Chapter Thirty-seven


"I do not want to hear excuses," Arun Birla said ominously. "I want to hear that you have found Neela Singh and that she is safely locked in the dungeons."

"And what purpose would it serve for me to tell you that, Excellency?" the Captain of the Janissary guard questioned sarcastically. "Particularly since it is not true."

Birla stared at the man with intense dislike. He was arrogant and swaggering and showed absolutely no respect . . . but he was ruthlessly good at what he did, so he had been prepared to overlook much. The man was beginning to try his patience, however . . .

"Have a care, Captain," he warned ominously. "Your tone borders on treason."

The other man laughed derisively. "Or you will do what? Have me shot? Then where would you be? My men would not follow you. They are only too aware of how you treat subjects you no longer have any use for. And the truth is that your Royal Guard is still loyal to the Sultan. You certainly cannot trust them!"

"I am Sultan!"

"No, you are not. As long as Hadji Singh and his mother remain alive, you will never be Sultan. You have miscalculated, Excellency. Singh is much more popular than you anticipated, as are his allies. You should never have murdered Rajeev Subramanian. His death has galvanized the rural populace. You expected them to be like sheep, running and hiding at the first sign of trouble. Instead, you have gotten tigers . . . young, untrained and still learning to hunt, true . . . but tigers, all the same. Not only do they fight when cornered, they have taken to stalking their prey . . . deliberately seeking out the enemy with an intent to destroy. The only thing that is saving you right now is that they are still disjointed . . . they have no strong leader. If the Sultan reappears to lead them . . .

"Hadji Singh is like his father," Birla cut in contemptuously. "A bookworm with no stomach for a fight. Even if he were to reappear among the people, all he would do is try to calm the masses and then talk and talk and talk. We don't need to fear a holy war from that one."

The captain shrugged. "It need not be Sultan Singh. All it will take is one person with the strength and savvy to lead the people on his behalf and you will lose, particularly if the Sultan and his mother are still at large."

"Then find her!" Birla commanded harshly. "Find them both! I still do not understand how young Singh continues to slip through your grasp. He was traveling openly . . ."

"He was warned," the Captain interrupted. "It is the only answer. We know he arrived on a flight from New York to London with another . . . a tall, fair-haired young man about the same age . . ."

"His so-called brother," Birla said with distaste. "The Quest boy, obviously."

The man shrugged, accepting Birla's assessment. "They deplaned and all indications said they were making their way toward the gate for their connecting flight. And then . . . nothing. My men lost them in the crowds, and they never showed up for their new flight. Somewhere between, someone must have warned them of trouble."

"How?" Birla demanded harshly. "Subramanian was dead, so he could not have warned him. The boy has not attempted to call his mother since their last phone conversation almost a week ago. And I saw to it that his answering machine was filled so there was no way for anyone to leave a message."

"Yes, but you were slow to disable the answering machine." The guard captain shook his head. "Consistently, you underestimate your enemies. If you do not learn from this mistake it will be your undoing."

"You are not a prophet!" Birla snarled. "Just find the Sultan and his mother and kill them both!" Then, with a swirl of brilliantly colored robes, he turned and swept out of the room.



~ ~ ~ ~ ~



Vijay watched through the spy hole that overlooked Birla's personal quarters as Birla and the Captain of the Janissary Guard argued. He was flooded with relief as his greatest fear was allayed. With Hadji Singh alive there was a still a chance to stop Birla. Stepping away from his observation post, Vijay turned and moved swiftly down the dark, stuffy passageway. It was time to find the Regent and pass on what he has learned.

The two of them had been hiding in these passageways watching the activities of the Palace for five days now. Other than occasional late night forays for food and water, they had remained hidden and totally out of contact with anyone. Certain that her son was on his way to Bangalore, Neela had set herself the task of learning as much as she could so the information would be available to Hadji when he arrived. Today she had directed him to find out how the Council members were feeling about Birla's moves toward taking the throne. He had spent the majority of the morning flitting from one clandestine spot to another and he had discovered a number of interesting facts.

First, of the twelve members of the Council, three were open supporters of the Sultan and his policies. They were all younger members, mostly from middle-class families who had worked hard to get to the positions they currently held. The three had vision and understood the Sultan's goals and were devoted to them. Add himself to that count, and the Sultan had four men he could count on for support without question. Birla had four men that were equally voracious in support of him, and all of them came from the old families that held extreme wealth and power.

That left four men whose loyalties were, at best, questionable. As Hadji had begun to revise the composition of his Advisory Council, one of the things he had insisted on was that there were to be representatives from the entire spectrum of Bangalore life. So, over the strenuous objections of the older members, he had added people that traditionally were considered little more than slaves. One was a poor farmer from the northern borders of Bangalore. He was quiet and much smarter than the others gave him credit for, and Vijay had liked him immediately. The problem, as Vijay saw it, was that jurisdictionally, he and his family fell within the Rafiq family's sphere of influence, and they were firm Birla supporters. And while the man himself stayed in quarters at the Palace most of the time, his family had been forced to remain at their home in the northern provinces to continue farming. This meant that pressure could be brought to bear on him by threatening his family, and Vijay was fairly certain that this had occurred more than once already.

The second man was a middle-level manager who worked for one of Arun Birla's many shipping enterprises. Not the Sultan's original choice for the vacant seat, the man had moved into the Council as a result of the death of his brother who had been the original appointee to the position. Birla had pushed hard for the man to succeed his brother, stating that family ascendancy to Council positions was traditional, and since both men worked in the same industry, it did not disrupt the compositional balance. The problem with that solution was that while both worked in the shipping industry, Hadji's appointee had worked for a rival shipping company, where his brother worked for Birla . . . . a point that the Sultan could hardly use as a basis to disqualify the man.

The final two members were new additions and had been seated for less than a month. Both were from Bangalore City and worked as laborers in manufacturing plants . . . and both were women. Neither had been received with any cordiality when their appointments had been announced. Vijay had no sense of their loyalties at all, since they largely kept to themselves and said very little when the Council was in session.

As for loyalties outside the Council, that was also a major question. The Royal Guard were faithful to the Sultan . . . hopefully. Birla had made a mistake bringing in Janissaries again. It had caused much dissension and probably turned those guardsmen who would have followed him back toward the Sultan. But loyalties could be so changeable that it was hard to predict what would happen within the Palace walls if open conflict erupted. And today's information gathering session had provided no firm answers to that question.

Vijay's mouth set in a stubborn line. One way or the other, he had to convince the Lady Neela to leave the Palace. He had been trying desperately to get her away since he returned with the news of Rajeev's death, but she had steadfastly refused to leave. She insisted that Hadji would need every scrap of information they could gather and that as long as they stayed within the hidden passages, they were safe enough.

But Birla was no fool. He had served Vikram while he lived and the despot's ability to appear almost magically, and to know everything that went on in the palace, indicated another way of getting around within the Palace. He suspected that these passages existed and had been searching for them ever since he moved in. Had the man concentrated on his own quarters and done an intensive search there, he might actually have found them. But he was so arrogant that for a long time he believed that no one would have the nerve to spy on him. After Rajeev's murder, he did institute a search, but by then it was too late. Knowing how much of a threat he posed, Vijay had disabled the access mechanism and barricaded the door. Slowly, Birla was once again beginning to believe that his quarters were safe. But Vijay knew that they were still living on borrowed time. He had to get the Regent away before Birla's men located the passages and she was captured.

He searched for her for some time before he finally located her in the niche that allowed visual access to the throne room. Several members of the Council were waiting impatiently and the murmur of their voices contained an undercurrent of disquiet. Vijay noted that it was the "faithful four" that waited. He grasped her arm and tugged, indicated that he wished to speak with her, but she shook her head silently and gestured at him to wait. Vijay moved up and stood beside her, watching the four men. There was little doubt that they were upset and getting more so by the minute. Finally, the door opened and Birla strode in.

"What is it that you want?" he snapped testily.

"There is trouble, Excellency . . ." one of the men replied, stepping forward hesitantly.

"What sort of trouble?"

"There are rumors of impending riots following the incident earlier this morning. The people are . . ."

"Being taken care of," Birla replied sharply, cutting the man off. "I have already sent a squad of Janissaries out into the streets to quell the growing unrest."

"But, Sire, when word of this reaches out into the countryside, it is only going to make matters worse," another of the men protested. "The rural populace is starting to band together. Troops have already been openly attacked, and . . ."

"It will be dealt with," Birla replied once more. "I have already given instructions that authorize our troops to spare no quarter when it comes to dealing with the insurgents. Making an example of a few of their leaders will take care of the problem quickly enough."

The eldest of the five men in the room replied evenly, "I would respectfully point out, Excellency, that your attempt to use Rajeev Subramanian as an example to the people is a large part of the reason we are currently in this position. Are you certain a more circumspect approach might not be in order? Surely a public statement by the Regent would do much to calm the unrest."

Birla glared at the man. "I would certainly recommend that the Lady Neela make such a statement if I thought the benefits outweighed the risks. However, it would be too dangerous for her to appear in public right now. Also, she is extremely distressed by the disappearance of her son, and I do not wish to put her under any additional strain at this time. Right now she chooses to remain in seclusion and I believe that it is for the best. We will simply have to cope as best we can until the Sultan's return."

"There is still no word on his whereabouts?" the older man asked.

"No. The last person to see him was the Indian ambassador, Mr. Tilak, last Thursday. Lady Neela talked with him later that day and that was the last anyone has heard."

"This would not be happening if he had remained here where he belongs rather than running off to America all of the time," one of them muttered angrily.

"Enough!" Birla said sharply. "It is not our place to question the Sultan's decisions. I will advise the Regent of your concerns and ask that you continue to apprise me of anything that you feel the Regent should know. Now I must go. I am late for another appointment." Turning abruptly, Birla strode from the room without another word.

"I do not like it," the first man complained. "Where is the Sultan? And why is it that the Regent is refusing to see us?"

The older man looked thoughtful, but said only, "There is little we can do other than follow Mr. Birla's suggestion. Do the best you can to calm the people that look to you and be certain to let me know what you hear. For now, we will wait for instructions from the Sultan." As the four men turned to file out of the throne room, Neela caught Vijay's arm and gestured for him to follow. Silently, the two made their way through the passages until they reached a little used area where they could talk safely. As she turned back toward him, Vijay could see fear written plainly on her face.

"Hadji has disappeared? If Mr. Birla's men have taken him . . ."

"They have not," Vijay hastened to reassure her. Quickly, he told her of the conversation he had overhead between Arun Birla and the Captain of the Janissary guard. "I can only assume that he got the message that I left for him or that Tarang Kumar finally got through and warned him of the danger." He looked thoughtful as he contemplated what he had overhead. "Did it seem to you, Excellency, that those men appeared disturbed by the manner in which Mr. Birla is handling this situation?"

"I would think that they would be disturbed, Mr. Patel. Everyone should be."

But Vijay continued to stare blindly into the darkness, acting as if he hadn't heard her. Finally, he murmured softly, "Maybe his hold on them isn't as strong as he thinks it is . . ." Then he seemed to shake himself out of his reverie and looked down at Neela once more. Reaching out, he caught her hands. "Please, Excellency," he pleaded, "we must get you away from here. If Mr. Birla captures you, he will not hesitate to use you to force your son into his hands. It is a risk we cannot take. Allow me to get you away from here. I will take you to my family near Panjal province. The people in that area will ensure that Mr. Birla's soldiers do not capture you." Vijay could see Neela hesitate and he pushed his advantage. "They search for the access to these passages, Excellency. Mr. Birla suspects they are here. It is only a matter of time until he locates one and then you will not be safe. We must escape now . . . before he finds his way here."

"But what if Hadji . . . "

"He did not take the flight to Bangalore," he reminded her. "It is obvious he was warned away. And as closely as the Janissary watch the entrances into the country, I do not believe he will be able to get in. We must get away from here . . . to somewhere that we can be certain the phones are safe. Then we will call his home in America. He is sure to be back there by that time and we can find out what he wishes for us to do. Please, Excellency. I really do not believe that we have much time. We must go now."

Her shoulders slumped and she sighed softly. "Very well. What do you wish to do?"

Vijay thought quickly. He had been keeping a close watch on the comings and goings at the back door and he knew that getting out of the palace was going to be extremely difficult. Birla was not stupid. He suspected that the Regent was still within these walls somewhere . . . most likely hidden in the inner passages . . . and he did not wish for her to slip away from him. Because of this, all exits to the palace were watched very closely. Vijay knew that if they were to get away safely, some way had to be found to distract the guards away from one of the doors. He had no idea how he was going to accomplish that yet, but one way or the other, he would find a way.



~ ~ ~ ~ ~



Jonny and Hadji stood motionless, watching the shifting crowds in the cafeteria from the safety of the back passageways. No specific conversations were audible over the general hubbub that filtered through the access slits, but the overall tone seemed shrill and brittle to Jonny. He glanced over at his brother and watched as a frown creased his brow. Whatever he saw in that room was not making him happy. Hadji looked over at Jonny and gestured silently with his head that he wanted to leave. Carefully covering the access slits with a security panel, the two moved silently away from the crowded room. A short time later, Hadji stopped in the dusty passage and turned to Jonny.

"It is imperative that I talk with someone who knows what has been going on," he said in a low voice. "I had hoped to find Vijay Patel, but he does not appear to be anywhere in the palace."

"Is there anyone else you can trust?" Jonny replied in the same low tone.

Hadji hesitated for a long time. "Perhaps . . ." he began cautiously, but Jonny cut him off sharply.

"No. If you're that hesitant about it, then we can't risk it."

"What else can we do? We dare not make any moves without knowing exactly what has transpired."

"Then we just have to wait until Patel shows up again."

"We cannot!" Hadji exclaimed, scrubbing at his face in frustration.

Jonny eyed him with serious concern in the jerky shadows cast by their flashlights. "Calm down. What's wrong with playing a little of the waiting game? No one knows we're here and we're in the perfect position to collect the information we need with the least amount of risk. Something's eating at you. What is it, Hadj?"

For a long time, Hadji was silent, staring blindly into the darkness around them. Finally, he looked back at Jonny and said softly, "Something very, very bad has happened. I can feel it. I do not know what it is, but the sense of it permeates the very air. Jonny, Bangalore is on the precipice of war. I have tried my best to bring my country into the modern age, but Vikram's greed and power-hungry nature created a deep division in our people. What I offered was the chance for everyone to have a better life and the poor peasants have jumped at the opportunity. But the wealthy see my changes as a threat to their positions of power and influence . . ."

"Which they are," Jonny pointed out gently.

"Yes, they are," he acknowledged with a sigh. "But it is time that things are shaken up. I knew that there were those men who were attempting to put a stop to the changes I was making, and ever since the first of the year I have felt that I should return and try to address some of the growing issues."

"Why didn't you?"

Hadji gestured helplessly. "Many reasons. Father was so shaken after the attack by Baxter and his men that I did not feel it was prudent to leave the country. I had also committed to Mother and my Advisory Council that I would move with all possible haste to complete my education, and the opportunity to gain early admission to Columbia was a step toward fulfilling that promise. And then, Rajeev was urging me strongly not to return at that time. He kept saying that it was dangerous to upset the balance that had formed." Hadji sighed softly. "And I really did not wish to leave, so it was not hard to convince me."

Jonny shook his head ruefully. "I'll tell you, Hadj, you've just got to do something about this Sultan business. No one should have to do something they hate so much."

"It is what I was born to do," Hadji replied glumly.

"Bullshit. You don't know what you were born to do. When we first met, you were a street performer and thief in the gutters of Calcutta. If you insist on it, I could probably make a good argument that you were born to do that, too. And at least you were happy doing that, which is more than you can say for being Sultan of Bangalore. Truth is, none of us are born to do anything. We find our way as we grow up. The fact that your dad . . . your birth father . . . was Sultan of Bangalore doesn't mean that's the best choice of occupation for you any more than my birth father being a research scientist means that's the best choice for me. If we're smart, we find what we're good at and what we enjoy doing, and that's what we make our life's work. Let's face it, that's what Dad did. You can bet that's not the life Grandmother and Grandfather Quest would have chosen for him!"

Hadji snorted softly. "If some of the stories I have heard about them are true, I believe you are correct."

"I know I am. I remember them. But look, this probably isn't the time to be discussing family history. You say you want to talk to Vijay Patel. I think the thing to do is find out where he is and put the two of you in contact with each other."

"How do you propose to do that?"

"I'm gonna go ask for him."

"Jonny, we cannot do that! If Birla or one of his men should catch us . . ."

"Not us . . . me. You're gonna stay right here."

"No! It is too dangerous . . ."

"Hadji, listen to me. As I see it, we've got three choices. One, we can walk openly into the Palace, call Birla a traitor, and try to bull our way through. I figure the chances that we walk out of that one alive are next to zero. Two, we can call the information gathering foray into the Palace a partial success, cut our losses, and get out of here. That option is a whole lot safer, but may not be the best idea in the long run if our goal is to see to it that no one dies."

"No more than have already done so," Hadji replied grimly, thinking about the men at the palace gate that morning.

"The third option is to stay here a bit longer, find Vijay Patel and get some real answers. I honestly think that's our best bet, but we aren't having any luck finding him this way. So our next best choice is simply to ask." Jonny shook his head at the look on his brother's face. "No one is going to know me, Hadji. Right now, I doubt even Dad would recognize me if he met me on the street. There's no way anyone here will. And my Hindi is good enough to pass. You've seen to that. What we do is find me some clean clothes someplace, and then I'll go openly through the palace to Mr. Patel's office and ask for him. I can say I've got a message for him that has to be delivered personally. You follow my progress in the passages, and as soon as I track him down, I'll get him into a deserted room and we can slip him into the passageways where you can talk to him safely." Jonny watched as Hadji contemplated the idea with distaste. "It's the best way, Hadji. You know it is."

"It is very dangerous, Jonny."

In the dim light, Jonny grinned at his brother. "Yeah. Ain't it a rush? Come on, let's find something for me to wear."