The Return of Vaman - A Scientific Novel (14 page)

The electronic clock in the communications room showed seconds ticking away. To Laxman the time taken to go from 00.59.00 to 01.00.00 seemed like ages. He expected Shulz to be punctual … so methodical had he been until now.

The phone rang at 01.00.04. At Samant’s nod, Laxman picked up the receiver and identified himself. Because the Major had attached a loudspeaker to the phone box, everyone in the room could now clearly hear each word that Shulz spoke.

‘Dr Laxmanan, listen carefully. In the drawer of the cash register of your canteen you will find a yellow sheet of paper. It has a map of your locality with two points, A and B, clearly marked. At a quarter to two, Vaman must appear at point A along with the information I asked for. The information has to be in the form of the package you got from the container—not an interpreted or doctored version. Let me warn you, I have means of checking whether the version is genuine. It had better be, for your wife’s sake! The car which brings Vaman to A must return right away, after flashing the headlights twice. And after fifteen minutes Vaman should walk to the spot marked B to be picked up … is everything clear?’

‘Yes … but what about my wife? Where is she?’ The Major smiled in approval at the desperate note of anxiety in Laxman’s voice. Karl Shulz must not know that Urmila had been located and would be rescued shortly.

‘All in good time, Dr Laxmanan. If you fulfill your side of the bargain, trust me to do the same. At six in the morning, you will know her whereabouts.’

The loud click informed everyone that Shulz had signed off.

By now a security guard had retrieved the yellow sheet, found exactly where Shulz had said it would be. Major Samant took it as another addition to the mounting evidence that Shulz had an accomplice right there in the Science Centre itself. Otherwise, how could Urmila be kidnapped on her very first outing? Who had waylaid the jeep driver with a false note and flattened one tyre?

‘Let the experts look for fingerprints right away!’ Samant stole a glance at Navin as he said this. Navin himself was staring at the yellow sheet.

‘I brought it along carefully, sir.’ The guard had used gloves while holding the paper. But he had more to add. ‘It is strange, though, that the paper has a perfume.’

‘No doubt used in lovers’ correspondence … we will soon find out’, Samant added drily as he sniffed the paper before passing it on for examination.

It was now five past one. He had to give marching orders to the commandos. He walked over to the radio phone and spoke: ‘Operation Umi: Come in.’

‘Ready for action, sir’, the reply came in loud and clear.

‘Go ahead.’

The commando task force had, in fact, reached the intended spot by midnight. First by helicopter and then on bicycles, the commandos had completed their journey unobtrusively. Their last lap on the highway was completed without lights. Fortunately for them, the traffic on the road was thin. If any truck driver had noticed a bunch of cyclists riding without lights, he had not reacted to that sight.

‘Stop’, the leader of the unit ordered, himself slowing down. He had spotted the farmhouse. But to be doubly sure, he examined under torch light the location printed out by the computer. ‘This is it, men … let’s go and wait over there.’ He pointed to a spot about fifty metres from the hut, where the tall grass provided good cover. The five commandos were soon swallowed up in the darkness.

‘Vaman … don’t you need some of us to come with you?’ Laxman asked anxiously.

‘No, Laxman! We don’t want to make Shulz suspicious—at any rate not while Urmila is still in his custody. And don’t worry about me … I can take care of myself with this little toy’, Vaman replied.

The ‘little toy’ was a laser gun that Vaman had made during the day. He demonstrated it on a metal target and even Major Samant was impressed.

‘Yes, I can take care of myself even though our friend is tall and hefty. Have you forgotten the story of David and Goliath?’

Laxman was not surprised that Vaman knew about this tale from the Old Testament. Nothing would surprise him about Vaman’s ability any more. As Vaman got into the car, Laxman pointed to the briefcase in his hand.

‘Make sure that Shulz does not suspect that he is getting false information again.’

‘Have no fear! Shulz will have no opportunity to suspect’, Vaman said.

Major Samant had one parting order for Vaman. ‘Don’t be overzealous with your toy, Vaman. We want Shulz alive.’

There was a pause before Vaman replied. ‘I don’t expect the need for the gun will arise.’

As he left for the rendezvous, Major Samant looked at his watch. It was a quarter past one.

‘Please, Major Samant, can you turn the light away?’ Navin was in great discomfort, but his appeal had no effect on the Major, whose face was set hard as granite.

‘I have to get the truth out of you, Dr Navin, and sometimes I can read it better in a face than when I hear it spoken. The light helps.’

Earlier, when Major Samant had politely sought a word with Navin, the latter did not expect to endure what seemed to him ‘third degree’. Samant had taken him to a closed room and seated him at a table with his face barely a foot away from a table lamp with a 100 W bulb in full power.

‘Let me congratulate you, Dr Navin, for your deception.’ The Major spoke from a corner where he could not be seen. ‘I thought that you had turned over a new leaf and were cooperating … Tell me, when exactly did you start helping Shulz again?’

‘I swear to you, Major, I have not helped Shulz on any occasion since the day I promised to go straight’, Navin said with passion.

‘Ha! Swearing will get you nowhere. This paper with your fingerprints speaks for itself.’ The Major showed him the yellow, scented paper and added. ‘The map is drawn with a green ball pen like the one you possess and which nobody else has here. The letters are in your handwriting, so my experts assure me.’

‘I admit the paper is mine. The pen could also be mine … but I’m baffled by your evidence. I am sure it is fabricated. Someone is trying to frame me’, Navin remonstrated shrilly.

‘Seventy per cent of the criminals caught red-handed say so. Let me give you my version. You were dead scared when Shulz killed Pyarelal. Scared enough to cooperate with him again. And with your plans for matrimony with the socialite Miss Runa, I am sure you needed money too … it all fits.’

A series of loud knocks at the door interrupted Major Samant. He opened the door to be confronted by Arul and Laxman, both highly agitated.

‘All is lost, Major’, Arul blurted out. Major Samant suddenly felt deflated.

‘Tell me quickly, is Urmilaji …’ he began apprehensively.

‘Not Urmila. We are still awaiting news of her.’ Laxman added, ‘It is about Vaman. A great mix-up has occurred. He was to take a package of false data to Shulz. It was all packed in a briefcase. I saw him take it with him …’

‘Yes, Dr Laxmanan, I too saw him take it.’ The Major was now somewhat calmer in mind.

‘But that was the wrong briefcase, Major! Someone put the correct package in Vaman’s briefcase. And the false one is still here in another identical briefcase’, Arul said as he produced a briefcase.

‘Yes, the original, correct package is gone’, Laxman confirmed. ‘So Shulz has got what he wanted, thanks to this mix-up.’

‘Where did you find this case?’ the Major asked.

‘Lying on Navin’s table. In fact we discovered it accidentally, as we went to look for him there. We cannot understand how it happened Major.’

‘I do. It all fits’, the Major said. Then turning to Navin, he added, ‘Perhaps all this is fabricated too? Dr Navin, I have no alternative but to place you under arrest. Let me put you somewhere for the night where you cannot cause any more mischief.’

Arul and Laxman stared at Navin. The Major felt he owed them an explanation. ‘What you have found fits naturally into the whole picture. Dr Navin has truly outwitted us. I will give you the details in the morning when we shall all sit in judgement on this master accomplice. He has throughout been aiding and abetting Shulz. As far as Shulz is concerned, our only hope now rests in Vaman … Can he handle that master criminal? Come on Dr Navin, follow me.’

As Navin left the room he stared long and hard at the briefcase. To Arul and Laxman, that look communicated a deep desolation and despair.

At five past one the commandos started moving towards the hut, crawling on the ground to avoid detection. There were no bushes near the farmhouse to conceal them from watchers within, but the almost total absence of moonlight helped.

Near the house the leader of the unit and one commando went to the left and the other three to the right. A man armed with a gun and a walkie-talkie stood alert at the door facing the highway. The commandos had no difficulty recognizing him as Balu. At the other door sat another watchman, apparently half asleep. The task force had no knowledge as to whether others were inside. If there were, they must not know that their colleagues were being overpowered.

The dozing watchman had a momentary phase of total wakefulness before he passed into oblivion. However, a slight noise alerted Balu.

‘Rajan, are you OK?’ he asked from his end. Receiving no reply, Balu let out a curse and muttered, ‘The wretch has dozed off. Let us wake him up with a whack.’ He walked across and saw Rajan apparently lying asleep on the ground.

‘Wake up you idiot!’ he accompanied the invocation with a kick. Simultaneously, he felt a karate chop descend on his shoulder and he knew no more.

‘Two down’, announced the Captain softly. Meanwhile, other commandos had entered the hut and overpowered the third man, who had been fast asleep. Urmila was awake, terrified but unharmed.

‘Operation Umi over and successful.’ The Captain radioed the message.

Major Samant gave a sigh of relief and looked at the clock. It was one thirty.

Exactly at a quarter to two a car dropped Vaman at point A and turned back. But it did not go straight back to the Science Centre.

About a kilometre from point A, it turned into a side lane and stopped. The driver opened the boot and let out two commandos. Then the car turned back and reported to the Science Centre.

The two commandos made their way swiftly but unobtrusively to spot A. By then Vaman had begun his solitary walk to spot B. The commandos hid themselves behind a bush and watched his progress.

The place selected by Major Samant as a temporary lockup for Navin was the same large hall in which the container and its contents were well guarded, the door to the hall was fitted with a formidable lock. As the key turned in it, Navin became agonizingly aware of his lonely confinement.

He had tried his utmost to convince Samant of his innocence. But when he asserted that the evidence was fabricated and planted, the dour Major had turned round and asked, ‘Whom do you suspect?’ Indeed, to this question Navin had no answer. He had lost contact with Shulz long ago, and now Pyarelal was dead. The way all the incriminating evidence had turned up pointed to an inside job. But who, in this Science Centre, wanted him out of the way so desperately? Since nothing would happen now till the morning Navin pushed this nagging question away and looked for a place to sleep. It was then that he noticed the plaque on the solitary bench in that large hall.

It looked familiar … where had he seen it before?

Then memory came rushing back. He recalled Arul telling him that the plaque was found while digging, but that it was at a shallower depth than the container itself. It had been kept aside and eventually forgotten with the discovery of the container’s sensational contents. Navin remembered seeing the plaque and the letters on it. At that time he had not mastered the key to that ancient script, but he could now read it as easily as a modern alphabet. Looking at the letters again, the archaeologist in him took precedence. Perhaps this plaque was intended to exhort the digger to go deeper and find the container. With mounting interest he turned his eyes over those strange symbols, his mind piecing together their message.

The plaque contained words in bold red letters in the central square, surrounded by a considerably longer text in a smaller, black script. Reading the red-lettered message alone, he sat up, startled. He then read the text in black as fast as he could.

When Navin had finished, he realized that a message had to be communicated urgently. It was essential to get in touch with Major Samant. He looked round desperately … and the sight of a phone on the barricaded window lifted some of his gloom.

‘I must talk to Major Samant, please.’

‘Samant, here … Of course, it’s Mr Navin, is it not? Getting tired of your confinement already? Or do you have a confession in mind?’

‘Major, please! This is no joking matter. We have been taken for a ride. I have now solved the mystery … and must explain it to you all … please bring Arul and Laxman too.’

‘All right … but let me caution you: no tricks.’

‘Bring an army to watch over me if you like … but I beg you, don’t lose a moment!’ Navin’s voice was desperate but sincere, and Major Samant acted quickly.

Navin was clearly relieved to see Arul and Laxman with Samant. As soon as they entered he led them to the plaque.

‘Remember this plaque?’ he asked. Arul and Laxman nodded. They too had ignored its existence once they were absorbed in the mysteries of the container. Navin continued:

‘This is where all the relevant information is noted down … we were fools to ignore it.’

Major Samant intervened. ‘Mr Navin, I though you had hit upon some new evidence. This plaque is thousands of years old. What possible bearing could the inscription have on our problems today? We want to know about Urmila’s kidnapping, the ransom we had to pay in the form of Vaman, and about the mole who is giving our secrets to Shulz and company … I have no time to waste on ancient inscriptions. I am anxiously waiting for Vaman to return.’

‘You may wait till the cows come home, Major Samant!’ Navin smiled ironically. ‘Vaman will not come back. And, by letting him go and shutting me up here you have committed the classic confusion between the guilty and the innocent.’

‘Take it easy, Navin. Surely you don’t imply that Vaman is guilty?’ Laxman asked incredulously.

‘The evidence for Vaman’s guilt is written here, gentlemen. Let me read it all out to you straightaway.’

And without more ado, he began with the inscription in red:

‘Beware! Those who happen to discover the container beneath, be sure to read first what is inscribed herein.’

Navin then continued with the inscription in black:

‘Should you discover the container and be clever enough to decipher its store of knowledge, please exercise the utmost caution so that you avoid the fate that befell us …’

The three listerners quietly heard the denouement read out by Navin in sepulchral tones.

When the container was buried, we Monads were riding high on the crest of prosperity. We were able to draw upon the ample reserves of this beautiful planet to sustain our great civilization. And we were confident of being able to do so for a long time to come. Nevertheless we decided to enclose information about ourselves in a time capsule so that, should unforeseen events extinguish our civilization, those records would tell those who follow us, possibly centuries or millennia later, how we had flourished. Little did we know that the end would come so soon.

But such is the situation now. Within ten days of the internment of this plaque not a single Monad will be left on this planet. The tragedy is that the end did not come from any natural calamity but was brought upon us by our own actions. Lest you who discover this container are tempted to do the same … be warned.

The container will give you information about our science and technology, our music and fine arts and about our philosophy. You may be dazzled by it and may want to follow in our footsteps. But, friends, be careful how you use this information. Let our fate serve as a warning.

We recall the day when our scientists achieved the zenith of progress, when they were able to create and employ artificial intelligence. A thinking but mechanical Monad, one who could make a copy of itself. This achievement not only had tremendous practical uses, but also boosted our ego. We had finally succeeded in creating something that, like us, could think and reproduce … we called our mechanical counterparts
Konads
.

How we celebrated that day! The teams of scientists who had perfected the Konads were feted all over the world. And we planned the numerous ways in which Konads would serve us, to make our life even more agreeable.

The Konads translated all our expectations into reality. They solved with great ease the outstanding problems that had bothered our scientists. They implemented the plans on the drawing board of our technologists. With their intelligence they rapidly improved themselves, becoming increasingly more knowledgeable and efficient. They were evolving.

That was when we thought of a time capsule … of the container beneath that provides the key to all our achievements, including the making of Konads. The container, as we now realize, was motivated at least partially by the Monadic ego.

Little did we realize that we were also evolving, but down the spiral of progress. As our dependence on the Konads increased we began to lose our zest and initiative. Why work if everything we wanted done was accomplished so much more rapidly and efficiently by Konads? As their masters, we could command them to do our bidding. So why work?

The Konads were watching our slide into inaction. Our brains, which had evolved to their present state by facing so many challenges, now went into a state of stupor, while the Konadic brain was improving rapidly. And their numbers were also increasing—something we did not realize until it was too late.

The Konads made us believe that by multiplying their population they would serve us so much better. But in reality their sole motive was their own survival and welfare. They were willing servants and pupils so long as we could teach them something. When that stage was past, we became redundant in their scheme of things. And, of course, their super-efficient brains told them to discard everything redundant.

So they decided to do away with us.

That terrible morning is fresh in our memory. All the Konads went on strike. They simply disappeared from our colonies. And that was enough to cause chaos. Food, energy, medicine, entertainment—everything we needed had come to depend so much on the Konads that we were rendered totally helpless. We called upon the Konads to come back and resume work, we offered them inducements, we threatened them, we even tried to divide them. But nothing worked. And we could see their game. Merely their inaction would bring about our end. They did not need to waste energy on violence.

And they were right. Already, as we write this, the Monad population on this planet is down to half its original size. Lacking our forefathers’ fitness to struggle for survival, the rest of us will succumb within ten days. But we have one cause for satisfaction. We have arranged for an automatic and irreversible shutdown of all our power houses. So when we go, the Konads cannot survive much longer either. After all, they too need energy.

How we wish we could destroy all the information in the time capsule that deals with the making of Konads. But we neither have the means nor the energy to dig and recover the container. So we leave this plaque as a warning.

In the darkness of despair around us, we see one ray of hope, however. Although all our communities are going to die here, that is not the end of the human race. Some primitive tribes are left on this planet. Like other animals, we have left them untouched in the jungles. They were part of our experiments on evolution under natural processes. So we never interfered with their existence. Our hope is that one day those tribes will progress to a stage when they will be able to appreciate all we have done.

To those descendants of our primitive brothers we leave this warning. Do not bring Konads into existence. At first they will seem friendly. But they are not friends. They are not enemies either. Their sole aim is to better themselves, without regard for anyone who stands in the way. We entreat you, therefore, do not allow Konads to come back to this planet.

So, beware …

The Monad Society