The Brave New World 90 The Burning Man

Although Amrita's mother had not come to the market that day, Rani saw many other mothers that had brought their children in the hope of finding someone who would be able to take care of them. It seemed to be a growing trade.

The trader who had set up shop next to her, a gaunt-faced man who had brought two immense baskets of mixed greens, had arrived alone but left in the company of a boy ten or eleven years of age. Rani had overheard some of the conversation between the trader and the boy's tearful mother. She practically begged him to take the boy, because she was unable to feed him any more. The trader only agreed after she'd pressed a few filthy banknotes into his hand.

She wanted to tell Samir what she had seen when she got back home. However, Samir had plenty to say to her too, and got started the moment Rani showed up.

He had gone to the supermarket to collect their bicycles: the store's owner had promised they would be ready and waiting that day. They weren't. What was more, the price had changed. The store owner now wanted an extra ten kilos of mangoes and ten of fish. Bicycles were a very hot commodity, everyone wanted one.

After that, Samir had gone to the newly opened Colonial Office near their home. He wanted to find out more about the cost of colonial licenses and the privileges that they bought. No one knew anything. It was all a joke. The first of March was supposed to be the big day when everyone switched to the new currency, and the colonization program was officially launched. That was just a few days away! They'd never get the whole thing working in time.

On top of that, their illegal little colony in the New World wasn't doing well. The two newborn babies were a great burden. Samir had already conferred with Madan over there, and they'd agreed they just couldn't handle the workload.

When Samir told her he wanted to replicate Amrita in the New World, Rani was aghast.

"But you can't do that!" she cried.

"I've talked to her about it. She's already agreed. If you want to know, she's happy to do it."

"But she can't decide! She's under legal age!"

"Rani," Samir said. "She's old enough to look after the goats and the rice paddy. It will be a great help. At the very least, she'll be earning her keep. She's got a good appet.i.te, I'm sure you've noticed."

"She's already looking after our vegetable patch here."

"There will be a while before we get to eat any of those vegetables. Anyway, it only takes her a couple of hours a day."

"I won't agree to it. I just won't. It's not right."

But within a couple of hours, she was forced to change her mind.

After their meal, they tried to communicate with the New World, and found that they couldn't. The telepathic contact had been broken. Samir freaked out so badly he had to go for a walk to bring himself under control. Rani felt very tired by it all, and she lay down for a nap. Thanks to that, she could tell Samir when he returned that it was business as usual with the New World. There was no direct contact, but otherwise everything had stayed the same. As proof, she pointed to the small pile of mangoes she'd sent over in the meantime.

Then she told him about what she'd seen in the market. She told him about the mother who paid money just so her son would get taken off her hands. She told him there were more and more mothers with a similar problem.

Samir jerked as if he'd been prodded with something sharp. He said:

"We can do a lot of good, Rani. We can take in some of those kids, and care for them. But only if they also help us out in Kulaba."

'Kulaba' was the name they'd given to their colony in the New World. It was inspired by a historical island fortress south of Mumbai.

This time, Rani did not say'no' right away. Samir had picked the right argument to get through her defenses. But she wasn't enthusiastic either, and they were still arguing when there was a piercing scream outside.

Amrita ran into the room, wild-eyed with fear. She cried:

"There is someone on fire outside! The bucket, quick!"

But the bucket was empty: it usually was at the conclusion of a meal, after all the cooking and eating utensils had been washed. And it was all over before they'd managed to fill it up at the communal tap.

Samir told Rani and Amrita to go back inside. Then he went to talk to the people who were standing over the twisted body lying in the field.

He was gone for a quite a while, and when he returned he told them that the dead man was Sunil's father. Sunil was a man who lived in one of the houses across the field. Samir and Rani knew him: he was a tall, overweight man who was always smiling, and took great pride in having a job that required him to wear a proper s.h.i.+rt. A couple of times, he and Samir had gone for a beer together.

"They've been short of food for a long time," Samir told Rani. "And the old man was sick, and in constant pain. They'd run out of painkillers and couldn't get any. He killed himself so as not to be a burden to them any more. That's what they say, anyway. But he chose the wrong way to go about it."

"What do you mean?"

"He used up the last of their kerosene. They can't afford to buy more. It's gotten very expensive. They're in a bad fix, and I've promised we'll help them."

"You want me to cook for them?"

"No, no. Amrita, can you leave me alone with my wife for a moment? I'll call you when we're finished."

After Amrita had left, Samir said to Rani:

I'll give them some firewood. We've got enough in Kulaba. I'll send some over and take it round to their place."

"But it's completely different from the firewood you get around here!"

Samir shrugged.

"I don't think they'll ask where it came from," he said. "And even if they do, I won't tell."

"Oh, but they won't ask you about it. They'll just gossip about it to everyone they know. The whole neighborhood will know about our mysterious firewood."

"By the time they do, we'll have our licenses and everything will be fine. I'll ask Sunil to make sure they keep quiet about the firewood. I'll tell him he won't get any more, otherwise. I'm sure that will work."

"Why are you being so nice to Sunil and his family? It's not like you are friends."

"I'm thinking about recruiting him into Kulaba," said Samir.

"You want to replicate him in our colony?"

"Yes. We need more people, Rani. And they need us. You know that. You've told me about the market. It's become a market for people, too. Mothers selling their children into slavery."

"It's better to be a slave than dead from starvation," said Rani, instinctively leaping to defend the mothers. "And there are many different kinds of slavery. Remember what you used to say about Mr. Go and his five-year contracts?"

"We are talking about different things," Samir said. "I'll put it straight to you. If Amrita cannot help us out in Kulaba, she leaves. There are plenty of other people who need help as badly as her, and who will gladly take her place. And who will be very happy to join our colony, get all the food or firewood they need, and maybe even get rich with time."

Rani was silent; he could tell he'd scored his point. Just to make sure, he added:

"She's been helping out here with the vegetable patch, and I didn't hear you making comments about child labor. If she's old enough to work over here, she's old enough to work over there. She will like it better than working here. You'll see."

Rani said:

"But it's not a question of her working or not at all. Having a second self in another world is a big thing, Samir. Only an adult can make that sort of decision."

"And what does 'adult' mean, Rani? She's old enough to work. She's old enough to have a baby."

"How do you know?"

"You forget I am the one who takes out the garbage," Samir said.

Rani was silent. She knew what Samir said was true. She'd given Amrita some of her own sanitary pads when she saw the girl was using a dirty rag to stop her menstrual bleeding. She should have told Amrita to throw them away somewhere else than the garbage can.

"And think about those people you call children that you saw at the market," Samir said. "Did you see boys capable of fathering a child, and girls capable of bearing one? They're adults. That's who they are. That whole legal age thing has been determined by older people. People who didn't want to share power with the young. I've met plenty of so-called children that were more capable and clever than so-called adults. So have you. Anyone capable of reproducing is automatically an adult. That's the natural order of things."

"Yes," said Rani.

"What?"

"Yes. I agree. If Amrita wants to..."

"She does. Amrita! You can come in now."

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