Fatal Urge Carefree Kiss

 


 

 

 

 

 

 

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GOD Of A Man

 

“Past is to be remembered, not relived.”

 

Chapter Twenty: Last memory

Dated: 22nd December, 2459

 

History is the past one has moved on from. A memory still alive is a past. For it to become history it has to be archived, only to be used as a point of reference and learning, in the future, or by the future. Holding on to the past is always a destructive pastime, for neither can the past be changed, nor does the revisiting of memories help the cause of easing the pain. Remembering a past is akin to reliving the original experience, as if trying to influence the outcome by changing decisions and undoing what has already transpired. Teasing a healed wound only flares it up again. Past is meant to guide us in making better choice when responding to situations that had earlier ended up in catastrophes.  Holding on to what is dead is only an invitation to flies and flesh eaters.

 

History however can help one predict future to a certain degree. Human behaviour, for the better part of it, is a repeating pattern of reactions, both individual and social, to the stimuli provided by any particular type of situation. Every mob has a similar mentality; that of self gratification. Similarly every aristocratic organization, be it government, law enforcement or judiciary, each one of them has a certain attitude of disdain and varying degree of tolerance towards the mob. Whenever there is a clash of interest between the mob and such organizations, results are fairly predictable. For this very reason revolutions never go out of fashion, and so don’t coups and rebellions. “Do they serve any purpose for the society” is a point debatable only post a result for the same.

 

The biggest driving factor for much of humanity happen to be its’ basic instincts, and nothing is more potent than a fear for safety. This is where the honesty and foresight of the leaders of the mob come into vital play. A leader motivated by personal greed will invariably drive a society towards destruction. Nations have been misled into needless wars by such leaders. However, a leader driven by the interests of the community knows the value of peace, importance of equality, and need for sacrificing individual interests for greater common good. Such leaders create blue-prints for the future. The society progresses because of the foresight of such selfless leaders. New Saisho has been lucky so far, to have been lead by such great thinkers and doers. The question is; will it run out of luck now?

 

The warm night had finally culminated into a muggy hot morning. Rain was imminent, but only after the heat would have dehydrated every life form to the limit of exhaustion.

 

“Wake up you idiot,” Granger was shaking Norman awake at their quarters by the side of ‘House of Faith’.

 

Norman got up, still in a daze, and confused, “What happened?”

 

“I just had a word with him,” Granger replied, “We are clear to clean our way.”

 

“Really,” suddenly Norman had lost all his sleep as his attentiveness hit its’ peak, “The old man’s coming back from his tour today.”

 

“I know,” Granger replied, “We got a lot of work to do before he arrives. There’s no time to waste.”

 

Time has certain apathy towards events. There is nothing more perfect than time. In fact time is the only thing perfect, for no matter what happens it keeps ticking on forever, without a break or hiccup, everywhere in the universe. Perhaps it could only be something non-existent like time or GOD which could be perfect, for everything real is imperfect.

 

As Dr Suzanne Dillon tip-toed her way into her lab, there was a conspicuous urgency in her gait. She flung open her office door and without looking around, headed straight for her computer.

 

“Well, well, well,” a voice from a corner sought her attention, “As if we don’t even exist now!”

 

“Xavier,” Dr Dillon jumped out of her chair, “I am so sorry, I didn’t even see you. When did you return?” She rushed to him and the two hugged each other as if they had seen each other after years.

 

“Well lady, you sure look gorgeous today,” Xavier replied, “Oh I love those earrings of yours. When did you get them?”

 

“Just yesterday, from your friend’s store in the mall,” Suzanne replied.

 

“That cheeky pig, don’t call him my friend,” Xavier complained, “He always gives you the best of pieces, as if I am nobody.”

 

“Stop complaining bitch and tell me when did you return?” Suzanne pinched him hard on the side of his arm as Xavier twisted in pain.

 

“Ouch! Don’t do that bitch, it hurts,” Xavier returned the compliment, “We just returned today morning and we came back to your office straight from the airport.”

 

“Who are we?” Suzanne asked a bit surprised.

 

“Captain Bradley Connors of-course,” Xavier replied gesturing with his hand, “Don’t tell me you didn’t notice such a big man in the room.”

 

“Captain is here,” Suzanne almost lost her breath as she immediately turned around to see, “Where is he? I don’t see him.”

 

“Look at you! Just look at you,” and Xavier burst out laughing.

 

“You bitch,” Suzanne quipped as she kicked Xavier in his leg with the tip of her shoe, “Suffer the pain for your sins now!”

 

“Ouch!” and Xavier winced.

 

“Oh damn! Thanks to you and your silly jokes, I almost forgot what I was going to do,” Suzanne exclaimed as she rushed back to her computer and opened up her email account.

 

“What happened,” Xavier asked as he pulled up a chair next to her.

 

“Just got a call from the National Chemical and Physical Examiner on my way to the lab,” Suzanne replied, “They have discovered something concerning about the material we found at the sight, and have forwarded me some detailed reports of their early analysis.”

 

“What does it say,” Xavier asked as Suzanne opened up the detailed report on her computer screen. The two were glued to the screen for the next few minutes, and as they read through the report, their jaws dropped in amazement.

 

“This is unbelievable,” Suzanne exclaimed as she read out a portion of the report, as if trying to confirm what she was reading was indeed what was actually written in there, “They say this material does not belong to this universe, but rather another universe or dimension.”

 

“That is so weird, and so not possible,” even Xavier was not ready to believe what he was reading, “This is ridiculous. I mean, how can they say the thing is made up of reversed atomic structure molecules?”

 

“But they are saying that they conducted a modified Rutherford’s Gold Foil test, and the results positively indicate that the atoms making up the organic molecules in the sample have a negatively charged nucleus, with all the mass concentrated in the nucleus, and the lighter positive charge dispersed around it,” Suzanne replied.

 

“This just doesn’t make sense at all. It is complete reverse to the atomic science we know,” Xavier quipped, but before Suzanne could answer further, the telephone in the lab rang. Suzanne immediately answered the phone.

 

“Yes sir, we will be there,” Suzanne replied to the person on the phone before putting the receiver back. She then turned to Xavier and informed him, “Both of us have been asked to be present at the conference room in the Grey House, at fourteen hundred hours sharp. The President has convened an emergency meeting.”

 

Xavier was still speechless, but finally muttered a few words, “You know Bradley’s hand has started turning greyish around the site of his injury.”

 

“What? We need to call him in now,” Suzanne immediately replied.

 

Urgency of actions can sometimes be the sole determining factor of the outcome in many situations. Some situations have an inevitable and expected end, especially the ones that constitute disasters. For such circumstances, the best possible course of action is to show urgency in saving what could be saved, and minimising damage to what cannot be saved. A stitch in time may not always save another nine, but can sure delay their requirement.

 

Lieutenant James Michigan had been back with his team at the site of ‘INS Ranjit Singh’ since early morning. After fiddling around with numerous permutations and combinations of passwords, his captain suggested him to use the number ‘62592’. This number, according to him, was the number sequence on a telephone that would make the surname of the best generals of King Ranjit Singh’s army, Hari Singh Nalwa. And right indeed he was!

 

Once the hatch had been opened, the instructions were clear to the young lieutenant and his team; “Preserve everything as it is, and retrieve everything that is retrievable.”

 

“Sir, another body,” Lieutenant James reported on the wireless, “This makes the total dead discovered to eleven so far.”

 

“They must have died at about the same time, and must have been the last few ones who couldn’t be given a proper sea-burial for lack of man-power,” Captain Aman Ahluwalia replied.

 

“How sad it is, these men never got to see their families again,” Anne exclaimed as her eyes filled up.

 

“It will be a great injustice to these men if I don’t tell you this,” Captain Aman replied, “All men aboard this craft had to bear the pain of talking to their relatives that were dying. They were safe onboard this craft when their families were perishing on ground. They had to speak to their dying young kids.”

 

“Sir, looks like I’ve found their Captain’s body,” Lieutenant James voice interrupted their conversation, “I am inside the control room of the sub, and there is only one body here, lying on the floor in torn naval clothes. His shoulders still bears the rank insignia of four rings with a curl in the upper ring.”

 

“That has to be Captain Ajay Chauhan,” Aman replied, “He was the last one to perish according to the records retrieved from ‘Hatsu Saisho’ database.”

 

“Sir there’s a diary lying on the floor, and a pen too in the corner,” James added from the submarine, “Must have been his. The ink on the pages of the diary has faded a lot but is still readable.”

 

“Send it back to the ship with the first lot of material retrieved,” Aman gave the necessary directions, “Look for any information about the weapons storage.”

 

“Sir there is an engraved map of the submarine on one of its’ walls,” James replied, “It shows an area marked as ‘Magazine” at the second level, just behind the second row of missile launch tubes.”

 

“I am sure that is the one we are looking for,” Aman replied, “Report to me if any mechanical safety measures are still in place for that area. Be careful with the warheads. Corporal James Michigan is leading a team of four boats to transport material retrieved from the submarine, back to ‘NSS The Mighty’. Any questions?”

 

“No sir,” Lieutenant James Michigan replied.

 

Life has a habit of running head on like a train, with individuals left to either catch up with it all the time, or to turn around haplessly and witness what is being left behind in haste. Before long, much of what was once held dear is left behind one or the other corner, never to be seen again. It’s only by a sheer chance that someone left behind around such a corner will meet you again along the way, by virtue of their life train crossing the same station as yours.

 

Her eyes swollen and red, it looked like Jenny hadn’t slept all night, as she walked through the aisles of the grocery store, with little Rosie by her side, holding her finger hard.

 

“Mama likes this, can we please take it?” Rosie innocently asked as she pointed out Mrs Ahluwalia’s favourite tuna brand to Jenny. She was an innocent child who knew something was wrong, and that she wasn’t supposed to know.

 

“Yes sweetheart, I was looking for this too,” Jenny replied, controlling her tears.

 

“Jenny, is that you,” a voice boomed from behind as Jenny turned around to have a look at the familiar looking stranger.

 

“Elle, Elle Wilson,” Jenny exclaimed as she recognized the face, “That is you! Wow, so long! How and where have you been?” And the two ladies hugged each other.

 

“You know, after I left school I joined my father’s fishing crew and sailed around for a few years, and then academy happened, and now, well,” Elle summed up her long story short.

 

“I see you girl, so you are a police officer now,” Jenny exclaimed, “I can’t believe such a shy girl like yourself could be wearing the uniform one day, keeping the streets safe.”

 

“Oh yeah, don’t push me up the palm tree now,” Elle joked, “So what’s up with you? I met Aman the other day. I gave him my number but looks like he forgot to give me a call. I see you two are still together after so many years.”

 

“So many eventful years,” Jenny added with a smile, “Oh he had to leave in such a hurry, and couldn’t give you a call. In fact, he even forgot to give me your number.”

 

By this time Rosie was getting impatient as she felt cut out of the conversation. She grabbed Elle’s hand and shook it, “Officer officer, are you the sleeping zombie from Aman’s class?”

 

Her question left Jenny embarrassed as her jaw dropped down in surprise, “Rosie, you don’t say such a mean thing.”

 

But Elle took the joke in spirit as she knelt down and laughed, “Yes, that’s what they called me, thanks to your brother Aman.” And Elle pinched Rosie’s nose.

 

“Are you Aman’s friend, or are you Jenny’s friend,” Rosie asked her further.

 

“I am a friend to both of them,” Elle replied.

 

“But how can you be friends to both,” Rosie asked innocently, “Jenny is so intelligent. You should be her friend.”

 

The two young ladies laughed before Elle grabbed Rosie by her chubby cheeks and exclaimed, “I agree with that, but don’t you be so mean to your brother you naughty little girl.”

 

“Aman is the brave one,” Rosie tried to make amends, “Jenny is afraid of cockroaches. Even I am not afraid of cockroaches.”

 

And the two girls laughed again. Elle finally said to Jenny, “I have to leave as I am running late for work. Here, take down my number, and let’s catch up sometime.” And Elle and Jenny exchanged their numbers.

 

And numbers, they sometimes add up, and sometimes they subtract each other.

 

 

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