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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: 19th – 21st 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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