The Scientific Indian

There was a long pause. I was about to ask him to let the question go when he spoke.

"Prof - listen. Perhaps it is something to do with me not being as fancily educated as you and your lot. But no, I've never felt the need. I have always thought it to be namby-pamby-ness of a kind. No offence. It's the way we are. Just because many, many centuries ago, we were different, doesn't mean that is the best way to be. I have my life, my work, my interests. I can pleasure myself by all means whenever I seek to. We probably have it good - hardly any wars anywhere. We actively participate in farming our world. What more can you need?"

That was impressive articulation for a man who made his living designing closed-form sanitation circuits.

He, in turn, took my silence for distress and began to apologise. I cut him short.

"Come on, Roun. Have I ever grudged your honest opinions? If that's how you feel, that's that. And it's time for me to leave. I see you've sent your list. I'll drop of your items by your minder today."

In fifteen minutes, I was on the SpeedWay in my car. I didn't expect to see so many vehicles on the Way - it must be the hint of pleasant weather that peeked out from all around. As I passed the pink tiled house, I looked at its doorway. It was home to a known Socialism promoter and always had a big banner with a one-liner, just like the churches used to put out on Sundays.

Today, it read:
"Be sensitive. Not touch sensitive."

In reading that, I almost missed the yellow light that had begun to blink on both my dashboard as well as on the traffic signage ahead. I slowed down immediately, hoping that whoever was in that accident was safe.

As I passed the wreck, I could see a girl, perhaps as young as Nina, a little dazed, probably a cut on her forehead. Like the others who drove past, naturally I didn't stop. I could already hear sirens. The robot minders of the Health Board would take much better care of her. Even if I did stop, what would I do? The thought of having to touch her evoked a familiar nausea. The minders were specialized and would do a clinically better job, I reminded myself.

I drove into the supermarket bay, just five minutes late. The others in my slot had already driven in. I clocked in and went looking for oranges.

After completing my shopping (and Roun's), I got home. I had an appointment with a research assistant, but he was not in yet. So, I went to the grass park behind my study after carefully checking no one was around. Strictly speaking, I had no business being there because children had use of the place till late afternoon. Adults could be expected to keep their distance if they accidentally over-strayed into each other's personal radius. However, children, lovely, impetuous things that they were, were still being inducted into the ways of our world, and the Great Taboo was just a couple of big words for them, not the basis of a civilisation.

I waved to the sweeper camera via which Carlito the guard would be watching from his office. He was tolerant of my wanderings and would give me a warning beep as soon as the next child and its minder were anywhere in the vicinity.

I was trying to escape many things: my neck's pain that was aggravated by the stress of my mind that was in turn sparked off by my last conversation with Nina. My mind sometimes strayed into wondering if I had made the right decision five years ago to find out the whereabouts of my only child. The minders of the Board had done a fine job as statutorily mandated. I guessed that my request was granted with greater smoothness than the average citizenís; largely because I was well-known in the world, but also, I suspected, because they thought I had an objective research-oriented motive in doing so.

They thought I was taking a biopsy of our lives.

Nina was happy to meet her father, since most kids didn't usually meet either parent in their lives. Not that this changed her life in any fundamental way. I just helped her get here. Since the mother did not contact Nina, I do not know who was paired up with me to pave the way for this frail and intelligent human to be invited to join the rest of the species.

Initially, weíd speak to each other a couple of times a year, exchanging updates and interests. She was taking up spatial science, second millennia art studies, and played "Arctic Adventures" in her free time. She thought about a career in remote medicine, which was an unfashionable choice these days, with medicine being largely the domain of the minders. Her own minder, a robot named Helia, took good care of her, and Nina, like any other well-adjusted teenager, was poised to engage the rest of the world, and perhaps contribute to its farming.

In the beginning, she wasn't any more special to me than say, any of my students, whom I would usually see for a couple of years, until they graduated. But in their case, I never got to know their favourite songs or ice-cream flavours. Or how they looked forward to seeing two blackbirds cheep out in unison first thing in the morning, or it would be a boring day.

A beep rang out on my tablet as I approached the dead tree on the edge of the park. It had always been the most beautiful thing I had seen. Because it made the rest of the park greener.

But alas, Chaiim was waiting with some notes from the Council archives. I jogged back to the house.

On the screen, I could see he had a pile of notes in front of him.

"Sir, you ought to subtitle the third volume the 'Age of Mycroft'", he began.

"What's Mycroft?"

He seemed a little embarassed.

"Sir, you know this interest of mine in classic deductive literature?"

"Sherlock Holmes and Poirot and the lot?"

"Exactly. Now in the Holmes books, even though Sherlock is a celebrated detective, he concedes that his elder brother Mycroft is far more clever. Apart from being lazier, importantly, Mycroft prefers the solitude of his club where gentlemen come to escape their fellow-men, and silence is guaranteed."

"I see."

"I thought that was an apt metaphor for what human society has become."

"Interesting point. However, in Mycroft's case, am I right in saying his seclusion was completely voluntary?"

"Yes".

"Whereas, we think that the taboo mainly began as a forced reaction to one of the contagious epidemics that swept the species in that particular time-period."

He smiled. "Yes sir, I was aware that the metaphor would snap if stretched too far."

"True. But we may still have a use for it. Whatever the spark, it seems evident that generations came to favour the uses of these loose social bonds, did it not?"

We continued in this vein till lunch-time, when I decided to stop our meeting.

"We'll resume on Friday?" asked Chaiim.

"Yes." I hesitated a little before proceeding.

"Chaiim, I have a little question for you, before you go."

"Go ahead, sir."

"Do you know any Socialists? Given what we're researching and reading, do you find any sympathies with what they espouse?"

On the window sill behind him, I saw a little bird alight and cock its head towards him, as if waiting for his reply. Chaiim seemed a little flustered.

"You don't have to answer that now. But it would be good to know your views."

"Sir...", he trailed off. "Will you treat this is in the strictest of confidence?"