Digital God

by Nikhilkumar Singh

  ‘Yeah, it’s called a garage sale. Not auction,’ Darshu said.

  ‘That’s insulting.’

  ‘Are you coming or do I have to go all alone, again?’

  ‘Okay, I’ll listen to you just this once. But I’m still your boss. Remember the agreement.’

  ‘Yeah, that you are my boss and I work for your PR firm.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘It’s not just any PR firm; it’s Biz-Bazzar PR firm that promotes www.BizzareBazzar.com. Are we done?’

  ‘You know the drill. What about the elevator pitch I asked you to prepare?’

  ‘Hi, I’m Darshana Soni, vice president, business development, for Biz-Bazzar PR,’ Darshu began methodically. ‘We tie together business stories from government offices, manufacturing units and industries, so you get to know what’s making news. And we have our own website that’s bizarre enough to make you stand up and take note of what’s making news. It’s biz dot bazzar dot com. Here’s my card. Maybe we can set up a time to meet and talk about your business needs and get your company to make some positive news? And my job already sucks. But the money is good. Otherwise, I’d have never taken up this offer.’

  ‘Yeah, my job sucks too, but you are perfect!’ he said.

  Thirty minutes later Darshu and Kanu were at High Street Mall – a premium shopping area with a wide, palm-lined street with swanky stores, galleries, restaurants and gaming zones – in Lower Parel.

  ‘Damn, that’s something,’ Darshu exclaimed, looking at an advertisement that had Rana’s face plastered on a huge billboard looming above. ‘It seems Rana is invited as a chief guest at the NASSO IT conference in Pune,’ she said.

  Rana’s thin, inviting smile, coupled with the text below, gave away the hidden message. This is your last chance to meet the legendary Rana Rajput in person, the artwork proclaimed.

  Kanu stood back and looked at the poster with intent. ‘Yup, time to make a visit to Pune,’ he said.

  SEVENTEEN

  5 January–12 July 2008

  I

  n the early hours of 15 February 2008, the reception area of Gulmohar Taj Hotel, a 120-room luxury hotel in Pune, was silent except for the swish-swish of a uniformed cleaner mopping the multi-coloured marble floors. The entrance doors opened and a young man dressed in a sky-blue uniform wheeled two bulky suitcases to the front desk.

  ‘Good morning, sir,’ the smiling receptionist said. ‘Welcome to Gulmohar Taj.’

  ‘Good morning. I think, my admin has made a reservation for our stay. Here, this is my business card,’ Kanu said, sliding his visiting card on the marble surface of the front desk. ‘Could you please check?’

  Kanu was dressed in a tailored black suit with a white shirt and a black necktie. He hadn’t removed his dark glasses, even inside the dimly-lit lobby. The receptionist clicked the mouse and peered into the monitor below.

  ‘Mr Radha Krishna from Biz-Bazzar PR?’ she asked without looking up.

  ‘That’s correct.’ Kanu smiled. ‘And she is my companion.’

  Kanu looked over his shoulder and saw Darshu walking towards them. Darshu flashed her widest smile as she came towards the desk.

  ‘Hi, I am Darshana Soni.’

  ‘Good morning, ma’am, welcome to Gulmohar Taj,’ the receptionist said. She tapped on the mouse again, her eyes scanning the monitor for more information. ‘The reservation is for five days. Is that correct?’

  ‘That’s correct,’ said Kanu. ‘We had asked them to book two separate rooms on the same floor.’

  ‘Yes, sir. It’s B-402 and B-406 on the fourth floor,’ the lady replied.

  ‘I believe we’ve made advance payments for this?’ Kanu asked.

  ‘Yes, sir,’ replied the lady as she extended a white-coloured plastic card with a black strip on it. ‘Here’s your key, sir,’ she added.

  Kanu nodded and collected the key. The room number printed on it read: B-402.

  The receptionist then looked at Darshu and extended another card with B-406 printed on it. ‘Ma’am, this would be for you,’ she said.

  ‘So kind of you,’ said Darshu. ‘My other luggage is in the vehicle. Can you get someone to deliver it to my room? I’ve got to prepare a presentation for an event. It’s going to be a long day,’ she said sheepishly.

  ‘Sure, ma’am,’ smiled the receptionist.

  ‘Great, see you around,’ Darshu said as she strode towards the elevator, Kanu following closely behind.

  An hour later, Darshu and Kanu were at the Holiday Villa Hotel, about fifteen kilometres away from Gulmohar Taj, on the outskirts of Pune. It seemed as if every media person in the vicinity was passing through the hotel lobby on that day just to make sure they were invited to the wedding reception of an influential couple from the film industry.

  Kanu stood in line to check in, his ID and address proof in his hand, while Darshu pulled her luggage along behind.

  ‘Sir, can I have your ID proof?’ the receptionist asked when Kanu’s turn arrived.

  ‘Yeah, sure! One ID proof is enough for both of us?’ Kanu said pointing to Darshu, now seated in the lounge area. ‘We’re together.’

  ‘No, sir,’ the receptionist replied. ‘We would require a separate photo-ID proof.’

  ‘Not a problem,’ Kanu smiled. ‘I’ve got IDs for both of us.’

  It took less than a minute to finish the check-in procedure. Kanu grabbed the luggage Darshu was carrying and headed straight to his room. When he returned to the lobby five minutes later, he had a laptop bag with the familiar Norman Cyber Security logo printed on it. His suit jacket and tie were gone and he had rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt.

  Darshu was already waiting for him when he reached the hotel exit.

  ‘I did some research about our work. Guess what? They will charge me for being an accessory to your crime,’ Darshu said in a low, disgruntled voice.

  ‘Really?’ Kanu smiled.

  ‘You really think I’m that dumb?’

  ‘You really think I’m a criminal?’

  Kanu and Darshu were whispering together as they walked through a sliding door into the hotel that was about to host the NASSO IT conference. Life-size banners announced the keynote address by Rana. It was obvious that the luxurious hotel, Western Koregaon Park, had ensured the best of security arrangements to welcome its delegates.

  ‘Okay, is this security for you? Or am I being too imaginative?’ she asked.

  ‘Hmm, that’s a good question. We are three days too early. So, to be honest, they aren’t expecting me yet. Besides, there are so many other things the organizers must take care of. Don’t worry, these guys have a lot on their plate,’ he said. He then motioned for her to secure an empty seat in the lobby towards the back of the room.

  It was not unusual for Kanu to frequent luxurious hotels without any reason or appointment or to take part in a business meeting uninvited. This time, though, he wasn’t alone.

  ‘You might be thinking this is not what you expected. Don’t worry, we are here just to monitor the activities. As I told you before, our Norman Security team will be arriving shortly. Then they will take over. I don’t want them to be left grappling the situation alone,’ he said uncertainly.

  When the clocks struck 3.30 p.m., two men in matching blue T-shirts, with NASSO IT conference and Norman Cyber Security logos printed on them, entered through the sliding door. They went straight to the front desk, where they presented their documents. But instead of getting a go-ahead, they were soon surrounded by several hotel staff.

  From a distance Kanu could see the problem faced by his Norman Cyber Security representatives. He took a deep breath, picked up his laptop bag and stood up.

  Darshu looked at him, alarmed.

  ‘Should I come?’ she asked.

  ‘No, it’s okay. These guys may have forgotten to bring their papers. I think there’s some confusion. I’ll come back in a minute,’ Kanu said.

  Darshu held her breath and looked straight at the hotel entrance
, as if searching for an exit. She saw a man with curly hair, wearing worn-out jeans and an old sweater, coming in through the sliding door. He held a large, yellow envelope in his hand and walked quickly. Soon, he reached the front desk, not far away from the counter where Kanu stood pretending to write something.

  ‘Hi,’ the man with curly hair started in a low voice. ‘I’m here to meet Mr Samba Rajput. I believe he has checked in this morning.’

  ‘Sorry sir, we’ve received very clear instructions not to entertain any request for Mr Samba,’ the lady at reception replied.

  But the man with curly hair was not convinced. ‘Not to entertain? What rubbish? I’m Ranjit Bhardwaj of Nav Hindustan Group,’ he barked. ‘You think I’m here trying to invade the privacy of your client? Listen madam, your client is my business partner. Look here, this is the proposal for the Hyderabad Now Metro project.’ Ranjit pointed to the yellow envelope in his hand. ‘I want to know who your manager is this very instant!’

  ‘Please sir, try to understand. We are only obeying orders. If you want the manager’s number, I can provide you that. In fact, I’ll call him right now,’ the lady said nervously. ‘But please understand, we have clear instructions about our VIP guests.’

  Ranjit was now shifting his weight from one leg to the other in a menacing way. ‘Okay, can you get me his secretary, Sheena? She must be on your guest list for sure.’

  The receptionist clicked on the mouse below to check computer entries.

  ‘Would you like to talk to her?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Ranjit replied.

  The lady connected the call and passed on the receiver to Ranjit. ‘Sir, Ms Sheena is on the line,’ the receptionist said.

  ‘Sheena, this is Ranjit Bhardwaj of Nav Hindustan Group. I’m in the lobby. I thought I’d meet Samba at the hotel itself and discuss our VEMAYHTAS proposal for the Hyderabad Now Metro project. You know how it is with telephone lines. You never know who else is listening. And we can’t send e-mails as well. Can you check with Samba if he can meet me now?’

  Ranjit handed back the receiver to the receptionist without a word. Kanu glanced up while pretending to read a brochure, as Ranjit walked away in silence. Less than three metres away, Kanu could overhear the conversation between the representatives of Norman Cyber Security and the hotel staff.

  One of the men clad in a blue Norman T-shirt was persistent in his pitch. ‘Sir, when you shift your infrastructure, the servers are open for hackers to exploit the vulnerabilities. The entire hotel infrastructure becomes less secure,’ he said. ‘We have seen computers being targeted in a run-up to the annual summit of the Pharmacy Conclave in Mumbai. The hotel management did not reveal which companies were targeted but if you Google it, you will find many trade secrets were stolen during the conference. It was widely reported in the newspapers.’

  ‘Okay, we’ll check with our management about installing your software,’ the hotel staff said doubtfully.

  As the incident played out, Kanu decided not to get involved. Instead, he walked back to Darshu, pulled out his laptop and searched for information on Nav Hindustan Group, VEMAYHTAS and Hyderabad Now Metro.

  The search results confirmed his doubts.

  VEMAYHTAS had been listed as one of the consortium partners under Nav Hindustan Group that had bid for Hyderabad Now Metro. Why would Ranjit be so worried about his phone being tapped? Maybe Rana was using him as a proxy to accomplish his goals.

  He thought back to the day he met his brother, Bala.

  What was Bala trying to say? Only Sathyamev can kill Sathyamev. Did he mean that VEMAYHTAS could kill Sathyamev?

  Kanu could feel it happening, a sudden euphoria taking over. He had pieced together the answer that had eluded him all these years. Yes, that’s it! VEMAYHTAS can cancel SATHYAMEV out!

  Convinced of the mightiest weapon in his hands, he signalled Darshu with a thumbs-up sign. ‘We’re done for the day,’ he said. ‘Come, let’s go back to our hotel.’

  EIGHTEEN

  5 January–12 July 2008

  A

  special contingent of armed men in camouflage uniforms, bulletproof vests and helmets knocked violently on the door of B-402 at Gulmohar Taj. It was a clandestine operation commissioned by the Hyderabad CID unit. Their target was Kanu Vasukumar, the illegal computer network leader, wanted for manipulating the stock markets through unlawful insider trading.

  ‘Open the door,’ screamed the group commander. ‘This is a CID raid.’

  There was no response.

  The commander repeated himself. ‘Open the door, this is a CID raid. If you don’t open it now, we will have to break it open.’

  Silence.

  Looking at the hotel attendant, who was ducking behind the other men in uniform, the commander asked in a low voice, ‘Are you sure they are still inside?’

  ‘Yes, they haven’t moved out,’ replied the attendant.

  ‘Okay then, listen, very silently open the door with your master key and move out immediately.’

  The attendant did exactly as instructed.

  Within seconds, the commander and the other uniformed men stormed the room.

  ‘They are not inside,’ yelled a man from inside the washroom.

  By this time, another man had thrown open a window only to see more men in camouflage uniforms outside.

  ‘They must have escaped through this window. Keep an eye on the vehicles outside,’ said the man.

  ‘Search inside the cabinets. They may have left something,’ said the commander.

  ‘There’s a CD in the cupboard. It says: For Rana,’ came a voice from behind.

  ‘Get it. Let’s check the other rooms.’

  ‘What? He escaped again?’ Rana screamed. ‘Do you know how irresponsible that sounds?’ He paced the length of the hotel. ‘We cannot let him remain in the open. You understand?’

  ‘We were this close to nabbing him.’ Samba shook his head. ‘Don’t know if we should have hired our own men instead of relying on the state machinery.’

  Rana’s anger was not reflected in his voice when he spoke again.

  ‘Do we have any idea where he could be right now?’

  ‘I checked. He has not left Pune yet,’ Samba said in a low voice. ‘But he did leave something behind for you – a CD.’ Samba flashed the disc. ‘They found it in Kanu’s room during the raid.’

  ‘Did you check it?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Fine, play it.’

  Samba’s hand trembled as he inserted the disc into the laptop. Kanu’s face appeared on the screen: I always wanted to hear that voice of yours, Uncle. Unfortunately, you keep changing your numbers. Here is mine: 8102777201.

  Suddenly, the screen turned black. It seemed Kanu had shot the video himself and had kept the message short.

  ‘This is it? This is what he wanted to say?’ said Rana, looking agitated. ‘And now he wants me to call him. He doesn’t know who I am yet.’

  ‘I think we should call him. This could be a good opportunity to trace his location. We’ll get to know exactly where he is right now. This time he won’t escape.’

  ‘Fine, get our men to finish off this task,’ Rana said.

  That evening, Kanu was driving through a deserted valley towards Lonavala, past the scenic forest of Khandala, when his cell phone buzzed. The number on display seemed unusual. It had the prefix showing +001 instead of the usual +91. Kanu wasn’t sure who was on the other end of the call, but he could guess: Rana.

  He felt a familiar aversion rise within him.

  ‘Darshu, could you please answer the call?’ Kanu said.

  ‘Whose call is it?’ she asked.

  ‘Rana’s.’

  ‘Rana?’ gasped Darshu, looking at the flashing device.

  ‘Yeah, all you have to do is say hello, and turn it over to me. I will pull over in a minute,’ said Kanu, looking in the rear-view mirror.

  Darshu nodded and clicked the green button. Her prompt response to the voice at the other e
nd was simple. ‘Could you please hold the line while I hand over the phone to Kanu?’ she said.

  Then she looked at Kanu and pointed to the phone.

  ‘He sounds angry,’ she mouthed.

  Kanu smiled wryly. He had known all along that a conversation with his uncle was inevitable. And that it wasn’t going to be a pleasant one whenever it happened.

  ‘Sorry, that was my girlfriend,’ he started without listening to the voice. ‘She was playing with my cell when your call came. Who am I talking to?’

  ‘Your days are numbered, Kanu. How long do you think you can keep hiding like a rat?’ Rana’s voice thundered. ‘You were lucky to escape from the CID. Had they caught you for tripping the stock market, you could have gotten away with a jail term or even less. The penalty you will now pay for disrupting my business is –’

  ‘Your business? Who says it’s your business?’ Kanu cut him short. ‘I know you’re hurting, uncle. But that’s not your fault. I’m surprised how you do business without having any knowledge of it. Do you always bribe people into doing things your way?’

  ‘You think I bribe people? I buy them. I rule the business.’

  ‘You think you’ll buy the Hyderabad Now Metro project as well? No. I’ll never let that happen. This time you lose.’ Kanu smiled again. ‘I’ll make sure that the Navarjuna Group makes it to the winners list. Good luck.’

  Back in the hotel room, Rana had one final bit of advice – warning, really – for Kanu, but he was left holding a dead line. ‘Listen – hello – hello –’ Rana screamed into the headset. The emptiness of the disconnected line rattled in his ears. For several seconds he stood in stunned silence.

  Rana then picked up the CD with For Rana written on it and walked to the other end of hotel room where a few technicians, under the guidance of Samba, were working on their computers.

  ‘Samba, did you get his location?’ Rana said.

  ‘Yes, he’s somewhere on the Pune–Mumbai highway – the old route. I’ve sent all our men to get him,’ Samba said.