THIRTY-SEVEN

“More tea, Colonel?”

“No, I’m good.”

The Rajah smiled behind his thin beard, and once again, Cutter was taken with the notion of how complicated human beings could be. Kay had it right: Look up “devious,” and there would be a picture of some sneaky-looking Homo sapiens next to it. Maybe one in a red turban.

Cutter shook his head.

“There seems to be something more on your mind,” the Rajah said.

“Just thinking about how things turned out.”

The Rajah leaned back. His form-chair shifted smoothly and silently as it adjusted to his new position. “My daughter is safe. Nothing else matters. Is the bonus payment sufficient?”

“More than generous, sir.”

“But…?”

Cutter looked him in the eyes. “But I hate to be lied to and used, even if I’m well compensated for it.”

The Rajah could have raised an eyebrow in pretend wonder. Why, Colonel, whatever are you talking about? But he only smiled a bit wider.

There was no question but that he knew exactly what they were talking about.

“You surprise me,” he said. “I did not expect you to see past Rama.”

“I’m not sure I would have, except that I have an XO who is a walking stress analyzer. She said Rama was telling the truth when he said he didn’t take Indira. Although by the time I knew that, it was too late for Rama. He would have killed me.”

“Ah. I keep forgetting about these unnatural things you people enjoy inserting into yourselves. We seldom indulge in such here.

“This does not automatically point at me, that Rama was not the one.”

“Well. If he was telling the truth and he didn’t do it, who did that leave? Who had the power to manipulate the situation? It would have to be somebody with major clout. The suspect list got very short when we started considering all those rich people who were involved. Who could get them to do what they did? Had to be somebody with power since they don’t need the money.

“Rama had such, but if he didn’t? Who else could it be? Who knew all the buttons to push? More importantly, who had inside access to all we were up to?”

The Rajah smiled and inclined his head.

“Your daughter—who I assume was never in any real danger—is back home. Was she part of it? Or did you use her as a pawn, too?”

There was a slight pause. “My daughter is an uncorrupted soul and a pearl of great value. She believes that Rama betrayed her. Eventually, he would have—it was his nature. She liked him, perhaps even loved him, despite the political aspect of their engagement, but he would have disappointed her. Only a matter of time.

“Women are attracted to men with a certain streak of cruelty. This is because women have that in them, too. You know the old saying, ‘If you are captured in battle, don’t let them give you to the women.’”

Cutter nodded. “And Rama, her cruel, ambitious, headstrong suitor, is dead, leaving his father, a weak rajah, running Pahal. A likable man, but one without strength, as you pointed out.

“How long before you install a puppet in his place?”

The Rajah shrugged. “Who can know the minds of the gods? Why do they take this one and leave that one? They are ever capricious. A healthy man falls over with a bad heart a week after his doctor told him he was fine? It happens all the time.”

“So you have Mumbai, and soon, you will run Pahal. The thakoredom of Balaji is now more pliable as a result of your generous peace accord, and Rama is out of the way. There are better trade agreements favoring you, a less restrictive border, more access to their markets. And the Thakore might have an accident, too.

“Can Depal and Hem be far behind?”

“They are of lesser importance, but, yes, you are right, I cannot help but think that their governments will come to see the benefits of accepting our counsel and wisdom in the not-too-distant future.

“One way or another…”

“And you rule the world.”

“Well, not the world; but this continent, which is, for all intents and purposes, the only part of the planet worth ruling. If, of course, the gods will it.”

“And if somebody gives them a little help.”

Ramal smiled. “The gods smile upon those with initiative. And I am not a despotic, cruel man—my people love and respect me, and with just cause. I have been good to them. Nothing changes, save I can be benevolent to more souls.”

Cutter shook his head. “You played us like a master.”

“I have been Rajah for a long time. I took especial care that the clues not be too easy to find. And that there were many leading to assorted dead ends, to delay things.”

“Like the Rel?”

“I thought that one clever. One more thing for you to puzzle over. What could it mean? It must mean something, yes? Some kind of great conspiracy if it involved aliens? Wheels within wheels, as many as I thought necessary. I did underestimate you, but not all that much.”

“And enough fingers were pointed at Rama so we had to think it was him. Udiva, the cloth merchant? We asked you to help us get to her—after you aimed us in her direction. Putting Indira in the middle of Rama’s camp? Brilliant. How could it be anybody but Rama?”

The Rajah gave him a small nod, acknowledging the compliment. “I thought those particularly effective myself. Those alone were enough to sell the story, yes?”

“And if we’d captured him instead if killing him?”

The Rajah shrugged. “After you were gone, there would have been a trial. Rama would be condemned. I would be magnanimous, I would commute his death penalty to life imprisonment. A year or two or five later, Rama would have had an accident, or some sudden and fatal illness. Dead, Rama would no longer be any danger to my plans.”

Cutter said, “Was the assassination attempt real?”

“Of course not. Merely a way to start you down the proper path. My daughter kidnapped, an assault on my person, which you thwarted, as I knew you would. My personal guards are completely loyal. None would have fired at me. They died accepting of their fates, honored to have been chosen, secure in the knowledge their families would be cared for. I was thus established as the focus of somebody’s evil intent, you would be somewhat more invested, and at the cost of a few guards.”

“You are a piece of work, aren’t you?”

“But, Colonel, why should this trouble you so? You came to do a job. True, it was a sham, but you did it. It will be counted as a credit to your record, and I will be lavish in my recommendations to any who should ask. Your contract has been satisfied, payment tendered, a bonus that is, as you said, quite generous. None of your people died. You may go on about your business, richer and, dare I say, wiser? And my position is improved upon my own humble planet. A hand that might have eventually put a gun into my back has been stilled. Peace has been restored. All is well that ends well, no?”

Cutter stood. Not much he could say to that.

The Rajah stayed in his chair.

“We’ll be breaking down our camp and leaving as soon as possible.”

“I have disappointed you.”

“I’m just a hired sword. It doesn’t matter what I think.”

“Ultimately, yes, that is true, Colonel. You are the blade, but I was the hand that used you. Isn’t that what usually happens?”

Cutter nodded. “I guess so.”

He turned and walked away.

Behind him, he could almost hear the Rajah’s smile.

The motherfucker.