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GOD of a man
Eternity Versus Eternity
“The strongest, mightiest and cruellest leave behind
a history, but intelligent, adaptive and foresighted leave behind a legacy.”
Chapter Twenty Three: Fast currents
Dated: 22nd December, 2459
Birth
is not just the beginning of a life, but also the indoctrination of an
unadulterated mind with all the superstition prevalent in the society at that
particular time. The unbiased neutrality is lost forever. Or perhaps it never
existed! There is a certain unknown that has created everything, and those who
question this belief are under the influence of another mythical unknown, the
adversary. One is forced to believe in the former for fear of repercussions and
social dissociation if one chose the other; or if one chose not to believe
either, for those who promote the former will make one look like the advocate
of the other. The choice only exists hypothetically. One’s mind is always in
control of those who source the indoctrination, hiding behind myths created by
human beings that once dwelled the earth when science was hitherto an unknown
black art, and technology non-existent. They don’t need to challenge what gives
them the unquestionable hold over the masses. Freedom exists only in word, for
everybody is a slave to the same thought!
People
living on earth look towards the sky, trying to figure out which planets, stars
and constellations govern their destiny and decide which person, thing or event
is going to do them good and which is going to do them bad. Nobody ever thinks
of stepping away from the earth and its’ family, and looking from a distance,
where the perceived associated play of heavenly bodies in an interconnected
field, appears nothing more than a disorderly spread of small balls spinning
around in circles of their own destinies. From a distance where a planet the
size of Jupiter can look tiny compared to the distance that lies between the
Earth and itself, all the big talk about a mighty star or planet affecting the
destinies of unnoticeable humanity, appear no more than over-imaginative tales
of a creative mind and dishonest intentions.
But
what harm can a simple superstition which is meant to promote orderly moral
behaviour in society, can do to an individual? A one word answer is; grave.
When superstition is given a mathematical base, it is no more a hypothetical
thought, but it rather becomes a scientific tool. A newly born unadulterated mind
can grow and develop in any possible positive or negative direction. But once
the same mind has been adulterated with the knowledge, or rather fear, of a
future predicted as a matter of fact, the mind is already set in a direction directed
by a superstitious thought, than the talents or ingenious. Such predictions
subconsciously control and direct choices all through the remainder of a
human’s life, either hindering its’ free development, or giving it a push not earned
by virtue of talents and efforts; depending upon the negativity or positivity
associated with the prediction. The mind loses its’ free choice for every
observation it makes is forever adulterated by the knowledge of a future yet to
come. Superstition destroys individual freedom as one set of formulas starts
directing the future of every individual, based solely upon an inconsequential
set of figures like date, time and place of birth, neither of which existed in
nature; for the clock, calendar and atlas are all manmade.
However,
future cannot be left a hostage of superstition. Future has to be given a
direction humanity intends it to take. One should be brave enough to challenge
the norms, intelligent enough to question the beliefs and answer the doubts,
motivated enough to stretch personal limits, and foresighted enough to
predetermine consequences so as to adapt accordingly. It is not strength,
intellect, and cold-bloodedness, but motivation, foresight and commitment, that
create future. History is just incidental. New Saisho needs answers as well as
foresight, but most importantly, it needs to avoid getting trapped in a web of
superstition that invariably accompanies the unknown.
When
intellect flows out of many brains at the same time, when passions have been
stirred in every direction, when the day has been long but answers have still
not revealed themselves, even the biggest of rooms can feel like pressure cookers.
Every out of place silence, that intermittently interrupts the procession of
thoughts, appears like a precursor to the final whistle. After one such
inadvertent pause, the President finally asked the scientific brains in the
room, “Is there any possible way we can get around this catastrophe in
waiting?”
After
a long pause Jhiang finally replied, “Sir, within the constraints of our
current technology, the best, and possibly the only choice we have is,” and the
pause forced everybody forward in their seats, in a dreaded anticipation none
of them had wanted to ever entertain in their lives, “We save as many of us as
we can, and leave Earth forever.”
“Leave
earth forever,” Mrs Gabriella Downing exclaimed in horrified astonishment, “But
where will we go? And how far can we go?”
“I
cannot answer either of the two questions respected Member of the House,”
Jhiang replied, his head held down as if it were his personal fault, “We will
just have to keep travelling until we find a new and safer home, on either side
of the tears.”
“I
am sorry, but did I hear you correctly?” Mrs Downing exclaimed shaking her head
in disbelief, “Did you just say on either side of the tears?”
“Yes
Mrs Downing,” Jhiang replied, “We need pilots, possibly four to six, to fly the
space craft through and across the big enough space tears, continuously without
a stop. And that is our only way of travelling quickly enough through the vast
space, and end up at a planet not hostile to life, and still far enough from a
major impact, to give our future generations a chance to develop their
technology enough, to survive this natural phenomenon without the need for this
assisted travel.”
“So
you are saying we will have to keep travelling in space, possibly for
generations,” Mrs Downing asked, shaking her head in disbelief.
Jhiang
reluctantly nodded, “I am afraid so!” His reply left everybody in a speechless
stupor. He however continued, “But that is not my main concern at the moment.”
“Is
there something still left,” Mrs Downing asked ironically.
“We
will not be able to map our position in the Universe at any particular time by
any means, for we neither have a complete map of the Universe, nor we know
where we will end up in space once we go through our very first space tear.
Besides, we will have no technological assistance to track our travels,” Jhiang
put the situation in perspective, “In fact, our only way to spot the space
tears themselves would be a manual observation, both by the pilots, as well as
astronomers assisting with navigating the craft.”
“You
mean we cannot incorporate any of our current technologies, or develop a new
technology for space navigation,” Admiral Mir Abdullah asked.
“I
am afraid we don’t have the time for that,” Jhiang replied, “In fact, I don’t
think we can develop our nuclear technology any further either.” He laid
special emphasis on the last part of his statement, “I think we need to get a
craft ready now, with whatever technology we have.”
“You
are joking right?” Charles Diamond, Head of Planning Commission asked a
redundant question.
Jhiang
didn’t have to answer that for the President asked him a much more relevant
question, “How many of us can be saved?”
Safety
is merely a state of perception. Just because an organism considers itself safe
in an environment doesn’t necessarily mean it actually is. It only means that
the organism hasn’t identified anything that could jeopardise its’ physical or
psychological existence yet. The state of safety can alter in a blink of an
eye!
As
the waters started getting darker, and the currents began rising steeper,
Captain Aman Ahluwalia instructed his men, “We finish the day in another
fifteen minutes boys. I am sure by that time you would have retrieved the last
remaining nuke as well.”
“Dispatching
the last of the treasured items now sir,” Lieutenant James Michigan replied on
the radio and sought one final set of instructions, “Would you like me and my
men to have a look at the launch tubes too?”
“Well,
I think we have got more than enough already,” Aman replied after a brief
contemplation, “However I leave the final call to your discretion. If you want
to have a final look inside the submarine, it is your call.”
“Thank
you sir, over and out,” Lieutenant Michigan replied as he and his two men moved
over to inspect the missile launch tubes. One by one they checked seven launch
tubes until the eighth one offered them the last bit of treasure they were
seeking. “Sir I found the last remaining nuke on the submarine,” Lieutenant
Michigan triumphantly informed his senior.
“Good
work Lieutenant,” Aman commended a job well done. But before he could issue any
further instructions, Lieutenant Thomas Schneider, who had been inspecting the
hand written diary of Captain Ajay Chauhan, retrieved from ‘INS Ranjit Singh’,
brought an urgent discovery to his notice, “Sir, you better read this last
entry in Captain Chauhan’s diary.”
“What
does it say?” Aman asked taking the diary from Lieutenant’s hand as Anne looked
over his shoulder to have a look as well. Aman read out the entry loud, “We are
surrounded by enemy on all sides. Under direct instructions from the high
command, that at no costs the vessel should be surrendered to the enemy, I
order immediate detonation of a warhead. May Mother India accept my men’s
supreme sacrifice, as we perish taking our enemies down with us. Glory to
India!”
“That’s
strange,” Anne quipped, “Hadn’t the war ended a long time before the date of
this note.”
“His
brain must have been severely affected by the constant exposure to radiations
by that time,” Aman replied, “This is dated well beyond the war time, and must
have been close towards his demise.”
“So
will this be the eleventh nuke that Lieutenant Michigan has just discovered?”
Anne asked.
Her
question stunned everybody in the control room, but Aman immediately ordered
his men in the control room, “Thirty nine degrees north-west, full throttle,
quick,” before he quickly grabbed the radio set and called out his man
Michigan, “Alpha one to bravo one, Lieutenant Michigan, you are advised not to
touch the warhead you have just discovered. I repeat; do not touch it. Do you
copy?”
“Message
copied sir,” Lieutenant replied, “But we have already pulled it out of the
launch tube, and it looks perfectly alright to me.”
“Lieutenant,
we have just discovered a piece of information in the late Captain’s diary,
which suggests the warhead might have been deployed for a detonation,” Aman
informed his man, “But somehow it either didn’t detonate, or for some reason
its’ intended action terminated before completion.”
Lieutenant
was about to say something, but as soon as he put the wireless next to his
mouth, a surprise development shook him. “What the hell!” he exclaimed, and he
informed his Captain, “Sir, the weapon’s control panel has just switched itself
on, and is beeping crazily.” A fast beeping sound could be heard in the background,
and Lieutenant Michigan added, “And there’s a timer on its’ screen now.”
“That
weapon is armed Lieutenant,” Aman shrieked out loud, “Leave the weapon as it is
and get out of there as fast as you can. How much time have you got?”
“It
is counting down from twenty five minutes,” Lieutenant replied before asking,
“But sir, why is the missile not shooting towards a target?”
“The
weapon was set in an auto destruction mode, perhaps that’s why it is not
seeking any target,” Aman replied, “Just get yourself and your team out of
there quickly and try to get as far as you can and you might possibly survive.
The vessel was built strong enough to survive a major impact by conventional
warheads. It will help contain the force of detonation. And Alpha one to bravo
two, Corporal James Michigan, are you receiving?”
“Receiving
loud and clear sir,” Corporal Michigan replied.
“You
and your entire team are ordered to vacate the area and return to ‘NSS - The
Mighty’ immediately,” Aman instructed him, before turning his attention to his
men in control room, “Set the control room timer to countdown twenty four
minutes. And update me about our distance from the site every minute.”
Corporal
Michigan knew a motor boat would be a quicker escape than the underwater
submersible, but tried not to offend his senior’s judgement, as he discreetly asked,
“Sir, would you like me to wait here in my motor boat?”
“I
realize your motor boat will be a speedier escape Corporal Michigan, but if I
ask you to wait for Lieutenant Michigan and his team I will be putting another
life in a spot,” Aman replied, “So you are ordered to return to the ship
immediately. His team will have enough time to escape in his submersible.”
“Yes
sir,” Corporal Michigan obeyed the command.
The
only difference between a prediction and an expectation is, while the former is
stated as a fact, the latter only expressed as a hope. Beyond this truth, the
two are practically the same in their existence. They both hypothesize a
reality that may never be.
Corporal
Michigan had barely started his journey towards the expected safety aboard ‘NSS
– The Might’, when Lieutenant Michigan made his distress call, “Bravo one to
alpha one, Sir, we are stuck inside the submarine. The hatch has locked itself
and the electronic controls operating it have died down and won’t start again.”
There
was no response from the other end so Lieutenant Michigan tried to contact
again, “Bravo one to alpha one.”
This
time Aman replied, “I heard you the first time Lieutenant.” And then there was
a complete silence. Lieutenant Michigan and his team realized their predicament.
Lieutenant Michigan replied again, “Sir, can we record one last message each
for our families?”
Before
Aman could reply Corporal Michigan called on his wireless, “Bravo two to bravo
one, hold on Lieutenant, I will be right there in a minute to open the hatch
from the outside.”
“Corporal
Michigan, you do not have the permission to go back to the submarine,” Aman
immediately ordered his man on the wireless, “Return to the ship now!”
But
there was no reply from the other end, so Aman called again, “Corporal
Michigan, copy the orders!”
Still
there was silence on the radio. Finally someone from Corporal’s team called
back, “Bravo three to alpha one, Sir we saw Corporal’s wireless drop out of his
hand and into water just as he finished his sentence. Perhaps the suddenness of
the event popped it out of his hand.”
“Don’t
you dare give me excuses,” Aman roared back, “Just get back to the ship, and
GOD forbid, Corporal might as well perish at sea than return to the ship to
face me.”
It
is easy to face up to your worst enemies, but impossible to size up to a
conscience defied. A moment of cowardice lasts a lifetime. Those who weigh
their actions against their conscience however, never falter.
The
agonisingly long wait of a couple of minutes of radio silence was finally
broken by a cheerful cry from Lieutenant Michigan, “Bravo one to alpha one,
sir, we are free! Bravo two has responded and performed the trick.”
“Good
work Bravo two and one,” Aman replied pumping his fist in the air, and amidst
roars of joy in the control room, “Return towards the ship, quick. We are thirteen
minutes away from the site, and you still have nineteen minutes.”
Joy
however lives only as long as the next reality arrives at the door. Lieutenant
Michigan and his team had barely boarded Corporal Michigan’s motorboat when its’
engine died, and refused to start again. It had run out of fuel at the wrong
time.
“Bravo
two to alpha one,” Corporal Michigan contacted his Captain one more time, to
relay the bad news, “We are out of fuel!”
“Damn
it,” Aman banged the radio set to the floor in frustration, scaring Anne for a
moment, before quickly regaining his composure, “How far are we from their
location?”
“About
ten minutes sir,” Lieutenant Schneider replied.
“There’s
no time,” Aman quipped as he stood up, “Here’s your verbal orders Lieutenant
Schneider; you are the Captain of ‘NSS The Mighty’ till I return. If I fail to
return then the standing orders are; return the ship to New Saisho shores,
along with all the material recovered from the submarine, as soon as possible.”
“Sir,”
Schneider was taken by surprise, and so was Anne.
“What?
Don’t tell me you are going to get them,” Anne asked, mortified at the thoughts
that accompanied her question.
“They
are my men! They are my responsibility,” Aman replied back, “I’ll try my best
to save them.”
“But
you all will certainly die,” Anne nearly burst into tears, “There is just not
enough time.”
“I’ll
check my watch after I return,” Aman calmly replied as he ordered his men on
the deck, “Lower my motor boat.”
“But
you are still not able to walk properly,” Anne reasoned, tears rolling down her
eyes, reminding him of his still fresh injury, but before she could say anything
more, an unexpected call was received on the ship’s radio.
“The
mighty lightening of the skies, the greatest cuckoo of all times, the sweet
little homing ‘Humming Bird’ calling ‘NSS – The Mighty’; we seek permission to
arrive with your special delivery,” a jolly Captain Chris Davis, flying another
trip to the ship announced his arrival.
“What
is he doing here?” Aman asked before quickly grabbing the wireless and asking, “What
brings you here Captain?”
“Oh
no! Nothing brings me here,” Captain Chris Davis was unaware of the scenario
that had just unfolded at the seas, and continued in his light hearted vein, “It
is the guest I have for you who brings me here, the chief reporter of The Daily
Times.”
“Chief
reporter of ‘The Daily Times’, just what we needed, press!” the surprise
arrival shocked Aman, who quipped to his equally surprised men, “Who allowed
him here?”
“Actually
I had asked a press representative to be sent in here,” a reluctant Anne,
fearful of Aman’s reaction, admitted.
“What?”
Aman was immediately on to guns, “Have you gone mad? Why?”
Anne
was taken by surprise, “What else was I supposed to do? Your accident had been
highly publicised in New Saisho, and city was getting restless on account of
the floating rumours. I had to ask for a press representative to be sent here
so that we could show the people everything is alright.”
“Oh
great,” Aman was sarcastic and scathing at the same time, “And now what are we
going to show the public, shaved backs?”
“What
else was I supposed to do? Try to think it from my position,” Anne reasoned, “Public
was getting uneasy and we had to do something to calm them down.”
“But
you should have asked me first,” Aman replied, “Or at least informed me.”
“I
was going to inform you,” Anne replied.
“When,”
Aman asked, “Next year?”
“Look,
I was just doing my job,” a shocked Anne replied, before retaliating, “Besides
I don’t need to ask you anything. I am not working under you.”
“I
know you are the secretary to the President, but this is my ship,” Aman
replied, his tone very strict.
“Yes,
I am the secretary to the President, and what I need to get done, I can get it
done by asking your Admiral,” Anne took her best shot.
“Then
next time, talk to the Admiral first, and then let Admiral inform me first,”
Aman replied with vengeance.
“Don’t
tell me how I should do my job,” Anne was fierce too.
“Exactly,”
Aman replied, “Don’t tell me how I should do my job.” He then turned around and
staggered out of the room as quick as he can.
“Sir
please let me go instead,” Lieutenant Schneider volunteered.
“Now
Lieutenant Thomas Schneider, this is my job, and I will do it,” Aman replied.
“Aman,”
Anne, who had run out of the control room behind Aman held out her hand
pleadingly. Aman turned around and gave her a hard glare. A tear rolled down
her eye as she turned her face down. Aman turned around and quickly climbed
down into his waiting speedboat to shoot away in a jiffy. Anne looked up, and
kept looking far behind him. Schneider, who was standing next to her, saw
something in her eyes. When she turned around and noticed him staring at her,
he quickly turned his eyes away. Perhaps he had noticed what she herself didn’t
know yet.
Heart
is a strange organ. It keeps you alive, and yet sometimes, it won’t let you
live. Life would have been so much easier had heart been just a pulsating bob.
But heart has a mind of its’ own, that works independent of the other mind an
individual has, and controls it as well.
Far
from the tragedy in waiting at sea, Krystal, Corporal James Michigan’s wife was
playing with their only child. Motherly love was overflowing, but it was
somehow adulterated with the longings of a lonely wife.
“Say
papa come home, say papa,” she was playing with her infant as she rocked his
cradle. Her motherly affection continued to pour. “Where is Papa? In the navy,”
she was asking and answering her own questions. A blissful mother was enjoying some
cherished moments with the cynosure of her eyes. “You know when people ask your
papa, that you have seen all the world, which place is the best, do you know
what he says?” she continued, “He says ‘New Saisho’. And then when they ask him
why, do you know what he says?” The cute innocent child looked around, happy to
be with his mother, the only parent he was used to seeing around him all the
time. She continued, “He says, ‘New Saisho is the only place which has got my
wife and my son. No other place in the world has my wife and my son. So isn’t it
the best place in the world?’ And ain’t he right my little sugar pie.” And the
mother teased her little baby who chuckled.
Their
moment of bliss may have never ended in another better world, but the phone had
to ring in this one. “That must be papa,” she quipped, “Let mama talk to your
papa! Will you talk to your papa?” And she picked her baby up in her arms and
walked towards the phone which was ringing non-stop, as if there was nothing
more urgent in the world at that time, but that phone call.
“Hello,”
she answered in her sweetest voice, expecting to hear her loving husband at the
other end. Who else would have called her anyway at that hour?
“Hello,
Krystal, hello,” a highly upset Lisa, Lieutenant Michigan’s girlfriend could be
heard crying at the other end, “Krystal, is that you.”
“Oh
well, well, girl, hold on, what happened?” Krystal realized who it was, “Take a
deep breath and then speak.”
“Krystal,
help,” Lisa however wasn’t listening, just crying.
“Now
look here girl, either you cry first, or you talk. Otherwise I can make no head
or tail of what you are saying,” Krystal said to her.
“Turn
on the television,” Lisa replied, “Just turn on the television.”
“Oh
wow girl, now you are freaking me out; and I don’t like myself when I freak out,”
Krystal replied, “Just hold on and let me turn this damn thing on.” And Krystal
picked up her television’s remote control, and turned it on. The news that
greeted her, left her speechless, and the ground beneath her feet suddenly
slipped away. She sunk into the couch behind her, just in time to avoid the
fall. She was stunned!
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