If someone had asked Ruban for a physical demonstration of the idiom ‘foaming at the mouth’, he’d have shown them this footage of Viman Rai fulminating in front of the massive video wall in his newsroom. Adding to the effect, pictures and video clips from the devastated fairgrounds played on a loop on the screen behind him.
After a few minutes of watching Viman Rai castigate the Defence Ministry, the IAW, and the Chief Hunter for failing to ‘bring the Aeriel prince to justice’, Ruban pushed the phone away. All that ranting was making his headache worse.
“What does he expect them to do?” Simani asked, aghast. “Mount Ashwin’s decapitated head on a pike and parade it around the city? I don’t understand how he’s allowed to talk like this on national TV. He’s all but inciting a riot, with millions watching him, both within Vandram and beyond.”
“Freedom of speech, my dear.” Vikram smiled grimly. “You can’t just have it when you like what they’re saying.”
“Yes, but this rhetoric is highly irresponsible—”
“And it doesn’t matter, not in the slightest.” Ruban bit out. “You think anyone’s interested in ethical arguments anymore? This country’s been a powder keg since the declaration of the alliance. The incident at the fair was simply a flashpoint – and it’s unleashed all the hostility and violence that’d been simmering for months under the surface.”
“The fact that you survived, Sim...” Vikram began, holding Simani’s gaze. “It’s the only reason we don’t have a full-blown civil war on our hands.”
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Simani rubbed her face, careful not to pull on the IV line attached to her hand. “Well, what about the CCTV cameras at the fair? There must have been some, right? If any of them captured the final moments of the fight—”
“I asked Hema and Faiz to look into that a couple of days ago.” Even to his own ears, Ruban sounded exhausted. “Your…accident…” he shook his head. “It just happened to have taken place in one of the few spots on the fairgrounds with no CCTV coverage.”
Vikram chuckled darkly. “And I’d wager my firstborn that that wasn’t a coincidence.”
Heedless of the IV lines, Simani reached out and thwacked him on the head. “Don’t even joke.” She turned to Ruban. “He’s right, though. That does seem…unlikely. Far too convenient, considering everything else that happened. Is it possible that our team was deliberately led to that spot?”
“It’d have to be someone who already knew the lay of the land,” Vikram pointed out.
Simani huffed. “That doesn’t narrow things down at all. The fair was in the Central district. All the Hunters from the Central Ragah Division would’ve been familiar with it. It’s within their jurisdiction. And obviously many of the fair-goers would’ve been locals. I was just reading that the family that went missing lived in an apartment complex less than two kilometers away.”
“Well, at least we can be sure that Ashwin couldn’t have known where all the CCTV cameras were, in a random Central Ragah neighborhood.” Vikram sighed. “Not that that’d prove much of anything in court—”
“We’ll get the DNA results tomorrow,” Ruban interrupted, rising to his feet. “Without that, we could spend the whole day going around in circles, but it won’t do any good. We have no proof of Ashwin’s innocence, nor any leads on the actual culprit.” With a weary sigh, he leaned forward to take Simani’s hand. “Get some rest, okay? I’ll come see you again tomorrow.”
“And hopefully bring some good news, for a change.” Simani smiled wanly, squeezing Ruban’s hand with her own.