Tokyo Cancelled. Rana Dasgupta

Cloning now Possible.’

      ‘Madam, can we start from the beginning? Name and the date of travel?’

      ‘It’s datelined Cambridge, England. I’ll start from the beginning. A group of scientists at Bios Laboratories Ltd today announced they had produced an eight-cell gorilla foetus that would, had it been implanted in a mother gorilla, have given rise to a normal pregnancy and infant. The scientists destroyed the foetus, saying that their objectives were simply to confirm a number of theoretical and technical hypotheses, not to create quote public curiosities–blah blah blah…’

      ‘Last Thursday. Flight 162. Name is Laurie Kurt.’

      ‘OK, this is the bit: Dr Stephen Hall, the Technical Director at Bios Laboratories, said that the experiment showed how far the science had come.’

      ‘Let me just find that on the system for you. Hope you made it to the dinner in the end, after they’d come so far?’

      ‘In the end. Thank God. They were venture capitalists from France who were looking to put money into my company. It was the only time in four months we all had spare diary time. Can you believe that?’

      ‘I’m going crazy listening to this small talk. If this guy wants to chat he can do it in his spare time. He’s supposed to do one call every two minutes. What’s his average? Check it.’

      Somewhere in California a police siren swelled, Dopplered, and faded.

      ‘Rajiv? Are you listening? “A few years ago these eight cells would have been on the cover of Time magazine and people would have been saying that this has turned our idea of nature on its head.”’

      ‘We’ve got this amazing technology, it’s going to turn the lives of three hundred million Americans literally upside-down–and I’m sitting stuck in St Louis–of all places!–missing the only time I could get with these VCs in four months.’

      ‘“Now we have well-established techniques for doing this kind of thing, and can achieve our objectives with a high degree of predictability–and no one is really surprised anymore.”’

      ‘He’s making eighteen calls an hour, sir.’

      ‘Then why is he still here?–Mira, hang on a minute–That’s not how you were briefed. If he’s not doing his job, fire him. That’s what you’re here for!’

      ‘You can imagine how I felt–’

      ‘Otherwise I’ll fire you.’

      ‘When asked what this meant for the future of human cloning, Hall was unequivocal. “It’s going to happen. We could do it now. And someone will do it. One thing that history has taught us is that human curiosity never sleeps, no matter what obstacles the doomsayers try to put in its way.”’

      ‘Mira, please!’

      ‘–this was possibly the most important moment of my life–’

      ‘Oh, Rajiv–you’re on television! Can you hear?’

      Rajiv’s microphoned voice crackled through his mobile phone.

      ‘India’s new wealth will come not from any natural resource but from an entirely fortuitous fact: its one billion people slap bang on the opposite side of the world from America.’

      ‘–they told me I would change the future–’

      ‘A billion people awake while America’s three hundred million sleep. Awake in their droves, ten and a half time zones from New York, thirteen and a half from San Francisco.’

      ‘He’s been on this call for four and a half minutes already.’

      ‘You look so nice. Nice smile. And people are applauding.’

      ‘In the electronic age it doesn’t matter where anyone is anymore.’

      ‘Is anyone apart from me remotely conscious of the value of time, for God’s sake?’

      ‘And Indians can fit in a whole day of work between the time that Americans swipe out in the evening and the time they set their double mocha down on their desk the next morning. It’s an unbeatable formula.’

      ‘Kurt, Laurie–I have it.’

      ‘Thanks to us, the sun need never set on the American working day.’

      ‘OK, I have that delayed flight on my screen here. And the other ticket you purchased. American Airlines. Paid for at 2.24 p.m. Central Time last Thursday. We’re very sorry for the delay and the inconvenience.’

      ‘India’s new asset is its time zone. Indian Standard Time is its new pepper, its new steel!’

      ‘We’ll credit one thousand eight hundred fifteen dollars and forty-seven cents to the American Express card you paid with.’

      ‘That’s the end of that news item. But you did look nice.’

      ‘Thank you very much. You have an accent. Where are you from?’

      ‘He’s out of here.’

      ‘I’m from India.’

      ‘Now listen. Protesters–cloning–undermining society–yes: “These technologies mean dramatic new possibilities for medical therapy and for bringing children to infertile couples, and when people realize that their world view can continue unthreatened by what people like me do–and that previously incurable conditions can now be treated–they’ll stop making all this fuss.”’

      Mira’s voice began to quiver with the massage. Rajiv could hear the smack of palms on oily skin.

      ‘India! I would so love to go to India. I believe Americans have so much to learn from India. What do you think of the US?’

      ‘It goes on: Chief Executive Robert Mills confirmed that human cloning was not on the company’s agenda. “It’s illegal in this country anyway,” he said. “But the mandate we have been given by our investors is very precise: to develop a patent portfolio of world-class sheep and cattle genetic material, and the techniques to exploit that material in the global agricultural marketplace.”’

      ‘America is–fine! Great!’

      ‘Time!’

      ‘“The gorilla experiment was part of our investigation into these techniques, but Bios Laboratories will not be pursuing its work in primate production.”’

      ‘Where are you based?’

      ‘Madam, I’m getting another call. I really ought to go.’

      ‘OK. Thanks for your help.’

      ‘Time’s up? What do you mean time’s up?’

      ‘You have to make sure these people understand that there is only one thing that is important here and that’s efficiency.’

      ‘My massage is over. Can’t believe an hour is up already.’

      ‘You have to make sure they know how to avoid this kind of chitchat. And deal with that guy. This isn’t a chat line we’re running.’

      ‘So what do you think?’

      ‘I’m sorry, Mira, I’m doing something here.’

      ‘Were you listening to the article?’

      ‘Yes. In fact I know Stephen Hall. He was at Cambridge with me. We played squash.’

      ‘Don’t you see? This is our chance! We can have a child! Why don’t you go and see him?’

      ‘OK, Mira. I will.’

      A few days later, Dr Stephen Hall showed Rajiv into the living room of a large old house whose Victorian lattice windows filtered out most of the scant light of the Cambridge afternoon. They sat down on armchairs that were crowded into the tiny space left by the grand piano and outsized television that dominated