Chapter Fourteen


Rajeev Subramanian rose stiffly and stared at the shattered remains of the main boom on the huge surface excavator dispassionately. If he was distressed by the damage, none of the men surrounding him could tell it.

"There is nothing that can be done with it," he announced calmly. "The falling pieces damaged the driver's compartment. We will have to dispose of it piece-by-piece. Get two of the trucks and the large earthmover and let us see if we can get it away from the mine entrance. I do not believe we will be able to do so, but it is worth attempting. Was anyone hurt?"

"No, sir," his foreman replied.

"Good. Equipment can be replaced . . . good people cannot." He looked around. "Where is Subir?"

Some low, angry murmurs greeted that question, and several of the men pointed toward a frame structure near the main entrance to the work site. Rajeev nodded. "Good enough. Let us see if this can be moved. If not, I will contact the company it was purchased from and see about getting a team out here to remove it."

"You are not considering shutting down here again because of this, are you?" the foreman objected.

Rajeev smiled with wry humor. "This sort of thing is getting to be somewhat commonplace, I am afraid . . . well, these things happen. Unfortunately, if we cannot get it clear of the entrance, we cannot risk men in the quarry. That is why we shall try to move it in pieces before we resort to that."

"We could work around it," the foreman volunteered. "I am sure that even if we asked for volunteers, we could get a more than adequate workforce."

But Rajeev shook his head. "I will not risk men in such a dangerous enterprise when there is no need. If it becomes necessary, we will shut this mine down until we can get the machine moved. In the meantime, you will look at the staffing schedules in the other mines and transport methods. We will need to find ways to keep the men working in other locations. They need the money."

"Yes, sir." Rajeev nodded and turned to walk toward the guard station where they indicated he would find Subir. He was careful to keep his expression pleasant and his stride even. He did not think it would be wise to allow the men to see his anger. This was the third such accident at this mine in a month's time . . . always with heavy equipment, and always at a place that caused the most problems, both in terms of getting it moved and of downtime in mine operations. In two of the three instances, Subir Rafiq had been operating the machine in question when it failed. This time, it had been idle at the time of the failure, but Subir had been the last one to use it . . . and the one that had parked it where it now sat.

Rajeev opened the door to the guard station and immediately spotted Subir. He sat with his feet propped comfortably on a desk and the chair in which he sat tilted back so his shoulders leaned against the wall. The guard, a new man who had only been working here for a few months, slouched at the desk lazily. Subir came to his feet as soon as he recognized who had entered. The guard, however, remained seated and simply stared at Rajeev silently.

"Father!" Subir exclaimed. "Were you searching for me?"

Rajeev winced internally at the name. From the day Subir had married his eldest daughter, the man had taken to referring to him in this fashion and nothing Rajeev had done since would break him of the habit. The worst part of it was that Subir did not do it to be deliberately antagonizing; rather, it was simply an outward expression of the way the man felt. Subir wasn't intelligent enough to be deceptive or sarcastic. Not for the first time, Rajeev praised God that Hadji Singh had stepped in and stopped him from marrying Kefira to this man. While he had no doubt that Subir treated his eldest daughter well, Kefira would have been ready to kill him within a week . . . or less.

"Yes, Subir, I was. We appear to have a problem with the excavator you were operating earlier this morning."

"A problem, Father? It was functioning perfectly when I left it."

"Did you leave a load in the shovel?"

"Yes, but that was because I had no where to dump it. We had been working on exposing the new face of stone on the south rim. The trucks became backed up due to an accident at the dump site. We did not realize there was a problem until all of the trucks were full and there was nowhere to dump the load I had. The foreman told me to go on break while the trucks dumped their loads, so I moved the machine out of their way and left it."

Rajeev sighed inwardly. Moved it out of the way of the trucks that were working with him, and blocked the egress to the open pit where the majority of his other co-workers were operating. The man had a one-track mind . . . he simply couldn't recognize that there were other workers that had to be considered.

"Do you wish for me to move it, Father?"

"I am afraid that it is too late for that. The boom on the main shovel has broken, destroying the control center. There is nothing more we can do now but attempt to drag it off to one side. Report to the foreman, Subir. He will put you to work at something else."

"Yes, sir." Subir shambled out of the guard station and Rajeev watched his progress across the open ground with regret. He wished he could fire the man. The fact was that he was a hazard . . . both to the other men as well as to himself. Unfortunately, the Rafiq family elders were not the same kind of fool as their son, and had taken steps to ensure that Subir had a job for as long as he chose to work.

When Hadji had called him to his audience chamber almost a year ago to demand an explanation concerning the marriage plans for Kefira, Rajeev had been congratulating himself on locating such a good situation for his wayward daughter. The Rafiq family was an old and influential one and the match looked to benefit both parties, both financially and personally. Rajeev had been able to use their desire for a spouse for their dull, unambitious son to negotiate an outstanding dowry price for the union. At the time, he had felt that Subir would make an excellent husband for Kefira, stifling those characteristics that he felt were inappropriate for a woman. That the family demanded a guaranteed job for life for their less than brilliant only son seemed a small price to pay. But that was before he had the chance to meet the new Sultan in person.

Their first meeting had been innocuous enough. He had appeared in the main audience chamber, as directed by the Lady Neela and her Advisory Council, on the pretext of seeking the Sultan's advice on an issue relating to mining exports. Hadji had been courteous, if somewhat inattentive, and Rajeev had gotten the distinct impression that Hadji hadn't heard a word he said. This, he was to find out later, was a long way from the truth. Not much escaped that young man's eye. The second time he had met the young Sultan was at the marriage candidate reception. That evening he had looked shell-shocked, and Rajeev had felt a pang of sympathy for him. He remembered all too well what it had been like the first time he had met his wife, Anila. Rajeev could tell that he was trying to be pleasant and attentive, but it had been a long and difficult evening for everyone concerned, and Rajeev noticed that Hadji disappeared as early as he possibly could.

And then there was their third meeting . . .

Rajeev stopped, gazing out across the open ground at the men who were struggling to try to move the large pieces of the shattered excavator. He remembered that confrontation as if it had occurred only that morning. The young Sultan had been late . . . deliberately late, he came to realize later . . . and when he did appear, he was furious . . . a fury leveled directly at the father of a girl he had met only twice, and both times more or less only in passing. Perhaps Rajeev would never understand the immediate rapport that his daughter shared with Hadji Singh, but there was no denying its existence. She seemed to transform in his presence, becoming both more feminine . . . a trait he had never seen in her before . . . and more self-assured at the same time. Hadji listened to her seriously, never assuming that simply because she was female that she had nothing worthwhile to say; and he respected both her knowledge and her intelligence. Rajeev had watched in astonishment as his belovedly pesky middle child had blossomed into a self-confident, empowered young woman capable of handling the most recalcitrant of workers and yet still able to charm the most jaded of European buyers into deals that her father never would have dreamed of even attempting to negotiate.

Rajeev's only regret was the knowledge that, no matter what either of them said to the contrary, he knew that Kefira would never take up the family's business. If the Sultancy survived, she would be much too busy dealing with her responsibilities as Sultana and wife to the ruler of the country, to be involved in the day-to-day business of running the Subramanian mines. And should the Sultancy be dissolved in favor of some form of representative government . . . which was Hadji Singh's most fervent desire . . . Rajeev did not see the two of them remaining in Bangalore. The truth was that Hadji was not happy here, and hadn't been almost from the day he had discovered his true heritage. His mother might deny this, but no one else who had ever talked with the young man at any length would. He yearned for nothing more than to return to the life he had grown up with at the side of Benton Quest. Dr. Quest had opened horizons for Hadji that the people of Bangalore couldn't even begin to imagine. That's not to say that Hadji wouldn't be a good ruler . . . he had all of the right instincts and the determination to make them stick . . . it's just that he would never be truly happy doing it.

Rajeev sighed and continued on toward his office. He just wished that the political situation in the country were not so incendiary right now. For a long time, he had believed that if the Sultan would just come home to stay, things would settle down. But over the last several months he had come to realize that Hadji Singh was right . . . times had changed. With the advent of modern communications and global networks, the world had grown both infinitely smaller and yet increasingly larger. Even the most ignorant of the rural peoples had access to such things as telephones and televisions, if not at home then at least in a common location in the nearest village. And access to computers had grown at an astonishing pace. Every school in the nation now had at least one computer in every classroom, and all the students were expected to be able to use them. True, most of these modern conveniences hadn't reached the homes of the people, but it was coming. With the enthusiastic response Hadji's programs had received, it was only a matter of time. For the first time in their lives, the people were being encouraged to look at more than just the job many of them had been raised to do since infancy or the small plot of land that they farmed. Not only that, but when Hadji was here, he made it a point to go out among his people. He asked their opinions and he listened. And more often than not, he acted on what he saw. Rather than money and goods flowing endlessly into the Royal Palace never to be seen again, money flowed into the palace and came out again in other forms . . . health care clinics, libraries, road construction, education, community projects, and a host of other things designed with only one purpose in mind . . . to improve the lives of the people in Bangalore. His grasping, clawing, power-hungry Advisory Council might not see the benefits of such programs, but the people certainly did . . . and they backed the young Sultan enthusiastically.

Unfortunately, that support had a down side as well. As Rajeev pointed out to Hadji not so long ago, the more you educate the populace, the more opinions they have and the less tolerant they become of old behaviors. Minor skirmishes had broken out throughout the country when old, wealthy, hard-line landowners tried to force the people living and working their property into behaving as they had done for centuries. Where the peasants used to accept that lot in life philosophically, now they knew better and were just as likely to refuse to accept the edicts of those landowners . . . sometimes in a violent fashion. One group had even attempted a labor strike not long ago. So that's where things stood today. It was the primary reason Rajeev had strongly insisted for some months that Hadji stay out of the country. Were he to come back, the people would rally around him, and an attempted assassination, which Rajeev was now almost 95% certain was being planned, would be the trigger for spontaneous combustion. Settling at his desk, he stared at the surface without really seeing it. Well, I supposed you can say that it keeps life interesting, he thought dismally.

It was early afternoon by the time he finally gave in and acknowledged that there was no way they were going to be able to move the broken machinery. He called the manufacturer, explained the problem and arranged for a crew with special equipment to come in and collect the excavator. Unfortunately, it would be at least two weeks before they had anyone available who could do so. Reluctantly, he called his foreman in, arranged for a security staff for the site, and then closed it down. He assigned as many workers as possible to other locations, and the rest of them were notified that they would have the time off at half pay. None of them were disgruntled at the partial salary . . . anywhere else they would not have been paid at all.

Rajeev was in a sour mood by the time he arrived home, and all of the household servants recognized it the instant he walked through the door. They scurried out of his way hastily and the most senior of them immediately went looking for Anila. So he had been home less than five minutes when his wife appeared at his office door with a tray full of bite-sized morsels and a large pot of fresh, hot coffee. She served him deftly, not saying a word, but for some reason he suddenly felt better. He ate a few of the items she set in front of him and drank a cup of the coffee before he sighed and looked up at her with a wry smile.

"How is it you always seem to know what it is I need . . . exactly when I need it . . . even when I do not?"

She smiled at him fondly. "I have had a great many years of practice," she replied sedately. "Now, tell me what has happened."

He raised his eyebrows at her. "Why do you assume something has happened?"

"Because you are home hours too early, you had not eaten, and you were extremely distressed. So what is it?"

After a moment, he told her about the accident with the equipment and the shutdown of the mine. When he finished, he shook his head. "This shutdown will be a serious problem, Anila. We have a major order for a building in England and our contract has a substantial penalty clause if we are late in delivery. This is the only mine we have that has the stone that will meet the specifications of the contract. Any further delays . . . of any kind . . . and we will be forced into default."

Anila sat on the nearby divan and thought about what her husband had told her for some time. Finally, she asked quietly, "Tell me, my husband. Are you so sure that the problems you are having are all accidental?"

"You have a suspicious mind," he replied. Then he sighed. "As do I. I have asked myself several times recently if it is just coincidence that all of these things have happened now . . . just as the negotiations for the contracts with Birla Exports are reaching the crucial stages. First the closing of the northern routes . . . then mining accidents and equipment failures . . . and now this." He leaned back thoughtfully. "Did I ever tell you that I suspected that the problem that closed the northern route was deliberate?"

"I know that it was."

"What!? How?"

"Kefira told me."

"Kefira told you? And how does she know? I am aware that she feels she knows the geology of that area, but . . ."

Anila interrupted him. "She would never have based a statement of that sort on such a thin shred of evidence."

"Then how can she be so certain?"

"Because the road was not damaged in the rockfall. That occurred later."

Rajeev sat forward abruptly. "And how does she know that?" he demanded sternly.

It was Anila's turn to sigh. "Because she went up and looked at it . . . right after you received notification of the fall. She said that there were boulders lying in the middle of the road and there was a good deal of small debris and gravel, but the roadbed itself was undamaged."

"She . . . she went . . . ALONE????"

Anila nodded, careful not to allow her husband to see her amusement. Father and daughter were so much alike. Rajeev had wanted to go himself, but previously scheduled meetings on the export contracts had forced him to Bangalore City. By the time he was able to get up there . . . with an inspection team appointed by the Sultan's Advisory Council . . . the road had been totally destroyed.

"She said that she felt the upslope above the road had been deliberately dynamited, ensuring that the entire slope crumbled, taking the roadway with it, but she was unable to inspect it closely enough to be certain," she continued, unperturbed by her husband's obvious outrage.

"What ever possessed her to do such a thing?" he demanded. "What would have happened to her if one of those roving bands of marauders had captured her?"

"They did not do so," Anila replied practically, "and she said that the inspection needed to be made. Since you were unable to do it yourself, she chose to do it for you."

Rajeev leaned back in his chair weakly. "Have I ever told you how glad I am that the Sultan convinced me to send her away to school? I do not believe I would have survived her young adult years otherwise. And I still may not."

Anila laughed as she rose. "Yes, and you miss her terribly."

"More than I even care to admit."

She smiled and came to the desk to collect the dishes. "She is happy, my husband. That is what is important. Now, I will leave you to go back to work. There are things that I should be doing and they do not include sitting in your office annoying you."

He caught her hand and kissed it gently. "You never annoy me . . . you keep me sane."

She squeezed his hand and then released it and picked up the tray. "I will call you when dinner is ready."

It was some hours later when a commotion from the back of the house drew her out of the sewing room. Stepping out into the back courtyard, she saw one the boys from a family that lived further down into the valley. He was desperately trying to reach the house, while one of the household servants scolded him and tried to chase him away. Calling to the woman to release the boy, she gestured to him. He ran up to her, panting and babbling frantically.

"Coming . . . cars . . . on the road . . . many men!" The boy was positively rigid with fear and nothing that he was saying made any sense at all. She was attempting to calm him when, suddenly, one word stood out clearly and froze her where she stood. "Janissaries!"

Anila could literally feel the color drain from her face. The Janissaries were banned . . . by order of the Sultan! But if the boy was right . . .

She snapped an order at him that sent him running back toward home and then whirled and swept back into the house. As she passed the head houseman, she directed him to find Maia and Srinivasan and send them to the kitchen to wait for her. Then she went directly to her husband's study. Without even bothering to knock, she burst in and said, "Prepare yourself. We are about to have visitors . . . and I am told they include members of the Janissary."

Rajeev leaped to his feet and strode swiftly from the room. Mounting the steps to the second floor three at a time, he went directly to the large window that overlooked the front courtyard and the approach road to the house. Further down in the valley, he spotted a telltale plume of dust that signaled the approach of a number of vehicles. Turning back to Anila, who had followed him up the stairs, he said briskly, "Clear the servants from the front of the house. I do not want them encountering anyone that they might think they can use to set an example to others. Also, get the children out and as far away from here as you can. I do not doubt that they would not hesitate to use one of them to try to get me to do what they wish."

"But what do they want?" Anila said helplessly. "We have done nothing wrong. Janissaries . . . they are not even supposed to be allowed in the country."

Rajeev smiled grimly. "I support the poor people. That is enough for some. As for the Janissaries . . . there are those in the palace that once again support them. It was only a matter of time before they arrived here." He grasped her by the shoulders, looking down into her face seriously. "Should something happen, you are to take the children and go to Mumbai . . . to the business of Zail Lakshmanan. He and I have done business for a long time and can be trusted. Contact Sumant if you can. If not, then Kefira."

"But . . ."

He overrode her ruthlessly. "The message to both of them is the same . . . the Sultan must NOT return here, and he is to watch his back. They look to assassinate him and will stop at nothing." He stopped, thinking hard. Finally, he looked her straight in the eyes. "Then, you are to appeal to Dr. Benton Quest for sanctuary. I have no doubt that he will see to your safety and that of the children. Do you understand all of this?"

"But, Rajeev . . ." He could see fear stark in her face, but she struggled bravely to assimilate all he had told her.

"You must do as I say, Anila. I do not know why they are here, but this cannot be good. The presence of the Janissaries has only been a rumor to this point. If they are on my doorstep it can only mean that the men behind them are prepared to come out into the open, because they must know that I am loyal to the Sultan and will be sure to notify him of their reappearance. Now go . . . quickly. There is little time!"

She stared at him for a moment longer, then stepped forward, threw her arms around him, kissed him hard on the mouth, and then turned and fled down the stairs. Rajeev watched until she disappeared through the archway on the far side of the room, and then turned back to the window. His visitors seemed to be in some haste. All the better. Haste on the entry road to his home generally meant it would take twice as long to arrive . . . particularly if you didn't know the road. He watched as the roiling cloud of dust that marked their advanced seemed to check and hover stationary about a half a mile from the house. Rajeev smiled in grim amusement, suddenly grateful that he had never gotten around to replacing the narrow, rickety bridge at the base of the hill that crossed the small river that supplied their water. The bridge was not visible until you turned the sharp corner and then it was right there. Too much speed and you missed it altogether, landing in the river itself, or you struck one of the bridge abutments and ended up blocking the bridge until you could get it cleared. Hopefully, that error would give Anila the time she needed to get the children and herself to safety.

Turning, he descended to the first floor again. Crossing to the front door, he moved out into the front courtyard and stopped near the central fountain. All around, Anila's carefully tended flowers provided brilliant splashes of color amid the rippling sound of water and the sense of quiet peace. He only hoped that sense of peace was capable of tempering the coming confrontation.