Simani strolled lazily through the little yard surrounding the Quarters, a cigarette dangling loosely from her fingers. She was finally back at the office after a gap of over half a month, not that it was doing her much good. She was to be chained firmly to the desk for another couple of weeks at least; no field-work for her until the damned doctors gave her a clean chit of health. It was all profoundly frustrating.
As she turned a corner near the back of the building, a hand grabbed her and pulled her unceremoniously into an alcove between the red-brick walls.
"Not that I don't appreciate the interest, Ashwin," she said in a level voice to the dishevelled-looking boy who still held her loosely around her wrist, his eyes bright with what she thought might have been excitement. Her own hand had gone instinctively to the holster at her belt. "But you do realise I could have killed you if I'd had just a tad bit less self-control. Or if you hadn't been just a tad bit too pretty to disfigure."
Ashwin laughed, and the sound reminded her vaguely of the slow tinkling of temple bells during Friday prayers. "Sorry to startle you, Simani. But I really did need to speak with you. I need your help."
"And help you would've had even if you'd waited another ten minutes for me to get back into the office."
Ashwin shook his head emphatically. "No, no. This is...secret. We can't let Ruban find out we're doing this. That's why I couldn't talk to you inside," he glanced furtively at the main entrance before shaking his head again, loose strands of hair flying everywhere.
Simani felt her skin prickle with something that wasn't exactly suspicion, but was close enough. "What do you mean? Why can't Ruban know about whatever this is?"
Ashwin made a face. "'Cause he would never allow it, is why. He's no fun whatsoever." He shook his head sadly. "I'm only trying to help. But he'll be all up in my face threatening to drive that damned knife into my throat, I just know it. So, it's got to be you. You've got to help me get the tapes."
"Tapes? What tapes?"
"The SifCo tapes, of course," Ashwin said matter-of-factly. Then, when Simani continued to stare at him uncomprehendingly, he elaborated with the longsuffering sigh of one surrounded by his intellectual inferiors. "The security tapes at SifCo. There must have been surveillance cameras in the building. Particularly in the room with the formula, the one which Tauheen attacked. I need the footage of the fight – you know, between Ruban and Tauheen."
"What for?" asked Simani, frowning. "That's evidence, Ashwin. Vital evidence in an ongoing investigation. You can't just walk in and take those tapes."
"Of course I can't. That's the whole point. That's why I need you. We still have the case for another week, so you have all the access you need. You can get the tapes for me."
"But what for? What will you do with them?"
"I'll keep my promise," he said, looking earnestly into her eyes. "I said I'll do what I can to help Ruban keep the SifCo case. And I plan to keep my word."
Simani took a drag of her cigarette, then threw it down, putting it out with the heel of her boot. In truth, she had no real reason to doubt Ashwin's sincerity. He had been with them for almost two months and in all that time had shown no signs of wanting anything but to see the case through, as he had originally claimed during their first meeting at the IAW. Looking at him now, she couldn't detect any signs of deception on his face. Still, Simani had never been a particularly trusting person to begin with, and four years at Bracken had beaten any remaining shreds of gullibility out of her system. "Fine, I can get you the tapes," she said, looking at him through narrowed eyes, watching to see his reaction. "But first, you have to tell me what you plan to do with them."
If Simani had expected to see hesitation in Ashwin's eyes, she did not find it. Instead, they lit up with what she thought was amusement, and he just laughed some more. "Show the world what we already know, of course," he said easily. "That there couldn't be anyone better suited to handle this case than Ruban."
Simani sighed. She had a feeling it was just as well that she didn't know anything more about this hare-brained scheme than this. Plausible deniability certainly had its uses. "Alright, I'll get you the tapes. I'll need to get in touch with the IAW, though. That's where all the evidence is stored. It might take a couple of days."
Ashwin's eyes widened. "IAW?" he said incredulously. "No, no, don't do that. We go straight to SifCo. They'll have a copy of the footage. And they'll give it to you if you ask – just for a while, of course, so we can make a copy of our own. You're a Hunter, and involved with this case. You can just tell them you need it for the investigation and they won't suspect a thing."
"But why?" asked Simani, baffled. "Why go through all that trouble when I can just get it from the IAW? As you said, I still have access in this case."
"Because, Simani," Ashwin began, the longsuffering tone back. "If you withdraw evidence from the IAW, there'll be an official record of it. It would be far harder to explain away than a casual chat with some junior security staff at SifCo."
Simanilooked up at the sky – the day was remarkably clear for monsoon – and prayed toheaven for the patience to deal with the Zainian without putting a bulletthrough his head. "Alright Ashwin," she said finally, leaning back against thewall to get a better look at his face. "We'll go to SifCo tonight."