This is a Hello from Deepak
Wednesday, August 24, 2005
Tuesday, August 16, 2005
Thursday, August 11, 2005
The Nod - A Poem by Deepak Menon
We met again ....
An age had passed,
Nay, a thousand ages,
Since your love did wane.
Time had not dulled or stilled
The inflections of your voice,
Echoing in my brain
You stepped out of the coach
As serene as on the day you left,
Looked at me casually, without shame.
Your stranger's face overlapped
Your image, which since you left,
Had in my heart lain.
Waking me from my sleep of ages
As your face, nodding politely,
My sorrow did forever drain.
The thousand ages, there ended
With that indifferent nod.
I boarded my train.
Yet, remained a subdued longing
For the age, now forever past,
A bittersweet pain.
We never met again .....
An age had passed,
Nay, a thousand ages,
Since your love did wane.
Time had not dulled or stilled
The inflections of your voice,
Echoing in my brain
You stepped out of the coach
As serene as on the day you left,
Looked at me casually, without shame.
Your stranger's face overlapped
Your image, which since you left,
Had in my heart lain.
Waking me from my sleep of ages
As your face, nodding politely,
My sorrow did forever drain.
The thousand ages, there ended
With that indifferent nod.
I boarded my train.
Yet, remained a subdued longing
For the age, now forever past,
A bittersweet pain.
We never met again .....
Thursday, August 04, 2005
THE LOTUS OF THE DESERT A poem by Deepak Menon
As I walked along the road, I spied
A little boy sitting, by its side.
His head was held in one tiny hand
With the other he scribbled in the sand.
I stopped and asked him why he looked sad,
He looked up and said he was feeling bad
That his parents had for him no time
Not even to read him a nursery rhyme.
He had for his company only toys
Which he shared with the other boys,
But no books had he with him to talk
When his parents went for a walk.
How he wished they could see his heart
Which had yearned for books from the start
BOOKS like he had often seen
In neighboring houses where he had been.
My heart went out to the little boy
Who had been deprived of tasting the joy
Of the wonderful world found only in books
Delicacies prepared by the finest cooks.
I took his hand and walked with him
To the stately mansion he lived in
And found it full of empty shelves
Empty heads caring for them selves
With not a thought for the hidden need
Of the little soul drying like a weed
Thirsting for knowledge not knowing where
To find it, because no one did care.
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
The Doon Valley- Alive with the beauty of Nature
3.JPG)
Dreams come alive at the Sulphur Springs Road
Where a solitary Gliding Dove stands
In The Doon Valley
Monday, July 25, 2005
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
Monday, July 18, 2005
If ever - A Poem by Deepak Menon
IF EVER, OVER MY GRAVE, YOU GRIEVE
A moment ago your eyes personified life's joys, great and small
Your face smiled at the world.
Your face still smiles, but like the smile painted on a doll
As absently, you brush aside a curl,
Of your carelessly ribboned locks of wavy lustrous hair
Falling in a cascade around your face.
And I see that the fire of love in your eyes, is no longer there
Vanished without a trace.
I know that, for some time you will continue to profess love
While you gently retreat,
From my life, knowing that, I have already suffered enough
While worshipping your feet.
I wonder if you will ever think about me in later years,
When another, you gently leave;
I wonder if your lovely eyes will well with reluctant tears,I
f ever, over my grave, you grieve.
A moment ago your eyes personified life's joys, great and small
Your face smiled at the world.
Your face still smiles, but like the smile painted on a doll
As absently, you brush aside a curl,
Of your carelessly ribboned locks of wavy lustrous hair
Falling in a cascade around your face.
And I see that the fire of love in your eyes, is no longer there
Vanished without a trace.
I know that, for some time you will continue to profess love
While you gently retreat,
From my life, knowing that, I have already suffered enough
While worshipping your feet.
I wonder if you will ever think about me in later years,
When another, you gently leave;
I wonder if your lovely eyes will well with reluctant tears,I
f ever, over my grave, you grieve.
Monday, July 11, 2005
A Little goat went for a climb - A poem for little goats
A Little goat went for a climb
To the top of a little hill
He climbed and he climbed
And he climbed until
He reached the top of the hill
The little goat then looked around
From the top of the little hill
He looked and he looked
And looked till he had his fill
From the top of the little hill
The little goat at last looked down
From the top of the little hill
And he gave a little cry
When he saw how high
Was the top of the little hill.
The little goat tried to get down
From the top of the little hill
But the way was steep
And he fell in a heap
Near the top of the little hill
When the little goat opened his eye
Near the top of the little hill
A little teardrop fell
And fell and fell
To the bottom of the little hill.
But when it fell with a little splash
Mother goat at the bottom of the little hill
Saw the tear fall
And at once knew all
And climbed up the little hill
And when she neared the top
She saw on the little hill
Her baby little goat
With a sob in his throat
Near the top of the little hill
Mother goat picked up little goat
Near the top of the little hill
And carried him down
To her house in the town
Far away from the little hill
So the lesson we have learned
From the goat and the little hill
Is never to stray
Through night or day
And always listen to mother’s will.
Deepak Menon
To the top of a little hill
He climbed and he climbed
And he climbed until
He reached the top of the hill
The little goat then looked around
From the top of the little hill
He looked and he looked
And looked till he had his fill
From the top of the little hill
The little goat at last looked down
From the top of the little hill
And he gave a little cry
When he saw how high
Was the top of the little hill.
The little goat tried to get down
From the top of the little hill
But the way was steep
And he fell in a heap
Near the top of the little hill
When the little goat opened his eye
Near the top of the little hill
A little teardrop fell
And fell and fell
To the bottom of the little hill.
But when it fell with a little splash
Mother goat at the bottom of the little hill
Saw the tear fall
And at once knew all
And climbed up the little hill
And when she neared the top
She saw on the little hill
Her baby little goat
With a sob in his throat
Near the top of the little hill
Mother goat picked up little goat
Near the top of the little hill
And carried him down
To her house in the town
Far away from the little hill
So the lesson we have learned
From the goat and the little hill
Is never to stray
Through night or day
And always listen to mother’s will.
Deepak Menon
Sunday, July 10, 2005
EMPIRE HILL - a poem
EMPIRE HILL
(a poem by Deepak Menon)
The battle lost , the remnants fled
Of the once proud host, gallantly led
By flamboyant officers in flashing red
Nursing wounds that profusely bled
Not long 'ere had bounded up the hill
Hearts pounding, flush'd with the thrill
Of certain victory, no thought that ill
By flamboyant officers in flashing red
Nursing wounds that profusely bled
Not long 'ere had bounded up the hill
Hearts pounding, flush'd with the thrill
Of certain victory, no thought that ill
Could befall them, of indomitable will
Almost at the summit, they heard a shout
"NOW LADS," and then, there flashed out
A wall of flame, from the silent redoubt
Almost at the summit, they heard a shout
"NOW LADS," and then, there flashed out
A wall of flame, from the silent redoubt
And then began the rout
Of the greatest army the world had known
By ragged farmers in skin and bone
Who rebelled against the British throne
To found a nation of their own
A haphazard derelict mob, of motley men
With flintlocks so old, some knew not when
they had been made, or even when
had last been used, or would function then.
They crouched behind their earthen mound
which they, overnight, had raised from the ground,
And with haggard eyes looked around
Their ears filled with the thunderous sound
Of the Redshirts charging, in full cry
Of the greatest army the world had known
By ragged farmers in skin and bone
Who rebelled against the British throne
To found a nation of their own
A haphazard derelict mob, of motley men
With flintlocks so old, some knew not when
they had been made, or even when
had last been used, or would function then.
They crouched behind their earthen mound
which they, overnight, had raised from the ground,
And with haggard eyes looked around
Their ears filled with the thunderous sound
Of the Redshirts charging, in full cry
And each thought, he'd surely die
And his body rotting there would lie
And his body rotting there would lie
Food for the vultures circling high.
For ammunition, they almost had none
No strength had they to try to run
Just one thought, into their minds was drum'd
Hold fire, and the battle is won
So there they crouched with simple faith
For ammunition, they almost had none
No strength had they to try to run
Just one thought, into their minds was drum'd
Hold fire, and the battle is won
So there they crouched with simple faith
Until t'was almost too late
For nearly upon them, crazed with hate
Loomed the enemy, invincible and great
Then suddenly they heard, the awaited shout
For nearly upon them, crazed with hate
Loomed the enemy, invincible and great
Then suddenly they heard, the awaited shout
"FIRE," and the trusty flints belched out
A sheet of death in a mighty gout
Which toss'd the British right about.
Like corks floating in a stormy sea
Shattering instantly, what used to be
The pride of the Empire's army
A sheet of death in a mighty gout
Which toss'd the British right about.
Like corks floating in a stormy sea
Shattering instantly, what used to be
The pride of the Empire's army
But the farmers still crouched wearily.
Not even knowing, they had toll'd
That day on Bunker Hill
The bell, whose chimes rolled
Not even knowing, they had toll'd
That day on Bunker Hill
The bell, whose chimes rolled
Around the world until......
THE LOSS OF EMPIRE
THE LOSS OF EMPIRE
Wednesday, July 06, 2005
SKYMERGE - A Glimpse....
CHAPTER I - (OF THE BOOK) - SKYMERGE
by Deepak Menon
Ruhan the Lute Player slowly came to consciousness. For some time, he thought that he was dead or that his soul had departed from his body - so devoid of feeling was he. The silence deafened him after the terrible cacophony of the previous seven days. Darkness covered the land so he could not see. Slowly he became aware of a long drawn out groaning, sinking into his consciousness from some infinitely remote distance. It took him a long time to realise that the sound was emanating from his own half-open mouth.
And then he became aware of pain. Pain, permeating slowly into every cell of his body - overpowering him with its intensity. Pain such as he had never dreamt could exist. He screamed uncontrollably into the darkness. Screamed again and again till he could scream no more. And lapsed into merciful unconsciousness.
Far to the East from where Ruhan lay, a huge reddish sun rose slowly over the horizon. So lethargic it was, that it took several hours to become fully visible. And it flooded the land with a blood red coverlet, as though the heavens had painted the soil red. Leafless trees stood out sparsely across the vast endless plain, brought into stark relief by the sun - - dark skeletons haloed in gold. The light of the sun was not warm. It did not make any appreciable difference to the chill, which covered the land. Yet it did contain some little warmth, which caused threads of wispy vapour to rise from pockets of water across the plains - so that very soon a light mist covered the land and marched westwards with the unveiling horizon.
Ruhan slowly came to, for the second time. The harsh red light of the rising sun revealed his body grotesquely sprawled at the top of a rocky outcrop incongruously marring the otherwise featureless plain. He groaned again and lay still. After an interminable time his mind succeeded in reasserting itself despite the intense pain in his body - and he could recall his name. Suddenly like a flash of lightning searing across his brain, he recoiled as the happenings of the previous days penetrated his consciousness and his memory hammered his mind with buffeting storms of images.
Images of a sword, thrusting into his body. Images of hands, reaching out for his, and then vanishing into the swirling waters. Of screams echoing in the darkness suddenly cut off as though with a knife. Of the raging torrents tearing his body away from the stark rock he clung to with his lacerated hands and ripped out fingernails. Images of horror, beyond human endurance.
He lapsed into unconsciousness again.
When he came to again - the Red Fury of the sun was beating down on his body from directly overhead. His skin was burning with its warmth. Groaning, he stirred and making a Herculean effort slowly sat up. His eyes opened and he looked around him. From his vantage point on the rocks, he could see all around him. There was not a soul to be seen, just a vast muddy plain. He lay back again and rested for a few moments.
When he opened his eyes the sun had shifted several degrees to the West. An agoraphobic terror filled him for an instant. He rose to his hands and knees and then to his feet. Very carefully he started climbing down from the rocks. Each movement brought waves of intense pain. Barely conscious, he at last stepped off the rocky outcrop onto the soft slush of the plain. He was faint with hunger and the ache in his stomach surpassed all the other pain he had sustained from the battering waves of the deluge. Guided by some unknown instinct he lurched away in the direction of the setting sun.
His staggering weaving walk continued for an interminable time. At last he reached the end of his tether and his body folded slowly onto the welcoming coolness of the mud.
High above in the red sky there was a flash of silver. A pair of lovely eyes scanned the plains for any sign of life as the craft flashed across the skies. The faint sound of its engines penetrated Ruhan's consciousness, as he lay like an inert log on the muddy plain. He lurched to his feet - and performed a madman's dance. Waving and croaking he leaped about frantically. He slipped and fell - came up again covered with mud. The craft continued its steady progress across the sky. Sobbing with frustration and despair he started hurling blobs of mud into the sky. Finally, exhausting the last of his little strength, he sank slowly into oblivion.
Far to the East from where Ruhan lay, a huge reddish sun rose slowly over the horizon. So lethargic it was, that it took several hours to become fully visible. And it flooded the land with a blood red coverlet, as though the heavens had painted the soil red. Leafless trees stood out sparsely across the vast endless plain, brought into stark relief by the sun - - dark skeletons haloed in gold. The light of the sun was not warm. It did not make any appreciable difference to the chill, which covered the land. Yet it did contain some little warmth, which caused threads of wispy vapour to rise from pockets of water across the plains - so that very soon a light mist covered the land and marched westwards with the unveiling horizon.
Ruhan slowly came to, for the second time. The harsh red light of the rising sun revealed his body grotesquely sprawled at the top of a rocky outcrop incongruously marring the otherwise featureless plain. He groaned again and lay still. After an interminable time his mind succeeded in reasserting itself despite the intense pain in his body - and he could recall his name. Suddenly like a flash of lightning searing across his brain, he recoiled as the happenings of the previous days penetrated his consciousness and his memory hammered his mind with buffeting storms of images.
Images of a sword, thrusting into his body. Images of hands, reaching out for his, and then vanishing into the swirling waters. Of screams echoing in the darkness suddenly cut off as though with a knife. Of the raging torrents tearing his body away from the stark rock he clung to with his lacerated hands and ripped out fingernails. Images of horror, beyond human endurance.
He lapsed into unconsciousness again.
When he came to again - the Red Fury of the sun was beating down on his body from directly overhead. His skin was burning with its warmth. Groaning, he stirred and making a Herculean effort slowly sat up. His eyes opened and he looked around him. From his vantage point on the rocks, he could see all around him. There was not a soul to be seen, just a vast muddy plain. He lay back again and rested for a few moments.
When he opened his eyes the sun had shifted several degrees to the West. An agoraphobic terror filled him for an instant. He rose to his hands and knees and then to his feet. Very carefully he started climbing down from the rocks. Each movement brought waves of intense pain. Barely conscious, he at last stepped off the rocky outcrop onto the soft slush of the plain. He was faint with hunger and the ache in his stomach surpassed all the other pain he had sustained from the battering waves of the deluge. Guided by some unknown instinct he lurched away in the direction of the setting sun.
His staggering weaving walk continued for an interminable time. At last he reached the end of his tether and his body folded slowly onto the welcoming coolness of the mud.
High above in the red sky there was a flash of silver. A pair of lovely eyes scanned the plains for any sign of life as the craft flashed across the skies. The faint sound of its engines penetrated Ruhan's consciousness, as he lay like an inert log on the muddy plain. He lurched to his feet - and performed a madman's dance. Waving and croaking he leaped about frantically. He slipped and fell - came up again covered with mud. The craft continued its steady progress across the sky. Sobbing with frustration and despair he started hurling blobs of mud into the sky. Finally, exhausting the last of his little strength, he sank slowly into oblivion.
And the one in the craft detected a flicker of movement on the computer screen.
Thursday, June 30, 2005
The Tulsi Plant
An Engraving of Devotion
Devotion lies in the eye of the beholder!
We all know that Indian Women are devoted.
What we did'nt know was that they are devoted
to the Tulsi Plant!!!
And the woman in the Picture is not only devoted
She is an engraved woman on a metal sheet!!
.jpg)
Devotion lies in the eye of the beholder!
We all know that Indian Women are devoted.
What we did'nt know was that they are devoted
to the Tulsi Plant!!!
And the woman in the Picture is not only devoted
She is an engraved woman on a metal sheet!!
Wednesday, June 29, 2005
A thought - Deepak Menon
A VERSE IN HINDI
TRANSCRIBED INTO ENGLISH
TRANSCRIBED INTO ENGLISH
Aapki aawaz ko sunne ke liye hum taras gaye
Par hawaon mein aapke lavz door tak bikhar gaye
Kya zindagi mein ulfat ka hai yehi hansil
Ke paas aate aate, aap Sarai se guzar gaye.
I yearned intensely your voice to hear
But winds scattered your words to distant shores
Is the ultimate paradise of life just this
That coming nearer - you passed this oasis?
Somehow the ethos of the original verse
is distorted - will some one try to find a better
translation or translate it into something better?
Deepak Menon
Par hawaon mein aapke lavz door tak bikhar gaye
Kya zindagi mein ulfat ka hai yehi hansil
Ke paas aate aate, aap Sarai se guzar gaye.
I yearned intensely your voice to hear
But winds scattered your words to distant shores
Is the ultimate paradise of life just this
That coming nearer - you passed this oasis?
Somehow the ethos of the original verse
is distorted - will some one try to find a better
translation or translate it into something better?
Deepak Menon
Saturday, June 25, 2005
My Kingdom - A painting by Deepak Menon
Kingdoms are not always in our imaginations
- at times they have a tangible and breathtaking
vista before our eyes.
Beauty lies in the eye of the beholder -
just as Rose is beautiful to the Rainbow -
the Rainbow is also beautiful to the Rose.
Thursday, June 09, 2005
THE RETURN OF ULFA I - An eyeopener
THE RETURN OF ULFA I
(Prelude to the Book)
(If and ever I manage to complete it)
by
(If and ever I manage to complete it)
by
Deepak Menon
Lord Gotrial Ulanob was annoyed. He had paced restlessly up and down the rather cramped quarterdeck of the Royal Flag Spacer 'Intumescent', the entire afternoon, waiting for word that the cruiser ULFA 1 had arrived. However there was no trace of ULFA 1.
ULFA I had been dispatched by him against the advise of the despised Commander of the fleet Admiral Baron Muchalest who as usual had, merely left the decision to Ulanob. Ulanob had worked as Muchalest's adjutant many years ago and he knew his style of functioning. He knew that Muchalest must already have two messages ready with the radio operator. In case the Ulfa I returned, the first message would be sent to the Council describing his brilliant strategy in excruciatingly shameless detail. In case the Ulfa I did not return, there would be a message to Ulanob advising him to attend a court of inquiry the following day. Yes, Ulanob had reason to be annoyed.
And with the Ulfa I already several hours overdue, Ulanob knew that he had to have a plausible explanation ready within the next few hours, or else he would have to pay. He stopped his pacing and walked to the desk. Sitting down on the contoured chair, he picked up a pen and started writing.
1. Fleet emerged from hyperspace.
2. Operators immediately picked out strong signals of intelligent radio activity from a small planet barely 15 light minutes away.
3. Ulanob informed Muchalest and sought instructions
4. Muchalest does not reply for three days
5. Defeated at his own game, Ulanob sent a suggestion that a cruiser be sent to scout out the planet.
6. Muchalest while conveying his 'reservations' about the suggestion 'reluctantly' advised Ulanob to do as he thought best since he was the Battle commander of the fleet. Muchalest did not mention that he has the power to veto any move made by Ulanob.
7. Ulanob dispatched Ulfa I to approach within a light minute of the target and submit its report.
8. Ulfa I (the latest and only craft of its kind in the entire fleet) activated its "invisibility field" and vanished from all screens.
9. 15 days ago.
10. The loss of the only prototype of its kind would result in Ulanob being drummed out of the forces.
After a long pause, Ulanob took a decision. He asked the operator to send a hyperbeam tracer message to Ulfa I. He knew that within a few moments he would receive a severe reprimand from Muchalest for breaking radio silence - The cardinal and unforgivable crime in an inhabited alien galaxy. But then, he did not have much to lose.
The signal sent, without waiting for Muchalest's reprimand, he sent a curt report to the Admiral, adding that in his opinion they should wait for another few days. The expected reprimand was received almost simultaneously on the same frequency and with the weakest signal possible. Muchalest had given him three days and only three days. And Ulanob could do nothing but wait, since his orders forbade him to come into any contact with any alien species on pain of death. His job was to chart that part of the Galaxy and that was all. He went to his chamber, took a somno and fell into a deep sleep.
The Ulfa1 commanded by young Captain Julo, the son of His Most Exhalted Right Royal Regent Of The Universe The High Lordship Hintomeer Regalda Rubuo Finko, was overjoyed when Ulanob had succumbed to his veiled threats of drawing Ulanob's over caution (cowardice) to the attention of His Most Exhalted Right Royal Regent Of The Universe The High Lordship Hintomeer Regalda Rubuo Finko, (we shall refer to him as Finko in future). Young Julo treated the whole thing as a simulation game where he had the finest ship in the universe, and all others were moronic hoodas (barbarians).
Thee days after he left the fleet, the Ulfa I was in orbit around the planet. Within a few hours, Juno's team of scientists had determined that the inhabitants of the planet had developed a primitive level of technology. They had mastered space flight but at speeds, which were a mere crawl. They had numerous satellites in orbit, one of which indicated alien activity. It was this satellite that Julo was particularly interested in. He knew that he was forbidden from making contact, but the chance of capturing a member of a new alien species was too good to be lost. After he would easily get around his father (Finko), as he always had since childhood.
Secure in the knowledge that the Ulfa I was invisible, he boldly directed the pilot to take the craft right up to within a few feet of the satellite, and match orbits. Every monitoring instrument within the Ulfa I was now directed to the satellite. The metal which it was made of; the interior design of the satellite; the electrical circuits; the composition of the atmosphere within; the composition of the bodies of the aliens within; all these and many more analysis' were pressed into service. The team of scientists crouched over their instruments and screens, screening, analyzing and compiling the voluminous outputs. Julo in the meanwhile, when not playing his favorite computer stimulated space war games, slept peacefully.
The Space Station Horus - Commander Tom Jones of the Joint Venture International Space Station Horus, shook his head in exasperation. His crew consisting of Commanders Romesh Bannerjee of India, A.V.Pukov of Russia, Glenda Bedder of the United Kingdom, Jacob Getz of Israel and Joan Arc of France, sat around the spacious main control room. Jones peered once again over the shoulder of the only technician on board, M. Kalam of Pakistan. Kalam was in the process of screwing back the front panel of the large control cabinet which housed all the intricate instruments used by them to monitor ambient radiation, solar emissions, neutrino and X Ray emissions etc. His task completed, he threw the main power switch - and the same distorted picture appeared on all the screens.
"Well?' questioned Jones.
"There has to be something wrong outside the satellite, Commander" said Kalam. "Maybe the antenna's power array has developed some snag. We'll have to go out and see".
"I'll back you up", said Jones, taking a decision. " We'll go right away".
A scant hour later, the upper hatch on the side of the Satellite facing away from the Earth opened, and Jones' clumsy figure climbed out of the Air Lock. Securing his safety line to the sprocket just outside the hatch, he looked up. For a moment he stared in stunned amazement. Then his mouth fell open and he had an uncontrollable urge to rub his eyes.
Not a hundred feet away, motionless relative to the satellite, floated a gigantic golden colored teardrop, many times larger than the space station.
At length, he looked back towards the hatch and saw the upper half of Kalam's body motionless with gaze fixed on the teardrop.
Jones flipped the transmission switch, and after a moments pause to gather his wits about him, he drawled " We'el what's that thar we see ".
Kalam's high-pitched voice replied almost simultaneously " It's not real commander .. We must be seeing a mirage ".
"Get back into the ship and tell me what how the computer analyses it. I'm waiting here. " Said Jones.
Kalam scrambled back into the airlock and pressed the lever to shut the hatch. Even before the inner lock had opened he was already out of his helmet. Frantically unzipping his suit, he scrambled awkwardly into the control room where the others were on their feet, having heard the exchange between the two. Pukov was already on the transmitter trying to contact Earth Command, but with no success. The same interference that had disrupted their communications over the past several hours continued. They were effectively cut off from the world.
Kalam lurched to the console, shedding his suit like a snake molting, and directed the cameras outside towards the 'Teardrop'. His consternation was complete when he saw that no image appeared on the screen, save the previous distortions. Outside the station, Jones, by now having recovered his composure to some extent, studied the strange object minutely. There was no doubt about it. It was artificial and made from some sort of alloy with a golden hue.
Kalam's voice suddenly interrupted his thoughts. " Skipper - there is nothing on the screens - the cameras are not picking up the image at all!"
Jones had already known that by now. His mind had analyzed the strange phenomenon and the sudden flickering out of television transmission in the craft - and he had no doubt that the Teardrop was responsible. And the Horus was entirely unarmed. The question now was - what was to be done. The intentions of the Teardrop were also not clear to him. They could be hostile - cutting of the Horus' communications. But conversely the interest in the Horus could also be merely academic - several hours had passed since the Horus' had developed the problem - and the Teardrop had not made any other hostile move. On an impulse Jones hurled his heavy torch towards the Teardrop. He immediately regretted the impulse, but it was too late.
The torch sailed lazily towards the Teardrop. Jones eyes remained riveted on it. And then he shook his head in bewilderment. The torch sailed through the skin of the Teardrop and vanished. There was no impact. It was as if it had been swallowed up without a ripple. The Teardrop remained suspended motionless. Jones slowly climbed back into the airlock.
The Ulfa I - The clang of Jones' heavy torch hitting the metal hull of the Ulfa I, reverberated through the craft. Julo leaped out of his bunk as though he had been shot out of it. He raced to the main control room. The panel of scientists there looked at him in silence.
"What was that?" Gasped Julo. The lookout on visual watch came uo to him and reported. " Two aliens came out of the Craft, Sir". One of them threw a large cylindrical object at us. The sound you heard was the object striking the Hull".
For a moment Julo was speechless. Then he roared " How can that be possible ? No one can see us! "
"Well, apparently that's what we thought, Sir" said the lookout. " I saw the whole thing myself. The first alien stared at us for a long time. Finally he threw the cylindrical object straight at the center of the craft. It was no coincidence. The alien aimed at us. And the object he threw was some sort of a light-emitting device, probably a tool. Not a weapon. One of the mini-drones picked it up.
Lord Gotrial Ulanob was annoyed. He had paced restlessly up and down the rather cramped quarterdeck of the Royal Flag Spacer 'Intumescent', the entire afternoon, waiting for word that the cruiser ULFA 1 had arrived. However there was no trace of ULFA 1.
ULFA I had been dispatched by him against the advise of the despised Commander of the fleet Admiral Baron Muchalest who as usual had, merely left the decision to Ulanob. Ulanob had worked as Muchalest's adjutant many years ago and he knew his style of functioning. He knew that Muchalest must already have two messages ready with the radio operator. In case the Ulfa I returned, the first message would be sent to the Council describing his brilliant strategy in excruciatingly shameless detail. In case the Ulfa I did not return, there would be a message to Ulanob advising him to attend a court of inquiry the following day. Yes, Ulanob had reason to be annoyed.
And with the Ulfa I already several hours overdue, Ulanob knew that he had to have a plausible explanation ready within the next few hours, or else he would have to pay. He stopped his pacing and walked to the desk. Sitting down on the contoured chair, he picked up a pen and started writing.
1. Fleet emerged from hyperspace.
2. Operators immediately picked out strong signals of intelligent radio activity from a small planet barely 15 light minutes away.
3. Ulanob informed Muchalest and sought instructions
4. Muchalest does not reply for three days
5. Defeated at his own game, Ulanob sent a suggestion that a cruiser be sent to scout out the planet.
6. Muchalest while conveying his 'reservations' about the suggestion 'reluctantly' advised Ulanob to do as he thought best since he was the Battle commander of the fleet. Muchalest did not mention that he has the power to veto any move made by Ulanob.
7. Ulanob dispatched Ulfa I to approach within a light minute of the target and submit its report.
8. Ulfa I (the latest and only craft of its kind in the entire fleet) activated its "invisibility field" and vanished from all screens.
9. 15 days ago.
10. The loss of the only prototype of its kind would result in Ulanob being drummed out of the forces.
After a long pause, Ulanob took a decision. He asked the operator to send a hyperbeam tracer message to Ulfa I. He knew that within a few moments he would receive a severe reprimand from Muchalest for breaking radio silence - The cardinal and unforgivable crime in an inhabited alien galaxy. But then, he did not have much to lose.
The signal sent, without waiting for Muchalest's reprimand, he sent a curt report to the Admiral, adding that in his opinion they should wait for another few days. The expected reprimand was received almost simultaneously on the same frequency and with the weakest signal possible. Muchalest had given him three days and only three days. And Ulanob could do nothing but wait, since his orders forbade him to come into any contact with any alien species on pain of death. His job was to chart that part of the Galaxy and that was all. He went to his chamber, took a somno and fell into a deep sleep.
The Ulfa1 commanded by young Captain Julo, the son of His Most Exhalted Right Royal Regent Of The Universe The High Lordship Hintomeer Regalda Rubuo Finko, was overjoyed when Ulanob had succumbed to his veiled threats of drawing Ulanob's over caution (cowardice) to the attention of His Most Exhalted Right Royal Regent Of The Universe The High Lordship Hintomeer Regalda Rubuo Finko, (we shall refer to him as Finko in future). Young Julo treated the whole thing as a simulation game where he had the finest ship in the universe, and all others were moronic hoodas (barbarians).
Thee days after he left the fleet, the Ulfa I was in orbit around the planet. Within a few hours, Juno's team of scientists had determined that the inhabitants of the planet had developed a primitive level of technology. They had mastered space flight but at speeds, which were a mere crawl. They had numerous satellites in orbit, one of which indicated alien activity. It was this satellite that Julo was particularly interested in. He knew that he was forbidden from making contact, but the chance of capturing a member of a new alien species was too good to be lost. After he would easily get around his father (Finko), as he always had since childhood.
Secure in the knowledge that the Ulfa I was invisible, he boldly directed the pilot to take the craft right up to within a few feet of the satellite, and match orbits. Every monitoring instrument within the Ulfa I was now directed to the satellite. The metal which it was made of; the interior design of the satellite; the electrical circuits; the composition of the atmosphere within; the composition of the bodies of the aliens within; all these and many more analysis' were pressed into service. The team of scientists crouched over their instruments and screens, screening, analyzing and compiling the voluminous outputs. Julo in the meanwhile, when not playing his favorite computer stimulated space war games, slept peacefully.
The Space Station Horus - Commander Tom Jones of the Joint Venture International Space Station Horus, shook his head in exasperation. His crew consisting of Commanders Romesh Bannerjee of India, A.V.Pukov of Russia, Glenda Bedder of the United Kingdom, Jacob Getz of Israel and Joan Arc of France, sat around the spacious main control room. Jones peered once again over the shoulder of the only technician on board, M. Kalam of Pakistan. Kalam was in the process of screwing back the front panel of the large control cabinet which housed all the intricate instruments used by them to monitor ambient radiation, solar emissions, neutrino and X Ray emissions etc. His task completed, he threw the main power switch - and the same distorted picture appeared on all the screens.
"Well?' questioned Jones.
"There has to be something wrong outside the satellite, Commander" said Kalam. "Maybe the antenna's power array has developed some snag. We'll have to go out and see".
"I'll back you up", said Jones, taking a decision. " We'll go right away".
A scant hour later, the upper hatch on the side of the Satellite facing away from the Earth opened, and Jones' clumsy figure climbed out of the Air Lock. Securing his safety line to the sprocket just outside the hatch, he looked up. For a moment he stared in stunned amazement. Then his mouth fell open and he had an uncontrollable urge to rub his eyes.
Not a hundred feet away, motionless relative to the satellite, floated a gigantic golden colored teardrop, many times larger than the space station.
At length, he looked back towards the hatch and saw the upper half of Kalam's body motionless with gaze fixed on the teardrop.
Jones flipped the transmission switch, and after a moments pause to gather his wits about him, he drawled " We'el what's that thar we see ".
Kalam's high-pitched voice replied almost simultaneously " It's not real commander .. We must be seeing a mirage ".
"Get back into the ship and tell me what how the computer analyses it. I'm waiting here. " Said Jones.
Kalam scrambled back into the airlock and pressed the lever to shut the hatch. Even before the inner lock had opened he was already out of his helmet. Frantically unzipping his suit, he scrambled awkwardly into the control room where the others were on their feet, having heard the exchange between the two. Pukov was already on the transmitter trying to contact Earth Command, but with no success. The same interference that had disrupted their communications over the past several hours continued. They were effectively cut off from the world.
Kalam lurched to the console, shedding his suit like a snake molting, and directed the cameras outside towards the 'Teardrop'. His consternation was complete when he saw that no image appeared on the screen, save the previous distortions. Outside the station, Jones, by now having recovered his composure to some extent, studied the strange object minutely. There was no doubt about it. It was artificial and made from some sort of alloy with a golden hue.
Kalam's voice suddenly interrupted his thoughts. " Skipper - there is nothing on the screens - the cameras are not picking up the image at all!"
Jones had already known that by now. His mind had analyzed the strange phenomenon and the sudden flickering out of television transmission in the craft - and he had no doubt that the Teardrop was responsible. And the Horus was entirely unarmed. The question now was - what was to be done. The intentions of the Teardrop were also not clear to him. They could be hostile - cutting of the Horus' communications. But conversely the interest in the Horus could also be merely academic - several hours had passed since the Horus' had developed the problem - and the Teardrop had not made any other hostile move. On an impulse Jones hurled his heavy torch towards the Teardrop. He immediately regretted the impulse, but it was too late.
The torch sailed lazily towards the Teardrop. Jones eyes remained riveted on it. And then he shook his head in bewilderment. The torch sailed through the skin of the Teardrop and vanished. There was no impact. It was as if it had been swallowed up without a ripple. The Teardrop remained suspended motionless. Jones slowly climbed back into the airlock.
The Ulfa I - The clang of Jones' heavy torch hitting the metal hull of the Ulfa I, reverberated through the craft. Julo leaped out of his bunk as though he had been shot out of it. He raced to the main control room. The panel of scientists there looked at him in silence.
"What was that?" Gasped Julo. The lookout on visual watch came uo to him and reported. " Two aliens came out of the Craft, Sir". One of them threw a large cylindrical object at us. The sound you heard was the object striking the Hull".
For a moment Julo was speechless. Then he roared " How can that be possible ? No one can see us! "
"Well, apparently that's what we thought, Sir" said the lookout. " I saw the whole thing myself. The first alien stared at us for a long time. Finally he threw the cylindrical object straight at the center of the craft. It was no coincidence. The alien aimed at us. And the object he threw was some sort of a light-emitting device, probably a tool. Not a weapon. One of the mini-drones picked it up.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)