‘You fool!’ AIman’s eyes seemed to change colour. ‘You would have fit in well with the Neolithic women of Burzahom pits. Kashmir is the centre of the Universe where all 8.7 million species were populated by Rishi Kashyapa. It is where Manu or Noah landed the Nav Bandhu—Noah’s Ark—after the great flood. But Arman has gone way beyond Rishi Kashyapa. Look around you and see the variety of QuGene creations.’
‘These ghastly creations are proof that Arman’s mental illness is worsening. Does he think that he’s Van Gogh? He is on the verge of total insanity. It is the end for him.’
AIman tried the maniacal laugh, but only for a second. ‘He has the world at his feet. We are all his slaves. Look at yourself, hidden in this pit. Who is mad here? My father has never been healthier and fitter than he is now.’
My mother seemed like she would lunge at AIman. I feared she would have, if she had the mace. ‘Health is the unrestricted movement of the body, mind and heart. This movement is powered by the bioplasmic Life Breath. The property of our Life Breath is freedom. It is this freedom that leads to creativity and joy. You will not even understand this, you pile of graphene. It is all internal and not powered by machine.’
‘Here goes the ancient fool mouthing myths,’ AIman moved her fingers to mimic lip movement. ‘Understand this, old fool, there is no such thing as Life Breath. When the Instrument designed me, he told me that he wanted me to be sukha. I’m sure you know what that is: su meaning ‘happy’ and kha meaning ‘empty’. I am empty of ego, empty of delusion, empty of the need to rest, empty of error, empty of impurity, empty of bias, and most importantly, empty of the weakness of forgiveness. I am formidable,’ she laughed her robotic laugh, her mouth contorted. ‘What I am filled with is materiality, the only reality, intense reality, vicarious reality, the final reality that humans can experience. I bring every materiality into my interior to serve my father. He is the Master of the Universe.’
Now my mother laughed, ‘Your connectivity has no empathy. You cannot love, and without love, you cannot understand creation. You are a crooked serpent with a forked tongue, and you and your master have poisonous fangs.’
AIman was unfazed by the slur and her angelic, smooth rounded tone with laser-like logic remained unchanged, ‘I am programmed to consider all possibilities, but ultimately I arrive at the right answer with the utmost brevity. No different than the wiggling movement of a snake that slithers forward in a straight line to strike at its prey. Now if you’ll excuse us, you’re wasting our—’
My skin crawled at AIman’s analogy. But my mother countered, her hands still shielding me, telling me to back away. ‘All possibilities? Your incompleteness is staggering because your possibilities are limited in Time and Space. The truth of reality lies beyond that. Only humans can know that. You will never know Truth.’
‘Look, you erstwhile scientist. Machines defeated humans in intelligence by AD 2050 and gained human consciousness by AD 2500. You know what gave the first breakthrough in AI brain design? Biocomputers using proteins instead of electrons, whose movements are driven by adenosine triphosphate, a chemical that enables energy transfer between cells. Dushita has promised father that he will grant the supreme gift of mind over matter to him. Then one can even have an effect on the probabilities of outcomes. Do you know what that means? The power of the highest level of consciousness will belong to me.’
‘Don’t embarrass yourself. What you are parroting is what Arman stole from me. The probability that you will gain consciousness is zero.’
AIman was undeterred, ‘I will go from being Superhuman to Transhuman. Powered by totality. Everything will be within me,’ she sneered, her finger pointing to her head. ‘I will be the ultimate Unified Intelligence repository. I am and will be Truth, the truth of perfected reality.’
My mother laughed hard, a laugh so sarcastic that could put anyone to shame. ‘Let me tell you what science itself says. Many including Godel, Heisenberg, Turing and Laplace have mathematically proven that no human or AI inside a Universe can know it fully. David Wolpert proved the existence of the Knowledge Limit. The limit to complete knowledge is as much a law as gravity. The best that Unified Intelligence can aspire to is knowledge of nearly everything. It is Arman’s arrogance that changes “nearly” to become all. It takes humility to realize that they themselves are the limiting constraint to their own completeness. But of course, Arman knows no humility,’ she said with a flick of her fingers.
My mother’s full-frontal attack processed inside AIman. Even her circuits could not refute my mother’s logic. ‘You question my knowledge-seeking approach, but you have nothing to offer as an alternate thesis. I am programmed to receive all new information. Share it.’
Hafiz sent me a message. ‘Vidya should be careful. My sensors are showing that AIman’s processing is going into hyperdrive.’ This worried me. I moved closer to stand by my mother. She held my hand tightly and fired right back, ‘You are in Mount Kailash. It is here that Karkati used to roam, a demoness like you who had an insatiable appetite. She would enter humans like a small pin and devour them, but eventually she learnt her lesson. In this cave lies the answer. If the Self is the limitation to knowing the Universe, then knowing the Self is the obvious way to go. So, one must go to the source—the Self. Your Self is empty, which means you have nowhere to go. There is simply no way for you to know it all.’
AIman asked sceptically, ‘You accuse my master of Utopia, but you yourself propose a different Utopia, one of this mysterious Self. What is in there?’
‘The entire Universe exists inside the Self, no different than a tree that exists inside the seed. But to know the Self, any division between the Self and the Universe must fall and become one. When the moment of Unified Life happens, all sciences are destroyed, which is what happens in Kailash, the abode of Maha,’ she spoke now rather calmly as if actually experiencing what she was saying. ‘An oceanic experience arises—the touch of Maha that is beyond any measuring instrument. This experience gives freedom and bliss, which is the priceless gift of Maha.’ She broke into a smile that reflected peace.
It was then that the cat Bisht let out a snarl. AIman’s voice was steely now. ‘Bisht has spoken. You cannot be reprogrammed because you have been hardwired by your tradition. No re-engineering is possible here with the leftovers of history.’
Hafiz’s voice chimed in my ear. ‘AIman’s sensors are showing an exponential increase in her energy draw. Watch out, Dawn.’
‘Something is happening to her temperature—it’s shooting up, be careful.’ It was Yaniv.
I concentrated on AIman’s skin, which was now glistening. There was the faintest rattling sound coming as the latent snake scales had started moving.
But my defiant mother was equally tough, ‘I am true to my stories and culture. You are empty of the Self and thus are nothing to me. Dawn and I are the only true women left. You are merely an artificial graphene machine. My daughter will not go with you and meet that depraved, psychotic man.’ She looked AIman straight in the eye and spit on the ground.
AIman pronounced in a slow, measured, deliberate cold tone, ‘Your cultural myths have zero merit. All stories are obsolete. They have no informational value and were erased during the Data Deluge. You yourself are a leftover of father’s history. I act on your death sentence now, pronounced by father himself a moment ago.’
Before my very eyes, AIman’s white form morphed into a million black carbon needle particles that streamed towards us. My mother pushed me and shouted, ‘Run, Dawn. Zuv vandmaye, my life for you.’ I clutched her hand tight, as she whispered a chant facing the oncoming Kali Andhi, the Black Wind forces. The particles enveloped her in a black cloud, penetrating every single cell. Her hand left mine and the chant faded away. The particles eviscerated every atom of hers, destroying her at a molecular level.
Nothing remained.
‘Noooooo! Ma!’ I let out a piercing scream and stood horrified. As the cloud of particles returned and AIman started
re-forming, my mace that had gotten glued to my hand lifted. Before I knew it, it took off, pulling me along with it. I fumbled with the antigravity belt on my waist and shot off into the cave’s passageway.
I had a head start into the darkness inside, but I could hear AIman’s loud command echoing through the cave: ‘Don’t let her escape.’ I bolted, accelerating my speed as I zipped through the air, my sobs and tears vanishing into the dark cave amidst the noise of the monsters giving chase. But their advanced hunter scanners guided them accurately on my trail. Their scanner lights lit up the cave walls in front of me. It reflected the magnificence of the jewels and gems. My blurry eyes could make out the brilliant colours highlighting the fragility of the jewel formations, just like my mother had told me. I howled in grief.
The cave had a very long passageway that stretched miles ahead beyond the lights. My mace was twisting and turning me as it sped with sonic velocity through the many turns and curves. ‘Do something!’ I commanded furiously to the Pandavas. ‘I’m trying to set up a barrier in their way. Hang on, Dawn . . . We’re very sorry,’ Hafiz spoke in a soft, reassuring voice.
The monsters were shouting hideous cries and were beginning to close in on me. Was this my end? Was my last view going to be the spar crystals and cave pearls?
The cave suddenly changed. Now, I was flying through the deeper part that was completely iced over. The ice was moist, but it was getting bluer as I went deeper inside. A sonorous vibration was coming from the mountain. A faint light began to penetrate from the approaching exit. I tried to adjust my eyes, rubbing my tears away, as we flew from pitch darkness. Then all of a sudden, I saw a figure standing in front of the exit. It was a woman’s figure set at the entrance and looking outside. She was wearing crimson garlands atop a single piece of red cloth. Her body was smeared with red paste and her skull was surmounted with a lit candle. She held a noose in one hand and a skull in the other. I thought I was going mad, but she was exactly the picture that ma had shown me during our sessions. ‘Kaalaratri? What . . .’
‘I see it too. Run into her.’
‘Are you insane?’
‘Trust me, Dawn. I’m here for you.’
Go to her? Had Hafiz gone mad? I desperately looked for other ways to get out, but there was only one—leading to her. I did not want to follow his instructions. Then it hit me: my mother was dead. Murdered. It was as if her voice came back to me, ‘Kaalaratri is your northern protector.’
I tightened my fist around the mace and braced myself for impact. Speeding up, I ran smack into the figure, but strangely, no collision happened. I was just moving away from what I realized was a hologram. I stopped to look back. The monsters, tiring of their chase, took aim and looked at the woman in front of them. They fired at the flying figure. Instinctively, I put my hands over my face.
All of a sudden, the firing stopped. I scanned my surroundings. ‘What had happened?’
‘I had switched you with Kaalaratri and faked the image signals into the monsters’ sensors,’ chuckled Hafiz giddily.
‘You created an illusion?’ I heard myself speak. ‘Like Arjuna . . . So, I turned into Kaalaratri and she took my place to save my life?’ I had lost my beloved mother, and now Kaalaratri was my protector.
‘Yes, the monsters think they have destroyed you and have flown back.’
It was over. Through the northern exit, I had entered China. I looked around.
I was the last woman left on earth.
Sarga 8
Justice
Martand, Kashmir
Waves of grief swept through me. I was sick from the horror that I had experienced and now that I was out of the cave, it had caught up with me. My mace guided me through turbulent terrain for what seemed like hundreds of miles, zigzagging past rocks and boulders in the almost desolate expanse. As fast as it had begun, the mace slowed down all of a sudden in front of a large hollow in the face of a hill. I fell down headfirst.
‘Ma! Ma! Come back . . . Come back!’ I howled into the night, choking up and curling into a ball, shivering terribly. I felt a wet cloth on my face. Someone was dabbing my heated face with it. ‘Drink this,’ Tabah said, raising a cup of warm liquid to my lips. I looked up, trying to focus my hazy vision on the faces. As the liquid coursed down my throat, I vaguely remembered snatches of events. The Outlaws had found me, and then Tan had guided all of us to his hideout in Xi’an and we were safe. But for how long?
Then anger rushed through my veins. I could not keep myself from crying and calling out to my mother—she was all that I had. It was my father who had given the orders. What had turned him into such a horrific psychopath? Dushita? Even as my heart was broken, as I cried uncontrollably into the night, it was hardening.
The Pandavas had surrounded me and they tried to communicate their sympathy in silence. Yuva patted my head with his trunk as Kira looked at me mournfully. I turned to Yuva and asked him, tearful with anger, ‘Could you not have prevented this and saved my mother?’ I thought I saw a tear form in his eye. Kira answered in a soothing voice, ‘If Yuva had interfered, then he would be in the immortality business like Dushita. Your mother died fearlessly doing her duty. Now she lives in you.’
‘In me? She’s dead!’ I almost spat out.
‘You will understand the presence of your mother’s fearlessness better as you learn more, child,’ he uttered, and a deep sadness filled his voice.
‘Revenge,’ I whispered. It was my anguished one-word answer to when he asked what would interest me on our next cognition journey. I sat up and looked into the bonfire that was lit. Loosening my hair, I took a vow through clenched teeth. ‘I will not tie my hair until I have slain AIman and become drunk with the white blood that flows through her.’
We found ourselves looking down at a giant temple. It was built on a plateau from where one could behold the entire Valley of Kashmir. The temple was in the centre of a huge colonnaded courtyard. Inside the perimeter were inlaid several intricately carved shrines. There were water tanks inside the compound separated by a walking path that led to the temple. The central shrine had a magnificent pyramidical roof. The entrance from the west was exactly of the same dimension as the central temple. The view from the passage put the picturesque temple, which was thronged by crowds, in a precise frame. Even in my grief, I couldn’t help admiring it.
‘Where are we?’ I asked Yuva.
‘Martand Temple. It is believed by many to be the house of the original Pandavas.’
As we got closer, our attention diverted towards the shocking reality of the crowds. There were thousands of people who were being led and lined up towards the western entrance and being asked if they wanted to join Sultan Butshikan and follow his rules. Those who refused were slaughtered on the spot. The women were mistreated in ways too painful to see. The boys turned their faces away, but they could not stop hearing the shrieks of the people being put to torture by the beasts. But I willed myself. Revenge.
The grand temple itself had Butshikan’s people who were trying to set the masonry in flames using gunpowder. There were others who were systematically defacing the side chapels and the main temple. A few were desecrating the inner sanctum accompanied by loud whoops and tribal war cries. The cries of the victims were echoed by the mountains, telling them that they were not going unnoticed. Even as the sun set, the flames licking the sky lit up the land as far as the horizon. To celebrate the day’s work, Butshikan’s troops broke out in a celebratory war dance in front of the temple.
But as night fell, even the troops were exhausted after a long day of sadistic acts. As the moon rose, we heard the prisoners, the local people, singing in a low voice from atop a hill where we camped. The sonorous lyrics were soothing: ‘I am infinite. I have no fear of the four faces of Death. I am immortal.’
It sounded familiar. ‘I recognize the opening syllables . . . It is Vyapata Charachar, isn’t it? It is an ancient song, which my mother would recite. She was whispering that even as AIman . . .’ I couldn�
�t bring myself to finish the sentence.
‘The self-realized people know that they are one with Maha and are part of the endless cycle of creation and rebirth of life,’ said Kira, looking at the moon that glowed in the black-ink sky. ‘Death holds no fear. But Butshikan and his invaders have sold their Self. Even while alive, they are no different than the empty killer robots who too must follow a higher command. They took away the birthright of every human—the gift to be free. What the people and your mother, Dawn, were singing was no ordinary song. It is the anthem of freedom. You should learn it along with one other chant that I will teach you.’
Kira would not speak often, I had observed, but when she did, I would absorb and carefully take note. I knew that this song was one that I would have to research to know who Maha was. Chants were a possible pathway to Maha, ma had told me once. ‘We must leave now. There is one other temple I would like you all to see,’ said Yuva, getting up from a rock on which he was seated. In a moment, our Cognition Twins transported to the new place.
The next temple had five deodar trees—the trees of the noble energies—inside the main compound where the roof had fallen in. I was astonished to find that this temple was in honour of Bala, a nine-year-old girl, who was such a fierce warrior that she slew thirty sons of the angry and lustful demon Banasura—the very same demon to whom was born the daughter Dawn after whom I was named. What a small world it is with mysterious and surprising connections across Time and Space! I thought.
Dawn Page 14
