Shadow of the giant

for an ordinary
citizen—if any Muslim soldiers should be so bold as to search the train. But
the people knew who she was. Whose face was better known in all of India? And
not being Muslim, she didn't have to cover her face.
    The first thing I will do, when I rule India, is change the
name of Hyderabad. Not back to Bhagnagar—even though it was named for an Indian
woman, the name was bestowed by the Muslim prince who destroyed the original
Indian village in order to build the Charminar, a monument to his own power,
supposedly in honor of his beloved Hindu wife.
    India will never again be obliterated in order to appease
the power lust of Muslims. The new name of Hyderabad will be the original name
of the village: Chichlam.
    She made her way from the train station to a safe house in
the city, and from there her aides helped get her back inside the hut where she
had supposedly been meditating and praying for India for the three days she had
been gone. There she slept for a few hours.
    Then she arose and sent an aide to bring her an elegant but
simple sari, one that she knew she could wear with grace and beauty, and which
would show off her slim body to best advantage. When she had it arranged to her
satisfaction, and her hair was arranged properly, she walked from her hut to
the gate of Hyderabad.
    The soldiers at the checkpoint gawped at her. No one had
ever expected her to try to enter, and they had no idea what to do.
    While they went through their flurry of asking their
superiors inside the city what they should do, Virlomi simply walked inside.
They dared not stop her or challenge her—they didn't want to be responsible for
starting a war.
    She knew this place as well as anyone, and knew which
building housed Caliph Alai's headquarters. Though she walked gracefully, without
hurry, it took little time for her to get there.
    Again, she paid no attention to guards or clerks or
secretaries or important Muslim officers. They were nothing to her. By now they
must have heard Alai's decision; and his decision was obviously to let her
pass, for no one obstructed her.
    Wise choice.
    One young officer even trotted along ahead of her, opening
doors and indicating which way she should go.
    He led her into a large room where Alai stood waiting for
her, with a dozen high officers standing along the walls.
    She walked to the middle of the room. "Why are you
afraid of one lone woman, Caliph Alai?"
    Before he had time to answer the obvious truth—that far from
being afraid, he had let her pass unmolested and uninspected through his
headquarters complex and into his own presence—Virlomi began to unwrap her
sari. It took only a moment or two before she stood naked before him. Then she
reached up and loosened her long hair, and then swung it and combed her fingers
through it. "You see that I have no weapon hidden here. India stands
before you, naked and defenseless. Why do you fear her?"
    Alai had averted his eyes as soon as it became clear that
she was undressing. So had the more pious of the other officers. But some
apparently thought it was their responsibility to make sure that she was, in
fact, weaponless. She enjoyed their consternation, their embarrassment— and,
she suspected, their desire. You came here to ravish India, didn't you? And yet
I am out of your reach. Because I'm not here for you, underlings. I'm here for
your master.
    "Leave us," Alai said to the other men.
    Even the most modest of them could not help but glance at
her as they shuffled out of the room, leaving the two of them alone.
    The door closed behind them. She and Alai were alone.
    "Very symbolic, Virlomi," said Alai, still
refusing to look at her. "That will get talked about."
    "The offer I make is both symbolic and tangible,"
she said. "This upstart Peter Wiggin has gone as far as he should go. Why
should Muslim and Hindu be enemies, when together we have the power to crush
his naked ambition?"
    "His ambition isn't as naked as you are," said
Alai. "Please put on clothing so I can look at you."
    "May not a man look at his bride?"
    Alai chuckled. "A dynastic marriage? I thought you
already told Han Tzu what he could do with that idea."
    "Han Tzu had nothing to offer me. You are the leader of
the Muslims of India. A large portion of my people torn away from mother India
in fruitless hostility. And why? Look at me, Alai."
    Either the force of her voice had power over him, or he
could not resist his desire, or perhaps he simply decided that since they