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It was dark. Electricity may be accessible everywhere in this day and age, even the remotest corner of the earth as long as it is inhabited by people, but it is one of the first things to go in times of natural calamity. The artificial lighting used for the camp was minimal and sharply contrasted with the blackness that engulfed it all around.
It seems there cannot be enough reminders of how puny humans are when pitted against the uninhibited might of nature. But the hubris of man makes him forget soon enough. It is like a rinse-and-repeat cycle - inefficient, yet seems destined to happen time and again.
When artificial intelligence-aided weather prediction models became operational, they were promptly introduced to ring the warning bells in these zones. But what was the degree of success? One needs to reevaluate the definition of success when describing the ability of these systems to pre-empt loss of lives and resources - such is the randomness and ruthlessness of nature’s forces.
The fabric of the tents swayed at the chilly gusts of wind as if like a ghost in doubt over its own fragile existence. Evidence of life was at a bare minimum considering the lateness of the hour and the fact that the camp was a mobile center for disaster management operated by an overworked skeleton crew and several ultra-advanced drones.
But life, however tenuous might be its manifestation, goes on until the final extinguishing of the spark. Bhrigu looked at his companion’s sedate expression which was incongruent with their situation. Sacchit was mending slowly and Bhrigu did not know how to pass the time on his own, especially with no endpoint in view.
He remembered that first time when his affinity towards the drones and the AMA (advanced medical assistant) autobot failed to go unnoticed or uncommented. Soon, a pesky problem had presented itself. The Man-in-Charge had his interests piqued. With a curious twinkle in his narrowing eyes, he had point-blank invited Bhrigu to satisfy his curiosity.
Without having to be told, Bhrigu had intuited the need for caution against attracting unwanted attention. Luckily, the Man-in-Charge had many matters to attend to. But he came back with repeated offers which also included the promise of his personal company and guidance. There were a few times when they had almost sounded genuine too. These were the hardest to refuse.
Bhrigu’s determination belied his age. He had, with some effort, managed to avoid being alone with the Man-in-Charge. He still indulged in observing the drones in action whenever he could without getting detected. Studying the autobot was easier because his presence while the doctor was attending to Sacchit was within expectation.
The situation was resembling a stalemate, but, with Sacchit still drifting in and out of consciousness, Bhrigu did not know what moves he was left with. How would Sacchit want him to act? He could steal the medicines they were giving to Sacchit and sneak him out of the camp in the dead of the night. But would it not violate his code of ethics? And even if there was a way around it, then what? Where would they go? Why was it taking so long for Sacchit to get better? When would he take control again and instruct Bhrigu on his next steps?
With no answers forthcoming that would satisfy everything neatly, he focused his attention outside the tent, taking in the signs of life going about the usual morning rituals of breakfast and the start of another slow grinding workday of healing and rebuilding.
The days and nights were not governed by the sun anymore, for Sacchit. When he opened his eyes, whenever he did, seemed light, and everything else was dark. Some part of his brain knew the light he saw was not always natural but too much thinking, when he had too little time in the light, was not feasible. So, he had resigned himself to the simplicity of the binary. And when the dark came inevitably, he did not resist.
Lately, there had been hardly any time in the light that did not also coincide with another presence. It was a local face but not of any villager Sacchit had once or twice seen during his rare and brief lucid moments. It could have been the Man who had welcomed them to the camp. As much as he could remember in his diminished capacity, the Man had given the impression of a nice smile.
It must have been daytime again or Sacchit was awake. It all meant the same to him anyway. The mask-like face he was seeing was not unfamiliar. But now it looked hard and cold and scary, stripped of any veneers of friendliness. It was the Man. He looked sly and devious staring at Bhrigu while curtly talking to the doctor fussing over Sacchit. This struck a chord. This was not the first time. He suddenly felt shaken, then numb, then spent, and then it was all over.
Two figures moved slowly through the forest. The child dragged his almost comatose companion with an effort that was making him breathless by the step. He knew they needed to keep moving. He knew they were not safe but he could not go any faster. He knew they would not survive without help again soon, especially his companion who had been switching between a fugue state and complete unconsciousness every few minutes.
The small bits of sky that could be seen through the clearing of the towering trees indicated dawn was not far off. He knew they would have to stop because the chances of discovery and capture were greater during the day. He propped up his companion against a tree and sank to the ground. Hunger was maddening but the thirst was worse making him almost forget how hungry and tired he was.
Both figures slept and the child dreamed of the transparent river that was their destination. His thoughts also conjured shelter and human company and food and a soft bed – none of which they had known ever since they left the lab and its surrounding village. The darkness of sleep obliterated the reality that the rising sun and brightening day brought and threatened.
In his dream state, he was a boy no more but all grown up. Yet, he felt powerless and strangely weighed down by a languid lightness of being. He wanted to wake up but it was so much easier to sleep on. He had a sense of some pervading danger that he wanted to save his companion from. He perceived some changes in their surroundings and situation that he could not understand but it seemed he could leave all the thinking and planning to his companion while he rested.
Bhrigu once again evaluated the pros and cons of being in the camp over staying in the broken-down village where they had first sought shelter. Definitely, the chances of Sacchit recovering were higher in a place that had a doctor and an AMA, rather than among the barely-surviving few dozen locals whose chief source of healing in life-threatening situations still reverted to old customs. How effective could be herbs over modern medicine, especially if recommended by a village elder whose competence and credibility relied largely on her grandmother being a witch doctor and her showing similar inclinations?
So, the camp, even with all its potential pitfalls, was logically better. But, if he had been able to process the concept of morbid thinking which he could not, Bhrigu would have to conclude that better might not always mean safer.
The increased activity of the drones made Bhrigu sneak a look out of the tent. The afternoon did not seem any busier than usual but the various capabilities of the drones never failed to fascinate him. The strange urge to get closer to the drones, get familiar with them, take them apart, study, and learn although his curiosity courted danger was something that he could not explain.
When it happened, Bhrigu sensed the movement as different from the other times and did not understand how he knew that. His intuition was evolving but this sense of bonding was accentuated like never before. He looked into Sacchit’s eyes, still masked with pain but clearer than ever since his near-death experience. No sound came out of the barely moving lips of his companion, but Bhrigu knew what he wanted. He helped Sacchit up into a half-sitting position in his makeshift bed and brought him water. Still grimacing in pain, Sacchit’s hoarse voice uttered the first words in more than a week.
“We have to go…before he finds out…”
Bhrigu did not need to be told twice. He was not prone to idle contemplation. So, when he had been thinking about running away, he had simultaneously been preparing too. Checking outside their tent so that they would not be surprised and stopped, he quickly helped Sacchit into his clothes and shoes. Shadows were beginning to creep in as the daylight faded and none of the drones overhead. The Man-in-Charge’s growling voice could be heard at a distance. He was busy for the moment menacing one of the underlings. No time like the present.
Carrying most of Sacchit’s weight, Bhrigu led the way out of the tent into the coniferous woods adjoining the camp. Sacchit slowed them down but his condition was still light years ahead of what it was after the accident, so Bhrigu adjusted his pace instead of dragging his companion along.
Dinner and medicine time were still a couple of hours away, and, with some luck, their disappearance would not be discovered before then. It would have been nice and easy to go back to the village, slowly being rebuilt as he had heard in the camp. But it would not be safe from the meddlesome Man-in-Charge and his army of drones. The unpredictability of the jungle posed a risk but also made the inevitable search party less effective.
Sacchit stumbled against the exposed roots of a tree and although Bhrigu broke his fall, a look at his companion’s pale, sweaty face made him agree to stop and rest for a bit. The jungle at night has a strange silence and sounds that seem suffocating if there is nowhere to go back to and nowhere to look forward to. The living, breathing entity towered over a loneliness that could not but daunt the exhausted mind of Sacchit as he longed to go back to sleep. The last thing he remembered was Bhrigu shaking him but he was grateful that soon it was all over and he was left alone in his oblivion!
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Co-written with @Ani
