Fatal Urge Carefree Kiss
GOD Of A Man
Eternity Versus Eternity
“A politician is interested in results, a visionary in implications.”
Chapter Twenty One: The Great Inversion
Dated: 22nd December, 2459
Everything that happens in nature may not necessarily have a reason, but it will always have implications. Big or small, the result of every activity in nature alters the course of existence for the objects touched by its’ randomness. A small pebble rolling down a hill may not have a material effect on the existence of the hill itself, but were it to impact some of the tiniest creations on its’ way downwards, that might be the end of the world for such miniature life. The pebble might have to roll down under gravity in any case, but its’ choice of timing is not under its’ own control. But the implications for the miniature life its’ activity ends couldn’t have been more grave.
Quite in contrast to the randomness of the nature and the unpredictability of its’ timing, are the well-planned and immaculately executed actions of both a politician, and a great visionary. However one big difference between the works of the latter two is the intentions behind their initiatives. While a politician’s entrepreneurship is short term profit driven, a great visionary never lets the distant future get out of sight. A politician seeks results that promote short term interests. A visionary however is concerned with the implications of his actions today in the future to come. His decisions are always taken in the best interests of the society, and will hold good for a long stretch of time. A visionary builds up the base to be used by the future to take off from. The world has always progressed because of the great visionaries, while politics has always corroded the base of the society.
But there is one big downside to being a great visionary, for a visionary’s work is always only valued in retrospect, long after the visionary has left the world. The greatest visionaries have been condemned to live a miserable life by their peers, authorities and societies. The jealousy of the peers who cannot stand a man amongst themselves rise to the top by virtue of his talents, the resistance of the authorities who consider anything noble to be a threat to their free reign, and the impotence of the society in realizing both the value of the thoughts being shared and the suffering being endured, they all lead to the ultimate demise of their best in deplorable circumstances. What finally vindicates the visionary’s wisdom is the subsequent suffering of the future generations, and their realization as to how true the predictions of the visionary were, and how timeless his solutions to the problems stand. New Saisho however cannot afford to lose any of its’ great visionaries or their work right now, for else there might not be a future to suffer the consequences of it.
President Mr Shoji Katsuo was chairing a very tense meeting of minds in one of the biggest conference rooms at the ‘House of Voices’, the Parliament of New Saisho. The mystery was getting murkier with each passing event.
“So Dr. Ashfaq Hassan, are you telling us that the biological specimen has no chance of having originated in this universe,” President asked the head of Physics division from National Chemical and Physical Examiner.
“No sir,” Dr Hassan affirmed the belief, “The atomic structure of elements making up the chemical structure of the organic matter, it is incompatible with our universe’s atomic structures. Had it been from our Universe, all the matter would have either coalesced into a single mass due to inter-particle attractions or fragmented into miniscule particles on account of the repulsions.”
“Long story short, this universe wouldn’t have been,” President put it flatly.
“I am afraid so,” Dr Hassan nodded in affirmation.
“I don’t understand,” Doctor Jonathan Yardley spoke as he looked at his protégé Jhiang Chu, as if expecting some answers, “So are we dealing with dimensional tears, or is this some kind of space gates, connecting our universe with another universe.”
“I think it might be a case of two universes colliding,” Doctor Stephan Sebastian from the engineering wing added his two cents into the hat, “Perhaps a bigger universe is pushing ours out of place, and as this is happening, its’ boundary wall is pushing through our universe’s cross section.”
“Yeah, that could be right too,” Doctor Yardley seemed to find logic in the hypothesis, but had his doubts, “But then, how come we don’t see any of the stars or galaxies making up the other universe, and where is the matter from our universe vanishing to?”
There was a brief outbreak of sporadic chatter in the room, like it had been many a time earlier through the afternoon. Doctor Yardley’s question seemed valid and had the President engrossed in deep consternation. But Jhiang was silent, his gaze fixed on something distant as his eyes fixated on top of his table. Suddenly his gaze was distracted by the inadvertent handling of a baseball cap by his colleague Nagarjuna Reddy. Reddy, who was himself lost in deep thoughts, had his baseball cap in his hand, holding it from its’ shade in one hand, while he pushed the cup of the cap inside out again and again with his other hand. In a flash Jhiang grabbed Nagarjuna’s wrist, attracting everybody’s attention by the slapping sound his action created.
“What? Why?” Nagarjuna was surprised and shaken.
“I think I know what’s happening,” Jhiang replied.
“What,” Doctor Yardley asked shaking his head, as his double chin swung like a pendulum.
“We are being replaced,” Jhiang’s reply sent shivers down everyone’s spine.
Replacement comes as a part of a warranty, a promise that what is dysfunctional will be replaced at expense to the creator. Replacement is thus, a function of the creator’s will, or rather willingness to reimburse. But when the creator himself is non-existent or unknown, then so is the warranty. And without a warranty replacement exists only in hopes. Perhaps that’s why a life once lost can never be replaced, provided the life has been lost.
As the water from the tap flowed thick and fast down the drain of the wash basin, the dirty off-white wall behind the mirror looked dark even in the daylight that was peeping through the small ventilator opening in the wall. A web laced dirty exhaust was working overtime, throwing the depressed feelings out of the urinals more than the stale stink it was pushing out. Captain Bradley Connors was not even half the strong man everybody had come to know of, as he struggled to stay upright on his knees, holding on to the sides of the wash basin, as he grabbed a fistful of water to clean his face.
A pair of footsteps urgently paced down the corridors and a soldier knocked at the door before stepping into the men’s room. “Sir, Mrs Ahluwalia is here to see you,” the soldier informed his Captain, who looked blankly at the mirror in front.
Seated on a lounge in the lobby, her frame angled towards a window that looked out towards the barren land that lay beyond the cantonment, Mrs Ahluwalia gracefully wiped a tear that had dared to roll down her cheek. She turned around and saw Bradley standing at the edge of the mattress that covered the floor between their feet, silent and head held down. Mrs Ahluwalia stood up and looked at Bradley, her hand automatically raised to her mouth as she covered her lips with her handkerchief, just before her face fragmented into a sea of emotions, “Bradley, my son!”
“I am sorry mom,” Bradley too broke down as Mrs Ahluwalia rushed to him and hugged him tight to her bosom.
“Oh, what has happened my son? What has indeed happened?” Mrs Ahluwalia cried her heart out, and so did Bradley.
“I am sorry mom, but he wouldn’t listen to me,” Bradley exclaimed as he fell to his knees, clinging on to Mrs Ahluwalia’s legs like a child. Mrs Ahluwalia knelt down beside him and put his head to her bosom.
“Don’t you despair my child, don’t you despair,” Mrs Ahluwalia tried to calm him.
“How will I face Aman,” Bradley asked, “Sir had always loved me more than him. He has always hated me for it. He has always seen me a competitor to Sir’s affection. How will I face him?”
“Oh my child, don’t you worry about him,” Mrs Ahluwalia tried to calm him down, “You two are not children any more, and neither are you in the academy. I am sure Aman will understand.”
“I don’t know if he will understand or not, but I will never forgive myself for letting you down, for letting Sir down, for letting everyone down,” Bradley lamented.
“You did not let anyone down, so stop blaming yourself” Mrs Ahluwalia replied, “Admiral Abdullah has told me everything about what happened, and I can tell you, if I was there instead of Mr Ahluwalia, I would have done the same too, and not just because it was you, but for any other young man serving our community. You young people are our real lives.”
“But the ship was my responsibility, not his,” Bradley argued, “He was just on an inspection tour, his last before his retirement.”
“A brave life deserves a befitting finale,” Mrs Ahluwalia wiped her tears as she reasoned with the young man, “Besides your mom was my best friend. You were too young at the time of that fateful car crash that took away my best friend and Mr Ahluwalia’s best friend, your father. I held your mother’s hand before she closed her eyes forever. You were there by her bed side, unaware of what was happening. She gave you to me, as my own child, and only GOD knows, from that moment so were you to Mr Ahluwalia.”
And the mother and son cried their hearts out at their loss.
Loss is a relative reality. One man’s loss may be another man’s gain. An event cannot and should never be judged by the positivity or negativity of the results alone. Rather it should be viewed and valued from a comprehensive perspective, taking into account the bigger picture of immediate results as well as the implications that can be forecast, not just for the receiving end, but the associated and contrary ends too. A failing business is good for the competitors, and a failing market is good for the opportunists. A fallen regime is good for its’ vacant authority, and a fallen enemy is good for his orphaned weapons, food and medicines.
“Sir, there’s a digital console that operates the door of the Magazine,” Lieutenant James Michigan informed his Captain.
“Any other physical features you can see around the console that look like a mechanical device to block entry to the magazine in case of an intrusion,” Captain Aman asked.
“Nothing visible as such sir,” James replied, “Do you reckon there could be hidden weapons installed in here?”
“I don’t expect hidden weapons, for only those working on the submarine would have had an access to the Magazine,” Aman replied, “But there could be a drop down cage or something to hinder access to the door.”
“No sir, I do not notice any such features,” James replied as he scoured around in the dim light from this shoulder mounted fluorescent tubes and head lamp on his helmet.
“Ok, then try the same code that we used for entering the submarine,” Aman advised, “And if that doesn’t work then try the code 5244463 which stands for ‘Jai Hind’ or ‘Hail India’. Let us see if any of these works.”
The first one didn’t work, but the second one sure did as James exclaimed, “Bingo!”
“Wow, I am impressed,” Anne nodded in admiration, making her presence felt in the room. The camouflage colours looked great on her fit frame as her flowing hair flew around in the pleasant sea breeze that whizzed through the open windows of the control room. There was a distinct twinkle in her eyes.
“Sir, there are twelve compartments inside the magazine, six on either side,” James informed from the submarine, “They all appear to be made up of some special metal.”
“That must be Cadmium,” Aman replied, “Cadmium absorbs stray neutrons, thus helping in control of nuclear fission. You will find this metal used in a lot of objects you will encounter in this room, including the missiles and warheads. Be careful with the warheads and follow the guidelines given to you. Replace one warhead at a time, and secure it well in the special boxes Corporal James Michigan is transporting to your location. They are all Cadmium lined as well.”
Once Corporal James had provided Lieutenant James the first batch of four boxes, James started removing one warhead at a time with the help of his team members. Two of his men were supposed to transfer the warheads out of the submarine and to the waiting men of Corporal James team, who were then instructed to remove the warheads to ‘NSS The Might’ straightaway for safe keeping.
“Sir, it looks like there is only one warhead per compartment, which would make it twelve warheads for twelve compartments,” Lieutenant James replied, “Did they use any of the warheads in the war?”
“They did use one warhead, I can confirm that to you,” Captain Aman replied.
“Sir in that case the official records of fifty warheads will be an overblown account, for all I can count is twelve chambers, with each having one warhead in it,” Lieutenant informed his Captain.
“Well, the sub was released during the peak of the wartime, so I won’t be surprised if the claims had been exaggerated to enhance its’ threat,” Aman quipped, “Psychological advantage can play a vital role in battles.”
“Sir, if they used only one warhead during the war, there should be eleven still available,” Lieutenant replied before revising his statement, “Sir, make that ten, for there is one more chamber empty.”
“That is not possible,” Aman was surprised, “The official records compiled after the war clearly show that only one warhead was used by INS Ranjit Singh during its’ entire lifespan.”
“Sir, I don’t know about the official records, but there are two empty chambers over here,” Lieutenant James Michigan replied.
Empty is not the space which bears the capacity to hold anything that fits within its’ size. Empty are the words bereft of emotions for they cannot hold comfort. Empty are the thoughts never put into action for they cannot hold dreams. Empty are deeds that promote no social interest for they cannot hold future. Empty is the heart full of evil, for it cannot hold love in it.
“Granger, where are you,” the frail but stern voice of Father Luis Ferdinand boomed inside the ‘House of Faith’. He had just returned from his trip to the countryside, visiting men and women working in remote mining locations.
“Father,” Norman appeared from a room to the side of the main hall, “When did you return from your trip? You look tired. Please take a seat.”
“Oh don’t you worry about me,” Father retorted back, “Jenny has informed me of all the ill-deeds you two have been up to behind my back. I will deal with you later, but first tell me where is Granger? I want to talk to him right now.”
“Brother Granger is visiting some homes in the community and won’t be back till late in the evening,” Norman replied as Sister Rosalie, Father Ferdinand’s secretary, walked in. “You two look really weary after the long journey. I would humbly request you two to please rest yourselves today. Brother Granger will be here tomorrow anyway, and I am always at your disposal.”
“Don’t try to soft talk me you dumb fool,” Father was still instigated, “Do you two even realize the hazardous potential of what you two have been preaching behind my back? Do you two want to see the society destroyed all over again?”
At this point Sister Rosalie’s phone rang. “Hello,” she answered the phone but her expressions soon turned into fear, “What? I am coming. I am coming right now.”
“What happened,” Reverend asked her.
“My house just caught fire,” Sister Rosalie broke down, “I need to go.”
“What,” Father was surprised too, “Please, go! Are the fire-tenders in attendance at the sight?”
“Apparently they are,” Sister Rosalie replied, “But I need to go.”
“Yes, yes! You go straightaway,” Father Ferdinand replied, “Take my car with you. I will use the ‘House of Faith’ vehicle if I have to.”
Sister Rosalie took her leave and even Norman excused himself as Father Ferdinand sank into his chair to relax his weary frame. Norman however made his way to the roof, and as soon as Rosalie’s car had turned around the corner, using a small piece of mirror, flashed a reflection into the distance. A reflection was flashed back from amongst the trees in the distance, as if a part of a signal exchange.
Communication can sometimes be the only antidote to confusion, and at others, the sole source of confusion. The end result depends both upon the intentions of the ones’ communicating, as well as their abilities to communicate. Communication is an art, an expertise; those who master it, master the means to rule hearts, heads and souls.
“What do you mean we are being replaced,” President asked Jhiang Chu.
“Sir, from all the data I have collected so far regarding the chain of events, it suggests a parabolic wave approaching, or rather eating up our universe and our galaxy,” Jhiang replied, “Add to it the knowledge of our universe, like the Galaxies moving away from each other and getting lost beyond the universal boundary, and then add to it our latest discovery of matter that exists in physical inverse to the matter known to us. It all points to one thing.”
“What?” the President asked.
“Our universe is inverting itself,” Jhiang replied.
“That makes no sense,” Doctor Sebastian and Doctor Yardley almost exclaimed in unison.
“Sir, look at this cap,” Jhaing said showing the gathering the baseball cap, “If we imagine the cup part of the cap to be our universe, see what happens when I push the cup side inwards from the other side.”
“The cap gets inverted, inside out,” Doctor Yardley replied.
“But what happens to the space inside it?” Jhiang asked, but when no one replied, he answered the question himself, “The space gets inverted, from inside to the outside.”
“So, what’s the point,” the President asked.
“Sir, what’s happening is; the boundary of our universe is collapsing inwards, in a spherical shape, inversing the space from our side to the other side, still in the same three dimensions,” Jhiang replied and carried on, “This inversion must have started at the same time as the previous inversion would have finished creating our side of this universe.”
“That’s rubbish,” Doctor Sebastian quipped, “What proof do you have?”
“Sir, I realize this is just a hypothesis, but then what proof do we have for big bang,” Jhiang asked in return before reasoning on, “At least it explains why our galaxies are running away from each other, when gravity should have been pulling them back together. The galaxies are just being edged away from the centre outwards by the rising universal boundary, and those that have fallen beyond its’ horizon, appear to have been lost out of our universe.”
“Then what is this space gate phenomenon that we are witnessing,” Doctor Yardley asked.
“Sir, the space gates that we are witnessing are the tears in the progressing universal boundary through which matter can be exchanged between the two sides of the universe,” Jhiang replied, “These tears are like tiny droplets of water that fly out of the incoming waves and hit the shores before the actual waves hit it.”
“So is there any escape for us,” Doctor Sebastian asked.
“From the looks of it, I don’t think we can survive on the other side of the universal wall, for complete lack of elements and compounds that we know and need, including oxygen, water and food,” Jhiang replied, “And the only way to survive on this side would be to get to the centre of the universe, for if you look at the cap, the centre of the cup has a hole bound by a buckle. In case of our universe, this hole should be free space where elements from both sides will exist freely.”
“I don’t know what to say,” Doctor Yardley looked around as everybody looked at him expecting a denial or an affirmation of his wards’ theory, “Perhaps we should just call it ‘The Great Inversion’ for starters.”
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