Amrita woke Samir up an hour before it dawned in Mumbai, just as arranged earlier. He ate a light breakfast, glancing at the sleeping Neil. The boy had already proved to be a hard worker, and intelligent - not too much, just the right amount, without any danger of getting too many ideas of his own.
However, even with Neil's help they couldn't welcome Sunil and his family into Kulaba just yet. It would take them at least three New World weeks to finish Sunil's house, sew the needed clothes, make a few extra pots and bowls and baskets... Food was a problem, too. Samir had promised the clerk at the municipal office he'd deliver the first thirty kilos within a couple of days.
As soon as the sun came up, Samir went over to Sunil's house. He informed a sleepy Sunil that he wouldn't be joining the colony just yet: a couple of extra days were needed to set up things properly for his arrival. Sunil immediately became suspicious. No longer sleepy, he bombarded Samir with questions. Would the rest of his family get their own hiber beds? What was the daily food quota he could send back home? How did the other colonists react to news of his impending arrival?
Each of Samir's answers brought more questions. Eventually he grew irritated, and told Sunil to stop: he would be finding things out for himself within a few days. He returned home, and found a mound of food had been sent over in the meantime.
Samir and Rani had situated the launch platform in the New World so that the goods they sent arrived in a windowless corner of their room, safe from inquisitive eyes. It was obvious that location wouldn't work so well for large quantities. Delivering these quantities to the municipal clerk was going to be difficult, too. Samir groaned, and passed his hand over his face. Problems, new problems to solve everywhere he looked!
He decided he would begin by going to the store owner who had promised him a couple of bicycles. He had demanded an extra ten kilos of mangoes and ten of fish last time they talked. Well, first he would have to show his good faith by giving Samir one of the bicycles. That would make delivering the town clerk his due much easier.
It was a hot, humid day, and Samir was sweating heavily by the time he got to the supermarket. It was deserted, save for the security guards: there was nothing to sell. One of the guards informed Samir he would find the owner in the office at the back.
The owner of the supermarket was a big, fleshy man in his late fifties who had mysteriously become even fleshier and fatter in spite of the food shortage. His name was Paul Leduc, and he had been born in Lebanon: he'd inherited the pale skin of his European great-grandfather, who had been a sergeant-major in the French Foreign Legion. The store owner had repeatedly mentioned that to Samir, as if having an ancestor in a military organization full of criminals was something to be proud of. The Foreign Legion granted its soldiers immunity from prosecution: it had been a favored employer among Nazi war criminals following the Second World War.
When Samir entered the office, Paul Leduc was sprawled in an office chair he'd moved to the window, and was looking at the view outside with a jaundiced eye while chewing on a toothpick. He glanced at Samir and raised a pudgy hand in greeting, along with an enquiring eyebrow.
"I've come to collect one of the bicycles," said Samir. He was about to say more, but stopped. There was a bicycle inside the office, propped up against the wall next to the entrance. It looked brand new, and it had a wide baggage rack in the back and a large wire basket in the front, mounted just below the handlebar. It was perfect for Samir's purposes.
"That's all very nice," Paul Leduc said lazily. His tongue flicked out and moved the toothpick to the corner of his mouth. "Have you brought the fruit and the fish? I don't see any."
"You'll get them, don't worry," said Samir. "But the deal we made was for two bicycles. I've already paid you more than enough for one."
"Correct," nodded Leduc. "It was for two bicycles. And you'll get them when you deliver what you promised."
"I need a bicycle right now."
"That's too bad."
"Why can't I take that bicycle?" asked Samir, pointing.
"Because it's mine."
"You have bicycles in your storeroom," said Samir. "You showed them to me."
"So?"
"So you can easily replace this one."
Samir stepped up to the bike and lifted it up, turning it around. Leduc got up from his chair and took a step forward.
"Put that bicycle back," he growled.
"I'm taking it," Samir said simply. "I'll be back with the fish and the fruit within a couple of hours. Then you can give me the second bicycle."
"You're a thief!"
"No," said Samir "I'm your new business partner. You want to have some food to sell in this store of yours? I can deliver it."
He didn't wait for a response. He pushed the bicycle through the doorway while Leduc watched, suddenly deep in thought.
He was still deep in thought when Samir returned together with Neil two hours later. He took delivery of the mangoes and the fish, grumbling about the quality of the fruit.
"Those are wild mangoes," Samir told him. "You found nothing wrong with them earlier. Now give me the second bicycle."
"Wait," said Leduc. He glanced at Neil and said:
"Can you leave us alone for a minute?"
"No, he stays," said Samir. "He's my partner. And that means he's your partner, too."
Leduc stared at Samir.
"You've changed," he said slowly.
Samir shrugged. Leduc glanced at Neil again, then looked at Samir and said:
"Okay, let's go get your bike. I'll let you choose from the bicycles in the stockroom."
There were seven, all but one identical to the bicycle Samir already had. The single exception had its frame painted dark red instead of black, and that was the one Samir chose. The second bicycle was meant for Rani, and he knew she liked red.
Following that, Leduc and Samir had a short but fruitful business conversation. Leduc got first pick of any goods Samir would import from the New World. He would get the first few shipments free of charge. In return, he would send a small but well-equipped construction team over to Samir's house. They would build a couple of staircases to the second floor, put shutters in all of the windows and doors in the doorways. Samir undertook to feed the men in the team as long as it took to complete the job.
A couple of hours earlier, Leduc had been calling Samir a thief. Now he was calling him mon ami, a stupid affectation because Leduc, in spite of his name and ancestral roots, knew nothing of French except for a handful of useful words such as 'putain' and 'bordel'. Things had definitely changed.
A few minutes later Samir and Neil left, each riding a bicycle. They went home, loaded more food, and traded it for two strong chains with hefty padlocks. Samir noticed that Neil had begun looking at him with a doglike devotion. He remembered what Madan had said about spiritual unity, and snorted. When people were well off, when everyone had a comfortable life, religious differences magically melted. Sure, they could still be exploited, used as a tool to gain ascendance over an adversary. But otherwise, they simply ceased to matter.
Madan and his new religion! He'd have nip this project in the bud, particularly if it involved long ceremonies, religious holidays, days off work. If someone wanted to get mystical, they could smoke some of the wild hemp they'd recently found growing not far from Kulaba. It was a valuable discovery: in addition to entertainment, hemp could provide them with tough clothes and strong ropes.
When they got home, Amrita begged Samir to let her rest: she had been up for eighteen hours. She was also very eager to return to the New World. Samir could see Neil liked the notion, too. He told Neil he could give him an hour, and went out to inspect the vegetable patch.
As he did so, he suddenly became aware of the fact that the field around the house was legally his, all of it. This included the patches cultivated by people living across the field. They were using his property without permission!
Samir instantly became angry. He had been doing the same thing, worse, he had been living in someone else's house right up until the previous day. But 'someone else' hadn't minded that. 'Someone else' had abandoned the house and the land. Samir was on the spot, and had no intention of letting people use his land. Well, maybe he would make an exception for Sunil, but no one else.
It was clear as day it was time to get a private force organized. Nothing much, a few boys with stout staves would be enough. He'd pay a visit to each of his neighbors with this entourage, and explain that the little plots they worked were now his property. He would let them continue until the harvest, of course. He wouldn't be heartless. They could pay him for using his land with some of the food they'd grown.
Samir was struck by a sudden brainwave. He would recruit all of them into his colony! It was the ideal solution. They all lived close. They all needed his help. In return, they would provide him with colonists for Kulaba.
And as Kulaba grew bigger and stronger, so would Samir's position in Mumbai. He could become lord of the whole area if he wanted to!
"Samir!"
He jerked. He looked around and saw that it was Sunil who had broken his reverie. Sunil was trotting across the field to speak to him. He looked very worried! Samir felt himself getting tense: he was sure bad news were on the way. He was right.
"An army officer was looking for you," Sunil told him. "I intercepted him before he got to your house. I told him that you were away, and that you are a very busy man. He asked me to pass on a message. He wants to talk to you. He said he will come again in a week's time. Second of March, two pm. He said things could go badly for you if you aren't there."
Samir swallowed and said:
"Did he tell you why he wanted to talk to me? What this is about?"
"No. Just that he needs to talk to you, and that you'd better be here."
"You said you intercepted him? You were at my house when he came around?"
"No, no," Sunil said quickly - too quickly, Samir thought. "I was tending my plot. He walked up to me and asked if my name was Samir."
"I see," said Samir. He did. Sunil was lying. Most likely, he was the one to have brought the officer sniffing around. There would be pressure applied, but no threats about running an illegal colony, that was clear. The mysterious officer wouldn't give Samir the chance to legalize it, otherwise.
What was Sunil's plan? What was he after? Samir looked into Sunil's eyes and saw they were frightened. He smiled and said:
"Sunil, I have news for you, too. It's about this land."
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