The Destiny of Shaitan

by Laxmi Hariharan

  Thalia falls back against her seat, the adrenaline draining out of her as she escapes with her newly-conceived foetus. She lets the spacepod carry her along. And, burying her head in her hands, weeps in gut-wrenching sobs, desperately hoping that Shaitan never finds her.

  However, track her down he does.

  Shaitan recovers quickly from the grazing wound she has dealt him. He gets to his feet, runs out of his room and onto the open quadrangle. He looks up to the skies just in time to see his spacepod disappear into the next dimension.

  The two soldiers look at him, dreading his anger. Shaitan is indeed quiet as he continues to stare at the empty space where the spacepod had originally docked. He is really angry now. Controlling himself, he walks across to the tracking panel in the control room adjoining his penthouse. Keying in a few numbers he quickly tracks the progress of the vehicle.

  His lack of reaction bothers his guards even more. They know that when the explosion comes it is going to be worse than expected. They look at each other and, in a fluid move, take out their personal daggers and plunge them into each other’s hearts.

  Shaitan continues to focus on tracking the ship. He traces it to its destination: Bombay, on Earth. Galvanised by his vision, he opens his eyes and is about to give a curt order to the guards to follow him when he notices in mild surprise that they are both dead. He walks past them towards his room emerging minutes later back on the terrace. He is wearing his protective vest over black leather trousers. He picks up his sword, the ruby in the centre glowing deep as he straps it to his back. He walks across the open terrace to the other side, presses a few buttons on the wall so that the panels slide back to reveal a space ship thrice the size of the one person spacepod which Thalia had escaped in. He walks to it and jumps into the pilot’s seat. The space ship shoots out into the skies and towards the setting sun.

  The nano seconds it takes to catapult into the next dimension is the equivalent to nine months earth time. Thalia has just docked the ship. As she prepares to leave the vessel the first throes of labour pain catch her unawares and she doubles over breathing heavily trying to control the contractions. Events then take a life of their own as she proceeds very quickly into the final stages and with a final mighty push Rai arrives into the world. The spacepod echoes with the sounds of the baby’s cries.

  It takes a few more long minutes for her to recover and clutch the baby to her chest. The child stops crying as she kisses his forehead. For a few seconds more she looks at him, her perfect creation. She has to save him from the wrath of Shaitan, hide him away before he arrives. And she had no doubt that he was on his way.

  Gathering herself together she gets to her feet, wrapping the child in the scarf she had earlier tied around her neck and leaves the spacepod. The panel doors swish shut after her as she sets foot onto Bombay. As she walks away from the ship, it lifts off and leaves. She feels all alone all over again, not that the ship was human but at least it was familiar.

  She takes a few steps out into the world and realizes that she is on the top of one of the highest towers of the city. As she looks around trying to orient herself she spots a very familiar signpost in the distance - Antilla. At one point it had been a two hundred and fifty storey tall residence of the ruling family on Earth. After the tsunami destroyed Bombay, it had been replaced with an alter ego, a simulated holographic image of the Goddess of Bombay. Many limbed, curvaceous, with flowing hair and various weapons of war clutched in her right hands; from her left a steady downpour of gold coins feeding the gluttony of a city at its peak of excess. The figure is almost as tall as the original Royal residence. It extends from the ground all the way up into the skies. A multihued figure watched over the city, her eyes darting around following the citizens going about their lives.

  Thalia looks to her for a minute in awe and inspiration. Then her eyes are drawn to a speck in the distance far behind the holographic Goddess and she watches as it heads in her direction. It flies right through the hologram heading towards her. As it comes closer it reveals itself to be a space ship, similar in design yet much bigger than the spacepod she had flown.

  “Shaitan,” her mind screams. Clutching the child, now asleep in her arms, she dashes towards the nearest entrance heading down the staircase. As she descends she looks around in desperation for a place where she can hide the baby. As she continues to run down the steps and across the floor below, she finds suddenly what seems to be a flap panel to an opening in the wall. She runs towards it and opens it, wondering what it is, only to realise it is a transportation shaft, normally used to dump trash which is then collected at the bottom of the building before being taken away. She hesitates only for a second. As an afterthought, she takes off the chain around her neck and places it around the child. Pausing only to wipe away her tears, she places the child on the shelf behind the panel and closes it. She plays with the keypad of the panel to make sure that it drops all the way to the bottom of the building. She listens as the gears change and the shelf is transported down, taking the child with it.

  Then Thalia walks out onto the terrace. Shaitan steps out from his ship and walks over to her.

  Thalia looks at him trying not to show how terrified she is. Shaitan pulls out his sword and walks over to her. Her legs give away as she falls to her knees. Shaitan pulls her by her hair so that her neck is exposed and bringing his sword down swipes off her head in one stroke. He wipes his sword on Thalia’s clothes and puts it back in its leather casing on his back. He walks back to his waiting space ship and leaves.

  Rai’s journey

  After Thalia – his mother died at the hands of Shaitan, Rai had been lucky enough to have been taken in by one of the few surviving orphanages in Bombay. Having spent the next eighteen years learning to beg, borrow and steal his way through to adulthood, Rai knows how lucky he is to be alive. As soon as he turned eighteen, he went travelling.

  Stowing away on ships, intercity jets, trains, buses, any moving vehicle he could find, he had finally made it to the hot deserts of Rajasthan. A once beautiful & historic part of the country now razed to the ground by Shaitan. It was here that he first experienced a true awakening of the senses. When Gerald had taken him in his arms in the midst of the desert, and shown him the honest sweaty emotion of healthy male lust. Rai had stayed to lead many tours around the region. Navigating through the spirits of those slaughtered by Shaitan, searching the skies above the ruins of the Taj Mahal, among the living dead of Agra...

  And now Rai is back full circle...Back to Bombay. The ultimate maximum city which consumes him lives through him, driving him to struggle towards his hopes & dreams. It was in this city that he had reached the pinnacle of his life. Where he had met his love and lost his trust. The city always made him feel breathless. As if something monumental was just about to happen. It echoed the stillness of his heart when his gut yet refused to believe the messages his skin was sending out. It was only in Bombay that he could be himself — no inhibition, nothing weighing him down. It had taken him less than a week to find an apartment. Originally a city built on seven islands, after the tsunami, Bombay had reduced back to being the original seven islands.

  The highlight of Rai’s life was the Saturday night rave parties held on Colaba beach. The original structure of the Gateway of India had been reduced to a ruined arch by the tsunami. It provided a great backdrop for the weekend celebrations. Surreal by moonlight with the techno-beats bouncing off the structure and the laser beams lighting it up, and people from all over the country coming down to dance on the beach.

  Scenes from his life flash across Rai’s mind as he dozes in the sunshine at Nina’s Coffee Shop one of the few surviving coffee shops in the city, now serving up steaming cups of the brew that is fast becoming a rare commodity. Already coffee beans are in short supply. Only the better off can afford it. The rest can only stare at the steaming concoction with greed.

  Nina’s cafe is tiny. It has only four tables. And the dozen chairs are so small Rai could
just about squeeze his tall frame into them. He looks across at the temple next door dedicated to the Goddess of Bombay. Opposite is a new age shop doing pretty well, with the female of many species from different parts of the world coming in to get their inner souls fixed.

  Just then the old woman next to Rai - with skin stretched so tight across her face that Rai is sure it will snap any minute - makes appreciative noises as Nina serves her a tofu which trembles in its dish. “Oh my,” says the old woman, fanning herself with red-tipped fingers. “Too much. Too much. I wanted just a little.”

  “Well eat up, bitch,” thinks Rai. There seem to be too many of these old hags around, with acid-peeled faces, white tights, and yellow, nicotine-stained fingers. Hanging onto equally aged companions, dressed in ridiculous holiday attire. Light blue cardigans, ironed jeans, and old-fashioned Nikons with large lenses. All of the tourists seem to smile at the quaint scene of the Indian temple, with the cafe opposite playing Bollywood love songs.

  This is Bombay.

  One of the few cities on the planet to have survived first the tsunami which destroyed much of Earth and then Shaitan’s conquering advance across the world. The old way of life is preserved here on Bombay, for the pleasure of intergalactic tourists who visit from everywhere. They come in search of truth. To learn and share in the emotion of living life in the form it existed many years ago. When a man could love a woman, woo her, and have babies the old-fashioned way.

  Rai looks at the woman seated at the next table to him at the coffee shop as she now digs into the white, jelly-like substance. The tofu slithers around on her plate and she chases it around with her spoon until she finally captures it and eats it with relish.

  Somehow, the entire incident reminds Rai of his current obsession, Flaccid. This, of course, is the real reason behind him leaving the solace of his apartment in the affluent island of Colaba to the grungier party island of Versova.

  Flaccid. The one picked up at the most happening same-sex hangout in the city.

  Rai chanced upon him at the bar situated right behind Nina’s coffee shop. Next door is the more affordable communication-café, with backpacking students on their one-year-to-see-the-galaxy routine, surfing the mind waves with their invisible antennae, trying to look occupied but really on the lookout for cheap sex.

  Rai had stumbled across the bar by accident. The combination of the loud rave music pouring out and the charms of the muscular bouncer at the door had drawn him in. He had walked in and ordered a martini. Even before he had picked out the olives Flaccid had walked into his life.

  To the sound of trip-hop, Flaccid had picked up the drink from his hand and taken a long, drawn out sip, looking at Rai over the rim of his martini glass. Rai had watched; as without breaking eye contact Flaccid had put his arms around him. They had kissed with eyes open wide. That was how it was all night long. Swallowed up, Rai could do no more but taste the magic of his lips. He could not even remember touching or being touched anywhere else by his lover. It was all about his lips.

  When finally, he could stand it no more he had made the only direct move in their relationship reaching down between his lover’s legs.

  To find the nub of their relationship, the ghost of the ex-wife, the evidence of that which was to lead to their breaking up; the flaccid member.

  “So this is how it felt to reach the end of desire” thought Rai as Flaccid pulled back, leaving Rai in the agony of his unconsummated desire. Rai had looked on helpless as Flaccid pulled on his bikini shorts, then his trousers, and his T-shirt and left. Then reaching out he took the old-fashioned pocket watch Flaccid had left behind and closed his fingers around it.

  The next day at Nina’s coffee shop, Rai is still in the misery of his not pre-nor-post stuck-in-the-middle coitus as he goes over each individual mind-connected, soul-stirring moment of their encounter.

  How, Rai wonders, is he going to find Flaccid in this crazy city; Among the mildewed dregs of coffee shops, incense filled temples, painters’ exhibitions, antique fairs, flea markets, and karaoke bars? All spread around him, overwhelming him with their noise, and sucking him in. Into the vortex of a man he knows of only as Flaccid.

  It is time. Time then, to go back to the basics. Perhaps tease the past into revealing Flaccid’s whereabouts. Or else, he thinks in that dramatic fashion unique to his thinking, cease, desist, snip and move on?

  He is left suspended in the agony of the decision. The kind which is difficult to make and yet once made, will change the course of the future and of the past.

  He picks himself up.

  “Goodbye, Nina.” He waves to the familiar slim, beautiful girl behind the counter and walks towards the highest point of the city on Malabar Hill. He crosses the bridge across the narrow canal, which runs through the tall towers of the few remaining old-fashioned nineteenth century skyscrapers, a straggling reminder of the past. He proceeds past the central market, teeming with all manner of life and mementos for sale from across dimensions. Across the art exhibition situated in the clearing after the market.

  He takes the final turnoff for the peak and boards the antique, still functioning, cable car up, up towards the heavens. He perches at one end of the row of seats, nervously fingering his eyelashes, revelling in the sick sorrow bubbling up from his core and considers his future.

  Getting off, he walks towards the end of the world, the peak of his life. As he reaches his destination his calm stance finally melts, dissolving slowly in the flood of tears pouring down his cheeks.

  Rai stands on the small shelf-like space jutting out from the peak overlooking the city, looking towards the future he never had. Then braces himself, his feet spread out wide, pushing down against the earth, against the rocky surface of his life, ready to take off.

  He shuts his eyes, takes a deep purifying breath and then, just as he is about to let go and jump...“Rai?” he hears a soft voice. He shakes his head. Once again taking a deep breath, he tries to focus neither on the past nor the future, but just on the now on the moment gathering his emotions to make that jump down.

  “Rai? ... Rai!” This time the voice is more insistent. “It’s not yet time, Rai.” He opens his eyes and sees an apparition in white robes, floating gently, wisps of hair from a long white beard blowing gently in the breeze, face serene. Their eyes are level. Rai looks down towards his feet, and realises that he is suspended miles from firm land.

  “Who are you? Where am I?” gulps Rai.

  “I am Mimir. And I am here to help you fulfil your destiny.” The figure smiles. Rai continues to gaze, confused, the base of his spine prickling, his feet tingling, the hair on his forearms rising up, the shackles around his heart seem to crack, whisper, finally melt and break away.

  “Destiny?”

  “You do have one, you know.”

  “I do?” asks Rai wonderingly, a cynical part of him denying what he has just seen and yet some core of him wanting, needing permission to carry on.

  “Yes, a future larger than life, bigger than everything you have ever imagined. A place where anything is possible.”

  Rai hesitates, taking a fleeting look at the lights below.

  “Change. It is coming to you now, Rai. Everything you ever asked, indeed prayed for. Grab it now, for your time has come.”

  “How would you know?”

  “I am here to take you on your chosen path.” Mimir smiles again. “Come with me.” He holds out his hand.

  Rai takes a final look at the city spread in front of him. Then, takes out the old-fashioned pocket watch that Flaccid had left behind. He lets it fall from his hand. His eyes strain to follow it through the darkness as it traces a path of white light in its wake until he finally tears his gaze away and looks at Mimir. Rai places his palm in Mimir’s outstretched hand.

  “I am ready,” he says finally. And Mimir transports him through the wormhole, the tunnel which spans time, across the seven colours of the rainbow, where his destiny awaits. His future. At Arkana. In the academy of Hal
f Lives.

  Just as Tiina and Yudi are taking a walk in the grounds of the academy. They look up from their conversation to see the white light up in the skies. A familiar light symbolizing that Mimir is bringing in a new person.

  They wait for Mimir and Rai.

  Mimir leads a shaken Rai, who is not yet sure about what has actually happened. He cannot help but smile back at Tiina and Yudi’s welcoming wide smiles. They run up to him and embrace him. Rai finally feels at home.

  Tiina’s Journey

  Tiina’s spacepod creaks and groans as she manoeuvres with superhuman effort out on a trajectory away from the main route used by star ships and away into the night skies. Sudden silence greets her and the unusually bright stars in the distance are her only company for a few seconds. Then as suddenly the stars lose their form, blending into one, she switches time zones, moving into a complete alternate reality. It is only for a few minutes, but that is enough to take her off the radar of the air patrol cops who are giving chase. They lose her trail completely.

  Still running high on adrenaline, Tiina nevertheless heaves a sigh of relief. She relaxes enough to switch the spacepod back to the now.

  Then making a huge boomerang-like arc through the night sky, she sets the nose of the spacepod down, en route to her destination, zooming in with a terrifying speed, which compels her eyes to shut involuntarily as the ground comes up at an alarmingly fast pace to meet her. The craft bounces once, then twice, finally screeching to a halt in front of the Wanch. The jolt shudders through her bones and reminds her of the massive drills of Java which used to ceaselessly pound down sending shivers razing over the shells of sky scrapers destroyed by Shaitan trying to build new homes for the survivors.