Turbulence

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Turbulence Page 17

by Samit Basu


  Then Jai and his crack team will walk into the country’s central government headquarters and take charge.

  When Aman turns the lights back on, the nation’s leader — Vivek in a completely convincing performance — will inform his or her beloved subjects that the nation has collapsed. It is unlikely that this information will cause anyone any surprise at this point, but no one will be bored, because Vivek will then announce that control over the nation has been handed to its new superpowered saviour and god-king — Jai — and their country is now a part of Jai’s empire. And that this is a good thing. Ceremonial handshakes and wild celebrations will ensue.

  The national flag will replaced by Jai’s emblem, a saffron sun on black. A new national anthem, currently a work in progress, will be played non-stop on all TV and radio stations until everyone has managed to learn it.

  Control of the administration will be handed to the military, headed by a suitable candidate — essentially the most senior officer willing to swear loyalty to Jai. Stubborn superior officers, if there are any, will be squashed. If the nation’s former commander was military anyway, the transition will be smooth. If not, the nation’s former head will be persuaded by such notables as Sher, Mukesh and Anima that resistance would be futile, and then restored to his or her former station with considerably reduced powers.

  The nation’s funds will be handed over to the army, which will be given the task of re-establishing order, while Jai and his friends move on to a new destination — whichever country is next in the International Monetary Fund’s per capita Wealth List — though Jai plans to skip the top five, especially Luxembourg since he’s not sure where it is, and start with the United States. India is 129th on this list, which will give Jai time to decide what to do with it.

  Countries without significant armies will not have to suffer: they will merely be informed as to their changed status and given a deadline by which to alter their flags. Pakistan will be left untouched so that it might continue to entertain Jai. China will be left in the dark until its people rise up and swallow the government, and will then be invaded. The Dalai Lama will be forced to govern it.

  Jai hopes there will be plenty of resistance to this plan; that nations will unite in revolt, giving him a chance to plunge them into darkness again. He will actively encourage rebels and terrorists — they will give his vast armies something to do. If entire nations’ armies behave badly, their countries will simply be left switched off until they learn to behave better, and all their money will be taken away.

  At the same time, several of Jai’s super-soldiers will run superhero scams around the world, promising freedom from Jai’s evil empire, while delivering key leaders of the human resistance into Jai’s hands. Public resistance to superheroes will be reduced over time by staged events where superheroes save cities from external threats such as space monsters from other galaxies and dimensions. These events will be choreographed on the fly, but several will involve one of Jai’s most eager followers, a failed stage magician and illusionist from Chennai, who will be happy to conjure up illusions of giant beasts and alien invasion fleets for superheroic saviours to pretend to destroy — after the rewards in each case are agreed upon.

  After the initial period of anarchy, Jai has told Aman, the world will be much better off under his rule. And not just because the nation-state is a failed concept based on artificial barriers and all will be as one under Jai, but because millions of people, mostly the poorest and weakest and hence the greatest burdens on society, will be dead.

  Jai has no interest in administration; once the world is conquered, Aman may run it as he sees fit. Jai had been planning to hand the keys of the world over to Indian politicians, but has realised this could only lead to the collapse of his empire. His chief regret is that he cannot conquer the world in India’s name, that the world will never quake in fear of the Indian Air Force. As a student of Indian history, Jai is deeply chagrined by the fact that India has proved to be a warm, welcoming and exotic destination of choice for every possible invading party. He had always dreamt of the boot being on the other foot, but the Indian armed forces had never even been allowed to invade neighbouring countries while actively at war with them, and continued to remain spineless even with Jai’s supreme might at their command.

  On the other hand, this private invasion has its advantages: conquering the world without the Indian armed forces’ help would mean that the rest of the world could not gain anything by attacking India while Jai invaded country after country. If anything, they would turn their weapons on the Americans after he had taken over the White House. After all, every military commander in the world has been secretly or publicly itching to do that for a while.

  When Aman brought up, somewhat nervously, the fact that millions of deaths all over the world might make it a little difficult for people to love their god-king, and perhaps Jai could use his abilities to serve humanity instead of conquering it, Jai did not, as expected, punch a hole in his head. Instead, Jai told Aman this was true, and he had considered it for a while before realising that it would be wrong to pretend that the world had not changed, that humans and their opinions were still relevant. He told Aman that it would take a while for people to understand that their new rulers could not be held accountable to human values or human laws. Did one put a tiger in prison for killing a deer? Did one fine a god, if gods exist, for earthquakes and tsunamis? Did one vote their powers away by Facebook poll?

  Jai is completely in favour of a new set of laws, a code for superheroes — his military mind cannot allow the thought of a ruling class without its own rules — but this is something that can be established once their empire-building has finished. And he will abide by this code as long as it does not involve pre-superhuman failed concepts like communism or democracy.

  The second night, after Aman had shown Jai the full extent of North Korea’s military capability and Jai had laughed until he cried, Aman asked Jai when he intended to carry out this great plan. Jai replied it would start as soon as the last real obstacle, the unknown mob manipulator, had been found and either subverted or eliminated. This unknown villain represents everything Jai hates most — chaos, irrational rage, cowardice. Jai does not want to have to slaughter masses of enraged civilians, or fight soldiers whose minds are not their own — he wants to be a general, not a butcher. Had Aman not joined his army, he would have conquered the world anyway, but it would have taken much more time, and he would have had no real way of maintaining order and preventing uprisings. But he would have been content, travelling the world in an endless loop, making war. A fierce and savage god, but a god nevertheless. With Aman by his side, says Jai, he can actually help the world while ruling it. He will make the world a better place whether its denizens want it or not. They will love him for it if they are smart.

  The scariest realisation for Aman, as he sits hunched over a keyboard pretending to shut down Pakistani spy networks, is that he and Jai have a lot in common. He finds several of Jai’s plans both exciting and tempting. He has often had to stop himself from suggesting improvements, and wishes he knew whether this is because he still has a conscience or because he is not yet able to deal with the idea of being able to decide the fate of Earth. He had been annoyed with Uzma initially for not wanting to be a superhero, for not embracing the facts and finding out the true extent of her power. Was he not guilty of the same blind, unreasoning reluctance to be all he could be? He knew the world needed transformation, and a lot of Jai’s plans, however insane, would give him the opportunity to make things better — and it was not as if he could stop Jai in any case. Why, then, was he holding back?

  He does not, fortunately, have time to ponder this any further as Sher enters the room.

  “She’s up. Come and see her,” he growls.

  Aman waits for Sher to blindfold him as he has the last few days, but the tiger-man simply walks off. Aman practically flies behind him through a maze of gaudy booby-trapped corridors until they reach Uzma’
s room.

  Uzma is sitting up in bed, gulping water from a glass, wincing as she swallows. Aman just stands at the door, his world-changing worries forgotten as he beams goofily at her. She smiles at him, wincing a little, then her eyes widen in fear as Jai enters the room, brushing past Aman.

  “We’re all so glad you’re all right,” he says. “We were really worried.”

  Uzma stares at him in disbelief.

  “I haven’t forgotten why I’m here,” she says. “Or who put me here. What do you want from me?”

  “Aman will fill you in,” Jai says. “I know the last few days have been difficult, but just believe in me and everything will get better. You’ll see. We’re all a team now — all misunderstandings have been cleared up.”

  “Bob’s death? Was that a ‘misunderstanding’ too?” she asks. “Go to hell, Jai. Don’t talk to me.”

  A muscle in Jai’s neck twitches, but he smiles.

  “All right, I’ll go. You must be feeling tired. We’ll speak again after you’ve rested for a while. Aman, talk to her. Make her see reason.” He puts a friendly hand on Aman’s shoulder, and Aman realises he has just been given an order.

  Jai strides out, leaving Sher with Aman and Uzma.

  “You want to die, girl?” Sher growls. “Don’t you know better by now? Don’t push him. He’ll kill you in a second — he came really close just now. Even this geek here knows better.”

  “Get out,” Uzma snaps.

  To Aman’s surprise, Sher does precisely that.

  Uzma stares at Aman.

  “What’s going on?” she asks, and coughs, spilling water on the bed.

  “Well, we’ve been left together to discuss our plans, and this room’s under surveillance,” Aman says. “How are you feeling?”

  “Where the hell are we?”

  “Goa.”

  “I’ve always wanted to visit Goa,” she says with a grin. “Are they going to kill us?”

  “No. Not you, at least. I think Jai wants to make you empress of the world.”

  “I could get used to that.”

  “Well, it’s probably better than anything I ever did for you.”

  “Come here.” She holds out her arms and Aman rushes to her, holds her while her body heaves with silent, dry sobs.

  “What do we do, Aman?” she asks. “What happens now?”

  “I’m working on it,” he says. “They have a plan. You get well, we’ll figure out what to do.”

  “I tried, you know,” she says. “I did what you wanted. Joined up to be a superhero like the rest of you. And look how that turned out.”

  “If we survive this, I’ll finance all the movies you want to make. If that even begins to make up for dragging you into this.”

  “Ah, forget it,” she says. “They’d have got me anyway.”

  “You are kind of hard to miss,” he agrees.

  Mukesh swings the door open. His face is livid, scaling over, his fangs lengthening. Aman has nowhere to run as Mukesh stalks towards him.

  “You little bastard,” he snarls, “you knew about this, didn’t you?” He catches Aman by the throat. “In fact, I think you’re behind it,” he says. “I should have snapped your little neck a long time ago.”

  Aman struggles wildly but in vain. Ignoring Uzma’s shrieks, Mukesh squeezes until Aman’s eyes glaze over, and then tosses him against a wall. Aman slides to the ground, his head throbbing.

  “I told Jai you’d be of no use,” Mukesh hisses. “This was a huge mistake, you hear me? A very huge mistake. If it was you, we’ll find out. A lot of people are going to die, and it’s your fault.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Aman says as calmly as he can manage, rubbing the back of his head. “You were with me all day. You saw everything I did. Every screen I opened.”

  “Well, you opened the wrong screens. You didn’t look at the bloody news. It’s all over the bloody internet. What use is your power if you don’t know?”

  Sher appears at the door.

  “Jai needs us, Mukesh,” he says.

  “What about these two?” Mukesh asks.

  “Later. Come.”

  Mukesh kicks Aman half-heartedly and they stride out, locking the door behind them.

  “Well, this is nice,” Uzma says. “What the hell was that?”

  “Like I keep saying, I don’t know,” Aman replies. “I think I’m going to take a little nap.”

  Uzma raises an eyebrow as he clambers on to the bed and lies down next to her, eyes closed.

  “Lie very still and don’t talk,” Aman murmurs. “It disturbs me.”

  She looks at him, genuinely puzzled, and then says suddenly, “If you’re that shape-changer pretending to be Aman I’ll kill you.”

  He puts a finger to his lips, frowning, and shakes his head. Mystified, she is about to speak again when he gets up and says, “Done. Sorry, was just putting the recorders on a loop. Didn’t want them to see me going online.”

  He paces around the room with his eyes shut for a few seconds, occasionally bumping into things. He then utters the all-explaining words, “Oh, crap.”

  “What?”

  “British TV channels at Jai’s parents’ house in London. Police everywhere. Lots of people with placards and stuff, mostly Asians. They’re saying Jai Mathur is an alleged terrorist, a disgraced Air Force officer being hunted by the police.”

  “Why? I mean, good, but what for?”

  “More than a hundred missing Brits, and what happened at Udhampur. His parents have locked themselves in their house and haven’t talked to anyone, but there’s a big crowd outside, and it’s getting bigger. They want Jai to turn himself in and clear his name.”

  “Oh, crap,” Uzma says.

  “Exactly.”

  “Namrata,” Uzma says suddenly. “Is Namrata there, doing a story?”

  “No,” Aman replies. “I, um, checked her email. She wrote to someone five days ago saying she was going on holiday in the hills. Mussoorie, Nainital. She’s probably just trying to lie low.”

  “You checked her email? That’s so wrong.”

  “I know. But do you remember how she was saying we should threaten Jai’s family? Someone clearly has, and I wanted to make sure she had nothing to do with it. But… maybe the mob guy got to her. Maybe he’s in London right now, hoping to get to Jai using his parents. Do you think he got the address from Namrata? Could they be working together?”

  “Doesn’t really matter, does it? She’s lying low in the hills, and the mob guy has Jai where he wants him.”

  Through the door, they hear a loud scream, which is then abruptly cut off. Aman turns off the loops on the surveillance equipment. They hear someone fumbling with the lock outside their door.

  “Jai’s probably not very pleased right now,” Uzma says.

  “No,” Aman says. “Probably not.”

  The lock is ripped off. The door tumbles inwards with a horrendous crash.

  Jai strides into the room.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “We have absolutely nothing to do with what is happening to your family,” Aman declares.

  Jai ignores him and walks up to Uzma.

  “Now that you’re awake, Miss Uzma, answer me this — what is your power, exactly?” He seems even edgier than usual; his brow is lined with sweat.

  “Nothing useful,” Uzma replies.

  He leans over her, staring into her eyes.

  “Your beauty is maddening, but not all-conquering. I desire you, but not to the point of surrendering myself. I could kill you now with one punch.”

  “Please don’t,” Uzma says.

  “We don’t know, Jai,” Aman says. “Powers grow with use, you know this. Hers will show soon.”

  Jai growls, shakes his head.

  “I need to be sure you aren’t behind this,” he says. “I need to know what you can do.”

  “I can’t do anything, Jai,” Uzma says.

  “Let’s find out,” Jai says.

>   He raises his arm, as if to strike, and Uzma cowers.

  Aman knows it will achieve nothing, but he throws himself at Jai, grabbing at his wrist, and is astonished when Jai, instead of knocking his head off, actually falls to the floor.

  “Enough,” says a voice from the doorway. They turn, and see Jai.

  “Aman — attacking me is getting to be a habit. Try not to do it again. Get up, Vivek. The simplest of tests, and you fail,” Jai says, walking in.

  Vivek shoves Aman off and stands, rubbing his head.

  “He keeps hitting me,” he grumbles.

  “Good. Now where do I begin with you? You can’t actually threaten to strike anyone while impersonating me — use their fear. And, more importantly, I do not talk like that. A little class, please.”

  “I’m trying, sir,” Vivek says. “I need more time to perfect a character — I’m impersonating you. I’m not immersed yet.”

  “That is obvious. Fix it.” Jai turns to Aman. “I know the London nonsense is not you,” he says. “It’s our friend, Mr Mob. I’m going to London to meet him. I’m going to fly as a civilian in disguise. Who will organise this trip?”

  “I will,” Aman says. “Vivek’s going to hold the fort while you’re gone?”

  “Yes. It’s inconvenient — I needed to be here, the day after next. My own mob is planning a visit.”

  “Your underworld friends?” Aman asks. “Do you trust them? Isn’t it dangerous bringing them here?”

  “It will be in my absence. They are no threat to me. I am invincible when alone; this base is not. A team as physically insignificant as yours was able to disrupt my plans. My underworld allies are infinitely more dangerous.”

  “Who are these friends of yours? They sound lovely,” Uzma says.

  “A crime family — not one of the established gangsters like Dawood or Rajan, but powerful, even before the flight. They travelled with us on that plane. Two brothers, one son each. The older brother is a politician; the rest of the family does not bother with words. Their names are —”

 

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