Djinn City, page 11
“What are you actually doing?”
“Look closely,” Juny said. “I’m investigating djinns, just like you.”
The books on the walls were occult histories, from crackpot fiction to studies by respected anthropologists. There were rare volumes in there, even books in different languages. She had Kaikobad’s notebooks and the remainder of his entire library neatly cataloged, plus charts listing missing pieces as well as her own observations.
“He sold off so much,” Juny said. “I’ve been trying to get it all back.”
“Mother, this is incredible,” Rais said. He was studying the whiteboard. It was an organizational chart of emissaries and djinn, their links, details of sightings, known associates, habits, aliases, even the most outrageous rumors.
“When I couldn’t find Dargoman, I expanded my investigation to all of djinnkind. See, it’s easy when you know for real that they exist. Once the curtain falls, it’s possible to see their spoor everywhere,” Juny said.
“Indelbed’s mother,” Rais said. “I can’t believe my own aunt was a real live djinn.”
“That’s the tricky thing with djinn,” Juny said. “They’ve lived among us for thousands of years. It’s hard to find them unless they want you to.” She took out a dossier. “Nevertheless, this is what I have gathered about her. She has a brother, called Matteras, who is a very prominent djinn, one of the leaders of the arch-conservative faction. I have tried to get in touch with him many times, hoping he would interest himself in his nephew, but to no avail. He is apparently antihuman.”
“What about our own emissary position? Can we investigate Uncle Kaikobad’s past for clues?”
“I have identified several djinn whom Kaikobad mentions by name in his notes. Deciphering those took two years, by the way; his handwriting was a marvelous example of cryptography,” Juny said. “I have been writing to them, asking for information, begging for meetings, even bartering Kaikobad’s auctoritas. So far I have received a couple of messages, but nothing significant. No meetings have been granted to me.”
“That’s it?” Rais looked disappointed. He waved his arm around the room. “What’s all of this then?”
“I extended the search to emissary families. There, I have been much more successful. Emissaries still live in the human world, and they require real currency and physical assets. I have been able to identify and contact eight living emissaries in Asia. Five responded, and one of them writes to me regularly, in return for favors.”
“Favors?”
“I got him out of jail in Singapore. He got drunk one night, broke into a mall, and fell asleep in a Starbucks. Naturally they took him to jail in the morning. The Singaporean consul here is a friend of mine. His brother-in-law happens to be a police officer in the Tanglin Division. Long story short, they let him off with a stern warning and a very big fine. Which I took care of, naturally,” Juny said. “Much of what I’ve learned—names, relationships, et cetera—is from him.”
“What about GU Sikkim? Doesn’t he know anything about Uncle’s past?”
“Your father and GU Sikkim have not been… helpful,” Juny said. “They are the only ones who know everything. I believe they might be involved somehow. I am conducting this investigation in secret, which has slowed me down. If you join me, you must be clear that this is dangerous and might pit you against your own family.”
“Mother, I have dreamed of djinns ever since that day,” Rais said. “I can think of nothing else. I’ve wandered the earth looking for them. I can’t go back to the regular world, get a nine-to-five job. I’m ready to do this. It seems like I’ve been waiting my whole life for it.”
“You wish to become an emissary?”
“More than anything,” Rais said.
“Are you absolutely sure? There will be no going back from this, Rais.”
“I know.”
“And your cousin? Do you want power or do you want justice?” Juny asked. “Let me be clear, my son. I believe a crime has been done, and it was done under my nose, it was perpetrated in my name, and this I cannot condone. He is our family. If he is still alive, I will bring him back. If he is dead, I’ll make damn sure someone regrets it.”
“Mother, do you want this because of what happened to Indelbed or because you hate being crossed?”
“It’s the same thing.”
“Mother, I swear that I will not rest until we find out what happened to Indelbed,” Rais said. “I swear to God.”
“Then let this be our cover,” Juny said. “You will let your father know of your ambition to take the place of the comatose Kaikobad. I know something about the workings of emissaries. The rank is usually passed on within the same family, but it must be ratified by the djinn.”
“So I can inherit Kaikobad’s post?”
“That is the argument we can make.”
“Is there an apprenticeship?”
“It is Kaikobad’s job to train his own replacement,” Juny said, “which he cannot do, obviously. He is also supposed to introduce you to a patron djinn, his own or some other sympathetic creature. Finally, you must go to Bahamut, who is one of the chief djinns of this region, a Marid of great dignatas. He will formally ratify you as an emissary by giving you his mark, the tattoo that Kaikobad has on his back.”
“So we are stuck again,” Rais said.
“GU Sikkim knows a lot more about djinns than he is letting on,” Juny said. “You will start by pestering him day and night. I readily acknowledge that my understanding of Kaikobad was imperfect. His family portrayed him as an insane drunk. He was certainly that, but he was also a man of some genius. He was immensely well respected in some circles. You must impress upon Grand-Uncle Sikkim that our family would suffer a great loss of dignatas should we lose our emissary status. At the same time you must convince him that you are wholly his creature, willing to do and say whatever he wants. Remember, he loves money above everything. Let him know that you will share everything you get.”
“You want me to play him! Mom!” Rais said. “You’re a shark!”
“He’s a pompous gasbag,” Juny said. “He could never control Kaikobad. You saw yourself the contempt Kaikobad had for him. It will be very tempting for him to replace Kaikobad with yourself, a callow boy whom he can rule.”
“Will he trust me?” Rais asked. “Will he trust you?”
“I will throw myself into your career. I will make it known that I am only interested in making you a grand success in the emissary world,” Juny said. “They will think that having abandoned hope in your father’s career, I am now focusing my effort on yours. You will lead Sikkim to believe that I have been training you to become an emissary ever since that day. I have a reputation for ruthlessness in our family. Hopefully he will dismiss my interest in djinn as vulgar ambition.”
“Ammi-jaan, you are quite terrifying.”
“Then remember never to cross me.”
CHAPTER 14
The New Man in Town
It took several months for Rais to worm his way into GU Sikkim’s trust. The old man was wilier than he had expected, and on the subject of djinn, he seemed almost paranoid. At first, he would not even acknowledge the existence of djinn, even though it was now known that Kaikobad’s own wife had been one. All manner of arguments failed. Rais was repeatedly told to drop this bullshit and join the real world. Even his father went so far as to forbid him any further discussion on this topic.
Rais, however, did not give up. He had a claim on the emissary post, however tenuous, and it was just enough to acknowledge a response from the secret world. He had his mother in his corner, and her active assistance was more than enough to combat any early disappointments. He kept chipping away at GU Sikkim, showing him the fruits of his research. Juny had opened lines of communication with other emissaries, friends of Kaikobad’s, who were willing to speak to Rais. There were promises of help, introductions, even vague recommendations. Bit by bit, Rais pieced together the mosaic of Kaikobad’s hidden life and his current status in djinndom.
Kaikobad was not dead. Yet he was not fulfilling his emissary role, on account of being in a coma. This was exactly the kind of legal kerfuffle that the djinn adored. All manner of solutions were being expounded from interested parties. One extreme group was even advocating that Kaikobad’s body should be possessed by a minor spirit and brought back to animation to fulfill his role, until such time as his mind regained liveliness.
Rais’s letters started doing the rounds. Juny had finally decided that the best course for them was a moderate one. To push for full emissary rights at this juncture would undoubtedly be rebuffed. Their carefully worded suggestion was that while Kaikobad was temporarily incapacitated, his duties could be taken up by his nephew, whom he had trained somewhat (a gross exaggeration) and who was very respectfully desirous of following his esteemed uncle’s footsteps. The laws of primogeniture being subverted due to the mysterious loss of Kaikobad’s son, Rais was, in fact, the closest living relative of the emissary. It was further argued (in subtle hints) that as Indelbed was himself half djinn, he could not be an emissary, and therefore this post was de facto Rais’s in any case.
Rais’s proposal had numerous merits. First, it was a temporary appointment, which allowed the continuance of the delicious legal drama occasioned by Kaikobad and his son. To the various djinn factions lovingly wrangling over this issue, it was imperative that no permanent solution be hastily enforced. A good legal battle was hard to find these days, after all, and this one had all the promise of lasting several hundred years.
Second, Rais being part of an emissary family, there was some precedence in the Lore for his stepping into his uncle’s shoes. It also fulfilled the inherent djinn bias toward preserving bloodlines and ancient privileges. The long-lived race had a horror for all things transient and greatly valued keeping emissary families intact, so that they would not have to bother to learn the names and faces of yet another set of wretched humans.
Third, some parties were arguing that Kaikobad’s dignatas, now dormant, could in part be “borrowed” by his nephew. This was a novel situation, and more than one djinn was taking credit for the idea. Hardly a day went by without some codicils to the law being proposed, new precedence being set, and heavy lobbying done behind the scenes to get ownership of any particular amendment. There was, of course, massive dignatas to be gained in adding an amendment to the law or, even more ambitious, contributing to the Lore itself.
Slowly, other emissaries started replying to Rais’s queries. Djinns loved letters, and as Rais took care to flood the mail with fat sheets of creamy linen paper, djinns began to take note of him. His proposal was openly discussed in certain lower courts, his name dropped in salons and bars where djinn gathered.
The clincher came when he finally received a letter from the djinn Barabas himself, who had lately been Kaikobad’s direct patron. This august personage invited Rais to meet for a discussion on various issues relating to the affairs of Kaikobad and possibilities therein. This was so close to a direct espousal of his cause that Rais howled in jubilation when he spied the cipher and seal.
At last, the world he yearned for was opening up. It was hard proof that the djinn really existed, that he and Juny had not been so far the victims of some cruel hoax perpetrated by unknown persons. It was direct confirmation that the hours they had spent had not been in vain. The seal of Barabas was a glyph made of blue fire that burned ceaselessly on the parchment and left the receiver in no doubt as to the authenticity of the communication. It also made the letter hard to read, and Rais had some difficulties, which included singed eyebrows and a badly damaged finger. Barabas apparently was of the mind that his words were sufficiently valuable to risk severe facial damage on the part of his correspondent.
The letter made a great impression on GU Sikkim. He knew at once its provenance, for he had seen before some communications between Kaikobad and his patron. He could no longer deny the progress Rais was making. It filled him with dread. He called for Matteras incessantly, fearing the response of the djinn who had so forcefully commanded him to scotch the entire Kaikobad affair. Matteras, however, had gone up in life since those days. It was beneath him to meet directly with humans, and this was a link he could not afford to expose. The end result was a tersely worded note to GU Sikkim, instructing him to “shut the brat up and make sure he stops meddling.” At the same time Matteras threatened him with dire repercussions, including loss of property and life, should Barabas and his ilk get wind of any irregularities regarding Kaikobad and his dead son.
GU Sikkim, foreseeing the end of the Khan Rahman clan, at last acquiesced to Rais’s new profession, provided he kept him appraised of everything and did precisely as he was instructed. It was made explicitly clear that henceforth, Rais would report directly to him.
It ended, or began, depending on perspective, with a grand party, as most such things did in the Khan Rahman clan. Birthdays, weddings, commemorations, religious festivals, promotions, funerals, and even divorces in the family were inevitably greeted with copious feasting and the consumption of staggering amounts of bootleg alcohol.
The party for Rais was a combined graduation cum first job celebration. It was held in Dhanmondi, in the lakeside house of Rais’s aunt, the Ambassador’s half sister. This lady, Aunty Amina, was a childless widow who had by dint of the complicated rules of inheritance come by a third of an acre of land in the middle of a most heavily populated and expensive residential area. The house was a small one-story building with a vast garden in the back. Garden was a misnomer, for it more closely resembled a wilderness.
It was the Khan Rahman custom to descend upon Amina’s house for particularly big parties, all the luminaries of the same mind that if this prime piece of land had to be wasted on the nutcase Amina, the least she could do was host everyone. The Khan Rahmans in general were fond of overeating and dressing up. When they began to pile out of their cars in their rather opulent finery, passersby quite reasonably assumed it was a wedding. Rais, identified as the groom, was mobbed by the street people for money and only allowed to leave when a friendly traffic cop beat them back for a suitable bribe.
When Rais finally got inside, he was whisked away by the upper echelon of the clan into a private sitting room where Amina kept her late husband’s personal effects. These included dozens of books on Marxism, a black-and-white TV, an arcane-looking radio, a gold-tipped cane, some different kinds of hats, and a peculiar stuffed ferret. Everything was coated with a thick layer of dust, as Amina felt no need to clean this mausoleum.
“We had to make a cover identity for you, my boy,” GU Sikkim said with no preamble. “Same as we did for Kaikobad, of course, before he went a bit funny.”
“Nothing glamorous, I’m afraid,” the Ambassador said. There was a slight wistfulness in his voice. He had despaired of ever getting any useful work out of his son, and this new career, despite filling him with dread, was at least something tangible. “You’re going to join an import-export business in Dubai. It will explain why you might be gone for periods of time and also your irregular workdays.”
“And no one cares about import-export,” GU Sikkim said. “It’s so boring that no one will ever think twice after asking you what you do.”
“This is real now, son,” the Ambassador said. “Once it begins, you cannot turn back. You must be very careful. You will face strange and wonderful things, and perhaps terrible danger. What happened to your uncle and cousin should be warning enough for you. Tomorrow is the day you meet Barabas. Remember that you represent the entire family, the entirety of Bengal, even. The djinn will think nothing of annihilating us if you offend them.”
“Even worse, they can ruin us all financially!” GU Sikkim could not help interjecting. “They own a lot of banking resources. Some of them are very money minded, dignatas be damned. You can gain great riches for us if you play things correctly. Kaikobad never understood this, and look what happened to him. Remember that your first duty is to bring glory and wealth to the family.”
“Glory and wealth!” Everyone in the room spontaneously raised his glass to this toast, momentarily dazzled by future prospects. Then each gave Rais a present: a Calatrava watch from his father, which had belonged to his grandfather; a gold chain and jeweled ayatul kursi from his younger uncle, the Koranic verse written on a topaz instead of the typical gold coin; a gilded Koran from his father’s cousin, who was a pious man engaged in the manpower trade to Libya; a beautiful Italian suit from his maternal uncle, who was an aged retired general and still remembered the times when all the officers were gentlemen and would have drinks at six at the cantonment bar. Uncle Pappo gave him a nice little painting from Kalidas, easily worth several thousand dollars. GU Sikkim, his mentor and confidant, came with a solid offering: the keys to the flat in Mirpur.
“You will need privacy now, boy,” GU said fondly. “Can’t have djinns traipsing around your father’s house at odd times. It’s not much, and the area is not what you’re used to… I don’t suggest you live there. I doubt a namby-pamby like you could ever survive outside Gulshan. Still, keep it for meetings and such, whenever you need to work. There is anonymity in Mirpur. No one will notice you there. The old caretaker is a loyal man. He will be your personal servant.”
Rais, instilled with Juny’s lively suspicions, thought that it was a very useful way for Sikkim to spy on his every move.
“Remember, son, everyone here has sworn to help you in any way possible,” the Ambassador said in closing. “Always consult with us, so we may guide you.”
The association of the djinn then all solemnly swore to keep everything secret and to aid Rais in whatever capacity they could. In return he salaamed each of them by touching their feet in ritual obeisance and further swore to uphold the honor of the family by placing his hand on his new gilded Koran. Rais had carefully worded his promise. The honor of the family also demanded an explanation of how a helpless little boy had disappeared from their midst so many years ago.
