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| Choppy night sea (pastels on paper) |
Prologue:
The events in this story transpire in 3098 A.D when Earth was one of the most happening planets in the universe. It was inhabited by an assortment of humans, namely:
1) Designers: Human beings who are made to order. The egg and sperm are fused outside the human body and when the zygote is formed, a single cell is isolated before the blastocyst or eight celled stage. The genes are then tailored-cut and paste fashion, depending on the requirements for the color of hair, eyes, structure, intelligence, susceptibility to diseases...etc.
2) Cyborgs: Cyber-organisms. They get connected to computers of varied capacities and thus enhance their capabilities. They can move objects or limbs, talk, work with computers just thinking about the chore!
3) Clones: Creating a spitting image of oneself from any cell of the body. The ‘twin’ is chronologically younger and has ‘inherited’ all the genes, right to that small aberration of character, tic or stream of thoughts or style of walk!
4) Chimera: A genetic cross between human beings and other animals. Couple the tiger’s limb power into the human genome and you have the fastest two feet runner in Universe...Can use plants too...Permutations and combinations are mind boggling.
***********************************************************************
It was another glorious, environmentally perfect Earth day in mid-April. Those who had corporeal obligations were teleporting in as Janardhan Shanker Rao walked through the outer door. Dr. Bhagat Singh Mandela got off the teleporter-pad. Wiggling and jerking to realign himself, he strode towards Rao.
“Hi Ya, Jhonny!” He waved. Janardhan Shanker Rao (aka Jhonny or Rao), as ever was confused. Which of the three was this one? However, he housed a shrewd brain that belied his unassuming exterior. He always had a fool-proof scheme.
“Jai Ram Ji ki, sir,” he said.
“Oh, Yes! Jai Ram Ji ki, indeed!” Dr. Mandela replied bemusedly. Yes! This was the oldest of the three. However, even at ninety three, he did not look a day older than his two clone sons, sixty year old Rabindranath Dey or forty year old Dr. Pururava Pandey. The former would have said, “Oh Jhonny, stop being a yokel. Wish back as you are wished.” The youngest was the most caustic of all. “You yokels! Go and live your lives with Ram and Sita! Have you no shame? Wallowing in bygone eras and hampering progression of any sort?” For which poor Jhonny was expected to grin and bear it good naturedly.
“Got a case sir?” Dr. Mandela was a renowned brain surgeon who had many live, microscopic and tele-surgeries to his credit.
“Yeah. I cannot hazard multiple teleports to places several thousand miles away-risks have been proved.. So, I got them to transfer the patient so that I can do a live. ” He was very health conscious. He was a generation senior to Janardhan’s father who had served him. A confirmed bachelor, he was requested by the authorities to get cloned twice-thankfully the maximum number of clones allowed legally. The System did not wish to be dispossessed of the dexterity of his fingers after his demise. So his sons, Rabindranath Dey, was in the Medical Resolution And Imaging Department. He was a Miniature systems specialist, designing diagnostic micro-cameras, extremely pliable and as small as seven microns, which could easily navigate within the body, especially the eyes and tiny blood vessels of all the organs. The second clone, Dr. Pururava Pandey was a renowned microvascular surgeon whose surgical skills were unparalleled on that part of the earth.
“Oh, Jhonny... Sorry about the proposed bill. Your dad would’ve been heart broken. Ironic that this-death-offers an instant, permanent solution to many complications of your community.” Dr. Mandela’s slur on the word death, though unintentional, seemed to emphasize on the very concept which was soon to become obsolete if the bill came through.
“True, Sir.” They parted ways at the vestibule. Janardhan Shanker Rao entered his un-flattering office- ‘Department of Patient Behavioral Studies.’ It was a one room-one man office signifying the importance, or in fact the lack of it, in current circumstances. The matter of patients-studies was so vast and vague, that it was left to his discretion to choose the topics and prepare reports. It was seldom that he got a request from anyone for any particular type of statistics.
He sat at his desk and unfolded his hankyputer, erecting it in transparent mode that allowed him to keep an eye on anyone entering through the door. Even then it stuck out in mid-air like an eye-sore! People guffawed at such contraptions. The Cyborgs, obviously, needed no interfaces, and the other moderns had Interface-free-amphibians.( They got the information literally out of thin air or water or on any solid surface and now even in ether when on space flights!) His poor throwback hankyputer of course was suited only for throwbacks like him!
Tears welled up as he once again thought of his father. Dubbed orthodox even for keeping a bound book diary with real paper, the old man had stood steadfast by the ideals that his forefathers had instilled in him. Rao was expected to do the same. He got up and took out the diary, now pages stained yellow. It had always been Rao’s reference volume. With nothing much to do, he opened the book at random and reread the contents.
“Date-27/10/3087
Here is a draft of the letter I dispatched to the ‘Earth Inhabitation and Taxonomy Council.’ (EITC)
Homo Sapiens sapiens is a woefully insufficient nomenclature for the current human inhabitants of the earth. It raises confusion over the original right inheritors of Earth and her resources. It seems only natural that the genuine species that has evolved over thousands of centuries should stake claim to the prime nomenclature. Sub sub species that have evolved may, in a few decades, start pushing for a different recognition, nomenclature and hence rights. It is sane that the Authorities on Human Rights, Inhabitation and Taxonomy should take the initial step to avoid embarrassment and future wide spread civil wars.
When Darwin proposed his Theory of Evolution, he propounded it to be a gradual phenomenon. Never had he envisaged the branch of genetics and its potentials, or that the eternal, slow process of evolution could be hastened, as it is being now as never before.
Today we have ‘evolved’ designer human beings, cyborgs and clones. Thankfully, the Federal Government has had the good sense to put a hold on Chimeras. These higher beings are undoubtedly of a far better mental and physical caliber than any of the ‘unsullied’ human beings can ever hope to achieve. So, as is obvious, the different and diverse clans of people- the Moderns- that have emerged have consequently pushed us, the ‘unsullied’ original creations to the bottom rung of the society.
Those of us, Originals, who have chosen to procreate naturally, live our destined life span, suffer the usual diseases and old age, and not interfere with our selves- either genetically at conception or after fifteen with DNA/chip implants, have hence been relegated to a useless, almost ignored existence. Providing us reservations in work places and institutions has only compounded the matter by further segregating us as inferiors.
Hence we urge upon the Federal Government and The Universal Human Rights Body to acknowledge the existence of several sub species of humanoids. As the Chairperson of ‘The Association of The Originals,” I propose the following:
The original humans; like us, who have naturally evolved over centuries and have chosen to retain our genetic material; we inherit the original nomenclature of Homo Sapiens sapiens.
The designer humanoids, who have chosen to alter their genes to perfection be called Homo Sapiens sapiens-configure`
The cyborgs with various bodily implants be called, Homo Sapiens sapiens-contrivance`.
The clones be called Homo Sapiens sapiens-counterparte`.”
Janardhan Shanker Rao looked up at the date again. It was eight years before his father had died fighting this battle. Were he alive today, he would have been heart broken to know that not only were his proposals gaffed at, but the Universal Body had just agreed on a resolution that, if made into a law, would quietly decimate the Original population! Survival of the Fittest-only that Darwinian concept had survived the onslaught of these people and maddening times.
He looked up as Martina Theresa entered the room. She was a designer and needless to say, had the most perfect body anyone could ever imagine. The number of shiny golden scalp hair per sq cm., the depth of her lovely dimples, the bi-chromic irii, the degree of whiteness and the dimensions of every single teeth, her nails, susceptibility to diseases, length of intestines....every thing in her had been programmed to perfection. Five thousand years ago, they would have worshipped her as a goddess.
His breath choked in mid throat. She appeared to be floating towards him as some ethereal angel and at once her attire was that of a celestial being’s-white flowing robes, a dazzling tiara and smile to match. He shook his head and came back to his senses. Now she looked more humane, clad in a light blue sheer sari with an off shoulder sequined blouse, dangling diamond earrings and a choker to match, a large red bindi adorning her beautiful forehead, auburn thick hair caught in a band. Her characteristic perfume floated ahead of her as Janardhan Rao smiled and said-“What are you really wearing today?”
“The same as ever-Slacks and T-shirt.”
“Correction-Visually Metamorphosing Slacks and T-shirt,” he chided.
“Yes. Is anything wrong?” She loved to wear those VMs. It took away the tension of wondering if she was correctly dressed for the occasion or the person. Visually metamorphosing attire worked on the brain waves emitted by the viewer. The VM dresses caught the preferences of the brain from which they were emerging and accordingly, would send off corresponding signals, so that the dress and eventually the wearer would appear just as the viewer wished to see the person! So Martina appeared to be dressed in a hospital coat to the patient, in a sexy skirt to her lover, in a skimpy bikini to a wanderer’s eyes and now to old fashioned Janardhan Rao, in the old fashioned sari! And for her wearing comfort, she could get away with wearing anything she wanted!
However, Janardhan Rao knew that this was a subtle technique to cajole and mollify an opponent before a mental duel. Martina was the Chief Executive Officer of the Department of Human Reproduction and it was no co-incidence that she happened to pass by his unit for the second time that fortnight. He knew she was here to push the Federal Government Policy to the originals. The powers that were, were serious about the bill being passed in the coming governmental session and they needed the unanimous yes votes of the all the originals. The Originals were being met and talked to by one of the higher ups. Their aim was conversion and the unveiled threat was Do or die!
“How’s your wife, Sharada?”
“Fine. And waiting.” Janardhan Rao could not wait to hear what message they had dispatched for him.
“I’m not sure she should wait any longer.”
“And why not? Are they officially going to prohibit us?”
“You know they won’t. Look, Jhonny. I am an originals sympathizer. But when it comes to reproducing, I’m not with you guys.”
“Martina, my grand father and father were also of the post Yokel Era. They were allowed to reproduce. Why not us?”
“You know it as well as I do. Reproducing new off springs will not be acceptable once the Life Eluting bill is passed.” Janardhan winced at such blasphemy. She continued, “Jhonny, why can’t you people see the logic behind the whole thing? If newer technologies continue to increase the health, quality of life and the life spans of the existing people on Earth, all the while when new babies are being continually given birth to, won’t our earth be burgeoning at its seams within a few years?”
“This was the argument from times immemorial. But we know nothing like that ever happened. Nature took care always.”
“Not any more. Nature is us now. Think of the wonderful innovation of eluting the Life Essence from a body. The process has now been completely understood and practiced to perfection...... Live a body for two hundred years and eventually, when bored of it, get that Life Essence eluted and then have it infused into a brand new genetically designed one. This way, ultimately, the total number of Life Essences on Earth will remain the same. No one will ever die!”
Eluting Life had indeed redefined the meanings of death, Karma, rebirth; ultimately relegating God to just someone who had learnt the tricks earlier!
“That’s tempting.”
“It sure is. But if you originals prefer to reproduce by the conventional methods, it is bound to hamper the project.”
‘How?” Rao asked mechanically though he was certain what she would say.
‘Jhonny, conceiving a baby through conventional sex means a 5-6% chance of minor congenital malformations (birth defects) and a 2-3% of major congenital malformations. Couple this scenario with the insistence of your community refusing any sort of genetic or chip interventions. It means you originals will remain a minority, continuing to produce imperfect beings. The tolerance levels of the future generations will move south ward and one day you may find yourselves segregated totally. The likes of Minister Gowda will seize the earliest opportunity to reclassify you all!”
Minister Gowda, a cyborg, was Rao’s father’s arch antagonist. His statement that the Originals were only a little more evolved than domestic pets had created a furor. He had refused to apologize and with all the intended support made to appear unintentional, he had become more powerful. It was rumored that he would indeed ask for the Originals to be reclassified as human animals! A huge lump welled up in Rao’s miserable throat.
“Is this the end for us?”
“Not if you don’t want.” Martina was now getting the upper hand in the conversation. She felt she could accomplish what she was meant to today. “Look at Vasudev Shastri. He was a rebel from your faction. What a success story he has been!”
Vasudev Shastri was a distant relative of Rao. His ancestors were orthodox and he was conceived the natural way. He was born blind. After much deliberation, the family relented when he was twelve. He received a screen implant in his occipital cortex and a nano camera on his forehead. He could see from the minute the surgeries were completed. It not only transformed him but made him a bitter critic and enemy of the Originals. He disowned his family for procreating him naturally and threatened to sue them for letting him suffer in darkness for twelve desolate years. He subjected himself to several more advanced implants and competed with the designers and clones to achieve top position in the Federal Government. Today he was a staunch supporter of the Life Eluting Bill and was bent on annihilating the originals.
‘True. But all the success that we originals have so far achieved is unsullied. Even the intelligence to interfere and manipulate genes, and to create cyborgs, all came from the Originals initially, didn’t it?. All those accomplishments and many more came naturally along the process of evolution. No genetic tampering at the right place for better physical and mental qualities, no memory enhancing or logic mastering implants, no longevity enhancing contraptions.... In all fairness, we are the true inhabitants of the Earth.”
‘Shh...softly, Jhonny. People around will take very violently to what you are saying. Human beings were meant to evolve and better their species. There is no going backwards or stagnating. Don’t you realize that the very attributes that you are so proud of, are also your liabilities? Physically-imperfect, mentally short of that excellence....Even if Darwin’s species selection were in force today, your tribe would be long extinct.”
“No. The superior ones are hastening the process.” She ignored his remarks and continued.
“Think in the broader perspective. Inter-galactic and inter-stellar interactions have increased tremendously and to have any authority in Universal Decision making, we have to be a superior, perfect race. We cannot allow aliens to get the upper hand of us.” Rao believed they already had-the humanoid aliens were everywhere.
“So.....this in indeed serious? Our application for conceiving has been rejected-We will not be allowed to procreate. Is that the message?” Now was the time to tell him.
“I’m afraid, yes. That or the designer baby. Think about it.” Rao had visions of his wife wistfully looking at baby photos, hoping for a favorable verdict. Both of them were getting older and that just increased the chances of congenital malformations.
“I will,” he said though he had already made up his mind to cajole his wife out of the baby idea. As Martina left the room she appeared to be clad in a hideous black cloak with a hood and a broom at her waist to complete the uniform.
This was it then. The final few generations of the original inhabitants of the Earth. Decimated not by any alien forces or calamities of Nature as people believed and predicted would be, but by their own better endowed brethren! What began as advancement in DNA- Nano biotechnology, in the late 20th Century had snowballed into a technology boom and by the 25th century, with the liberalization of laws for genetic laboratories, designer babies were introduced into the population. So were the clones. The cyborgs who were already there for a few hundred years were also legalized and granted citizen status. That began the downfall of the originals and after the next four hundred years, i.e. after 3000 A.D, it was unanimously decided to rename the future as the Post Yokel Era. Rao was the third generation of post yokel era, facing extinction already. It was not the first time in human history that it was man VS man, but it was the first time when the presumed winner was already calling the shots.
He tried to go back to his work. He was working on an insignificant piece of statistics. In fact, the machines provided all the important information that was necessary and even suggested the future plan of action. But he had to be given something to do and that was the most painful part. He was given to work out statistics that the computer had too insufficient data for or which was anyway unimportant. Sadly he realized that this was the type of jobs the Originals were entrusted the Earth over. An IQ of 140+ was insufficient for even a mediocre job in this evolved society!
‘Co-incidental Signs and Symptoms in Routine Out-Patients” was the inconsequential statistics he was working on. He had to identify any other associated complaints by the patient or findings by the doctor which was not directly related to their presenting complaints, but was routinely picked up. He idly wondered who would ever be interested in such inconsequential statistics of the past eight months. But he had to do something in his office..... Live and bear this life its full span before dying without progeny.....
As he continued to stare at the screen, some semblance of sequence caught his attention. He waded through tables and conclusions of several statistical data before putting together the first collage of information. It was too sketchy and after two days of twelve hours each, he came up with his first observation.
The Co-incidental symptoms (patient’s complaints)---- transient loss of past memories, periods of confusion, obsessive thoughts, dejavu’—insignificant symptoms, elicited routinely when often the patients had come in an emergency such as an accident , a heart attack , a burst aneurysm...The symptoms had been recorded but in view of the larger emergency, had been overlooked. So also were the signs (what doctors record on examination) - grade 4 power of limbs (mild weakness), ‘? Expressive aphasia’ an entry said. It meant that the patient could speak fluently but not write. The examining doctor had attributed it to the tension and trauma of the accident. And so the observations went.
Rao put the two together and after a detailed study of over 25 such cases he was convinced that the patients who had presented as some sort of an emergency had indeed an underlying subtle disorder which was being missed in the circumstances. He needed to trace all the patients and ask them to go back to their doctors for another routine examination.
And as he began compiling the patients’ profiles, the fact hit him. One by one, down and across the list his finger went, stopping at the end, jaw dropped and heart thudding. Almost all the patients on his list were designers. He had compiled eight hundred and one cases, and 792 were designers! The other 1.1% were either cyborgs or clones who had some genetic manipulations on them! He had a hunch. Hunch! That strange feeling that these synthetic beings could never fathom. A hunch or intuition was the prerogative of the originals.
Rao followed that hunch and established contact with his friend, Amitabh Rafi.
“Hi Rao! What is it?” Rafi who lived two thousand miles away was now virtually seated before Rao. He was a very techno savvy cyborg and continuously added gadgets and chips and so was connected to every computer on Earth and it was rumored that he had connections in outer space too.
“I need your services.”
“Do your bidding.”
“Here’s a list of names for you. Drawn from every possible part of the Earth.” Rao displayed a series of names and Rafi had scanned them in a second. I want you to trace each of these persons and know what they are doing today.”
“For that I need their PIN.”
“I have some of them for you. Others, you have to find some method.”
“Eight hundred and one names....”
“I may have some more in another few days.”
“Hey, most of these are signos (slang for designers)..It makes my job much tougher...You know how secretive they are..... I’ve just doubled my fees. Why do you need them?”
‘I’m not paying you to ask questions. Just get me the answers.” Rao switched him off.
***************
The incessant beep from the hankyputer was a message begging to be read. Rao erected the screen. It was at these times that Rao wished he too had a chip communicating with his PC. The very thought jolted him out of sleep. By the time he had scanned the mail from Rafi his adrenaline was running riot and he was wide awake.
Rafi’s list read thus:
Name of subject | Social standing/PIN | Current status |
1.Chan, Rambo /33 yrs | designer AM12DS23SG876599345 | Vegetative/ 7 months/ Motor neuron Disease |
2.Chennamma, Laxmi/40 yrs | original, multiple DNA- implants KA15OG01FG124876 | Institutionalized; Dangerous homicidal tendencies |
3.Gandhi, Hillary / 27 yrs | designer DL27DS02SG329673961 | Progressive Demyelinating Neuropathy |
4.Hayek, Lara / 22 yrs | Cyborg, multiple DNA- implants MU45CB78FG4539876023 | Idiopathic (unexplained) terminal Cardiomyopathy. |
5.Monroe, Persis / 50 yrs | designer CH89DS43TG295173824 | Dead 4 months back. cause: Meningo encephalitis ( brain infection) |
6.Nehru, Abraham /72 yrs | clone. DNA- implant for therapy BO65CL28TG713340987 | End stage Renal Failure |
7.Pasteur, Irene /37 yrs | cyborg, two DNA- implants TU33CB57SG4612008965 | Dead. Fulminant hepato-renal failure |
8.Scotts, Tenzing / 62 yrs | designer RA81DS58TG447819310 | Committed suicide a week back, was suffering from depression |
9.Sobers, Bjorn / 50 yrs | designer KS36DS57SG237580413 | Heart transplantee, but transplant organ failing too |
10.Trump, Dhirubhai/ 78 yrs | original, recent DNA- implant for therapy AH56OG98TG81526309 | Failed therapy, succumbed. ?cause of death |
And so the list went on. Six hundred and nine of the eight hundred and one humans, from all over Earth and probably outside it too, were incapacitated to a great degree or in end stages of some intractable condition-all slowly and unsuspectingly! Hundred in the list had already succumbed to multi-organ failures ....and the ninety two...were probably waiting to happen! The most baffling part was that all the causes were the rarest of the rare, having been conquered in the 23rd-24th centuries, pre yokel era. As all the cases were geographically and chronologically separated from each other, every one had been probably classified as Interesting cases and perhaps, at this very moment being discussed and discarded as an aberration.
Rafi appeared on the south wall of Rao’s bedroom.
“Rao, this looks serious. These people seem to be falling like the proverbial nine pins- prey to varied, rapidly progressive conditions. And why did you want such an apparently insignificant piece of information. Are you sure you are not involved? ”
“Should I take it that because I am an original my integrity is being doubted? Or was that a genuine concern?”
“Look Rao. Here is a group of people who have been having some subtle signs and symptoms, no one knows since how long....probably recent onset, would be my guess.. Well these apparently healthy people have symptoms, trivial enough not to be taken seriously- a memory lapse, confusion, slur or loss of words...etc and within the next few months they are all really sick. And who stumbles on these microscopic needles in the haystack mound? An Original, activist and forerunner of Original Rights. Does the connection end there? Was he just a discoverer or a perpetrator of some sinister events? Rao, can’t you see that these are the questions you will be asked?”
“I know.... I know the answers too.” This time Rafi switched himself off with an exasperated sigh.
Janardhan Rao had made the connection. For some unknown reason, the designers and those that had DNA manipulations were falling prey. Not a single original or a pure cyborg was involved. Rao had a choice. To ignore the statistics as co-incidence, wait for it to approach epidemic proportions when the authorities would recognized the situation themselves. Or report it, and hence be in the dock of suspicion for ever.
He had no obligation to report at all. But did he want to? He recalled all the years of humiliation he had suffered as an original. He was ridiculed for his name as being unfashionable, for his abilities as being limited and painfully, for hoping to achieve what a designer or an enhanced cyborg could. His tearful, shameful childhood evenings were pacified by his parents or grand parents who would gently tell him about the legacy of his forefathers, how man has always triumphed against all odds and how important it was not to fall prey to immoderation. He learnt to respect and be thankful for all that he was endowed with, to expect within those confines...until he learnt to be the second citizen to the progressively enhancing humanoid population. Developing envy and nurturing hatred was a natural consequence. His orthodox, principled upbringing prevented him from attempting anything more daring or retaliatory than fighting for the rights of the Originals.
Had the time for revenge fructified now? His father was gone and the thought that he died fighting for a lost cause further incensed him. They would begin to elute Life and in the quest for perfection, prevent the originals from reproducing. He would be the last of the originals. Soon to be forgotten and relegated to the tombs of history....He had a task ahead.
****************
It was three days since anyone had established any sort of contact with Rao. In an era of inter-galactic surveillance, ‘missing’ or ‘lost’ was no longer possible. Sharada was certain someone knew where he was. That or he was dead....He would never get to know what she had hidden from him..... She blinked away her tears and contacted his office again.
By the next evening, there was bedlam. The designers were ordered to stop all their assignments and contact their health providers. They were requested not to panic but undergo the tests that were being ordered by the health personnel. Those on trans-stellar and trans-galactic missions were deported at once. Startling discoveries began unfolding.....
The designers were infected! Infections that were completely eradicated centuries ago had recurred! A tiny strand of genetic material had found its way into the human genome. That aberration was wreaking havoc on their bodies. It was causing multiple organ dysfunctions either suddenly or progressively. And to top it all it could not be isolated from the primary genomic strands! That it was present at all was rather presumptive evidence, strengthened by the increasing number of designers and genetic manipulatees who were reporting ill. However, they had succeeded in isolating a chemical IEN683 in blood, believed to be produced by the infecting virion. This formed the basis of recognizing the infected individual.
As news of large scale infections paralyzed the Earth, the witch hunt had begun too. How did the virion find its way into the genetic material despite stringent precautions in all genetic labs at the time of procreation? Which malicious mind could have conceived and executed such an operation, at not one but almost all genetic labs on Earth? Was this a clandestine operation of the originals-after all it was rumored that it was indeed an original who had spilled the beans? Were there genetic hackers on the prowl playing nasty games? Had the Chimera proponents become hostile when their project was gunned down by the authorities?
Every possible and impossible angle was being looked into and in the end they had only one answer. The genetic material had never come from outside. It was from WITHIN! Some strand of the genome had just mutated de novo! Why did it happen on a large scale and at that particular Time? Was there a yet unknown component in the genetic material? Something that had a greater potential than ever imagined? Could the genes have been communicating?!!! That sounded most outrageous and certainly impossible. Yet what had triggered the mass mutations? And that too at a time when humanity was on the brink of conquering Death? Eluting Life was the pinnacle of all inventions in the history of Earth. Man had endowed himself with capacities and intelligence far greater that ever attributed to the mythical unseen called God.....At the end, only one plausible answer was evident. There existed an inherent program; unidentifiable, hiding within the human genes, built in to check the orgies of manipulation when it got beyond tolerable limits. It had switched itself on now!
Earth was witness to the worst genocide ever. Designers who were the epitome of health and confidence were crumbling-physically and mentally. Having long forgone and forgotten the cohesiveness of family lives, soothing companionship of a spouse or adulation of children for a life of achievement, glory and perfection; they were all now utterly alone. Some had not yet given up. They were looking at other galaxies and planets for possible solutions....
*****************
Janardhan Shanker Rao was a free man after seven grueling days.
“What made you do it?”
“What?”
“Go to the Authorities and tell them about your discovery?” Sharada was walking hand in hand with her husband on the pristine evening beach.
“My grandfather once taught me a Sanskrit verse-
‘Sarve Bhavanthu sukhinah, sarve santhu niraamaya,
Sarve Bhadrani pashayanthu, maa kashchid dhukkhabaak bhaveth!
Om Shanthi, Shanthi, Shanthihi.’”
“And what does it mean darling?” She indulged her husband.
“May all be happy....May all be free from disabilities...May all look for the good of others...May none suffer from sorrow. Peace...Peace...Peace.
My clan was being decimated at the cost of a presumed superior one. The basis of our clan and hence its secret of survival was tolerance under all adverse circumstances and importantly believing in ourselves. If I were not to inform the authorities, the situation would have certainly manifested. I did not comprehend the gravity of the situation initially. But when it dawned on me that the designers could be facing possible extinction, a sense of empathy prevailed in me. I knew what it is to look into the face of extinction. I could not let it happen to all the humans. We were given this Earth and had to carry it on....”
“How were they convinced that you were not a perpetrator?”
“They weren’t. But you did it.”
“Me?”
“Yes. They had all my contacts bugged. When you tried to contact me and left a wonderful message that you were pregnant, it transformed them. ‘A man who is keen on reproducing, even under uncertain and distressful times, cannot possibly be an annihilator of Human race,’ they said.
The next morning, they woke up to an environmentally imperfect but acceptable day.
