'Yes!' He came toward her, his eyes bright. 'You should see them, Bati! So beautiful! So willing! Please come with me and look at them! You'll know then that it is the will of Kali!'
A refusal rose immediately to Kolabati's lips, yet did not pass them. The thought of seeing a nest of rakoshi here in America at once repulsed and fascinated her. Kusum must have sensed her uncertainty, for he pressed on:
'They are our birthright! Our heritage! To turn away from them is to turn your back on your past!'
Kolabati wavered. After all, she did wear the necklace. And she was one of the last two remaining Keepers. In a way she owed it to herself and her family to at least go and see them.
'All right,' she said slowly. 'I'll come see them with you. But only once.'
'Wonderful!' Kusum seemed elated. 'It will be like going back in time. You'll see!'
'But that won't change my mind about killing innocent people. You must promise me that will stop.'
'We'll discuss it,' Kusum said, leading her toward the door. 'And I want to tell you about my other plans for the rakoshi—plans that do not involve what you call 'innocent' lives.'
'What?' She didn't like the sound of that.
'I'll tell you after you've seen them.'
Kusum was silent during the cab ride to the docks while Kolabati tried her best to appear as if she knew exactly where they were going. After the cab dropped them off, they walked through the dark until they were standing before a small freighter. Kusum led her around to the starboard side.
'If it were daylight you could see the name across the stem:
She heard a click from where his hand rested in his jacket pocket. With a whir and a hum, the gangplank began to lower toward them. Dread and anticipation grew as she climbed. The moon was high and bright, illuminating the surface of the deck with a pale light made all the starker by the depths of the shadows it cast.
He stopped at the aft end of the second hatch and knelt by a belowdecks entry port.
'They're in the hold below,' he said as he pulled up the hatch.
Rakoshi-stench poured out of the opening. Kolabati turned her head away. How could Kusum stand it? He didn't seem to notice the odor as he slid his feet into the port.
'Come,' he said.
She followed. A short ladder led down to a square platform nestled into a corner, high over the empty hold. Kusum hit a switch and the platform began to descend with a jerk. Startled, Kolabati grabbed Kusum's arm.
'Where are we going?'
'Down just a little way.' He pointed below with his bearded chin. 'Look.'
Kolabati squinted into the shadows, futilely at first. Then she saw their eyes. A garbled murmur arose from below. Kolabati realized that until this instant, despite all the evidence, all that Jack had told her, she’d not truly believed there could be rakoshi in New York. Yet here they were.
She shouldn't have been afraid—she was a Keeper—yet she was terrified. The closer the platform sank toward the floor of the hold, the greater her fear. Her mouth grew dry as her heart pounded against the wall of her chest.
'Stop it, Kusum!'
'Don't worry. They can't see us.'
Kolabati knew that, but it gave her no comfort.
'Stop it now! Take me back up!'
Kusum hit another button. The descent stopped. He looked at her strangely, then started the platform upward. Kolabati sagged against him, relieved to be moving away from the rakoshi but knowing she had deeply disappointed her brother.
It couldn't be helped. She’d changed. She was no longer the recently-orphaned little girl who had looked up to her older brother as the nearest thing to a god on earth, who had planned with him to find a way to bring back the rakoshi and through them restore the ruined temple to its former glory. That little girl was gone forever. She’d ventured into the world and found that life could be good outside India. She wanted to stay there.
Not so Kusum. His heart and his mind had never left those blackened ruins in the hills outside Bharangpur. There was no life for him outside India. And even in his homeland his rigid Hindu fundamentalism made him something of a stranger. He worshipped India's past. That was where he wished to live, not in the land India was striving to become.
With the belowdecks port shut and sealed behind them, Kolabati relaxed, reveling in the outside air. Whoever would have thought muggy New York City air could smell so sweet?
Kusum led her to a steel door in the forward wall of the superstructure. He opened the padlock that secured it. Inside was a short hallway and a single furnished cabin.
Kolabati sat on the cot while Kusum stood and looked at her. She kept her head down, unable to meet his eyes. Neither had said a word since leaving the hold. Kusum's air of disapproval rankled her, made her feel like an errant child, yet she could not fight it. He had a right to feel the way he did.
'I brought you here hoping to share the rest of my plans with you,' he said at last. 'I see now that was a mistake. You have lost all touch with your heritage. You would become like the millions of soulless others in this place.'
'Tell me your plans, Kusum,' she said, feeling his hurt. 'I want to hear them.'
