Vikram’s bespectacled eyes twinkled. “As a matter of fact, I do. But I’m not a hundred percent sure about it, yet. I’ve forwarded the details to Simani. She should have more information for us, soon enough.”

“What details?” Ruban and Shwaan asked in unison.

Vikram reached into one of the pockets of his dark green trousers, extracting a phone wrapped in a handkerchief. “This belongs to one of the HAVA…activists,” he said the word like it stuck in his throat. “Who attacked us at the rally.”

Shwaan frowned. “The man with the Glitter Grenades ringtone? What was that about? Why did you want to take his phone?”

Ruban’s eye twitched. “Do I want to know why you know about the Glitter Grenades?”

“Because their phenomenal music is rivaled only by their spectacular costumes.” Hiya informed him with a haughty little sniff. “And because the lead guitarist is dating Krish from Arclight.”

Shwaan nodded somberly along to this explanation. “That’s right. But rumors say he might like the vocalist more. Only time will tell how much truth there is to that.” He glanced at Hiya, who sighed despairingly, presumably on behalf of the unsuspecting guitarist. “But returning to the matter at hand,” Shwaan continued. “What did you find on the phone? How is it related to the reinforced sifblade Viman smuggled into Vaan?”

“Well, I’m not sure it is related,” Vikram admitted. “But the woman who was calling him was Dhriti Pathak’s personal secretary.”

Shwaan leaned forward slightly. “That woman on the caller ID? You know her?”

“She’s called Riya. Can’t say I know her, but I’ve seen her around a couple of times, exchanged pleasantries. That kind of thing. She’s been with Dhriti since before she was appointed the senior secretary of defence.” Vikram paused, reaching for a cookie. “It’s odd, don’t you think? For Dhriti Pathak’s secretary to be calling a HAVA cultist? In the middle of an unsanctioned protest over Viman Rai’s death, which almost escalated into a riot.”

“Is the phone locked?” Ruban asked, eyeing the device warily.

“Yes, naturally.” Vikram said. “But I’ve forwarded all the details to Simani. So she should be able to access it remotely, unless it’s protected by some advanced tech or military-grade encryption.”

Half an hour later, Simani burst in through the front door. She clutched a tablet in her hand, head dipped low and fingers dancing across the luminous screen.

“This is getting worse by the minute,” she huffed, dropping bonelessly into a chair beside her husband. “They’re saying Aeriels are controlling and brainwashing our children.” She passed the tablet to Vikram, who scanned the screen swiftly. “That Vaan is scheming to regain control of the earth by manipulating the next generation.”

Ruban stared at her, mouth agape. “What?”

Shwaan handed her a steaming cup, along with two cookies on a saucer.

Sri stole one of the cookies and split it in half, offering one piece to Hiya.

Simani swatted him lightly on the back of the head, before Shwaan replaced the stolen cookie.

The cookie-wars thus settled; they refocused on the issue at hand.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

“Our recent encounter with HAVA is all over the news.” Vikram’s expression was pinched as he scrolled through the tablet. “I suppose we should’ve seen it coming. Ashwin’s altercation with the protestors – and especially Hiya lighting those Aeriel feathers to summon him – it’s being held up as proof of Aeriel interference with human children.”

“Well, what was he supposed to do?” Ruban’s voice was a low growl. “Let those bloodthirsty maniacs lynch a couple of kids for the sin of being tangentially related to me?”

The pain in Ruban’s voice was obvious. It hung heavy in the air.

They all knew that over the past week, Hiya had faced some bullying at school. Due primarily to her association with Ruban – who was being publicly blamed for the death of Viman Rai, a national hero.

She hadn’t breathed a word about it to anyone. But Sri, unable to stomach it any longer, had confided in his parents. Much to Hiya’s displeasure.

Sri had defended her fervently at school. But he was, after all, a twelve-year-old boy. There was only so much he could do.

The next day, Vikram paid a visit to the principal. Largely because both Ruban and Simani had been raring for a fight. And that wouldn’t have improved the situation.

The school authorities assured Vikram that they would keep a close eye on the children in Hiya’s class, to make sure such things couldn’t happen again.

They hadn’t known, back then, that the real threat would come a few days later. From grown men and women who rationalized their aggression with patriotism.

“We’ll deal with it when the time comes,” Shwaan said, his face impassive. “No point wasting time on rumors, at the moment. Were you able to access the phone?”

Simani grimaced. “Yeah, I was. Though I quickly regretted it.” Her hand drifted up to awkwardly scratch the back of her head. “It was…spicier than I’d imagined.”

The three men stared at her blankly. Eventually, Vikram ushered the kids out and closed the kitchen door. “What are you talking about?” he asked.

“Well, apparently, Dhriti Pathak’s secretary is in a relationship with your cultist.” Simani took a sip of her tea. “From their chat, it seems like this has been going on for at least half a year.”

“Does she know about his…extracurricular activities with HAVA?” Ruban asked.

“Oh, she’s the one who pushed him to join. Or at least that’s what it seems like, from their conversations. I didn’t have much time to delve into it. Frankly, it’s tedious work,” she groaned. “Any useful information is buried under piles of raunchy innuendo. Even if I wasn’t working alone, I’d need a few days to separate the relevant details from all the inane sexual chatter. But it’s not like I could ask Faiz or Hema to help me hack an illegally-obtained device, to extract evidence in a case I’m not supposed to be working. From what I could glean, though, it’s almost certain Viman acquired that reinforced sifblade from Dhriti. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’d planned the assassination together.”

Vikram patted her soothingly on the thigh. “You’ve had a rough day, my love.”

“Welcome to the club,” Ruban grunted, fingers digging into his temple. “We haven’t had a good day since that bastard bit the dust. It’s a miracle we’re not already at war.”

Shwaan gave him a sidelong glance. “Not such a big fan of Viman Rai now, are we?”

“I never was. He’s singlehandedly brought earth and Vaan closer to the brink of war than we have been in six hundred years.” Eyes closed, Ruban continued to massage his temples. “I just think he’s the lesser of two evils, compared to HAVA.”

“That isn’t saying much,” Simani muttered, covering Vikram’s hand on her thigh with her own. “And now his relatives are baying for blood. Or whatever else it is the Aeriels have coursing through their veins.

“They’re coming out of the woodworks, unanimous in their opposition to the Vaan alliance. They want revenge, and they want it yesterday.

“It’d be bad enough if they were ordinary civilians. But apparently the last IAW Director was his mother’s older brother. Did you know that? And one of his cousins is the chief Hunter of Ibanborah’s western division.” She shook her head. “All that, combined with the already strong opposition from the Department of Defence. It’s putting a huge strain on the Cabinet and their plans for the alliance.”

“At least there’s pushback.” Vikram turned his palm upward to intertwine his fingers with Simani’s. “Many in the media are criticizing Viman for trying to assassinate the Aeriel queen. Risking retaliation from Vaan that could’ve taken thousands of human lives. Even a few months ago, nobody would’ve dared say such things openly. Speaking in favor of Vaan, even indirectly, meant risking your whole career. At least now, there’s dialogue—”

“And a fat lot of good talking’s gonna do us.” Ruban pushed himself to his feet, a hand pressing against his injured waist. “When Dhriti Pathak has us all lynched in the name of national security.”