She, dalit Ana Devi, an orphan street kid with no education, little money and few prospects, had been selected by an alien race known as the Serene to act as a representative, along with thousands of other people from around the world…
She had even stood up in the vast gathering of the representatives and found herself asking a question. Later, one to one with a golden being, she had asked further questions, and found out much more.
For one or two days every month, she would be called upon to travel the world and liaise with those working for change; before then, however, the Serene had given her a specific task to accomplish.
Everything had changed now; nothing would ever be the same. She thought of the people who had made her life a misery, starting with the low-lifes like Sanjeev Varnaputtram and Kevi Nan, then the various station workers and the corrupt policemen, right up to the scheming, greedy politicians… No longer would they be able to wield their power, backed by the threat of violence, that had made her life, and those of many others, a living hell for so long. The rich had a shock coming; the poor could anticipate poverty no longer.
She wondered what her friends might have to say when she told them that she was taking them away from the station and the hazardous, hand-to-mouth existence they had become accustomed to for years?
The goods yard was quiet, the silence broken only by the distant, familiar cannonade of dull successive clankings as engines buffered wagons together on the far side of the yard. She had often been awoken at dawn by the noise; she wondered if she would miss it.
She came to the wagon that doubled as the station kids’ bedroom. She stood on the cracked wheel below the sliding door, reached up and hauled it open. A gap of six inches allowed a shaft of sunlight to fall across perhaps twenty sleepy children, squirming like piglets and calling out in feeble protest at being woken.
Someone looked up, saw her and cried out, “Ana! It’s Ana!”
She climbed into the wagon and hugged her friends, tearful at her reception.
“But where have you been?”
“We thought you were dead!”
“We heard you’d got away from fat Sanjeev…”
“You been gone for days!”
Everyone was wide awake now and crowding around her, eager to hear her story.
She stared around at the wide-eyed, expectant faces.
“Kevi Nan took me,” she began. “Jangar caught me and Prakesh, and Kevi Nan paid the bastard for me. He took me to fat Sanjeev and the bugger tried to fuck me.” She stared around at the circle of faces, looking for Prakesh.
“Dalki told us you’d got away,” a tall boy called Gopal said. “He said you flew through the window and lost yourself on the crowds on Moulana Azad Road.”
“But that was two days ago, Ana. Where have you been all this time?”
“Why didn’t you come straight back to us?”
She raised a hand to silence the questions. “I got away from Sanjeev because of what the aliens, the Serene, have… have done to us, the human race.”
Danta, a six-year-old boy and the youngest of the group, held up a flattened, melted water bottle. “I put it on the chai-wallah’s brazier, Ana, and made my own spaceship!”
She smiled. The melted bottle did slightly resemble a Serene starship. She was always amazed at her friends’ imagination and ingenuity.
“No more can anyone harm us,” she said. “Sanjeev tried to hit me with a stick, but he couldn’t do it, so I jumped through the window and ran. After that I went to the park and slept in the bushes, and then…”
She stopped, staring around at the expectant faces. “And then I had a dream, and I was visited by a golden figure, someone who works for the aliens, and he told me to go to Delhi airport where a plane would take me to Africa.”
She had expected cries of “Liar!” or at least looks of disbelief, but all she saw on the faces of her friends were expressions of amazement.
She looked into their eyes, one by one. “The plane took me to the aliens’ starships high above the new city they have made in the African desert, and there I saw many other people from around the world who have been chosen to work for the Serene.”
They stared at her, comically open-mouthed. At last a little girl said, “You, Ana Devi…?”
She nodded, and was suddenly aware that she was weeping. “Me,” she said, “Ana Devi… They want me to help them bring peace and prosperity to everyone in the world.”
She dashed away her tears; she had to appear brave in front of her friends. She told them about the day or two every month when she would travel the world, working for the aliens. “But first,” she said, “the Serene asked me to do something very important. We are leaving the station,” she went on, raising her voice above the babble of excited chatter, “and travelling south to a new home.”
A tumult of questions greeted her words. Ana silenced them and said, “Gopal, what did you say?”
“But how will we leave Kolkata? We have no money!”
Anan reached into the pocket of her kameez and pulled out thirty silver tickets. “I have these,” she said. “We will leave on the eight o’clock train to Cochin, and get off at Andhra Pradesh in the middle of India.”
“Why there?” more than one child asked.
“Because that is where the Serene want us to live.”
“But how will we live?” someone else asked. “Will we steal and beg and sell lighters as we do here? And is there a big station there where we can make our home?”
Ana shook her head. “We will be given houses,” she said, “and we will work in proper, paid jobs.”
She saw flattened palms pressed to cheeks, wide astonished eyes, open mouths and many tearful eyes.
She looked around the group again; Prakesh was not among her friends.
She said, “Prakesh?”
Someone replied in a small voice, “When you got away from Sanjeev, he sent Kevi Nan for Prakesh, who was in Jangar’s office polishing his boots and cleaning his leather belt. Kevi Nan paid Jangar and took Prakesh to Sanjeev.”
Ana felt anger swell in her chest. “And he has been there ever since?”
Everyone nodded.
She thought about what to do, then said, “We cannot go without Prakesh, so together we will go to Sanjeev’s and free him! Do not be afraid. Remember, fat Sanjeev and his men can no longer harm us, ah-cha?”
She turned without a further word, jumped from the wagon and marched across the interlaced tracks. She paused before the iron fence, and only then looked behind her. She had expected perhaps three or four followers — but smiled when she saw that everyone, even little Danta, had crowded after her.
She led the posse through the fence, across the car park and down the warren of alleys towards fat Sanjeev’s house.
Five minutes later they came to the timber gate in the high wall. Gopal and three others had picked up a split railway tie from the goods yard, and now they used it to great effect. They battered the timber against the lock, and after three blows the gate shuddered open.
The kids surged in, led by Ana.
She ran up the overgrown path, through the open front door and into the tiled hallway.
Kevi Nan and the two big Sikhs sat crossed-legged on the floor, smoking a hookah. They looked up, surprised, when Ana appeared on the threshold, bumped forward by those behind her.
Kevi jumped to his feet, followed by the Sikhs. “What do you want?” Kevi said.
“Where is Prakesh?” Ana asked.
The Sikhs moved, stationed themselves before the door to Sanjeev’s room. Ana found Gopal and whispered, “Follow me.”
She hurried from the hallway and turned right, forcing her way through the shrubbery. They arrived at the shuttered window, and Gopal did not have to be told what to do.