Earth To Centauri_Alien Hunt

by Kumar L

  Tej knew, of course, that this was not true. It was most likely that they were hiding, biding their time for whatever malevolent agenda they were contemplating. Her search was closer in form to a jungle ‘hunt' than the urban pursuits she was used to. There were no signals for her to intercept, no money trails to unravel, no vehicles to be intercepted and no safe-houses to be broken into.

  She'd not slept for more than a couple of hours in the last two days, and it was affecting her ability to think and plan. She looked through the glass at the control room through bleary eyes. Her team was beginning to show signs of fatigue too. Tea and coffee could only take a person so far. Investigators with hot leads would not get burned out so soon. It was the waiting that killed morale. But she couldn't relax her vigil even for a moment. She'd sent Abhiram off for a few hours while the station head stayed back with her. Between the three of them, at least one person needed to have a clear head at all times. Thankfully, she'd been informed earlier that the special forces were all in their pre-assigned positions. The commissioner of police had also been briefed on the evacuation plans. At least some parts were working out.

  Just one breakthrough is all I need to turn this around, she thought wearily. Where the hell are they hiding? Running through a mental checklist, she looked for anything she might have overlooked. She knew her action on Anara wasn’t based on instinct or real evidence but more on the need to show some progress. She may well end up paying for it with her career, but that was a bridge to be crossed when she came to it.

  For the moment, even the human intelligence and the informant network of the Mumbai Police had not managed to turn up anything. She'd been on a call with the Commissioner every two hours, till the irritated top cop had rudely told her to shove it. If the NIA was unable to turn up any fresh information, then there was only so much that feet on the street could achieve. His team was bracing for the oncoming cascade of the visarjan and the added complexity of a possible city-wide evacuation.

  The air force search teams had not managed to find any further trace of the alien ship. The area where the ship had landed was a complete mish-mash of old abandoned industrial complexes that were now mostly reclaimed by jungles. The environmentalists had finally managed to push the industries far enough that the air of Mumbai had cleaned up sufficiently, to allow for blue skies and clean water. The forest acted as a buffer zone between the twin cities. A protected forest filled with unknown dangers - not of the four-legged kind but abandoned chemical dumps, leaking radiation traps and all sorts of desolate mega structures. Even airborne drones and ships with sophisticated equipment, including magnetometers and ground scanning radars, had been rendered useless.

  There were several teams of forest wardens and local police combing the area on foot. But it would take several days, if not weeks, to cover the territory where the ship was most likely to be hiding.

  Her last conversation with the PM had been short and unpleasant. For the first time in her life, she was facing the prospect of a major failed mission. Her bravado, so strong just a day before, had not survived the PM’s onslaught. Her desperate explanations had fallen on deaf ears. The only silver lining had been her statement that she was close to uncovering the traitor in their midst. While he did not like the fact that Anara had been taken off the operations, he was savvy enough to understand that the political ramifications could always be sorted out later. This had finally gained her another day to show results.

  She walked listlessly back to her high-backed chair and sat back rubbing her tired eyes. Her determination had not waned, but her body was rebelling against the stress. She sighed and closed her eyes. Might as well get a bit of shut-eye, she thought to herself. If I have even one more cup of coffee, I'll be bouncing off the walls.

  ********

  Keith was very pleased with REs progress so far. He had volunteers coming over from all over India and other parts of the world. Their numbers had swelled, and more still were on their way. He needed at least a thousand people to make his stand. He'd not yet disclosed the news to the media outlets. The time for that would come soon, but right now he could not afford any leaks. The only complication he could foresee was the festival. It would make the movement of his people difficult, but then again, maybe it would help him instead. The place to hide people was in the middle of even more people. The crowds would be his camouflage.

  But his agenda was much bigger than a protest march. Something was going on at the hospital, and he intended to do something about it. Protecting Earth required stronger measures than most governments were willing to employ. Not him. Unencumbered by the need to appease voters and by the process of law, he could take much more drastic actions. His covert team was getting ready in another part of the city. It was a small group, not as well trained as he'd have liked but then the time had been too short. He had to make do with whatever he could lay his hands on. At least they were dedicated to him even if only for the money that he offered them.

  He believed that getting into the hospital would be relatively easy. He could also easily manage finding the ‘new humans’. Escaping with the woman and possibly her child would be trickier. He'd requisitioned the fastest civilian orbital plane available. It would be waiting on a ship just off India's maritime boundary, ready to fly in and pick him and his cargo up at a moment’s notice.

  The preparations were complete. He just hoped his nerves would hold out as he led his rabble to their triumph for all the world to see. He downed his bourbon in a quick gulp and poured another, adding some ice. As he looked across the window to the growing dusk outside, he raised his glass in a mock salute and then drained it again. Another twenty-four hours to glory.

  ********

  Nurse Aisha walked around setting things in place in the hospital room. The baby was due any moment, and the senior doctor had decided to go for a natural birth. The mother was in excellent physical condition, and the scans had revealed no concerns for the baby. The room was being set up for the delivery now, and a neonatal specialist had joined the team. All necessary types of equipment, including a baby incubator, were in place. The room was considerably more crowded than earlier and Lucy was confined to the bed. She looked bemused at the frenetic activity around the room while holding Joe's hand for comfort.

  Dr. Khan stood a little aside in one corner. This was out of his hands now. Battlefield trauma, space sickness, radiation poisoning - he could handle it all but somehow birthing babies was not his forte. He was happy to leave Lucy in the hands of the extremely competent staff of INHS Asvini. He was more worried that he'd been unable to get in touch with the captain ever since she'd left the hospital a few hours back. He'd repeatedly been trying to get her on the ComNet but without luck. The same was true of Rawat and Ryan. He expected them to be busy looking for the aliens, but he was sure the captain wouldn't want to miss this news. He'd left numerous texts for her and was hoping she would call him back. She could still make it back in time if she wanted to. He wondered if any of the others would know how to get in touch with her. Madhavan was also incommunicado. Maybe Manisha?

  His train of thoughts was interrupted by the attending surgeon. "We're ready. Let's get her in position." Dr. Khan sighed. Captain Anara would have to wait - this was the baby's moment right now. He said a silent prayer and focused on the scene in front of him.

  ********

  The truck was ready and so were all the other preparations. There was nothing more to be accomplished for the day, and he gratefully wrapped an old tarpaulin over the truck to hide it from pesky eyes. Then he handed over the keys to the owner/driver and wearily trudged back to the station. It'd been a very long day, and he was feeling proud of what he'd accomplished alone. He'd thoroughly earned the payment.

  Reaching the station, he climbed the steps up to the second floor and walked to the room. It was pitch dark inside when he opened the door. He could hear low snoring noises coming from the two occupants. It would be so easy to kill them and take what he wanted, he thought. B
ut this was not the time. His stakes were higher. He wondered why there was no one standing watch. Maybe they're just too tired. They'd also completely forgotten to get in touch with him at 5 p.m.

  He didn't know that both of the TrueKifs were suffering from physical degeneration caused by the multiple jumps on their journey to Earth. The effects had started manifesting themselves, starting with mild headaches and then developing into weakness and nausea.

  He entered the room and walked over to the corner where his gear was stored. He arranged the duffel as a headrest, lay down and closed his eyes. A few moments later he too was sound asleep. The EM isolation worked well, insulating the room from all scanning attempts.

  Outside, light rain continued to fall while the distant sounds of festivities could be heard in the otherwise still night.

  T minus 24 hours - Operation Moksh

  T he scenario planners at the Crisis Management Group had never taken an alien attack into account. The closest alternative of a devastating terrorist attack or a nuclear strike were being adapted for the evacuation plan. Earlier that day, six people had sat in the CMG getting briefed on the possible outcomes of a nuclear attack on any major city of India.

  What they'd learned from the army general in the last hour had chilled them to the bone. Such a strike, it had been calculated, would kill five million people within five kilometers of the blast radius. Their deaths would be instantaneous and merciful. At ten kilometers out, casualties would be nearly 50%, progressively decreasing with distance. Ten million would likely be dead within the first few minutes, and fifteen million a month later. Half the population would be wiped out. The city itself would be obliterated from the face of Earth. The entire urban area rendered unfit for habitation for generations to come.

  The NIA still had twenty-four hours left of the original deadline issued by the PM. But the preparations for evacuation had to start in case the NIA failed. There was little debate. The order was given and Operation Moksh, deliverance, was under way. The CMG prayed silently that the NIA would succeed in preventing this catastrophe, but wise men prepare for the eventuality of failure. This was Plan B. The largest ever movement of civilians after the partition of 1947 would take place here in Mumbai, in precisely twenty-four hours. For the general citizens and the media, if they ever got a whiff of it, this was just a routine military and police exercise to test readiness.

  The city had been divided into sectors as per a predetermined plan, and sector commanders were moving into position with their troops. At the outskirts of the city, at every army, navy and air force base, swarms of quadcopters, seagoing vessels, tracked vehicles and thousands of soldiers were being assembled from every available army and paramilitary unit. Twelve miles to the west, deep in the Arabian Sea, seamen were receiving their first briefings. Areas of operation were being assigned to each unit commander, and they were, in turn, passing them on to their NCOs.

  The first task would be to secure the borders and stop anyone from entering the danger zone. Four brigades with almost twelve thousand troops and support staff had been tasked for this. There were six destroyers and ten offshore coast guard patrol vessels. The South Western Air command, Pune and Jamnagar stations would secure the skies with hyperplanes, flying continuous sorties at different altitudes. Other air force stations were on standby to render aid as required, ready to fly in at a moment’s notice.

  Then it would be time for the evacuation itself. Every flying and surface vehicle would be requisitioned and apportioned to various sectors. The emergency override once activated, meant that all private and public autonomous vehicles would come under the control of the central transport computer. No longer capable of going to their destination on their own, the ones carrying passengers would be redirected to the nearest evacuation camp, and then they would proceed to the next collection point to continue the cycle. Managing the two hundred thousand individual vehicles, not counting the larger public transports, would be a headache to be handled by the local traffic police and the army MCOs or Movement Control Officers.

  Every commercial plane already in the air would be diverted to a nearby airport once the signal was given. The ones on the ground would be loaded only with passengers and would take off sequentially. These would go to the designated passenger airports away from Mumbai and then wait there.

  Even in the best of situations, it was expected that no more than twenty-five percent of the population could be moved to safety in the first couple of hours. Evacuations would continue till feasible, but even after six hours of movement, a vast majority would still be in the city at the mercy of the TrueKifs. These would be the casualties of war.

  Sixteen emergency shelters were being set up outside the city. These shelters were designed to accommodate between two to five hundred thousand casualties. With millions of citizens remaining at risk within the strike zone, all these preparations would not be adequate. There wouldn't be enough hospitals or care workers to handle the victims. Most of the injured would die while waiting for help. There was no feasible scenario in which the authorities could protect every unnamed citizen of the megapolis.

  Two hundred thousand men and women of the military services started preparing for the longest day of their lives. They were preparing for vinaash - annihilation.

  T minus 20 hours - Marine Drive

  A fter the dramatic announcement that they are going alien hunting, Anara, Ryan, and Rawat sat across each other completely unable to come up with any ideas on where and how to begin. Night had fallen and, empty cups of tea/coffee aside, they had nothing to show for their efforts.

  At first, they had decided to focus on narrowing down the list of suspects. The table between them was full of names and details of every member of the crew and whatever the three of them could remember of their backgrounds. This, in their opinion, was a list of every potential suspect who could be helping the aliens here on Earth.

  “Maybe we're going about this the wrong way,” Rawat suddenly spoke up with a small gleam in his eye. “We'd assumed, no disrespect to the NIA, that the aliens and their agents on Earth need to communicate. And so we're looking for strange communication signals, right?”

  Anara and Ryan kept looking at him, too tired to even nod.

  “Right?” Rawat persisted, now getting up and pacing around. His usually immaculate uniform was wrinkled and grimy from the stress of the past two days, but his posture had remained erect. He tried to straighten his shirt and tucked a stray piece back into his trousers.

  “Right,” the other two finally responded in unison.

  “But what if that's a mistake? We should be looking for silence.”

  “It's too late in the night for puzzles, Rawat,” admonished Ryan quietly. “Why don't you just get to the point?” He poured himself a cup of lukewarm coffee having given up on tea and drank it straight up, hoping that it would clear the cobwebs from his mind.

  “We have been looking for strange signals till now. Now assume, just assume, Captain," he added hastily anticipating Anara's response, "that someone on Antariksh is responsible for the situation we’re in. Isn't it more likely that this individual will isolate himself and would not be communicating with any other person except the aliens? Now, we know that most of the crewmembers of Antariksh have dispersed on extended leaves to their homes. But after the last few years spent working and living together, I'll bet they're all keeping in touch and talking to each other.”

  The other two were intrigued now and finally alert enough to grasp what the major was implying.

  “Go on,” encouraged Anara, leaning forward.

  “So the only person who would be guilty is the one keeping quiet. Cut off from everyone and going off on his own.”

  “This means that,” started Ryan as realization dawned on him too, “instead of looking for communication signals, we should be looking for their absence on our normal ComNet phones. That's brilliant!”

  Rawat looked pleased as he sought concurrence from Anara. However, she s
till looked unconvinced. “It's a good idea, Rawat,” she agreed finally. “The only problem is - we've nothing at our disposal to follow up on that lead. We can't just log into the communication systems and take the data. We are isolated too, remember? Communication interception capability is still only with the NIA or the police.”

  “I am aware of that, Captain. But however secure any system may seem, it can still be hacked. Mobile networks are just as vulnerable. And… we do have one insider on the NIA team, and another who I affirm is the best all-around hacker outside the NIC.”

  “Who are you talking about?”

  “You've forgotten that Madhavan is at the NIA station. I'm sure Tej has kept him around otherwise he'd be here with us now. She may not admit it, but she needs his engineering expertise and right now and frankly so do we.”

  “And the hacker you're referring to, wouldn't happen to be Manisha, would it Rawat?” Ryan too had a twinkle in his eye - the caffeine from the coffee had finally kicked in.

  Rawat gave him a thumbs-up. “Essentially we have only one problem to solve now. How do we get in touch with Madhavan and Manisha?”

  Ryan suddenly jumped up excitedly and walked behind the sofa while hitting his head with his hand. “How could I have been so blind? I should still have access to my US military communication system. The NIA does not control that!”

  “What are you waiting for then? Get going! Can you connect to Manisha?”

  “Not directly, no. But I can connect to Joan, my wife. With the work she'd been doing for the US military, she's connected to the same communications network as I am. Let me see if it still works.” He sat back down and rolled up his sleeve. There were three small patches on his skin, just slightly darker in colour. One for the Indian ComNet, a second for ISC and the third was the US military transceiver that he was looking for, buried just below the skin on his left hand.