The Brave New World 93 A Question Of Faith

Samir gave him a grateful look. He turned to Rani and said:

"You see. Madan agrees with me. I think you let your initial dislike of Sunil influence your judgment."

The three of them were squatting by the entrance to Kulaba's communal cookhouse. When Samir returned to his home in Mumbai, Rani was already stretched out on the mat, with Amrita awake and watching over her. Amrita was bubbling with happiness. The New World was wonderful! She loved it there! She wanted to go back as soon as possible.

Samir sourly instructed her to stay awake and alert, and to wake him and Rani an hour before dawn. That gave him three full days in the New World. Then he lay down, and called a meeting the moment he entered his second self in the New World. Madan's wife, Kali, did not partic.i.p.ate. She always left the decision-making to Madan, and anyway there was no shortage of tasks to attend to: the infants, the goats, repairing the fis.h.i.+ng net, gathering firewood, foraging for wild foods...

Rani looked at Samir and Madan. They were both staring at her as if they were trying to will her into agreement. Was she really stupidly prejudiced against Sunil? She tried to tell herself she was but no matter how hard she tried, deep inside she still mistrusted him. There was something false, something phony about Sunil. It bothered her.

"Does it matter what I think? I'm outvoted anyway," she said.

"Of course it matters what you think," said Madan.

"What you think is very important," said Samir.

Rani smiled to herself. Had Samir really valued her opinion, he would have never recruited Sunil in the first place. She said:

"I think we're wasting time. What's done is done, Sunil and his family will be joining us in a few days. They'll all need a roof over their heads, and basic clothing. On top of that, there are all the commitments Samir has made. We'll have to produce ten times more food than we do to meet them. So please excuse me, I have to help Kali with the net."

Samir and Madan didn't move when Rani left. They remained squatting by the cookhouse entrance, squinting in the sunlight at what they could see of their settlement. After a short discussion, they decided to convert the storage shed they'd built earlier into a home for Sunil and his family.

"We'll be sending home practically all the food we've got stored there anyway, given your commitments," said Madan, and Samir thought he could hear censure in his voice.

Samir was silent for a while. Then he said:

"Listen, Madan. I told you many times you should move closer to us in Mumbai. You are wasting a lot of time here on all those trips to send food from the platform you've got at your old place. Now that I have a house, you could move in with us for a while. And later on, after we've made some money, you could get a house nearby. From what I've seen, it won't be hard to find one."

"Rani won't object?"

"She was the one who had the idea first. She's told you should move, too."

Madan looked uneasy. After a while, he said:

"It's going to take a while. We will have to walk all the way from Khalapur."

"You don't have bicycles?"

Madan shook his head.

"Remember what I told you about the street gang that took over my first settlement?" he said. "They paid me a visit in Khalapur, too. I had to bribe them to leave us alone. I had no money when they came, so they took some other things. My bicycle was one of those things."

"That's another very good reason why you should move to Mumbai."

"Kali's family is in Khalapur," Madan said. "She won't like that."

"She prefers to live in a place where you're terrorized by a street gang? A gang that took over your New World settlement, raped her, and turned you two into slaves?"

"That gang doesn't really exist any more. Soldiers shot a few when they were looting a store, and killed the leader. A couple more were arrested."

"But you didn't get your bicycle back?"

"No."

Samir sighed.

"Madan," he said. "You really must move to Mumbai. It's the only reasonable solution. Now let's get started on that shed."

They only had a few hours left before sunset, but they managed to a.s.semble most of the building materials they would need for the construction work. They also got started on taking their stores out of the shed. Samir could still feel Madan's resentment at the fact that most of the communal food would be sent to pay for Samir's purchase of the house.

But Madan's att.i.tude changed when, over supper, Kali voiced enthusiastic approval for their proposed move to Mumbai. She thought it was a great idea.

"But I remember you saying you don't want to leave your family," Madan protested.

"My family is here," Kali said, and Rani was so moved she felt her eyes moisten.

Everything was finalized before they split up to go to sleep. Samir took that chance to tell Amrita in Mumbai about the big s.h.i.+pment of food that would be coming. She didn't expect him to be around - after all, he'd told her to wake him an hour before it dawned in Mumbai. And so he caught her standing just outside the house, and chatting to a boy he'd never seen before.

"I told you to keep watch," Samir growled.

"But I AM keeping watch! He is helping me."

Samir examined the boy. At the moment, the boy looked like he wouldn't be any help to anyone: he was badly scared. He was roughly Amrita's age, maybe a little older. He was taller than her by a head, and terribly thin. Samir noticed that the boy kept one of his hands hidden behind his back, and he instantly guessed what had been going on: Amrita had been giving him food.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Neil."

"Your family lives around here?"

"No."

"Then where are you from?"

"Chanje."

"But that's a short walk away! Why are you lying?"

"My family doesn't live in Chanje any more. I am the only one left there."

Samir was about to tell the boy to go away when he had an idea. He looked at Neil with new eyes: yes, given a week and plenty of food Neil could become quite useful. He said:

"Well, come in and eat something and tell me how come you're on your own."

His patience was tried: Neil couldn't talk for the next few minutes. He was too busy stuffing his face with food. The story, when it came, was sad.

Neil's mother had died the day of the catastrophe of a heart attack. Not long after that his younger sister died too, of a sickness that caused constant diarrhoea and stomach pains. His two older sisters were living with their husbands in different towns, far away: they'd lost touch. His father, driven half-insane by the two deaths, the loss of his job, and alcohol, had hanged himself a couple of weeks earlier. Suicide was a mortal sin for Christians, and the priest had refused to give him a burial.

"So you're a Christian?" asked Samir. Neil nodded warily.

"It makes no difference to me," Samir told him. "I just asked out of curiosity. Listen, I think I may have a solution to your problems."

Neil listened very attentively and patiently to what Samir had to say. Amrita didn't. She interrupted Samir repeatedly, telling Neil he just had to experience the New World. It was wonderful! It was beautiful! It was paradise!

It was all agreed shortly, and Neil received an implant and lay down on his own hiber bed when Samir did on his.

Samir forgot about one thing: clothes for Neil. He arrived in time to hear Rani's squeal, and to see Neil hunched over and covering his t.e.s.t.i.c.l.es with his hands. Hurried explanations ensued, after which Neil received Samir's spare pair of goatskin drawers.

Neil's eyes bulged when he saw the pile of food Samir and Madan had taken out of the shed. They remained bulging as Samir led him through the basics of colonial life.

"My G.o.d," he said, when he saw the fish jumping in the creek. Madan had accompanied Samir and Neil to the sh.o.r.e of the creek, and he twitched sharply when he heard Neil's exclamation.

"Neil is a Christian, back home," explained Samir.

"I see," said Madan, in a voice heavy with meaning.

A while later, when Neil and Amrita went off to collect firewood, Madan drew Samir aside for a private conversation.

"Your plan is to import as many colonists as possible, am I right?" he said.

"Yes," said Samir, slightly puzzled. Madan had always been in favor of what he called safety in numbers. He had been insisting on new colonists practically from Day One. What was this?

"You'll agree, my friend, that many people means many different people," Madan said, smiling a smile that suddenly reminded Samir of Sunil. Yes, Rani had been right: there was something oily about Sunil. Right now, there was something oily about Madam, too. Samir said:

"So? Madan, just get to the point. We have a lot of work to do."

"All right. You and I, Rani and Kali, we are are all alike in that we aren't too religious. If you know what I mean."

"I do," Samir said, feeling vaguely guilty. It made him angry and he snapped:

"I asked you to get to the point."

"It's one of the reasons we get on together so well. But the new people we bring in, they might not all be like that."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know how things are in Mumbai. But in Khalapur, people are going religion-crazy. There are at least three new religions, all wors.h.i.+pping our great-great-great-grandchildren who have given us this wonderful gift: a new world. And of course they've already started fighting among themselves. Each side is convinced their vision is the only one that is true and right. You know how it goes."

"Yes," Samir said. "And your point?"

"Most people aren't like you, me, Rani, Kali. Most people need religion in their lives. If we let them import all their religious differences here, into the New World..." Madan let his voice trail off. He shrugged, and looked at Samir.

"You understand?" he said.

"That's the point?"

"The point is," said Madan, "That we have to found our own religion. All of our people have to share the same beliefs. True unity is impossible otherwise. And without unity, we will have serious trouble, sooner or later. We have to have spiritual unity in our colony, Samir. That's my point."

"You want to invent a new religion?"

Samir couldn't help himself; he started laughing. He stopped only when he saw Madan getting angry.

"No, I don't want to invent a new religion," Madan said finally. "I want to do what founders of new religions always do: take bits and pieces that are already there, and a.s.semble them in a new way."

Samir was silent. Madan smiled, and added:

"Spiritual unity, Samir. We must have it."

"Fine," Samir said. "Now let's get going on that shed."

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