Pratima's Forbidden Book

Chapter 4 - Strings of Bells

Chapter 4 - Strings of Bells

William waits at the front entrance in Pilani an hour after sunrise. In the heat, many people in the streets pass the small library. Pilani is smaller in population than it was before the Collapse, but it still contains thousands. As William waits, he remembers last night’s conversation with a friend of Amina’s, Harpreet. How they spoke of technology. Both he and Amina making less eye contact than usual, neither of them wanting to dwell on the men with their swords, or Abha’s timely rescue.

Harpreet, saying over the meal, “It isn’t just in India where the level of technology’s far less than before the Collapse. Though Europeans and the American travelers say that we here survived with more infrastructure intact.”

“Yes, I hadn’t thought of that; a few trains run on steam power. Some dirigibles and balloons fly.” Amina nodded.

“Did you find those things elsewhere in your studies?” William pointed out, “In most of the world, water power’s the fastest way to travel. Occasionally wooden ships sail all the way to Europe. And the Americas. Carrying news back and forth.” They all agreed by the meal’s end that wind power isn’t fast, but it’s the best they had right now.

On the library steps, William thinks further on this subject, noting that clocks and even some watches exist for keeping time. The local library possesses a fine clock with metal gears. Not everyone owns timepieces, but not everyone needs to. If the right people in a town have clocks, then daily business can remain well regulated. And by the number of people streaming by, it seems that that is in fact happening.

As the day brightens, William finally catches Pratima coming up the cracked pavement road, dressed in a blue sari. In Hindi style, her appearance strikes him differently than yesterday. The Librarian had planned that Pratima take a trip, so William's pleased that she carries two satchels. Good. She appears prepared for anything.

“Welcome,” William greets. “Are you ready to meet the Librarian, Pratima?”

“Let me set my bags down. And I will be.”

William takes them from her, eager to usher her indoors. “I’ll show you to the room you’re assigned during your stay,” William responds. “I’ll set your bags there.”

William leads her down the left hallway to a small room. No solid door, only curtains separating it from the hallway. It contains a small bed, chair, and a narrow window, open to what outside air can filter in.

William shows Pratima the strings of bells. “You can hang these in the doorway so that you hear anyone entering,” William explains, showing her the string on a red cord. “I’ll leave you to settle in. Join us in the meeting room, just down the hall to your right, past the statue of Ganesh once you are settled.”

When Pratima enters the meeting, after a timid knock, the three others stop their conversation, waiting for William's introduction.

“Pratima, I would like you to meet. Smita Paliwal, the Librarian of Rajasthan,” William waves his arm between their guest and the grey-haired, distinguished woman. William remembers the stories, She was an infant when the Collapse happened. The lines in Smita’s face testify to the challenges and horrors she’d lived through.

“I am so glad to meet you at last,” The Librarian greets her.

“Thank you,” Pratima responds. And it’s for someone else to speak next.

William looks around to all, and mentions, “We thank you for accepting our invitation to join our work.”

Abha adds, “I hope I will live up to the honor.”

“And this is Abha Chauhan,” William introduces his mentor. Abha stands straighter. “Our Library Scout.” Pratima offers another small bow and gestures Namaste.

Then returns her attention to the Librarian, again not speaking for a moment.

“Pratima,” Librarian Paliwal addresses her. “Have you been able to find anything about our mystery book page?”

“Your suspicion is correct.” Pratima offers, “The people studying this text, in my opinion, were working on isolating isotopes of Uranium 235. This page is from a book titled Oxidation-reduction Reactions in Inorganic Chemistry by Eric Randolph Jette, which was published in 1927.” Pratima lays the piece of paper on the desk.

William watches the glances exchanged as the Librarian and the scout discuss this. He suspects the news concerns them, but doesn’t know the exact science involved.

Both wear guarded expressions. Pratima simply waits for the next question.

“So, is it likely,” Scout Abha's voice comes slow and measured, “they’re working on a bomb?”

“They must be. You only use this information if you’re working on producing an atomic explosive device,” Pratima says.

When the scout nods as though encouraging her to continue, William interjects, “Surely, that can only be a guess.”

“No.” She continues, Pratima starts, while not making eye contact. “Thermal diffusion was an early technique used to separate isotopes of uranium 235 from the more common uranium 238.” At this, she taps at something on the page. But does not show it to her listeners.

“Any idea what type of weapon it might be?” the Paliwal Librarian asks.

The other three look at her with their full attention. “Based on the type of isotope isolation being researched, I would say they will produce the most technologically primitive type of explosive.”

The librarian’s face reflects the horror at this all, but Pratima remains silent.

“The bullet method was used for the first weapons produced in the twentieth century. You know of bullets. Yes?” Pratima continues to the quick nods of the others. “Two separate piles of uranium, positioned in a tube. One fired at high speed at the other. Under the right conditions, a super-critical reaction can begin, which can cause what our forefathers called an atomic explosion. The device’s explosion dropped by the Old United States on Hiroshima in 1945 was equivalent to 16,000 tons of TNT.”

“How much,” the scout asks, “correct type of uranium will they need to produce?”

“The records say that Hiroshima was destroyed from 600 milligrams of uranium,” her words come like a dirge. The others respond with stunned silence. William cups his hand, looking into his palm, thinking, that could fit here!

Librarian Paliwal recovers first. “I have sent a preliminary warning to the royal court at Delhi. But I will want you to travel to Delhi to report on what you know, in person.”

“Yes, Librarian, I will do it,” Pratima agrees. “When should we make the trip?”

“I think next week will be fine,” the Librarian answers. “This week I’d like you to have protocol lessons with others—to help you become comfortable in your new role as library staff.”

~~~

William paces in front of Pratima and Amina. “Although this orientation info may feel dry and unnecessary, you two may well be the voice of the Library. We will go through this quickly, but this is information you must know.”

Although it is high summer, the lofty rooms keep the heat above where they stand. William’s glad that all he has to impart; they will not feel discommoded.

“The Libraries were created by contract with world leaders. To protect human knowledge. To restrict access to certain information.” Pride swells his chest, being able to share his knowledge.

His students listen with interest.

“We travel to various provinces. Regions centered around a large Library appoint Librarians.” He continues, “To coordinate library business in those regions.”

“When the collapse first occurred, there was a great deal of violence, turmoil.” William describes. Amina’s expression reacts to this. But Pratima’s seem a bit more stoic.

“Some other unexpected post-Collapse outcomes have been the preponderance of balanced political rule along with female empowerment.”

Pratima raises a hand at that and offers a bit of historical input, “Several key leaders in that chaotic time were women. Who fought to protect their families, Who determined that their daughters along with others' daughters would be able to continue to protect the future.”

“Yes, from those shortsighted policies. Informally most communities in India hold to a standard education of girls at the same level as boys. Well done, Pratima.”