Free Turbulence by Samit Basu Page B

can’t fight anyway, so that doesn’t matter.”
    “Yes. Let’s get to business, please. Where is he?”
    “Oh, he’s around. But see, here’s the thing. He just got access codes to all of China’s nuclear weapons, and if he doesn’t fill in a password once every fifteen minutes, they’re going to launch. And they’re going to land in Kashmir, on your little secret underground jail at Udhampur. And the password keeps changing every time, so even if you, say, forced it out of him, it wouldn’t help, darling. Your super-science project, whatever it is, would be destroyed, and a war would start with China. So you’re going to be nice to him, right?”
    “I don’t like being threatened,” Vir says. “And I can see you’re bluffing.”
    “Well, we don’t want to find out, do we?”
    “Nuclear protocols don’t work like that. There are lots of stages, and not all of them are online.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “This is a waste of my time,” Vir says, standing up.
    “All right, all right,” a young man says from the next table. “Sit down, Vir. I’m Aman, and this is Tia. Hello.”
    Vir sits and looks at the woman with the laptop at Aman’s table. His eyes widen as he realises it’s Tia again, only with longer hair and a less spectacular outfit.
    Aman moves across to Vir’s table and sticks out a hand. Vir shakes it briefly, his eyes not leaving Tia.
    “Are they —” he begins.
    “No, we’re the same person,” says the Tia-at-Vir’s-table. The other Tia rises, waves sweetly at Vir, and leaves with the computer. Vir’s eyes follow her as she crosses the road and gets into a small red car.
    “I’m over here,” Tia says. “So, Aman, Vir wanted to get straight to business.”
    “It’s only a matter of time before Mukesh comes back with help, so there’s no time for fun and games,” Vir says. “You both have powers that could be very important. But we think you also have a disease that makes your bodies unstable — we were all infected on the plane and you’re in danger. You need to come with me right now.”
    “Crap,” Aman says.
    “I think what Aman means is that we’re concerned about our fellow passengers disappearing and then re-appearing dead,” Tia says. “We know about your Kashmir facility — we’ve even got some blurry photos of your roof — and we definitely don’t want to go anywhere near it.”
    “You know as well as I do that something’s gone wrong, and people have been lying to you,” Aman says. “So don’t give us your official line.”
    “You really don’t get to tell me how to conduct myself,” Vir says. “In fact, I don’t see any reason not to take both of you to Kashmir right now and talk to you under conditions more suited to me. And to my superior officers.”
    “The same superior officer who sent you to die? Squadron Leader Jai Mathur? The same Jai Snake-Eyes back there was talking about?” Aman says.
    “You’re beginning to make me angry.”
    Vir and Aman stare hard at each other, and Tia giggles.
    “Boys,” she says. “Calm down.”
    “Order?” asks a waiter, materialising out of nowhere with a menu.
    Tia orders three coffees and then, when the waiter is gone, turns back to the men with a winning smile.
    “We’re here because we’re scared, Vir,” Tia says. “People are dying like flies. That couple in Bangalore, all those foreigners who left the country. And so many others are missing. Can you blame us for lying low?”
    “No,” Vir admits. “I haven’t really been following the news. I’ve been flying around like a maniac since all of this started.”
    “Let’s talk about your Kashmir base,” Aman says. “How many of us are you holding there?”
    “We’re not holding anyone against their will as far as I know,” Vir replies. “I haven’t been there too many times. I’vemostly been tracking down rogue powered people who were cleared by the tests but then found their powers and started committing crimes. You have no