The Yoga Zapper--A Novel, page 24
“What bothers me is that this happened on Contog’s watch,” Kallin stated. “I find it hard to believe that these things happened in Central Prison without his knowledge.”
“According to reports, Jack met with General Contog the day of his escape,” said the national security advisor.
“Do we have any recordings of that meeting?”
“No, sir. He had the electronic cloaking device activated.”
Kallin smiled. “How convenient. All these circumstances seem very suspicious, as if designed to leave absolutely no trail.”
“But why did Jack go so far to meet the rebels?” queried the advisor. “He could have met them in or near Kallington. I can only assume that he went to meet not just one or two rebels, but a whole group of them, most likely their top leadership.”
“Maybe a whole base up in the mountains?” offered Kallin.
“That makes sense. Is there a connection between the valley and the rebellion? Is it the rebel base?”
Kallin rubbed his beard thoughtfully. “How do we find out?”
“There is always a trace. All things point to General Contog’s direction. We need to find the base and….”
“And what?”
“If our general is hiding something from us.”
* * * * *
President Kallin sat on a large sofa in the drawing room. About fifty of his top brass, staff and retinue occupied the other furniture. Jini rested on a loveseat next to him.
“Gentlemen,” reported Kallin, “we have a situation on our hands.” The gathering looked at him expectantly. “We’ve had a serious breach of security, but more importantly, we have news of a rebel base in the mountains, something much bigger than expected.” A murmur swept the room.
“After Jack escaped, a couple of fighters tracked him to a valley in the mountains whose existence was hidden from us. We have determined that a large group of rebels, maybe even a base, is either inside a hidden valley or very close by.”
The advisor took the tablet and tapped on it. “This is a visual from one of the interceptors.” Scenes of the valley sparkled in the air in front of the group. They gasped. None could believe such a place existed.
“Is this place for real?” asked Jini.
“Yes,” answered Kallin.
A man in military garb with short gray hair, a thick white handlebar mustache, three stars on his epaulets and a green uniform sporting row upon row of badges and medals stood up. He held his cap in his hand, straightened his back and spoke in a low, gravelly voice. “If the rebels have the technology to hide this from us, it makes it an entirely different matter.” They all nodded their heads.
“That is the reason for the meeting, General Gahal,” said Kallin. “We have to decide on our reaction to this development.” The room erupted with animated conversation.
Kallin waited several minutes before addressing the assembly again. “So gentlemen, what do we do?”
General Gahal remained standing. “I say we meet them with as much force as possible and put an end to the rebels once and for all.”
“What do you suggest?”
“Let’s bomb the valley and be done with it,” replied Gahal, his eyes glaring and his chin jutting out. “That’s the way did it in my day.”
The national security advisor stepped in. “But we don’t have conclusive proof that the valley is actually the rebels’ base. We are also quite certain that Jack is not there. We shot him down about five miles away.”
“There is one more matter,” stated Kallin. “This is top secret, so it should not leave the room.” The gathering leaned forward attentively. “This rebel, Jack, mentioned that he is a time-traveler. At first, we dismissed his claims as pure nonsense. However, recent developments convince us that there may be some truth to his assertions.” The room erupted in exclamations.
“What kind of evidence?” questioned General Gahal.
“That information is classified, but it is a very troubling development. Do the rebels have this time-travel technology? If so, we should capture, not destroy it.”
“Then let’s send a division, maybe ten thousand men,” countered the general, stroking his long white mustache. “Let us enter the valley and see if the rebel base is there.”
“Good,” said President Kallin.
“But we have a problem,” revealed the national security advisor. “We have no base, not even a landing strip in that area. It is too mountainous.”
General Gahal spoke up. “The video recording shows a hilly area in front of the pass. We can drop some munitions, flatten the area and clear a base for our troops.”
President Kallin got up. “Very good, general. You command of our very best soldiers. Take your division and occupy the valley.”
Chapter Thirty
Shambala, End of Kali Yuga
BOOM! The shattering noise reverberated through the valley. And again, BOOM! Aircraft dropped large pulses of golden energy on the hills, crushing them, whipping huge boulders around; the explosions creating enormous fireballs, sending shards of rock screaming into the sky in all directions. The blasts destroyed the calm of the valley as thunder rolled from one end to the other.
Steve awoke and rubbed his eyes. As the shockwaves hit, faint outlines of yogis came into view. From under trees and on the banks of the river, they appeared, their consciousness descending from the invisible, topmost stage to visible, mundane reality. Their forms took on different colors first blue, then green, gold, orange until, finally, they appeared fully. Shanti tapped his shoulder.
“What’s happening?” he questioned.
“Time to get up. Shambala is being attacked.”
“Why are we being attacked? Isn’t that supposed to happen at the end of Kali Yuga?”
“Yes.”
“So why is this happening now?” he asked, completely confused.
Shanti chuckled. “We are at the end of Kali Yuga.”
“What! Didn’t we enter the Anandamaya state just now? Like a minute ago?”
Shanti laughed heartily. “Try hundreds of thousands, maybe millions, of years!”
“That’s impossible!”
“In the state of pure consciousness, anything is possible. Let’s go meet my father.” They walked to the meadow holding hands. The morning coolness quickly dissipated, but dew still hung heavy on the grass, moistening their ankles. Shanti spied her father, ran over, and hugged him. He kissed her on the forehead and embraced Steve happily.
“Father,” she exclaimed. “What should we do?”
“Let us wait until the entire community is with us.” By late morning, the pilgrims and sages all congregated and despite the uncounted years, looked just as fresh and vibrant as when their meditations started. The elders spoke amongst themselves for quite some time before addressing the assembly.
“Dear friends,” announced Vishnuyasha, the pujari. “Let us start with kirtan.” Middle-aged, of average height, with fair skin, dark eyes and a serious face, he wore a white dhoti and while he shaved his head and face, a sikha, a long pleat of hair, hung from the back of his head. A practitioner of bhakti yoga, his spiritual practices consisted of developing love in his heart for the Supreme. The inhabitants joyously clapped their hands and sung jubilantly, disregarding the thunderous destruction and the roiling red flames shooting high into the sky at the far end of the pass and, after an hour of chanting, felt refreshed.
“These are momentous times,” declared Parvata Rishi. “The great battle at the end of Kali Yuga is commencing.” A round of murmurs swept the crowd. “If we aren’t protected, we will be unable to carry the teachings of Yoga and the Vedas to the coming Satya Yuga and our mission will be defeated.” Whispering broke out in the audience, especially among the saffron-clad yogis.
“So what do we do?” questioned Steve.
“The answer is already amongst us,” asserted the rishi, pointing to the young son of the pujari. “Come, my boy.” The boy regarded his parents before timidly approaching.
“Who are you?” questioned the old man. The little boy, with a mop of mischievous hair, quick shining eyes, a ready smile and bare feet, squirmed shyly. Steve figured him to be hardly eight years old.
“These are my parents,” he mumbled, pointing to the pujari and his wife.
“What are their names?”
“My mata’s name is Sumati and my pita’s name is Vishnuyasha,”
The crowd buzzed appreciatively. Bewildered by the attention, the boy ran back to his parents as the crowd laughed at his innocence.
“This boy will be our savior,” proclaimed the rishi. “He is destined to become Kalki, the tenth avatar of Vishnu, come to protect us.”
Steve looked at Shanti. “How is that possible? He’s just a little boy.”
Shanti smiled. “Don’t doubt the Supreme. He can take any form He wants.”
“Tonight we will have a full lunar eclipse,” continued Parvata Rishi. “Let us all meet at the river at dusk and pray to Krishna, who is the blue-skinned Vishnu Himself, to descend in an avatar form to help us in our struggle against evil and oppression.”
The denizens of the valley got up and chatted with each other in great excitement. They now stood at the edge of a conflict that would determine the course of history, but more than that, they received the unique gift, the reward, of associating with an avatar of God Himself.
Evening brought peace as the bombing stopped and the airplanes left. The sun set quickly, darkness fell, and the heavens sparkled with stars.
“When will the eclipse start?” asked Steve.
“At exactly midnight,” Shanti replied. “This type of eclipse is exceedingly rare and the position of the constellations is unique.” He looked up. Stars twinkled in the inky sky but, being no astronomer, he couldn’t ascertain their relative positions. When the moon rode high, the rishi brought out huge oil lamps, each with dozens of wicks burning brightly. The elders stood on the river-bank, offering the lamps to the flowing waters.
“What are they doing?”
“They are offering puja to the river Sarasvati.”
“What for?”
“They’re requesting blessings from Sarasvati Devi to enter her waters and do our prayers.”
When the moon shone directly above, they all entered the river where it turned and spread out. The cold waters did not deter the worshippers, but instead, they walked with determination until they stood waist deep. Steve looked up. The moon slowly vanished, slice by slice.
The people chanted loudly and with enthusiasm. Vishnuyasha, his wife and their son moved to the middle of the assembly. When the moon finally disappeared and only a faint circle of light surrounded it, the young boy, as if pulled up by invisible ropes, ascended slowly and silently toward the celestial orb. Steve gasped. In the thick darkness, the child became lost to sight in seconds. The crowd continued chanting with increasing vigor, their voices disappearing into the heavens, determined that their prayers be heard.
Suddenly, a meteor exploded in the dark and shot down like a shell shattering in the sky. The crowd cowered for a moment, then peered intently upwards, straining their eyes, holding their breath. An instant later, a large white horse, its wide wings flapping swiftly, appeared at the head of the shooting star and glided swiftly down to the ground. On it sat the son of Vishnuyasha, no longer a small boy, but a powerful and magnificent young man. A chill traveled up and down Steve’s spine. He held on to Shanti’s hand tightly and she returned his grasp, squeezing strongly in excitement.
The rider and the horse landed on the riverbank and the tall clean-shaven young man, his skin the hue of moonlight, with long black curly hair, a handsome mustache, brilliantly shining gold earrings, and a glowing, gilded dhoti, descended. His strong, muscular body shimmered like a forest fire on a distant hill and in his right hand he held a sword, about five feet long, which emitted an unearthly radiance. When he smiled, Steve, charmed by his beauty, felt unable to move his eyes away.
As, sliver by sliver, the moon reappeared, the pilgrims moved out of the waters and congregated at the feet of the divine Avatar. Parvata Rishi dropped to his knees and clasped his hands together. “Oh dear Avatar,” he cried. “I am so fortunate to be in your blessed presence. Just having your darshan is enough to remove the sins of a million lifetimes, what to speak of serving you in person. Please allow me to assist you.”
Kalki Avatar benevolently blessed the rishi in a low and strong, yet immensely pleasing voice. “My dear rishi, you and all the devotees have my love and benedictions.”
The Avatar dismounted his horse, approached his parents and bowed his head respectfully. “Son,” declared Vishnuyasha with tears in his eyes. “This is the happiest day of my life.” His mother, beyond words, embraced him.
“My dear parents, I owe everything to you. I pray that I will bring pleasure to your hearts.”
“You already have, my son,” answered his mother. “You already have.”
Steve and Shanti walked close to the Avatar, his exquisiteness attracting them as a lamp draws moths. Steve turned away, unable to bear the luster. The horse, at least six feet tall at the shoulders, with large blue eyes, a magnificent mane, broad back, muscular legs and alert ears, looked splendid, unearthly in its own right. Steve dared not touch it. It carried itself as if it had blue blood, as if it would neither obey nor allow itself to be handled by mere mortals.
Parvata Rishi spoke. “Dear Kalki Avatar. You are alone. How can you defeat the army of the great tyrant?”
“Whenever any avatar descends, we do not come alone. We are always joined by our eternal associates and our paraphernalia.”
“I don’t understand,” said Steve.
“My horse, Devadatta, is with me,” said Kalki Avatar pointing to his steed, “along with my sword, a gift from the great Lord Shiva. My eternal associate, Hanuman, who accompanied me when I appeared as Lord Rama in Treta Yuga thousands of years ago, will join me now.”
Steve searched around. “Where is Hanuman?”
The Avatar blew into a large pink and white conch shell. As the last notes echoed among the trees, a large red monkey ran out from the forest on his hind legs. Steve jumped back. The enormous simian, with piercing eyes, powerful arms and muscular tail, measured six and a half feet tall. Gilded armor shielded his chest, a light yellow dhoti covered his legs and a golden crown sat on his head. He displayed a pleasant appearance, bemused brown eyes, and a wide smile. He bounded over to the Avatar.
“My dear Hanuman, our activities are endlessly variegated and eternal,” pronounced the Avatar, embracing his devotee. “Here at the end of Kali Yuga, I ask for your service again.”
“What shall I do?” requested the valorous monkey.
“The enemy has created a great disturbance. Please climb out of Shambala and into the mountains above. Return with a report so we can properly prepare for the upcoming battle.”
“I will explore the entire area,” replied Hanuman, scanning the peaks, now reflecting the early morning sun. “And by evening I will return with all the news.” He bowed humbly to his lord and jumped out of the valley with one single bound.
Steve, standing with the awe-struck crowd, grasped Shanti’s hand. “We are not alone,” he murmured. She nodded, smiling faintly.
* * * * *
Shambala, End of Kali Yuga
Jack crawled to the cave’s mouth and hesitantly peered out. The thunderous explosions of the previous day still rattled his head, unease gripped his stomach and pain took hold deep in his sinuses. The awful result of the devastating bombardment, surely the work of Kallin’s men out looking for him, came into view. The black granite stone that had halted his progress lay shattered, its smooth, sharp splinters strewn all over, revealing a small path leading between the mountains. He glanced at the darkening sky. The setting sun threw long shadows, covering the land. For the first time, Jack snuck cautiously out of the cave.
Suddenly, something gripped his neck! He got pulled straight up and came face to face with an enormous monkey. The massive creature, with a broad chest, long muscular arms, and sharp, intelligent eyes, roared angrily. Jack gulped in big lungful’s of air and his body shook. The monkey frowned and scratched his chin, then picked him up, threw him on his back and, with his tail wrapped around Jack’s body, sprung away. Jack had no choice except to hold on for dear life.
Taking enormous leaps, the monkey clambered down the mountain, hurdled over boulders with amazing agility, bounded into the dark pass and, when he came to the edge of a steep cliff, jumped out into the void with all his might. Jack screamed. The monkey landed on a ledge. Jack calmed his thumping heart and peered into a beautiful valley, observing a river, sparkling as it wound its way through jade forests, reflecting the cobalt sky all along its length like a dark-blue crystal necklace. The monkey again descended at breakneck speed and finally landed in the waters with both of his feet. The crash of a waterfall sounded nearby. The creature ran along the river bank and finally stopped at a flat pasture. There, he laid Jack on the grass, moved about ten feet away, and sat observing him.
“Hanuman,” came a voice.
A tall, well-built man, with an aura surrounding his body, walked out of the forest. The monkey immediately jumped over and bent down, touching his feet. The man pointed at Jack and though the simian replied in an unknown language, Jack easily deduced that they were talking about him.
The man motioned and the monkey picked Jack up and entered the forest. A campfire burned under the trees where a few humans cooked food. Left slumped up against a nearby pine tree and too exhausted to move, he fell, within minutes, into a deep sleep.
* * * * *
Steve rubbed his eyes. Could it be? The profile was unmistakable!
“Jack!” he shouted. The figure on the ground got up and groggily looked around.
“Steve? Is that you?”
