The Brave New World - 156 Bandits and Thieves

It was a funny thing, but Old World problems always felt unimportant in the New World. They seemed unreal. Yes, he had to talk to Rani right here, in the house, in Mumbai. She’d gone to the market like she did every day, and she’d taken Amrita with her. She was always back by late afternoon; Samir was determined to wait for her return.

He forced himself to walk around the house and slapped his face and even smoked another cigarette. But it had made him even more sleepy instead of perking him up. So he made himself a pot of very strong tea and drank it with lots of sugar, feeling guilty. Both tea and sugar were in short supply.

When he spotted Rani and Amrita coming down the lane to the house, he very nearly ran out to meet them halfway. But he stopped himself when he saw that they were bringing back nearly half the goods they’d taken to sell – something had gone seriously wrong.

“It’s all changed,” Rani told him a few minutes later, after they’d put everything back in the storeroom and she sat down with a mug of tea. “They’ve put barriers all around the market, and there are policemen keeping watch. Everyone comes and goes through a single entrance that’s guarded by soldiers who ask for documents. All traders must show a license to get in.”

“You didn’t get in?”

Rani shook her head.

“We went all the way to the market in Khopate, but it was exactly the same,” she said. “No license, no entry. So I just sold what I could along the way.”

“I can’t believe this!” exclaimed Samir. “You couldn’t find enough buyers to sell everything?”

“Exactly,” Rani said. “I couldn’t find buyers. No one had any money to pay with. You told me to only accept payment in the new currency. Look at this.”

And she put a small handful of coins on the table, saying:

“One rupee and fifty-one paise.”

Samir was so shocked he didn’t know what to say. He prodded the coins with his finger, noting that they were pretty crude.

“Did you get everything done at the colonial office?” asked Rani.

“What? Yes, yes. I got all the papers, you’ll be able to show your license at the market tomorrow. Wait a moment. You’ll have to show it every time you go there?”

“No, just once. They issue special tokens to licensed traders. Of course you have to pay for them.”

“How much?”

“One new rupee.”

“The thieves,” Samir said through clenched teeth. “The bandits. Bandits and thieves!”

“I can’t believe this,” Samir said. He prodded the coins again, scattering them on the table. “They were supposed to start paying people guaranteed income today! And no one had any money?”

“They pay them with promissory notes.”

“Promissory notes!?”

“Yes. They get slips of papers with a declaration that the world government promises to pay the bearer ten rupees exactly a year from now. They are stamped and signed and what people are doing is they go to their local store, and deposit them there on account.”

“On account? What are you talking about? Ten rupees is nothing!”

“It’s a lot of money now,” Rani said gently. “One of those new rupees is worth a hundred old ones. That’s why they’ve brought back the paisa. They’re even making half-paisa coins, look.”

She pointed at the coins scattered on the table.

“It may not look much, but it’s a lot of money,” she said. “Especially because the shopkeepers charge double when someone’s paying with those paper slips.”

Samir’s mind went blank. His mental fuse blew because of information overload. He looked at the coins scattered on the table and at Rani and at the coins again.

“I must have a cigarette,” he said, and pulled out the small pack of Players.

“You’ve started smoking!?”

“Just today. Rani, I had an exhausting day. Constant tension, one problem after another. I went through hell.”

And he told her about crowd at the colonial office, the visit to the town hall, and the workers’ blackmail.

“What’s worst of all,” he said, “They’ve been going around and telling people we’re rich. But sergeant Varma will be here to protect us.”

“Varma will be living with us?”

“It’s not that bad. He won’t be sleeping in the house.” And Samir explained that the sergeant and his men would have separate accommodation.

“Varma has access to military supplies,” he concluded. “So they’ll be bringing a week’s worth of rations and tools and some construction materials. They’ll be building a barracks.”

“I hope the workers will install good locks in our new doors,” Rani said sourly. “What are you going to do now?”

“I need to get some sleep. And I need to visit Kulaba to check on things.”

“That’s a very good idea,” Rani told him. “Madan has been getting above himself lately. He’s taken to ordering everyone around as if he was the one running the colony.”

There was a short, uncomfortable silence.

“I think I’d better go now,” Samir said finally. Rani didn’t speak. He went to the storeroom and closed the door and lay down on the silvery mat –

– he was walking a few steps behind Neil, and his legs hurt – they’d been walking for a long time. New information streamed into his mind as he reconnected with his New World self: they’d set out of Kulaba to examine the campsite Neil had found earlier. They had found it, spent the night there, and decided to explore further the next day.

They had climbed a small rise just after midday, and spotted smoke far, far away. Samir had decided that they had to investigate, and a couple of hours later they came across two corpses of little children. They had died of hunger and dehydration.

Neil was very shaken by this discovery, and wanted to turn back. But Samir decided they would continue at least until the end of the day. He looked at the sun: it was no later than three in the afternoon. They were walking over fairly flat ground overgrown with sparse, waist-high grass. Scattered shrubs and trees, a couple of birds circling lazily high up in the sky, and total silence.

Samir couldn’t see the smoke any more; it had disappeared. He looked left, he looked right, and had an idea.

“Neil,” he said.

Neil stopped, and turned round. Samir pointed at big tree growing around fifty paces away to the right.

“Think you can climb that tree?” he asked. The lowest bough was at least three meters off the ground.

“If you let me stand on your shoulders, yes,” said Neil.

It wasn’t pleasant: Neil stank of sweat and dirt. At one point, his foot dangled right in front of Samir’s nose, making him gag. Samir reflected he likely smelled as badly as Neil did; he didn’t feel it because everyone got used to and accepted their own stink, on both physical and psychological levels. Me smell fine, me do no wrong: it was impossible to get on and through one’s own life without that belief.

It took Neil a while to climb to the top of the tree: he ran into a column of ants along the way, ants that were highly resentful of his presence. After much yelping and cursing he was able to get around this obstacle, and soon afterward he called:

“I can’t see anything!”

“Look harder!” Samir shouted. Something was pressing into the small of his back. He reached round and found he had a knife strapped to his belt!

He slid it around to the front. It was sheathed in rough hide, and it wasn’t big – when Samir pulled it out, the blade didn’t even reach across his palm. But it was metal! Matte, dark brown metal pocked with many tiny holes, but metal! And the blade was sharp, all right – Samir tested it with his thumb and a thin red line appeared instantly.

Sucking on his wounded thumb, he waited for Neil’s report. It wasn’t coming. Instead, he heard Neil moving among the branches: a few dead leaves fluttered down. It sounded as if Neil was climbing down. What was he thinking?

“Hey!” Samir called out.

A branch shook violently, and Neil’s face appeared in the foliage, still quite high up. He was holding a finger to his lips!

Samir dropped to a crouch, his right hand on the hilt of his new knife. Neil’s bow and throwing spear were propped up against the trunk of the tree, and he grabbed the spear and glanced around wildly.

No one and nothing within a couple of hundred paces; but he could hear sounds now, gentle rustling sounds – it was impossible to tell whether they were caused by Neil or by someone else, someone or something out of Samir’s sight. Gripping the spear tightly, he waited.

Finally Neil dropped to the ground with a soft thump. He wiped the palms of his hands on his hips and looked at Samir and said softly:

“There are some people coming our way. I could just see their heads and shoulders but I think they don’t have any clothes. There are four or five of them and there is at least one woman. They will be here in a few moments and they’ll see us if we don’t hide now.”

“How far away are they?” Samir whispered.

“By now, no more than a hundred paces. What do we do?”

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