"Every week there's been a 48% rise in complaints. At this rate, we'll go under in no time." He paused. "Where are we with the systems check, Sakib?"
Sakib was middle-aged, but still looked like a young film star. Rumours abounded that the brilliant scientist occasionally nipped into the baby section to concoct rejuvenating potions. There was a nervous twitch above his left eye now as he replied.
"We're strip-checking. There's no other way. So far, zilch."
"And how long is it expected to take?"
"Can't say." Sakib shrugged. "There are sixty thousand odd pieces that need to be tested. Manually. We're still at double-digits, seventy two at last count."
Javed became aware that he was sweating. He flicked his tongue over his lips, the taste of salt hit his tongue making him cringe a little.
"OK, speed it up, I don’t care how. We've simply got to move faster."
The meeting was brief and gloomy. As the team dispersed, Javed signalled to Sakib to stay behind.
"Sakib, this is serious."
"I know."
"We have to do something before it hits the news"
"I'm trying, Javed. So far, there hasn't been a single pattern that we've been able to identify."
"Do you know exactly when the first complaints began?"
"First incidence was reported in June of last year. It's been a steady trickle ever since."
"Hmm." Javed tapped the table, a billion thoughts whizzing through his impatient mind.
"We introduced Model N-710 of The Nanny in April. No configuration changes after that." Javed didn't need the reminder. They had been through this half a dozen times.
"Anything with the birth rates?"
Sakib moved his fingers over the screens, and a dozen graphs filled the room.
"Nothing. Normal distribution pattern."
Javed began pacing up and down, his brow furrowed. "We're clutching at straws. There has to be some way to stop this thing from getting out of hand." He halted and turned to Sakib, fear germinating in his eyes. "We're this close to getting wiped out - this close!" His thumb and forefinger almost touched.
The strikingly similar portrait of Mallick Jagir, his grandfather, watched them with interest. When Mallick Jagir had returned from foreign shores to Indrapur more than a century ago, he brought a suitcase of revolution with him.
