The blue eyes were very clear, and very bright.
"Mhara," she said.
"Yes?"
"That's your name," Robin whispered. "You have a name."
Mhara said softly. "But you knew that."
"No," Robin said. "I didn't understand it, not until now. Not really. Mhara, I think I'm really sick."
"Sick?" His eyes seemed to fill the world. She began to fumble with the activation unit for the bonds that held him to the cot. "Robin? What are you doing?"
"Setting you free. Doing something good. Before I die," Robin said, and then she felt the cough beginning deep in her throat. It took hold of her and she bent over double, spluttering. She felt a gentle hand on her back, stroking and soothing, and oddly it stopped the cough.
"You're in pain, aren't you?" the experiment said, gently.
Gratefully, Robin turned to him.
"Yes, I—" and then she realized what she had done. Her head swam with panic and elation. But he wouldn't hurt me, not after I've helped him! was her first confused thought, and then: Why not? You're his torturer . She tried to get up from the bed, but her legs would not obey her.
"Please—" she started to say.
"Goodbye, Robin," Mhara whispered. His hand gripped her wrist, keeping her pinned to the bunk. He was much stronger than she would have expected, after all the testing. The frail patient in the bed was not so fragile, it seemed. Robin stared at him without understanding and tried to pull her feeble hand away. Her experiment gave her his sweet, vague smile and kissed her on the forehead, and then she felt his fingers close gently around her sore throat.
Eleven
"They've found another body," Ma said, sounding almost cheerful.
"Have they indeed?" Zhu Irzh murmured. He put down the copy of the Hell Morning News, which was delivered promptly to the station house every day, took a sip of blood tea, and gave Ma his full attention. "Who and where?"
"It isn't a woman this time, but it's in pretty much the same condition. Looks as though something tore it apart, and it's a few days old, probably about the same time of death as the first. They found it up on a mining site, dumped in a landfill crater. It was sheer luck that the foreman spotted it; they were about to fill in the hole when he noticed the foot."
"The foot?"
"They found the rest of the body nearby."
"And have they figured out who it was?" Zhu Irzh rubbed gritty eyes.
"As a matter of fact, yes, they have. It's the body of a local feng shui man, named Hsu Ko. Seems he was undertaking some dowsing on the site, to check for minerals. He's one of a number of feng shui experts on contract to the mining companies."
"Any obvious suspects?"
"No, apparently he was liked well enough, kept to himself. He was brought in to replace someone who was having problems with their license—" Ma frowned. "A man called Paravang Roche. Didn't you have a run-in with someone of that name?"
"Yes, I was the one who got his license revoked. He hadn't paid his bribes. It was a trivial affair."
"Maybe not to Roche. These people can get very jealous with one another. My cousin used to work for the Feng Shui Practitioners' Guild but he packed it in, said there was too much backstabbing. Anyway, the foreman said that Ko was the last person he'd expect to turn up murdered."
"And we're expecting the DNA results on the last body this morning, right? Perhaps there'll be a connection," Zhu Irzh murmured, though he could not bring himself to be too hopeful. Things just didn't work out like that. But to his surprise, Ma nodded.
"Yes, there is. The mining company's owned by Paugeng."
"Paugeng?" Zhu Irzh glanced up with renewed interest. "Jhai Tserai's company. Well, well. Paravang Roche worked for Paugeng before his disgrace. And Tserai was a friend of the murdered girl." He sipped his tea, lost in momentary contemplation. Jhai was starting to feature heavily in this investigation, not to mention Zhu Irzh's dreams. The previous night had been restless and disturbing, filled with images of Jhai in
1796-1874 Agnes Strickland, 1794-1875 Elizabeth Strickland, Rosalie Kaufman