intervening window. Terrified, Taneer could only gape back at his pursuer and shake his head forcefully.
A reaching hand grabbed the exterior handle and tugged experimentally. Chal was not surprised to find the door locked. He started to reach inside his shirt pocket for the little pistol that fired the tiny shells that made very large holes in things, but hesitated. Already, some people were stopping what they were doing to stare at the odd sight of a man running alongside a moving cab. Krishna damn all interfering witnesses, he thought as he dug into a pants' pocket and withdrew his scanner. Keeping pace with the slowly moving taxi, he spoke sharply into the device.
As soon as he saw his pursuer take out the pocket scanner, Taneer activated several programs built into his command bracelet. So he was ready when the scanner found the taxi's code for its door locks and a soft buzz indicated that they were being deactivated. Before the tall man could grab the door handle, the scientist hit a control that instantly reprogrammed the coding. An electronic click sounded, indicating that the doors had relocked themselves.
Frowning, Chal worked the scanner again. For a second time, it insisted that it had solved the small matter of the taxi's internal security and had deactivated the relevant segment of the vehicle's programming. Yet when he tried the door again, he found it still locked tight. Peering in, he could see that his frightened quarry had retreated to the far side of the single bench seat and was working with a bracelet communicator. The tracker addressed his scanner a third time.
In this fashion they advanced up the street, one man seated inside the cab with the other running alongside, the two of them dueling with wireless electronics and embedded, adaptive programs much as their predecessors in another age might have sparred on horseback with swords or pistols. Responsive and insufficiently intelligent to be confused, the taxi's doors unlocked and relocked, opened and resecured themselves. Each time, Taneer's electronic riposte was just a step enough ahead of his pursuer's reprogramming to relock the doors before Chal could wrench one open.
'Ah,' announced the taxi's voice, unconcerned with and uninvolved in the intense struggle that was taking place between passenger and pedestrian, 'we have a break in traffic. Please relax, sir, and I will have you at your destination as soon as is legally possible.'
When the cab accelerated beyond his ability to keep pace with it, a winded Chal put away his unexpectedly ineffective scanner and pulled his gun. Witnesses or no witnesses, he was not about to let his quarry escape a third time. He would fire to disable the taxi and invent some excuse to satisfy the anticipated horde of curious onlookers the attack would draw. But he had waited too long. Fast as he was, by the time he had the weapon out and aimed, a dozen pedestrians, a trio of rickshaws, and one cow had filled in the space between him and the rapidly retreating cab. The pedestrians he could avoid, the rickshaws he could pay compensation for, but if he killed the cow, the mass of devoted Hindus who comprised the majority of the crowd were likely to set on him and beat him to a bloody pulp. It was with great reluctance that he put the gun away.
Furious and frustrated, it was all he could do to keep from screaming his disappointment as the taxi carrying his long-sought-after quarry disappeared into the night, swallowed up by the swarming multitude of men, women, children, cattle, dogs, and assorted exotics.
Taneer kept looking out the side windows and twisting around to stare out the back until he was absolutely certain there was no sign of his pursuer. Even so, he did not relax until the taxi spoke to him in a concerned, if wholly synthetic, voice.
'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.'
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
