Chapter 22

We were talking about Monsanto and their disastrous genetically modified soya, and once again, Davinder was getting riled up. “When the time comes, the rulers of the world won’t need a gun to get usdown to our knees.” He looked at his beer but didn’t pick it up. He hadn’t stepped out for a cigaretteall evening either. “They’ll own all the crops. They’ll have a fucking copyright on our food. And when they say, ‘This is what you get, son,’ then that’s what we’ll get and nothing more.”

That sounded very grim. “So what do you suggest? I think we’re a little past boycotts now.”

“That’s just it. Don’t you see? We have to learn to live independently. To become self-sufficient.”

“You really do make some good points,” I said, getting up. I went to my computer and clicked on my favorite playlist. I came back and sat next to him again, but this time I made sure I was almost touchinghim.

“I love this song.” Davinder leaned back in the seat, finally talked out. “Radiohead, right?”