Chosen Spirits

by Samit Basu

  'So you're both turning all our lives upside down over some — friendly rivalry?'

  'Yes. Because only one of us can pass through a gate at a time. The country's changing faster and faster, and we have to make sure our family is inside the wall when each new storm comes. I can't do that unless you grow up.'

  'Sorry, I'm lost now. What wall?'

  'Delhi has always been a city of seven walls, and the men who live inside each. No, they’re not demolishing CP again, focus, use that famous imagination of yours. You could guess you’d crashed into your wall before, when you couldn’t go further, but now the walls can be mapped and measured, the tools exist. Just look at a 3D map of the data that counts — real estate prices. Water supply. Family influence ratings. Anything marking class — therapist location density. It's like those old geography maps — isotherms. The walls are isothermal. You can see who's inside and who's not. A lot of the first-city people can't even be tracked in this way — only other first-city people know who they are. They're on some global power map, or on an island somewhere the satellites aren't allowed to show.'

  'And I thought I was the family nerd. What wall are we in?'

  'We're in Delhi's third city. Chopra's in the second. Delhi's third city is, let's say, Asia's fifth city. It took our father his whole life to get into the third city from the fifth. You have no idea how difficult it is to jump two levels.'

  Rudra chews his food solemnly, but can't stop a slow grin from spreading over his face.

  ‘You should come make geekFlows for your friend Nikhil,' he says. ‘This will go down well with the anime crowd. Seventh circle, fourth wall, fifth building. Conspiracies, secret societies. Amazing.’

  'I always knew you were slow, but I'm honestly shocked you don't even see the city you live in, even after living near poor people. You lived fifteen minutes away from the dark places, the torture chambers, the camps, the respectable-looking colonies where they put up the IDs of tenants on the gates, like restaurants in the west.'

  'Okay, but you'll teach me, I'm sure. My whole purpose in life is to help you go through an invisible wall.'

  'Not me, idiot. Our bloodline. So one day, our children can rule the city, and the country, and invade the rest of the world. New Gupta kings. I know this sounds funny to you, but you'll find, one day, that you're settling down into the life that you're meant to have. You'll marry someone, you'll have a kid, you'll see everything differently. I'm going to get married next year.'

  'Congratulations, I suppose.'

  'Thank you, brother. She's a second-circle industrialist's daughter, she was there at the shraddho. She doesn't know yet. We're going to fall in love, make the whole city jealous, have the best wedding our family's ever seen. I'm not going to lecture you about fate, or destiny, we were both brought up to be modern, progressive people. But you'll find out one day that ultimately we are the tools of something larger than us.'

  'If this is leading towards accepting your guru...'

  'No. Forget him. Baba needed him, we don't. We're both strong-willed men, who believe in shaping our own lives. Baba didn't really believe in tradition either. He thought he was some American-type entrepreneur. But you cannot escape your destiny — both of us ended up exactly where we would have if we'd just been the kind of traditional people who do everything by caste.'

  'I don't know what our caste even is.'

  'That's called privilege. We might not believe in caste, but caste believes in us. Your friend Bijoyini, do you know even she does a caste-appropriate job? Roy means a family of small rulers, zamindars, land administrators managing turf for the local king. A reality manager in an age where data and attention are real estate? The exact same thing. She thinks she has that job because of what, her talent? She's allowed to have it because of her name. How many Dalits and Muslims do you think have jobs like hers? She thinks she's where she is because of her own choices, chance friendships, hard work. But she's ended up where destiny sent her. As we all will. Unless we escape to some foreign country and break the chain. But they have castes there too, it’s just invisible. It's going to take generations to get inside their walls, to put down roots strong enough to withstand their storms. As a younger son, that option was open to you. But Chopra was your last chance. You didn't take it.'

  'Good talk. Listen, Rohit- '

  'Quiet, I'm talking. When they hear Gupta, cowbelt types think we're baniyas, business people. Bengalis think we're baidyos, royal physicians. And we're both royal physicians and businessmen, bhai, that's how destiny works, you can fight it, you can strike out on your own path, exercise all the choices you want, but in the end you will come home. We're royal physicians, building the next generation of rulers for our country, even the world, if things go well. Do you even know what we do in our clinics, why we're so powerful? We're building perfect children for the richest of the rich.'

  'That sounds... crazy. And dangerous.'

  'It's the exact opposite. Baba was a clever man; he found the safest thing to do in this world. No matter who's in power, no matter who needs land or blood, no matter which country's secretly running ours, there's one thing all sides agree on — the children of the rich must be protected. The scientists making them perfect must be safe. We're on the way to hacking mortality itself, regeneration, replacement, human-machine integration. Maybe we'll get there within our own lifetimes.'

  'You want to be immortal.'

  'Of course I do! Why try to be a billionaire otherwise? But this isn’t just an idle dream. We can get there, and we already own some of the tools. No one's regulating us, the whole world's just investing, and trying to grab a piece. The Chinese were ahead of us, but their best labs were in Africa, and they lost so much when the shit hit the fan there. We might be the top line of clinics in the whole world. I want to show you, I will, soon as you're ready. And it's all ours. Maybe you and I will never have to die. Can you even imagine how much power that gives us?'

  Rudra finds he has no words. A waitress arrives with beef, rice and steamed fish. She asks him how the food is, in Mandarin. He nods, and smiles, opening his mouth too wide, and she backs away.

  'I know this is a lot, but you needed to know,' Rohit says. 'I was shocked too, when baba told me everything he'd accomplished. I took all that on, and, Rudra, you won't believe what the last five years have been like for me, or for ma. And you just weren't there. I protected you as much as I could — people have tried to abduct you seven times. Seven. And you wouldn't take our fucking calls.'

  'I'm sorry,' Rudra says. 'I just... I don't know what to say.'

  'Then just listen. Storms are coming. We don't know what they are. We live in a country that's so conformist even the fucking terrorists work for the government, but despite this it manages to be completely impossible to predict. The walls are going to crack, because a tide of people will try to break them, just billions of people who are useless, lost in the world, people who are angry and desperate to survive: they're going to try to take everything down with them, burn it all. Climate change will break walls. The robots will break walls. New diseases, tech disasters, all these things. They're all coming, all at the same time, until one day there's only one wall, and the people inside it are gods, and the people outside it are monsters, or dead. It's going to get fucking mythological. I'm going to be inside the wall. And I want my brother with me. Do you understand now? Have I woken you up?'

  'Yes,' Rudra says.

  'Are you going to do what I tell you?'

  'Yes?'

  'I don't believe you, but it's a start. Now eat your fish.'

  'What the hell is wrong with you?' Tara asks him that night.

  'Nothing,' he says, turning towards her, and noticing, far too late, new nightwear that he should have enthusiastically ripped off her a long time ago.

  'You've barely said a word all day. Is it me? Are you upset with me? Are you obsessed with Zaria? Do we have to move out tonight? What’s happening?'

  He hasn’t discussed his family yet
with Tara. Or with anyone else. He doesn’t know how.

  'Something my brother said. Family shit. I'm over it.'

  'Tell me.'

  'Not this week,' he says. ‘We still have this place, and our jobs, and some time. I don't want to ruin it.’

  'Why would I ask you about your family if I was planning to leave you after this week?'

  'You're not?'

  'No, you dumbfuck. We're a couple now.'

  Ablaze with joy and relief, he kisses her, but when he goes further she pushes him back.

  'Talk,' she says.

  'I don't know where to start.'

  'Why did you leave?'

  It wasn't something he'd ever thought he'd tell anyone, but he tells her. About how he used to sing and dance as a kid, and his family would encourage him, just make him perform in front of stupid clapping audiences. How there was one time when the whole extended family had gathered, and everyone had insisted that he dance to the new Bollywood hit, and he hadn't wanted to because he'd needed to pee, but they'd made him do it anyway, and just keep at it, and they hadn't let him stop until he'd pissed himself, and started crying, and just dancing wildly around the living room peeing and crying, and his father had recorded it.

  His memories of the incident are a muddle, just the sound of clapping and music and laughter turning into shrieks, and a feeling of immense confusion and excitement, and how when it happened, it had felt warm, even pleasant, and not even wet, until later. He'd forgotten about it somehow, no one had brought it up, until years later, when his father had been obsessed with being a first-wave social media star, had put that old video up, and it had gone viral. Everyone he knew had seen it. He'd been in his mid-teens then, a tangle of limbs and awkwardness and hormonal explosions anyway, but he's sure he'll go through his whole life without ever again feeling so much shame, so much betrayal, so much pure rage.

  'I'm sorry, but that's it?' Tara asks. 'This is your big trauma?'

  'Yeah, it does sound a bit stupid now. I was very upset.'

  'I mean it's sad and everything, but I thought it would be far worse.'

  'I guess so. It's why I left. I don't know if it's why I stayed away.'

  She reaches out to him, and kisses him again.

  'This is the past. He didn't mean any harm. It's nothing,' she says. 'I'm going to fix you.'

  'Yes.'

  'Take my clothes off now.'

  'Yes.'

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  HE HEARS TARA laughing as he wakes, and lies there listening, not wanting to open his eyes because that would mean starting the clock on the day, and it's the last day of her contractual relationship with Indi, her last day as a resident of the penthouse. Possibly his as well — the Flowco’s going to go with whatever Zaria wants, but she hasn’t deigned to tell him whether he has her approval. No one's asked Tara to leave the house yet, but she doesn't have his gift of invisibility — they're going to notice she's still around.

  She's not in bed, though, she seems to be walking around the room, probably on the phone. He opens an eye and peers at her: she's wearing one of his T-shirts and has a mug of coffee in her hands. How long has she been up? She's in Actress mode, delivering a rundown of her career thus far to some hopefully spellbound producer.

  The Flowco hasn't offered her any kind of new project, and she's angry with Joey because she'd been expecting solutions from her, not general life advice: she wanted a door, and all she's found is another wall with a motivational poster on it. Joey's told her to think of something that best expresses who she is and what she wants instead of chasing the market, which Tara says is classic gaslighting — whenever she's done that, starting from Day One with her futurist plan, Joey's told her the market doesn't want it, no one's ready for her. The market doesn't care about Tara and her ambitions, and has made this clear.

  Rudra thought Joey's offer to help Tara structure a solo Flow pitch was generous, especially given Joey's general sentiments about the Flowco at present. But all this is useless, Tara's explained: she needs to know what people want her to be, and then she can be the hell out of that target. Joey's just doing what every smug insider has done when they have nothing to offer her, pretending that Flows are commissioned on the basis of some sort of unique personality, not just matched with a shopping list of what's sellable at the moment. Joey knows what that list is, Tara's sure of it, but is withholding that information because she has a problem with Tara.

  Rudra has learned the hard way that defending Joey to Tara is a stupid idea, and he needs to work on his listening anyway, so he just listens as Tara explains to her mystery producer that she represents a new generation of exciting, authentic urban Indian voices. He finds Tara's performances on these calls amazing: her chameleon abilities both fascinate and vaguely frighten him. Every Flowstar has to calibrate their personality settings for public, business and private, he's seen Indi flip those switches many times, but Tara can go further: her movements, her voice, her vocabulary are micro-customisable, she's like a Design Your Avatar pre-game section. He's even discussed this with her: she's explained it's because she's so high-empathy she can't help part becoming each person she talks to, and mirroring them. It's what made her want to be an actress in the first place, before she learned those doors were closed or involved abuse she refused to take.

  'Empathy is like a superpower I can't control,' she'd told him. 'I think that's why I like you so much? With you, I'm myself.'

  It sounded like a compliment, but did she mean that he had no personality?

  Whoever she's talking to now is getting the full force of her charm. Rudra wonders for a while whether he should be worried. The possessive boyfriend is not a role he feels up to playing, but is it something she expects? Are there alpha-male patterns that she wants even if she keeps telling him she adores him for not being like all the others?

  It sounds like an exciting job, but she needs to figure it out, and she can't wait to meet. She's noticed he's up now, and blows him a kiss. She makes a series of animated gestures, but he can't figure it out, he's always been bad at guessing games, so he just smiles and reaches for his phone. It isn't in its usual spot, he looks around and finds it on his bed.

  He's slept through his alarm again.

  'I still find it hard to believe, I had no idea,' Tara says. 'And you're mean! He's not like that at all. You'll see.'

  Suddenly he's wholly awake. He waves at her, and she winks at him. He checks his phone and his worst fears are concerned: there's a received call from his brother.

  'You have a pool? That's crazy! I'm there, man. And yeah, of course Rudra's coming too. Don't worry.'

  'Are you talking to my brother?' Rudra asks.

  'He's up! You want to talk to him?'

  She holds out the phone to him, and he just stares and shakes his head.

  'Yeah, he's grumpy when he wakes up. Chill. I told you, I got this.'

  He's already out of bed, and heading for the living room, conscious only of a burning need for coffee. She's still on the phone when he returns, now talking in a murmur. She says her goodbyes when she sees him, hangs up, and beams at him.

  Dozens of questions jostle in his throat. 'What the fuck?' emerges first.

  'Okay, okay. Don't be mad, but I was up, and he called, you wouldn't wake up, so I just said hi on impulse. God knows how long you'd have waited to introduce me. I'm sorry! Don't be pissed? Tell me you're not pissed.'

  'I'm... no, I guess. It was just a bit of a shock.'

  'He was really sweet. Took my number, called, and... okay, we'll discuss this properly later, but he's really fond of you, okay, and the moment he heard we were together he wanted to know all about me, and he knows Jaipur really well, all my local politicians, but even the best chaat places, and, you know something, it's so weird, your brother is like halfway between you and all the guys I knew growing up? Anyway, that wasn't even the exciting part, it turns out he needs someone to start a Flow about your family clinics, like be their official spokesperson, a
nd actually be creative head for all kinds of shows about post-human upgrades and the hunt for immortality.'

  'No he doesn't.'

  'He just told me.'

  'Didn't say a word about this yesterday.'

  'Well, you're not a Flowstar, are you? He said he's seen my work, he's actually a fan, even before knowing about us, and if this Flowco doesn't have me there's always a place for me in your family businesses! You didn't tell me your family was starting a Flowco!'

  'It isn't.'

  'I guess you didn't know about it. It was amazing, Rudra! It was... no one's ever been that welcoming to me, and I have you to thank for it. I was really sad when I woke up today, but now...'

  She gives him a kiss that would normally have reduced him to jelly, but he pulls back. Her eyes actually glitter in excitement, he's never seen anything like it outside anime.

  'I think this might be it. He's sending a car over,' Tara says. 'Get dressed. Take me home. Show me everything.'

  'I don't think this is a good idea,' he says.

  It's like he turned off the central power, and he's immediately engulfed with remorse.

  'My brother is not to be trusted,' he says. 'He's involved in some kind of... okay, I shouldn't talk about this here. But this is a trap.'

  'He said you'd say that. Let's talk about it on the way. This means a lot to me, Rudra. The wellness space is insanely huge, it's secure, it's something I would be great for, and, my god, I've always wanted creative control, I have so many ideas, like I even told him the futurist ones, and he thought they were amazing. He listened, he got it. You guys, you're just well brought up, it's something else.'

  'I don't-'

  'And best of all I wouldn't have to worry all the time, I'd be working directly with the owners. What owners? With you. With my boyfriend. My Reality Editor. You have no idea how great this is. It's the dream. It's like everything's falling into place.'