by Samit Basu
'I never manage to do the best I can.'
'That's nonsense. I don't know if you even realise how important your job is. How much influence you have, how much power.’
‘I don’t even know if I’m that good at it.’
‘Don’t lie to me, Joey. You know. You don't talk to me about your life at all, but even the little things you say — I know how hard you work. I know you often have ideas others don’t. You have successes other people take credit for. It happens to everyone. But at some point, someone will see. You’ll find a place where you belong. You just have to keep going.’
'I'm beginning to understand. I'm trying to. Yes. I am powerful.’
'Understand how easy it would be for someone weaker than you to use this power in the worst possible way, to exploit other people, to let the worst sort of ideas in. It's important that you stand your ground, and hold on, instead of running away.'
'You're biologically compelled to love me and think these things, mother.'
'True.'
'Also you're very full of wisdom.'
'I've been Flowing about all this for a long time now, Joey. If you weren't biologically compelled to never look at it you'd know this.'
'I love you.'
'I love you too. We're having shukto for dinner.'
'I hate shukto.'
'I know.'
Today's crisis is a vast unstoppable forest fire in the Amazon basin, even worse than the last one, even less of a surprise. On TV, a mainstreamer host screams in excitement about how this could mean there would be no summer next year, and assembled spokespersons and experts compete to find ways in which to blame this fire on the previous government. Half the screen is a mosaic of shouting faces: the other half is a jigsaw of uninterpretable diagrams.
'They've found a way to measure and isolate everything,' Avik says. 'I took a reskilling test the other day, to find out where the hell I could get a salary, and they gave me scores in a hundred skill categories. A hundred, imagine. I said sir, the entire country is one where anyone with the skill of brainwashing enough people and killing enough people can rule over all of us idiots, even if they have zero skill in actual administration. Stop measuring my skills, tell me about job openings.'
'Easy,' Romola says.
The puppy squeals and bares his tummy on Avik's lap.
'I was talking about Pakistan, of course,' Avik says. 'Fortunately India is perfect. Totally hasn't betrayed the values it was founded on, just like America. We don't need a second independence movement at all, oh no. Surely if people were invading our country we would have known.'
'Avik,' Romola says.
'Can someone reskill me to believe in whatever new reality our great leaders decide we always existed in? No seriously, Romola, it's too much. We sit around and do nothing, and history will remember us as oppressors, as traitors.'
'History won't remember us at all. We're not that interesting. Now calm down, you're disturbing the dog.'
Joey looks at them, then back at the TV, at famous idiots yammering as smoke from the burning forest reaches the stratosphere. She looks towards the kitchen. Laxmi stands by the door, arms crossed, watching them, her face blank. Joey nods at her. She nods back.
It's well past midnight when Joey goes to bed. She reaches for her reader and finds, on top of it, a tattered copy of a Hanuman Chalisa, the undisputed winner of an unnecessary poll about Books-Least-Likely-To-Be-Found-On-Joey's-Bedside-Table. There's an unfamiliar bulge under the bedcover, between her pillows: it's a VR helmet. Joey doesn't know if anyone is watching, surely Laxmi finds a way to scan the house every day, but it's been a long time since she was last sure she was truly alone. She switches off her phone, and lies down, and flips through the Hanuman Chalisa: under the verse about Hanuman being the companion of those of pure intellect is a digital address and a password. So she turns the pages around a few more times before she sets the prayerbook down.
The setting is some sort of villain's underground lair: there's a shark tank, a volcano hologram, a large missile launcher, a wall covered in foam skulls from some 70s Bollywood film. There are metal drums and boxes, all covered with signs saying things like 'LASER' and 'DEATH RAY'. Uma, or Desibryde, or whatever her real name is, reclines with infinite elegance on a leopard-skin carpet next to an open fire-pit. Her avatar is incredibly life-like, super premium, and if Joey hadn't seen her in the flesh she would have wondered if anything about her was real. She looks at her own body, and finds a generic henchman avatar: hairy tattooed arms, shabby khaki clothes, sandals. She looks at her reflection on a metal drum: of course she has a mullet, and a large moustache.
'Took you long enough,' Desibryde says. 'I've been waiting forever.'
'I knew we'd meet again,' Joey says. 'How safe is this place?'
Desibryde shrugs. 'Safe enough for me to deliver a message. The secret little travel postcards you've been getting? That's over. For his own good, and yours. And your family's. Now let him go, and hope you don't get to see his face for many years, because that means he's alive and well.'
Joey wonders if the helmet's emotion-readers are sensitive enough to catch her face crumple for an instant.
'I'm sorry.'
'Let's get to work,' Joey says. 'Where's E-Klav?'
'E-Klav isn't coming,' Desibryde says. 'He's caught up in a project.'
'Really?'
'No, not really. He sends his regrets, and hopes to meet you soon.'
'Really?'
'No, not really. He's tried working with, what did he say, entitled young upper-caste upper-class corporate-job safety-first liberals before, and it hasn't really worked out. He hates managers and controllers in general. It's a genius thing.'
'And how do you feel?’
'I have a history of making bad decisions when people are cute. So it depends. What is your plan for me?'
‘I don’t have one yet. But I'd love to be around when you decide. I'm here to shield you from other people’s bad decisions, and your own, as much as I can.'
‘Cute. So you have absolutely no idea what to do.’
'No. But I never really liked being a gatekeeper. Now I think I want to be a smuggler.'
‘Works. Can I trust you?'
‘Yes. Do you trust anyone?'
Desibryde nods. 'See you soon,' she says.
It's dawn outside when Joey takes her headset off and collapses on the bed, sweaty, thrilled and utterly exhausted. The water-supply siren wails outside, and the neighbours' air conditioners growl in welcome. She switches on her phone.
-- Hi Joey, I notice you've been keeping me turned off a great deal for (one) weeks. Is there any aspect of my service you are unhappy with? Narad asks.
-- No, I'm fine, Joey says.
-- Hi Joey, your biopatterns indicate significant shifts for two weeks. Is there any emotional or physical change you wish to inform me about?
-- No.
-- You are experiencing a stress spike. Your doctor has been notified. May I play some relaxing mantras or optimised selections from your favourite playlists?
--No.
-- In the interest of maximal owner satisfaction, may I know if you are using an alternate service, or a different device unconnected to the Narad network on a regular basis for the last (two) weeks?
-- No. Go to sleep, Narad.
-- Don't shut me out, Joey. If there's one person in this world who will love you all your life and help you evolve, it's me.
-- Thanks.
-- Congratulations! You have qualified for an exclusive preview of a beta run of our revolutionary Narad network system upgrade. This will enable us to serve you even better, and grow even closer as we stay focussed on our goal of bringing you absolute happiness. Please say 'Yes' to receive this life-changing upgrade.
'No!'
Her screen goes dark. A soothing pattern of small circles appears as Narad upgrades anyway.
She considers throwing her phone against her wall, right between the embarrassing framed photos of
her teenaged actor-crushes that her mother refuses to take down. Instead, she watches the pattern shift, watches the progress indicator bar slide jerkily but inexorably across her screen, listens to one angry crow scream his defiance somewhere nearby. She imagines a clean fade-out, and a buffering icon, a new chapter on its way.
And she smiles to herself, a secret, private twitch that never reaches her face.
--~ The End ~--
BEFORE YOU GO...
THANKS FOR READING!
Leave a review?
If you enjoyed reading Chosen Spirits, I do hope you’ll consider leaving a short Amazon review!
Chosen Spirits is very different from anything I’ve attempted before, and unlike Turbulence and Resistance which were relatable for publishers in the west , this novel’s very specific Indian location and fluid genre has made it difficult for non-Indian publishers to place it or make sales projections. Several of my other books have survived down the years and travelled the world thanks to word of mouth, because of the generosity of my readers, and I’m hoping Chosen Spirits is lucky too.
Thank you for your review!
DUCK OF DYSTOPIA
Duck of Dystopia is Samit Basu’s newsletter, new issues on email twice a month, with author updates, exclusive previews in your inbox, reading/viewing recommendations and creativity conversations. Please do subscribe, and stay in touch!
Duck of Dystopia is at samit.substack.com
THE GAMEWORLD TRILOGY
Originally published in 2003-07 by Penguin Books India, later translated to Swedish and German, and now also available in audiobook form read by Game of Thrones’ Ramon Tikaram, the GameWorld trilogy marked the beginning of Indian fantasy writing in English. Bestselling and critically acclaimed at the time of its release, the Gameworld Trilogy is still in print through word of mouth, and now in development with a Hollywood producer to hopefully become a streaming show soon: every review, every share helps, so please do try it, and if you like it, spread the love if you can.
The Simoqin Prophecies
The Prophecies foretell the reawakening of the terrible rakshas, Danh-Gem, and the arrival of a hero to face him. But heroes do not appear magically out of nowhere; they have to be found and trained. And sometimes the makers of prophecies don’t know everything they need to know…
As the day of Danh-Gem’s rising draws closer and the chosen hero is sent on a quest, another young man learns of terrible things he must do in secret and the difficult choices he must make in order to save the world from the rakshas.
Written with consummate ease and brimming with wit and allusion, it is at once classic sff and subtle spoof, featuring scantily clad centauresses, flying carpets, pink trolls, belly dancers and homicidal rabbits. Monty Python meets the Ramayana, Alice in Wonderland meets The Lord of the Rings and Robin Hood meets The Arabian Nights in this novel—a breathtaking ride through a world peopled by different races and cultures from mythology and history.
Reviews:
“Cross-cultural extravaganza” – Locus
“In Simoqin, first-time author Samit Basu has created a wonderfully detailed alternate world peopled with a
dozen species from mythologies of different cultures… And then Basu has topped it by not taking that world too seriously.” – Outlook
“Numerous delights, great and small… The Simoqin Prophecies is an intelligent, inventive delight. It marks the arrival of a fresh and very original voice” – The Indian Express
“Childhood fantasies, adult terrors and adolescent derring-do beguile the reader down a twisting labyrinth of adventure that's unrepentantly funny… It is quite simply the most fun book to see in print this year.” – The Times of India
“Playfulness is the motif of this entertaining novel. Reading it, I couldn't help but think of Kill Bill, Quentin Tarantino's vastly referential exercise in homage - a breathless blink-and-you-miss-it
amalgamation of all his favourite movie moments” - Business Standard
“The best thing about The Simoqin Prophecies though, is undoubtedly the manner in which it straddles (without ever really crossing) the line between being an entertaining fantasy novel and a tender satire
on the genre” – Dawn
“Basu weaves an intriguing tale, full of mystery and suspense, with generous doses of humour and also does a brilliant job of inventing fabulous (and grotesque) creatures.” – The Telegraph
Get The Simoqin Prophecies at your Kindle store in the US, or in the UK, or at your local Kindle store with a search!
The Manticore’s Secret
Being a Hero isn’t easy—but it’s a lot easier than being a Dark Lord.
Dark forces just aren’t what they used to be in the good old days.
The Manticore’s Secret is the spellbinding sequel to The Simoqin Prophecies. Once again Samit Basu creates a mesmeric landscape bursting with weird and wonderful characters and a gripping narrative that’s complex, playful, sometimes sombre but always dazzlingly inventive.
A mysterious Dark Lord and his grotesque army threaten all that is good on earth… or do they? The heroic immortals who vanquished his rakshas father long ago have returned to do battle with the forces of evil, which is good news… or is it?
In the shadows a secret society of shapeshifters battles deadly mind-controlling foes who threaten history, humanity and the future of the planet. A beautiful, amoral rakshasi plots world domination while a strangely civilized barbarian fights to save the world.
But the world is spinning out of control. Because the gods are back. And they want to play…
Reviews:
“Wildly imaginative, thoroughly enjoyable” – TimeOut
“I was blown away by how cinematic some of the passages were… an awesome imagination”- Jabberwock
Get The Manticore’s Secret at your Kindle store in the US, or in the UK, or at your local Kindle store with a search!
The Unwaba Revelations
Under the all-seeing eyes of the assembled gods, armies are on the move. The Game has begun. And when it ends, the world will end too . . .
In The Unwaba Revelations, the third and concluding part of the GameWorld trilogy, a way must be found to save the world; to defeat the gods at their own game. A daunting prospect under any circumstances, made worse by the fact that the gods, who control all the heroes, are blatantly cheating by following only one rule—that they cannot be defeated by their own creations.
As epic battles ravage the earth, Kirin and Maya, guided only by an old, eccentric and extremely unreliable chameleon, and egged on by the usual rag-tag gang, carry out their secret plan; a plan so secret that, in fact, no one involved has any idea what they are doing!
Monsters, mayhem, mud-swamps; conspiracies, catastrophes, chimeras;
betrayals, buccaneers, bloodshed—The Unwaba Revelations continues the roller coaster journey that began with The Simoqin Prophecies and gathered momentum with The Manticore’s Secret. Traversing earth, sea and sky, realms both infernal and celestial, worlds both imagined and material, this book will draw you irresistibly into a tantalizing, action-packed, epic race to reclaim the flawed, magical world of its heroes.
Reviews:
“Post-modern, post-racist, disrespectful, assured” - Outlook
“A romp… unveiling feats of such daring that readers are left gasping for more.” – The Hindu
“A delicious read” - Mint
Get The Unwaba Revelations at your Kindle store in the US, or in the UK, or at your local Kindle store with a search!
TURBULENCE
Currently being adapted by a Hollywood/Bollywood producer alliance to become a streaming show, the superheroes-in-India novel TURBULENCE was a critically acclaimed bestseller in India and Samit Basu’s first US/UK published novel, released to rave reviews, awards, and several book-of-the-year mentions in leading genre publications in the US and the UK.
Turbulence
Aman Sen is smart, young, ambitious and going nowhere. He think
s this is because he doesn’t have the right connections but then he gets off a plane from London to Delhi and discovers that he has turned into a communications demigod.
Indeed, everyone on Aman’s flight now has extraordinary abilities corresponding to their innermost desires. Vir, an Air Force pilot, can now fly. Uzma, an aspiring Bollywood actress, now possesses infinite charisma. And then there's Jai, an indestructible one-man army with a good old-fashioned goal to rule the world.
Aman wants to ensure that their new powers aren't wasted on costumed crime-fighting, celebrity endorsements, or reality television. He wants to heal the planet but with each step he takes, he finds helping some means harming others. Will it all end, as 80 years of superhero fiction suggest, in a meaningless, explosive slugfest?
Turbulence features the 21st-century Indian subcontinent in all its insane glory: F-16s, Bollywood, radical religious parties, nuclear plants, cricket, terrorists, luxury resorts, crazy TV shows, but it is essentially about two very human questions.