Aaditya barely made it in time for his first class the next morning. He had woken up late, and had then decided to ride his bike to college. He had bought his bike just a month ago, and was still getting used to it. At the time, it had seemed like a bright idea, but now that he was faced with the practicalities of kick-starting it, he was yet to work out a routine that did not leave him looking like a circus acrobat, or gasping in pain as he put pressure on his right leg.
Transfemoral prosthesis. Trust the doctors to come with such a fancy word to describe chopping off your leg and sticking an artificial and inconvenient contraption in its place. As Aaditya entered his class, he reminded himself that he should not really be blaming the doctors for chopping off his leg-he had been the one responsible for that. And as for the contraption he now had attached below his right thigh, it may not be a real leg, but it sure beat hobbling along on one foot and carrying crutches, as he had done for the first three months after the accident. More than a year later, when he walked, nobody could tell that he had an artificial leg. That was of course, unless they wanted to see him in shorts or, indeed, go dancing. The onelegged hop-now that would be a sure way to impress Supriya, wouldn't it?
'You seem to be in a good mood. So, did you catch up with Supriya later at night?' As Aaditya sat down at his desk he just gave a look of sheer exasperation at Sam's comment. Sam reached over and whispered into Aaditya's ear. 'Take it from someone who's neither older, nor much wiser, but you need to stop thinking of what you don't have and think of what you do have. Come on, man, — short of casting you in a bloody fairness cream ad, I don't know what else I can do to convince you that the girls have their eyes on you.'
Aaditya grinned. Trust Sam to break the ice like that.
After classes, Aaditya had been invited for tea to Wing Commander Asthana's house. The Wing Commander had been a batchmate of his father's and had helped Aaditya settle down in Delhi when he had moved here from Pune after his accident, both for his treatment and also to move into the apartment his father had left for him. Aaditya always felt a bit uncomfortable meeting Dad's former colleagues. They brought back memories of the life he had left behind, and even if he was imagining it, he always thought their eyes reflected the unasked question of how he could have thrown it all away.
An hour later, Aaditya was on his bike, riding home. While he had not shown much interest to Sam, he had already taken Supriya's number. He may be missing a leg, and he certainly did not want any woman to go out with him out of pity, but he retained enough sense to know that he would be a fool to not call Supriya again. She was a looker for sure, but more importantly, he had really been comfortable with her, so there was really no harm in going out with her and seeing where things went from there.
His bike was almost halfway home, threading through the dense traffic near the Delhi Zoo, before getting on to the bridge across the Yamuna and then on to Mayur Vihar in the suburbs, where his apartment was. Suddenly, he saw a bus careen towards him from the opposite direction. The bus driver was either drunk, or didn't know how to drive, or both, because he was weaving in and out of his lane. At the last minute, Aaditya swerved his bike to avoid the bus.
'Bastard!' Aaditya screamed over his shoulder as he continued home. He tried to think what he'd say to Supriya when he called her, but the bus bearing down at him had brought back other, painful memories.
BK or AK?
That mystifying question had been the first words he had heard when he had awakened to find himself on a hospital bed. The day after the search for his father had been called off, he had pleaded with the authorities to keep looking. Perhaps his father had just drifted away. Perhaps he was unconscious and had not seen or heard any of the helicopters. The officer in charge of the search, a man who had known Aaditya since he had been in diapers, had looked to be on the verge of tears, but said that there was nothing more to be done. Aaditya should have known better, but he had been only seventeen, and had just lost the only family he had ever known. So he had helped himself to his father's stash of Scotch, and then screaming out his rage at the unfairness of it all, had gone roaring down the highway on his bike.
By the time he saw the bus, it had been too late.
BK or AK? Below the knee or above the knee? That was what the doctor had been asking, Aaditya realized later. There is perhaps no good way to lose a leg, but as Aaditya was to learn, if you do lose one, pray it's BK. An amputation above the knee makes recovery much tougher. The Air Force had paid for the best care available, and he had been fitted with a state of the art prosthetic leg, but the doctor told him, with an amputation above the knee, the average patient needed 80 per cent more strength to carry himself along than a normal person. Aaditya had beaten those odds, turning to the gym with a frenzy, building his already strong physique into solid muscle, but he had not been so lucky when, after six months, he had worked up the courage to ask his father's Commanding Officer whether he still had a chance to be a fighter pilot.
Chopra uncle, as Aaditya had known him for most of his life, had looked up Aaditya nearly every day since his father had been lost. Now he told Aaditya that he could certainly still join the Air Force, provided he could pass the fitness tests. That had been the good news. The bad news was that the doctors had recommended that even if he were to be accepted into the Air Force, it should be ideally for ground duties, since they were not sure his leg could take the strain of flying. At best he could be allowed to pilot helicopters, but fast jets were out. The strains of pulling high G forces could be dangerous, and if he ever had to use an ejection seat, his leg would never be able to withstand the force.
Aaditya had wondered if he had made the right decision in giving up on joining the Air Force. He knew the answer. No matter how much he regretted not joining the Air Force, working in it every day, next to fighters and fighter pilots, yet knowing he could never be one of them was far worse than being in a world removed from it all.
Still rattled by the near accident and by the memories it had brought back, he stopped his bike near the Old Fort, wanting to grab some fresh air and clear his head. And perhaps call Supriya.
It was now almost nine at night. Till a few hours back the grounds had been full of families strolling or taking a ride in the boats on the small lake in front of the fort. Now it was totally deserted. There were a few food stalls open outside the front gates, and he picked up some chips, and munching on them, walked towards the lake. Lost in thought, after a while he realized just how far he had ventured when he turned to see the traffic in the distance behind him, their lights dimly lighting up the darkness. Oh well, he was in no hurry to go anywhere. The cool October weather in Delhi was perfect, so he walked some more and entered the main fort premises, walking through the ruins till he found a secluded spot near a large tree that was just a few metres away from the lake. He sat down there to call Supriya.
She picked up on the third ring.
'Hey Supriya, it's Aadi here.'
'Hey there! So did you decide to make up for ditching me last night?'
Aaditya smiled. Good looking and nice. They did still make girls that way.
'Here's a deal, don't ask me to dance, and if you're free tomorrow, I'll treat you to dinner any place you like.'
A brave offer since he had heard she came from a pretty rich family, but he hoped that she would not ask for the Taj. And if she did, what the hell, Aaditya was feeling happy and reckless enough.
Before she could answer, someone stumbled into Aaditya, sending his phone flying on to the grass.
'What the…'
Before he could complete his sentence, he looked up to see a very large man, dressed in black. Aaditya could not make out many of his features, except that the face was black as the night. Figuring that this did not look like the kind of man to get into a tangle with and not wanting any trouble, he got up and moved out of the man's way to pick up his phone.
That was when he heard the scream.
***
The scream that pierced the night was high-pitched and shrill, but the moaning that followed left no doubt that it was from a person in utter agony. The man who had just bumped into Aaditya raced towards the sound, moving at a speed faster than Aaditya would have believed someone his size capable of.
Probably some gang related violence.
Not wanting to get caught up in it, Aaditya started to turn towards the lake and make his way back to the gate, which was a few hundred metres away. That was when he saw a struggle in the distance. He could not see too many details in the dark, but what was obvious was that a large figure, likely the man who had just bumped into him, was grappling with a much smaller person. The long hair made it obvious that she was a woman.
Aaditya never liked getting into fights. Always more trouble than they're worth, his father used to say. Walk away if all you're fighting for is your ego. Defuse the situation if you can, and only fight if you're left with no option.
Walking away was not an option, not when it looked like there was a woman in trouble. However, Aaditya had every intention of settling this with little or no fighting. He figured it was a local goon who was taking advantage of the darkness and the secluded location to get frisky with a woman. Most likely he would just scoot when he saw that there was someone else there.
Aaditya rushed towards them. With his leg, he could no longer sprint like he once did in school, but he moved as fast as he could. When he was closer, he saw a man sprawled on the ground, but the other man and the woman were still locked in a struggle.
'Let her go!' He screamed at the top of his voice, and the man turned to look at him. Aaditya was now close enough to see the man more clearly. He was huge, at least a few inches taller than Aaditya and much broader across the chest and shoulders. His forehead seemed to have a prominent ridge above the eyebrows. As Aaditya paused, wondering what that could be, the woman struck.
She was small, perhaps no more than five feet six inches and thin, almost waiflike, but she struck with a speed and precision that shocked Aaditya. Her hand snaked out and hit the large man on the neck, sending him down in a heap, grabbing at his neck and gurgling in agony.
Aaditya stopped in his tracks.
What the hell had he got into?
The woman looked at him for an instant, and he could now see her long, flowing hair, cascading down to her waist. She was wearing a fitting white suit, similar to what divers wore. But what struck him the most was her face. Her eyes were blazing as if on fire, and she had a dark red smear running down the middle of her forehead. Even though she was much smaller than him, Aaditya felt truly afraid as her eyes bore through him.
He was about to back off, when four more men suddenly appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. They looked to be carbon copies of the one the woman had already dispatched-large, well built, and dressed in black. Two of them took out curved blades and lunged at the woman. Aaditya wasn't sure what to do, the woman certainly looked like she could take care of herself, yet he didn't want to just walk away, leaving her facing these four new attackers. His choice was made for him when one of the men saw him and rushed at him.
Aaditya was in great physical shape, having been an athlete for most of his school years, and had a Brown Belt in Karate to boot. As his attacker came closer and reached out to grab Aaditya, he side-stepped, took the man's wrist, and using the larger man's momentum against him, sent him sprawling to the ground. Aaditya turned to see that the woman had sent one attacker down, but was now trading blows with her other attacker, a blade in her own hand. The two of them moved in a deadly rhythm, circling each other, looking for an opening, striking and blocking with lightning speed. Aaditya would have kept watching, but he now had big problems of his own. Two big problems.
Two men, including the one he had sent down, were now running towards him. As tough as he thought he was, he wasn't sure he could take on both of these giants, and not having any way of backing off now, he decided to use surprise to his advantage and struck first. His feet couldn't move as fast as they once could, and he certainly was limited in his ability to kick, but he moved towards the nearer man, and landed a series of two quick punches-one to the solar plexus that winded the big man, and as he doubled over, a second blow to the temple that sent the man staggering back. Aaditya had put most of his strength into the blows and was shocked when the man stood up a split second later and grinned at him, baring a mouth full of yellowed and deformed teeth.
Now I'm in deep shit.
The second man struck out at Aaditya with a punch. He saw it coming and blocked it, his right hand coming down in an arc to deflect the momentum of the man's blow, and followed through with a kick to the shin. The blow jarred Aaditya's right leg and sent pain shooting through his body, but the metal and carbon fibre artificial leg did much more damage than his real leg would ever have. The man grabbed his shin and staggered down on one knee. Before Aaditya could do anything else, total pandemonium erupted around him.
He felt a gust of wind blow around him, and sand being blown across his face, before he heard the humming noise behind him. It was no louder than a vacuum cleaner, but when he turned to look, he saw a large flying vehicle land just next to the lake. He could not make out too many details in the dark, but it was easily as large as a fighter jet, and seemed to be white in colour. It had a raised canopy, and a nose that was split and curved upwards, like a bull's horns. As the vehicle landed on the sand, the canopy slid open, and a man jumped out.
He was tall, perhaps as tall as the four men in black Aaditya and the woman had been grappling with, but while they looked like gym-buffed bodybuilders, this man was all lean muscle. He wore a striped bodysuit, and as he came closer, Aaditya thought they looked like tiger stripes. His hair was matted, almost in dreadlocks and he carried what looked like a small trident in his hand.
If the woman had looked like she could dish out violence, this newcomer took it to a whole new level. He rolled on the ground, evading a blow from one attacker and casually slashed him in the back with the trident, sending him down, and even before he had fully gotten up from the roll, he had implanted the trident in another man's stomach. In no more than a couple of seconds, he had killed or maimed two of the giants, and stood facing the remaining two, a smile playing at the edges of his mouth.
'Want to dance, dear daityas?'
The two men rushed at him, blades glistening in the dark. The woman intercepted one, sliding on the ground, her legs wrapping around his, sending him down as she gracefully rolled on to one knee, and brought her blade down in one smooth move. When Aaditya looked up, he saw that the last man in black was also down, lying at the feet of the man with matted hair. He felt a surge of panic as the man walked towards him now, bloodied trident in hand, but the woman came between them, gently shaking her head. The two of them entered the flying vehicle and in an instant, it had taken off and disappeared from view.
Aaditya moved to a corner of the grounds and slumped behind a fallen oak tree. Getting into the odd scrape in school was one thing. The violence he had witnessed was of a totally different nature. Sitting there among six dead or dying men, he fumbled for his phone, wondering if he should call the police.
What would he tell them? How could he explain what he had just witnessed? That was when he saw the glowing cylinder lying a few feet away from him. He picked it up gingerly and was about to take a closer look when he heard another flying vehicle approach. It was a different ship, black in colour and shaped like a saucer. One of the men writhing on the ground seemed to be in contact with the pilot and said, presumably into some communication system, 'They got away. We need help.'
If help was what they were looking for, they did not get it. Some sort of beam flashed from the ship, and one by one, the men lying on the ground were incinerated, reduced to ash in an instant.
Aaditya lay hiding behind the tree, not daring to breathe. When he heard the sound of the ship receding, and got up to see a clear sky, he ran faster than he had in years to his bike and sped home.
***
Aaditya breathed freely only when he was back home. He saw on his phone that he had four missed calls from Supriya, but she was the last thing on his mind right now. He went into the bathroom, standing under the shower for what seemed to be an eternity, trying to calm himself down and to come to grips with what he had just seen. It was clearly not a gang fight, gangs did not arrive on the scene in flying vehicles. What the hell had he seen? He changed and dumped his dust-covered clothes, remembering to take out the old squadron patch.
That was when he saw the cylinder in his trouser pocket. He had totally forgotten about it in the chaos, and now he took a closer look. It was perhaps eight inches long and an inch in diameter. It was totally transparent, and what was most striking was the viscous liquid it contained. Milky white and thick, the liquid occupied about half of the cylinder. Aaditya put it on his bedside table, figuring that whatever the cylinder was, it was by no means the weirdest thing he had witnessed tonight.
Aaditya had all but given up drinking after his accident, but now he felt like he needed a stiff drink. Not having anything stronger than Coke at home, he poured himself a large glass of that and downed it in one gulp. When he put the glass down, he saw that his hands were shaking badly. He sat down on the sofa, closing his eyes and leaning his head back. His arms hurt from the fight, and his right leg was in a world of pain from the kick he had delivered. He had already decided that he was not going to call the police, figuring that he wasn't even sure what he would report.
He called Sam, and then disconnected before the call was answered. What would he tell? He realized that the best way was to just move on, to not get involved any further in whatever had happened that night. And he knew of only one way of truly taking his mind off things.
He walked to his study table, and booted up his computer. Then he bent down, detached the prosthetic leg and put it beside him, rubbing the sore stump.
He put in his favorite flight sim, and then logged on to multiplayer mode using his handle IndianBader.
Only a few people got it, but it was a name Aaditya loved. His handle had been inspired by Douglas Bader, a Royal Air Force pilot who had lost both his legs in an accident, and then with two prosthetic legs, had gone on to be one of the most decorated fighter aces in the Second World War. Aaditya would not get a chance to emulate him in real life, but here, in his virtual playground, he ruled the skies. Part of it was sheer practice, since he had been playing for years, but part of it was what his father had told him. Some fighter pilots just had it. Call it instinct, call it luck-the ability to sense what to do a split second before others. A split second difference that often spelt the difference between life and death. After half an hour of flying and a half dozen air battles won, IndianBader had once again topped the leaderboards, and Aaditya took a break to grab another drink. He lost count of how many sorties he took off on, but reckoned it was at least one too many, and that it was already way past his usual bedtime. While that meant he would have a terrible time waking up in time for college the next morning, at least it helped him forget what he had just been through.
Almost.
When he got back to his computer and logged on to one of his favorite aviation forums, as luck would have had it, the most recent discussion thread was about aircraft that had gone missing while chasing UFOs. The last post read, 'Hey X-Files freaks, there are no UFOs, so just get back to reality.'
When he woke up in the morning, he would blame the stress he had been under, but maybe he just needed to unburden himself, and so he had posted a message in reply. It said: I don't know about UFOs or aliens, but there are flying vehicles whose origin we cannot be sure of. I know because I saw two of them tonight. And I know these were not meteors or military planes, since I saw them from less than fifty feet away. I've grown up around fighters, and as I've been on this forum for years now, you guys know by now that I don't bullshit. And what I saw tonight was no military jet we know of.
He of course left out any mention of the fighting or the dead bodies, but went on to describe the first vehicle. He then logged off and went to bed.
The next morning Aaditya woke up with a bad headache and wondered if it had all been a terrible dream. Unable to contain his curiosity, he booted up his computer, knowing he would be late for college again. He wanted to check what others had made of his comments on the forum. When he logged on, he saw that his post had disappeared, and if anyone had responded to it, there was no sign of it either. He was secretly relieved. He had written the comment when he had been very freaked out. Now in the sober reality of day, he was glad people would not see his ravings about UFOs and write him off as another alien-chasing nutcase.
The morning went by in a blur of lectures and classes, and for once, he was glad to be in college. Sometimes being too busy to worry about things was good. Of course, there was one piece of unfinished business he had not forgotten about. He had not seen Supriya around all day, and so he called her just after noon, wondering if she would ever know what a supreme sacrifice he was making in giving up his gaming time to talk to her.
She did not answer, and Aaditya wondered if she was pissed with him. He couldn't blame her. From her standpoint, he had hung up on her mid-conversation and then not bothered to call her or answer her calls and messages.
Figuring out that she was either too busy or too pissed off to talk to him, Aaditya whipped out his PSP and was soon lost in a sortie. He had just evaded a missile and shot down two fighters and was on the tail of the bomber, downing which was the chief objective of this particular mission, when he was interrupted by a tap on the shoulder.
'Sam, I had the frigging bomber in my sights, man!'
He heard a cough followed by a voice that most decidedly did not belong to Sam.
'I'm sorry to have interrupted your sortie, Mr Ghosh, but I did want to meet you urgently.'
Aaditya whirled around to find himself face to face with the principal, Dr Bakshi.
Oh shit! First he was caught gaming in class and now he had just sworn at the principal. Could things get any worse? Dr Bakshi sat down next to Aaditya at the foot of the stairs overlooking the basketball court. Actually, Aaditya was a bit relieved that it was in fact the principal and not Donkey or one of his other professors. Dr Bakshi was known to be quite chilled out, and thought nothing of hanging out with his students to get to know what was on their minds. What he said next though totally stumped Aaditya.
'You, Mr Ghosh, are a man of hidden talents.'
Aaditya had no idea what he was talking about. The principal must have thought he was being modest.
'Don't worry, it's great to show initiative like this, and if you have connections that you can use to get us such major sponsors for our college festival, we'd be only too happy to oblige.'
Aaditya was getting more and more confused and alarmed that there had been some misunderstanding.
'Dr Bakshi, I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about, and if something has gone wrong, it's not something I meant to do.'
Now it was the principal's turn to look baffled.
'I assumed you knew the guy since he came in saying his company was willing to put down such a large sponsorship because you had approached them.'
'Which guy?'
Now Dr Bakshi told him that he had got a call that morning from someone claiming to be Vice President, Corporate Communications for a firm called DSI.
'DSI? Never heard of them.'
The principal scratched his head, realizing that what he had thought was an easy new source of sponsorship was now getting more complicated.
'I hadn't either, but then he told me that they are a privately held conglomerate, with interests in many industries. I checked their website and it seemed very impressive. He said that they wanted to sponsor our college festival, including refurbishing the auditorium. All they wanted was some promotional activity and branding in college, which was obviously cool with me.'
So far, it did not sound very unusual. Aaditya knew that when festival season came around, the college would be canvassing for such sponsors. The unusual thing was where he fit into all this.
'Its great we have a new sponsor, but what does it have to do with me?'
'He mentioned that he wanted to meet only you. He asked for you by name and said that he wanted to thank you. That's why I assumed you knew him or something.'
'Sir, I have never heard of the company before, but what did he say his name was? Maybe he is connected to me in some way.'
'Ask him yourself.'
Aaditya started in surprise.
'He's here?'
'Yes. He's waiting in my visiting room, and says he wants to meet you.'
'Shit!'
Dr Bakshi smiled.
'Now that you've started attracting sponsors with your celebrity status, go and charm a few more rupees out of them.'
Aaditya looked to be on the verge of panic.
'Who is this guy and why does he want to meet me? What's his name?'
'Here's his card. As for the rest, I'm afraid I know as little as you.'
Aaditya looked at the gold embroidered card the principal had just handed him.
The name printed on the card was N.Muni. Wondering what was going on, Aaditya set out to meet this mysterious sponsor.