Ghosh was speaking as if he was reciting from memory or giving an answer to a mathematical problem. Solution to tribal protests: accuse the leaders of being in touch with militants and arrest them. But Patnaik did not think much of this idea.

‘How will that help? They will all come out of jail. There will be no proof.’

‘Of course they will come out. That is not the point. The point is image.’

‘Image?’

‘See, right now, people in places like Bhubaneshwar and Delhi, people who read these newspapers and post things on social media are supporting these villagers. Why? Because these villagers are the good guys. Innocent people who were sitting at home till the government and the Company came here and tried to kick them out. But what happens when these innocent villagers are shown to be working with the terrible Maoists, militants who want to destroy the country?’

‘People won’t like that,’ said Patnaik.

‘Of course they won’t. So the villagers will lose their image of being innocent and good, whether or not they are actually in touch with militants.’

‘They are not.’

‘It doesn’t matter whether they are actually in touch with militants or not. What matters is image. So, that is what you will do. Arrest all the leaders. Then we will get some people to write in newspapers that these innocent villagers are perhaps not so innocent. That is how you change public opinion. Not by beating people up. That is the old way.’

Patnaik thought it was a little harsh, this strange bearded fellow insulting him inside his own official car and telling him how to do his work, but didn’t say anything. His safest option right now was to follow everything he was told.

‘You know how much bauxite is under those hills, Patnaik?’

The police officer had seen the report, but didn’t remember the number, and didn’t know much about mining anyway. So Ghosh told him.

‘It is going to be a huge mine. One of the biggest the Company has ever had in this part of the country. Your district is going to change forever.’

Ghosh turned to look at Patnaik.

‘Nothing is going to stop it. The Company never loses, you know.’

Patnaik was thinking exactly the same thing about the government.

Two small figures were walking across the bridge towards them. Three, actually. A boy, a girl and a goat. On reaching the end of the bridge, the goat went off the road and started nibbling at the dry grass nearby.

Ghosh stared through the windshield at the two children on the other side of the road.

‘That’s interesting,’ he said.

‘What is?’

‘Those two. That girl must be the DFO’s daughter.’

Patnaik was actually amazed. Was there nothing this man didn’t know? He wondered whether Ghosh knew about his son. But he had to ask.

‘How do you know?’