The Brave New World - 157 The Long and Winding Road To Your Home

“Follow me. Try to make no noise. If you want to communicate something, tap my shoulder. Let’s go.”

Crouching, he began moving towards a big shrub growing on a small rise in the ground. After a few steps he glanced round to see that Neil following him exactly as instructed. The boy was good, he made practically no sound – he was actually stealthier than Samir himself! It had been a very good move to recruit him.

Samir picked a course that minimized disturbing the tall grass. When he reached the rise, he dropped flat and gestured at Neil to do the same. They crawled over the rise, turned round, crawled a few steps back and hid behind the shrub. Samir reached out and parted a couple of branches: he could now safely watch the scene while staying undetected.

He spotted the strangers right away. They were crossing a relatively bare patch of ground less than a hundred paces away, walking in Samir’s direction, in the direction of Kulaba! Something would have to be done to make them change their course.

But as Samir watched the small group draw closer, he began to doubt it would get anywhere near Kulaba. The travelers were on their last feet. They took small, short steps and as Samir watched, one of them staggered and came close to falling down.

He counted them: five, three men and two women. One man and one woman were still teenagers. They seemed to be coping better than the others. They were walking at the rear of the group, likely following orders from an older and supposedly wiser leader. They had to stop frequently to avoid running into the people in front.

Samir decided the two teenagers were the most dangerous of the whole group. He glanced at Neil and saw that the boy had his bow ready. He whispered:

“Don’t stand up and show yourself when I do. Stay hidden, and take aim at that young man at the back. He’ll be the biggest danger if there’s any trouble.”

Neil’s eyes grew wide with apprehension, but he nodded obediently. Samir added:

“I don’t think there’ll be any trouble. And if there’s a fight, we’ll win: they look exhausted. I think I can resolve this peacefully. But if it turns out I am wrong, don’t hesitate. Act. Remember, the young man at the back.”

“I’m not sure I can hit him,” whispered Neil. “This bow – ”

“Yes, yes. I know. Do your best. And I’ll do my best so that there isn’t any fighting.”

They waited, watching the strangers approach. They were in no mood to climb even the slightest rise in the ground. They changed their course slightly to pass maybe twenty paces to Samir’s left. The grass grew higher and in greater abundance there, and he decided he would challenge the strangers earlier, before they drew level.

He turned his head and whispered to Neil:

Then he swiftly crawled a few steps away from Neil and stood up, leaving his throwing spear lying on the ground.

They didn’t notice him! Their eyes were fixed on the ground, they were completely focused on taking small, baby steps. Samir had a brainwave: the terrain here was much harsher than around Kulaba. There was plenty of small, sharp stones, plenty of dry, thorny twigs. The strangers were stark naked, and it was unlikely they had any footwear. It was very likely the soles of their feet were covered with wounds. In any of them tried to run, they wouldn’t get far.

Samir cleared his throat. Nothing! No one looked at him. Incredible! He cleared his throat again, and said loudly:

“Stop. Stop now, all of you. You’re on my territory.”

They stopped immediately – they’d probably been thinking all along of stopping. Their hands flew to their crotches: the two women raised arms to cover their breasts. They all stared at Samir, who had to make an effort to give them a reasonably friendly smile. He said:

“Who are you? Where did you come from? What are you looking for?”

One of the men in front of the group was visibly older than the others. His hair had receded from his forehead, and there were deep grooves running down around his mouth. He carried himself proudly in spite of his misery, and obviously was the leader of the group. Samir pointed at him, and said:

“You. Answer me.”

The man opened his mouth, but all that emerged was a rasping wheeze. Samir reached back and brought his waterskin round to the front and slung it off his shoulder. He took out the stopper, and made a show of pouring water into his mouth.

It was a brilliant move. It instantly hypnotized the strangers into total obedience. Not one of them would be even thinking of running away.

Samir held out the waterskin by its strap, and said to the group’s leader:

“Come closer.”

They all started shuffling closer, eyes fixed on the waterskin. Samir stooped, and picked up the throwing spear.

“Stop, or there’ll be trouble,” he said sternly. “Everyone will get a drink, I promise. Neil? Come over here.”

Neil emerged from behind the shrub, bow at the ready. He slowly walked to stop by Samir’s side.

“No funny business,” Samir said. It had been the favorite phrase of his supervisor at work, back in a bygone era. He handed the waterskin to the group’s leader, saying:

“Have a drink and pass it back to the others. And start telling me what I want to know. Who are you, and where are you from?”

The man drank noisily, taking several gulps before passing the waterskin to a woman whose hands shook when she took it. He said:

“We’re from Jambulphada. There is plenty of water in Jambulphada. But there wasn’t any here when we arrived! They lied to us. They told us the New World was a copy of what we have back home! They told us there was plenty of water and wild foods!”

The rest of the group murmured in agreement. The woman who had just drank from the waterskin said:

“We spent a full day looking for water around the place we arrived in. We didn’t find any, and we found very little food.”

The leader silenced her with an outstretched hand. He didn’t like her stealing his show. He said:

“I decided we should head west. I was sure we would come across the government settlement if we kept going west. And I was right!”

He glanced back at the others triumphantly. Samir said:

“You were wrong. You haven’t found a government settlement. This is a private colony. My colony.”

There was a short but heavy silence, broken only by the gurgling noises made by the teenagers at the back of the group: Samir’s waterskin had finally reached them. Samir didn’t doubt it would be completely empty by the time he got it back. He wasn’t worried: Neil’s waterskin was more than half full, and there was running water, a small river, within a four-hour walk. But one had to know which way to go; if the unlucky colonists from Jambulphada kept on their course, they’d pass the river without ever seeing it.

The leader of the group said:

“We are very sorry, sir. We did not know this land belongs to your colony.”

Samir nodded graciously.

“What do you do, back at home?” he asked.

The leader told him he was a caretaker at a primary school: he had his wife with him, and she was a teacher. The other adult man was the wife’s brother. Back home, he’d been employed as an electrician’s assistant. The two teenagers were the leader’s nephew and niece. They had already finished school and had held jobs of their own, until recently. The boy had worked in a motorcycle repair shop, and the girl worked at a neighborhood farm.

They had all purchased colonist licenses – implant kits accompanied by a few pages of basic documentation. They had saved and scrimped to do that, and sold off whatever belongings they could. They had been led to believe the New World was a paradise waiting with open arms. Plentiful food, no dangerous animals or poisonous insects, no diseases!

They were close to collapsing from dehydration when they met Samir. They were hungry and desperate. They begged Samir to let them join his colony. They promised to obey him, and work very hard indeed. All they wanted was enough food to keep on living, both in the New World and back home. Please! Please, sir!

Samir felt really good listening to their pleas. Power is a very strong, very enjoyable narcotic, and he was far from immune to its charms. He no longer had to put any effort into his smile. He turned to Neil, and asked him:

“What do you think, Neil? Tell me.”

A fresh chorus immediately rose, telling Neil he had the kindest heart in the entire universe. Samir frowned, and said:

“All right. Enough of that. I will demand you to swear an oath of allegiance.”

They were all ready to swear it to such a benevolent lord. They were ready to swear it right away!

“No,” Samir said sternly. “It is a very special ceremony. And it will only take place once you’ve proved your loyalty.”

“Our lives are in your hands,” said the leader’s wife dramatically. It was music in Samir’s ears, all the more because it was true.

“All right,” he said, after a suitable silence had passed. “I will take you in as my colonists. For a period of probation. If you fail to prove yourselves…”

He paused. It dawned on him he’d failed to devise a system of penalties. Madan and his religion nonsense! What the colony needed was a penal code. He felt angry he hadn’t thought of that earlier.

He glared at the supplicants before him, and said:

“You better prove yourselves. You better prove yourselves!”

Once again, an enthusiastic chorus promised him hard work and total obedience.

“Good,” he said. “Neil, we’re going home. We’ll stop tonight at the river,” he added, winking with the eye that was hidden from his new recruits. He turned to face them, and added:

“We will share our food with you when we stop for the night. You will be able to drink as much as you want to, and to wash. We will reach one of my settlements tomorrow.”

He turned to Neil and winked again and Neil winked back. He was a bright boy, and he understood the importance of returning home by a roundabout route, just in case.

Samir said:

“All right, let’s get going. Neil, you’ll lead the way.”

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