A Flight of Broken Wings: Aeriel Trilogy #1

Chapter 142

Rifles fired into the air as Subhas's sifblade was placed upon his chest, his hands folded over the weapon one last time. Finally, followed by hundreds of mourners – most of whom were stopped at the gates by uniformed soldiers – his body was carried into the crematorium. Ruban followed the pallbearers out of the grounds, leaving Hiya in the care of the Vaz's.

He was going to bid a final farewell to the doting uncle he had known all his life, not the traitor he had met less than a week ago in that nightmarish house.

It was past midnight by the time the place had finally cleared of mourners. Hiya was all but asleep on her feet, leaning heavily against Ashwin as they walked towards the cab together. Ruban couldn't really say he felt much better himself, though he had far more practice at hiding his exhaustion.

It was a skill that came in handy at times like these. Ruban schooled his features into an expression of placid solemnity as a young man with a press card around his neck and a recorder in his hand intercepted them, moments before they had reached the waiting car.

"E-excuse me, sir." The man wore large, thick-rimmed glasses. In the darkness, Ruban could just about make out the dark-circles under his owlish eyes. He looked tired and dishevelled, and less interested in Ruban than Ruban was in him. It quelled some of the instinctive anger that had flared in his breast at the sight of the intruder.

"Yes?" he raised an eyebrow. "How may I help you?"

"I-I just had a few questions, sir," the youth stammered, apologetic, looking as though he wanted the earth to open up under his feet and swallow him whole. "If you could just give me a few minutes of your time..."

"Go ahead," Ruban's eyes found the press card dangling from his neck. "Mohit." He wasn't really in the mood, but a part of him felt bad for the boy. He was obviously a rookie, possibly some hapless intern plunged into the deep end by incompetent management. But another part of him was aware that he would have to do this, sooner or later. And better to get it over with here, with a cub reporter barely old enough to grow a beard, than face the likes of Casia Washi with her incessant, incisive cross-questioning in a studio full of analysts and seasoned newsmen.

The boy – Mohit – looked like he hadn't expected the acquiescence, and fumbled for a few seconds trying to find his notes, mumbling incomprehensible apologies along the way. "I-um," assembling the papers in his hands in what Ruban supposed was the proper order; "I mean to say, I'd like to ask you sir, now that Tauheen is dead and her followers have scattered, has the IAW recovered the missing formula? Or if not, do they have any knowledge of where Tauheen might have hidden it?"

"Not to my knowledge, no. We didn't find it when we killed her. And I am not actively involved in any of the further investigation, so I am perhaps not the best person to answer your question. But so far as my knowledge is concerned," he said, his tone grave. "The reinforced sifblade formula stolen by Tauheen from the SifCo facility is yet to be found. Of course, I am sure that even as we speak, the IAW is doing everything in its power to get it back."

Mohit nodded, scribbling something on a piece of paper. "Could it have been..." he paused, as if searching for the right words. "Is it possible that the formula might have been destroyed during your, ah, your battle with the Aeriel Queen?"

Ruban nodded. "It is very possible. Indeed, I would say it's the likeliest possibility. Tauheen, after all, would not have kept something as precious, as dangerous as the sifblade formula lying around while she wandered the country. It's very possible that she had the disk on her person when she arrived at the villa. And as I'm sure you know, the battle that finally killed her, killed my uncle...it was very destructive. She nearly burned the house down before she died. The fire destroyed what was left of her body, and half the hall. I wouldn't be surprised at all, if the disk was destroyed in that fire. Though, of course," he went on, just in case he had been too enthusiastic about the prospect, "I hope as much as anyone else that it's still intact and will soon be recovered."

Mohit didn't seem to care one way or the other and was scribbling away with an abandon that amused Ruban. "Anything else?" he prompted gently. Thunder sounded in the distance and Ruban felt a few drops of rain hit his face. They needed to get back home.

"Umm, just one more thing, sir," the boy said, his voice gaining in confidence. "How will the IAW deal with the recent revelations of the murders, abductions and other atrocities carried out by Tauheen and her confederates in their bid to coerce and influence high-ranking officials and lawmakers? And how will they investigate the allegations of corruption within their own ranks?"

"Well,Tauheen is dead. She has paid for her crimes in the only way she could. And asfor the rest," he sighed, feeling fatigue creep into every fibre of his body."We have a long way to go yet, it's true. But we won't get there by beingafraid of the journey. We took one step today. Tomorrow, we'll take another.It's not much, but it's all that I can promise you." He held out his hand. "Andfor now, we better get going before we end up getting ourselves stuck in athunderstorm."