Black Hole Oblivion Page 2

  Anara struggled to prevent the alarm from showing on her face. What did the PM intend to do?

  “I've ordered Antariksh to be prepared for a new mission,” the PM went on, relentlessly. “Time is short. We must get your crew on board. You have two days to launch. Fortunately, our weapons are still on board.”

  Understanding dawned on Anara. She'd just become a pawn, a mere foot soldier, in a galactic war. Only, it wasn't just any war; this would be genocide.

  “I'm afraid I don't understand, sir.” She turned in her chair to follow his figure as he paced around. “Surely you're not referring to the nuclear devices? That would be insane!”

  “Insane, Anara? Insane? Was it not insane, what they tried to do to our city? Was it not insane that they tried to destroy thirty million lives? No! This is not insanity! This is justice!”

  “Justice? How is it justice to destroy a whole civilisation for the… the… the mistake of a few individuals?” She got to her feet. Ryan followed suit, keeping quiet for the moment. “An eye for an eye will make the world blind!”

  “Don't try and get all self-righteous on me, Anara. Let me worry about the ramifications. Your job is to fly the ship.” The PM stepped forward and came face to face with her. “Don't forget you're just a pilot.”

  Confusion gave way to raw fury and her face turned red. She looked at Ryan to steady herself before speaking, and she saw the same anger reflected in his face. Her thoughts became clear, and her resolve strengthened.

  “Thank you for the confirmation, sir. Since I am only a pilot in your eyes, then I’m sure you will have no trouble finding someone to replace me on Antariksh to carry out this mission of yours. I resign my commission with immediate effect. I would rather die than carry out genocide.”

  With that, she saluted smartly, turned on her heels and stomped out. Ryan followed her without hesitation, leaving the Prime Minister fuming in their wake.

  ◆◆◆

  They exited the PMO and turned right down the wide Rajpath. They continued to walk in silence for nearly an hour till they reached India Gate.

  The massive memorial to the 70,000 soldiers, who had died two centuries ago in the First World War as part of the British Indian Army, was surrounded by 3D holograms depicting scenes from the battles fought by the Indian Army in the years since. Children and adults alike participated in the virtual display with excitement.

  Anara and Ryan joined the crowds in front of the Amar Jawan Jyoti, the eternal flame, a tribute to the Unknown Soldier. Thankfully, they had donned plain jackets over their uniforms, and nobody recognised them as they stood in comfortable companionship, watching the tongues of fire dance mesmerizingly in the twilight.

  “Let’s go sit over there on the grass, Ryan,” Anara said, finally.

  They navigated their way through the light traffic and sat down in the garden. The temperature dropped rapidly as the sun disappeared and dark shadows covered the ground. The Rajpath was a wide tree lined avenue flanked with gardens on both sides. Every summer evening, it turned into a large fair ground with families coming over to relax in the cool evening breeze. The sky above twinkled not only with stars, visible in the clear skies, but also with the blinkers from the mass of airborne vehicles and drones.

  A few minutes later Ryan got to his feet and wandered off somewhere, but she did not mind. Anara enjoyed sitting alone in anonymity, watching the families frolicking around. The cool grass and the gentle breeze lifted her spirits, though she was still riled at the PM’s attempt to browbeat her.

  She watched as Ryan returned, bearing egg rolls, expertly dodging the children playing handball.

  “Here you go,” he said, handing her a roll and settling down on the grass beside her. He took a large bite from his own roll. “Man, I was hungry. This is good.”

  “By any chance, are you trying to cheer me up?” asked Anara as she tried her own roll. She was hungry too. She took another bite and looked at Ryan, waiting pointedly for an answer.

  “Not really. I know you’ll come around in your own time. I can’t do anything to hasten up your complex thought process. I’ve known you long enough.”

  She did not answer immediately, trying to compose her thoughts. “He’s changed, Ryan. I could not believe it was the same person who told me at our first launch two years ago, that we are going in peace into interstellar space. Now, I find he knew about the hidden nuclear weapons on my ship. At least, the last time we did not use the weapons except to threaten the TrueKif. But now? Now he’s asking us to go to KifrWyss and wage war using nuclear bombs. What am I, his personal mercenary? No. We did the right thing walking out of there.”

  “The right thing, perhaps, but was it necessary to resign your commission? Wasn’t that a bit extreme?”

  “You supported me, didn’t you? You walked out right behind me. If you didn’t agree with my decision you could have stayed back.” She was annoyed with his apparent lack of faith in her decision.

  “And I support you now, but wasn’t your reaction a bit extreme? Is provoking the most powerful person in India the practical way forward?” He was convinced about her decision, just not her means.

  “I don’t know,” she sighed. “I still think it was the right thing to do. The KifrWyss are not at fault. RyHiza told us, didn’t it, how they had raised the human children and taken care of their safety? How can we then think about punishing an entire planet for this attack in Mumbai? The attack was the handiwork of a few individuals.”

  Ryan nodded. But he still looked concerned. “What will you do now? You have no ship and no crew.” He could always go back to the US, but he knew she was too deeply in love with space exploration.

  She sighed. “Maybe I’ll retire to my hometown, Kasauli, and start working on my memoirs.”

  “Yeah, be sure to let me know how retired life works out for you,” he smirked. “You’ll be out of your mind in no time and looking for your next space trip. I know you too well. I suggest you go and sleep over it.”

  She looked away. A mild breeze ruffled her dark hair and she put a stray wisp back in place. “Sleep won’t come easy. I keep thinking about Rawat, and now more and more about RyHiza. It had asked me for help personally. I wonder whether it is still alive. God knows what the situation is on the ground on KifrWyss. The Chairman has proven that it is ruthless. It will not spare RyHiza. And now I have lost the only chance I had of going back and helping it. I… I really don’t know if what I am doing is sensible. Sometimes our decisions continue to haunt us, no, however justifiable they may be?” Anara stopped speaking and was lost in her own thoughts.

  Ryan let her be. She needs time.

  ◆◆◆

  It was past 1 a.m. when they walked back to their hotel. Their rooms faced each other on the same floor.

  “Good night,” Ryan called as she opened the door to her room. She gave him a cursory wave, closed her door and wearily leaned against it.

  She tossed her jacket on a chair and threw herself on the bed face down. Tomorrow, she told herself. Tomorrow, she would pack and leave. She closed her eyes, willing her mind to rest.

  She must have drifted off to sleep at some point, because the next thing she knew, the room AI butler was waking her up softly.

  “Ms. Anara, you have visitors.”

  “Who is it?” she mumbled. “Tell them to come back tomorrow.”

  “I’m afraid that is not possible. It is the police. They have override authority.”

  “Override authority? Police? What do you mean override authority?” She raised herself from the bed. “Who is it?” she called out.

  “Captain? Captain Anara?” a female voice came through the door.

  “Yeah. What do you want?”

  “You are required to present yourself at the PMO immediately.”

  “I have nothing to do with the PM or his office. In case you haven’t heard, I have resigned and I no longer answer to that authority. So, go away.”

  “Captain, please open the door. We have
orders to bring you with us.”

  Crap, she thought, her anger rising again as she stomped to the door and jerked it open. He can’t order me around, so he sends the police to arrest me?

  “I told you, ACP,” she said, glancing at the stars on her epaulette and deducing her rank, “I don’t have anything more to do with the man in the PM’s office!”

  “But… but... haven’t you heard?”

  “Heard what?”

  “The PM was sacked a short while back for his role in the conspiracy. Apparently, they have evidence that he authorised the use of stealth-tracking of citizens during the terrorist attack in Mumbai. President’s rule has been imposed and the Speaker of the Parliament is the new interim PM. It is she who has asked for you. I’m under orders to bring you in, no matter what.”

  Anara was stunned. Events, it seemed, were unfolding faster that she was able to cope up with. Ryan stepped out of his room just then, pulling her out of her reverie.

  “Won’t hurt to hear hearing what the new PM has to say, right? If it’s more of the same, then you won’t even have to resign again. You can just walk out,” commented Ryan, his face deadpan. Anara raised her eyebrow at this weak attempt at humour.

  “You have been summoned too, sir,” the officer told him. “Please come with me. I have a vehicle waiting outside.”

  2

  Compromises

  The transparent canopy of the police car provided a wonderful view of the night sky and the multitude of airborne vehicles, even at that time of night. It took them less than five minutes to get back to the PMO, the central traffic computer having cleared a direct path for their police vehicle. Even at 3 a.m., the area outside the PMO was a hotbed of activity with news drones, bots, a few human reporters and their equipment jostling for vantage points, even as uniformed security personnel and security-bots held them back behind barricades.

  Their vehicle turned left a little ahead of the complex, doubled back and landed at a relatively deserted side entrance. A waiting security guard led them indoors. The lateness of the hour and the stress of the last few days were finally taking a toll on Anara. She felt drained. She had no strength left to argue with anyone. She didn’t know what the interim PM wanted from her, nor how she should react. One thing was clear, though, she would not participate in mass murder.

  “Let's not linger, Ryan. We'll just let her make her pitch, nod our heads, say no, and get out of here. I’ve have had enough of politics. Can’t they understand the TrueKif are our enemy, not the entire race of KifrWyss?”

  “So, when you say nod the head and say no, you're actually referring to your great Indian head bobble, right? The PM would not know whether you’re for or against her plan. Then you can get away with anything!” Too spent to even smile, she looked at him, shook her head in exasperation and strode on.

  The secretary at the door to the PM’s office ushered them inside immediately, disregarding the gaggle of senior bureaucrats and political officers waiting outside for an audience with the PM.

  They entered the brightly lit room for the second time that day, to find the new PM staring out the windows at the garden outside. A number of viewscreens dotted the walls, displaying data or replaying the news mutely. The PM did not acknowledge their presence, and they stood waiting awkwardly.

  Looks like it's going to be a passive-aggressive play. Okay then. Lead me on.

  Finally, the secretary gave a small cough, and the PM turned around. Her visage gave nothing away. She nodded and the secretary turned and exited the room.

  “Thank you, Captain Anara, for coming back. It has been a difficult day for our country. I have been briefed that you knew about the Prana Protocol, the attempt to invade the privacy of our citizens in Mumbai during the terrorist attack. It seems our ex-PM had authorised the use of the clandestine protocol even though it was illegal.”

  Anara and Ryan looked at her in silence.

  Is this about punishing us for being part of the NIA team which broke the law?

  “Be that as it may, a new interim government is in place now. I intend to carry on the task of my predecessor even while we wait for the final government to take shape,” said the PM. “I'm aware it must be been difficult for you but as you have probably been told many times today, you're our only hope in these demanding times.” Her voice was soft, controlled, though she looked as worn out as Anara herself felt.

  “I don’t think so, ma’am. There are quite a few pilots with ISC who can take my place.” Pilot is what the earlier PM had called her. Pilot, indeed! “Besides, I'm sure they've told you that I resigned my commission yesterday. I can't help you anymore.”

  The PM smiled. “Unfortunately, Captain, you may have resigned but that doesn't mean you're no longer in service. There's the little matter of your resignation being accepted, and you being discharged from duty. Till such time, I'm afraid, you'll have to do as I say, unless you want to face a court-martial. Do you?”

  Cat-and-mouse games. Alright. Up the ante.

  “You've evidently thought this through, ma'am,” she said calmly. “I'm ready for whatever charges you want to throw at me. But, let me make it clear once more—I will not be a party to the hair-brained genocide scheme of your predecessor. Clap me in irons if you must, but I will not do it.”

  The PM sat down behind her desk, regarding Anara with half-closed eyes. “Uh huh. I thought you'd have this reaction. However, I want you to hear me out first. All right?”

  “As you've so elegantly stated, I'm still under your command. We'll listen.”

  “That's sufficient. I'm going to ask General Singh and Mr Arya to join us now. Have a seat, Captain. Commander.”

  The Chief of Staff of the tri-forces and the National Security Advisor. She's bringing out the big guns.

  They had to only wait a few seconds before the two officials entered the room. The PM gestured them all into seats while she herself stood up and paced around. She gathered her thoughts before speaking.

  “You may not be aware, Captain, but my predecessor has pulled India out of the 8. Our country now stands alone in this fight.” She glanced at the seated folks to ensure she had their undivided attention before continuing, “It is also important to note that I don’t agree with this decision, nor with his plan to wage war against the KifrWyss terrorists. However, we cannot allow this challenge from the TrueKif to go unanswered. You have to understand that we have to respond. That is why we are going to initiate plan B—the capture of the leaders of the TrueKif so they may be brought to Earth to stand trial for their crimes against humanity. It will require the help of the 8 of course, and for that I am prepared to go back and apologise for whatever has happened so far. But I need a solid plan first.”

  The PM nodded to the general, who took up the narrative.

  “We've been training a company of commandos for space travel and interplanetary warfare. This group is called Joint Interstellar Task Force, the JITF. It is led by Colonel Alan Fraser of the British SAS. The soldiers have been drawn from the best special forces around the world—the British Special Air Service, the US Navy SEALS and the Indian Navy Marine Commando Force, MARCOS. They are ready for deployment. We are going to deploy five sections, fifty troopers, for Mission Trikon. They’ll travel with you to KifrWyss, locate and neutralise the TrueKif and capture their leaders.”

  “Sounds like a great plan, General.” Anara couldn’t hide the sarcasm in her voice. “Fifty soldiers on an unknown world to find one set of people. I’m sure that’ll be a cakewalk.”

  The NSA smiled. “That’s why it’s important that you are part of the mission, Captain,” he said. “You have first-hand knowledge of the planet and its people. More importantly, when RyHiza faced a revolt it reached out to you. Clearly there is more at play here than just friendship. They need us, and our evaluation is that the Discat will be happy to receive any help we can give them.”

  “You’re asking me to use my friendship with RyHiza and get it to help us wage war on its world? H
ave you lost your mind? Why would it do that?”

  The NSA leaned forward. “They are desperate, that is why. You heard RyHiza’s message. Our analysis has deduced that the Discat is under tremendous pressure. In fact, we believe that we might already be too late to help them. More than three months have passed since the message was received. At least eight months will pass before you reach Alpha Centauri again. Fortunes change daily in war. What do you think will happen over months?” The NSA glanced at the PM for support.

  “Don’t you want to help your friend, Captain Anara?” asked the PM softly.

  They got her, thought Ryan. She never lets her crew and her friends down. Never. He could see Anara visibly wavering. The strength of a leader is not how fast they hold on to their principles, but what they are willing to give up for their followers. He thought she was a great leader, with some faults.

  “And we will not be forced to carry or use nuclear weapons?” Anara asked. “Will you give us your word on this?”

  The PM looked uncomfortable. “They will be only be on your ship as a deterrent. The weapons of last resort. You and only you, Captain, will have the launch codes. You can decide if you want to use them or not.”

  The deal was being sweetened.

  “There will be no tactical orders from us. You will have absolute control over all aspects of the operation. Colonel Fraser will control the military ops. You only have one objective—bring back the Chairman to Earth, dead or alive.”

  This was not an operational decision. She had to trust her guts. She was torn between her desire to help RyHiza and punish the Chairman, and her hatred for nukes. Anara met Ryan’s eyes and he gave her a slight nod of support. Oh what the hell! In for a penny, in for a pound. Let’s do this. Better than sitting at home writing memoirs.