"Pardon me, sir, but in compliance with metropolitan taxi code regulations two hundred seventy through two hundred eighty-four, I am required as part of service and safety rules to monitor the health of my passengers at all times. In respect of that, I note that your respiration is significantly elevated above the initial readings taken when you first entered and engaged my services, and that your heart rate has repeatedly surged above levels deemed safe by the Municipal Health Authority of the city of Sagramanda for one of your approximate age and build. Do you wish me to detour to the nearest hospital?"
Reminding himself that he was dealing with programming and not with a human driver, Taneer composed an appropriate response while making an effort to slow both his heart and his breathing. "I'll be fine. Proceed to the designated destination, please. You may continue to monitor my vital signs." At a thought, he added, "Should I at any time fail to respond adequately to your inquiries, feel free to abort the requested destination and take me to a hospital."
There, he thought. If his relentless pursuer somehow managed to get in front of the taxi and shoot or otherwise injure him while he was still in the cab, the vehicle was now programmed to take him to a hospital and into the presence of witnesses, regardless of what the tracker did. It was a sensible and hopefully unnecessary precaution.
Pulling the bottom of his shirt out of his waistband, he used the hem to mop up the sweat that was still pouring off his face despite the taxi's efforts to cool the interior of the cab. His hairbreadth escape into the taxi meant he had managed two near-misses tonight. That was two too many, he knew. Having lost his quarry twice, Taneer doubted his pursuer would allow him to get away a third time. Therefore, there must be no third time.
Some things would have to change. Though he had taken pains to repeatedly emphasize to Sanjay Ghosh the need to move forward in negotiations with all possible speed, he was going to have to insist on it now. Available time and space was contracting rapidly around him. Contrary to current physical theory, his universe was showing distinct signs of collapsing. Ghosh was going to have to make a deal with a buyer, and fast-even if it meant cutting the price Taneer was asking. Better to have half the money and be alive to enjoy it than hold out for the full amount and end up dead as well as broke.
Could the uncomplicated ex-farmer pull it off? Taneer had to admit the shopkeeper had done well so far. He was just going to have to do well a little faster. As the cab sped onward into the night and toward safety, it struck the scientist that despite their disparity in education and accomplishment, both men were about the same age and wanted the same things. Having from the first sought only straightforward, unemotional help in pursuing his dealings, Taneer recognized with a start how much he had come to depend on the shopkeeper. Everything was now riding on the other man's skills as a negotiator and a businessman. The money, his future, that of him and Depahli together; everything. And not only that.
Perhaps also his life, Taneer felt as he recalled the last intense glare of the grim tracker as the man had begun to fall behind the accelerating taxi.
*12*
Sanjay was wrapping the rug when the call on his secure number came through. He was reluctant to take it. An early rule he had learned in this business was that when a customer agreed to a purchase it was prudent to conclude it as quickly as possible lest at the last minute they change their mind and ask for their money back. Even when a price had been agreed upon and a credcard debited, ever-fickle tourists had been known to insist on canceling the purchase. Someone decided they didn't like the color, or the item was too big, or they had gone overbudget on their vacation. This had happened to Sanjay several times before he caught on.
So he rolled and wrapped the rug with its gold and silver thread, hand-applied beadwork, and sewn-in bits of mirror as expeditiously as possible lest the bored Taiwanese parents and their giggling teenagers decide to move on without taking it. They were very happy with the price they had bargained him down to. Fashioned from a patchwork of elaborate, elegant wedding blouses all sewn together on a heavy backing, the decorative rug was an expensive item to begin with. No doubt his customers felt the obsequious shopkeeper badly needed to make the sale or he would not have come down so far on the price. They were confident in this because they had compared their acquisition with the cost of similar rugs for sale all up and down the street.
They were right about the price of the item, on which they were indeed getting an excellent deal. What they did not realize was that Sanjay would make back the difference together with a little extra by bumping up the cost of shipping and insurance. He did not feel guilty for doing this. After all, if his customers went away happy, and he was happy, then what was there to argue about?
The communicator would not shut up, and he could see that it was distracting his customers. In a burst of activity and a blur of hands he managed to finish the wrapping, double-check the total charge, and shoo his contented clientele outside onto the street before the device ceased demanding his attention. So anxious was he to take the call that he almost forgot to darken his windows and activate the exterior sign that said "Band/Closed." That way, if his visitors from the far east did change their minds, they would not be able to contact him until it was too late and the rug had already "shipped"-even if only to his back storeroom, where it would await eventual transport.
His satisfaction in completing the sale was muted when he saw that the communication was not only marked "urgent" but was triple-encrypted. Only a handful of trusted suppliers and buyers had the ability to put something that significant through to his machine. They, and one other.
"You're sure nobody can intercept this?"
"Yes sir, Mr. Mohan, sir." Inwardly, Sanjay sighed. He had been compelled to repeatedly reassure his exceptional client as to the state-of-the-art status of his shop's communications system. But no matter how many times he did so the assurance never seemed to stick. Reminding himself silently that he existed only to serve his customer, he patiently repeated himself yet again. "As I have told you previously, sir, once I have privatized my shop, no detection equipment can penetrate the electronic shielding and scrambling except those senders who possess the necessary key coding. And as everything is quantum encrypted before it is received by me, I am assured that the mere act of trying to intercept it would result in the secure communication being terminated. As before, you can speak with confidence that our conversation is completely private. Otherwise we would not be talking now." He frowned slightly. "You already know this. Is there some reason for you to perhaps be more concerned than before? Something you are not telling me, sir?"
"The last time I visited you, I was followed," Taneer told him. "Someone working on behalf of my ex-employers, I'm sure. I had more opportunities than was healthy to memorize his face. Tall guy, lean and muscular, part European or American. I just barely got away from him, and nearly got myself killed in the process."
"Oh my goodness gracious, sir! I hope you are all right." Sanjay was genuinely upset. Not so much because he particularly liked his sometimes overbearing, condescending client, but because the other man promised to make him rich; a task the gentleman who called him self Mr. Mohan would be unable to complete if he got himself dead.
"I'm okay, thanks," came the heartening reply. "But I can't come back to your place, and we can't see each other in person. At least not for a while, until I'm sure it's completely safe."
Sanjay found himself looking past his counter, through the shop, toward the darkened windows and the barely visible street beyond. "Tell me honestly, sir: do you think I am safe? Not that I care so much about myself," he lied facilely, "but I have a devoted wife and two fine children to think about."