisfy her. It took a minute for him to realize that she thought he was covering for his brother and that he actually did know something. He explained that the two of them hadn't talked much of late . . . that he had been busy and he assumed Jonny had been also. In the end, she had accepted that he didn't know anything. Hadji had promised her he would speak to Jonny privately to see if he could find out what was going on. In a very subdued manner, she asked how he was doing and they exchanged a few pleasantries. But Hadji had caught one more thing . . . he was sure she was crying when she hung up the phone.

He was thinking about it as he left the guest apartment with the intention of going back to his own rooms and going to bed. He had glanced at his watch and even considered trying to call Jonny in Maine. Jessie did not jump at shadows. If she was this upset it was a certainty that something was wrong at home. But before he could get there, another of his guests intercepted him. Rajeev Subramanian was interested in discussing his granite mining business and some ideas he had for broadening the market for his product. Hadji would truly have preferred to do it at another time, but the man was quite insistent and he could find no polite way to put him off. He had spent almost three hours discussing the intricacies of granite mining, a subject, he had discovered early in the conversation that he had absolutely no interest in. He had finally extracted himself and had left to return to his quarters. He was exhausted. It had been a very long and stressful day, and he was looking forward to meditating for a while and then going to bed.

Hadji quickly rounded a corner a short distance from the guest quarters, and ran into another person coming in the opposite direction. Literally ran into her. She would have fallen if he had not reached out and grabbed her. As it was, the books she was carrying went flying in all directions and they both staggered trying to keep their balance.

"I am terribly sorry! Are you all right?" he exclaimed, trying to set her back on her feet.

Her eyes flashed in the dim light as she jerked her arm from his grasp. "Yes, no thanks to you! You should be more careful coming around blind corners. You could hurt someone."

"I know and I am most sorry. I was thinking about something else and was not paying attention. It is so late, I did not expect anyone to be out."

"Well, you are out!"

"That is true. I am very sorry." Hadji reached out and began picking up the books, which were scattered up and down the corridor. The young woman also began retrieving fallen volumes, and as she did so, Hadji looked at her surreptitiously. She was of medium height, slender, with thick, raven black hair that hung down well below her waist and warm brown skin. She was young, probably about his age, and was dressed in a dark red sari with a tiny floral print. She was not a classic beauty . . . her eyes were a little too widely set and her lips a little too full, but her face was arresting. It held intelligence, awareness, curiosity, and an intensity that immediately fascinated Hadji. He thought she probably had a razor sharp wit and a tongue to match. He looked down at the books he held as he turned to return them to her. 'Fundamentals of Thermodynamics', 'Differential Equations', 'Hydrology and Geology of Fault Systems', and 'Statistical Analysis for Engineers'. He smiled as he held them out to her. "An interesting array of subjects."

Defensively, she responded, "I'm going to be a mining engineer."

"Indeed? That is good. Bangalore can use talented, well educated people."

She looked at him sharply. "Most people do not feel that way."

He looked at her questioningly but didn't respond.

Reluctantly, she continued, "Most people would say that it is a man's job."

Hadji responded calmly, "Well, most people would be wrong. It is a job for the people with the talent for it, regardless of gender."

She looked at him in astonishment. He returned the look with a slight smile. Flustered, she looked away as she snatched her books away from him. "Thank you. It was kind of you to help."

"Well, it was my fault," he said reasonably. "It was only appropriate I should try to make amends. May I be of further assistance and carry those to your quarters for you?"

That appeared to fluster her even more. "No! No, I will be fine. I am staying very near here. I thank you for the offer, but I must be going." And with that, she turned abruptly and fled. Hadji moved very quietly to peer around the corner. He watched her move up the hallway and slip into one of the guest quarters along the corridor. He looked at the closed door for a long moment. So . . . she was one of the daughters of Rajeev Subramanian. Perhaps it might be wise to take more of an interest in granite mining after all . . .

***

Race eyed his daughter out of the corner of his eye as he negotiated the rutted, dirt road with care. They were about twenty miles out of town and still about twenty-five miles from camp. Jessie had been silent and withdrawn for the entire drive. He had dropped her off down near the village post office when they arrived, and had headed up toward the little open air market to pick up fresh food stuffs. She was planning to try to call Hadji from the pay phone there. He figured she would be gone for quite a while. But he had come out of the market less than 20 minutes later to find her sitting in the jeep staring blindly out the window. That she had been crying was immediately evident. He hesitated briefly and then decided that now was not the time to push her about it. If he waited until they were on the road back to camp she would be a captive audience and maybe he could get her to talk. It had been a long time since he had seen her this upset.

Finally, he said gently, "Tell me about it, Ponchita. What's wrong?"

She was silent, staring straight ahead, as if she didn't hear him.

"Jess?"

Still she didn't answer.

"Jessica . . . " He glanced over at her and saw she was crying again. He braked sharply, bringing the jeep to a stop, then turned and gathered her into his arms, hugging her tightly. "Sweetheart, what is it? What's wrong?"

She just shook her head and leaned against him, burying her face in his shirt. He held her patiently, waiting for her to cry herself out. Slowly, her tears slacked off and finally became tiny little hiccups. He stroked her hair gently, giving her time.

"Oh, Daddy, I love him so much." Her voice was soft and heartbroken.

"He loves you too, Jess, so what's the problem?"

"Something is wrong, but he won't tell me what it is. Whenever I ask him he just says it's nothing and . . ." She trailed off miserably.

"Sweetheart, maybe he's just busy. Or maybe he's working on something he knows you would want to be a part of, and he doesn't want you feeling badly that you aren't there to help. More than likely it's because you're gone and he's lonely. It could be any number of things. Or maybe what he's telling you is the truth and there IS nothing wrong." He tilted her face up to look at him. "You haven't been very happy here this trip, have you?"

She buried her head back against his shirt again and her voice sounded muffled as she responded, "I like being together with you and Mom."

Race sighed. "I know you do, Jess. But that's not to say that you wouldn't prefer to be somewhere else." Grasping her by the shoulders he set her upright where he could look at her closely. "Sweetheart, you're getting older. That's sometimes hard for your mother and I to accept, but it's the truth. And I know how deeply you care for Jonny. It's painful to be separated when you love someone that much." He grinned at her slightly. "Believe me, I know better than most how painful it can be. It is no disloyalty to your mother and I for you to want to be with Jonny."

She looked at her father, her expression a mixture of misery, guilt, and desire. Finally, she whispered, "I'm just so afraid . . . "

"Of what?"

"That he'll lose interest. That he'll find someone else. She took him away so easily . . . "

Race didn't have to ask who 'she' was. "Jess, Francesca Hamilton didn't mean anything to Jonny. You don't need to fear her."

"But she was everything I'm not . . . "

"That's not true and you know it!" Race looked at his daughter helplessly, uncertain what to say to reassure her. "Jess, neither your mother nor I realized how deeply Jonny cared for you until Cairo. Those days were a nightmare. Believe me when I tell you, he loves you a great deal."

"But Cairo's just the point, Daddy," she wailed. "I know how close I came to losing him there. If she hadn't ended up in jail, I don't know what would have happened. I probably would have lost him forever. And no matter how much we fight, I don't think I could stand that."

He looked at her silently, wondering how she had found out about Cairo. Everyone had agreed not to tell her about the incident in the antiquities shop. Initially, they felt she wasn't strong enough, and later it was just that they felt it wasn't necessary to burden her with it. But it was obvious she had found out about it somehow. He sighed inwardly. Now what? Finally, he said quietly, "I think you need to go home." He watched a flash of joy cross her face, only to be followed immediately by sorrowful resignation.

"I can't do that, Daddy."

"Why not?"

"For one thing, I'm needed here. And Jonny might not want me to come home just now."

"Jonny always wants you home, Ponchita. And as for your being needed here, well, on this trip your mom has plenty of help. She can learn to get along without you. I can use the Quest Copter to fly you to the nearest airport and get you on a plane for home. We'll both miss you, but I really think you need to talk with Jonny . . . get this straightened out. If you're this unhappy, I can't begin to imagine what life back at the Compound is like. Benton probably has his hands full right now.

A ghost of a smile crossed her lips. "You don't know the half of it."

He gave her a quick hug and turned to restart the jeep. "So tell me about it on the ride back to camp."

She settled back into her seat. "Do you remember Brandon Simmons? Well, . . ."

***

"You told her WHAT?" Estella paced their tent like a caged tiger.

"I told her I would fly her to the nearest airport and put her on a plane for home." Race stood in the middle of the tent, hands on hips, and glared at her.

"I don't believe this!" Estella was practically shrieking. "I need her here, and you agree to pack her up and send her to Maine?!?"

"You do not need her here. You have more help on this dig than you've ever had before," he yelled back at her. "You're using her as a buffer; as a way to keep from dealing with me one-on-one, and that's not fair! She's miserable. Something's wrong at home and she's convinced herself the problem is that Jonny's losing interest in her. Nothing anyone says is going to make her change her mind about it."

Estella looked startled, her anger abruptly fading. "Losing interest? That's highly unlikely. That boy would die first. Where did she get that idea?"

"I have no clue. She says there's something wrong with him and that he won't talk about it . . . to anyone. Not even Hadji. And I have to admit that worries me. And that's another thing . . . do you have any idea how she found out about Cairo?"

"Someone told her what happened in Cairo?"

"Evidently. She made it pretty clear this afternoon that she knew what happened."

She stopped and stared at him in bewilderment. "But . . . if she knows what happened, how can she possibly believe that Jonny is losing interest?"

Race sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I don't know. I can't figure out what's going on. I'm seriously considering calling Benton. It would help to know what's going on back home."

He glanced over at her. She had sunk down on their bed and was looking at him with a strange expression on her face.

"What?"

She opened her mouth to respond, but stopped and shook her head, apparently confused. Finally, she just said, "Nothing."

He looked at her in exasperation. "Estella, don't do this. You sound just like Jessie. Not being honest with each other is what got us into trouble last time. Now what's bothering you?"

She shrugged helplessly. "I just . . . it's so hard to explain . . . it makes me feel so strange to hear both you and Jessie talking about going "home" and realizing that it's Quest Compound in Maine. We never had that . . . that . . . that sense of place, you and I, while we were together. I guess it hurts a little to realize the two of you have it now and that I'm not a part of it."

Race came over and sat down beside her on the cot. "I didn't need a 'place' back then, Estella. Home for me was wherever you were, whether it was a hotel room in Washington, a rented house in Houston, or a tent in the jungles of Colombia. And as for now, Quest Compound is your home, too, if you want it to be. Benton has always told me you're welcome there." Putting an arm around her shoulders, he tilted her head back and kissed her softly. For an instant, he thought she would try to pull away, but abruptly she relaxed into him and her arms slid around his neck. What started as a gesture to try to remove the sadness in her eyes, exploded into full-blown passion without warning. When their lips finally parted, he covered her face and neck with tiny little kisses, and gently eased her back to lie on the cot. His hands roamed across her body, caressing her breasts and stroking her belly. He could feel her struggling, trying not to moan out loud as he teased her. He felt her hands slide under his shirt and up his back. Then it was all he could do not to moan out loud as well. He was finding that her vocal nature was contagious. Somewhere in the back of his mind he registered the group of people who walked by their tent. It was midday. This wasn't particularly smart . . . they were sure to get caught. Reluctantly he stopped, breathing heavily, and looked at her as she lay beneath him. She opened her eyes and gazed up at him in hurt confusion. She saw both love and intense desire reflected in his eyes. With a gentle hand, he caressed her cheek softly. "This probably isn't a good idea just now. Too many people around."

"No, you're probably right," she agreed after a brief struggle with her conscience.

He gazed at her for a moment, then reached out with a gentle hand and caressed her belly again. "How do you feel?"

"Just fine."

"I remember you were so sick with Jessie."

"So far I haven't had a problem."

"At the risk of being yelled at again, could the two of us take Jessie to Maine?" The look he turned on her was pleading.

"Now isn't a good time to be gone. Why do you want me to go?"

He stroked her belly again in that gentle, almost possessive, gesture. "You should see a doctor. Make sure everything is okay."

She smiled at him. "You worry too much."

He didn't say anything, but she suddenly detected a ghost of fear in his eyes. He wouldn't push her about this, she realized. That much had changed in their relationship over the years. He would accept her decision, even if he didn't like it. But she knew he was right. They were a long way from anywhere and the child she was carrying needed to take priority. She reached down and covered his hand with hers as it lay on her stomach. "Could it wait a few days? If we can get past the initial stages of set-up on this new burial chamber, it should be simple enough to let Ruben coordinate the on-going excavation. I could combine the trip to Maine with stops in several other places relating to the dig, and that should diffuse any of the political ramifications of my leaving."

He smiled at her in relief. "I can probably talk Jessie into waiting that long." He leaned down and kissed her. When his mouth was free again, he whispered softly in her ear, "I love you, Estella."

"I love you too."