Chapter Fourteen: Least of space

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God Of A Man

Infinity Confined

“Probability does not work at individual’s level, but it is individual who reaps the benefits or bears the brunt.”

Chapter Fourteen: Least of space

Dated: 21^st October, 2460

People often get carried away by happenings that occur out of the blue; luck, boon, curse or windfall, many words are thrown around to explain the phenomenon. But the culprit is much more sinister and subvert than all of these. It is the one that never tries to catch the limelight, or fancy of someone’s imagination. It leaves those for the ones who receive its’ tidings. Like a mole tunnelling under one’s feet, it keeps on doing its work undetected. Besides, for someone that can neither be predicted and nor ascertained, it catches none of the philosopher’s fancies. It is ‘The Probability’.

No one is alone in this world, even when they are without a mate, for there are others who dwell on this earth. Society is not made up by one person’s choices, likes and dislikes. Everybody is living their independent lives, and making an impact on the social map. Probability works at the level of the society. Many buy lotteries, and everyone thinks there is a very small probability they will win. But what they don’t take into account is the fact, that there is a very large probability that someone will win. And the more the number of people who buy a lottery, the larger that probability becomes. Yet the winner claims all the luck! Everyone makes a bad decision every now and then, but there is always only a small probability that everything will go so bad that the decision will come back to bite them. But when everybody is making some bad decisions, and then doing their best to make sure everything else goes right, there is a large probability that someone will suffer the consequences of their decision. The karma gets the blame for their curse!

But it is not just a question of probability getting the better of someone once. Once probability builds up someone, or destroys someone, it also sets them up in a situation where they are supposed to make many more decisions to recover or maintain. Their next decisions are based out of their current predicament, and even though the probability working at the level of the society is still the same, they have the advantage or disadvantage of a previous result which is their handicap for the game. The effects of their subsequent choices are tied to the result of their previous choice, and it is more likely that the probability that best connects to their previous result will materialize. Thus some people get all the luck, and some all the karma.

The aliens shocked less by another company, but more by what the new entrant to the scene said, stopped and replied back to Bradley, and a quick conversation ensued.

“I can’t believe this,” Mishansa exclaimed, “He can read their minds!”

“What,” a shocked Rocker exclaimed as everybody else kept looking on like mute spectators.

“You can read our minds,” Aman however commented, “Can you read his mind and know what he knows about the aliens?”

“I can’t read his mind anymore,” Mishansa informed him to his dismay.

Finally the conversation between the aliens and Bradley ended, and the two aliens finally backed off and stood still in a corner. Bradley stepped forward and took control of their weapons that were still lying on the floor.

“I need to stop the craft now,” Rocker exclaimed earnestly and moved towards the controls, taking the aliens by surprise. But Bradley calmed their nerves and explained to them what he was trying to do.

“Don’t turn the gravity off,” Aman commented.

Finally, Bradley turned to his people and made a shocking statement, “I’ll have to go with them.”

“What?” Anne exclaimed in surprise, “No you can’t; disallowed!”

“There is no other way,” Bradley exclaimed, “They have guessed our technical limitations correctly, and are co-operating only to get out of this situation. They will blow us to bits the moment they will get back to their craft.”

“Why shouldn’t we just kill them right now?” an angry Anne exclaimed, immediately raising the aliens concerns with her tone. Bradley had to calm the aliens once more.

“Negative,” Aman commented, “Their unit In-charge would be aware of their pursuit and engagement, and if we won’t send them back, or for that matter, allow them to report back soon, we should be expecting a much larger force confronting us.”

“That’s true,” Bradley quipped, “They were instructed to check up on us, and not to engage us unless it was utterly necessary or we were pathetically powerless.”

“So what do we do now?” a worried and distraught Anne exclaimed, “We are in no position to even continue our journey much longer in the current state of damage to our craft.”

“Let me go with them,” Bradley replied, “I’ll try to negotiate a safe passage from their superiors, while I suggest you fly back towards the ghost planet that we just found a couple of days back, and repair in its’ shadows.”

“But that’s not possible,” Anne reasoned, “We will miss our next space tear, which is only two days away.”

“We can’t travel in this damaged craft for too long,” Bradley reasoned back to her, “And besides, they won’t let us.”

“We’ll get stuck in this space,” Anne exclaimed.

“Actually no,” Aslam decided to join in the conversation at this point, “I and Jhiang have worked out the update for our system, and now we can predict space tears that would happen later in time, but at an increasing radial distance from our current location.”

“So effectively we can hop on to another chain, and start on a parallel journey; is that what you mean?” Aman asked.

“Exactly,” Aslam replied.

“I guess the decision has been made by our predicament,” Bradley quipped, “You travel back to that planet, repair the outermost layer of the craft in its shadows, and then if the need be, enter its atmosphere and try to land on it. We might get some much needed break and replenishments.”

“What about you?” Anne exclaimed.

“Actually, what about us, for I am going with him,” Aman chipped in, “He’s not going with them alone.”

“Negative,” Bradley however replied, “The mission needs to have at least one of us here with it all the time. Besides, in case of an eventuality, the mission cannot afford to lose both its’ military attaché.”

“But,” Aman wanted to argue, but Bradley cut him with a raised hand.

“Leave someone to pick me up from here in one of our emergency crafts,” Bradley continued, “If I return, I’ll make sure I return alone, and leave their craft here at this spot, without giving them an inkling to where I headed to after that.”

“Sounds like a good plan,” Rocker decided to add his opinion to the discussion, “But the only problem is; if their chemistry is made in reverse, how are you going to breath in their world. You can barely take oxygen worth four hours with you!”

“That’s another reason for only sending one person,” Bradley quipped.

“But how far away is their planet?” a concerned Anne asked, “That barely gives you a four hour window to do all the work.”

“That’s alright,” Bradley replied back, “Their planet is only forty five minutes away from this place in their craft. That should leave me with two and a half hours to negotiate with them. But I don’t think the negotiations would really last that long.”

“Well, if we have no choice, then we might as well go with all that you have suggested Captain Connors,” Anne exclaimed before walking away to her command desk, and dialling an extension on her calling pad. “Doctor Dillon, could you please bring in an oxygen pack to the flight deck.”

A hypothesis may not be a panacea, but it surely is a starting point. It gives direction to the inquest. Of course it is the answers found in the ensuing research that not only determine the validity of the hypothesis, but also lay the foundations for a better one.

“Sir, do you reckon we will find another earth in this universe which would be as beautiful and as motherly as ours,” a nostalgic Reginald asked of his senior.

“We certainly will find a planet that is homely,” the Rear Admiral replied, “It might not be as warm and loving as our mother earth, but it would still be our mother. And a child does not get to choose his mother, just like a mother does not get to choose her child.”

Reginald heaved a huge sigh before returning with another question, “Sir, how can a universe replace another?”

“That my dear young man is a question best reserved for a scientist,” Rear Admiral quipped as he glazed over his shoulder to look at the Chief Engineer Marcus Dodd.

“Sir, I don’t think this Universe is replacing our universe,” Marcus replied, “That of course is the hypothesis that Mr. Jhiang started his work with. But I think it is more of a case of two universes colliding, much like two galaxies in a universe colliding. The space tears are being created by the clashing of two different gravitational walls, with each universe pulling at the other with equal force, causing things to jump distance every time two gravitational waves emerging out of two heavenly masses collide. After all, what is a universe? It is not the entirety of the pitch black space, but is rather just a collection of galaxies made up of stars and planets. There must be billions of such universes in this space, and possibly billions of spaces outside this space.”

It is not what one knows, but what one doesn’t know that drives learning. What one already knows however makes up the tools needed to dig up newer grounds.

Doctor Dillon brought the oxygen packs, unaware who and what they were needed for.

“Please give them to Captain Bradley,” Anne motioned to her as soon as she entered the cabin.

Doctor Suzanne nonchalantly walked up to the man, who turned around to let her put the pack on. But something stopped Suzanne in her stride, and an expression of shock appeared on her face. When she didn’t move, Bradley turned around and looked her in her eyes.

“What happened?” Anne asked.

“We forgot to quarantine his oxygen,” a shocked Suzanne replied much to Bradley’s chagrin and everybody else’s shock.

But Bradley could no longer stand her questioning gaze, and grabbed the pack from her hands, “I’ll leave you to figure that out on your own. I’ve got work to do.” And he stepped away, towards Aman and waiting aliens.

“Here, keep this powerful mini wireless set with you,” Aman quipped as he put the wireless set in Bradley’s possession, “I’ve set up the frequency for you to communicate with our craft that would be waiting for you right here.”

The duo followed the two aliens to the hatch, where Aman held one alien with a recovered weapon, while Bradley moved to board the alien craft along with the first alien.

“It’s a shame we can’t keep him hostage until you returned,” Aman quipped.

“He will die in our atmosphere, and then all hell will get loose irrespective of what I manage to convince them,” Bradley replied as he started his journey towards the alien craft.

“Take care bro,” Aman quipped.

*************

Chapter Thirteen: The calamity in waiting

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God Of A Man

Infinity Confined

“Survivors rise when all else has fallen; heroes stand tall when everything can still be saved.”

Chapter Thirteen: The calamity in waiting

Dated: 21^st October, 2460

Sometimes all that matters is when you make a stand. The calling may be there forever, might have been there forever, but future is fixed when the call is answered. Those who sleep through the turmoil, only wake up to find all lost and gone for good. All that is left to do then is to salvage what is still in an acceptable condition. The only thing good about this approach is that most of the resistance on either side of the turmoil has already faded, and it costs less to the survivors in personal costs. This is an approach fit for those week and coward or shrewd and opportunist. There however is a big downside; all that one is salvaging out of the rubble of the society, it will not fix the ruins that the society is left as.

The better and more demanding approach is to make a stand when the society can still be saved. However, personal costs are greatest for those who dare to be the heroes. And perhaps it is this cost that makes their crowning glory the brightest. A lot may be lost of the society in the ensuing conflict, but enough is still left behind to rebuild. And even if all is lost except the survivors, then it is the work of the heroes that leaves something behind to be salvaged. Heroes are the chronological ancestors of the survivors of an apocalyptic future, and heroes put them to shade.

The time to make the choice is when the need to react is most dire. Anything later is too late, and it is hard to imagine a choice being made too early for generally the situation doesn’t become apparent until it has risen above the surface. Yes the fate is always avoidable, for fate doesn’t become future until a choice has been made. But of course, to change the fate one has to make a choice which often doesn’t rhyme with their natural tendencies.

“I made some fruit salad for you,” the little Jack exclaimed softly, as he put the salad plate by the side of the bed. Jenny had been down with fever, caused by the mild infection of her wounds. It’s ironic what she found in that fateful temporary lockup of theirs’ was barely enough to bandage her bruised emotions.

“It’s so sweet of you Jack,” a feeble Jenny acknowledged the young kid’s effort, but the mere act of her raising her hand to caress his cheek was enough to drain her out of her energy. Jack had to us all his strength to assist her in sitting up, and then he had to put the fruit piece by piece into her mouth, that she laboured to chew.

Labour of love however is seldom lost, even if misplaced. Those who labour in love, do so without ill intention, unless their love itself is sinister. And when the intentions are honest and love pure, the labour bears a future light as morning breeze.

The two aliens slowly moved through the dark corridor that extended towards the flight deck. One of them kept a keen watch to the front, the other towards the back. Slowly but surely, the two kept moving forward. The first one stopped at the entrance to the flight deck. Carefully he looked ahead, but the controls were all unmanned, and not a single soul was to be seen. Cautiously he put his first foot inside the cabin, and then pulled the rest of his body inside. To his surprise, all the inhabitants of this foreign spaceship that he found himself in were knelt down in a corner, their heads bowed and frames still like statues.

He called out to his companion who immediately rushed in to assist him in covering their hostages. The two spread out into two corners, to cover their catch. Finally one of them yelled something to the motionless captives. In a flash the lights of the cabin came on, as if switched on from somewhere remote, and Anne finally looked up at the intruders. Slowly and slowly she got back up on her feet, not to alarm them. She folded her hands and bowed to the intruders to express her gratitude, which for a less bright person might have appeared misplaced given the way the events had unfolded. But Anne’s first choice had to be reconciliation.

“Please, whoever you are, we mean no harm,” Anne pleaded in a soft voice, “We are just travellers on a journey across the space, to wherever our fate will take us.” Her comrades all looked up at their holders with pleading eyes.

One of the two captives finally stepped forward, and towards Anne. He was about a foot taller than Anne, and possibly had massive hands and feet, well covered by his space suit. He bent over to bring his helmet covered face right on top of Anne’s face, his visor touching her on her nose. It was almost like he was breathing down into her lungs. Anne however maintained her composure and stood her ground. But in a mad fit of rage, the alien let out a yell and slapped Anne hard in her face, sending her flying across the cabin and into the floor with a shriek and a thud.

Rocker and Margaret tried to get up but the alien quickly turned to them and hit the duo in two quick blows. And now everyone panicked, but stayed fixed to the ground, possibly under instructions from Captain Ahluwalia and Captain Connors.

The aliens raised their weapons to shoot at their shrieking hostages, but before any of the aliens’ could discharge their weapons, Captain Ahluwalia broke out of his hiding place and took out their weapons with two set shots.

“Stay still where you are,” Aman roared to the aliens as the surprised duo looked at him, and then at their weapons lying on the floor. Aman’s bullets had only dislodged the weapons out of their hands by their sheer impact, but they had failed to penetrate their space suits and ricocheted in different directions. “Come on out Bradley,” Aman yelled to his mate.

However, emboldened by the presumed lack of bite in Aman’s weapon, the two aliens lunged towards their weapons. But Aman quickly realized the predicament he was in, and immediately slid to the floor, kicking one of them in his legs and sending him flying across the cabin, and fired another couple of shots at the other alien’s hand, to dislodge the weapon he had just picked up again. Before the second alien could react, Aman quickly jumped at him and hit him in his stomach with a massive flying kick, tossing him back.

“Bradley, where are you? I need your help,” a desperate Aman called out for Captain Connors once again. But Bradley surprisingly was missing.

The first alien had meanwhile gotten up, and charged at Aman, who immediately ducked to avoid his stretching out arms, and quickly moved behind his back, to kick him in the side. Rocker and Margaret meanwhile lunged on top of the second alien, and a hand to hand combat ensued as the duo tried to neutralize him.

Meanwhile Aman took the first alien to task, “You bloody idiot; you don’t hit a woman.” He took a wild swing at his helmet, which even though hurt his hand, shook the alien’s head enough to make the alien lose his balance. Anne however watched on from a corner. “She was only talking to you,” Aman yelled out again as he stopped the alien’s kick by his side, and lunged forward to land his own massive kick into the alien’s stomach. In no time the alien was on the floor with Aman on top, landing punch after punch into the sides of his chest.

“Bradley, where are you?” Aman called out to his partner once again, but Bradley still didn’t answer.

Capacity does not always translate into results. It is not the capability of the machine, but the expertise of the handler that determines the extent of achievements.

“How fast are we travelling right now?” Rear Admiral asked Antonio Marks, his ships Chief Flight Officer.

“Sir we are doing good; about a quarter of the speed of light,” Antonio replied, “We might end up at the spot about two weeks in advance.”

“That’s really good,” Rear Admiral lauded the achievement, “That gives us time to scavenge through the nearby space, and search for a planet like ours.” He then took a deep breath, thought for a moment and then asked, “How fast can we go?”

“Sir, we are currently flying the ship at only one third of its’ power capacity,” Antonio replied, “But I am afraid, that is as fast as we can go.”

“And why is that?” Rear Admiral inquired.

“Sir, our technological capability to electronically monitor space environment is relatively limited compared to our ship’s prowess,” Antonio gave a humbling reply to his officer’s query, “And add to that, our intellectual abilities are relatively limited in analysing the massive data our technology is already capable of generating.”

“Marcus, is there a possibility of having a software solution?” Rear Admiral inquired of his Chief Engineer.

“Sir, our software is already highly capable,” Marcus replied, “It is just that we can only get so much out of it. The limitation is in our expertise.”

“That’s true,” Rear Admiral quipped, “It is not what the software is capable of, but rather what the man can make out of what he knows about the software, that determines the quality of his output.”

Output however is not always predictable. Sometimes a protagonist can surprise themselves with what they end up achieving. It is more important to invest an honest effort into the work. The result is merely an inevitable conclusion.

“Are you alright?” Aman asked Anne as she assisted him in tying up the second alien, while Margaret and Rocker tied up the first one.

“I’m fine,” Anne replied, holding back at her tears as hard as she could.

“Bradley, where are you?” Aman yelled out once more.

But while Bradley never answered, Aslam finally showed up with Mishansa, who surrounded by so many ripe and vibrant brains, nearly faded.

“Don’t fade yet Mishansa,” Aman immediately rushed to her side and grabbed her by her arm, “Please tell us what these people are thinking. We need to communicate with them.”

A dazed Mishansa looked at Aman, and then at the aliens. She turned back to Aman and said, “Aman, you are a good man!” And she nearly faded again. Aman had to shake her back to her senses again. Mishansa looked on like a person drugged, and strained at the two aliens. Finally she broke the terrible news, “I’m sorry! I can’t read their minds!”

“Please don’t say that,” Aman pleaded with her, “You can read everyone’s mind.”

“Not if they are not thinking,” Mishansa replied.

“How come I am thinking and they are not?” Aman vehemently asked, “Please try harder.”

“No, they are thinking,” Mishansa replied, “It is just that my mind is not corresponding to their brain waves. Their brain waves are so different, so weird.”

Meanwhile the two aliens used their mighty strength and broke off the chains holding their hands behind their backs. Aman immediately turned around and pointed his gun at them, yelling, “Don’t you dare move!”

At this point, finally Bradley broke out of his hiding place, looking completely dazed, but nevertheless pointed his gun at the two aliens who looked back at him.

“Aaras veis baiszer,” Bradley let out a strange cry, and the aliens halted in their stride.

*************

Chapter Twelve: The dark of the dreaded

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God Of A Man

Infinity Confined

“You may joke about your education, but never take your education as a joke.”

Chapter Twelve: The dark of the dreaded

Dated: 19^th – 21^st October, 2460

When one jokes about their education, one inadvertently also critically examines it at the same time. How is this so? Simple; because to joke one has to examine the subtleties of what is being joked about. One sets about a task of finding flaws, some genuine and some very minor, and then proceeds to colour them with their own style of humour; crude, rustic, or otherwise. But in this process, one also ends up evaluating what might have gone wrong, and might proceed to fix it.

But take your education as a joke, and the joke is at your own peril, for an education taken as a joke is seldom imbibed. And what isn’t imbibed; seldom comes to your rescue when you most need it. Education is much less dependent upon the one disbursing it, than the one embracing it. The best of the teachers cannot teach a student unwilling to learn. And when you start taking your education as a joke, this road downhill is what you embark upon.

Education comes to your rescue when your friends are there no more to fight for you. Education comes to your rescue when your parents can no longer fend for you. Education comes to your rescue when the only light that is still left burning is the one inside your heart. Education is both the saviour and emancipator.

“Could Mishansa’s people have really travelled in space for twenty five years?” Anne inquired of Jhiang.

“I asked her about it, and what she has told me has made me evaluate my own model,” Jhiang replied, “I and Aslam are currently working on updating our model, by incorporating what we have understood from her description of travel, in both radial and tangential directions.”

“What do you mean by updating?” Anne was now quite curious.

“This phenomenon of Universal replacement, as we all know so far, is propagating as waves,” Jhiang replied, “And waves have a frequency too, in addition to wavelength and amplitude. While our current model takes into account the wavelength and amplitude, it doesn’t utilize frequency as a repeating pattern.”

“Ah! Simple English please,” Anne finally interrupted Jhiang when she couldn’t make a head or tail out of it.

“What it means is; that the Universal breach-front gets repeated periodically,” Jhiang tried to explain, “Say we are currently travelling along the breach-front ‘Y’. After a specific time interval, the breach-front would repeat itself, say as breach-front ‘Z’. But the only catch is; this front will travel at a distance further away from where we are.”

“So in case we miss our breach-front, we can travel further away to get to the new breach front, is that what you mean?” Anne asked.

Meanings are often obscured by layers of incoherence that need to be peeled off file by file. Often there can be more than one meaning hiding under all those piles. Sometimes it is not the meaning, but the context that determines which one makes a perfect fit.

A distraught Jenny rushed madly behind the spaceship flying away, down the path that connected her home block to the beach, with little Jack following close behind.

“Please don’t go! Please,” a distraught Jenny cried out as she finally gave up the chase, as the spaceship made its way towards the edge of the atmosphere, or perhaps, the edge of the space. She fell down on her knees for the umpteenth time, her bleeding hands clasping her face, as if holding it in place above a torso that simply refused to carry it along any further. “Mom,” cried out Jenny as little Jack joined her by her side, crying his own tears.

How long the duo sat there crying would be hard to guess, but when they finally couldn’t bear the beating sun anymore, the duo laboured back on to their feet. But as the duo turned around Jenny noticed the two barrels of fuel lying by the side of Aman’s car.

“Fuel, is that what we are supposed to live off?” an agitated Jenny exclaimed as she rushed around and kicked one of the barrels hard, only to clench her foot in pain.

“Hey Jenny look, they left something inside the car,” Jack’s inquisitive eye however caught sight of a note left behind by their unannounced fleeting guests.

Jenny immediately rushed to the car, opened the door, and pulled out the note to read it.

“Dear Captain Aman Ahluwalia, this is Lieutenant Jake Reginald, acting under the direct command of Rear Admiral Gurubaan Ahluwalia, currently on board New Saisho Space Ship ‘Full Bloom’,” Jake’s note read.

“Father’s still alive,” finally something brought a cheer back to the crying face of Jenny. She continued reading on!

“Rear Admiral is really upset that you have abandoned your car on this deserted planet, and wants you to immediately remove it from here,” Jake’s note continued, “He says we are coming after you, to find you and discipline you for your injudiciousness. However, as a benevolent officer that the Rear Admiral is; he says if you remove this car latest by the end of next year, he would let you off this time.”

“Do you know what this means Jack?” an excited Jenny appeared to have finally found some reason to cheer, “They will be coming back in a year and a half, to see if the car is still here.” She then continued to read.

“In the meantime, we are leaving behind two barrels of fuel, in case someone wants to steal your car,” Jake’s note left, “After all, it is your mistake to leave it open.” The note was signed and dated the nineteenth day of the tenth month of the year twenty four hundred sixty.

She kissed the note a thousand times, saying, “Thank you! Thank you so much! We will be waiting for you guys! I swear we won’t miss you next time!”

It is natural to miss what you know is missing, but what troubles the mind more is what you are not sure if it is missing. While in the former case it is the thought of the missing object that troubles mind as it learns to cope with the absence, in the latter case the mind doesn’t know how to prepare itself, for it is not sure whether it needs to prepare itself for what is missing, or should it prepare itself to ease the fear that the object is missing.

“Sir, looks like Captain Ahluwalia was having a wedding on the day the car went missing,” Jake replied as he went through the stuff he had recovered from the car, “Here are some of his wedding invitations!” And he passed the stuff on to the Rear Admiral.

“It was the same day that he left on the mission,” Rear Admiral quipped as he flipped the wedding invitation to read inside, “But the list of people on board lists Rosie and Bradley as the only two people from my family on board.”

“It’s weird Sir, for I’m sure your wife wouldn’t have been eligible for rescue on account of her age,” Engineer Marcus quipped, “So both Rosie and Jenny should have been on the spaceship; one of them as Captain Aman’s family member, and the other as Captain Bradley Connor’s family member.”

“It indeed is strange,” Rear Admiral quipped, and then turned back to Jake, “Are you sure there was no one down there?”

“Sir, we did as thorough a check as we could have without searching door to door,” Jake replied after a brief thought, “Do you want us to go back and have another look.”

“Negative,” Rear Admiral exclaimed, “We don’t have any more spare time. I just hope there was no one.”

Hope can often be a lie too; a lie said to ease your own nerves. Such hope doesn’t necessarily have to be grounded in any reality based predictions. It just needs to do its’ job as a booster.

Jenny checked the seat pocket where she had left the note for Aman, and surely enough it was still there. A sigh escaped her lips, “I knew it! No one but only Aman would know where to look for it.” Dejected she left the note back there.

When you don’t know what you are looking for, it is highly unlikely you will find something intentionally hidden from view. It is the knowledge of what to look for, that drives a hunt. Everything else is just pot luck!

“What the hell was that?” a shocked Anne asked a stunned flight deck, as a fine laser beam zoomed past the spaceship ‘Maa’, and the shock wave accompanying the beam was enough to rattle the entirety of it.

“Nothing on the screen yet,” Margaret, who was sharing the flight duties with Rocker in a switched roaster, exclaimed as she frantically moved through various screens on the monitor in front of her.

“We got company,” were the frightful words of Rocker as he finally nailed the culprit, “They are slowing down, and our radio radar is finally picking them up.”

Captain Bradley Connors, who was on duty for the shift, immediately sprung to his feet and pressed the alarm, meant to wake-up and notify Captain Aman Ahluwalia, who was sleeping close by in one of the two specially constructed secret cabins by the side of the flight deck.

“They are coming back,” a frightened Margaret exclaimed.

“Relax,” Captain Ahluwalia’s voice boomed on the radio address, “Operation ‘Dead Duck’ is now on foot. No movement at all, no reaction whatsoever. Turn all the cabin lights off now.”

Meanwhile Bradley had snuck into his secret cabin.

“Aslam,” Anne nodded to her Flight Engineer, who immediately snuck out of the cabin under instructions.

“They are almost upon us,” Margaret informed everyone.

“Stay still, no movement, no reaction,” Aman reminded everyone again.

The alien craft whizzed past spaceship ‘Maa’ at a safe distance a couple of times before it finally took its first shot, a fairly massive one.

“We are hit,” Rocker exclaimed.

“Stay still,” Aman yelled back on the radio again.

The alien craft made another sortie before turning around and taking another bigger shot.

“They are going to kill us,” Anne shrieked.

“Stay calm, stay still,” Aman yelled back one more time.

The alien craft took one more shot, the biggest of them all.

“Level three breached, losing pressure fast,” Margaret exclaimed, “Only one more level to go before we lose our air pressure completely.”

“What do we do now?” Anne almost cried out, “We are going to die!”

“Stay still, stay calm,” but Aman still hadn’t changed his command sequence, “No reaction at all!”

“The centrifuges are working overtime, temperature peak is hitting critical,” Rocker exclaimed as he checked some parameters on his monitor, “We need to turn the artificial gravity off!”

“Negative,” Aman exclaimed, “Stay still! I want them to come in, and we’ll need gravity to make it easier for us.”

“The ship will explode,” Rocker exclaimed.

“Oh my mother,” Anne yelled out.

“It will explode anyway,” Aman retorted back, “We have no means to fight back! Hold on!”

The alien craft took a few more sorties around the craft before its occupants finally decided to inspect their weird company manually. The craft docked at the lower end of the spaceship, attaching itself with four tentacle-like suction pads. Two aliens, dressed in spacesuits from head to toe, and bipedal, sailed out of the craft, attached to it with their ropes. One of them used a hand held laser gun to blow a hole into the underside hatch of the spaceship ‘Maa’. As soon as the hatch was pulled apart, the two entered.

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