Sorkari Patnaik was having yet another bad day. It was almost impossible for him to have a bad day, usually. His word was law in Balangir and beyond. Even traffic left the streets when he wanted. But ever since that lathi charge he had ordered, things had not gone well for him at all. Every day some higher-up was calling from the east. ‘Patnaik, is everything under control?’ ‘Patnaik, I heard there is curfew in Balangir, what is going on?’ Not a word of praise in all these years when Balangir had been quiet, but a few bruised Gonds and Patnaik was to be on his toes.

Also, since he got a severe lecture from the Important Person, his wife had started asking him again why he didn’t take a transfer to Jajpur, in the east. She had family there, and it was a quiet place, and there wouldn’t be any Gonds or other tribals and he wouldn’t be lectured by his bosses.

Patnaik could not explain why Balangir was important for him. The timber smugglers, the businessmen, the companies, they all relied on him. In Jajpur nobody would bother to bribe him, and then what would he be? Poor, that’s what.

But also, and this was the key: here in Balangir Patnaik was important. He could walk into a tribal village and the people, even the babies, would stand up and salute. He was the Law here. In Jajpur he would be a nobody. And if he wanted to remain in Balangir, he had to show the Gonds of Deogan what power actually was.

Also, he had to make everyone happy, which included the Collector, who had taken to hiding in his office from the summer heat. Which is why Sorkari Patnaik was sitting in the biggest oven on wheels in Balangir district—his car—under a blazing sun, on the road to Deogan, talking to this strange bearded man. It was evening, but the heat radiated up from the ground.

Small streams of sweat ran down Patnaik’s temple, over his cheeks and down his neck. Occasionally he wiped his face with a small saffron towel. The rains were late, and it was humid like never before. Collector Behera had officially declared the district drought-hit, and the farmers were being given help by the district administration. Except the Gond villages, which were not drought-hit. Patnaik was happy when he heard that. The Gonds thought they could fight the government. There was no harm in that. Anybody could fight the government if they wanted to.

But nobody could ever win against the government.

Patnaik looked at the bearded man. This Ghosh, the Important Person had called to tell the police officer, was special. The Company had brought him in all the way from some foreign country. Ghosh was extremely powerful, and very clever, and would solve the problem. Just help him in any way he wants, Patnaik was told.