indiansciencefiction

Yantrixa 10:To Nazia, My Love...

2010-12-31T09:10:00.000-08:00

I love all things Goan - can't get enough of Goa. I think Kabhi Haan Kabhi Naa is my favourite movie.

I dragged my brother to Goa Portuguesa last night and lo and behold - we ran into Anjane. My brother nearly shit himself - I admit I was happy too. Anjane was my brother's classmate in Kirti. They met for the first time in Biology class and soon became very close friends. Anjane was from Khandesh, and spoke Ahirani, a language my parents grew up listening to. That made him a hit on Ganesh Chaturthi.

Back in his college days Anjane had a hostel room, and I had job that allowed easy access to alcohol and money - it was a match made in heaven. We became regulars at a dance bar called the Commander in Chembur. Anjane had never been in the big city before, we partied through the night.

The parties continued even after my brother and Anjane graduated. I was in Italy at the time and I missed the transition. The night I returned from Milan, I got a call from Anjane to come party with him again. I had picked up a few bottles of wine and I was in a mood to share, so I agreed. I figured we'd meet up at the Commander and take it from there. I was wrong.

My brother and I rode out to meet Anjane somewhere in Ballard Pier on a motorbike. I had no idea what we were doing in Ballard Pier, but I wasn't really bothered, I loved to travel the city at night. We passed yet another row of grain godowns and spotted something up ahead. We slowed down when we realised that those were the flashing lights of a Qualis and that a bus was parked half the way across the road. We came to a halt near the bus and then we saw the now very very late Irfan mian. Next to him, bleeding away into the next world was mian's sidekick Aslam (nee' Gururaj). A plainclothesman was wiping a Smith Wesson and placing it in Irfan mian's hand and an AK variant was already in Gururaj's hand. The blood from the bodies was still draining away in a pool that was growing and a strong smell of urine and shit filled the air. Some distance away, a plainclothesman was vomitting his guts out.

As we approached the Qualis, I saw Anjane standing next to Shirsat. Shirsat's face was often on the cover of the tabloids. Shirsat had his foot on the bumper of the Qualis and was in a quiet conversation with Anjane who was standing very rigidly. Shirsat had a standard issue Glock in an evidence bag and though I could barely hear what Shirsat was saying, Anjane was saying "Yes Sir..." to everything. I had no idea Anjane worked for Shirsat - I simply assumed he had gone home to Khandesh after graduating. My mind is blank as to how we ended up riding in the back of the Qualis after that and all I seem to recall is passing around the bottle of Pinnochio to everyone in the back of the car - including the constable, Phane - who just recently had been puking his guts out.

It was a night to remember after that. I had no idea that a Qualis could go that fast when the driver was blind drunk. Anjane took to the Pinnochio quite well, but felt the Barolo was too complex - it made sense it is actually meant to be had with a good piece of meat. At the party afterwards Anjane told us how they had hunted Irfan and Aslam for two weeks now. Apparently they had taken things too far recently and raped a schoolgirl from Mulund. The girl was related to a politician and that is when the shit hit the fan. That is why their names were on a black list. I was stoned out of my mind and I called Anjane, Shikari Shambu and my brother laughed so hard that the wine came out of his nose. The Shikari name stuck after that night. And we ended up at our usual place, where I fell in love with Nazia, the queen of the night at the Commander.

Now at the bar at Goa Portuguesa, I amused Anjane with stories of my rides in the Kabul Armed Police 's technicals. He was particularly amused about the incidents in Jalabad where we ran afoul of some private contractors and took fire from a "visiting Pakistani delegation". He asked me if I wanted to hang out after dinner, I agreed since I had nothing better to do.

We ended up in the back of another nondescript Qualis driving near Shivaji Park. About ten minutes into the ride, I realised Anjane was too focussed to be partying. It was a long shot - but I asked him casually who the mark was tonight and he told me Fotedar (who replaced Shirsat three years ago) was done putting up with Pavel. Fotedar was a bit more like Singh (who Shirsat replaced a decade ago), very taciturn and somewhat hands off but like his predecessor Fotedar was the attack dog that never stops.

Pavel - Pavel Petrovich - aka Uncle Sasha - the main supplier of "Russian Vodkas" to the rich and famous in Bombay. I knew Pavel - he was a good fellow in a general sort of way - it was really too bad it had to be this way. I told Anjane, I had heard he worked for the Rezident of Napean Sea Road. Anjane agreed, he had heard the same thing, but Fotedar was apparently worried that the "Vodkas" were all honey traps and there would be nothing but trouble from this. Apparently Fotedar and some people from Delhi had chatted up the Rezident, but he said very clearly that he didn't know Pavel and didn't care what happened to him. That seemed to close the book as far as Fotedar and Anjane were concerned. The formal order had been red-flashed to them from New Delhi a hour ago - while we were drinking at Goa Portuguesa.

I knew Pavel had a habit of taking one of the "Vodkas" out for a spin on his motorbike late at night. He drove it like a madman because there was no traffic and that impressed the girls. Anjane must have known this too, because we waited with the lights turned out near the Savarkar memorial. I felt the liquor dimming my senses, but I still had a strange feeling in my stomach.

Half an hour later, we saw a flash light go off in a building up the road and I heard the roar of a motorbike. Seconds later I heard a car start up and then there was the most terrible sound of metal crunching on metal. A loud bang followed, and Anjane started the Qualis.

We drove past the scene about a hundred yards up the street. It was just around a corner, Uncle Sasha lay sprawled near the road divider, his brains were spreading out on the tar. The vehicle that he collided with was nowhere to be seen. The "Vodka", the girl he was riding around with, was about twenty yards behind Pavel, she was gone too - her neck was turned in an impossible way. There was blood and mangled metal everywhere.

Anjane was stooped over the body and I stood numbed by the event. As I heard a siren in the distance, I turned to face the source of the sound. My mind seemed to fade and the world became quite foggy, but I made out the dim outline of a bus filled with Tetravals and it lurched to a stop ten feet from me.

Yantrixa-9 The Blessings of the Saint

2010-07-15T15:01:00.000-07:00

I have been here before. My aunt had sought a mannat here. My uncle was lying in a coma, and my aunt had run out of Gods to pray to. In her desperation, she came here on the day of the Urs. Somehow after the visit my uncle regained consciousness and my aunt came more regularly to pay her respects to the Saint of Mahim.

Amin is a member of the family. The family actually runs the shrine. The shrine is under the nominal management of a foundation with all sorts of trustees, but the family does the day-to-day work. I lied to Wagh, I know Amin quite well, we were in school together.

I stop briefly on Dargah road to pick up some flowers and offerings for the Saint. A bored looking police constable in an aging Qualis eyes me as he thumbs through a menu on his smart phone. A Tetravaal scanned the street behind me as I approach the check naka near the gates. I was made to pass through a backscatter detector array and about ten feet away two APR-113s stand mute - the only movement is a dim red dot scanning across their visors.

I am uncomfortable here and mind you I was the one that covered the first day they were came here. As tradition dictates, they too marched in the Urs procession and placed the first flowers on the grave of the Saint. It felt odd then - and it feels odd now.

As I turn my head towards the back of the street I spot the special services van parked near Afzal Sweet Centre. I look at my phone and sure enough I have no reception. The special services van makes sure that unless you have a bypass code, your phone is dead. There should be a couple of snipers on the roof tops - but I dare not look.

I make my way slowly through the gates, wash my feet and hands, and then I stand in line waiting for darshan. It takes an hour or so, and after I am done - I ask one of the caretakers for an audience with Amin. He is taken aback at first but then I give him my name and phone number and he walks away. A few minutes later he returns, and I am escorted to the Amin's office.

I enter the room and I see a woman and her young children sitting before Amin. Amin waves to me, and I indicate I will wait on the sofa in his office while he finishes what he is doing. The woman and children are Muslims from Konkan. I catch what appears to be the last few words of a long conversation, an agreement by Amin to support the children's education and after that is done, the visitors thank Amin and leave.

Amin comes over to me and we embrace. I haven't seem him for a year and after he asks his staff to bring us a cup of tea and some khari biscuits we settle into the sofas and begin talking. I relate to him my encounter with Wagh - and slowly Amin's face changes form a warm welcome to something darker and much wearier.

Amin: So Wagh knows about it too. It makes sense of course Nagvekar in Mahim Chowky must have told him. I think Nagvekar and him go some ways back.

Me: Yes, Nagvekar was the Coastal Inspector in Bankot when Wagh was the SP in Ratnagiri. He was transferred to some place in Marathwada after Wagh retired.

Amin: Hmm... Nagvekar was transferred to Mahim some years ago. He the guardian of the artifacts at Mahim now.

Me: So what is this about?

Amin: You just saw the family that was in here?

Me: The konkani family - that was just here?

Amin: (nodding) - they are victims of this Varun mess - unsung ones perhaps - but victims.

Me: victims? - how - rioting mein kuch hua kya?

Amin: No.. tetravaal killed the men in their family.

Me: What?!

Amin: Yes - and I have been to both John and Rakesh and both act like these people simply don't exist.

Me: That is odd... details hain?

Amin: Sure - in the middle of the night the Tetravaal barged into their houses and shot the men without warning - without notice of arrest - nothing whatsoever.

Me: But that doesn't make sense - they have a very clear protocol for weapons usage.

Amin: It was not followed.

Me: If that were the case - then we would all be dead now. So why only these men?

Amin: They had records. Some of them were in the older files as history sheeters.

Me: History Sheets of the old SB-CID kind? - when they used to prepare unified records of people with a propensity for bad acts? those are no longer maintained - everyone is tracked via biometrics - all prior offenses come up if your record is pulled. Most of the people with history sheets are too old to be considered active now. I am surprised those records are still around.

Amin: They must be around because several of the men killed were older. Some younger men were killed also, but mostly older ones.

Me: Do you have a sense of how many?

Amin: Hundreds per what I have seen or heard.

Me: I knew that people indulging in rioting were shot by the Tetravaal, but what you are describing is complete news to me.

Amin: No - when I first heard it - I had flashbacks of the Bhagalpur incidents - I didn't actually believe the victims, I thought how could this happen - in this day and age.

Me: I am not sure what to believe.

Amin: (Reaching into his table drawer - pulling out a USB drive) - here is a copy of everything I have found so far.

Me: Can I keep it?

Amin: Yes - it is relevant to the movie you are making. Someone somewhere has to give a voice to these people otherwise it is not fair.

Me: Hmm.... I would like to help if I can.

Amin:I would appreciate it... I am glad Wagh told you to come to me.

Me: Ahmmm... about that... can I ask a favour.

Amin: Sure... why not... anything.

Me: Don't tell Wagh I came here.

Amin:(smiling) why?

Me: You know why... don't make me say it.

Amin:(Laughing)... okay okay...

Yantrixa-8 Wagh and his Restobar.

2010-07-14T13:10:00.000-07:00

Wagh, of the curly mustache, formerly wore khaki - now nominally the owner of a restobar (whatever that is), but in spirit - an artist and part-time movie producer, and (if my friend who works near Shirin Talkies was to be believed) a full-time bookie/hawala trader.

Wagh - the sum of contradictions, born into a landed family near Panjim, married into a locally respected political clan, held a permanent government job with a steady paycheck... then subsequently quit the job - divorced and remarried - this time to a former Miss India Miss Universe. Does God-Only-Knows-What but is seen on page 3 of Midday almost every month and is at every major club in the city and in Goa.

Wagh - the life of the party - and his life seems like it was a party always...

It is difficult for me to imagine this is the same person who once intercepted the largest single consignment of cocaine ever to traverse Ratnagiri district. The story never made the news and remains buried to date. It happened before he retired... I think it is why he retired. He simply could not believe that they made him give it back and in exchange he got to keep his life.

It is rumoured that the men in khaki have an underworld of their own and Wagh was at the center of it. Wagh... heavily... heavily connected.

I was at his restobar with my brother. Wagh sometimes walks around the place and introduces himself to the patrons, who are mostly Maharashtrian upper middle class types. I was here because my brother (another bureaucrat by blood) loved it. The place is popular very with bureaucrats, theatre personalities and doctors, they can bring their wives and kids and still sip some beer and have aamty and bhaath afterwards and gab with each other while food is served. Like having a party in someone else's house.

It is a disgusting combination - frankly - but the things one does for family...

Wagh is garrulous, can get people to become too talkative. He managed to get my brother to spill the beans on who I was. Wagh probably knew who I was anyway and he was certainly sharp enough to know that I knew who he was. An odd situation, like being in one of those "Lego Star Wars Cantina" sequences you see on Youtube. You are Greedo, you know exactly what is going to happen, and you dread it, but there is no way to stop it, you feel like a block of plastic moving jerkily in world that seems familiar yet weird.

I wasn't too surprised when I was dragged off the table to the bar area to see Mrs. Wagh, who was entertaining some family friends from London there. A few polite exchanges later, Wagh and I were alone at the bar and the pumping began.

Wagh: So I hear you are making a movie?

Me: Yes, documentary on the Varun case.

Wagh: Really (feigning surprise - I am sure)... what is the name?

Me: Qayamat ke Din.

Wagh: Wow.. so what is the film going to say?

Me:(wow - talk about fast... ) I don't know yet..

Wagh: What?! how can you not know? You are the producer and director...

Me:(WTF is this? - seriously what is your angle?)... I am still collecting interviews with people. I don't have a full picture so far. Something unexpected happened.

Wagh: Everyone has a theory but no one seems to know what when wrong..

Me:(haan Madarchod!... what is your angle? why do you care?) What is you theory?

Wagh: Me?...

Me: Yes... how do you feel about all this?

Wagh: The bombing narrowed the options, people were scared and something had to be done. But whatever was done, I am not so sure if it was the best that could be done.

Me: Crime is down. People are saying that is a benefit.

Wagh: Yes that is true but there are other problems and this Varun case brings them to the fore.

Me: Like? (No... behanchod, now its your turn under the spotlight).

Wagh: Like the fact that if the Tetravaal are convinced that there is something to be done - then there is no way to unconvince them. And who decides how the Tetravaal operate? No one...

(Now I am even more confused. This is Wagh-the-life-of-the-Party I am talking to, where the fuck is all this coming from? this fellow lives in Pali Hill, since when does he care about this?.. I thought he was grilling me so that he could mouth off about my project to some media whore he bangs tomorrow night.. but this is completely weird.)

Me: So do you feel they have been high handed? did they do something to you?

Wagh: I was pulled over the other night at a checkpoint near Bandstand. I told them who I was and they wanted to check me for alcohol or drugs and they wouldn't take no for an answer. I have a right to refuse and they didn't want to back off. Me - drugs and alcohol - what a joke...

Me: So what happened?

Wagh: Nothing, they wrote me up a citation for obstruction. Me -- of all people - obstruction. Can you believe this? I was able to get it revoked but this behaviour is not good.

Me: You think the Varun incident was something like this at work? them being too mechanical in their response?

Wagh: Perhaps, it seems like a programming issue to me. They are programmed to enforce the law and they responded aggressively when they felt the situation was going out of hand.

Me: But they restored order in a few days. That is quite a feat given how fragile the peace has been in recent times.

Wagh: Okay but at what price?

Me: (disbelief that I am having this conversation with Wagh ...) err... a smaller price than the re-ignition of mass rioting, I think.

Wagh:... You know ... you need another perspective. You know Amin?

Me: Amin... of the Dargah Makhdoom Ali?

Wagh: Yes... you know him?

Me: I have said hi-hello to him once or twice.

Wagh: Go see him again..

Me: (umm... what the ... no no no ... I DONT take orders from you) He is very busy..

Wagh: I have his number, I will call him right now and arrange for a meeting tomorrow.

Me: umm... okay... (wtf..wtf...wtf... who set me up for this?)

Wagh: Hey ... look its Meera... come lets say hi to her.

(Meera - latest hot thing from Bollywood... reputed to be very painful to converse with... I need to get out of here before Wagh gets me to interview her too.. I might very well read in tomorrow's Midday how Wagh is actually producing and directing my movie.)

Me: Err.. actually I think my brother is wondering where I am.

Wagh: Oh... Sorry... I completely forgot.

Me: its okay, excuse me...

(fuck... fuck fuck fuck... what have I got myself into...)

Yantrixa-7: Back in Bombay

2010-06-29T10:59:00.000-07:00

I realised it is best to stay away from Delhi for the moment.

I got in touch with the family in the eye of the storm. I had to go through a friend who works at the Sakal - very hard core ghati but extremely intelligent and a very nice fellow. He lives in Hindu colony. I think Pawle's uncle lives there too.

The family lived across from Powai lake. One of those new overpriced high rise buildings. The husband and wife worked in software companies in SEEPZ, both well paid - middle class professionals, graduates from good universities. Their names are well known now, as is their son's name, but I am going to call them Gita, and Naresh in the hope that they can go back to the comforting anonymity of their lives prior to this madness.

Bombay has never been kind to immigrants, but what they have faced is stuff of nightmares - the very substance of hell. Like so many others they left their native Bihar to seek a better life elsewhere and Bombay - betrayed them.

Me: I know you have done this many times before, but can you tell me how it began..

Naresh: Well... I suppose it all started a week after the bombing. The riots had broken out and there was no way to go to the office. Mobs had gheraoed two of our buses and beaten up the drivers, and so we simply shut the office down to avoid further casualties. The Army came in some time after that, but we had seen things like this in our native place... Patna, so there was concern but we had no fear.

Gita: There was curfew and our bai, Imartiben - stopped coming to work also. I guess it only natural that she too feared for her safety. The schools shut down on the day of the blast itself.

Naresh: We heard reports of rioting and police firing in Sakinaka area and also near Kanjurmarg. We think Imartiben's family lived in that area. We hope they are well, we still have not heard from her.

Naresh: There was curfew outside also and we began to run out of food. There was a meeting of the residents association. Our neighbour had a curfew pass, he used to work for a local political party. We heard horrible stories about what was going on nearby from him. In the general body meeting, there was talk of petitioning for a relaxation of the curfew to permit families to purchase essential commodities. I don't know how the petition was to be made, I think it was probably going to be made via the local political party.

Gita: Then Varun fell sick. He had a fever, we had to get him to a doctor so we were hoping for a break in the curfew very badly.

Naresh: The Army commander in the area agreed to to a break in the curfew for two hours. Only one person per family was allowed to be out. I put Varun in my arms and walked into the Chandivali area where I heard a doctor's office had temporarily opened.

Naresh: I don't know what happened next, we were waiting in line at the doctor's office and suddenly a mob appeared and began attacking us.

Gita - (sobbing).

Naresh: I don't remember very much, I heard firing, and then I recall seeing the face of an Armyman near me. I saw Varun lying next to me and then I think I lost consciousness.

Gita - (still sobbing)

Naresh: I think the office was attacked by a mob, and the army fired on them. Varun and I both were hurt - we had deep knife wounds and severe burns. The army took us to Rajawadi hospital and from there after our neighbour located us with the help of his political contacts - we were shifted to Jaslok. When I was there police officers came by and asked me if I recalled anything - I told them I didn't. They also spoke to Varun. It seems he was able to see the faces of the people who attacked us.

Gita - (gets up an leave the room).

Naresh: We were in there for a long time. The city was paralysed, there were problems getting medicines and Varun's health deteriorated. He had some kind of fever that was not going away and I kept drifting in and out of consciousness. Gita somehow took care of us then.

Me: I am sorry, please tell me if this is too difficult for you..

Naresh: (looking over in the direction Gita just walked out in) No not me so much, I was unconscious for the most of it - she saw all this first hand - so she is not so comfortable with recalling such events.

Naresh: I began to recover a few months after the incident. I think around this time Varun's condition also began to show signs of improvement. The police who came to see him told me that the city was returning to normal and that a new type of policing platform - these Tetravaal units had been imported to help protect the city. Apparently Varun had identified the attackers and the police were hoping to build a case against them.

Me: So this was a few months after the bombing.

Naresh: Yes, Varun was still in the critical care facility in Jaslok but the danger to him was reducing. We were expecting to take him home as soon as the doctor's said he was doing well enough. The police were going to take a statement from him. The doctor's had told us that we would have to bring him back for a regular check up but it was looking much better.

Me: So ... when did the other incident happen?

Naresh: It was all nice and calm for a few months. Those tetravaal units were really keeping things under control. I had taken Varun to see his grandparents in Patna, and then we returned home. Varun became slightly ill again so I took him to Jaslok again, and as a precaution they admitted him. By this time the police had built up their case and came to Jaslok to record a statement incamera. They brought the books containing photos of the criminals and Varun pointed at the faces of those he recognised.

Naresh: A day or so after that, we were waiting for discharge papers to come through when suddenly a large commotion was heard down the hall. I didn't know what was happening but I instinctively tried to cover Varun. A number of men barged into the room that Varun was in. They all had pieces of cloth masking their faces, a number of them carried knives and other weapons. They pulled me off of Varun and beat me. All the while they were abusing Bihar and my Hindi background. They then took Varun in the arms and walked out the door. I lay on the floor bleeding, and I was not able to stop them. The rest of the people in the hall and the ward looked on helplessly. I later learned that two security guards at Jaslok had been killed by this group of people.

Me: Good God...

Naresh: God didn't come to my mind at the time. I could only think of Varun. The police arrived quickly and in the moments before I lost consciousness from the bleeding, I told them what had happened. ...

(phone rings ...:

Naresh: Excuse me, I have to get this..

(talks on the phone... and turns towards pawle and cyrus and asks them to turn the camera off. A few minutes later, he turns to me)

Naresh: It seems there is an emergency at the office, I have to go - some servers in the US have gone down and they want it looked at. Sorry...

Me: Oh.. no by all means go ahead.

Naresh: I am really sorry, maybe we can come back to the story some time next week?

Me: Yes, yes sure... no problem.. May be I can chat with Gita or Varun..

(Naresh looks unsure... and goes into the house. I can hear a raised voice it is female.. seconds later Gita bursts out of what looks like the bedroom...)

Gita: Please leave us alone... I don't want to talk about this. Varun is only a boy... why can't you people understand? Please we just want to be left alone...

Me: Ofcourse ma'am, I fully understand... what a terrible story!

Naresh: I am sorry, she is very upset.

Me: No, no - no reason to apologise, I should be the one saying sorry. I will take my leave right away - I am very sorry about the intrusion.

Pawle and Cyrus begin to pack up. About fifteen minutes later, we head for the door and Naresh sees us out of the house.

As I walk out the staircase, I realise - this is how Qayamat ka Din began...

Yantrixa-6: Delhi

2010-01-16T07:52:00.000-08:00

I have never like Delhi, I don't know why - I grew up in Bombay and Delhi doesn't make sense to me. As Siddarth Basu once said to the famed Mayank Austen Soofi, - there is a jiski laathi uski bhains culture in Delhi. I can't figure out where it comes from but I can't be bothered with it. The city is inherently not as cosmopolitan as Bombay. I don't know what else to say.

I parked myself in the Ambassador where I usually do. I had setup a meeting with an old friend in Metcalfe House but as I was busily picking through my sumptuous breakfast - when I realised the "thing" sitting across from me bundled in bandages and a plaster cast was Barsha.

You know people say terrible things about her, but honestly - I've found her to be perfectly decent. Starting a conversation with her - given her state proved difficult. Most of this nasty stuff started from that incident that was captured on the ATM video camera but I don't think it is fair to keep dragging her name through the mud for that.

Turns out that she was driving back from Meherauli late one night when she had some sort of altercation with a bunch of college girls driving an SUV. The girls pulled her off the road and beat her up and smashed her car. She had no idea who they were and apparently the Police didn't exactly believe her story. A social worker from the Crimes Against Women unit had come to see her to ask her if she was in an abusive relationship and it was only a call from her father that had prevented the Police from arresting her boyfriend on suspicion of battery.

I was shocked - in a bid to distract from the obviously distressing situation I told her what I was working on. What followed was one of the most bizarre and fortuitous conversations of my life.

Me: So that is it really. I think I might call it "Qayamat ka Din".

B(arsha): Nice catchy - I am jealous. I started developing something like that a few months ago but the MD wouldn't have any of it. I managed to get them to approve a related story but that too got shut down.

Me: Care to tell me what it was?

B: Sure - why not - its all ancient history now.

B: So that part where everyone thinks the Tetravaal are imported? - there is something funny going on there.

B: I decided to go poking around and I found out that the initial import proposal was shot down by Metcalfe House and yet somehow the whole thing went through. I thought they were overruled and most likely Daal me kuch kala hain. So I thought why not go talk to them? after Qayamat ka Din, I figured people might be more up to sharing. So I set up a meeting with a source there.

B: Now when I got there - the feeling was quite bizarre. The source denied all the stuff about Metcalfe House ever having objected to the import. That didn't make any sense either. If there was a time to say "I told you so" - it was now right?

Me: Yes that is strange.

B: I know - but the source was categorical - he denied that Metcalf had anything to do with refusing an import. After I pushed him for an hour, he finally said that the intelligence community had made the objections.

Me: The "Intelligence Community"? Who the hell is that?

B: That is what I thought also. So I went around poking and probing but everyone I spoke to told me that they had no idea what I was talking about. They all parroted the story about Metcalfe House stalling imports.

Me: That's weird.

B: So anyway after a few months of searching around, I finally came upon someone who might be able to clear this up. One of those residents of the 14th floor of Lodhi Road. I had an idea where he lived and so I caught up with him outside his house.

Me: Ooh.. that sounds very bold.

B: Yeah - turned out he was not amused. I fucked up - I didn't know that the 14th floor crowd has its own gorillas. He rounded on me in ten seconds after I asked him about the import issue. He began to question me, how did I know who he was, how did I find where he lived, why was I asking such questions, who sent me, what was my MD thinking... and so on. And seconds later he set the gorillas on my camera man and sound tech. They beat them senseless and they smashed up my support van. A fucking mobile parked one hundred feet away did nothing and after the incident was over they acted like I wasn't even there. They didn't even call an ambulance.

Me: Holy shit - seriously? what did the MD say?

B: Something sympathetic at first and then some time later the MD quietly informed me that I was not to poking around there again. I kept agitating for some action to be taken against these people but then I had that accident on Meherauli road and I have been on medical leave since.

Me: Wow.. I don't know what to say.

B: I know - I spoke to Manoj., I thought with his experience, he should know. I asked him if this was how people behaved. He said usually people were civil, but then if you got too close to something, then their hands were tied. He said that I should let it go lest I ended up like some guy called Hiren but when I probed he clammed up. Do you know what he is talking about?

Me: No .. no idea.

The conversation rolled back and forth and I kept my mouth shut for most of it. I am extremely lucky I met her.

I know exactly what old Manoj was refering to. I know all about Hiren and no I don't want to end up like him.

I think I am going to skip the meeting with the fellow at Metcalfe House, and go home. I really hate Delhi.

Yantrixa-5: John

2010-01-10T12:44:00.000-08:00

There are very few of John's kind that I can get along with - I tend to give them a wide berth - their obsession with paperwork drives me insane. John is one of a few notable exceptions. I met him at his house in Hyderabad estate. Pawle thought it would be nice to get a shot of us talking with the sea in the background, so we sat outside in the park.

Here is what he said -

J(ohn): Why do you want do this now? the matter is under investigation as we speak - so it may be premature.

Me: By the time the editing and everything is done, the documetary will be timely.

J: Okay - but then atleast remember that these are tentative comments and frankly my memory of some events isn't at its best.

Me: That is okay - you have a lot of work on your hands now - so I will show it to you before it goes to the editor. So tell me what you recall.

J: Well... we never seem to have enough people in the office. The official phone book has been growing with each year I have been in service here - and every year we sense a shortfall. Information flow between so many people is quite a problem. Ultimately it all has to go through my desk and so I get the worst of it.

Me: So all of this went past you?

J: Ofcourse - I was there from A to Z. I am still there.

Me: Then you are the best one to tell me what happened.

J: I don't about that - but it is clear - unprepared as we are for the next thing - we were knocked out by the VT station bombing. The corporation building houses an enormous amount of information on the city and most of it is in the minds of the people working there. We lost - exactly - *ALL* of them that day. So from that point on - my office became the de-facto corporation. I think I slept in my office for months afterwards. There was so much going on for a while Thambi (Gen. Ghosh's 2iC) had a desk in my office - we used to sleep on the floor together. My assistant's family was killed in the blast, I did not even have time to go for the Uthmana a month later - the poor man was with me al the time despite this horrible situation. I tell you - whatever media writes about us - is is unfair and utter lies.

Me: It was that overwhelming..

J: Yes yes... I simply gave what people were still around me a letter of authority and I told them to solve whatever problems they saw but to do everything in their power to stay alive. When the CP's motorcade was challenged, two of my colleagues were riding in the car behind. The IED killed both of them and their driver. There was no time to do a proper funeral, so we just drove the bodies to Chandanwadi and burnt them there - young boys both of them - fresh from Mussorie. I sent my son with to their families with the ashes. It was terrible.

Me: Good Lord.

J: I can't tell you the sense of despair we felt. There was clearly a refugee crisis, people were simply spilling out of the city - Vashi, Vasai, Thane, everywhere there were impromptu camps appearing due to displaced people. No one felt safe in the city. We had to organise the distribution of food and water. Criminal groups tried to seize control of the water and food supply. Twice in one week, entire food convoys were looted and pretty much on a daily basis criminal gangs were found to be hijacking water tankers and putting locks on municipal taps. There was a thriving black market in all sorts of goods and at the same time people were starving in the city because these people were hoarding. A walk through the refugee camps was completely stunning - there were manourished children everywhere you looked. Dead bodies lined the street - providing medical services was next to impossible even with the Army lending a hand. Electric supply in more than half the city was gone. And the rioting would not stop. It seemed like we had fallen into a bottomless pit.

Me: And all that led up to the proposal?

J: Yes - it did. Rakesh was facing a simlar situation. At my end it was the task of managing the ongoing civilian disaster and the relief supplies, and at his end the concern was law and order restoration. The first signal to us was when Gen. Ghosh told us that he was done with this - it was demoralising his men. Our ... and everyones human limits were stretched beyond belief. Rakesh's solution made sense even though neither of us believed it would go through. We really expected to be relieved the next day.

Me: What happened in Delhi?

J: Well, we went there and we were pretty much dragged off the flight to the Rajiv Gandhi Center. The whole CCS and most of the NSC people were there. We gave our report but the audience was non committal. It was referred to a special meeting of the NSCS. As we waited outside the meeting room, we tried to strategise on how to sell the idea to the NSCS, but actually we were pretty dejected. After that there was a marathon 36 hour session with the NSCS - we talked and went over everything that had happened and there was a major discussion on things that we proposed.

Me: How did the NSCS recieve it?

J: Strangely they didn't think it was a bad idea. There was support but then as the meeting progressed the people from Metcalfe House said it was not safe to deploy a foreign platform in the country like this. Slowly they turned the people to their point of view. We though it was gone - there was no system like this India. Tetravaal had invested a decade of focussed research and drawn people from all over the world to build this system. There was no way in which Metcalfe wallahs could come up with something close.

Me: And then somehow it was approved?

J: Yes - it was approved less than a week after we gave the presentation, I think the decision came from the very top - only that could have cleared all the hurdles.

Me: But the reservations at Metcalfe house?

J: They must have been addressed, I guess - I don't know you should ask them.

Me: Once the decision was taken - things went smoothly?

J: Quite smoothly compared to what we were facing earlier. Normalcy was restored quickly and there was a positive upsurge among the population. Also we were in a better place to keep things running now that we were in the picture for so long.

Me: What happened in the Varun Mishra case?

J: Very sad case - kidnapping had become a booming business during the riots. This particular child was abducted from the hospital where he was recuperating from burns he had in the riots. When he was kidnapped, the old fears returned and the incident took on a communal colour. There was a rumour that he had been kidnapped by his attacker to prevent their identification. That is how the tensions rose again and the second round of rioting followed.

Me: So what happened - Qayamat ke Din kya hua?

J: Qayamat ke Din? - is that what they are calling it now? Judgement Day?

Me: That is the popular term for it - yes.

J: I can't talk about the matter - it is sub judice.

Me: And the Tetravaal are safe? even now?

J: I don't see why not. The question is would we be safer without them.

J: Ah.. I see Balram has brought the tea. You know - the one thing I have come to appreciate after all this is a good cup of tea next to the sea.

So - there you have it. No one wants to talk about it.

Pawle had never seen the estate before, he was taken a little aback. He muttered something nasty about the opulence of the babus, and Cyrus agreed. Figures, both Cyrus and Pawle had spent their lives in counter insurgency and counter terrorism - they had never seen a soft bed much less a cup of tea by the sea in their entire service. No wonder they quit early.

All roads point to Delhi, the city of mysteries. I may have to go there. I feel about as prepared for that as Shivaji on the day he accepted an invitation from the Mughal Saltanat.

Yantrixa-4: Rakesh

2010-01-04T16:05:00.000-08:00

When I came to his office some years ago, he had several people in there. There were two people that carried his "phone" - apparently that is how many people he gave his number to. I was expecting more of the same - but now there was no one. The desk was clear, except for a solitary computer and flat screen TV on the wall. He looked relaxed, there were no circles under his eyes - in fact he looked like he was finally getting a full night's sleep. Also missing was the customary line out the door of people begging favours of some kind or the other. From the chit-chat before we set up I gathered he had more time nowadays, he actually went to see a movie with his wife and kids - I was stunned, I didn't know he ever went home.

Cyrus and Pawle were obviously in awe of him. To be expected - they too wore khaki until a few years ago when they decided that they moved out to other more lucrative worlds.

I have turned down several invitations to wear pressed clothes but it is not out of a dislike for that world.

If there was anyone who awe and respect did not seem touch or make unhinged - it was Rakesh.

He knows how to get people talking...

R(akesh): So you are back in the city. I heard about your exploits in Afghanistan. You are lucky to be back in one piece.

Me: It was only a documentary.

R: Some documentary, I hear there is a price on your head. What did you do in Jalalabad?

Me: The camera took some pictures, it didn't go down well in Pindi... any way meri baat chodo, yeh Tetravaal ka kya haal hain.

R: Haal - toh theek hain. I mean you can see the improvement everywhere.

Me: People are scared.

R: But no one is saying that the department is ineffective any more.

Me: How did things change?

R: Change was going to happen after the VT station bombing. There was concern that the department was powerless to stop things. The riots made it worse. Everyone was saying bad things about it.

Me: And so you came up with this solution?

R: And what else was there to do? what was the media writing? Do you know how many books have been written about the VT station bombing? My men estimate that about 50,000 different accounts of the events have been penned and mind you no one recalls a single good thing being said about the department in any of them.

Me: It has that much impact - the bombing?

R: Yes, I recall it clearly, I have never seen so much mangled flesh in my life. I had witnessed Laskhar's handiwork before, but this was like walking into a street in Beirut. The hole was 250 feet wide - the entire front facade of the corporation building was gone and the Victoria building was on fire. All I could see was flesh - the entire crater was gradually filling up with blood and mashed flesh from the bodies that lay on the periphery. There were body parts on everything. The stench was unbelievable. We lost power here after the blast shorted the AC lines in VT. I walked there no less than twenty minutes after the truck bomb went off. Even today less than half the bodies have been identified - the blast wiped out two restaurants and the market - we could not even put the bodies together in most cases. People just assumed that their loved ones were dead. We just dug pits and dumped body parts in there and burnt them with gasoline. That is enough to shake anyone's faith - the rioting was no surprise.

Me: So the bombing's impact and the riots and the pressure on the department all came together

R: Yes - a combination - during the riots I did not sleep for a week. Two others had been on their feet continously in the control room for 90 hours at a stretch, they suffered a heart attack in the PCR and we waited for almost an hour before we could get them some medical help - they died in the hospital because the doctors were all busy dealing with riot victims. It was like being in a warzone. So yes there was a lot of pressure.

Me: all that made you decide that the Tetravaal would solve the problem.

R: Not at first, actually I didn't know what to think. I spent almost a month trying to think what the way out was. I knew the whole world was watching us, and if we didn't have a solution, people would see a weakness an strike. There was simply no way that we could be everywhere at once, and we simply could not see everything. I did the best I could, John understood what I was doing and helped - without his help none of this would have been possible.

Me: So you and John wrote this together?

R: I wrote it, John gave his ideas and then we both walked it to Delhi.

Me: What happened in Delhi?

R: I thought they would throw out us on to the street. Before the trip I told my wife and kids to thinking about packing out bags, I was expecting a transfer but oddly enough that didn't happen. As it turned out - they didn't have any answers up there either. Delhi is a fortress, but no one had a clue what to do down here.

Me: So they approved it then itself?

R: No it was rejected, the objection came from the residents of Metcalfe House, they said a foreign made system like this cannot be deployed on our soil. All that swadeshi stuff was brought out and as you know - people become uncomfortable with that thought very quickly. So at that time both John and I thought - we are dead - this is dead - nothing is going to happen. We pleaded our case with the anyone that would hear us but we didn't think anything was going to come of it. So both came back dejected, we had known each other since the Yavatmal days, so both of us thought - chalo this is it - we are going back to Yavatmal now.

Me: But..

R: But then a week later, I got a call from John, he said someone higher up had made a decision - and it was a green light. I spent the next week getting in touch with the Tetravaal representatives and discussing the details of their systems.

Me: So the objections were set aside.

R: It is best if you ask them what happened to their objections. Delhi is a mysterious place to me.
Me: Okay so then what happened?

R: Well, six months later the first shipment of the bipeds landed in Nhava. They took a week to assemble and we actually set up a main base for them in Uran. The airport offered us land. It was a small facility but it has grown quite a bit. I think we first deployed a unit in Azad Maidan for showing the flag and some testing, but a month later, Malabar Hill, Navpada, Kalachowki ... one station in each Zone had a detachment of some 20 bipeds reporting to an SI. After that a year later, we had 5 detachments of bipeds per station reporting to a head constable, 2-3 detachments of specials reporting an ASI, and a detachment of APR-113 per station reporting to an SI. Induction was quite fast.

Me: Yes - any problems.

R: No no it went smoothly. The interface was compatible with what our people were comfortable with. We can see everything from the PCR so it was a huge boost and results were visible immediately. The public response was very positive - especially to the APR-113 units. There was a genuine sense of relief in the people.

Me: What happened in March?

R:A sectarian flare up.

Me: You are referring to the Varun incident?

R: Yes, the kidnapping caused a major communal rift and violence erupted.

Me: So how did the Tetravaal perform?

R: Very well actually - we were amazed by the manner in which they handled situations. They saved many lives - a few units were damaged but mostly we have been able to repair them.

Me: And on March 13? - Qayamat ke din?

R: The events of that day are under investigation and I refuse to speculate. The experts are reviewing the records - we will know the answers soon.

I have never seen Cyrus and Pawle gush so much, but Rakesh is a born leader - he inspires respect and confidence. I think a lot of it is the way he says things - it is reassuring but still somehow accurate.

I'll talk to John next and Delhi... a city of mysteries.

Yantrixa-3: Mita

2010-01-03T15:35:00.000-08:00

When I walk up to her door here in Deonar, I always have to remind myself that Mita is what I call her - it is a short-form of her long name that I grew up with. We have known each other since school, our paths parted when she went on to do her doctorate, and I walked into a job.

Mita reads into the city's ways - she sees things I do not. Her views are unlike Hussain's, he is a poet - she is a scientist - more clinical - almost antiseptic.

Meeting her is fun, but this time it was all business. It felt like we were discussing a terminally ill patient.

Here is what caught my eye.

Me: so what do you ...

Mita: Feel? about this ? I don't feel anything. Hussain is going off the deep end. I am not a creative writer - I am bound to fact.

Me: So what _do_ you think - then..

Mita: One just has to accept it - challenging it will prove pointless. Scientifically - it is intriguing but one has to accept it.

Me: Scientifically?

Mita: Look it is not clear why the machines behaved the way they did. Everything we understand about human society does not apply to them - and yet they did something we did not expect - to a scientist that is interesting.

Me: Okay lets forget about the machines - what about the people?

Mita: The people are responsible for this state of affairs - that I am certain of. Any society or social order when put under extreme stress responds by releasing the stress in form of extreme views. The last few years have been very stressful, the number of people putting in for psychiatric treatment or reporting maladies of the mind has risen to astronomical levels. That is why we are susceptible to extreme thinking.

Me: But why are we here... how did we get here.

Mita: Oh you know the answer to that - we let our fears get the better of us. When that bomb went off in VT at rush hour and left a 200 foot crater. The edge of the bomb's kill zone became the social boundary. The sense of surety, of comfort that people placed in the disorder they saw around them - vanished. People became mentally hollow - fears and nightmares filled the vacuum that was created when rationality departed.

Mita: That bomb explosion changed the public mindset. The public no longer believed that they were protected or safe. Once that fence was breached - everyone did whatever they felt was necessary to protect themselves. The rioting was a higher level - a communal manifestation - of the personal fears. Hindus massacred Muslims because they believed that this bomb was the work of Pakistanis acting with local Muslim collaborators. Muslims massacred Hindus because they felt this bomb was the work of Brahminical Hindus intent on sparking a Muslim genocide. Action and reaction - two sides of the same coin.

Mita: People began to believe the worst about each other. People that had lived in harmony as next door neighbours began to suspect each other and launched progroms against each other. Each group went after its perceived adversary or peer competitor, because they percieved that the sense of security that accompanied their position in the social ladder was gone and they had nothing more to lose.

Mita: The bloodletting damaged everyone - we all heamorraged here. The bravado and tough sounding tone of the community leaders was evidence of this. No one won here and we all knew it. Fear turned people into ghouls. Half of those turning up for psychiatric care at municipal hospitals are people who participated in the riots - they all speak of nightmares where they are tormented by the screams of the people they murdered.

Me: So fear made us do it?

Mita: Fear triggered a social collapse. What happened afterwards was a consequence of a collapse of social order. It is not novel - we have seen this before in Afghanistan. The Taliban were born in the chaos that followed the collapse of the Najibullah regime.

Me: but this is India - Bombay no less - not Afghanistan. People here do not have tribal memories...

Mita: (laughs) tribal instincts have nothing to do with tribal identity or memory. This kind of small group dynamics appears to be hardwired into the human mind. It may be a distant echo of our past in more primitive societies. It appears even outside this grand backdrop - in companies, and bureaucracies, as factions. Just because we live in a city and ride a metro to work on a computer doesn't make our psyche any less susceptible. When something like this happens, people asked themselves a simple question - "who do I really trust" ... and the answer most often came back to a small group of people. That is why what we saw resembled tribal warfare in Afghanistan and that is why our reaction was to accept - no sorry - to welcome the Tetravaal into our midst.

Me: And what now?

Mita: Nothing - it is what it is - accept it.

Me: Accept it? - just like that? what about..

Mita: It means nothing. The world we are in is very different from the world we came from.

Me: But our norms, our traditions, our ways, evolved over thousands of years..

Mita: thousands? really? the city hasn't been here that long - things will have to change.

And that was it - Cyrus was blunt and asked me what the point of that was. Pawle didn't understand where Mita was coming from either.

I had to admit one thing - Mita - was never one to hold back.

Yantrixa-2: Hussain

2010-01-03T12:30:00.000-08:00

Met Hussain at his office in Maker's Chambers today. Nice office, one truly gets a sense of how long he has been in this profession. Pawle has enough footage, and Cyrus complained about the sound but in the end we did okay.

He is old now - but I have read Hussain's work since I was a child - some of my earliest memories are of Hussain's essays on the city - he has been and continues to be my guide. Some say Hussain is like a ghost, he is invisible and he sees everything - others say he is a churail (witch) who knows how to get men to follow his words. I think they are not far off - some invisible tie binds Hussain to this underworld - this necropolis.

Here is an excerpt of the interview.

me: Hussain, what is your impression of all this?

H(ussain): Well, you know... I hate to say it - but I have been expecting something like this. The VT station bombing shook the foundations of the city. The Police, the Mantralaya babus, the media heroes, the residents of the hills - it spared no one. It was bound to happen after that.

me: So how did it start? I mean a lot happened after the bombing... from there to last year it is a long journey? are you planning to write a book?

H: Who me? no no I am done book writing... after the last book everyone has pretty much told me to put the pen down, but you are correct it is quite a story from what I have heard.

(long pause as Hussain stares out the window towards the sea)

H: It started according to some in Delhi, someone in the Lal Qila said "this is ridiculous - you hijdas in Mumbai are making us all look like fucking idiots - do something" and that kick travelled down the GoI's collective backside until it ended up in Police Mukhyalaya here. Now as usual, there was some inertia there also, but after some back and forth the decision was made to import the Tetravaal platforms and so the proposal was made and sent up stairs. You should ask Rakesh and John for the details - they will know more than me.

me: but wait... tell us a little background.

H: Background - see it is kind of obvious - this city is a disaster in progress and every once in a while that fact become obvious to everyone. A large enough piece falls off from the city and then we can't ignore the fact that it is all falling apart. Over the last two decades, the migration into the city from the countryside has gone through the roof and the city's economy has barely kept a pace. The government is not keeping its head above the water. Rich people want one thing, poor another, some want roads others want water... it is endless. If you try to do anything everything - everyone tries to stop you. The government is pretty much useless.

H: So that is how this began - the blast killed a thousand or so but the ensuing rioting, police and private firings killed seven times as many and every community claimed to have been selectively victimised. Eventually the Army was called in and Gen. Ghosh was able to restore order but as far as the eye could see - trouble boiled below. A lasting peace was nowhere in sight.
H: The pressure at the patherwali was intense. Everyone was pointing a finger at the police and there was growing weariness there. Most of the force had thrown its hands up and large parts of the city were no go areas. Twice or thrice the CPs motorcade was challenged once with a small IED. It took the Army to restore confidence. After a month or so Gen. Ghosh indicated he had no intention of occuping the city forever and that the local machinery should takeover. But there was simply too much information and human beings could only be expected to do so much. So that is how the proposal came into existance. It was a child of the Devil himself, created in his own image - created from all our failings as human beings - we are all to blame.

me: that is how the machine came into our universe?

H: No... my friend, that is how we came into the universe of the machine. We brought our homes, our lives and our loved ones into its world - and we left our own forever.

me: Wait wait... now the proposal what happened there?

H: I think John and Rakesh walked it straight to Delhi and there they encountered the strangest opposition. No one thought to say - no because it was not a good idea - as Rakesh or John expected. Instead they all supported the basic idea but there was opposition to an imported platform.

me: Imported? Tetravaal is still imported.

H: No no ... check your sources.

me: Strange...

H: Life is stranger than fiction no doubt. So eventually after wading through a dozen meetings over the course of a week - John and Rakesh returned defeated and tired. They thought this was the end. To their surprise... it was not... it was in fact ... the beginning.

me: So Delhi approved it.

H: Yes... and then a year later the first Tetravaal units marched into the city. Nominally under the PCR's control. Mind you ... after the bipeds came the "Specials" and the "APR113" units which were stationed alongside the SRP at critical locations and even LA Battalions were reinforced.

H: In under a year - their strength numbered in the thousands. In six months the city had almost 350 officers per 100,000 people - almost 50% *more* than the global average. Mind you - we had a third of that and now the force was now two-third Tetravaal bipeds. We went from being an chronically weakly monitored area to the most heavily policed zone in the world. An induction on a scale not witnessed before.

me: People saw it as an improvement? ofcourse.

H: At first, people welcomed it - I know of thousands of pujas that were performed on the incoming units. There was satyanarayan ritual held at Walkeshwar and prayers were said in most other religious institutions thanking the Lord for bringing these units for our safety. The Hindus spoke of a Vanar Sena that would keep up safe - the Muslims praised it as a Lashkar Ababeel, the christians called it an army of Angels.

me: So we walked - no ran into the Universe of the Machine.

H: yes .. ran screaming in joy into its arms.

me: And then what happened?

H: Ask Rakesh or John... they will tell you... Pandemonium rose from the ruins of our faith.

.....

That is vintage Hussain - imagery - you see what happens with his words. He may be a witch or a ghost, but he knows what he is talking about.

I am on my way to see Mita at TISS.

Yantrixa-1: The first day of work

2010-01-03T09:37:00.000-08:00

Started today at the channel. Didn't think it would come to anything but it seems kakkaji's word finally paid off. The MD of the channel liked the idea of the documentary I proposed and support form her swayed the editor. Apparently there is still some opposition - partly from others on the channel's payroll, but also from invisible people who see everything from great heights. There is fear that discussing the events of last year will bring forth misery - the entire Prasar Bharati board apparently called the MD and told her to think it through - luckily she held her ground.

As they say in the language of the Gods, Subhashya Sheegram!

I have set up meetings with Hussain and Mita today and Rakesh and John tomorrow.

Pawle will carry the camera and Cyrus will handle sound and make up.

The journey has begun ... hold on tight.

Ani

End of Series

2010-01-03T09:17:00.000-08:00

Dear Friends,

The previous post concludes the Thar Incident series. For over a year now I have struggled with how to proceed with this story, and now I think it is best left the way it is.

I hope you enjoyed it.

I would like to present a new story - which is inpsired by Neill Blonkamp's work in District 9 and in his short clips Tetravaal and Yellow. I have also become quite enamoured with Anurag Kashyap and S. Hussain Zaidi's work in Black Friday so you will likely see shadows of that in there also.

The new series will be called "Yantrixa" (pronounced Yun-trix-sha) - a new word formed by the contraction of "Yantra" and "Antrixa" which I define to mean the "the universe of machines". I hope that this new series will speak to a number of topical issues.

The style of presentation for "Yantrixa" will be different from the style used for the Thar Incident. "Yantrixa" will be presented as a journal - a living story by a narrator who is also a participant in the story. This breaks with the third person narrative commonly used in Indian story telling and is more in line with the emerging trends in twitter (and other texting) based novels that are steadily making their presence felt on the literary scene.

Here is hoping for the best,

A. S.

The Thar Incident - 15

2007-02-12T13:47:00.000-08:00

Continued from Part 14.

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

The NSA had turned and walked out the door.

Dominic found himself staring at the door - Strategize with what?!... his mind raced. They had a whole lot of nothing ... in terms of information - there was blank sheet - who were the Aliens that the Americans made contact with? where did they come from? - how do you communicate with them? and how do you verify what they say... sure they tell you they are from planet X ... how do you verify something like that? ...

Dominic recalled the conversation he once had with a friend at during his engineering school days. At that time Dominic used to write the science fiction section of the student newspaper... and his friend who was training to be a physicist thought this was a ... well.... not an occupation for people of technical learning to do. After reading one of Dominic's pieces in the morning his friend had shouted out to him across the breakfast table in dorm... You know man ... this whole science fiction alien thing is total bullshit ... it all just human dramas set to the backdrop of space - even giants like Arthur C. Clarke, Ray Bradbury and Issac Asimov ... its all about Humans meeting other Humans .... it is such shit... I mean, seriously, wanting to fuck someone from another culture is one thing but... from an another planet is a bit much. Forget travelling between planets - merely recieving a meaningful signal from another planet is pretty much impossible. The earth is a tiny speck in the sky - any signal emanating from any other point in the sky would expand radially outwards. The earth would capture only as much of the signal as its solid angle permitted it to - the farther source from earth - the less signal it would recieve... distinguishing it from background noise would impossible - even if you knew what the exact communication protocols used were. Without the protocol in hand... even if you recieved a signal you would be hard put to not dismiss it as noise... and over and above that we have the sun to deal with - I mean imagine the noise that makes - a giant fusion reactor a few hundred times the size of the planet itself that the spews off all manner of radiations ... ultimately there is no escaping the laws of physics... even in space.

Ultimately there is no escaping the laws of physics ... even in space. The phrase had stuck in Dominic's mind. As the years had gone - Dominic had often wondered, how many of these universal physical laws ... were really laws... or merely products of our own inability to measure things that voilated these laws..

It was only moments later that Dominic realised that Khalid and Amit were staring at him with the same intensity that he was staring at the door that the NSA had walked out of...

"Kya Dominic... kahan kho gaye..?" drawled Amit from the back of the room and even Khalid bore a curious look on his face.

Dominic turned towards Amit and spoke.. "Yaar, I was wondering, how do we verify anything the Aliens tell us?... for a moment ignore how they us.... but say they tell us something ... how do we know they are telling the truth. There has to be some verification mechanism."

Khalid cut in tersely.. " Sure.. but what can we verify... hamare pass toh spaceship etc.. nahi hain... - Tomorrow they say that we are from Orion... we can't go there and verify it.."

Dominic retorted "precisely... sure they say this is our spaceship it travels through interstellar space ... how do we verify that?"

Amit picked up a magazine on the table in front of him.. "So Dominic... since you have framed the question... I assume you have an answer too..?"

Dominic smiled and said ... "not exactly " ... " but assume for a moment the Aliens are real. The natural question then is ... how do they travel across space? - we can't do it - even if we chalk of things to biological differences - they must know things we don't."

Khalid cut in again .."Such as what?"

Dominic replied " Like laws of physics that we are unaware of... or atleast they should be able to tell us where our laws break down... "

Khalid and Amit eyed each other... "Laws of Physics? - you mean the crap they teach in high school? - those laws... those don't break down..." said Amit.

Dominic thought for a few seconds before he replied ..." Well... some laws have to breakdown... may be not conservation laws they teach in school ... but perhaps other held notions that may be specific the little bowl of space-time that we live in... must be wrong.. or at least only approximately true on the interstellar scale.."

Khalid and Amit both open up at once ... "What?!"

Dominic gave startled look before he realised what had happened ..."We have natural laws ... right? based on our observations of things... Sure we can measure things like energy and momentum and we can say ... yes these are conserved quantities and based on that notion we can explain a number of other phenomena we observe. and because of that ... we can make the claim... that the conservation of energy and momentum are... universal laws... However... the flip side... what we have not measured ... we cannot make laws for."

Dominic saw the puzzlement on their face .."so that is how we know they are real Aliens... we ask them to show us new and hitherto untested laws of nature"... he paused ... "Only when we independently test and verify the laws they inform us about - do we accept their claim as being genuine."

Amit began to look back at the magazine in his hand - "Sure if they give us time to do such a thing... we can do it.."

Khalid had also finally understood what Dominic was driving at - "Okay ... in principle that seems fine... since we have no real alternatives anyway.."

Khalid continued... "The more immediate problem is .."

Now Dominic cut in .. "that how do we talk to them in the first place... yes I know".

Amit quipped... "There is no air in space so they aren't going use voice .. so using normal linguistic tools is out..."

Dominic continued where he left off.. "Come to think of it - we are probably the same to them as the amoeba are to us... so my guess is that they would communicate with us in a similar fashion.. electrochemical signalling of some kind.."

Khalid looked at him.. "So how do we convince them not to kill us.."

Dominic stared quietly at Khalid and wondered ... why on earth had he left engineering school and gone into the business of killing people... such a lot of time wasted either killing someone or wondering about how someone was trying to kill him. Dominic imagined what his life would have been... a simpler life with a day job, a wife - some kids, a house in Bombay... a cup of tea in the morning, office at 9, a bit of oogling at the secretary, some flirting with interns, a lunch cooked by the wife, some timepass before afternoon tea and then a jarring ride in the local train to get home followed by mind numbing harassment from his kids... a much much simpler life.. no kill or be killed nonsense....

Amit spoke to break the uncomfortable silence.. " I agree with Khalid... this communication protocol is the most difficult thing ... if it some complicated electrochemical scheme they use... we may not be able to maintain security in our communications".

Khalid spoke .."but why assume it will be electrochemical.." That sparked off a retort from Dominic and then one from Amit... and it went on like that for hours.

The lengthening shadow of the peepal tree outside the house announced the arrival of the evening. This had been a long session, not that anyone was really keeping track of time. Dominic had done most of the talking, Amit and Khalid had just put in their two cents from time to time. They were all tired but they struggled on. The discussion kept going round and round the basic question, how to screen the information about previous contacts from this new one.

In reality the question was more complicated, no one knew what the Aliens were capable of doing to a single human being's psychology. It seemed plausible that the E.T.s might have some way of remotely tracking the production of stress related chemicals, or perhaps even of detecting changes in muscular tension in facial muscles. Alternatively it was possible that they might even have ways of dulling the neurological activity and induce a stupor of sorts. These techniques were currently in vogue among the intelligence communities of various countries as means of extracting useful information.

If the E.T.s got wind of the fact that the Indians were hiding something, they would focus their strengths on getting information out of the Indians, that was an unpleasant prospect. Alternatively if the Americans got wind of the fact that the Indians were hiding something they would be very keen to find out what the Indians knew and they would use all the means at their disposal to get the Indians to cough it out. With each iteration in the discussion, the risks seemed multiply.

Dominic was of the opinion that for the risk to be minimal, actual contact should be carried out by a team of people who had no knowledge of previous contacts. This way if they were captured or subject to some form of mental scanning, they would be disposable. Khalid and Amit initially disagreed as this would add unnecessary gaps into the process of contact but over time they came around to Dominic's point of view.

After another round of discussions it was decided that the communication with the contact team would be carried out in a screened fashion so that none of the team members would know the true identities of the controllers.

Another risk that surfaced in the discussions was the possibility of the contactees being infected with some form of subversive thought. A number of options were available for keeping track of subversive tendencies ranging from regular interviews to sensory deprivation. Whatever the exact choice of options, clearly a mechanism would have to be devised to continously check for the possibility of subversion.

It was at this point in the discussion Amit asked a question that had been bothering him for a very long time...

"What would these Aliens want from the Earth now? or ever? ..."

Dominic replied faster than anyone anticipated, "There are really three things - which are in abundance on this planet: liquid water, labour and ofcourse a replenishable supply of complex carbon-hydrogen compounds, abundant food if your diet is carbon based..."

Khalid cut in, " That doesn't make sense to me. Labour utilisation is possible only on the planet itself, preferably on a specific landmass - otherwise the cost of transporting this labour is too high. The same applies to water, yes we have plenty of it here but how do we get it off the planet? and so also for food. If their demands for either of these things were significant, we would notice this publicly... there must be something else they are after here..."

Dominic thought for a second "okay .. what about low abundance in general? Ozone, some rare earth stuff, heavy isotopes of lighter things -Deuterium, Tritium C-14? "

Khalid spurted out .. "but space will have much more of those..."

Dominic replied ," Maybe.. but it may be cheaper to extract it here"

Khalid stuck to his case .. "If they wanted it so badly - keeping it out of the public eye would have been hard..."

Dominic cut in "maybe they are mining it and we don't know about it because we don't see their activities - I mean we don't know what is going on underground or the seas or very high up in the sky.. so in theory .. at the very least we have a giant mount of molten iron and other magnetic materials and god-only-knows-what-else in the earth's core... if someone took some of that how would we know?"

"Great.. so we have no idea why they are here..." drawled Amit.

Dominic looked at him sourly..." I feel it has to be water... there is so much on this planet - if they were taking some away - we simply wouldn't notice.."

Khalid looked unconvinced - this was not going as planned... there were simply too many unknowns in situation.

Amit yawned... and that reminded Khalid that they hadn't had a meal in the entire day... he reached for the phone and called up some food.

The Thar Incident - 14

2006-12-20T13:43:00.000-08:00

Continued from Part 13.

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

The 2nd Lt. was on his first tour of the Northern LoC. This was his first visit to posts on the Kargil area, he was still a little out of breath from the climb but he was doing his best to look sharp in front of the men. Even as a freshie he had to admit that this was by far the most amazing view he had seen in his life. As the Lt. approached the sangar, the men had all tumbled out and saluted the 2nd Lt. as he walked past them. The R/T man stood some distance away. The 2nd Lt. really didn't know how things worked here, which is why he was surprised when the civilian appeared from inside the sangar.

The men looked unfazed, but the 2nd Lt. marched up to him, and staring straight at him asked the obvious question.

"Who are you?"

the civilian replied.. "Amit."

"Amit who?"

the reply, "actually its only - Amit"

"What are you doing here?"

the reply, "civilian contractor"

"at 20,000 ft? for whom?"

the reply "for Mr. Sinha".

"Mr. Sinha who..?"

the reply "Mr. Sinha of New Delhi..."

"And what are you.."

the reply was more terse, "doing?... contract work".

The 2nd Lt. was more exasperated,"What work?"

the reply, "assisting you"

"In what?"

the reply, "whatever you are doing here"

Now the 2nd Lt. was about to blow a gasket when the R/T man called out "Janaab, Top for Amit on Charlie-9"

The freshie Lt. was a little stunned, Charlie-9, the encrypted channel; Top, an unfamiliar call sign, most likely one of the civvies at Brigade or God only knows who else.

Amit asked," May I ?"

The 2nd Lt. very sarcastically replied, "Oh by all means... be my guest.."

Amit walked towards the phone with a smile. The 2nd Lt. would get a sermon when he returned to base, he should have remembered what a Captain in his unit had said just before the Lt. went out on patrol, civvy contractors working for the NSC were in the area doing something no one was supposed to ask about. "Civilian Contractors", or the people formerly associated the R&AW, as the MI types would call them.

Forty eight hours later Amit was sitting in the guest house at Arjangarh across from an old friend..

Amit eyed his friend quietly, and after pulling the cup of tea away from his mouth asked casually, "Kya Khalid meri yaad kaise aaye?"

Khalid smiled, "read this.." and dumped a file on top of the coffee table.

Amit picked it up and began reading.. after about twenty minutes, he looked up at Khalid and said, "and?"

Khalid replied "I need a 2iC."

Amit looked at him carefully, "Kaam kya hain? exactly..."

Khalid, "as it suggests manage a first contact with little or no information"

Amit "and remuneration.."

Khalid, "reasonable... but better working hours than your current posting."

Amit, "retirement benifits.." (laughing)

Khalid, "Yeah yeah, role in a hindi picture as the hero with..." (Laughing).

Amit, "and the Catch?"

Khalid, "Not fair, first tell if you are in or out?"

Amit, (carefully wiping the tea off his lips) "Yeh bhi poochney ki baat hain?" gently nodding his head..

Khalid, "Soch lo ek baar, phir mat bolna ki chance nahin diya..."

Amit.. (nodding more firmly...) "Yes in.. "

Khalid.."Good..."

Amit, "So catch?"

Khalid, "Good thing you said yes, the offer was a one way street.."

Now even the great Amit was taken aback, "are you serious?"

Khalid, "that what they did to me.."

Amit let out a low whistle... "So who is Top"

Khalid gestured to the figure that was now silently standing behind Amit.

The NSA cleared his throat, "Technically Top is the very Top.. but I am here as a cut out."

Amit sprang to his feet and saluted, the NSA waved it off, "Aaye ... none of that here."

The two men knew each other from an age ago, "So Amit, what suggestions?" asked the NSA.

Amit replied, "Sir, looks like science fiction, we should get a science fiction writer and a few more dabs of paint here and there and we will have a best seller.."

The NSA laughed, "Good one! and we'll both retire rich! "

Amit continued,"No Sir, seriously a good science fiction writer will come in handy, he will help fill in the blanks"

The NSA raised one eyebrow and asked "You have one in mind?"

Amit smiled, "Yes..."

The NSA looked skeptical..

Amit reassured him "He used to work for us, in the old days, after the changes he went private."
The NSA was surprised, "For us?"

Amit replied "Yes sir, he was the Information Control, under Watali - you know CT-5 - the alignment wallahs."

The NSA dredged the large archive of names and faces in his mind, Watali he did remember, J&K cadre IPS officer attached to the old R&AW's Counter Terrorism - Division 5, in charge of detecting and destroying broken arrows and aligning other proliferation scenarios. His information control officer, the chief strategist for all his psyops and policy planning, a face jumped into the NSA's mind.. but the name... what was the name...

"Suresh.. Sumeet... Sudee.. Susheel..Susheel ki baat kar rahe ho?" the NSA

Amit's eyes lit up, "Yes sir same one - his callsign was Dominic. he left the service after Watali retired, he is now a science fiction writer, runs a small magazine for children, I think his girlfriend's father is the proprietor."

Khalid remembered him, their paths had crossed a few years ago in Kiloland, Khalid couldn't remember why...

The NSA stared at Khalid, "Aap ki kya raay hain Khalid?"

Khalid replied, "He is good, he was in Kashmir for a while, I forget why"

Amit smiled, "Khalid's getting old!... Dominic was there with Watali, to find out the rest of the Khatib story.. remember the pilot story.."

Khalid's memory was jogged, "A-ha.. uska kya hua end mey?"

Amit looking at the NSA, "I think saale ko thok diya na?"

The NSA nodded..

Khalid remembered, "New York mein pakda tha usko, JFK mein thoka... that one.. yes yes.. Americans took the credit and footage... Yaad aya... saw that bullshit on TV."

The NSA looked at Khalid again, he nodded, "Dominic will do."

NSA now stared at the file on the table, "chalo one more question solved"

He started towards the door, looking over his shoulder, "Parso tak kuch discussion karo on strategy, I want to hear what you have to say.."

The next morning a bleary eyed Dominic was sitting in front of Amit and Khalid, he was reading the brief that had been handed to Amit a day earlier. Clearly not an early riser, Dominic was not happy about having been "picked up" out of his house at 4 AM and then flown by the IAF to Arjangarh. It was all SOP in the life he had lived before, but that is why he had left that life behind, this was simply too stressful and he needed his sleep. Now suitably disgusted by what he saw before him, Dominic finally stared at Amit and Khalid and spoke with his customary clarity,

"You dragged me out of bed for this b-grade science fiction plot that a kid who watched Star Wars could have written?"

Amit and Khalid looked at each other, and then both replied "Yes."

Dominic was a sufficiently sharp cookie to know something odd was going on. It was too elaborate to be a practical joke, he continued on his half incredulous rant..

"So we are going to make contact with Aliens for the first time.."

Khalid cleared his throat, "Well... Not Exactly.. " Amit looked at the floor

Dominic cut him off "Okay for the first time by an Indian..."

Now it was Khalid's turn to look at the floor.. Dominic kept the rant going," You dragged me out of bed to be part of this gang of people that is going to be the first Indians to make contact with a non terrestrial species. "

"Not exactly, " said the NSA who had just entered the room. Dominic turned towards the voice and saw a familiar face. He was simply stunned and frustrated... closing his eyes slowly and opening them he asked "What do you mean by not exactly? - Sir"

"You won't be the first Indians to make contact" replied the NSA.

Dominic shook his head "Sir, a stupid question, if there are other Indians who have already made contact, why not just ask them to do it again.."

" They have passed into the pages of history" replied the NSA.

"So we have to do it all over again.." chimed in Khalid.

Dominic shook his again, "Surely they left records?"

The NSA replied "Yes they did.."

Dominic replied "And?"

The NSA continued " The records indicate that these are not the same species that we made contact with earlier."

Dominic now calmed down, "So why don't we ask the Aliens we do know about the Aliens we don't know?, if our friends are a space faring race that travelled all the way to the earth many years ago, they would know about the other space faring species out there? why not just ask them.."

Now all three of them stared at the NSA.

The NSA took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, "It is not that simple. In the past each communication with the Aliens we do know has been relatively free from the risk of proliferation. If we try to contact our acquaintances now, there is every risk our contact will be discovered by other nations. If indeed this story about a technology collaboration between these Aliens and the Americans is true, then the risks of discovery are much higher."

Dominic was not convinced. The other two were doubtful about this, it simply didn't add up.."So let them find out we have alien friends ourselves.. " retorted Dominic. "Surely such a display would enhance our stature in their eyes and change the dominance relationships?"

The NSA eyed Dominic sharply, "Why do you feel they are friends?"

Dominic was lost "What!?"

The NSA replied "You assume that the ones we knew were friendly."

Dominic replied incredulously "You mean they weren't?"

The NSA replied "It is difficult to explain, they were here for a reason. This planet served as an outpost in their wider scheme of things. They interacted with us in various ways, at first with great zeal as they wanted to learn much about us but after a time, they realised their interactions carried certain risks, so they reduced and finally cut off contact."

Dominic was now quite confused "I don't follow you, first they came here for some other reason, then they initially behaved as friends then cut of contact?"

The NSA decided that it was time to clarify," This planet was a outpost required to help them in protecting a resource found in this part of the galaxy. They used our populations as auxilliaries to support their missions and though this placed a strain on us, our relations were quite positive. However due to reasons beyond our comprehension, the Aliens were unable to maintain the stability of their own political system and its collapse created a massive fission in their interactions with us. As the subgroups vied for power at the centre of their political system, wars broke out within their federation for control over key resources. We were soon enmeshed into such wars, and the Earth played host to several terrible battles as the men attempted to fight as proxies for the Aliens. Not long after this war, their federation weakened and Earth and its inhabitants ceased to be a matter of interest to them. For our part the last great battle in this war proved too debilitating, it decimated the population of the planet and brought the global polity and economy to a standstill."

Dominic was in disbelief, "and so they cut off contact with us?"

The NSA replied "No, that would take much more time. After the war, their political system eventually stabilized and a more rational thought process took hold at their centre and a commission was established to carefully examine the causes of the war. The Commission comprised of some of the greatest scientific minds in the known universe and it identified incoherent contact with the inhabitants of lower races on various planets as one of the drivers of the conflict. The suggestion made was that contact with less developed beings fed delusions of a Godlike invincibility and grandeur in the Aliens and that initiated a clash of egos that caused the war. The Commission promulgated strict laws for contact with lesser developed species. Some thinkers from Earth also participated in the Commission's work and from our perspective, rational thinking indicated that humans were easily seduced by the possibility a gain by contact with Aliens. The basal human instinct for greed drove such notions of gain and this in turn invited the proliferation of alien technology on earth. Such proliferation lead to terrible wars on Earth. The decision to cut contact was mutual. From this decision the Old World Order was created."

Dominic was amazed "and why is this never told to any of us? "

The NSA replied "It is told, in bowdlerized form, in those epics everyone hears time and time again. Unfortunately presently a skewed sense of rationality dictates that those epics be treated as myth, a studied falsehood, and not as history - itihaas - a factual account infused with mnemonic guides."

Dominic and the others were speechless.

The NSA knew this was a natural state, he continued, "We do not know what will happen if we inform the Aliens we know about this new species that the Americans have made contact with. The Aliens we knew had decided that there would no contact and no proliferation of technology from their side to ours. The Aliens the Americans claim to have met seem to be unaware of the Commissions' rules. If our old friends find out about this and decide that the America's E.T. friends are a problem somehow deliberately violating the Comission's rulings, a new war could break out in space and our planet will be at the centre of it. Alternatively if the America's E.T. friends feel our old friends on the Commission could be a potential problem, then they could induce their American allies to drag us into supporting their ambitions against our old friends. I don't know which is more undesirable."

The NSA paused and took a deep breath, "In any case all this presupposes that the American E.T.'s actually exist. I agree that if they do and we percieve that they are ill intentioned, then perhaps we might feel obliged to inform our old friends about a potential problem, and some strategy may be concieved to rid ourselves of this infestation. Alternately if America's alien friends are somehow just ill informed, then perhaps they could be induce to peacefully accept the Commission's rulings and they could then transit into the federation without causing undue concern, but we are getting ahead of ourselves. Until we know that that America's E.T. friends are real, there is no point in further discussion."

The NSA stared carefully at the men... there was silence. Finally Amit broke it, "It makes sense to proceed under the assumption that the American contact is real."

Khalid nodded, "I agree, if we prepare for a genuine first contact scenario, we are more likely to spot a deception. "

The NSA stared at Dominic. He was still reeling under the information he had just recieved and took some time to compose himself but finally he too spoke, "Yes it makes sense, at the very least it will keep American suspicions about our role to a minimum, and will prolong their illusion of global leadership."

The NSA contined to stare at Dominic, interesting, thought the NSA, a very level-headed approach, despite having been burdened with information that would leave most people screaming, Dominic was thinking on his feet, he was a good man after all, Amit had chosen well.

The NSA cleared his throat, and spoke calmly "Well, that is a start. I need to see a more concrete strategy emerge on this matter. The basic parameters for our contact remain the same, we will conduct the contact in such a way that we do not let our anything from our side while gathering the maximum possible information from the Alien side. When we meet again tomorrow, I would like to see a more substantial evolution of this idea."

The three men nodded and the NSA turned to leave.

The Thar Incident - 13

2006-11-21T08:40:00.000-08:00

Continued from Part 12.

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

On his way home from the CO's office, Khalid stopped at a near by cyber cafe and typed the words "First Contact" on Google. What came up caused him to shake his head. After about half an hour of searching, Khalid decided he had enough and walked out of the cafe. The thoughts circled in Khalid's mind, "first contact", something about gold prospectors in Papua, something about Star Trek, something about a movie by Jodie Foster, the pattern was all to obvious but what was this specifically about?

It couldn't be the aliens, there was no such thing as aliens, though Khalid. This had been drilled into them by the officer teaching Psyops at the school in the forest on the Ridge.

"The human mind is prone to pangs of belief, even the most cynical mind seeks the comfort of hope. Even if all our science and investigation points to the complete absence of any kind of alien species in space, people still dream of ETs. The media industry churns out one blockbuster after another, public demands entertainment and Aliens always find their niche. More popular than pornstars, the Alien sucks our imaginations towards it. It should be no surprise to you all that the American Government's Psychological Operations Coordination Board chose to use the idea of Aliens to camouflage the secret activities of the intelligence services. It didn't matter what the actual cargo in the box was, it could be guns, nukes, drugs, someone's mother, you name it, as long as you said it was aliens, no one wanted to open it! Concievably the most successful psyops in human history"

So Khalid now wondered, was that what this was about? a deliberate psyops by the GoI's finest to pull the wool over someone else's eyes? a deception operation on a grand strategic scale. What exactly was this... the questions bounced about in his head. He decided that this was time to pick up those text books on psychology and read them up. He spent his next week reading.

The next time he called that number the NSA gave him. The NSA answered himself and gave him an address. It was a small farmhouse next to Arjangarh. To most it seemed insignificant, but Khalid knew enough to know that the farmhouses in that area were extremely secure, they were inside an electronic exclusion zone that surrounded the Arjangarh Facility. The entire area was systematically swept for transmitters of all sizes and the zone was kept electronically clean. This was where the great defector had been brought, Khalid knew because he was the one that had brought the defector home.

When Khalid arrived, he found that he was alone in the farmhouse with the NSA.

The NSA spoke, " Have you had a chance to think about what I have said?"

Khalid replied "Yes I have."

The NSA wanted to hear his thoughts.

Khalid now spoke with his customary economy of words, "This sort of thing has been done before, the psyops part. We could replicate it here but I couldn't say for how long."

The NSA mumbled, "hmm... good, by the way speaking of long, you will no longer be reporting to your CO. As far as they are concerned you are finished with them."

Khalid was expecting something but he was a little unnerved by the speed at which it had happened.

The NSA continued, "I gave them a fake intercept by NTRO that said that you and your man friday on the ground had been compromised, so they never want to see either of you again. Man Friday will go to Nahan as an instructor, he will live the rest of his life happily with his family, you will work with me. "

Khalid was now visibly upset.

The NSA continued, "Don't worry, I made it look like it wasn't no fault of yours. Your record is clean but you can't go back there..."

Now Khalid's mind raced, so this was always a one way street, I should have known, curiousity had gotten the better of instinct again, if he could not go back to the boys, where could he go? it was here or a ditch on the banks of the Yamuna. What a choice...

The NSA seemed to sense what was going through his mind, "I am sorry, it was the only way.."

Khalid nodded but his inner voice spoke via his eyes, yeah! sure... easy for you to say.....

The NSA looked at him for a rather long moment and then spoke calmly,"What I am about to tell you is for your ears only. I ask that you leave your preconceptions of this topic aside. I have a challenging task for you, but I am sure you will be up to it."

Khalid's mind was off on its own, ah the pep talk before they ask you to kill people you don't even know.. it was surprising that people didn't simply tire of this.

The NSA did not stop, and told him of recent events, little by little, Khalid's suspicion and instinct gave way to his childlike curiousity yet again. After about forty five minutes, the NSA drew a deep breath and said, "Contrary to what we teach at the school, this is not a psyop at our end. We have a genuine problem that affects our national security and possibly the security of the whole world. We have no idea who owns the craft and what they will behave like if they come looking for it".

"How do we know that it is not an American psyop." Khalid asked.

The NSA replied, "The technology in the craft is far ahead of anything our spies report that the Americans can field even in their wildest dreams..."

Khalid was about to ask something but he realised he would not get a straight answer, so he stopped short of asking.

The NSA continued, "There is however a strong possibility that the Americans have aimed a psyop at us. Their representatives have alluded to a treaty signed in 1954 between the American President and the non-terrestrials. The treaty states that the Americans will recover any such craft and negotiate on behalf of the world with the non-terrestrials. The Americans over the past sixty years have gradually brought other nations into this treaty. A sub-clause in the treaty binds member states to hand over negotiating power with non-terrestrials to a committee comprised of a handful of international nominees. This international committee acts as the guidance council for a small secretariat which is the defacto power center inside this sytem, needless to say the secretariat is dominated by Americans. Perhaps you see why this would make some uneasy."

Khalid asked the obvious question, "Why would anyone submit to this? what does the secretariat do?"

The NSA replied, "Signatories of the treaty were all given economic benifits as membership rewards. These were channeled to them via an enormous international financial system that was created after World War II. The maintainence of this system was tasked to a political apparat. This apparat is sometimes called the One World Goverment. It operates invisibly under the guise of a number of international bodies to ensure that payoffs required to preserve the Treaty are made. The secretariat is responsible for four things, the smooth functioning of the apparat, the recovery and storage of all treaty items, the maintenance of global information control, and the regulation of all contact with non-terrestrials. "

Khalid was taking it all in, and said nothing, the NSA continued, "You should be aware that an article in the treaty forbids the direct development of weapons technology from recovered items and another clause severely restricts the kind of research and development activity that can be conducted on the recovered items while they are in storage. A special research and development organisation provides the necessary support to the secretariat, and though it is nominally attached to the secretariat, it is the only arm that is given independent access to the guidance council. There is a technology transfer section inside this R&D organisation, the section transfers harvested technologies to the civilian sector upon recieving instructions from the secretariat. This technology trade forms one of the corner stones of the pedestal on which the One World Government operates."

The NSA drew a deep breath again,"But whatever I have just told you is by word of mouth. We have no independent confirmation of this. This entire story could be a psyop on their side."

"If other nations are part of this, couldn't we ask them?" Khalid asked.

The NSA replied, "You can't ask a nation, I mean we are going to have to ask specific individuals in these nations, its not like everyone knows. Specific people could easily be turned to say whatever the Americans wanted them to say. That verification scheme would yeild no real results of value."

Then Khalid saw what the NSA was driving at, all this time.

"You see" the NSA said, "We have to do it from ground up."

Khalid looked at the NSA and bluntly asked "So are the Americans going to let us?"

The NSA replied, "Well temporarily we have asked them for a little time and we have indicated to them that we intend to investigate the matter to our satisfaction. They have requested that we keep them informed of our moves and that we keep our activities within the spirit of the treaty, and avoid starting something that no one can stop. The PM has acceded to this request."

Then Khalid asked to be sure "So the PM is ...."

The NSA cut him off," Yes, but you must understand that the PM has to keep the economic health of the nation a priority. That limits her flexibility. "

"Why not just take their pay off and be done with it?" Khalid asked again.

The NSA knew this was coming, "The answer to that is a difficult one. In the Ramayan, it is said that Ravanan, and his brothers, Vibhishanan and Kumbhakaranan carried out a brutal form of penance. The penance eventually succeeded in gaining them enlightenment and access through the gates of Eternity. However upon entering Eternity they wandered through timelessness and soon got very bored. It is said they sat down and laughed uncontrollably for a while and then after that they got up and left Eternity. They returned to Earth, without any shred of responsibility and lacking compassion, they became an endless scourge that nearly wiped out humanity"

Khalid's mind's reaction was ..Whoa... wtf is he talking about.. ease off on the crack cocaine dude...

Seeing Khalid's eyebrow raised, the NSA realised that Khalid was lost, "Once knowledge is imparted to someone who may not necessarily understand its value, the knowledge becomes an invitiation to boundless trouble. Power without purpose corrupts absolutely."

Now Khalid was a little confused. There must be more to this then the NSA was letting on, knowledge? the Americans were going to gain knowledge from the craft? Something that they perhaps did not have? how did the NSA know this? How could he know that the craft would enable the Americans to become more knowledgeable?

Why the concern over sharing knowledge when India did not have any itsel.. "But if..."

The NSA cut him off again, "Think it through... remember everything about the Mahabharat and the Ramayana.. think of them holistically, not as simple stories for children.."

Khalid tusseled with the doubts in his mind, it took a few minutes, and then it hit him.. those stupid mythologies, or were they meta narratives and nemonics for something else, the repeated emphasis on terrible things that happened in times gone by when some man or woman, driven to madness by personal inadequacy, petitioned the denizens of the Heavens for a boon and then the boon became a curse to humanity. The nightmare of proliferation playing itself out in full view each time as gifts of the Gods were misused to solve human differences...

And as he did, quite suddenly in his minds eye, a disturbing picture fell into place. They had known all along... all this while they knew it all... and soon Khalid didn't know how to feel.

The NSA saw his plight and took pity on him, "Today we live in a world where resources are not equally shared. A whole economy has sprung up around an imperfect distribution of opportunity. A misguided sense of superiority afflicts a few and misplaced inferiority dogs the rest. Yet in even in times past, bad judgement has been Mankind's most inforgivable sin. What makes the Americans less prone to such misjudgements? than us? So are we not abdicating our responsibility by simply handing it over to the Americans?"

For once the voice in Khalid's head had no answers, the only response it could muster was a voice repeatedly saying "they must have known this all along... all this time... they knew"

Finally after a long silence, Khalid spoke "So what do you want me to do"

The NSA looked straight at Khalid and said, "The Aliens will return to collect their ship. When they do you will make first contact."

Khalid asked, "How much time do we have?"

The NSA replied, "We don't know.. it could be today, tomorrow, ten years from now..."

"The Americans..." Khalid began, the NSA cut him off again.."will have to be handled but you.. you stay focussed on the Contact itself."

"Me alone?" asked Khalid.

"No, assemble a team, one that thinks before it acts." the NSA replied, " a composite team with the skill to do what it takes"

"Where is the craft now?" Khalid asked, the NSA replied "It is kept in a special place, the 22s have it under guard, you will go there with me soon.. but for now start thinking about your team and what you need. This farmhouse will be your base, use the telephone and the number to get what you need."

Khalid nodded.

The NSA got up, shook hands with him and left through the front door. Khalid heard a car starting up and speed away. It was then that Khalid realised that it was early evening and he turned the TV on.

A channel played an interview with the Minister of State for Science and Technology (MoS S&T). It was Ranjan Sharma's talk show Public ki Adalat, the PM's announcement that ISRO would carry out a manned space flight by the end of the year had become big news, everyone wanted to know what was going on - the MoS S&T was cutting footage, the election was only two years away, so the MoS was doing the usual thing of giving glib answers to questions from the public. The cute face of the government, the young man put in there to get some experience, a fellow being trained to sit in a warm gaddi somewhere else some other day.

It was all going fine until one of the members of the audience got up and asked

"So Mister Minister, Sir, I have heard that Government is doing this space flight because it wants to make contact with Aliens?"

The MoS smiled, "Now where did you hear such a thing?"

The man replied, "Sir, on the Internet, they are saying that there is a research facility in the Satpura mountains where Government of India keeps an Alien craft it has recently captured in the Thar desert and after it was captured the government wanted to find out who owns the ..."

The man spoke excitedly and seemed to continue forever without stopping for a breath, the MoS was now flashing his pearly whites and Ranjan Sharma had a huge grin on his face... ah alien conspiracy theorists the stuff of real entertainment...

Ranjan Sharma took the microphone "So Mantriji what do you say to this? Is this true? "

The MoS S&T replied "Well No we don't have any Alien things with us, yes there is military R&D for aerospace research which as you know has be secret, but there is no alien technology involved in anything."

Ranjan decided to bait the MoS S&T, "So Mantriji just to be sure I understand, you are saying there is no such thing as Aliens.."

The MoS S&T laughed and said," No Ranjan, none that we know of"

Ranjan saw a chance and took it, "So we are alone in the universe"

The MoS S&T replied, "Yes, thats what it looks like"

Ranjan jumped in"So then what is the point of going to space? isn't the Government wasting its time and our money with this expensive picnic in space.."

The MoS S&T had seen him coming, "Well I didn't say there would never be Aliens? I simply said we don't think there are any Aliens right now.. that could change."

Now Ranjan saw another chance to stick it to the MoS S&T, "So then the gentleman who asked the question is right. You are going to space to look for Aliens"

The MoS laughed again, "No no we are not going to look for them, we have no reason to believe they are out there but who knows we might see them.. we don't know what will happen once we get up there."

Ranjan was getting bored now, this was a little too easy, so he tried again "So the gentleman here is wrong?"

The MoS smiled, "look Ranjan, I know what you are trying to get me to do, you are trying to get me to make controversial statements so your ratings go up... Let me be clear, there are children and parents watching this show right now... at the other end of that camera is a young Indian boy or girl and they are thinking what is going on.. I have a responsibility towards them.. so I will be very clear.."

Turning towards the Camera, the MoS S&T said "To the viewers of this program I say this, as far as our science and technology can tell right now, we are alone in this universe. But science is not a static affair, we are always learning something new about the world. Our knowledge is ever growing and it has to be that way if human beings are to make progress. "

He continued"What we know today could change today, tomorrow, ten years from now... who has seen the future? Science is progressing and already we are answering questions that in my father's time we had no answers to, so it will be with you... "

" I say again, do not give up hope, you the little boy or girl watching the TV right now ... you could be the one that someday meets an Alien for the first time. So do not be afraid to imagine,
dare to imagine, for imagination is the engine that drives innovation and the growth of knowledge. "

And buy more model kits and toys of ISRO's rockets, though Ranjan, he knew the MoS S&T's brother-in-law was the biggest toy manufacturer in the country. But Ranjan's cynicism was drowned out by the round of applause that spontaneously burst out from the audience.

Less than a mile from the TV station, the PM and the PPS were watching the broadcast. The PM seemed preoccupied but she simply said "he is good, isn't he?", the PPS replied, "indeed he is.."

The MoS S&T was pleased with his performance, he had been a bit unnerved when the PM had called on him and told him what she wanted ISRO to do an hour before the INSA meeting he had rushed home to meet his father. The father listened to him and simply said, "Jao beta, abbu ka naam roshan karo." The only strategy that would work would be if both the people and the ISRO staff were driven by a spate of positive publicity so that was where this was all going to go. As he walked out of the TV station people were lining up shake his hands and a beeper indicated that his next meeting with the ISRO director was only twenty minutes away. Thats why we have these flashing lights on the car thought the minister as the motorcade sped away leaving the cameras and flashbulbs in its dust.

The Thar Incident - 12

2006-11-13T12:24:00.000-08:00

Continued from Part 11.

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

The National Security Advisor sat cross legged in front of the Sage.

Behind the Sage stood the great temple, with its towering gopurams constructed by great Hindu emperors and kings.

The National Security Advisor briefly took his attention of the Sage and looked at the beauty and majest of the temple. It was this beauty that had inspired the Traveller to compose the famed sivanandalahiri.

Without much warning the Sage rose, the NSA's attention shifted again as he looked at the Sage. The Sage anticipated his question and asked him to rise.

They began to walk, the Sage ahead and the NSA one step behind on his right. Seeing the Sage walking a number of junior priests at the Shrine walked towards him in case he needed some assistance, but he waved them away. In the distance the children of some visitors played and the Sage made his way towards the river.

"He is going to the Mandapam" the NSA thought. Legend had it that this was where the Veeracharam ritual was once performed, a supreme and bloody act of devotion, self mutilation as a form of surrender to the Almighty... "Ancient history" thought the NSA, but the Sage said nothing and the men walked in silence.

Slowly the two men made their way down the steps, towards the river and the NSA spoke,

"Swamigal, how does one know that this is not some conspiracy to get us to hand over what we have?"

Swamigal replied, "How does one know anything?"

The NSA continued not understanding, "We have no evidence of this treaty, we are reliant completely on their word."

Swamigal replied " What is evidence? the Truth is self evident"

The NSA sensed something,"If it is self evident, then why search for it?"

The Sage said nothing, the NSA continued, "Why not accept that position of ignorance?"

The Sage looked towards the river, the NSA spoke again "What is the price of ignorance and how does it compare to the price paid in the search for the Truth?"

Swamigal finally tired of this line of thinking and spoke "The Truth is self-evident, we seek only the negation of falsehood."

"Then Sire, what is falsehood" the NSA began.

"One can scarcely anticipate that, it is the removal of falsehood that one may seek with some success, the search for evidence of Truth, is a mere phantasm, the evidence will itself become a new falsehood, a shield to the eyes against the light of the truth.." the Sage replied.

" If the Truth is surrounded by Falsehood, its eternal light will cast long shadows. " the Sage continued.

The NSA was unsure, "If I assume that this treaty of 1954 is a lie, then I must treat it as the shadow of the Truth and then by induction"

"The tools of logic ill serve those that seek an end to falsehood. " The Sage interjected, "Look at the shadow and determine which way the Truth lies, and seek only the end to delusion."

Suddenly as the NSA saw what the Sage had been indicating all along.

The meeting ended shortly there after and the NSA prostrated himself before the Sage and left the Temple. Dressed in the most ordinary of ways and lacking any sort of escort, his arrival and departure had gone unnoticed.

As the NSA boarded the bus to the railway station a few miles away, He realised he would have to choose his man carefully.

A few days later a tired and weary Khalid, returned to his home in Delhi. It had been a very trying time back in "the shit", the kilos in their brilliant search for "self-determination" had managed to fill every single graveyard and in most places the only ones left alive were old women and children. Orphans and widows, that was all the Kilo dream of self-determination had left them with and yet the bastards managed to get seduced by it, time and time again.

Things were better now than in the late 90s, but what a pain in the ass, ingrates these kilos were. Though "the Shit" was a large place, Khalid was the Shahenshah of the Kupwara Kings. The title went back a long way to a time in the nineties when the Kupwara Kings had helped pacify a Kilo city. Their efforts had layed the groundwork for a seamless operation by the regulars who took the city in a few days after the Kings moved in. In a little known action, a major Kilo stronghold was reintegrated and the troublemakers done away with. The fellow who headed this was Rustom Kaikhusrao, a good man who went on to do much better elsewhere but Khalid had to stay behind long after Kaikhusrao's men were back down to their CASO routines. Eventually Khalid was moved to other places but now it was right boring, he had finally managed to get some leave to take care of his son's college admissions.

As Khalid relaxed in his house, he pondered what he would do. The bastards upstairs would not let him go farther, there was really nothing for him to do further up anyway, paper pushing was not his thing. He reached for his cup of tea and stared out of his balcony.

Khalid was pissed when the phone rang twice and then stopped and then it did that again. The beeper went off too. "F*CK!!" thought Khalid, a recall. Khalid now raced to his mobile and dialed the number on the pager.

"Khalid here" he said into the phone. The voice on the other end sounded metallic, "do you recognise my voice?" it said. Khalid replied, "Sir I do".

The voice continued"Good, come to see me right now"

"Sir." Khalid replied.

So much for time off Khalid said... and a few minutes later he was off. Well, atleast they don't expect you to dress up.

The trip was a short one, but Khalid was a bit surprised to see the other man in his COs room.
He knew the face, it was too well known among the people that count. As Khalid saluted the man, the CO quietly left the two alone in his office.

"Very fucking odd!" though Khalid.

The NSA sat down and asked Khalid if he wanted anything, and Khalid answered he didn't.

The NSA began, "So you were at North Sentinel Island during the Tsunami relief ops?"

Khalid replied," Yes sir, I was asked to provide aid to the Sentinelese tribals."

The NSA, " tell me more".

Khalid," Sir no one knew their language and no one knew how they would react to seeing outsiders. There was a high risk of them attacking the relief units, and they had already tried to bring down an IAF Helo with arrows, so my squad was sent in."

The NSA said "And?"

Khalid, " we established contact with them and gave them medical support and food supplies."

"How did you communciate with them?" the NSA asked,

Khalid, " We used lookee-see-pointy langauge Sir. they seemed to understand what we were saying, I think they wanted to communcate as much as we did."

Now Khalid's mind was racing," WTF was this about? This shit was all part of civvy-aid ops from ages ago. What did the NSA care about this? was I going to be made a teacher for Sentinelese at the school for langauges? wtf..?"

The NSA gave nothing away, and continued to ask questions, "Give me more details, how many were in your squad, what did you have, communications wise, etc..."

Khalid began to respond, "It was just five of us with AKs and we had one handie between us. There wasn't much ammo, mostly food and medical supplied, IAF ops had reestablished at CarNic so they gave us a lift and dropped us on the shore. The tribals were ..."

This back and forth lasted an hour and by then the NSA knew he had what he wanted.

Finally he looked Khalid straight in the eye and said, "I have something for you to do. You will leave your current deputation and report to me.."

"Very fucking sweet" Khalid thought "And WTF am I to do" he said in his mind..

Seeing Khalid's silence the NSA eyed him again, "Assuming you are in agreement?"

Khalid realized it was not really a question but replied anyway "Yes Sir, but if I may ask, what is this about?"

The NSA now looked at him and after carefully considering his words simply said "It is similar to the Sentinel job, I think we shall call it Sentinel II."

Sweet Asss... though Khalid a paid vacation to the islands at GoI's expense... yahooo!! the last one in the Shit hadn't been nearly fun enough... now this

The NSA continued," Actually it may be a bit more but we will take it as it comes"

Khalid simply replied "Sir."

The NSA asked, "when does your leave end?"

Khalid replied "in a week sir."

"Well you might as well get some rest", the NSA said, "you deserve it. Report to me at this number (handing him a small piece of paper) in 7 days.."

Khalid was pleased, man it was good to be out of the Shit, that place was fucking boring. He sensed that the meeting was over and rose to salute the NSA.

The NSA waved off the salute and said, "You have no questions?"

Khalid replied, "I do Sir, but I figured that you would answer them when the time came.."

The NSA smiled, ah.. the SF.. the only ones you could one hundred percent count on..

"Good then", the NSA said as he walked Khalid to the door, "I have one request, when you get home, and are resting think about something called "First Contact". "

Khalid was a bit confused, he had heard that term used somewhere before but couldn't recall what it meant. "Sir" he replied and walked out of the office.

The NSA now sank back into the chair and stared at the list of honours on the wall. The CO walked in and asked him if he wanted any tea. The NSA indicated now was as good a time as any.

(with apologies to the Great Khalid himself and to Lethal Weapon who gave us Khalid as we now know him)

The Thar Incident - 11

2006-11-09T10:07:00.000-08:00

Continued from Part 10.

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

A review was not something that Matthew had really wanted at this point, but apparently the matter had gone all the way up to the Old Man himself. Not that Matthew expected it wouldn't but a review was something he really did not want, but this meant that Matthew had the Old Man's attention, that brought with it pressure on him to perform but also pressure on the Indians.

The Professor seated next to the Old Man was the defacto head of the Special Group as it was called. Not that it needed a name, but someone had coined this name years ago for something else and it had stuck. Next to the Professor was the one they called the Invisble Man, a legend in his own time, a high ranking bureaucrat widely reputed to be the reigning Archduke of the American Intelligence underworld.

Matthew concluded his report and simply said, "It wasn't unexpected, but there are many questions as to where they will proceed from here."

The Old Man replied, "Any ideas on what exactly they might want"

The Invisible Man answered, "The same thing the others wanted."

Matthew replied "They do not know about the others."

The Professor had watched the proceedings with an air of detachement, but then he leaned forward in his chair and adjusted his weight as he turned towards the Old Man, and then he began to speak,

"The Indians are traumatized by the colonial period. Much the same way as Jews are by the Holocaust. They view each contact with suspicion and post-colonial thinking dictates that they respond to the contact with extreme circumspection. They will continue to say nothing until they are on a surer footing of where we stand."

The Invisible Man stretched back a little in his chair and yawned, "And then they will want the same thing that everyone else wanted."

The Professor eyed the Invisible Man quietly, "Perhaps, and perhaps not.."

Matthew now listened keenly, the Old Man asked the same question that had been running in his mind, "How will they be different?"

The Professor continued, "Our studies suggest that the Indians take a fundamentally different view of the universe. Their entire emphasis is on gaining a processed form of information, containing raw data and analysis, a potent all encompassing knowledge laced with predictive power. Their civilization and history predisposes them towards such acquisition. "

"How is that different from us?" replied the Old Man.

The Professor replied, "On the face of it, it isn't but we are prone to material distractions, they are not and seek knowledge in its abstract form. "

The Invisible Man cut in,"Not all of them! we have studied a large number of their expats in our lands, they do not espouse any such desire and settle quietly for material gratification. "

The Professor retorted, "That analysis is skewed, when the west first re-connected with India prior to colonization, the West was driven by a desire to Christianize India, very quickly however the early contactees realized that the Indians carried with them a highly sophisticated form of civilizational power. The missionaries were more likely to be converted to the Indian way of thinking than the other way around. Despite several strategies, attempts at psychologically dominating the Indian elite through a visible religious framework failed, and more subtle means had to be used. However these too have largely failed."

The Invisible Man disagreed,"Failed? none of our sampling shows that trend, acceptance of western lifestyles and culture in India has been constantly rising. American owned newspapers call the shots in the English language media, and people crave to learn English to seek employment in Westernized trade and economies. "

The Professor calmly replied, "I think you are missing the point, the Indians have responded to the subtle culture war in a very sophisticated fashion. They threw back at us what we threw at them. We forced English on them, now they filled our enterprises with Indian employees, our local populations now have to compete with these Indians for jobs. We bestowed industrialization on them, they returned the favor by demanding energy to run these factories. We gave them ..."

The Invisible Man now recoiled, "That's ridiculous, our needs have changed we have been able to keep their system subservient to our needs using ..."

The Professor now cut in, "Have we really? We are no closer today to shaking their age old beliefs than we were a hundred years ago"

The Old Man stepped in, "That's enough, we are losing focus!"

He softened his tone, "I still don't see how they are fundamentally different from us"

The Professor tried again, "They will continue to ask questions long after we have stopped, we cannot guarentee that we have answers, or that we will like their questions."

The Invisible Man replied, " And what will they do if we say we don't have answers?"

The Professor replied, " I don't know."

The Old Man persisted, "This is different from the others how?"

The Professor tried once more, "The others could be bought off by material wealth. In most cases they were brought in at a time when their economies were crumbling and we could use economic leverage as a way of keeping them satisfied."

The Invisible Man replied, "We have leverage now too with Indians."

The Professor responded,"Yes, but we also have to deal with a wider picture of global trade."

The Old Man was getting a little frustrated now, "So do we treat them as hostile?"

The Professor replied, "No, that may precipate unpleasantries, we proceed with caution, friends not allies, is how we must think of them."

The Old Man was worried, "That might be too difficult to implement in practice."

The Invisible Man replied, "How about giving them the benifit of malice instead?"

The Professor was adamant, "Doubt offers greater flexibility than malice."

The three looked at Matthew and stared as if inviting him to comment, Matthew was sharp enough to know this was not the time to say anything, but stupid enough to be unable to keep his mouth shut.

Matthew spoke "What if we simply reciprocate ambiguity with ambiguity?"

The Professor replied, "It could simply lead to confusion."

The Old Man seemed to consider the idea, "It might force them to be more expressive."

The Invisible Man replied, "Look lets not make it too complicated, lets keep it simple", turning towards the Old Man," What do we need to know? we need to know what they are doing at all times before they do it, that is a rule they cannot break. And any contact they have with... that should be discussed with us before and after. Tell them we are worried that they might start something no one will know how to stop."

The Old Man apparently was won over, "That sounds clear enough to me."

The Professor looked doubtful but nodded, the committee had missed something in his line of thought but there was little to be done about it.

Matthew was convinced he had his marching orders. He rose along with them and soon after some minor pleasantries, they all left.

As Matthew drove on Independence Avenue, the Washington Monument loomed to his right, suddenly in his rear view mirror he spotted the familiar outline of a black government issue security car. The cars lights flashed repeatedly as if to suggest that the driver wanted him to move out of the way but there was plenty of room so why didn't he just overtake him. Matthew looked at the vehicle unsure. At the light for Jefferson Drive, the vehicle pulled alongside, and in the back window the Professor's face was visible, the Professor gestured him to pull over into the Monument Park. It was almost ten minutes before the men were able to get out of their cars and walk together in the park.

There was almost complete silence for the first few minutes of the walk, the Professor seemed to be searching for the right words, he broke his silence abruptly,

"The Indians are a tricky bunch to handle. They think a lot more. You don't give them a straight answer, they think you are hiding something. "

The Professor looked at Matthew and then back across the Monument.

"You are young, so they won't have the same sense of history they have with others we could send instead. I went there a long time ago, their memories are substantial. In my first meeting I said a few things, two days later we met them again and one of their officers repeated my words verbatim, this was before they had tape recorders and no one took notes, it was all from memory. "

Matthew was unsure what to say, but the Professor was in his own world, "be very careful with words"

Matthew was a little perplexed, "Why is this so important, they are a third world country, it can't be that hard to pry the thing lose from their hands..." he said.

The Professor stared at him," That is exactly the kind of thinking that will get you into trouble, get these notions of first world and third world out of your mind. They are simply words our own psyops people have invented. If the words seduce you, the Indians will read you like a book."

Matthew replied "Okay so I was inappropriate, but I still don't understand what makes them so hard to handle. We have the advantage of being the first ones on top of the hill so why do we worry that they are doing something we did a long time ago".

The Professor replied, "Misconceptions have a way of feeding on themselves, so lets clear some up here, for starters, they have been around for a long time, a very long time. There is a story that has been doing rounds repeatedly for centuries now, the story goes that they were the first ones to make contact. Every time around anyone from outside tried to confirm that story, they never gave a straight answer."

Matthew was stunned," What proof .... there is nothing in their current state of affairs to suggest.. we have all this technological run off where is their..."

The Professor replied, "Lets say for a moment that the clock has been set back. You and I have just made contact and instead of choosing to exploit things, we chose to keep all access to it closed, we took the knowledge we had and chose not to use it to change our world. Imagine what would happen if we were comfortable with our surroundings instead of constantly trying to change them?"

Matthew was completely confused "Refused to change our world? you mean reject even the benificial aspects of a contact... why would you do that? "

The Professor replied, "Forget the why ! just ask yourself can it be done?"

Matthew replied, " I suppose it can, but that would assume a time when everything was completely still. A time where the political and social structures felt no need to change or evolve, a state of complete stasis. "

The Professor suggestively replied, "Like when they were on top of the world?"

Matthew responded, " But that is not where they are now.... do they even know about this past episode? I mean if they kept it so secret."

The Professor was more conciliatory, "There is no way to know. The British took away a lot of records in the hope that someday they might be analyzed to gain some insight into the rumors, but we do not know if the Indians had other more substantive records. In general they seem to emphasize oral transmission of information, there is no way to be certain.."

Matthew was now more confused, and so being combative was easy," Does anyone know, does the committee know about this?"

The Professor replied, " No. no one knows for sure. The Old Man knows as much as I do, the others well, what they don't know won't... "

Now Matthew suddenly realized he himself had become special, very special. There was no declining the fact that knowledge was power.

The Professor went back to his more avuncular tone, "Look just be careful and don't get attached to too much of what you think you know. Keep your eyes, ears and mind open, just assume that they will watch you closely form now on. "

Matthew was a little taken aback, " you mean the Indians have a committee too?"

The Professor turned on his heel and walked into the distance, "is that really so surprising? best of luck..."

The shadow of the monument had just shifted past the spot they had been standing and Matthew was now standing in the warm sunlight watching as the Professor walked away into the distance.

A world away at a small reading desk in the Institute for Strategic Studies Islamabad, a young major in the ISI's India division peered up from the computer terminal he was sitting on. He tagged a newspaper article that he was staring at emailed it to his supervisor a Lt. Colonel.

A few hours later, the Lt. Col asked him to come to his office. The Lt. Col was wolfing down a beef samosa, "So what is so important about this?" he asked between munches of his samosa.

The Major worded his reply carefully, "The item says the Indians are building a biosphere."

"And" the Lt. Col. replied,

The Major responded quietly," A biosphere is a completely enclosed living space that is independently capable of growing food, running water, air etc... it does not need to communicate with the outside world."

"So?" the Lt. Col. interjected, not quite following him,

The Major replied, "Sir, you take a biosphere and put it underground, with a nuclear reactor as a power source and you get a long term survival bunker that can last atleast as long as the nuclear reactor can keep power running."

Now the Lt. Col. looked unconvinced " Don't they need sunlight to grow plants?"

The Major replied, "No sir, sunlight can be repoduced with special lighting sources."

The Lt. Col. was intrigued, "Double check everything."

The Major saluted and said "Yes Sir.." as he walked out he muttered to himself, "double check what! the madarchod sees it all in front of him, doesn't want to accept it... kya chootiya hain!"

The Thar Incident - 10

2006-11-05T14:18:00.000-08:00

Continued from Part 9.

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

The team from Washington was just setting up for its presentation. Matthew eyed the others on the table, the Prime Minister and the PPS, and wondered if these were the only people that knew.

In the room next door, the rest of them, the Chairman of the National Security Council Secretariat(CNSCS), the National Security Advisor(NSA), the Principal Scientific Advisor to the PM (PSA), the Cabinet Secretary (CabSec) and the Chief of Defence Staff (CDS) sat eyeing the screen which showed the scene before the PM.

One of the members of the American team, Maj. Gen. Nathan Walters, nominally an adminstrator in the Pentagon, began to clear his throat. The other person on the team was Carlotta Hills, nominally listed as a deputy assistant to the Secretary of the Department of Housing and Urban Development.

The CNSCS stared at her image on the screen, a mixture of curiousity and foreboding filled his mind. The NSA too pondered where this road would lead them.

Maj. Gen. Walters began, and the men in the adjacent room all leaned towards the screen.

"In the late summer of 1929, the rocketry pioneer James Goddard was able to secure the interest of Charles Lindbergh, and members of the Guggenheim family in space exploration. With their financial backing he set up a small rocket testing facility at the Mescalero Ranch in a little known town called Roswell, New Mexico. Despite the setbacks due to the Great Depression, the Gughenheim family managed to keep the ranch funded, however in the early forties as war clouds gathered over Europe, a strong military presence was allowed to establish itself sub rosa at Roswell. Eventually the facility was host to a series of experiments proving the military value of rockets and the work there served as the starting point for a vast amount of research activity in the field of military and commercial rocket science. "

"The War period saw the Navy Department become the center of a vast range of military R&D activity. The nuclear weapons project, the first rocketry experiments etc... were all initially coordinated from within the Office of Naval Armament. The US Airforce at the time had not emerged from within the Army Department and the Navy was viewed as a logical choice for handling projects involving sophisticated machinery. It was at the Navy's insistence that a new test site for powerful explosives was set up near Alamagordo, New Mexico. However as soon as these weapons were developed, the Airforce emerged as the only service able to deliver them and took charge of the project. The Roswell area eventually came to house a major Army Airforce Base and this base was the node for all the subsequent atomic weapons testing held at the Alamogordo area prior to the end of World War II. After World War II, the Roswell Army Airforce base became the staging ground a wide range of nuclear weapons deployment related activities."

"In the early hours of the morning of June 23, 1947.... "

At this point, the men in the other room began to pull back. They all knew the story, the matter had been uncovered by a young Indian science fiction writer years earlier and then subject to a more thorough investigation. The investigation had provided some startling insights into events in the last fifty years and created as many new questions as it had answered, though not generally regarded as being reliable, the story had become familiar among those that needed to know.

It was almost an hour later that Gen. Walters ended his presentation. He was surprised to see that neither the Prime Minister nor the PPS had any questions.

The PM thanked the General and then turned towards Matthew and simply said, "I will send you my responses by the end of the day." With that the meeting ended, the PM and the PPS left through one door, the Americans were escorted through another.

As the PM and the PPS walked into the adjacent room, the men seated there stood up to greet them. The PM looked and asked "So...".

The NSA spoke first "We need to see something that proves this treaty of 1954"

The CNSCS chimed in, "There is no problem with returning the craft, but this agreement was concluded without our participation. How are we bound by it?"

The Cabsec and the CDS took more neutral postures, the PPS and the PSA said nothing at all.

The NSA continued, "Look we are completely reliant on their inputs for this treaty. While on the face of it, the treaty looks like something we would negotiate, how do we know this is not some elaborate ruse to get us to hand it over to them?"

The CNSCS picked up where the NSA left off, "So is there a finders fee? seems like the rules so far have been finders keepers."

The CDS was now getting a little nervous with the pace of this discussion, "So what if they get angry and do something? can we hold that off?"

The NSA looked askance and said,"By their statements, the treaty itself specifically forbids harvesting the technology to build weapons."

The CDS was more than a little exasperated,"It forbids *DIRECTLY* harvesting weapons technology, there are no limits on lateral exploitation. They could have technology development cycles that run parallel to their investigation and develop technologies which they never actually field, waiting for such eventualities."

The NSA continued,"But if they could take from us by force, they would have done so already.."

The CabSec had had enough, look at the PM, he simply said "that way madness lies.."

There was a long pregnant pause.

The PPS and the PSA had remained silent. It was not the PSA's place to provide political advice and the PPS was holding back in case a deciding vote was needed. He needn't have done that the PM had made up her mind.

"Well.." She cut into the silence, " I have to give him some reply, since there is so much to take in, I might as well tell him the truth, that I need time to think things through", turning to the NSA, "you seem to think that there is something we can verify?... okay proceed."

The CabSec, much as he knew and liked his friend the NSA, could only think one thing,"Well my friend, now you know what it means when someone says you have a very big mouth.."

Turning to the CNSCS, she said, "If there is a political angle, find it". It was not the CNSCS' turn to look worried, had he too like the NSA perhaps bitten off more than he could chew?

The CDS now wanted to disappear before his number came up, but it didn't and the CabSec did his best to pretend like he wasn't really there, it wasn't very hard, it was an art he had practiced for years now, so he too seemed to get away without any more work.

With that the PM trooped out with the PPS and the PSA in tow. Back in the privacy of her office, she turned to the PSA and asked him, "you were very quiet back there". The PSA replied, "It appears that despite all pretences to the contrary, the Americans don't have all the answers either." The PPS joined in, "It was just as well for them that we asked no questions."

The PM looked at the picture of Jawarhalal Nehru on the wall, and said, "you know he was right about the verification, and the political angle is not implausible."

The PPS was a master of sensing the mood, " Why close our options.."

The PSA now jumped in, "Well the best verification would be to make contact ourselves..."

The conversation went around a few more times but died soon after. The men left the office and the young Minister of State for Science and Technology entered.

Late that evening, at the beginning of the inaugural dinner of the Indian National Science Academy's annual session, the PM rose to give her speech. The jaded scientists and bureaucrats anxiously awaited the food and hoped that the PM would get her speech over with so that the gorging could begin, the Kashmiri wazwaan might get cold, then where would India be? such was their state of mind. Within minutes it was clear to the unfortunate scientists that this was not going to be an ordinary speech.

About ten minutes into the speech, an incredulous Director of the Liquid Propulsion Systems Centre stared at his boss, the Director of ISRO. The Director of NAL looked speechlessly at the Minister of State for Science and Technology, whose face gave no hint of emotion.

Half an hour after the PM's speech ended, that the first headlines began to appear on the TV news services, soon after that websites were carrying reports and before long the first opinion editorials were being churned out by blogs everywhere. After that a dozen TV channels were bringing every expert they could lay their hands on to talk about it

Matthew recieved the PM's reply a few minutes before he saw the news on TV. As Matthew watched the ticker run, he eyes narrowed on the words in the letter before him "no further actions pending a more complete evaluation"

By the next day the Gray Lady ofcourse had weighed in on the subject her opinions on what India, a country with 200 million starving people, was capable of and even the Daily Times of Pakistan, widely suspected to be an Inter Services Intelligence mouthpiece ran the following headine,

" Indian Prime Minister says India Will Put A Man In Space Before The End Of The Year".

Matthew was not a happy man, he had been warned this would happen.

The Thar Incident - 9

2006-10-19T11:16:00.000-07:00

Continued from Part 8.

******************
The young assistant professor of Computer Science at IIT Bombay walked towards his office in the bizarre building that houses the Computer Science Department in Powai. Having completed a PhD at MIT and he had returned like so many others to the place he graduated from. Part of the desire to return to India had been due to the poor health of his father, but also no one in the US had any real interest in his branch of Chaos theory and barring a few mathematicians most considered his sub-field too arcane.

Dodging the undergraduates rushing about the halls, he turned the corner past the wooden divider, and he saw his office door ajar. Stepping through it an odd sight greeted him. Seated in his office was his father, and his father's old friend from college. The assistant professor was taken aback. His father occasionally would come down to his office unannounced but his father's friend was an academic celebrity, the country's most respected sociologist, the head of a very influential think tank in Bangalore, his visit usually drew a parade comprising the Director of IIT and the various Deans and atleast a dozen heads of departments, and yet today no one was in sight.

Extremely odd thought... the young assistant professor. Upon sensing the son's entry, the father leaned back to face him and then motioned him to sit in the chair before them. The assistant professor greeted them and began to sit his chair when he realized that he had nothing to offer his guests, he stopped short of sitting and blurted out his mind, "I'm sorry perhaps I should get some coffee from the shack!"

But his father chimed in "no no, I'll get it... this is Professor ..."

The son replied before his father could finish the sentence,"Yes yes, I know.. I am honoured and surprised to see him.."

The father continued "You sit, I'll get the coffee".

The Assistant professor was now even more uncertain, this was incredibly odd, his father never got coffee, he always insisted that the son get it for him. It was part of an old game, they played, the father lording it over the son.

The father shuffled out of the room and his friend, the Sociologist began, " So how is your work going here."

The Assistant professor was confused, why was the sociologist paying any attention to him, their fields and paths had never crossed, but to avoid looking rude, the assistant professor began enthusiastically rattling off details of his more recent work, his graduate students and grants. Very soon he ran out of generalities and began to talk about the specifics of his work, his interest in developing algorithms that predicted specific forms of organizational chaos and the extention of the modelling work done earlier in the US by various corporate groups.

The Sociologist showed no sign of the customary boredom that crept into the demeanour of non-specialists by this point in most conversations, to the contrary the sociologist began to ask pointed questions about the nature of the work and the specifics of the research, curiouser and curiouser, thought the assistant professor. For almost twenty minutes, the assistant professor felt himself being probed by pointed questions from the sociologist. With each passing minute the assistant professor realised that this was not a casual visit, the sociologist simply knew too much about his work.

His father entered precariously carrying three cups of coffee on a small carboard tray. The assistant professor looked up at his father for an instant before he got up to help him with the tray. As he laid out the plastic cups on the table, his mind pondered was this related to something in the government? the assistant professor's father had once been in government, but he never talked about what he did there, some little known department attached to the Department of Cabinet Affairs. The thought appealed to the assistant professor but then why would the government be interested in organizational chaos theory?

The meeting eventually lasted a full hour and half, by the end of the meeting the assistant professor was exhausted. It was only a combination of respect and amazement that kept the assistant professor from asking the sociologist why he was so interested in this work. It was time for the assistant professor to go teach a class and so he requested his guests to excuse him.

The Sociologist suddenly looked at the clock and exclaimed that it had been almost two hours, the assistant professor's father seemed ambivalent but softly told his son to go back to the class and that they would let themselves out. With a few prefunctory goodbyes and a promise of another meeting, the assistant professor left the office.

The father got up to pick up the coffee cups and clear the table, slowly after that he sank into his son's chair and stared at his old friend across the table,

"Well what do you think?" he asked.

"It looks workable, what do you think?", said the sociologist.

The father now replied, "It is much more sophisticated than anything we used in pattern analysis or prediction, but to our defence we never had such computational power before. Before we had access to the Met department's Cray, we had very small statistical models for anything."

Many decades ago, the father had been a bright eyed officer of the Cabinet Secretariat, heading one of the most sensitive and secret teams that attempted to develop advanced computational tools to solve the secretariat's myriad problems. The work was still classified and the small team was now a behemoth, employing dozens of scientists. The father had technically retired almost ten years ago, but does one really retire from "service"?

The sociologist looked on,"So do you think that this is computationally tractable? in present resources"

The father replied, "perhaps, but we need to spur the development of more advanced computational tools any way, so the investment will be worthwhile."

The sociologist's doubts were eased,"in that case we'd better tell him when he gets back.."

They met again later that day at tea at the assistant professor's house, and the sociologist but into his marie biscuit and said " we have a job for you..."

"We want you to give us a way of simulating the spread of information, the flow of an idea across a population. The transit of thoughts and ideas in the minds of a billion, and their reactions. We suspect that this process will be chaotic and prone to all manner of complex phenomenologies and need a clear framework to base our understanding of it on. Would you be interested?"

The assistant professor looked carefully at his father and realised that it was not a question.

He nodded and was about to ask about possible funding commitments,

The sociologist anticipated the question and simply said "Don't worry about anything else just keep your eye on the core problem. Let me worry about the rest."

Now the assistant professor was impressed.

The Thar Incident - 8

2006-10-12T11:07:00.000-07:00

Continued from Part 7.

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

Matthew Wheeler seemed very ordinary. Those that knew him would probably find little to tell you about him because he really had few distinguishing features. To most he was just another of those fake academics that loiter the halls of various foundations that line the beltway in Washington D.C. Most people in the US Internal Revenue Service would be hard placed where these mysterious foundations got their money from, or how they managed to build such enormous buildings and pull together millions of dollars worth of media and information management equipment. A few people in Washington might be able to tell exactly how much money each foundation recieved and a handful of left leaning academics in US universities might be willing to swear on their mothers, that these foundations are the front for the CIA. Conspiracy theorists on the internet might even opine that the foundations are the footfall of the "real CIA", the one which does not answer to Congress and operates solely out of private slush funds created by trade in underworld economies.

All this ofcourse had no relevance to Matthew, a descendant of the second wave of immigrants from England, Matthew was all things American, a wide mixture of ethnicities constituted his ancestry and his forefathers had fought on both sides of American Civil War. The Wheeler family was reputedly invovled in rum running and sugar plantations in the south, but at the turn of the century the Wheelers had moved to Boston and settled into the legal profession. The geneology was cumerbsome but Matthew was a product of a long line of fake academics.

Matthew had served as a correspondent in Nicaragua and Honduras in the 80s when the Sandanista regime was challenged by the Contra rebels. Rumor has it that the Contras were actually growing coca leaves and were processing it into cocaine anhydride for sale on the US market. It was such rumors that had sparked the Iran-Contra investigation that paralysed the Reagan adminstration. Matthew however was simply a reporter in Tegucigalpa at the time, he was called the investigative commission to testify but they quickly found out that he had nothing to say. Years later he had turned up in Bosnia, as a researcher and then later in Kurdish Iraq as an advisor to the Kurdish forces. How a particular Indian consular official came to know of Matthew's connections to the innards of the US government is not well known, but somehow the two had become friends. It was this official who arranged Matthew's visit to India and set up a meeting with the NSA.

Matthew was upset at the NSA's response. The NSA had pretended he had no clue what Matthew was talking about, a fact Matthew knew was not true. So angry with the NSA's response, Matthew had requested an audience with the PM herself. She was quite busy and could only spare a few minutes for him but Matthew's friend the consular official had insisted and managed to get an actual audience. The NSA only heard about the development after the meeting was actually scheduled. The PM had suggested that the NSA continue to feign ignorance and allow her to handle it. With that said, there was little the NSA could do.

The PM met Matthew at the official residence on 7 Race Course Road. Matthew was ushered into the room by helpful Special Protection Group officers who disappeared almost as soon as they appeared.

Matthew now found himself seated before the PM who appeared to be reading a piece of paper before her and somewhat impatiently tapping her right foot.

"Hello" she said raising her eyes towards him and peering above her glasses.

"Hello Ma'am" responded Matthew,

"It seems you have something to say to me", she said quietly.

Matthew was a little unsure but then decided that he would get to the point. Unfortunately for Matthew, the PM was expecting that, having read the NSCS's file on Matthew.

Matthew began without preamble," I believe that your people have come upon an object of great value and significance. The object is not from earth and there is considerable history here that perhaps your people are not aware of."

The PM cut him off "And how does this concern you?"

Matthew was now on the back foot, "The issues are too wide in implication for us to ignore."

The PM replied in a more conciliatory fashion "What do you propose?"

That was Matthew's cue, "I would like to arrange the visit of a briefing delegation, they will inform..."

The PM cut him off again, "Sounds perfectly reasonable, please proceed with due speed."

Matthew suddenly realized that the meeting was over.

As Matthew was escorted out of the 7 RCR building, he realized that the Indians were being very cagey.

The NSA had been watching the whole meeting on the internal video surveillance system on the PPS' office. The two men trooped into the PM's office right after Matthew left. The PM read their minds and said, "we will wait and see what he brings us."

Matthew was on the earliest flight out of Delhi, and when he landed at Muscat's airport, a US military flight was awaiting his arrival. He landed in Washington D.C. some 10 hours later and a waiting car drove him to the White House.

The Thar Incident - 7

2006-06-26T14:12:00.000-07:00

Continued from Part 6.

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

The committee met again. This time the PPS chaired it. His opening remarks had been brief and others had followed with their reports. Now he was summarizing the first round of discussions...

"So we are all in agreement ? - there are two things - firstly all contact with whoever owns this craft is to be kept to highly controlled - subject to a carefully controlled psychological strategy. and secondly a plan needs to be drafted to control the outflow of information from the original event."

He looked around as the heads nodded in assent.

The NSA spoke up quite suddenly,

"unfortunately... there is one more thing... an American has shown up on our doorstep... he claims he knows about the event and he is asking to speak to the PM."

The CabSec cut in... "And he is not a lunatic?"

The NSA replied "No he does not appear to be"..

The PSA asked "What do we know about this man?"

The NSA replied "Very little - we do not know anything about how he came to know of the event..."

The C-NSCS looked carefully and replied ... "Perhaps the Pakistanis at Fort Abbas relayed their radar intercept data?..."

The NSA replied "Possibly..."

The CabSec replied ..." This could be an American provocation...."

The NSA replied "Possibly..."

The PSA continued "It would be difficult to imagine that the provocation is too large - our analysis of the craft suggests a level of technology development.... far in advance of anything we know of"

The C-NSCS quietly suggested... "He could be a representative of the American National Security State.."

The CabSec frowned... "The what???"

The PPS now eyed the CNSCS and simply said.. "Explain that.."

The C-NSCS looked at the NSA somewhat unsure and then began to speak..

"The American state is composed of three visible parts - the legislature, the judiciary and the executive.. the large bureaucracies associated with these parts - obscure from view three other parts of the state... the media/information control group, the political action unit, and finally the spider at the heart of it all - the National Security State."

"These three groups - the media information control group, the political action unit and the national security state represent the core of the goverment. These groups coordinate and control all aspects of the functioning of the the American government and the US based economies."

"Traditionally these groups have been dominated by certain family groups and by key personalities. Their control over the American state is uncontested and they have extensive command over global resources. "

The CabSec cut in.. "How do we know he is one of them..."

The NSA now joined the conversation .. "There is no way to be sure. Only time will tell.. if indeed he is the envoy of these people, a subtle correlation will appear between the way we treat him and the way the American state behaves towards us... it will take time to establish his bonafides - though at the present time any number of people will be willing to vouch for his credentials."

"so what do we do now".. said the PSA somewhat perturbed by these comments...

There was a dead silence as eyes drifted to the PPS. He started at the table in front of him... after that he spoke...

"Even if the American is someone very important - he cannot possibly have answers to the questions we are confronting. It may be worthwhile to hear what he has to say - if nothing else than just to reassure him - but the quest for answers is ours alone - in that sense the American is a sideshow. There is little point in telling him anything unless we know who we are talking to."

The NSA interjected, "He keeps talking about some treaty of 1954.."

The PPS replied.. "There is no way to assume that it is not part of a grand provocation scheme....comfort and reassure him while giving him as little as possible. We have quite a bit more on our hands."

The NSA replied.. "He won't be happy with that..." Looking at the others the NSA was about to say something but decided against it.. and simply nodded.

The CabSec now mused out loud, "If this thing is not from around here and the American has some knowledge of it that we don't... then there is a chance this sort of event has happened before.."

The PSA replied.. "The event must be rare - otherwise it would have been more documented - also the earth is a speck in the emptyness of outer space - the chances that anything collides with us are very slim. If that weren't true large meteor hits would be common. The fact that it didn't burn up in the atmosphere suggests that it had a fairly controlled flight in that region and something happened only as it neared the earth's surface..."

The PPS now interjected... "Too many questions and too few answers... and I have to meet the PM.."

With that the meeting ended.

The Nine Unknown Men -1

2006-06-02T18:33:00.000-07:00

The first of what I hope will be my new comic book. I have based this story on an old Indian legend.

The Thar Incident - 6

2006-06-02T08:08:00.000-07:00

Continued from Part 5.

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

The sociologist from Bangalore squeezed his eyes tight - perhaps if he squeezed hard enough the strange world around him would all go away.

The last two weeks had been exceedingly bizarre. It had begun with a call form his friend from New Delhi at 8 AM - the call had simply said that he was coming down for a quick meeting. The friend was the PPS, a high ranking government official, it all seemed harmless enough until about two hours later when the sociologist found himself standing in the field at the IISc "Student" airfield watching a jet black Dhruv land and his friend leap out just as the copter touched the ground. The sociologist's friend had marched across extent of the mud runway to the old hanger that stood on the side of the airfield, a few bewildered technicians from the aerospace department looked on. The men were working on a new UAV that the aerospace department had developed for atmospheric testing and sampling and were largely used to seeing weird things, but this was a bit much for them too. Very dramatic thought the sociologist - but why?

The sociologist had been completely unprepared for the answer to his question. No sooner were they in arms reach his friend had pulled him close and whispered into his ear - "we have a lot to talk about..." and then literally yanked the sociologist in the direction of the NIAS campus. A few steps down the muddy path to the gate of the airfield and the PPS suddenly asked him..

"So what do you think would happen if people were to suddenly stop believing in God?"

The sociologist was dumbfounded - what in blazes was he going on about? The PPS was not a madman- ages ago he had been the ranking intelligence officer in the Research and Analysis Wing in-charge of activities in the Soviet Union. The collapse of the USSR had happened on his watch and unlike other observers in the field - he had very boldly predicted the fall. His single paragraph memo to the Prime Minister of India at the time had become the stuff of legend.

The sociologist exclaimed "What in heaven's name are your people upto? what has the RAW done.." he stopped midsentence, the RAW no longer existed. The agency had dissolved in a storm of bureaucratic turf wars in the aftermath of Kargil. The horrific bureaucratic wrangling over the RAW's assets had started when the RAW was blamed for the intelligence failure in Kargil. Knives that had for years lingered in the shadows surged forth to slice the agency's throat. It was some miracle that the bulk of the RAW's analysis capability had somehow survived the massacre and been incorporated into the National Security Council Secretariat. The event was a very sore point with the old RAW hands. Correcting himself, the sociologist asked.."What has the NSC done now?"

The PPS eyed him carefully..."Just answer the question" he said..

The sociologist looked away into the distance, a light breeze blew the pink-red petals from the nearby gulmohar trees across his view. He hesitated and then spoke,

"It will be similar to what you saw in the Soviet Union collapse."

The PPS replied "The Soviets did not believe in God."

The sociologist shook his head..

"Not exactly - the Soviets simply replaced theology with an equivalent entity - a careful mish-mash of Dialectical Materialism and traditional politically motivated concepts. These were used to create a moral foundation for the State. The social order was predicated on the dominance of the underlying moral principles. The collapse of the political economy was the result - per some observers - of a gradual erosion of the moral dominance of the state. The Americans claim that they successfully conducted a psywar on the Soviet Elite and seduced them to accept the ideal of freedom over the much emphasized moral foundations of the Soviet State."

The PPS interrupted him," So you say - the moral authority of the state - overtly or covertly draws on a kind of theology - a theology which leads to people accepting certain dogma"

"Yes", replied the sociologist, "all social order retains at its core a sense of dogma, that is very carefully dictated by a theological community. It is this theological community that conducts a psywar on society convincing it that questioning the dogma will cause a disasterous collapse of social order. Obey God's laws or else he will smote you down with a bolt from heaven."

The PPS now mused aloud, "The more dogmatic the underlying theology - the greater the actual mechanisms of social control. The more rules people have to follow. What about societies where a particular theologies don't dominate the state?"

"It doesn't matter - all theology is essentially dogmatic. There is no way to investigate the premises of theology. Secularism doesn't do away with religion - nor does it imply the absence of religion - it merely avoids making specific associations between the state and a particular theology. Even in a so-called secular country - people tend to have religious sentiments and their acceptance of a social order rests on their conception of these very personal ideas of God."

The PPS responded "You are saying that it doesn't matter what the laws are so long as you are convinced that there is a God looking out over you. Even if you are faced with an unjust law - it is ultimately the Lord that will deliver justice to you. Without the concept of a personal Lord, an Isvara, - a God that is devoted to you - there seems little reason to put up with everyone else?"

The sociologist looked askance and said " The Isvara-type concept is impossible to eliminate. It is a permanent feature of human psychology. It is the extreme survivability of this psychological construct that has prompted speculations that it is the psychological mile marker for the pervasive presence of a more fundamental reality - the Purusa or the Paramatman or the Brahman as the ancients used to call it. It is difficult for me to imagine an event that shakes a person or a group of people so substantially that it erodes their belief in a personal God."

The PPS now looked worried, "The Isvara-type concept is independent of theology. So even if theology fails - the Isvara will dictate a person jurisprudence."

"Yes.. A free for all where every man is his own law. Each his own judge jury and executioner." replied the Sociologist, "now will you tell me what the devil this is all about?"

The PPS continued as if he hadn't heard what the man,"The soviets got lucky. The moral collapse of the Soviet state was a slow event. It was not that the population suddenly discovered that the moral core of the state was hollow. A more correct model for a sudden collapse of a state's moral authority..."

"The fall of Saddam's Iraq in 2002." the sociologist completed his sentence.

The PPS now stared back at him, "So we would be staring at complete anarchy?!"

"Not necessarily - but there would be intense flux in social order - at all levels until a new theology was able to establish its grasp. The flux would create all sorts of welts in society and economic and political problems would follow in its wake." the sociologist suggested. "Anarchy - maybe - maybe not, but instability definetely."

The PPS turned to face the sociologist as he gently pushed past the gate of the NIAS and stepped through into the shady courtyard "This all sounds terribly unpleasant..."

The Sociologist was now getting really annoyed..."For the nth time - what the devil is this about!"

The PPS turned away and walked towards the parking lot... "Is there a way to avoid this.."

The Sociologist replied instantly -"Ofcourse there is - we are dealing with human psychology here aren't we?- there is always strong susceptibility to indoctrination. A careful indoctrination in a replacement theology could soften the blow. "

The PPS now stared "A psywar on the target population to make help them chart a path through the new information.."

"All right that's it! I am not saying anything more until you tell me what is going on!!" said the sociologist.

The PPS looked at him carefully and then told him. It took all of five minutes to go through the sparse details, but after that the Sociologist seemed to shrink visibly... a few moments later he sat down on a pile of red bricks left there by a gardener.

"Good God..." said the sociologist.

The PPS now took on a more authoritative tone, " Look - no one can know about this. I want you personally to go through as many ideas on how to conduct such a psywar as possible. No one else is to know and everything has to be handwritten - no electronic signatures - you are not maintain any copies of the documents. If this has to go away - it should go away completely."

The sense of foreboding and amazement that had filled the Sociologist that day still lingered.

As he sat as his desk the sociologist looked at white sadaphuli flowers outside his window - "preindoctrination would have to be carried out... this was going to be quite complicated" ...... he thought some more and then closed his eyes again...

The Thar Incident - 5

2006-05-30T15:16:00.000-07:00

Continued from Part 4.

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

It had taken a week before the debris was recovered from the site and then a week after that the first scientific analysis of the wreckage reached the PSA's desk.

It was in the late afternoon that the PSA sat down and began to read the report that had come from his handpicked investigation team.

The report was handwritten and very simply titled "Technical Evaluation: Survey of Methods and Preliminary Results". The entire report contained about 28 pages of text and equations and each page was a slightly different handwriting as it was written by a different author. Each author had signed his part of the report. The first page of text contained the title and the executive summary which read as follows:

"The debris as presented to us was subject to a variety of scientific investigation methods. The preliminary results of the investigations are presented herein. The aerodynamic design of the vehicle is far in advance of current limits on flight control and dynamics. The propulsion system is an unknown quantity at the present time. The purity of the materials in the debris suggest the use of extremely advanced metallurgy well outside the limits of known aerospace technology. The control circuitry depicts an extraordinarily large scale of integration. The investigation has been unable to determine any of the control algorithms. The initial conclusion supported by these results is that the debris is the product of an extremely advanced technology development cycle capable of almost arbitrary levels of precise manufacture. A biological investigation of the occupants is also attached. A preliminary conclusion is that the samples do not match any known lifeforms."

The page then went on to list which scientists had conducted what specific investigation. The page was signed by the director of the lab. Gingerly the PSA turned the page on the report and began to read the details of the investigations.

The PSA's attention was drawn to the page titled "Microscopic investigation", The text very blandly stated:

"Samples of taken from various points on the wall of the craft indicated a high level of organization and structure when examined under an electron microscope. There were large arrays organized on an atomic length scale. The low levels of repetition and connectivity patterns suggest that this was most probably part of a control system of the craft. It is difficult to fathom what sort of control logic these used, however if it is the case that data was stored in these atomic size structures then a conservative estimate suggests a data storage capability in the range of terrabytes per square millimeter. Structuring of materials on this length-scale is not novel - but build large structured arrays of material at this scale and especially with high levels of reliability to use in a control system - is simply beyond the scope of all known technology. "

The words in the section titled "Propulsion Systems" were even more stark:

"There is no discernable enclosure inside the craft that appears to belong to a propulsion system. It could be that propulsion system appears to enmeshed into the outer shell of the craft. It is unclear how such a system could work or how the craft would actually power it. It is possible that the craft derives its energy (and thence propulsion) by the very act of motion. There is evidence of very high levels of radiation inside the craft. The pattern is uniform suggesting that the craft continously exposed to the source and yet there is no reactor or any other known source of radiation inside the craft. The ambient radiation levels inside the craft would expose a human being to five lifetime doses in under a very short time of exposure. This suggests that the craft has not been designed for human use."

A few pages later, the extremely bizarre biological analysis of the occupants was presented. This was the longest section which began by stating that most of the "bodies" recovered at the site had been subject only to MRI analysis and that only one of the partially burnt specimens was actually physically autopsied. There were a few line drawings of the interesting results. The last few pages of the biological analysis concluded,

"Despite their humanoid appearance there are very few elements of similarity between the occupants and other humanoid species. Specifically the occupants appear to have a circulatory system of some kind for internal energy transport but it is unclear how this system is powered. The tissue matter does not resemble any known biological specimen and some of the body parts do not depict a discernable cell structure and seem more like synthetic polymers. We cannot pin point any sexual differentiation in the samples. The tissues seem utterly transparenent to all manner of radiation. We cannot identify the means used by these samples to acquire and process information. There appears to be no control circuitry which rules out the possibility of these being drones or robots made on earth. All these strongly supports the idea that these samples are of exobiological origin."

As if this wasn't enough, the computational sciences expert had the following words to offer,

"Based on the assumption that data is stored in atomic sized structures spread along the wall of the craft, it is possible to say that the craft appears to warehouse and handle millions of exabytes of data. The ability to process such data is beyond all known algorithms and transmission of such data across even short distances is likely to cause serious degradation due to information entropy alone. A computational algorithm to search such a large database even an indexed one - is largely beyond current science-fiction. "

Normally the PSA would been awash with a desire to throw the report into the trash can besides his desk, however as the list of scientists testified, all nine investigators were high-ranking gazetted officers of the government. Eight out of the nine were recipients of the coveted INSA Young Scientist prize. Half a dozen of those were also recipients of the S.S. Bhatnagar prize for scientific achievement. The remainder were recipients of a number of private prizes like the Birla prize and one of the physicists had been awarded a Padmashree for his role in designing the cores of India's nuclear weapons. The nine scientists were among the most respected voices in India's science and technology establishment.

Wearily the PSA began to rub his eyes and stared at the picture of Homi Jehangir Bhabha that adorned his wall. It was an extremely wise decision on his part to ask his investigative team to keep all documentation handwritten and to quarentine any electronic system that had been near the craft or its occupants.

The Thar Incident - 4

2006-05-26T08:24:00.000-07:00

Continued from Part 3.

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

The Principal Scientific Advisor to the Prime Minister read his handwritten notes of the 0700 AM meeting one last time before he destroyed them. The PSA (as he was more commonly addressed in the bureaucracy) was reputed to have a photographic memory. His notes were only a guide. The meeting had been attented by the Principal Private Secretary to the PM (PPS), the Chairman of the National Security Council Secretariat(CNSCS), the National Security Advisor(NSA), the Principal Scientific Advisor to the PM (PSA), the Cabinet Secretary (CabSec) and the Chief of Defence Staff (CDS).

As he carefully shredded the notes, the PSA's mind wandered as he reflected on the happenings of last night. The voice in his mind ran like an unfettered stream,

"There was too little information to do anything at this point or even to form a concrete opinion, though one would ideally like to prepare for what might happen."

"There were really only two possibilities, either the craft was of terrestrial origin and was the product of a very advanced technology development cycle that we in India had no clue about or the craft was not from Earth."

"Both possibilities were quite worrisome. Over the past 60 years the Govt. of India's policy had invested heavily in the development of technology. The idea was to gradually narrow the technology gap that existed between the developed world and India. This was the key to ensuring that India's economy remained competitive and the political mess that resulted in the fall of the Mughal Empire would not repeat. A decidedly post-colonial paranoia had driven this policy at all levels. If this vehicle was evidence of a completely unknown technology development cycle operating in the developed world - then that would imply that the gap between India and the world economy was far more severe than earlier imagined."

The innate strength that came with a mind capable of intense divergent thinking now raced to the fore, as the PSA now built up the differential analysis.

"Alternatively this craft is not of terrestrial origin and a completely unknown race of sentient beings inhabited nearby regions of space or even possibly lived below the surface of the earth."

This second possibility though troublesome was not nearly as discomforting as it might have been to others in the world. The PSA was after all an Indian. The obsessive emphasis on the idea that Man alone was the pinnacle of divine creation had left Indian theology centuries ago. This idea was actually only prevalent among certain segments of the (non-Indian) adherents of Abrahamic faiths. The idea of a non terrestrial intelligence still posed quite a challenge as it suggested that mankind had inadequately explored its surroundings and quite possibly was not nearly as aware of the laws of the universe as some of the high priests of science would have it believe.

"Perhaps" the PSA had opined at the meeting " the answer to this question will reveal itself - whoever owns this will come to claim it. The time they take to come ask for it will tell us a lot about who they are. If the craft has a homing beacon of some sort they will have an easier time finding it.If they are on the planet then it will take them very little time to act. If they are not from the planet then their response could take time."

"So all that remains to be done now is to learn as much from the craft as possible before whoever owns this comes back to get it. It possible delay the discovery of the craft to facilitate a more thorough investigation."

"What to do when the owner returns? - well that is a more complicated problem, the owner would not be happy and would doubtlessly have more such advanced technology. The first thing that would have to be done would be to ensure that hostilities did not break out. To this end it is best to tell the owner the truth about the manner of the crash and what was done subsequently to investigate it. Another dimension worth considering is to proceed slowly in investigating the craft's apparent occupants, if by some chance the owner wanted the occupants' remains to be intact, it would not do to hand over the remanents of an autopsy. It is best if the investigations of the craft were minimally invasive and any invasive procedure was non-destructive to the best of our knowledge."

The PSA realized he would need a very capable team of investigators with a penchant for secrecy. Reaching for the phone, the PSA called up the director of the only lab in the country that could be relied to perform such testing. A thousand kilometers away at an office overlooking the picturesque Gateway of India monument, a phone rang and the man at the desk reached for it - the director was an early riser, but this was indeed an unexpected call.

While the PSA spoke to his subordinate, the Chairman of the National Security Council Secretariat (CNSCS) was having thoughts of his own. The Prime Minister had handed the task of evaluating the risks in this investigation to him. As there were so many unanswered questions and because the PSA had expressed the possibility of a prolonged investigation, the CNSCS had recommended absolute secrecy in dealing with the matter. The CNSCS knew that despite his secrecy this would eventually leak out and a number of strategic communication plans would have to be drawn up. It was also on the NSCS's recommendations that the Chief of Defense Staff (CDS) had been given orders to conduct a nationwide military exercise. The exercise was supposed to involve having the Army deploy in response to two major disasters in the country. The cover story being released to the press was that chronic instability in Pakistan had forced the Indian Army to push for a series of national emergency preparedness tests. The lie - the CDS hoped would hold off more serious questions about what was being done.

The NSA had stayed behind in the meeting room with the PPS and the CabSec. The NSA had been assigned the task of evaluating the implications of this development on India's foreign policy. The NSA had until recently been completely submereged in discussions with the American and Russian intelligence communities about technology proliferation problems. It was only as a reflex but the NSA now pondered the proliferation implications of this unknown technology.

Thinking aloud the NSA spoke - looking towards the CabSec,

"You know - mankind has never managed to limit the spread of technology. The age of humanity has almost continously been bedevilled with terrible wars on account of technology proliferation. I can almost hear the voice of Leo Szilard in my head - the biggest secret is that this is possible to do - once that is out it is only a matter of time before someone tries to replicate it. What God does not permit - Man will endeavor to do...."

His words hung in the air... he continued..

" What if this had landed on the Pakistani side of the border. What would their reaction have been? Would they have questioned things the way we have? ... what should our reaction be? What should we do if some other nation with more nuclear weapons decides to coerce us to surrender this discovery with them"

The PPS now uncharacteristically cut him off,

"Perhaps you should take the day off to think this through?"

The NSA was lost in his own musings and mumbled his reply,

"Yes perhaps I shall fall sick today."

The CabSec grumbled, "If only all of us could take a day off like that.."

The PPS smiled and shook his head. The CabSec - the mother of the adminstration - perpetually overworked. Gone were the days when the CabSec could comfortably relax as Joint Secretaries did all the work. In the mid 80s under the influence of the reigning secretary C. R. K. Rao, the CabSec's sword-arm the Department of Cabinet Affairs had faded into the background. This withdrawal from the limelight had enabled the secretariat to carefully screen people that demanded access to its time. The result was a more optimal configuration where the Secretariat continued to be the intellectual powerhouse of the Iron Frame of government and yet did not have to bother itself with every random piece of information that popped up. Though he did not weild as much authority and decision making power as the CabSec of yesterday, today the CabSec barely had time to sit. Keeping an eye on things and screening out the problems which could be solved from the ones which couldn't was a demanding job.
This latest mess in the Thar represented a problem that could not be solved. The only thing the CabSec had to do now was to talk to his people to make sure that the secretaries in the MOD and the Finance Ministry would do what they were told. That was about as much time as the CabSec could spare on this. And with few words exchanged the CabSec walked out of the office.

The PPS was a quiet man given to deep thinking about issues. He now shuffled towards his office down the hall, he decided that he would call an old friend, the director of one of the institutes of advanced studies that the Government had set up some years ago. The man he would speak to was the country's highest ranking social scientist, the author of several major textbooks in sociology and psychology. The PPS hoped that his friend would help him grasp the likely trends in public opinion to events that might come to pass. As a very tired and somewhat irritated sociologist reached for his annoying phone in the city of Bangalore, he really had no clue what he was going to be pushed into.

The Thar Incident - 3

2006-05-17T12:24:00.000-07:00

Continued from Part 2.

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

Lt. Amar Singh's men had sent a terse message on the commlink. The commlink was a burst transmitter that utlized reflections from the ionosphere to send a rapid pulse containing a small amount of information in code. The limited bandwidth meant that the message had to be text and when encypted could not exceed a few hundred kilobytes. The S.O.P required that the team moved atleast 3 miles before transmitting again so as to avoid radio triangulation. The team usually only transmitted once in the mission area that too using a Vernam cipher. The one-time pads used for this cipher were precious commodities - absolutely never to be reused - each mission was issued only two - one for a mission report - the other for an emergency.

Upon reaching the site, Lt. Amar Singh soon realized that there was no question of leaving the site or of sending more than one message so he had done his best to summarize the situation, the text message send about 45 minutes ago read as follows:

** Rch Site 2300 IST. lrg unk craft loc. in 100 ft ctr w dbris fld 1 km lg. Fire frm mig crsh vis in dist. LN KARNAL entr ctr & rep. no hum. rem. bt LNK died after 20 min in ctr. LN KAPIL ent. ctr. w same rslt. hazmat drll. not foll. due to haste. Craft apprs. shiny metal and debr. is aerospace type. No plates or mrkings. Tem hlding perim tll. reinf. arr. rept. 2 dead. hlding perim. rqst hazmat asst.**

The message that that the DAE physicist had recieved was more transparent.

"Listen, sorry about the time, but about 100 clicks north west of your position something fell out of the sky. A team reached it on foot but they have lost two members from some kind of hazmat exposure. They claim that the object appears to be some sort of aerospace instrument. I fear that somethings come a falling from space. Initially the boys at Kalagarh had a brief look at it, by looking on the IR mode of the Divya but they can't tell what it is - too much background. The Kalagarh boys are sure that nothing was scheduled to fall from the sky tonight. So this is unexpected and they say it doesn't look like any satellite we have seen before. It could be one of the newer American Misty 2.x s or perhaps even some new kind of UAV. Look I know its late but whoever owns this thing will be down there very quickly - so get to it and secure the site and give us your prelim analysis. Don't bother about the migs, the Divya shots suggest that the pilots are dead, there are no signs of any parachutes and the wreckage can be seen also. Cover story being prepared at Kalagarh is that there was a training sortie that ended in disaster. Newspaper will come with the usual horseshit about mig engines and spares etc... No mention is being made of the other object or anything else. Just get to it and send us your estimates we will send a Mi-26 skycrane from Chandigarh before 0200. and 11 IBG will join you by 0700. You should be out of there before daybreak. Remember there is atleast one hostile satellite pass by 0800 so whatever you do - get out of there before that."

The CO 58 Engineers and the NSC representative had recieved similar messages.

It was 0034 hours when the lead helo landed a few hunded meters from the site. The 22 Para team raced ahead and linked up and relieved Lt. Amar's team. The DAE man, the CO of the 58 and the NSC representative raced ahead. The DAE man fearing contamination had his radiation measuring instruments out. He pointed the geiger counter in front of him and began to read off the measurements. The readings had been scaled with a number to reflect the ambient radiation flux in curies. As they walked towards the crater radiation levels were rising dangerously. The contamination appeared to be airborne.

The CO of the 58 periodically peered at the site through a pair of night vision goggles. Though these wre third generation image intensifiers made in DRDO labs, the rotor of the Mi-8 was kicking up way too much sand for the night vision units to be very effective.

Almost breathless from the sudden exertion of running across the sand, the DAE man stumbled past the 22 Para team which cautiously followed him. As the men lurched up to the edge of the crater and the DAE man shone a flash light on the structure at the bottom of the pit, a barely audible gasp escaped his lips. Neither the bright green glow from the ionization tube nor the almost continuous clicking of the geiger counter seem to intrude - the men simply stood there stunned.

It was the DAE man who first snapped back to his senses as he finally felt the ground under his feet to be unusually warm and moments later the hazardous gas detector began to whine. The detector had found high levels of flourine in the air.

"Get back" he screamed... the C0 of the 58 to turned toward the leader of the 22 Para team almost instantly - " Captain expand cordon to 100 meters. No one is to cross without hazmat suits. There is a pool of molten sand between us and the object. The molten sand is outgassing a toxic compound that kills within minutes of exposure."

The Paras responded immediately and soon most people in the team were suiting up. The CO of the 58 ran to the pilot of the Mi-8 and told him that they would need a bulldozer to move sand and a rover that was kept by BARC folks at the Pokharan test facility. The rover was used for inspections in hazardous zones. As he spoke the could hear the Mi-17s from the Aravali hills approaching the landing zone. He braced for the blast of sand as the lead Mi-17 began its rapid descent. The Mi-8 pilots began to prepare for a trip back to Pokharan.

As the DAE man scurried around collecting his first impressions of the scene. The NSC representative walked around talking to Lt. Amar. The Capt. from 22 Para began to direct the extra manpower from the Mi-17s into a cordon. A medical station was also set up.

It was about an hour or so before the NSC man, the DAE physicist and the CO of the 58 had a chance to consult with each other. With only a flashlight to guide him, the NSC man scribbled their respective reports on a tablet PC. The PC was linked to satcom terminal that had been set up by the NCO from 22 Para only minutes earlier.

By 0152 Hours the Mi-8 had returned with rover but indicated that the dozer at Pokharan was too heavy for it to lift. The NSC man sensing the predicament used the satellite uplink to instruct the Mi-26 Skycrane to make a detour to Pokharan and pick up the dozer. This delayed the arrival of the skycrane by an hour.

The CO of the 58 and the DAE man managed to get the rover to roll out. Luckily the rover was kept at a high level of readiness and the batteries used in it were actually charged. The two men carefully chaperoned the rover to the edge of the crater and gently ushered over the top.

It took the rover some twenty minutes to navigate around the pool of molten sand. In parts the sand had solidified and the rover actually just crawled over the crust towards the shiny metallic object in the pool. It was then suddenly that the crust under the rover gave way and the rover fell into what appeared to be a pit. Fearing that the control cables might snap the DAE man began to articulate the rover's camera arm when suddenly the light from the guide lamp on the arm fell on a bizarre shape and the DAE man froze. He gestured wildly towards the CO of the 58 and the NSC representative and they ran towards him. The Capt. from the 22 Para reached only moments later.

Words could ill describe the emotions that flowed through the minds of the four men as they huddled over the LCD screen displaying the live-feed from the rover's camera.

The DAE man broke the silence - eyeing NSC representative, he said..

"It can't be done today. There is simply too much work here. We have to bury the thing and come back tomorrow - better prepared. The sat recon will pick up the our tracks and everyone will know. I don't think that is a good idea now."

The NSC man nodded and said, "I was completely unprepared for this. We are going to have to implement the Pokaran satellite evasion drill here."

After a few minutes in the huddle. The DAE man shut the rover down and extracted the memory disk containing a copy of the videofeed. The CO of the 58 and the Capt from the 22 Para began to shout out orders to the men.

At 0300 hours the Mi-26 could be heard landing in the distance and a dozer rolled off the ramp. Over the next hour the crater was filled up and the site meticulously camoflaged. In keeping with the cover story released at Kalagarh, the site was now made to look like a coorindation camp for a search and rescue party. By 0500 hours two of the Mi-17 had taken off and inserted people around the wreckage of the fallen migs. The men pretended to be carefully patrolling the land in search of the pilots.

By 0545 hours a completed report of the proceedings of the last few hours ad the video from the rover camera was uplinked to the National Command Post at Kalagarh. And at 0600 the Prime Minister was gently roused from her sleep by an aide.

The Thar Incident - 2

2006-05-16T09:56:00.000-07:00

Continued from Part I.

*****

The turning of the Dhruv's rotors created a mini sandstorm that engulfed the helipad at the Pokharan special test facility. The pad itself was mostly used by high level dignitaries that were visiting the site and occasionally it was used to casevac injured personnel from the site. The IAF usually flew those flights, but this Dhruv belonged to another agency, and the helo was completely unmarked even the tail number was in low visibility gray lettering.

Inside the Dhruv sat a five man team from 22 Para (SF), two officers (a Captain and an Lt. ) and the rest were all NCO or equivalent ranks. One of the NCOs was highly experienced in satellite-communications and the Lt. was actually a medical officer. The men were nominally attached to one of the newly constituted Independent Battle Groups (IBG) that were believed to be in the Bikaner area but as the IBG was at its peace station, the men were available for other work.

As the physicist from the Pokhran site clambered aboard the helicopter, the CO of the 58 Engineers joined him as did the representative of the NSC. A lance naik appeared briefly to and pushed a heavy suitcase containing some basic equipment, a geiger counter, a small ionization detector (both developed at BARC), and a hand held air sampler made by DRDL, the sampler would tell you if there were any toxic chemicals or harmful biological agents in the air.

As the hatch in the back of the copter was shut, the Dhruv gently lifted into the dark night sky and over the din of the rotors the Capt from 22 Para (SF) shouted out to the DAE man,

"Do you know what were are dealing with?"

The DAE man shook his head, "Dunno.. could be anything... all I know is that the NSC says it fell from the sky and took out two of our migs on the way down"

The Capt looked at the NSC man, "We were first told that this might be a SAR for the pilots, possibly across the border... I only got the revised mission profile after we took off... what's the real deal."

The NSC man looked on grimly, and after a long pause spoke, " The pilots are dead.. but lets keep an open mind."

The Capt. looked back somewhat unsure of what to say.

As the Dhruv circled the base, the men inside could make out the shadow of the Mi-8 landing on the pad below. Within minutes the Mi-8 was being loaded up with BL-4 compatible hazmat suits and oxygen bottles. It was a familiar drill for the men flying the Mi-8. The Mi-8 and its crew belonged to the Ministry of Home Affairs. The only points of interest was that the pilots were always armed, and for some reason always wore breathing apparatus. The Mi-8 was originally part of the famed BSF air wing (or "Advani's Air Force" as some had jokingly called it when it was expanded in 2001). Nowadays ofcourse the airplanes were "on loan" to another department - the Disaster Managament Agency - another of the Government of India's secret leviathans that seemed to mysteriously appear out of innocuous line items in the CISF and CRPF budgets.

Unbeknownst to the men in the helicopters at Pokharan other giants were on the move at that late hour. At another NSC managed facility in the Aravali hills, company strength of heavily armed men were piling into three Mi-17 helicopters and the commander of the 11 IBG at Bikaner was being roused out of his sleep by a junior officer holding a single line message from Integrated Defence Forces HQ in New Delhi. The single line message when decrypted would simply read ... "Mobilize".

The Thar Incident - I

2006-05-14T19:02:00.000-07:00

I am still struggling with my scanner, so in the meanwhile I am putting up parts of a story I wrote a few years ago.

*******
Part I.

With a thunderous roar the two Mig 21 MFs attached to the 46th Wing at Bikaner were airborne. At 1500 feet the airplanes leveled off and swung north in the direction of Rohtak. The boys of Viper flight were on their usual night training mission. After the great Indo-Pak crisis of 2002, what had seemed like strenous but boring training sorties in the late nineties, now appeared in a more serious light. There was another somewhat amusing dimension, that the Viper leader, Sqn. Leader Jagan (Jags) Mehra thought about as he radioed the flight control tower at Nal.

"Viper1 to Indigo, Flt 19 at India-5 Papa-89. request route clear".

The control tower at Nal replied :

"Indigo to Viper1: route clear steer to waypoint 1."

Viper1: "roger Indigo".

With that relatively benign conversation, the interesting part of "Jags" night began, training sortie 19 had just ended and Op Wake-Up was now go. "Nothing like putting a little fear of God into the Pakistanis.." thought Jags.

After a relatively sharp blinking of the lights the two migs dove into a sharp turn and came up along a southward facing direction. The Pakistani TPS-73 radar at Fort Abbas had seen Flight 19 dissappear from it screen about 30 clicks north of Nal and could not see the migs now flying at 200 feet.

The migs shot southwards towards that immense sea of sand between Bikaner and Jaisalmer and after about 10 minutes of flying sub-sonic, they reached waypoint 1-Bravo some 50 kilometers from the Pakistani border, right across the TPS-73 at Fort Abbas. It was at this point the lights on the lead mig went off and the wingman followed in suit.

Jags gunned the engine and his Mig 21 - light as a feather due to the absence of any weapons load shot up into the night sky at an astounding Mach 1.5. Wingman Dharam (Dhak) was right behind him.

Some 100 km away at the Pakistani Air Force's 75th Radar Sqn. at Fort Abbas chaos was breaking out...

The duty officer was screaming into the phone to the Air Defence Center at Sargodha, "Bogey inbound, angels 5 and rising.. speed mach 2. "

Wing Co. Mirza at the other end of the line in Sargodha was not very impressed, it appeared that the duty officer was new from the Quetta sector. Op Wake-Up was a nightly event. The Migs were unarmed.

Co. Mirza gripped the phone, "Listen Karim... its alright it happens everyday.. and.."

Karim cut him off..."There is another one, its moving too fast, descending, high altitude and same bearing..."

Co. Mirza was puzzled, "What?! check your instruments" (or head he thought... these boys from radar school what a pain...).

Karim continued, "Sir, bogey and number three object are now same heading almost same altitude.."

Co. Mirza was baffled, "Karim what are you talking about..." he then turned to his duty officer, a more experience PAF Sqn ldr recently posted here from Gilgit. "Aqif can you go down to the data relay center and see what is going on..."

The men in the Aravali hills saw the same thing and moments later Indigo was recieving the same information from another channel. The Indigo duty officer reacted instantly,

"Viper1 warning warning same altitude break off break off..."

Jags and his wingman were puzzled and then perhaps a second too late they saw it...

The fireball that erupted was visible for miles... perhaps it was all a little too close for Lt. Amar Singh of 26 Para (SF) whose unit was present near the border for reasons no one would really want to talk about anyway.

It was havildar Karnal Singh that saw the objects fall some two miles from their position, but Lt. Amar's people weren't the only ones watching, in the sky above a Divya-6 class earth observation satellite from the NRSA was seeing things too.

The men at the regional reception facility saw what the Divya was seeing, and hit the relay button, which put the image on screen at the National Command Post at Kalagarh near Mohammedpur in H.P.

Was Lt. Amar surprised to hear his radio man recieve an encrypted trasmission from the mission controller to head in the direction of the fallen object? perhaps not... but the physicist who was roused out of his sleep by a captain of the 58 Engineers Regt. at Pokharan certainly was. As he groggily answered the phone, his anger at being woken up was replaced by total surprise as he realized who was on the line, and within minutes he charged out of the room and ran past the captain to a waiting Dhruv helo that had mysteriously appeared in the night.

- to be continued.

Dr, Anil Aggrawal's site.

2006-05-12T13:17:00.000-07:00

Hi,

I just found Dr. Anil Aggrawal's personal site. I understand that he write science fiction too. I used to read his columns of forensic science a PIB publication whose name escapes me. It was edited by an acquaintance of my father.

I will write to Dr. Aggrawal soon, I hope he agrees to submit a story for this blog, perhaps one he has written before.

My science fiction blog

2006-05-10T09:19:00.000-07:00

Hi All,

This is my first attempt at making a blog dedicated to science fiction and fantasy in the Indian context.

I think Sulekha has a list of science fiction blogs and so does Adbhut.

There are a few small science fiction associations but for the most part this is a forgotten art in the Indian context.

There is another website which aims to to do the same thing that I am doing, I suppose I should email the webmaster.

Anyway more when I actually get something done.