Chapter 70: Ivory Towers

Gabrielle

2040

There was a demonstration going on in Oxford's city centre. Normally, Gabrielle wouldn't be worried by something like that, but the taxi she was in would have to pass through it and she was concerned for the safety of Ajit, her Chief Farm Manager. Would they notice that he was Pakistani?

"Relax," said Ghazi who was also accompanying her. "Things might be getting heated over there in the Kashmir, but these guys aren't about to be lynching anyone. Look at them. They're a mixture of Muslims and Hindus. It's the war they're complaining about: not one side of the other."

Gabrielle looked more closely at the banners on display. There was a reassuring lack of factionalism. There was an apparent even-handedness about the complaints, but it was surely rare in the heated atmosphere of the last few months to find someone whose origin was in the Indian subcontinent who didn't side with either Pakistan or India. Indeed, there were plenty of good reasons to attack both parties. Neither democratically elected government had been exactly blameless, though Gabrielle suspected that in many ways they were just enacting what their respective electorates wanted them to do. The carnage in Kashmir was enough to upset anyone. Then there were the terrorist bomb attacks in Delhi, Mumbai and Lahore. And every day there was yet another story of an atrocity of one kind or another committed by Muslim, Hindu and Sikh extremists. It was sometimes difficult enough for Gabrielle to maintain the stance that it was the war rather than the warring nations that was most to blame.

Gabrielle enjoyed her business trips out of London and there were few cities as delightful as Oxford. She was looking forward to staying with Ghazi for a few days at the hotel. She just hoped the rooms were properly sound-proofed as she'd become a much more voluble lover as the years passed. Ajit was staying in his own hotel room. Gabrielle had thought about what it would be like to make love with him, but that was just never going to happen. Even if he wasn't already married with children, he'd be reluctant to compromise his working relationship with his boss. Furthermore, he probably wouldn't appreciate sex without some kind of emotional tie.

What a drag!

Gabrielle saw plenty of evidence of a more partisan attitude towards the India-Pakistan War after they'd got out of the taxi and entered the grounds of Jared Diamond House. This was where she was due to attend a set of seminars regarding some of the latest agricultural and biotechnological products. There were many posters on the office walls that publicised talks and discussions on the war. Some of the accompanying graphic images were extremely distressing, but then there was no shortage of distasteful photographs arising from the conflict. There were images of Muslim children being burnt alive, Hindu mothers being disembowelled, and naked cadavers being excavated from trenches that had been dug high up in the mountains. It was inevitable that there would be strong emotions in such a large population of British people whose origins were either India or Pakistan: especially here in Oxford. British Asians were, of course, disproportionately represented in the world of academia. No other ethnic community in the United Kingdom had invested so much effort to get ahead. And, naturally, this academic and material success attracted the wrath and envy of another community that was less well represented in university circles, but Gabrielle knew to exist in Oxford from viewing the hate graffiti sprayed on the walls alongside the railway line. Pakis Out! Death to Ragheads! Fuck Off Back to Neelum Valley! The last was an unusually well-spelled reference to the infamous biochemical atrocity that had become a byword for the excesses of modern warfare.

"I'm delighted you could make it," said Samirah, the promotional manager for Jared Diamond House's Biotech seminars. "I'm sure you'll agree that we've got some star speakers and plenty of exciting new ideas. Here are your passes."

She handed Gabrielle the name tags that they'd have to dangle over their breasts for the evening. She hesitated slightly when she saw the names associated with Gabrielle's companions.

"I hope you don't mind me asking," Samirah said in a relatively low voice. "Are your companions Indian or Pakistani? Not necessarily, of course, by birth, I hope you understand, but by ... er ... allegiance. I've been instructed to keep Indian and Pakistani nationals apart. There's been ever so much trouble in recent months."

Gabrielle understood Samirah's concern but she also knew that her response wasn't going to be very helpful. "One's Indian and the other's Pakistani," she said. "I think they would prefer not to sit apart."

"I understand," said Samirah thoughtfully while she consulted her notes. "I'll see what we can do."

Fortunately, neither Ghazi nor Ajit dressed in a way that announced their allegiance or religion and most attendees wouldn't care one way or another. There were a few other Asians, even though their presence in the agricultural profession had only begun to be widespread in recent years since agriculture once more became a prosperous industry and was attracting those who in an earlier generation might have been attracted to a career in financial services. Like Ghazi, most dressed no differently to any other British citizen irrespective of ethnicity, but there were some who openly paraded their sympathies. A group of Asian men and women with a prominent tilaka on their forehead sat on one side of the lecture theatre while on the other side were bearded men adorned in loose traditional clothing. They sat as far from each other as was possible.

Gabrielle was grateful during the seminar that she'd studied Chemistry and Biology as part of her degree in Agriculture and Farm Management. She might not be as comfortable as Ajit with the polysyllabic names and she was sure that without the aid of the photographs and slides she would have lost the thread of the discussion, but she was equally sure that many of the others were totally blinded by science. The bullet points that most visibly awakened their attention were phrased in terms of profit, investment opportunities and the bottom line. They may have been less concerned than Gabrielle and certainly Ajit about the less prominently highlighted caveats regarding mutation, disease-resistance and unproven side-effects.

Ghazi was obviously bored by the seminars and Gabrielle could see his eyes wander about the room. He was clearly attracted to Samirah who, despite her Islamic name, was certainly not Pakistani and was so pale-skinned that she may well have had no connection whatsoever to North Africa or the Middle East. He also had his eyes on an Asian man on the Pakistani side of the room who was surrounded by farmers of a more traditional English aspect that were so obese that even Ghazi would have hesitated to fuck them. Gabrielle knew that Ghazi had a true connoisseur's nose for those men most likely to find him attractive and who'd be game for a fuck. Gabrielle wondered whether this young Asian would be sharing their hotel room tonight.