The Yoga Zapper--A Novel, page 26
Chapter Thirty Three
Kallin’s Estate, End of Kali Yuga
Kallin’s face looked gray, ashen. General Gahal dead and ten thousand men gone. The commanding officers sat in their seats with morose faces.
“General Contog,” asked Kallin grimly. “Can you get a recording of the battle?”
“Yes sir. We’ll get a feed from one of the satellites.” He picked up his tablet, made a connection, a beam of light shot forth and images formed in the air. At first, the pictures looked grainy, as if filmed through a layer of cloud. Seconds later, the scene came into view. The moving objects, though small, were clear to see.
“What the hell are those?” demanded Kallin.
“Monkeys and bears!” exclaimed Contog.
“But they’ve been extinct for thousands of years!” cried Jini. “Look! Look at that man on the flying horse!”
“Who is he?” exclaimed the Hand of God. “How did the enemy get so strong? Where did they get the weapons to compete with us?” Kallin’s face flashed with anger. He slammed his hand on his desk. “I want answers!” he shouted. “I want to know what the hell happened up there.” Spurred by Kallin’s demands, the assembly started discussing things, but the sheer unexpectedness of the turn of events stumped them all. The conversations died down.
“What the hell is going on? Can anyone of you give me answers?” No one spoke.
“They all seem to come from the valley,” Jini answered timidly.
“Yes,” said Kallin. “Go on.”
“Maybe the valley hides species we’re unaware of, species been driven to extinction everywhere else.”
The national security advisor glanced at Kallin. “Like a land lost in time?” he asked.
Kallin shook his head shrewdly. “Gentlemen, what we’re seeing is something extraordinary. This is much bigger than a rag-tag bunch of dissatisfied Raks. Jack undoubtedly has a connection with the valley. If he isn’t a time traveler, why would he head there? The monkeys and bears must also come from a former age. It’s logical to conclude that the valley has something to do with time travel.”
He thoughtfully rubbed his beard. “But this is an extraordinary opportunity as well. I want to find out the secret of time travel and if I do, nothing can stop me!”
“Then we shouldn’t attack the valley directly. We need to capture, not destroy it,” pronounced the national security advisor.
“Yes. Let us gather all our troops at the plains and head to battle. We will destroy this raggedy-assed bunch of monkeys and bears and seize the valley.” His gaze circled the room. “And I want every one of you idiots on the battlefield.” They squirmed in their chairs. “What the hell are you waiting for?” He pointed to Jini. “She has more brains than the rest of you put together.” Jini beamed. The group scattered.
As Contog was about to leave, President Kallin stopped him. “General, come here.”
Contog marched up slowly. “Yes sir. What can I do for you?”
President Kallin smiled thinly. “You have been quiet. You usually have some ideas to share with us”
“I’m sorry sir, I was totally stumped.”
“Do you know something that the rest of us don’t?”
“What do you mean?”
The president glared at him. “Are you sharing everything with us?”
Contog’s eyes narrowed. “You have everything—all my reports, my data.”
President Kallin glanced at the national security advisor. “Do you have it?”
The advisor opened a briefcase and pulled out a red tablet. Contog’s face turned white.
“Can you tell us what this is?” demanded the Hand of God.
Contog stared down at the floor resignedly. His life just ended.
“I will have your head for this,” shouted Kallin.
Contog raised his head and stared fearlessly at Kallin. “Do what you want. I am prepared to die.”
Kallin laughed. “You think I will let you off so easily? You will be shot only when I am finished.”
“What can you want from me? You already have everything.”
“Except for one thing—your connection with that traitor Jack. What do you know about time travel? What is the secret of the hidden valley?”
“I know nothing about that.”
Kallin slammed his fist on the desk. “You’re lying. When you spoke to Jack you always turned on the cloaking device. Where did he get the coordinates for the rebel base, if not from you?”
“It is true I gave him the coordinates, but I don’t know anything about time travel or the valley.”
“How convenient that the rebel camp is so close to the valley?” Kallin addressed the national security advisor. “Give us a live feed.” The advisor swiped a tablet and images of the base in flames came up. “As we speak, all the rebels on your database are being sought out and executed. Your puny rebellion is over. By the end of the day, there will be nothing left of it except for you.”
Kallin got up and grabbed the pale general by the jacket. “This is the fate of all rebels. When I’m finished with you, you will end up the same way.” Growling, tore the stars off his epaulets, ripped the ribbons from his uniform, snatched the cap off the general’s head and crushed it with his boot. “Guards, throw him in jail.”
* * * * *
Kallin angrily scratched his beard. “I want to have the secret for time travel! I want it now!”
“So what are you going to do?” questioned the national security advisor.
“I want all our armies, every airplane, every soldier, to go into battle and take control of the valley once and for all.”
“Is that wise? There are dangers. We need troops here.”
“I don’t care,” raved the Hand of God. “I want to have this power—it’s the only thing I don’t possess. I will have it and I don’t care what it takes. Get my personal aircraft ready. I am going to finish this job myself.”
* * * * *
Shambala, End of Kali Yuga
The brothers looked out on the plains, silent in the early morning sun. Only six hundred monkeys and bears remained of the Avatar’s once proud army.
“The enemy will return,” mentioned the Avatar to Hanuman, “and in greater numbers. Fortunately, we avoided defeat. Strangely, as the evening progressed, the stronger they became.”
“So what will we do?” questioned Steve, his voice expressing concern. The two hardened warriors laughed. Kalki Avatar blew into his transcendental conch shell and as the long notes echoed back from the hills and reverberated into the pass, a huge army took shape on the plains, as if they always stood there, invisible to the eye, waiting for a signal to materialize. Steve’s jaw dropped. Were they real? How did they appear out of nothing?
Kalki laughed at Steve’s surprise. “Look—do you see the great heroes—Dristaketu, Dristadyumna, Jayatsena and the others?” Tall, imposing figures stood in front of their armies, surrounded by their generals. “Just like Hanuman, these soldiers are my eternal associates,” he continued, “and are never separated from me. They helped the previous avatars and they will appear in the future.”
The armies of the Heroes, in total a million soldiers, dressed in the colors of their nations, with weapons in hand, their pennants flying in the air, appeared like an immense, colorful human carpet on the brown dust of the steppes, their beautiful gilded armor shining like jewels in the sun. The Avatar raised his arm and the armies fell silent.
“Illustrious Heroes,” he announced. “Your presence here at the end of Kali Yuga is greatly auspicious and brings the assurance of victory.” The armies sounded in approval, their voices like a million lions roaring.
“With righteousness, morality and the blessings of our elders, the enemy is already defeated. All you need to do is act. But our adversary is proud and arrogant. He hasn’t thrown his full force against us and, in his madness, believes he can defeat us and overtake Shambala. His goal is to learn the secrets of the yogis and the rishis by force.”
Laughter flooded the armies.
“This dictator wants to foolishly become a yogi by violence. To acquire the secrets of the yogic siddhis, he only has to learn humbly at the feet of the gurus, devoid of all personal motives and free of bad qualities such as lust, greed, envy, and anger. But unfortunately, these men, whose consciousness is corrupted, will never have a peaceful mind, the first requirement in the practice of yoga.
“But be warned. The enemy has mighty armies, powerful weapons and will use everything he possesses. So let us occupy the land in front of us, let us dig entrenchments in the valley and let us fortify the high places. When he attacks, we will be ready.”
Upon hearing this message, the prodigious army cheered wildly and set forth to prepare for the great battle.
“Maybe we aren’t in such bad shape after all,” Steve said to his brother.
For once, Jack remained speechless.
* * * * *
In Shambala, Parvata Rishi paced nervously. The lovely sunrise did not bring him peace.
“Father,” asked Shanti, “what is it?”
The old man glanced sorrowfully at his daughter. “Shanti, in my mind I see the enemy bringing forth an even greater army, their numbers and weapons far too many to count. I am afraid that we are in for a severe test.”
“So what should we do?” exclaimed the young woman.
“Let us help the Avatar.” He went into his shelter and returned with one of his texts. “This is the Vaimanika shastra. It describes flying craft called vimanas, which are created and controlled by the mind.”
He went to the meadow near the river, the scene of their previous yajnas, while his daughter corralled the rest of the community. Four yogis sat at each cardinal point, about fifty feet from each other and engaged in deep meditation. The other sages circled them, chanting the Vaimanika shastra, while the rest of the community sat listening in an outer circle. The sound purified the place, creating an invisible shell of intensity and softness above and around them where their thoughts would manifest into reality. The power of their tapasya, their austerity, created an intense heat that escaped from their minds and filled the sacred space above while the drone of the mantras took this energy and created out of it seven types of vimanas.
Shanti’s jaw dropped. Flying craft, from the smallest to the largest, floated at seven levels above. Their extraordinary beauty captured her admiration. Several hundred vimanas, looking very much like enormous soup bowls, made of shiny purple ceramic, each about four feet wide and two deep, moved in a wide circle above, almost within grasp. She laughed. They almost looked like flying toilets.
A few dozen vimanas, elongated flower buds with large petals in shades of red and yellow, entwined with large green leaves, floated twenty feet above. Each measured nine feet long and Shanti giggled out loud at their appearance, their strangeness and beauty, unlike anything she ever saw. A hundred feet above them, vimanas resembling large fragile bubbles materialized, full of colors, spinning rapidly. Suspended in the blue sky, spinning at incredible speed, they hardly resembled war vessels but rather innocent soap bubbles at children’s playgrounds.
A hundred feet further up, several dozen vimanas looking like floating balls of liquid mercury, rolled in the wind and changed shapes like amoebas, glinting in the sun. Each craft appeared more fantastic than the one before. A half dozen of the fifth type, solid giant crystals of some unknown mineral, each about three hundred feet long, resembling cylindrical obelisks with pyramid-shaped heads, sparkled a brilliant rose-red as the sun shone through their monolithic, gem-like structures.
Several hundred feet above these flew the sixth type of vimana, appearing like huge metallic birds the size of large houses, with brilliant plumage, big shiny beaks and wings gliding out of their bases. At least a hundred of these giant vimanas glided high in the sky, flapping on thin, shiny metallic wings.
The last type of vimana, of which only one appeared, resembled a heavenly palace a mile in radius, floating high above all the rest, too big to be anywhere close to the valley. Shanti couldn’t make out much of its features, though she observed a wall all around it and an immense gold pyramid in its middle extending far into the sky.
“Father,” she exclaimed, “they’re all beautiful!”
“And deadly, too.”
Shanti eyed her father. “I want to pilot one of these vimanas.”
“It is too dangerous,” objected her father.
“If my future husband can go to war, should I not be by his side?”
“But have you thought of the consequences?”
Shanti’s eyes narrowed with determination. “Yes. And I want to go.”
The sage saw no point in arguing with her. His daughter had never contradicted him. It was a bittersweet moment. Despite his pride in her determination and maturity, the understanding that his girl belonged to someone else still stung. Her heart had gone elsewhere. Everything had changed.
Shanti realized her father’s feelings. Tenderness for her father shaded her eyes and she quickly embraced him. “Don’t worry. I will always love you. But please let me go.” He nodded his head sadly.
A hundred young men and women gathered around Parvata Rishi. The old man dipped his head gravely and handed out slips of parchment with verses written on them to Shanti and the others. “Some of these vimanas need no pilot, but others do. Reciting these mantras will create energies in your brain that guide these ships. Any thought will automatically transform into action—that is, actions of these flying craft. Once absorbed in these incantations, you will be instantly transferred into the ships.”
* * * * *
“What is that?” shouted Hanuman. “It resembles rain clouds descending in the monsoon season, drenching the earth for months on end.” A cloud of dust two hundred feet high smudged the distant horizon.
Lord Kalki stroked his chin gravely. “Hanuman, that is our enemy. And surely the land will be soaked, not with life-giving water, but with the blood of brave soldiers on both sides. How much destruction can one man’s ambition cause?” He shook his head. “Truly, materialistic desires always end in defeat.”
Slowly but surely, a vast army of several million foot soldiers, battalions of mechanized armor, gigantic guns capable of firing shells across vast distances, rockets and fearsome black howitzers men headed toward them across the flat lands. Beyond them, their lights blinking in the sky, flew hundreds, if not thousands, of airplanes. The sight of this magnificent, unparalleled, army took Hanuman’s breath away.
“Hanuman-ji,” asked the Avatar. “This is the army we have to face. Are you feeling any fear?”
“Lord,” replied the great monkey general. “Let them come. If I die, I will take a million of them with me. I will make them taste death, by your mercy.” Kalki Avatar swelled at his devotee’s bravery.
As he peered into the distance, Hanuman noticed a strange sight. A large platform, about a hundred feet on each side, floated in the air above the enemy army, accompanied by black, silent helicopters, three above, and on each side. On it stood several dozen officers and crack troops, weapons in hand pointing outwards. Twenty feet above, on another stage connected by a ladder to the first one, stood a solitary man in green dress uniform, his jacket covered with assorted medals and ribbons, his head boasting a helmet decorated with six stars.
“Who is that?” questioned Hanuman.
“It is the dictator!” exclaimed Kalki. “He has taken an unnecessary risk. His avarice has gotten the better of him!”
“Good,” exclaimed Hanuman. “Let him die on this battlefield, murdered by his greed.”
* * * * *
When the sun positioned itself high over the battlefield, Steve observed a group of men, obviously Kallin’s generals, drive in front of their troops. They raised their binoculars and spied on Kalki Avatar’s army. Steve wondered at their thoughts. Did the strength of the forces arrayed against them surprise them? Did they hesitate upon seeing the mighty Heroes? Did they recognize the divinity of the Avatar?
An alarm like an air raid signal wailed and Kallin’s army came to life. They cheered loudly, waved weapons in the air, shouted in excitement and rushed headlong into battle.
Across the divide, Kalki raised his prodigious conch shell to his lips. The sound started slowly, increased in volume and length until finally, it swelled in the valley and resounded to the mountain tops. The great Heroes followed suit and the wonderful sound of a host of conch shells blowing simultaneously filled the air. A great roar escaped from the throats of the multitudes, their voices flying across the plains. With remarkable energy, the monkeys and bears rushed into the fight, followed by the armies of the Heroes, flames spouting out of their deadly weapons.
Steve scanned the horizon, and sure enough, the sky filled with hundreds of black spots, approaching rapidly. If they attacked the Avatar’s troops unhindered, surely all would be lost. Still wearing flying clothes and flashing swords, he shot up into the air, followed by Jack, shooting straight at the advancing aircraft, swinging his sword. The airplanes came at them, their cannons blasting. Suddenly, this looked like a lost cause.
Unexpectedly, the aircraft veered off into different directions, scattering like a flock of doves when confronted by a hawk. Steve stopped in mid-air, confused. He turned around and saw some of the most fantastic craft possible lined up behind him. The flower vimanas, with their brilliant red and orange petals, crested over the mountain tops, swept down to the plains and hovered over the enemy army. As Kallin’s soldiers gazed in enchantment, the beautiful flower craft spit out small black seeds. The men picked up the seeds inquisitively, and scoffing, threw them down. As soon as the seeds touched the ground, huge vines sprouted up and instantly entangled the soldiers; so tightly that they couldn’t move a single muscle. They died on the vines, asphyxiated in no time at all. To the pilots of the other vimanas, a part of the battlefield appeared as a patch of thick green weeds with occasional faces of Raks, contorted with fear, looking up through the greenery like small pink buds in dark flower beds.
