by Rafael
No one responded. She twisted around to face the team. Jaws set, white-knuckle rope grips accompanied five grim expressions. Her smile reflected the bright sunshine. “Relax guys. I can do this.”
She plunged in with a shallow dive. Short, efficient strokes took her into the current where she paused to gauge. She stretched out with long, powerful strokes even as the river carried her downstream. Midway she floated to recoup then kicked out for the final push. With ten feet to spare Miranda stood and climbed the bank having made it look easy. The team clapped and whooped. She gave them an exaggerated curtsy before making her way back upstream.
Once opposite the group she slipped out her harness, hooked it to the tether’s mid-knot, watched the team pull it over then tied her end to a tree. One by one, using the tether as a lifeline, everyone crossed without incident. The winch cable and hook along with two additional ropes Narsimha had already fastened to the ATV followed. With everything anchored to sturdy tree trunks, Miranda signaled Gary to throw the switch. The winch whined to life and the ATV pulled itself into the water. Five feet in, the current grabbed it.
The ropes snapped taut and groaned. The thin winch cable dug into the tree’s bark. Satisfied his rope knots would hold, Narsimha turned and grabbed a line. “Pull everybody, pull hard. The batteries may not be enough.” Pull they did. Five scientists accustomed to battling nature in the laboratory now confronted it with muscle. The river tested their mettle. Slowly, reluctantly, it relinquished their truck. When it broke the surface the winch surged forward. The slackened ropes dropped everyone to the ground where laughter eased their strained muscles. With the ATV’s winch added to their pulling strength the lowering sun found everyone across. No one argued with Miranda’s suggestion they camp by the river for the evening and head inland at sunrise.
Nightfall’s temperature drop found the jacketed group seated around a fire having enjoyed a tasteless but filling dinner. With a long twig the Argentinean poked embers. “I accept an alien is on Earth determined to destroy a technological innovation but I continue to wonder why? I think there’s something important to learn here. Clearly they use technology. Why deny us?”
“They haven’t.” the Israeli replied. “At least not until now.” He turned toward Miranda. “What did she call that sphere, a Seer? And didn’t she say it contained all of Earth’s knowledge?” Miranda nodded. “Although I can imagine how it’s possible, the gap between their technology and ours is mind-boggling. Our own history fills volumes of what happens when two cultures meet and one has superior technology.”
“It doesn’t even have to be superior.” Gary interrupted. “Across every continent cultures have reveled in making others extinct. In the Bible’s very beginning, the human race barely one generation old didn’t wait for technology to begin the slaughter.”
“True enough.” the Israeli agreed. “Still, I imagine they never considered us a threat. But with this wormhole device, I think we crossed a line. It can place us at their very doorstep. Given our history, it might have alarmed them.” The Argentinean shook her head.
“But they have the superior technology. What do they have to fear?”
“When Europeans first arrived on the North American continent”, the Russian interjected, “sociologists estimate the native Indian population at 20 million. It took two hundred years, by 1890, to reduce their numbers to fewer than 650,000. Fifty years later, the Nazi invasion of Russia resulted in 20 million dead in three years. If they’ve been watching us, the wormhole device must have indeed alarmed them.”
“You observed it, Miranda.” Gary prodded. “What do you think?” For some moments she stared at the fire, unresponsive.
“For most humans it is exceedingly difficult to kill another human with their bare hands. If the other person defends himself, neither can inflict sufficient damage to kill the other. Almost as if the price for sentience, for intelligence, is the loss of our animal strength. Chimpanzees, our closest living relatives, can kill us within seconds and with minimal effort. Gorillas can snap us in two. Though it has a brain the size of a walnut, our higher-order intelligence is a laughable defense when confronting a shark in open water.
I watched this being. It has a duality of presence that is at once fascinating and terrifying. There can be no question it is a sentient, self-aware life form. But it also left no doubt it was an animal. It does not eat, it feeds. Its lair contained the skeletal remains of a female it had consumed. It did not stop to think or reflect if she had loved ones, dreams, ambitions. It ate her because it was hungry. Without regret, without remorse, without concern. It has the capacity to view another sentient being as food. And any time it wanted to, it could have killed me. Effortlessly. Our conjectures should take great care. It is nothing like us. It is an alien. An animal alien.”
No one spoke. Miranda’s words and insights filled thoughts they carried into sleep. The men took one ATV, the women the other. Above them the transparent roofs framed the stars that now twinkled with danger, threat—malevolence.
In the distance, a tiger bellowed.
CHAPTER 40 Curiosity’s Cat
Miranda rose from the passenger seat to stand through the roof top. Behind her the Argentinean followed suit as Narsimha rolled to a stop in the small clearing. To the right a small herd of Sambar deer stood motionless. Ears pricked forward, they watched for any sign of danger, poised to fly if they detected it. A solitary buffalo resumed grazing the knee-high grass content nothing big enough to harm it had emerged. Thirty yards to their left the other ATV sprang from the dense woods. The deer ambled away. Now that two nothings had arrived, so did the buffalo.
Blended into the primal surroundings, five peasant huts with roofs of woven reed and bamboo-strengthened walls of plastered mud occupied the clearing’s center. In stark contrast to the pristine isolation, five wooden crates still in their transport netting sat nearby. “Shall we make ourselves at home?” Miranda cried. Relieved, enthusiastic smiles answered.
Before allowing anyone access to the interiors, she inspected each one for anything dangerous, especially snakes. With a long stick she poked into corners, crevices, and cabinets. Each one bulged with dried wheat, barley, beans, rice and all manner of well-thought out canned goods—the last act of a selfless Ekani. Unbidden, unwanted, his dying smile rose before her. “When you see my brother, tell him I am grateful for the time he gave me.” Blurred vision stopped her. She wanted to believe she’d have the chance. A gentle push closed the cupboard. She lowered her head. “Thank you, Ekani.”
With access cleared, Carla and Gary assisted by Narsimha began preparing lunch and planning dinner. The two physicists had already removed the netting and begun pulling the crates apart. Miranda busied herself moving personal gear and bedding to huts she assigned. Duncan and Ronan did what they could by sniffing everything she touched. Her heart leaped every time they stopped to stare into the woods, imagining Janesh might be near, but growls soon after always sank her hopes.
Vehicles emptied, she switched to winch operator helping the physicists wrestle the solar generator in place then unwrap the wormhole device from its padding. They paused only for an al fresco lunch of simple vegetable patties passed out by Carla and Gary. When the sun sank below the trees two announcements convinced them nothing remained that could not wait for its reappearance. Narsimha had succeeded in shunting a power line from the solar generator to the hot water heater making showers possible and Carla declaring she would serve dinner when they did.
They would have made any submariner proud when with quick succession the six washed, lathered, and rinsed without emptying the hot water tank. Damp hair tied back, Clara turned off propane burners and filled serving bowls while five freshly laundered scientists set up tables and stools for another al fresco treat. Mindful of Indian custom she served everything at once to her wide-eyed compatriots.
“This is Sambar, a spicy lentil soup and I highly recommend the Panipuri, stuffed puff bread, as a dip. Here we have Baigan Bhur
ta, Indian eggplant and tomatoes which should be had with the black bean sauce and spicy spinach over rice. Unfortunately, we won’t have fresh salad but it’s the best I could do with the canned food stores.” She reddened and beamed when they stood to applaud.
An arduous trek, long day, and the onrushing, cool evening air limited conversation to smiles and nods. Famished stomachs needed only thirty minutes to insure no leftovers remained. Contented looks and gentle exhales told Clara all she needed to know. Led by Narsimha, and with some difficulty rising, the men set about clearing the aftermath. Once she heard the faucet gurgling Miranda leaned toward the Argentinean, “Where did you learn to cook Indian?” Clara giggled.
“Inside. Someone left a recipe book.”
Nightfall found the group seated around a campfire, their hands warmed by cups of hot ginger tea. “Any idea how long before you test the device?” Miranda asked.
“Probably tomorrow.” the Russian replied. “But we have a huge problem.” He glanced at the Israeli.
“If we manage to open a wormhole, the question becomes where does it lead? Professor Ang has a coordinate table that is password protected. Without it, anyone entering might exit at the bottom of the ocean, or a mile in the atmosphere, or in the Earth’s core, or halfway across the galaxy on a planet with toxic gases. It’s nine characters but so far I haven’t been able to crack it. I’m sure it’s something obvious. People don’t create elaborate passwords they might forget. Try as I might though I just can’t figure it out. From his dossier I’ve tried birthdays, social security variations, addresses, nothing works.”
“How do you know it has nine characters?” Miranda pressed.
“The last time the machine was on it did not undergo a normal shutdown. Someone probably just disconnected the power source. That left a memory image on disk to restore itself when it powered up again. I took out the hard drive just to make a copy of it before we rebooted the device. When I decompiled the memory image only one field was encrypted. It had nine characters.”
The group gave suggestions the Israeli had already tried. He shook his head at every one. Narsimha looked up from deep thought. “Nine characters for a familiar password. Down or across?” The Israeli smiled.
“Across.”
“Did you try Joshua Ang? It has nine characters.”
“Tried it first. Lower and uppercase and every permutation.”
“What about Ang Joshua?” The Israeli stared at him then sprang up.
“I’ll be right back.” Past the campfire’s glow he disappeared into the dark. Miranda held little hope they could be so lucky.
“What if you can’t unlock it?” The Russian shrugged.
“We’ll have to tether someone and be ready to pull back hard. The question is who will enter?”
“That is an interesting problem.” Gary mused. “When one opens a wormhole how can you know where it terminates? I mean, is it like a cab? Airport, please.” Twenty yards away panel lights powered up providing a disembodied glow.”
“If you do get it to work have you given any thought to what then?” Clara asked.
“We’ve discussed it.” Gary answered. “The one thing I fear most is any one government gaining control of it. Even ours. There’s no sense in re-learning once again how incompetent politicians and bureaucrats are.” Clara frowned.
“So corporations, industrialists, and moguls should own it?”
“I think we should simultaneously release the diagrams to every scientific institution and journal across the world as well as a million copies out into cyberspace. If everyone controls it, no one controls it.” Clara shook her head.
“I just can’t help feeling this technology is not only beyond us but far ahead of its time. It hasn’t done anything yet and already a murderous alien has arrived on our planet. What else might be on the way?” Miranda nodded.
“I wonder if we’re at the same crossroads the Neanderthals unknowingly found themselves at when the first Homo Sapiens arrived. At least we can forgive them for not seeing through the devious smiles and handshakes. You’re right. This one didn’t wait to go on a killing spree.”
“All the more reason for opening this wormhole.” the Russian countered. “They need to know we can just as easily go there as they can come here.”
“See what I mean.” Clara declared. “What is it about us? Just having that technology makes us talk about spreading war to other planets.” Miranda looked at her.
“Clara, they brought it to us.”
“Maybe because they know what we’re capable of.”
Gleeful whoops burst across the clearing. “We’re in, we’re in.”
Everyone rushed to see. Clara stared into the dark. Five hundred years after wooden ships first sailed the oceans, passenger jets crossed them. One hundred years later, aerospace liners rocketed over the globe. Thirty years on and humanity had reduced the universe to nothing. Where did it lead? What did it mean?
In the distance, a tiger bellowed.
CHAPTER 41 Connecting Dots
“I’ll get it.” Narsimha’s mother called out. She reached the door before it rang again. A regal, statuesque beauty smiled.
“Shrimathi Parekh?”
“Yes.”
“You are Narsimha’s mother?” Brow furrows deepened.
“Yes.”
“How very nice to meet you. My name is Lata Mansukhani.” Nisha Saha extended a hand then a card. “I am an Executive Recruiter from Mumbai. May I come in please?”
“Where are my manners? Yes, yes of course. Come in, please.”She led Nisha into the parlor and bade her sit. “May I offer you some refreshment?”
“Why thank you. A glass of water will be fine.”
Nisha looked about the simple yet cool, comfortable room. From the kitchen a refrigerator opened then closed. The mother returned accompanied by the male voice she had heard. He held her card in one hand and extended the other.
“Good afternoon. I am Narsimha’s father.”
“How very nice to meet you, Sri Parekh. I am glad you could join us.” The parents sat stiff, awkward, proud such an urbane, Mumbai sophisticate had come inquiring after their son. Nisha looked calm, composed, competent.
“Is there anything wrong, Kumārī Mansukhani?”
“Not at all. I have been at the University trying to find your son. No one seems to know where he is. I represent an important client wishing to open a satellite office here in Chandrapur for his engineering firm. Your son’s academic record and achievements are impressive to say the least. On behalf of our client, my firm is very much interested in offering him a staff position after he graduates which will have high visibility with the main office. May I speak with him? ”
“My son has developed a lucrative business providing transportation services to tourists and visiting business people in Chandrapur. To my dismay it often hinders good attendance.”
“But he’s a very diligent young man.” the mother quickly added. “It has never interfered with his studies and I am confident it will not prevent his graduation.” The father nodded.
“And it pays for his tuition and expenses.”
“It makes his academic record all the more impressive.” Nisha soothed. “May I arrange to speak with him and accompany him to visit us in Mumbai?”
The nonplussed parents looked at one another and shrugged. “We’re not sure how to contact him. He’s in the Tadoba Tiger Reserve which has limited communication. He indicated a very important scientific group had chartered him and he thought it an excellent career opportunity.”
Nisha’s expression remained impassive. The well-meaning parents had provided more than enough information for her to track Narsimha down. The scientific group had to be the ones Nicholas Koh searched for. If so, Miranda Logan had to be among them. Find her and she would find Janesh McKenzie.
“Well, we are a patient company. When next you speak with your son would you inform him of my visit and urge him to call me at his earliest convenience
?” Their enthusiastic nods indicated they would drag him to Mumbai themselves if necessary. “I have imposed on your good graces long enough. Thank you so much for seeing me.” She turned, smiled, and waved to them once more before entering the car Josh Timson drove.
* * *
When the elevator doors opened, Daaruk’s appearance shocked Chatur. Besides the bandaged head, he appeared wan, weak. Hesitant steps needed a cane. The hand he extended in greeting had no strength. “My friend. My heart soars you are out and about but should you be? Have the doctors released you?”
“Ah, what do the doctors know? They know of medicine but nothing about life. I cannot heal while my partner lies un-avenged. We must stop this woman, Chatur. If I am not mistaken, she hunts Janesh.” The two entered the unopened restaurant and continued to the interior office. Kitchen sounds marked a busy staff preparing for the day’s clientele. Chatur helped ease Daaruk into a comfortable chair then placed extra cushions to lean against. “Tell me from start to finish your conversation with the woman.” Chatur handed him a cup of tea before taking an opposite chair and relating their exchange as best he remembered.
Daaruk sipped his tea, digested the facts. “My department has developed information from the access logs the factory you rented maintained. One person in particular constantly came and went. Who is Narsimha Parekh?”
“He is an engineering student we came to know through Miranda Logan. I believe her sponsors, the CIA, arranged for him to provide her general transportation when she first arrived in Chandrapur. He is a brilliant, wonderful young man but not a CIA operative.”
“Where is he now?”
“He accompanied the scientists into the Tadoba Tiger Reserve.” Chatur hesitated being more specific. He trusted Daaruk but Daaruk worked within a bureaucracy that had ears on every wall. “With Ekani’s death I thought him the most logical replacement. They headed for something called Camp G. I have no idea where exactly that may be. Janesh thought secure isolation would hasten the scientists’ ability to reassemble the device.”