Kade shook his head, a chuckle coming out of him unbidden, and turned back to the window, to the ever receding blue of the Indian Ocean below, the vast stretch of water they still had to cross to reach the Indian mainland.

It’ll work, he sent to Feng. Probably.

Feng shrugged, good humor radiating from his mind.

“Hey, why no in-flight entertainment system?” the Chinese soldier asked loudly, kicking the seat in front of him. “What kind of lousy plane is this?”

Kade shook his head, cheered despite himself, and closed his eyes to sleep.

“Mr Lane,” the man said, smiling coldly, his hand extended to shake Kade’s. “My name is Rakesh Aggarwal. I’m with the Ministry of External Affairs.”

Kade rose slowly from behind the table as Aggarwal entered the room, his ribs aching in pain as he did. He gestured with his bandaged right hand apologetically, then extended his left hand to meet Aggarwal’s. The man took Kade’s one good hand smoothly in his right. Aggarwal’s hair was grey, close cropped. He wore an American-style business suit over a trim frame.

Nexus nodes recorded everything for posterity. A memory-augmenting app Kade had loaded with the files he’d downloaded from the net on Shiva’s jet tagged the man before him.

[Rakesh Aggarwal]

[Special Secretary, Ministry for External Affairs]

Special Secretary, Kade thought. A fix-it guy. A cleaner. That could be good. Or very bad.

The door closed behind Aggarwal, leaving Kade alone with him here, armed guards on the other side, another series of Faraday cages cutting him off from the outside world, Feng and Sam off in their own interview rooms, the children under the temporary care of Thai-speaking social workers.

Kade cut to the chase. “Mr Aggarwal, I’d like to formally request asylum here in India, for myself, my companions, and the children we brought with us.”

Aggarwal froze for a moment, then lowered himself into the chair across the table, motioning Kade to the do the same.

Kade lowered himself back into his own chair, even more slowly than he’d risen, wincing as his ribs flared in pain again.

“Mr Lane,” Aggarwal started. “You should be aware that India has a mutual extradition agreement with the United States, where, we understand, you are wanted by your government for acts of terrorism.”

Kade nodded, smiling to hide his fatigue. “Yes. That’s why I’m formally requesting asylum.”

Aggarwal pursed his lips. “Mr Lane, it is certainly theoretically possible for India to grant political, religious, or humanitarian asylum which may pre-empt extradition or other agreements. However, to do so, you’d need to make a case that your home government was… persecuting you on grounds which we in India find invalid. What case would you make to us?”