“Organized might not be the best term. Say, enterprise, maybe. Groups of people working criminal enterprises.” Ricky dredged his memory of history class, came up empty, and started explaining it as best he could anyway. “Some people left their homes in Europe for various reasons and came to the U.S. Most didn’t leave all their culture behind, and many didn’t have legitimate opportunities in their new country for a variety of reasons. Unable to make a living legitimately, some started operating businesses outside the law, either because those businesses weren’t legal at all or because they didn’t mind ignoring certain tax requirements, that kind of thing.” He glanced at Jadu to be sure he was following.
“I certainly understand wishing to avoid taxation,” Jadu said, smiling.
“Well, one such group to come to America was the Italians. Within that national group were the Sicilians, and they formed one of the longest-lasting, most successful criminal enterprises in the history of America. So successful, in fact, that there were a lot of shows on TV and film about them. That’s what we were referring to: the popular fiction versions of those criminal enterprises.”
“I…see…” Jadu said. Then, clearly puzzled, asked, “Were these criminal organizations not secret? Like the Thug?”
“Thug?”
“A criminal and religious organization here. Very notorious, but also very secretive as to their actual membership and methods. They are known only from camp tales.”
“But you believe they exist?”
“Well, certain cults count them as enemies, and the same god is worshipped by many others, even if their practices are wildly different and they claim the Thuggees are blasphemous…” He trailed off, and then smiled ruefully. “I suppose I just answered my own question about the Sicilians.”
“Kind of. In the States they were eventually hunted pretty hard by the feds. Ah, government.” Seventeenth-century Earth didn’t have anything like the FBI. “A lot of what we know about the way they handled business is from the investigations and trials of some of the families.”
“Ah, so it was courts that exposed them.”
“Sure. And that some turned in other members to escape prison, offering testimony to the court in exchange for freedom.”
“Oh.” Jadu shook his head, eyes distant.
“What?”
“As often as I think you up-timers are so different from us, I stumble into one of these conversations that proves that you are not. That which motivates all men in this time and place holds true throughout the ages and places where the wheel of Heaven intersects with the blood and sinew of men.”
The friends digested Jadu’s wisdom for a little while, finishing up their meal in thoughtful silence.
Bobby broke that silence: “Huh.”
“What?” Ricky asked.
“Just that bit about turning state’s evidence on a family member…”
“Go on.”
“How many kids has Asaf got, Jadu?”
“He has two sons, why?”
“I was just thinking that just because Jadu’s informants saw Asaf Khan’s men doesn’t mean they are about Asaf Khan’s business.”
Jadu sat up in his cushions. “Say on.”
“I mean, what if…with the fight between Dara and his brothers, there’s some kind of parallel revolt going on? Some of his men supporting one side or another and rebelling against Pops?”
Jadu’s eyes widened. “That might explain why they chose not to even try to prevail on the imperial officer for mounts. And why their attempts at secrecy are…uneven.”
“Do you think Asaf’s dead, then? That this is his subordinates fighting for their place?” Ricky asked.
“Dead?” Jadu thought for a moment, then said, “No, I can’t imagine he’s dead. It would be too hard to conceal…Ill, though?” He snapped his fingers. “Yes, that could very well be it.”
“So, what does this mean for us?”
A waggle of Jadu’s head. “That we have a lot of work ahead of us to confirm your very good supposition, and that we must be doubly careful about it.”
“Well, since we’ve got about all the dope we’re going to at a good price, we can focus on this…”
Jadu sniffed.
“What?” Ricky asked, half-smiling.
“Well, I have other trade to transact, and I’m not sure how you two can gather information. You don’t exactly look like locals.”
“We got eyes to look,” Bobby said, a little defensive. Understandably so, Ricky felt. Aside from the night of the attack, they hadn’t done much but learn a smattering of languages, do even less actual trade, be sick, and provide passable dining companions for the merchant. All this despite the fact the Mission had provided the impetus for the caravan in the first place.
“Yes, yes you do”—Jadu smiled—“and you can be seen, too.”
“Sorry?” Ricky began, indignant.
“Just thinking of ways we could use your presence to attract rumors to our ears. I mean, I could just continue my quiet trade. It is widely known among those that matter that the Mission is supporting Dara. Your presence here, should it become widely known, might bring people to ask precisely what it is you are doing here. Such questioners can be learned from. Indeed, much can be learned simply from the questions they ask.”
“Do we want that kind of attention? I mean, we haven’t been exactly low-profile, so I imagine that anyone who wanted to know about your caravan could easily find out about the two ferenghi with you.”
“Precisely. But, in and of myself”—he waggled his head—“I am of, at most, moderate interest to any trader, and of even less importance to the powerful umara and zamindars of the region. Unless we inform certain parties I know that you are here, and then see who comes calling…”
“All right, but what if they’ve declared for Shuja or Aurangzeb? They could just decide to kill a couple of Dara’s supporters and show their loyalty to Shuja or Aurangzeb or whoever they think will appreciate the killing.”
“It is a risk, I admit.” Jadu shook his head, looking thoughtful. “I will see what I can learn with another foray into town tomorrow, but I think we should consider my idea. I think it has merit, and may work more quickly than waiting for some rumor to find us.”
Chapter 18
Agra
Taj Mahal
The stone and marble
