He laughed. "No weapons."
"So ... not as a soldier, then. Do you type? I know you can read, so I assume you can handle record keeping on our military computers."
"Military?" he asked.
"We're a nation at war," she said simply.
"But I'm not a soldier of any kind," said Chapekar.
"Too bad."
"I'm a governor."
"The Indian people are doing an excellent job of governing themselves right now. What they need are soldiers to drive out their oppressors."
"But you have government right here. Your aides, who tell people what to do. The one who covered me with dirt."
"They help people. They don't govern them. They give advice."
"And this is how you rule all of India?"
"I sometimes make suggestions, and my aides put the vid out over the nets," said Virlomi. "Then the people decide whether to obey me or not."
"You can reject government now," said Chapekar. "But someday you'll need it."
Virlomi shook her head. "I will never need government. Perhaps someday India will choose to have a government, but I will never need it."
"So you wouldn't stop me from urging exactly that course. On the nets."
She smiled. "Whoever comes to your site, let them agree or disagree with you as they see fit."
"I think you're making a mistake," said Chapekar.
"Ah," said Virlomi. "And you find this frustrating?"
"India needs better than a lone woman in a hut."
"And yet this lone woman in a hut held up the Chinese Army in the passes of the east, long enough for the Muslims to have their victory. And this lone woman led the guerrilla war and the riots against the Muslim occupiers. And this lone woman brought the Caliph from Damascus to Hyderabad in order to seize control of his own army, which was committing atrocities against India."
"And you're very proud of your achievements."
"I'm pleased that the gods saw fit to give me something useful to do. I've offered you something useful, too, but you refuse."
"You've offered me humiliation and futility." He stood to go.
"Exactly the gifts I once had from your hand."
He turned back to her. "Have we met?"
"Have you forgotten? You once came to see the Battle School graduates who were planning your strategy. But you discarded all our plans. You despised them, and followed instead the plans of the traitor Achilles."
"I saw all your plans."
"No, you saw only the plans Achilles wanted you to see."
"Was that my fault? I thought they were from you."
"I foresaw the fall of India as Achilles's plans overextended our armies and exposed our supply lines to attack from China. I foresaw that you would do nothing except futile rhetoric—like the monstrous act of appointing Wahabi as ruler of India—as if the rule of India were yours to bequeath to another in your will. I saw—we all saw—how useless and vain and stupid you were in your ambition, and how easily Achilles manipulated you by flattery."
"I don't have to listen to this."
"Then go," said Virlomi. "I say nothing that doesn't play over and over again in the secret places in your heart."
He did not go.
"After I left, to notify the Hegemon of what was happening, so that perhaps my friends from Battle School could be saved from Achilles's plan to murder them all—when that errand was done, I set up resistance to Chinese rule in the mountains of the East. But back in Battle School, led by a brilliant and brave and beautiful young man named Sayagi, the Battle Schoolers drew up plans that would have saved India, if you had followed them. At risk of their own lives, they published it on the nets, knowing that Achilles would let none of it get to you if they submitted it through him. Did you see the plans?"
"I was not in the habit of getting my war plans from the nets."
"No. You got your plans from our enemy."
"I didn't know that."
"You should have known. It was plain enough what Achilles was. You saw what we saw. The difference is, we hated him, and you admired him—for exactly the same traits."
"I never saw the plans."
"You never asked the most brilliant minds in India for a shred of advice. Instead, you trusted a Belgian psychopath. And followed his advice to make unprovoked war on Burma and Thailand, pouring out war on nations that had done no harm to us. A man who embraces the voice of evil when it whispers in his ear is no less evil than the whisperer."
"I'm not impressed by your ability to coin aphorisms."
"Sayagi defied Achilles to his face, and Achilles shot him dead."
"Then he was foolish to do it."
"Dead as he is, Sayagi has more value to India than you have ever had or will ever have in all the days of your life."
"I'm sorry he's dead. But I'm not dead."
"You're mistaken. Sayagi lives on in the spirit of India. But you are dead, Tikal Chapekar. You are as dead as a man can be, and still breathe."
"So now it comes to threats."
"I asked my aides to bring you to me so I could help you understand what will now happen to you. There is nothing for you in India. Sooner or later you will leave and make a life for yourself somewhere else."
"I will never leave."
"Only on the day you leave will you begin to understand Satyagraha."
"Peaceful noncompliance?"
"Willingness to suffer, yourself and in person, for a cause you believe is right. Only when you are willing to embrace Satyagraha will you begin to atone for what you have done to India. Now you should go."
Chapekar did not realize anyone had been listening. He might have stayed to argue, but the moment she said those words, a man came into the hut and drew him out.
He had thought they would let him go, but they didn't, not until they led him into the town and sat him down in the back room of a small office and brought up a notice on the nets.
It was his own picture. A short vid taken as the young man tossed dirt onto him.
"Tikal Chapekar is back," said a voice.
The picture changed to show Chapekar in his glory days. Brief clips and stills.
"Tikal Chapekar brought war to India by attacking Burma and Thailand without any provocation, all to try to make himself a great man."
Now there were pictures of Indian victims of atrocities. "Instead, he was taken captive by the Chinese. He wasn't here to help us in our hour of need."
The picture of him with dirt being flung on him returned to the screen.
"Now he's back from captivity, and he wants to rule over India."
A picture of Chapekar talking cheerfully with the Muslim guards outside the gates of the compound. "He wants to help our Muslim overlords rule over us forever."
Again with the dirt-flinging.
"How can we rid ourselves of this man? Let us all pretend he doesn't exist. If no one speaks to him, waits on him, shelters him, feeds him, or helps him in any way, he will have to turn to the foreigners he invited into our land."
That was when they ran the footage of Chapekar turning the government of India over to Wahabi.
"Even in defeat, he invited evil upon us. But India will not punish him. India will simply ignore him until he goes away."
The program ended—with, of course, the dirt-flinging picture.
"Clever setup," said Chapekar.
They ignored him.
"What do you want from me, so you won't publish that piece of trash?"
They ignored him.
After a while, he began to rage, and tried to fling the computer to the ground. That was when they restrained him and put him out of doors.
Chapekar walked down the street, looking for lodging. There were houses with rooms to rent. They opened the door when he called out, but when they saw his face, they closed the doors again.