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.

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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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Chapter Eleven: The script of unknown probabilities

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God Of A Man

Infinity Confined

“A choice is all that you make; the future is what it results in.”

Chapter Eleven: The script of unknown probabilities

Dated: 19^th October, 2460

It is very easy to predict your future, and you don’t need to know all the stars and planets that revolve around your head to figure it out. All you need is an impartial analysis of the choice you are going to make today, then extrapolate its’ results. Add to the mix the eventualities that might afflict the outcome, and review your preparations, or lack thereof, and you know exactly what position the result would leave you in. That expected result would give you an idea as to your reach post future; whether you would be able to seek further glory, or would you be content where you might be right then. And there you have it; your future as you predict today!

While your choices are determined by you, the probabilities are determined by none, for each result, from abstract to absurd, is open to the future. You can however filter them with your efforts, to leave out those that you don’t wish to materialize, while multiplying the chances of getting a favourable result by the same factor. Sitting down on your bum, with your feet up on the coffee table and waiting for a lottery bonanza, and you know exactly where you would be, both in five minutes, as well as in five years.

This doesn’t mean that you won’t miss a golden goose chasing the end of the rainbow. You will if you won’t keep your eyes open for the opportunity. And this is what luck really is; you are seeking one thing, but find another on the way. But seek nothing, and everything would keep flying past your door. Efforts and a keen eye determine the winner.

“But why me, and not someone else?” a confused Chris asked Anne, as the two walked towards the flight deck.

“Because you first worked hard to be a pilot, rather than becoming a fisherman or a farmer,” Anne sensed he was troubled by the supernatural talk let loose on everyone by Norman. So she patiently answered his queries, “And then you worked as a pilot to be the best because you were never satisfied with your achievements, because you are a perfectionist by nature. Lastly, this mission needed a flawless flight officer, something you fit the bill perfectly, and you made the right choice. Had you not made that choice, you wouldn’t have been here.”

“But don’t you think someone was guiding me all this time, to be what I became?” Chris however was still not clear in his mind.

“Yes, and it was your life,” Anne replied, “People around you treated you in a particular way, that developed your understanding of life and emotions in a particular way. This unique individuality of yours determined how you would seek what you want, and also what you would want. All opportunities were open for you to seek, but you chose to do what you wanted to do because that is what you grew up liking. Your life experiences have been guiding you all the time.”

Life can teach you how to struggle, but it cannot teach you how to not let the struggle shape you as an individual. You will not be the same at the end of your struggle, as you were before it. This change is the learning, and learning is the strength. Each struggle leaves you a bit more strong and a bit less innocent!

“What’s that sound?” a surprised Jack asked an equally confused Jenny, as the noise of the NSSS Full Bloom overpowered the surroundings.

“Sounds like a craft or something,” Jenny replied as she strained her ears to try and ascertain the craft’s identity, from behind the door that was shut on her.

“Yey! They’ve come to pick us up,” Jack’s excitement didn’t know any bounds.

“Wait, we don’t know if it is our people or someone else,” Jenny however was cautious, “It could be aliens who live on this planet, and they might kill us.” And a sudden fear gripped Jenny’s heart as she clung on to Jack who by now had also realized the danger.

Learning can as much be a boon as much it could be a bane. The result would often depend upon the use it is put to in any given situation.

As the craft hovered above the block of units, one of its hatches at the lower end was thrown open and four soldiers, led by Lieutenant Reginald, were lowered down in to the street.

Inside the craft, everyone was busy with their assigned tasks. Engineer Dodd, who was managing the mapping unit called out to Lieutenant Reginald, “Alpha two to bravo one; could you please confirm the name of the street for me? Is it Calloway Avenue?”

“Brave one to Alpha two; now checking up the street sign markings,” Jake replied and confirmed, “Yes indeed!”

“Bingo!” exclaimed an exuberant Dodd, before turning towards the Command desk, “Sir, I can confirm, our mapping is a success. The block of houses, as predicted by the software, is indeed from ‘Peacock on the hill’ suburb.”

“Good work,” Rear Admiral replied before turning his attention to Jake, “Alpha one to Bravo one; Jake, you are clear to make the announcement on the radio, but make sure your men keep an eye out for any nasty surprises.”

“Copied sir,” Jake replied as he hooked the radio set back to his shoulder and grabbed the megaphone hanging by his side, “This is Lieutenant Jake Reginald of the New Saisho Armed Forces. If there is anyone living in these houses, please come outside. We are here to rescue you. I repeat, please come outside.” And as he continued with his announcements, he and his team took a cautious stroll down the streets, slowly making their way back towards the beach. The beach was going to be the last place to finish their physical search.

Barriers can be both physical and mental. While physical barriers can restrict you, mental barriers can actually break you down. It is much more important to overcome the mental barriers first.

“Oh my mother, these are our people,” a panicking Jenny exclaimed as she heard the very first of the announcements, “Damn this door.” Desperately she flung her body against the demon that stood in her way. “C’mon Jack, give me a hand,” she exclaimed as she repeatedly crashed her body into the thick wooden block, crying out for help and banging the door at the same time, hoping to catch the attention of those patrolling her street for the first time in months. Alas the noise of the craft was enough to drown her muted cries that escaped the closed room! The caravan kept marching on.

A journey doesn’t end until one arrives at the destination, numerous oasis might have lain in the path however. A resting spot is just what they are, and no more.

“The images of the planet show a complete ice cover on the planet,” Jhiang informed Anne and Charles, as Aslam prepared to transfer the controls to the next shift. Jhiang continued, “Initial analysis of the radio waves transmitted by the planet suggests it has the same elemental composition as is consistent with our universe. Looks like a planet lost by our universe, and it probably might have hosted life. In fact, I won’t be surprised if some life is still alive, even though it is now lost in completely starless space.”

“What a shame, no use to us,” a dejected Anne lamented, “But good to know that it reinforces our belief of finding a habitable planet for us.”

“Wouldn’t have been quiet useless had we had spare time,” Jhiang replied, “For then we could have replenished our ship with some natural supplies, like water, and possibly meat.”

“Of course,” Anne quipped in response, “Would have given us an opportunity to feel the real gravity again too. But alas; too good to be true!”

A lost opportunity is also an open window, for another to come by. It doesn’t matter, how good was the last one that you missed. It’s more important as to what you will make out of the next one. Making good of one opportunity is never enough. An opportunity can only set you up for a new opportunity. It cannot make you accomplished. Rather the struggle put in after the loss of an opportunity is what makes you better, both as someone who will grab the next, and also you ability to milk it.

The struggle was desperate, and the blood was real. “You are bleeding,” a crying Jack exclaimed as he saw the desperate Jenny flinging her body against the heartless piece of wood with all her might. With her knuckles skinned, ear hurt and shoulder aching, Jenny was a picture of struggle at its worst and best at the same time. But blood was the last thing that was going to stop her. Debatably death might have!

It is not what you would take away with you on your journey, but rather what you will leave behind, that matters. Forget something important, and you will fret through the entire endeavour, and leave nothing behind, those left behind will have nothing to say about you.

The caravan had moved on to the beach, and there was a surprise waiting for them.

“Sir, you won’t believe what we found here,” Jake radioed back to the ship, “A car!”

“What’s the registration,” a bemused Rear Admiral asked.

“It’s one of those fancy plates, says; Army,” Jake replied.

“That’s Captain Aman Ahluwalia’s car,” Rear Admiral immediately recognized his son’s license plate, “Funny it’s ended up here.”

“Sir, do you want me to check where it might have been when it was lost?” Engineer Marcus Dodd asked his officer.

“Negative,” Rear Admiral replied before replying back to Jake, “Have a look inside and see if there’s anything interesting that you can see inside.”

“Would you like us to bring it along?” Jake asked, “As a token!”

“Negative,” Rear Admiral replied, “We might end up rescuing people on our journey, so no point in carrying weight we can avoid. Tell you what; let us leave behind a couple of barrels of fuel that we don’t need anyway, as our token.”

Sometimes it is not the gift, but the impact that gift leaves behind, which is all that matters. Gifts are often desired but seldom useful, for they are not a planned acquisition. A gift rather is a liability that one needs to return in some other form.

“Help!” a tired, desperate and bleeding Jenny cried as she finally managed to break the door. Splinters of wood abraded her soft skin as she forced her had through the breach to unlock the door from the outside. Like a desperate deer running away from a forest fire, towards water, she dashed out of the house, and behind the ship. “Help!” she kept shouting, her feet faltering but her desperate efforts unwavering. She tumbled, got up, ran forward, tumbled again, but kept on going. “Help!” was all she could say with a fast deteriorating voice.

But those who came unannounced, had already boarded their train, and the train left the platform. All that was left behind was a desperate and broken girl, and a wailing child.

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