The Brave New World - 165 The Sergeant Takes Charge

Samir got many dirty looks from the people lined outside the wall surrounding the supermarket compound. It was lucky that he’d received very few goods from Leduc: a full backpack would have encouraged thieves. He got onto his bike, and rode it home as fast as he could. He had a strong premonition something really bad was about to happen.

He was right.

Both Rani and Amrita were already home. They’d never made it to the market. They were assaulted and robbed on the way there. The thieves took Rani’s bicycle as well as all of her goods, and beat her when she resisted. Fortunately, no bones had been broken.

After he’d calmed down a little, Samir ran out of the house to find Varma. But the sergeant was nowhere to be seen: one of the soldiers working on the barracks informed Samir that Varma had gone to ‘secure supplies’. Samir surprised himself by feeling happy when he heard that. He wasn’t sorry any more for Varma’s victims.

He didn’t go back inside the house. The sight of Rani’s bruises made him angry, and he needed to stay calm. He watched the soldiers work and counted five; that meant Varma had taken with him almost half his workforce! It would take forever to build the barracks and the latrine if something like that happened every day.

He was walking up and down the lane, waiting for Varma’s return, when he was accosted by Madan.

“You have to come back to the house with me,” Madan said. “You have to visit Kulaba in person for a few hours. We have a crisis.”

“What crisis? What’s going on?”

“”An invasion of beggars,” Madan said. “It’s madness. They’re arriving from all directions! We have twenty naked, hungry people camping in the village. And your Samir insists that we let them stay instead of chasing them away because you want to start a new settlement in the valley with the metal ore.”

“Twenty people!?”

“Well, at least ten.”

“I have to stay here. I can’t sleep now.”

“Well, we have to do something. They’re going to eat us out of house and home.”

“Can’t we just send them off to the valley with a guide?”

“Without clothes? Without tools? Without food?”

“Just give them some crotch pieces and a couple of knives, and maybe an ax and a flint. They can work the rest out on their own.”

Madan stared at Samir, making a show of breathing heavily. He said:

“We can’t do it this way. If we are keeping those people, we have to cultivate their loyalty. We have to make them feel cared after and protected. I’ll be blunt: we have to make them psychologically dependent on us.”

“You’re using very big words, Madan. In reality it’s very simple. You do not win people over with strokes and kisses. You win them over by plunging their heads into shit, and then letting them take a breath when they’re about to drown.”

Madan was speechless for a while. Eventually he said:

“You’re mad. You’ve finally gone mad. I noticed you are changing, and not for the better. I hoped that you’d stop yourself in time. So I said nothing and you didn’t stop and now it’s too late. You’ve gone mad.”

“No,” Samir said. “I’m not mad, I’m right. I’ll prove it to you right away. How often do we feed them?”

“Two meals, one in the morning and another in the evening. They’ll be having their evening meal soon.”

“Delay it. Don’t give them anything to eat for a few more hours. Then give them the food, and watch their reaction. You’ll see how happy they are then. Much happier than if they’d received their meal at the usual time.”

“You may be right about that,” Madan admitted. “But this doesn’t mean it’s the right way to do things. It’s cruel, Samir.”

“The right way to do things,” Samir said, “Is the way that brings the best results. Everything else is secondary.”

Disgust flitted over Madan’s face. Samir saw that, and added quickly:

“Madan, you’ve known me for a while. We have been managing Kulaba together for a while. Am I a bad person? Am I cruel person?”

“No,” Madan said, but there was a tiny hint of doubt in his voice.

“They must work if they want to eat. Get them busy fishing, gathering coconuts, whatever. Send them out right away.

“Everything’s picked clean around Kulaba. They’ll have to go further out. They may get lost.”

“That’s their problem,” Samir said. “We don’t want colonists who cannot find their way to the toilet. Give them some baskets and a net, and a kick in the arse if necessary.”

“It would be better if you did all this in person.”

“I can’t. I am waiting for sergeant Varma. I have to speak to him the moment he returns.”

“Why?”

“Did you see Rani when you woke up?”

“No.”

“Go and say hello to her. You’ll find out why I want to talk to Varma.”

“Can’t you just tell me?”

“Go,” snapped Samir, and turned his back on Madan. Madan went away.

He felt he was beginning to boil with impatience. Where was Varma? What was taking him so long?

He found out when Varma finally made an appearance nearly an hour later.

Varma showed up driving a cargo rickshaw. His three men brought more booty: one was leading a goat, another a calf, and the third a train of three donkeys. The donkeys were carrying an assortment of sacks and baskets, and the rickshaw’s cargo tray was half-full of various items. Samir couldn’t believe his eyes, and immediately became apprehensive.

He’d reconciled himself to the thought that Varma would be confiscating things from people. But this went far beyond that, it was robbery on as grand scale! It wouldn’t go unpunished.

He was wise enough to conceal his feelings, and greet Varma warmly. He congratulated him on his haul before asking:

“Can you tell me how exactly you came into possession of all this? It’s much more than I expected. A goat! A calf! Three donkeys!”

“All of the animals were found wandering unattended in the street, breaking traffic regulations,” Varma said, slightly stiffly. “They have been impounded. And we also destroyed a major gang of smugglers.”

“Smugglers?”

“They were trading or were about to trade without the proper papers. They tried to run away the moment they saw us. I think you’ll agree this was very suspicious behavior. We found they were in possession of New World goods. None of them had a colonial license.”

“They could have received those goods from someone else. What were they? Food?”

“Yes. I could tell right away they were New World imports. The had smoked fish that were exactly like the fish I saw in Kulaba. There are no fish like that here.”

“You’ve confiscated them?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Can I see?”

“Of course.”

A single look was enough to convince Samir that Varma had been right. The mangoes looked exactly like the mangoes from Kulaba. The salted fish – why, he could have sworn he’d salted a couple of these personally.

He congratulated Varma on his quick thinking, and then told him what had happened to Rani and Amrita when they went to the market. He stopped halfway through his story, staring at the mangoes.

“Wait,” he told Varma and went away to fetch Rani.

Varma was outraged when he saw her cuts and bruises.

“I will hunt down those savages,” he declared. “I’ll find them, and confiscate all of their possessions.”

“You’ve already found them,” said Rani.

Varma stared at her. He said:

“What do you mean?”

“These are the mangoes I took to the market today. I recognize them, and I recognize the fish too.”

“The bastards,” Varma said through clenched teeth. “The bastards! And I let them keep their bicycles.”

“One of these was probably mine,” Rani said. “It was stolen.”

“I am going to go back there at once. I’ll get it back for you. I’ll hunt them down no matter where they hide.”

“I’m sorry, Arjun, you cannot go yet,” said Samir. “You have to lie down for a few minutes first. And I need to implant a couple of your soldiers right away.”

He described the situation in Kulaba to Rani and Varma.

“I’ve dealt with refugees before,” Varma said, with contempt creeping into his voice. “I’ll get rid of them.”

“We must help those poor people,” Rani said.

“We’ll do both,” Samir said. He told them about his plan to start a mining village.

“It has to be done right away,” he said. “I want them on their way to the valley at next sunrise.”

“I’ll need more than two soldiers with me,” Varma said. “How many of those refugees do you have right now?”

“They’re not exactly refugees. They are -”

“I know who they are,” Varma cut in. “How many?”

“Madan said at least ten.”

“I need four soldiers with me,” Varma said. “And a guide.”

“I’ll guide you there myself, and we’ll return together. We’ll leave the soldiers there to keep an eye on things. Do you agree?”

“I do,” sergeant Varma said after a short but heavy pause. “And I think that I need to recruit more men.”

“More men? How many?” Samir asked.

“At least half a dozen. Maybe more. It would be better to get more. I can find them easily if you give them the same terms you gave me.”

“I’m short of implant kits,” Samir said.

“If you give me the money, I can go and get colonist’s licenses and implant kits for all of them. And I should be able to find and confiscate a few illegal kits if I keep looking.”

“If I give you the money,” Samir said. Varma winked at him.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “The money will come.”

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