The Coming of Kalki

by Poulomi Sanyal

  “Good morning sir,” said Zoya tentatively after taking in her surroundings.

  “Aha! There you are,” Dr. Cobb said with a smile, finally taking notice of her, “Miss Zoya Carter. We meet at last. I, Doctor Albert Harold Cobb, Knight Commander of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire, am at your service,” he said with a flair of formality.

  “Oh, no sir,” said Zoya, completely flustered, “I am your student and I am at your service.”

  “Very polite young lady. Just as I heard, just as I heard. Zoya, the bringer of life. Zoya from Zoe meaning life, a popular name with the Ukrainians,” he said affectionately.

  “A Ukrainian name, huh? I didn’t know that. All I knew was that my father named me after someone he admired. I wonder why I would have such a name.”

  “That is for your parents to explain. It is not by accident, I believe. Nothing in this world happens by accident. Now, I should very much like to acquaint you with my laboratory and research team, but before we proceed, do you fancy a nougat?” said Dr. Cobb, extending the plate of candy that was hidden on his desk behind a pile of books.

  “Oh sir, no thank you. I don’t like candy.”

  “Oh, no candy, eh? How about a cup of English tea then?”

  “I think I am okay, but thank you for the offer.”

  “Very well then. Let us walk over to the laboratory and begin our introductions. You will find a fine team there and they will teach you much, about our project and about yourself, I daresay,” said Dr. Cobb as he got up from his chair with some effort and started heading towards the door.

  Zoya got up as well and held the door open for her professor to exit before she herself walked out of the office and closed the door behind them.

  “Professor, may I ask you something?” she said while they were walking.

  “Why of course, anything!”

  “The researchers in your lab, are they all...I mean…you know,” she started, struggling to find the right words.

  “The children of Heka you mean?” said Dr. Cobb, lowering his voice.

  “Yes, exactly.”

  “No, of course not. Sadly, we are not that many. So, you must be careful what you say and to whom. My trusted Post Doc, Christopher, of course, is one of us and he is from Stanford just like you. We will meet him first.”

  “I see, sir. I was also curious—” Zoya began.

  “My, you are a curious lady, aren’t you, my dear,” said Dr. Cobb with a smile. “Well, go on. Don’t be shy. Curiosity is a good thing.”

  “Well, professor, I wanted to ask why Dr. Faraday has an office next to yours.”

  “Ah, that! Excellent observation. Madam Faraday is a Professor Emeritus here. Our laboratory, as you know, is interdisciplinary between the Departments of Electrical Engineering and Neuroscience. So, Wanda and I shared this lab back when she was a professor at Oxford. This was before she left for Stanford, mind you. She longed for a change in the air. The cold and rain was getting too much for her ageing spirit. She craved more sun and wanted her own gardens and a bright little library. So off she went! Now, I share this lab with Dr. Lee. You will meet him eventually.”

  When they walked into the lab about five minutes later, it was practically deserted.

  Too early for students to be awake, thought Zoya, giggling to herself.

  “My my, the lads are not here, are they? The tardy little fools,” grumbled Dr. Cobb with an affectionate but reprimanding air. “One day, they will understand the value of time. Time, the fourth dimension, it escapes us, and we use it not to our benefit. And even Chris. I cannot believe that he would not arrive. I thought I could count on—”

  “There is no need to worry Albert. I am right here,” said a smiling young man who suddenly appeared from behind a set of equipment in the far corner of the elongated room.

  Zoya immediately startled at the sight.

  “You! You,” she shrieked out. “I have seen you before, but where... oh, yes… that day at the airport! You were the ham in the mat, I mean man in the hat who saved my life!” She jumped up as her memory was jogged.

  Everyone roared with laughter.

  “Ham in the mat, eh? That would make a fine contemporary dish, I would imagine. Wouldn’t it, Chris?” said Dr. Cobb, still laughing.

  “Yes, it would. Except, she was referring to me as the ham in the mat, so I seem be the dish here,” said Chris and they both roared with laughter. Zoya blushed.

  “Anyway, jokes apart, you are correct, I am the guy you saw at the airport on the day of the blast.”

  “No way! Why did you pretend that you didn’t know what I was talking about, when I confronted you,” said Zoya, looking hurt.

  “By now, I am sure you understand that, my child. We have to be as discrete as possible,” Dr. Cobb chimed in.

  “Oh, I see. It was a secrecy thing,” said Zoya feeling better.

  “Yes. And I did not want to scare you, that too, in a public place,” Chris added.

  “Anyhow, introductions seem unnecessary now, Zoya, since you recognize Chris, and Chris, you have known Zoya for long. So, I will beg your pardon and return to my affairs while you take your time to learn what you can from Chris and the others when and....if they arrive.”

  “Oh, they will arrive,” said Chris, “but not before lunch,” he concluded with a smirk.

  Dr. Cobb waddled off shortly and Zoya was left in Chris’s company for the rest of the day. It was Thursday and she had no classes today. So, her Thursdays’ had been designated for research.

  “Why did Dr. Cobb say that you have known me for a long time, Chris?” asked Zoya when the professor had left.

  “Hmmm. He is getting a little senile. There is no need to worry. I have not really known you in the true sense of the term but known about you, perhaps.”

  “Oh, I see. Is that because I was being tracked since childhood? A long time ago, Dr. Faraday told me about a tracking software.”

  “Yes, you are correct. But that is not all. Before I get into that, do you want some coffee? We could sit down at a café nearby, because I am sure you will have follow-up questions.”

  “I am sure I will. Yes, that works for me. The café’s here are really nice.”

  “Yes, some of them are. The Brit’s are very fancy pants.” Smiled Chris.

  “Haha. True that.”

  * * *

  Chris locked the lab door behind them and led the way to a cozy little café right outside of Campus. It was warm inside with soft little couches and rounded coffee tables.

  Zoya ordered a large mocha with a freshly baked scone. She had skipped breakfast in order to be on time for the meeting with Dr. Cobb, so, she was starving. Chris got himself some tea and a blueberry muffin.

  “Chris, you didn’t tell me your last name,” said Zoya sipping her coffee once they were seated.

  “That would be Wright.”

  “I know it’s right. So, what is it?”

  “What is what?”

  “Your last name,” said Zoya, sounding confused.

  “It’s Wright, my last name is Wright, W-r-i-g-h-t,” he spelled out.

  “Oh, haha, my bad. I get it, Chris Wright.”

  “Right!” said Chris and they both laughed at the pun.

  “Dr. Cobb was in such a hurry, he didn’t really introduce us, did he?”

  “No, he didn’t. I wonder why he was in such a rush. Something must be up,” said Chris as his face became suddenly grave.

  “What do you think it might be?” asked Zoya.

  “I am not sure and even if I knew, I wouldn’t be able to explain it to you without giving you the full context. So, let’s start at the very beginning. You were asking me how I knew you, when you didn’t.”

  “Yes.”

  “We had tracked you down with the help of the software, as you know, but the software isn’t full proof.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Well, it can point to a geographic area where a Hekameses might be born to the
accuracy of a couple of degrees of longitude and latitude and also predict the time of such birth down to a few minutes plus or minus. However, there are usually many infants that are born in that area and around that particular timespan. The challenge is to narrow the choices down to one by the method of elimination, and for that, someone must be appointed to track the individuals who are shortlisted and figure out who among them is a child of Heka. The only way to do that is to observe them in person from the age of around fifteen onwards and search for clues of their abilities. I was the one appointed to observe you since you were fifteen. It didn’t take me long to figure out that you were one of us. After that, I used to keep an eye on you as often as I could till the time came for us to tell you.”

  “I see. Quite a story. I can’t say that I’m not creeped out, though.”

  “A normal reaction. But I had to. I’m sorry. I hope you understand,” said Chris with a genuine sincerity in his voice.

  “Makes sense, I suppose. How did you figure out that I was who you were looking for?”

  “That is a story for another time. Today there are important things that we need to cover for your own good.”

  “You mean about our research or about the organization?”

  “Both, because they are interconnected.”

  “Great. I am excited to find out.”

  “What you find out may be exciting, but what you might have to do with that finding, is another story.”

  “Oh, why is that?”

  “Because the future of the world and everything we hold dear is hanging from a balance and we need to do something, quick.”

  “Is it that bad? Lucky you were there at the airport to warn me on that very day of the attack then, for which by the way, I have not thanked you properly yet. Thank you, really, you saved my life!”

  “You are welcome Zoya, but luck had nothing to do with it. I was there on purpose.”

  “How come?”

  Chris pulled out a piece of folded paper from his pocket and handed it to Zoya. She opened up the page and inspected it. It was blank except for two printed lines;

  ‘We are legion. We are coming.’

  And below these lines on the right-hand corner was a printed sign or symbol shaped like an eye. It looked almost like a rune or a carving on an ancient ruin.

  “What is this?” she asked in awe.

  “It arrived at your home in your name that week. I recovered it from your mailbox.”

  “Oh! So, it’s you! You are the thief that mom thinks was stealing our mail.”

  “Not stealing your mail. I was keeping an eye on your mail, among other things. Others in our group have received messages like this and we had a tip that you might be next. We didn’t want to frighten your family before you knew the truth.”

  “My God! That sign at the bottom…where have I seen it before?” Zoya wondered out loud, “Oh! I remember, it was spray-painted on the door to my dorm room the day Nancy…” she could not complete the sentence. “I saw the picture in the paper later,” she finally managed to say. “What can it be?”

  “It’s the sign we fear, the mark of Aifra.”

  “Oh, wow, what does that mean?”

  “We are being hunted.”

  “You think they know about us? The Hekameses?”

  “We are not sure how, but it seems that they might have learned about our powers, yes.”

  “But how did you know about the attack at the airport that day? That letter only says they’re coming. Nothing more.”

  “We weren’t sure, but we had a hunch. They have a pattern of attacking airports and you were also travelling on that day which made the attack doubly likely. So, when Dr. Faraday learned about your travel plans from Student Housing, she had me posted at the airport for your protection.”

  “Does that mean even if we don’t fight them, we are not safe?”

  “You got it. But if it’s any consolation, neither is anyone else. They will destroy everything if no one can stop them.”

  “How can that be a consolation? They even took Nancy. Why her, for crying out loud?”

  “Can you not think of any reason why they would?”

  “I think I have some idea. It has got to do with the people she was hanging out with—”

  “Tch tch,” said Chris in disapproval. “That’s not it. At least not completely, anyway.”

  “Oh?”

  “We don’t think it was Nancy they were after.”

  “No?” said Zoya looking puzzled. “Anh!” She suddenly gasped, covering her mouth with both hands, as understanding dawned. “It was me, wasn’t it? They were after me!”

  Chris did not respond, but his eyes softened into an almost apologetic look that spoke without words. Zoya covered her whole face in her hands and tried desperately to hold back the large salty drops that were gathering rapidly behind her eyelids. But it was in vain. Knowing that Nancy had been attacked was one thing, but now she felt personally responsible. It was her fault. Could she ever forgive herself? She could not. At that moment, she felt a gentle hand on her arm.

  “It’s not your fault,” came Chris’s voice from across the table as if he had read her thoughts and perhaps he had done just that.

  “I’m sorry,” mumbled Zoya, uncovering her face and wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. Chris’s hand was still on her arm and it felt comforting.

  “Don’t be. We could be wrong. But if they know about you, then you are safer here and the people you love are safer in your absence. That is why we were trying so hard to get you out of the country.”

  “Thanks. How is it safer here?”

  “There are many reasons, but at least initially, because they will most likely have lost your trail.”

  “For now.”

  “For now, yes. So, we have gained time and time is precious. Talking of which, are you feeling up to heading back to the lab? There is much I would like to show you.”

  “Yes, I am alright. Let’s go,” said Zoya and then she hesitated.

  “What is it?”

  “She is not dead you know, Nancy. I am sure of it. They didn’t find her body. She is alive. I will find her. You will see!”

  “Perhaps, you’re right. We can help,” Chris assured and then added in a low whisper, “But be careful what you wish for. You may not like what you find.”

  “Huh?”

  “Nothing. Just saying that we will help you find Nancy. Let’s head to the lab now,” said Chris getting up.

  “Thanks, Chris. Yes, I am coming.”

  CHAPTER Nineteen

  On a crisp, sunny morning in February, a lady in a full length, long-sleeved, high-collared, white cotton dress with floral patterns and a cream coloured shawl, wrapped around her shoulders, covering her face and head, walked slowly but deliberately towards a bright yellow, Egyptian-style country house with turquoise coloured windows. The brick and mortar pathway to the house was lined with a manicured garden of tall date palms and shady olive trees. Here and there along the path were occasionally flowering wild cacti. The air was nippy but dry and laden with fine grains of sand and dust. The morning was young and the pale blue, cloudless, sky peeped into the garden through the gaps in the canopy.

  Arriving at the house, the lady knocked gently and a very old, bent man with a long, silver beard answered the door:

  “As-salaamu aleekum,” she said with a smile.

  “Wa-aleekum as-salaam,” replied the elderly caretaker.

  “I am looking for Amon.”

  “Yes, come in,” said the old man as he led the lady into the bright, spacious living room of the country villa. “Wait here,” he added, showing her to an armchair and disappearing through a door on the southern wall. A few minutes later, another gentleman, younger but not less than mid-fifty, appeared out of the same door in his place. He was over six feet tall, with broad shoulders and a stout muscular physique. His attractively strong, rough-hewn features were framed with dark, wavy and rather long hair that spilled over his
forehead in careless strands. He quickly walked up to the lady in the armchair and smiled graciously, bowing a little.

  “So very good to see you in Faiyum again, in my humble home, Wanda,” he said, appearing truly delighted.

  “And it is good to see you,” replied Wanda Faraday with a smile. “Your home is just as I remember it. Are you still using this portion as a guest house?”

  “I was, I was, until recently. There were some incidents.” He lowered his voice to a hoarse whisper. “So, I had to stop. The tourists did not want to rent it any more. The word spread, and they were scared.”

  “Some incidents? What kind?” There was a rustle near the doorway that lead to the adjacent room. “Who is there?”

  “Oh, it’s just me, Abu with the tea for the madam,” answered a shaky voice as the frail figure of the old man who had let Wanda into the house, tumbled out of the shadows carrying a tray containing two cups, a decorative tea-pot and a bowl of sugar.

  “Ah, thank you. Please set it here on the coffee table,” said Amon. Abu did as he was asked and proceeded to serve the tea.

  “It’s okay. We can take it from here. You can go back to the kitchen,” said Amon, plainly urging him to leave immediately. “The tea is cold. How long have you been waiting at the door?” he added.

  Abu gave a quick start and almost dropped the tea-pot he was setting down.

  “Not long, sir. Please forgive me. Should I warm it up again?” he managed to mutter.

  “No, that’s all right. You may go and please close the door,” said Amon.

  Abu waddled away reluctantly to the adjacent room and closed the door behind him.

  “How long has Abu been around? I don’t remember seeing him the last time,” Wanda inquired.

  “He has been here for years. My grandfather brought him here as a boy. He may have been in his village when you were here last. He has some family there and he goes to see them once or twice a year.”