A 2003 Captain
Scarlet and the Mysterons End-Credits-Pictures Challenge Story
by Tiger Jackson
As consciousness returned, Captain Scarlet swallowed hard and painfully. His throat ached, and he could feel deep bruises forming. A wave of dizziness washed over him. Eyes still shut, Scarlet tried to run a self-assessment. By the feel of things, he was sitting on the ground, leaning against a fragrant but rather lumpy tree. He tried moving and discovered his ankles were bound, as were his wrists, pulled painfully behind him. What had happened? How had he ended up here? Wherever here was.
He concentrated. Ah, he remembered. Spectrum
Intelligence had learned of terrorist threats against the Ganges River in India,
but the nature of the threats was unclear. Colonel White had dispatched him to
Delhi where he was to rendezvous with the local agent, Captain Umber.
He’d arrived in Delhi and checked into the
Imperial Hotel. The desk clerk had given him an envelope containing the
directions to the meeting place. It was too far to walk, and Captain Scarlet was
not anxious to manoeuvre the Spectrum saloon car through the unfamiliar streets
again. It was easier to hire a rickshaw to take him to the address Umber had
given him.
The ride was rather
pleasant. The thick press of vehicles eased as the road widened and became
tree-lined. The houses became palatial, with imposing gates and extensive
gardens. The driver slowed, searching for numbers, and finally stopped. This was
it. Scarlet checked the directions again. A portion of this house’s gardens was
kept open for the public to visit. The entrance was a little further up the
road; he could find it easily, so he paid the driver and sent him away.
The street was very quiet. No cars, no people.
Nothing to disturb the tranquillity of the magnificent garden he found himself
in. No one was there to meet him yet, but he was early. He’d been strolling past
a wall when he was attacked from behind. Something long and narrow had whipped
around his neck before he could react. Strong hands had pulled on the ends of
the garrotte and a knee was thrust into his back, increasing the pressure on his
throat. He’d tried to fight but his attacker was skilled; he’d been rendered
senseless within seconds.
Captain Scarlet grimaced; it was out of character
for him to let his guard down. At least he was still alive, that was something.
And surprising. The attacker could have killed him, but he hadn’t. Why not?
Scarlet shifted his position slightly, trying to
get comfortable. He opened his eyes a slit. Then he opened them wide as he saw
something move out the corner of his eye. The hissing cobra that was swaying
before his face opened its jaws.
********************************************
The small, battered car paused before the
Imperial Hotel long enough for the doorman’s glare to make its paint peel. As
the desk clerk emerged and walked up to the car, the doorman growled something
about having his ride meet him at the tradesmen’s entrance in future. The clerk
climbed into the car and made a gesture that could be interpreted as either a
farewell wave or a rude suggestion as the car pulled away from the kerb.
“Everything is packed?”
“Of course, Daman,” snorted the front-seat
passenger sarcastically. “You gave us plenty of time to do it. We brought
the important things,” he continued, counting off on his fingers. “All the
fireworks. Hiking boots. Some camping gear and supplies. We couldn’t fit
everything in the boot. I just wish we’d had time to call Giriraj and tell him
to come to Delhi or meet us in Gangotri so he could guide us into the mountains,
instead of us having to rely on his map. But there’s no way he can get there
before us now, not all the way from Calcutta.”
“What was all the rush about, Daman?” asked Balin,
the driver, as he tried to peer around the vehicle in front of them.
“Captain Scarlet arrived today and collected that
map I told you about. With a name like that, and an invitation to tour a garden,
I expected a woman or maybe a retired military man. He turned out to be a young
Spectrum officer.”
The third man, who was seated beside Daman, looked
confused. “Spectrum? What’s that?”
“It’s a new world-security organization, Sudama.
You’d know that if you hadn’t missed the last meeting.” He curled his lip as he
glared at the feckless Sudama. “Somehow Spectrum must have learned about our
plans. It’s the only reason I can think of for a Spectrum officer to suddenly
turn up in Delhi and then go off to look at a garden. He must have planned to
meet someone there for more reasons than looking at flowers.”
Narsimha, who was sitting beside the driver,
turned and nodded. “So that’s why you ordered Anirvan to go there and kill him.”
Sudama shook his head. “I never would have thought
of that.”
Daman sneered. “That’s why I’m a lieutenant in the
Neo-Thuggee, Sudama, and you’re just a foot soldier.” He was pleased to see his
victim cringe in humiliation.
“But if he’s dead, why do we have to rush to
Gamukh? Why didn’t we just report about Spectrum and wait for orders?” asked
Balin, as he swerved to avoid a bullock. “We could have used the time to get
proper orders and a better plan from the commanders, and money to buy better
explosives instead of taking what was on hand.”
“Because now is the best time for us to act! And
the generals will be pleased with our initiative.” He waited for comments or
objections, but none came. “Two good things about this war with China,” he
continued. “The government’s too distracted to pay any attention to rumours
about us. And the trails to the Gamukh Glacier are closed. That won’t stop us,
but we won’t have to worry about meeting anybody out there.”
********************************************
“Freeze!” yelled an unfamiliar voice.
Hardly necessary to tell him that, thought Scarlet. He had no intention of
moving.
Looking out the corner of his eye, Scarlet could
see a dark-haired, copper-skinned man dressed in white slowly approaching the
snake from behind. He stepped carefully with no wasted movement, concentrating
on the cobra. Then he struck, seizing it tightly just below its head with one
hand, lifting into the air, and, in the same smooth movement, grabbing the
furious snake’s lashing tail. Quickly, he carried it away and dropped it behind
a decorative wall, with an admonishment to go in peace.
The man returned to kneel by Captain Scarlet’s
side, drawing a Swiss army knife from one pocket as he did so. Swiftly he cut
through the bindings around Scarlet’s ankles. “Thanks,” rasped Scarlet
painfully, as he rolled on his side to allow the rope around his wrists to be
cut. “That was incredible, the way you handled that snake.”
The rescuer’s speech was cultured and educated.
“Not at all. My parents were zoologists. They taught me to respect Indian
wildlife. And how to handle it. Cobras are sacred to many people, so it is best
to treat them with respect.”
Scarlet rubbed his wrists. “I’m lucky you came
along.”
“Hardly luck, Captain. This is my garden. But I
was expecting to meet you under better circumstances.”
“Meet me?”
The man grinned broadly and extended a hand.
“Captain Umber. I gather you’ve had an adventure.”
Scarlet briefly described the attack on him before
a scream broke the air. From behind the wall, a teenage boy scrambled out
backwards before collapsing. He held up a bleeding arm as Umber and Scarlet
dashed over.
“The cobra,” said Scarlet grimly.
Examining the wounds on the teenager’s arm, Umber
agreed. “A spectacled cobra’s bite can kill in twenty minutes,” he added,
sounding resigned. “That isn’t much time to prepare for your next life.” The
youth’s eyes widened. Scarlet could see the pulse jumping in his neck above the
yellow silk scarf he wore.
“What were you doing there?” he barked.
The boy gritted his teeth and didn’t answer. He
tried to pull away, but Umber gripped his arm too firmly.
“Kali-Ma will not be pleased with your failure,”
growled Umber. “She’s not going to free you from samsara and allow you to
rest when you die.” The youth started and his eyes widened. Umber loomed over
him and stared, unblinking, down into his face. “No, you’ve failed so badly, you
haven’t got much hope of reincarnating as anything higher than an untouchable,
either.”
Scarlet glanced at his watch. “Seventeen minutes.”
“I will get the reward I deserve! My karma is . .
. is . . .” The teenager’s voice faltered. Sweat stood out on his face.
Umber shook his head. “So young. Such a pity. But
you have disappointed us.”
“Sixteen minutes,” said Scarlet.
“But I did as I was ordered! I tried to kill him!”
the youth shouted, pointing at Scarlet. “You stopped it!” Then his expression
changed. “I was being tested?” Neither man answered. The youth’s knees began to
tremble, then buckled; he sat abruptly down on the ground and began to cry. “I
have failed! How did I fail?”
“Obviously you didn’t follow instructions,”
snapped Scarlet. “Explain yourself. Start from the beginning.”
“What good is that now?” wailed the youth. “I’ve
failed!”
“Recognizing your errors and sins may improve your
karma,” declared Umber, who had not let go of the youth’s injured arm. “Perhaps
that is why the sacred cobra attacked you after you failed to attack me.”
The youth gulped as he tried to speak and began
coughing. Several more minutes passed before he recovered enough to speak
rapidly in Mewati Hindi. Umber listened intently and occasionally rapped out a
question, while Scarlet kept watch on the time.
“Five minutes.”
The young man
blanched and wept as he lay down and folded himself into a semi-foetal position.
He nodded in response to one last question from Umber. “That’s all, then,” said
the Indian captain. The youth spoke again, so softly that Umber had to bend over
to hear him. “Yes, I think you’ll be all right now. I think your karma’s gotten
much better. Your sins might be forgiven”
There was a sigh, and the youth closed his eyes. Captain Scarlet noted that his
pulse and breathing had evened out and showed no signs of slowing. In fact, the
boy appeared to be merely asleep. He raised an eyebrow at Captain Umber, who
shrugged. “He’s only fainted. Too much terror, I suppose.”
“I’d be terrified if I was the one dying from a
cobra’s bite.”
“He probably isn’t dying,” Umber said placidly.
“What I said about the cobra’s bite was true. But,” he continued, “chances are
the cobra’s bite was a dry one. And it’s rare for death to occur as rapidly as I
said. Still, it seemed a shame to waste the opportunity to get information.”
“I gathered you were doing something of the sort.
What did he tell you?”
“A most interesting story.” Umber frowned. “But
first I need to make some phone calls. One to a contact who is watching the
Thuggee and might be able to acquire some information for us. And another for an
ambulance to collect our young acquaintance. Just in case.” He peered at
Scarlet. “And you should have your own injuries seen to.”
After the ambulance had gone, and Captain Umber
had changed into his Spectrum uniform, the men sat down to talk. Captain Scarlet
had refused medical treatment, but though his throat was still painful, he found
speaking less difficult than it had been. Umber poured two cups of hot, spicy
tea.
“That yellow scarf with the knotted ends my
attacker was wearing. He’s a neo-Thug, isn’t he?” asked Scarlet. Umber affirmed.
“In my briefing on Cloudbase, I was told that a terrorist group has threatened
an attack on the Ganges. Pardon,” he said, recalling the preferred Indian name,
“Ganga River. I was told you would fill me in on the details. The attack
on me suggests that the Neo-Thuggee are involved.”
Umber looked grave. “The Neo-Thuggee intend to destroy the Ganga River itself, at its source.” He laid out some photographs and unrolled a topographical map of India and the surrounding countries, and pointed to a spot in the Himalayas, just below the Chinese border. “The river rises here, from a cave beneath the Gamukh Glacier,” he explained. “There is very little development up there. Few villages. No roads. Just trails. The glacier can only be reached on foot.”
“That would limit the terrorists’ options,”
observed Scarlet. “How do you think they plan to destroy the river?”
“They could poison it. The water would disperse
the toxins, killing much of the wildlife and fauna, as well as many people, and
ruining the land it irrigates.”
“But that would require massive amounts of
chemicals, and many people to carry them.” Scarlet considered a moment. “Unless
they could use a helicopter?”
Umber shook his head. “Not likely. That close to
the border, either the Indian Air Force or the Chinese would probably attack it.
And as you can see,” he handed Scarlet a picture, “the land there is very rocky.
It would be difficult for even a skilled pilot to find a suitable place to land,
and nowhere close to the cave.”
“So we can assume they’ll have to proceed on foot.
And whatever they intend to use to destroy the river has to be both portable and
effective.” Scarlet and Umber drank their tea in silence as they thought.
“To destroy a river,” mused Scarlet, “it has to be
stopped. Or stopped up.” He sat up abruptly. “Damn the river!”
“I beg your pardon?” a startled and offended Umber
snapped. He would not allow a curse on the sacred river to go unredressed.
“A dam! A dam would stop the river’s flow, or at
least divert it.” He reached for a photograph. “Look at the mouth of the cave.
There are plenty of boulders to climb on to reach up the sides of the inside
cave. And the outside roof is very accessible. The Thuggee could easily create a
dam by bringing down the roof and walls, thereby sealing the cave, with
explosives!” Scarlet exclaimed.
Umber picked up the thread of logic. “And a
relatively small number of people could carry in sufficient high-power
explosives to bring down half a mountain if the charges are well-placed.”
“The undamaged part of the cave would confine the
river.” Scarlet looked again at the photos of the glacier and the cave from
which the Ganga River rose. “Unless it manages to burst through the dam, the
water would back up beneath the glacier. Eventually it would undermine the
glacier and cause the ice to move forward quite rapidly. And when the glacier
moves, it will grind down everything in its path. Nothing can stop it.”
“It would melt some as it travelled, but the water
would flood what the ice did not crush. If the military tries to break it up
with bombs, they could create multiple smaller ice sheets. The path of
destruction could be hundreds of kilometres wide.”
Both men sat in silent horror, staring at the map
as they envisioned the potential extent of the disaster.
********************************************
“We brought all the ‘fireworks’ that were
available, and the ones that haven’t been processed yet. But the red sticks
shouldn’t stand out too much, not enough to be recognised,” said Balin.
“It was wise of the leaders to have us disguise
the sticks of dynamite.”
“They all would have been disguised if
you’d worked faster, Sudama,” grumbled Narsimha.
“It didn’t seem right to glue that colourful,
festive paper around them,” ventured Sudama meekly. “I didn’t understand what it
was for. It made them so pretty, it’s a shame to blow them up.”
Narsimha rolled his eyes. “Do you think we could
carry dynamite openly in the streets without anyone noticing? Fireworks are
common enough that hardly anyone pays attention.”
“What worries me,” said Balin, “is, will the
fireworks be powerful enough? They weren’t intended to destroy something as big
as a cave, just smaller targets at the markets and around government offices.”
“They’ll work,” replied Daman confidently. He
explained that Mata Ganga’s cave, out of which the river flowed, was not really
a solid structure; the rock would have fissures to exploit, and they could use
the sacred picks they always carried to make holes for planting dynamite as
well. Kali would be pleased if the symbol of her sacred tooth was used to prick
at Ganga, rather than her Lord Shiva. The other Thuggee laughed at the ribald
imagery before Daman continued. The dynamite would be more powerful blown up in
bundles than as individual sticks. Anyway, they would have more time and privacy
to work on planting the explosives to do maximal damage than they would if the
target was in the heart of Delhi.
The goddess Kali, claimed Daman as his companions
listened in awe, had given him a clear choice by arranging for him to be on duty
when that Spectrum captain had collected his messages: they could spend either
time or money on destroying the Ganga. If they’d waited for more money and a
contact to buy gelignite, the opportunity would have been lost. India and China
might resolve their differences, and the borderlands would be reopened to
pilgrims and tourists; then there would be many potential witnesses to deal
with. And Spectrum was investigating something, possibly hunting the Thuggee. It
might take them more time to plant a larger quantity of weaker explosives, but
Kali would smile on their efforts and see that they were generously rewarded for
their wisdom in seizing the ideal time to act as well as the act itself.
********************************************
The phone rang. Umber answered it and
remained on the line for some time. After hanging up, he left the room and
returned with an armful of maps and photographs. “My contact says that a small
party of Thuggee loaded a car with what they jokingly called ‘fireworks’ and
have already left Delhi, heading east by car, towards the main highway north.
Based on a few hints they dropped, he’s certain they’re going to the Gamukh
Glacier.” He spread out a road map of northern India and studied it. “There are
no roads to the glacier itself. But they can get to a village somewhere in its
vicinity: my guess is either Gangotri or Kedarnath. Gangotri is the nearest
that’s easily accessible by car, even though they’ll have to take some rural,
mountain roads to reach it.”
Captain Scarlet looked where Umber was pointing,
to a tiny village in the Himalayan Mountains, very near the border with Tibet.
“My briefing included an update on the political situation between India and
China. Tensions are escalating, aren’t they?”
“They are indeed.”
“I was stopped twice by routine road blocks on my
way here from the airport.” Captain Scarlet smiled wryly. “The car and my
uniform raised some questions. I got the impression that few people are aware of
Spectrum.”
Captain Umber shook his head. “That’s true. You
have to understand what is happening here, though; the government is trying to
deal with both domestic terrorists and the threat of war from China. Traffic
inspections are a key element in capturing terrorists and spies alike. Anything
unusual must be questioned.”
“And Spectrum is such a new organization, its
purpose is still not as well understood by national governments as we would
like,” added Scarlet. “It doesn’t make our job any easier. But my point is, if I
got stopped just coming to Delhi from the airport, how likely is it that the
Thuggee will encounter road blocks and checkpoints on the way to Gangotri?”
“A certainty. There are radical elements, besides
the Thuggee, who see opportunities for themselves if China prevails in a war,
and seek to aid them. So security has become much tighter the further north one
travels by road.”
“How do you rate the effectiveness of that
security?”
“Variable. Permeable. The security forces were
assembled and trained hastily. Some are over-dedicated, seeing a threat in every
stranger, which is just about everyone. Others are more lax. There’s no telling
what kinds they’ll encounter en route.”
“We’ll have the same problems if we try to go
overland, even with an SPV. Maybe especially with an SPV; it’s so obviously
military in design, we’d have to explain ourselves at length every place we
stopped. And if we tried going off-road, we’d simply draw even more attention.
We’ll have to use an alternative means of travel. What Spectrum aircraft are
available?”
Umber shook his head. “All non-commercial and
non-military aircraft have been grounded since this morning, Captain. The air
force has standing orders to shoot down anything that looks suspicious. I doubt
they’d make an exception for Spectrum craft, unless Cloudbase has raised our
profile since you arrived today.”
“Train?”
Umber smiled. “Not a good idea. It could take even
longer than the roads.”
“What about the river? Is it navigable up to
Gangotri?”
“No. The Yamuna doesn’t go as far north as the
Ganga does. And it bends in the wrong direction; we’d have to take the Ganga and
debark as near to Gangotri as possible. From there, I know we’ll have to hike to
reach the source of the Ganga, but I’m not familiar with the route. We’ll have
to arrange for a guide. There are several Spectrum agents in that area who’ve
been watching for signs of Neo-Thuggee activity; one of them may do.”
“Lieutenant Green can find out for us. Do we also
have to arrange for a vessel of some sort or does Spectrum have one here?”
“I have a private motor boat moored in the Yamuna;
I suggest we retrieve it and take it to the Ganga.”
Captain Scarlet nodded his agreement. “Pack what
you’ll need as fast as you can. Could you lend me some essentials? I left my
baggage at the hotel, but we can’t risk going back for it. Someone knew I was
going to be in your garden, and that attack with the cobra had to be arranged
quickly, so someone at the hotel must have informed the Thuggee. If I turn up
there alive, they’ll know that much sooner that the attack failed.”
“You’ll need something to wear besides your
Spectrum uniform, too. Given the approaching war, we are probably safer
remaining in uniform while we travel north on the river. We’re less likely to be
taken for spies or terrorists then, if only because neither spies nor terrorists
would wear such conspicuous colours. But on the roads, we’ll have an advantage
if we dress in plain clothes. We’re about the same size; fortunately. Come with
me and we’ll both find something suitable.”
As the two men left the house a short while later,
dressed in plain clothes and toting stylish, well-made canvas rucksacks, Umber
paused a moment to look over the house and gardens. “My grandparents built this
house. They worked many years to design and plant these gardens. My parents
cared for them almost as tenderly as their children.” He paused a moment,
reflecting. “When that young Thug recovers, he’ll tell his masters about me. I
probably won’t be able to come back here, not anytime soon at any rate. I’m not
sure who’ll take care of it after me.”
“I’m sorry.”
Umber shrugged. “I knew there would be sacrifices
when I joined Spectrum. A house is not the greatest of them.”
Umber’s driver had brought a late-model
Mercedes-Benz with a trailer hitch to the front gate. Umber dismissed him,
saying he preferred to drive himself today. Apart from the mundane furies of
Delhi traffic, which left Captain Scarlet white-knuckled but Captain Umber
unfazed, they reached the river without incident, and found Umber’s boat already
loaded on its trailer, waiting for them. Before hitching it up, the Spectrum
officers examined it for signs of sabotage, but found nothing wrong.
Once they were clear of the city and on the
highway towards Garhmuktesar, Captain Scarlet brought up the subject of the
neo-Thuggee. “If your informant was correct and the Neo-Thugee are headed up to
the source of the Ganga, it’s possible they’re travelling on this same road,
somewhere ahead of us. If we could catch up —”
Captain Umber shook him off. “There are
checkpoints on this road, just as there were from the airport. I doubt we’ll be
delayed as long as they will, but it isn’t likely we’ll catch up to them. They
have too good a head start on us.”
Captain Scarlet soon realized that Umber was quite
right. Too frequently, they had to stop for roadblocks. As in most places,
Scarlet noted, overt signs of wealth certainly made a good impression. Although
both men were casually dressed, their clothes were obviously well cut and
expensive. The boat they were towing was small, but sleek, and beautifully
fitted with polished woods. In Urdu and Hindi, Umber introduced Scarlet as a
British businessman whom he was entertaining before earnest negotiations for
investment in a major industrial project. The Brit had expressed an interest in
seeing the sights along the Ganga, sights best seen or visited by boat. The
explanation was plausible, in keeping with their facade, and at every point, the
police officers waved the Mercedes on without a search.
Between stops, the men talked. “That young Thug
who tried to strangle me. I thought Hindu gods usually aren’t much interested in
human affairs and don’t intervene to affect one’s afterlife or reincarnation.”
The Indian captain acknowledged that that was so. “Why was he so anxious about
his afterlife?”
“The neo-Thuggee are religious, or at least
they’ve undergone spiritual indoctrination. Their training mixes selected
aspects of Hinduism with elements from western belief systems, especially the
concept of sin and the belief that the gods and goddesses can rain rewards or
punishments before and after death for good deeds and sins. Your attacker truly
believed that he would go to Hell or worse because he failed to kill you and
didn’t attack me.”
“Another thing. He started talking without much
more persuading. Why did he seem to think we were people of authority?”
“The Neo-Thuggee have a military structure with a
shadowy top echelon. Discipline and obedience are drilled into the recruits.
They’re impressed with the belief that the leaders know each and every one of
them, and that the skill and loyalty of any of them might be tested at any time,
although they aren’t told how or when that could be. But most of the lowest
members have never seen the commanders, the ones who give the orders and make
the plans. I presented myself as if I was one of those leaders, and the young
Thug leaped to a conclusion.”
Scarlet narrowed his eyes. “But why did he regard
me the same way? I’m obviously not Indian.”
“Don’t look at me so suspiciously, Captain. I am
not a Thuggee!” Umber’s voice was level, but Scarlet understood his offence.
“I have a contact in the Thuggee, a trustworthy young man who detests them, but
hopes to be a Spectrum agent. He was told early on that at least a few of the
people in charge of the organization are Europeans. It’s common knowledge among
the Thuggee. And they know that quite a bit of money comes from those white
leaders.”
Scarlet fingered the tender bruises on his neck.
“That still doesn’t explain why he left me alive when he could have strangled
me.”
“I told him to explain. He recited that a murder
would attract attention. A murder by strangulation might be blamed on the
Neo-Thuggee. But an accidental death? A man strolls about a garden, is bitten by
a cobra, and, tragically, falls where he cannot be easily seen by other casual
visitors or passers-by until it is too late.”
Captain Scarlet raised an eyebrow. “An accident?
The ropes would have been a giveaway.”
“I asked him why he tied you up. It was the boy’s
own idea. He was afraid you might regain consciousness and escape from the
snake. He intended to remove the ropes and take them away before he left, so he
had to stay and watch until you’d been bitten.”
“I suppose the symptoms of snakebite would be so
overwhelming that a doctor might overlook other injuries,” he mused. “Even so it
still seems too fantastic a plan to succeed. But then no one’s crediting the
Neo-Thuggee with excess intelligence.”
“No,” agreed Umber. “But the attack on you failed
only because I happened to arrive in time to stop it. And they have a fantastic
plan to destroy the Ganga.”
“Which we have to arrive in time to stop,” Scarlet
finished. They rode the rest of the way in contemplative silence.
Soon after they finally arrived in Garhmuktesar,
they were heading north on the Ganga River. When the scenery on the banks
finally gave way to cultivated farmland, the men changed into their Spectrum
uniforms. There would be no read blocks or inspectors to explain themselves to
on the river.
“There’s certainly no risk of being overheard out
here,” commented Scarlet. “Tell me what else you know about the Neo-Thuggee
cult.”
“It’s relatively small, but that’s not atypical
for a terrorist organization. Its known members are mostly young, hotheaded,
idealistic, fanatical without being above looking out for themselves, and not
well educated. That’s typical, too. They’ve named themselves after the historic
Thuggee cult, probably for the shock value, but they are more like the Pindhari,
both in organization and goals.”
Captain Scarlet had heard of Thuggee, but not
Pindhari. He listened with great interest as Umber continued.
“As you know, the Thuggee were a cult of religious
murderers. The rumal, the yellow scarf, was the sacred tool they used to
strangle their victims. These Neo-Thuggee, as they style themselves, not only
use rumals but also wear them as symbols. Their predecessors never
advertised their vocation, but,” Umber shrugged, letting his gesture speak. “The
Thugs effectively controlled the roads throughout the country as they murdered
and robbed in the name of the goddess of destruction, Kali. But they put aside a
large portion of their ill-gotten wealth for Kali. The Pindhari were also
predators, but they were more interested in personal gain. They were a body,
more like an army, really, of armed gangsters available for hire to anyone who
wanted them to terrorise enemies. They were organised like a military force, and
they didn’t look to a god or goddess, just their commanders. All they cared
about was being paid and paid well.”
“And like the Pindhari, the Neo-Thuggee terrorists
have effectively been hired by the European leaders.”
“They are also organized on a military model; if
there were more Thuggee, they could well become one of the most dangerous
terrorist groups in the world.”
“You said that their leaders or controllers
inculcate them with mongrel spiritual doctrines. That’s an effective way of
controlling the rank-and-file through their fears and greed. But it also makes
them vulnerable to outsiders, if we can find ways to exploit that weakness.”
“As with your would-be assassin.” They rode in
silence for a time. “They are fools to believe they can seize control of India,
even after precipitating a disaster,” Umber declared, with a contemptuous
gesture. “But the Neo-Thuggee are as fanatical as their historical forebears.
And they’ve been indoctrinated to sincerely believe that the goddess Kali will
reward them for the destruction they wreak. More likely the reward will come
from their backers.”
“Who are?” prompted Captain Scarlet.
Umber shrugged and made an exasperated sound. “I
don’t know who they are. I do know that they devised the plot to attack the
Ganga. But what will these backers gain from a disaster in India?”
“Could be several things. They must be spending a
lot of money to build and support their terrorist network. They probably see
opportunities to acquire even more wealth — perhaps in selling materials to
rebuild the country or feed and shelter the homeless and prevent disease from
spreading, or to snap up valuable possessions from refugees at bargain prices.
They might capitalise on panic and put their Thugs to work looting priceless
artefacts from museums scrambling to get treasures to safety before the ice or
floods arrives; in those circumstances, who will be able to keep track of who
moves an item or where it is moved to? It’s happened before.”
Captain Umber nodded. “They might want to do all
that, and take over the country, too.” Umber’s face closed and his demeanour
became stiff as he suppressed his anger. “There are rumours about a fanatical
group in England that wants to restore British dominion over India and bring
back the days of the Raj. It’s headed by one of the nation’s wealthiest
eccentrics.”
Captain Scarlet did not shrug off the notion. He
was well aware of what fanatics, especially well-financed fanatics such as the
Fathers of the Rebirth of the Imperial Raj, could potentially achieve. If he and
Umber failed to stop the terrorists at the Gamukh Glacier, India could soon be
in chaos, caught between the imminent war with China and the advancing glacier.
A group like the Fathers wouldn’t hesitate to seize the opportunity. Neither
would China and possibly other neighbouring countries.
Captain Scarlet activated his radio cap and called
Cloudbase. When Lieutenant Green answered, Scarlet informed him of the
terrorists’ presumed plans, and that he and Umber were on the way to Gangotri.
“We’ll have to rendezvous there with an agent who
can guide us to the Gamukh Glacier. We should arrive in Gangotri tonight. We’ll
need an update on the situation along the Chinese border as well.”
“Understood, Captain Scarlet. I’ll report back to
you shortly. Cloudbase out.”
Some long time passed before Scarlet’s epaulets
flashed green.
“Go ahead, Lieutenant Green.”
“Lieutenant Ash is stationed in Gangotri right
now. She’s familiar with different routes to the glacier, and says she’ll gather
everything to need for the journey. She’s staying at the Garwhal Mandal Vikas
Nigram guesthouse and will arrange rooms for you there. About the war, the
latest reports are that the situation along the Chinese border is getting worse,
sir. Talks have broken down. India has stationed some troops along the border,
but there’s no specific information on types, numbers, or locations.”
“Keep us informed of any changes.”
“S.I.G., Captain Scarlet. Cloudbase out.” He
turned to his colleague. “What else did your informant tell you about
the Thugs we’re after? What about descriptions? What kind of explosives are they
armed with?”
“He wasn’t able to tell me much. The men we’re
after are about as ordinary looking as they could wish to be; no distinctive
marks at all. He was able to describe the car.” Umber repeated what he had been
told about it. “As for the explosives, they’re simply sticks of dynamite.”
“Dynamite? The first time their car is searched at
a security checkpoint should be the last. The dimmest inspector should be able
to recognize dynamite.”
“If it looked like ordinary dynamite. But there’s
a chance it won’t be detected. The Thuggee have disguised them to look like
Roman candles, so unless the sticks are closely inspected or a bomb-sniffing dog
detects them, they might get through with them.”
“How likely is it that they would try to take back
roads and avoid the highway check points altogether?”
“Possible, but not likely I think. They’d spend
even more time trying to work their way north, and my informant seemed to think
that time was of the essence to them. And when they reach the far north, they
won’t have any choice but to stay on the main roads.”
They made steady progress up the river.
“The Gamukh Glacier is fairly close to the
Chinese border. I wish Cloudbase could give us more information about the
situation there. Some recent intelligence suggests that China intends to send a
strike force over the Himalayas from Tibet. I know, Captain,” Umber nodded at
the look of incredulity on Scarlet’s face, “it seems like an absurd thing to do
strategically; a waste of military resources. But China has resources to spare,
and a blow struck from an unlikely place, even a soft blow, would expose India’s
vulnerability and demoralize the people.”
“If there’s any activity in the region, Lieutenant
Ash will be aware of it and report to us when we meet her. How much further do
we have to go?”
“We’re not far from Rishikesh now. From
there, it’s about 250 kilometres to Gangotri. The Gamukh Glacier isn’t too far
beyond that, but I’m not sure how far.”
If it had been a pleasure trip, Captain Scarlet
would have been sorry they were near the end of this stage of their journey. The
scenery along the river had been impressive; fields, towns, temples, the sacred
bathing pools called ghats, even the ruins of old dam projects.
“Ah, now there’s a place I am familiar with! Over
there, on the western bank, is the Bhagirathi Tiger Preserve. It was established
only fifty years ago. My parents travelled there many, many times to study the
tigers.”
It was not a jungle, and not at all like many
people would imagine a tiger habitat to be. It was a forest of deciduous trees
and brushy undergrowth of grasses, saplings, and other flora.
“I hear another motor. There must be another boat
coming downriver. A fairly large one,” said the British captain.
A small Indian Navy gunboat rounded the bend.
Captain Umber and Captain Scarlet could see a sailor point to them and shout.
Umber was frustrated. “They’re too far away. I
can’t understand what he’s saying.”
“Whatever it is, it isn’t good!” replied Scarlet
as an emergency klaxon aboard the other vessel sounded. He saw a sailor unlash a
deck gun. “Get on the radio, tell them who we are.”
Umber did his best. The naval vessel’s radio
operator had never heard of Spectrum and was reluctant to give a message to the
ship’s captain. When they finally did speak to the captain, he, too, did not
recognize Spectrum. Because the outbreak of war was imminent, he had standing
orders to guard the river approach to the border and watch for suspicious
vessels travelling between Garhmuktesar and the border. Especially boats that
appeared to be carrying enemy spies or anyone who might aid the enemy. It was
suspected that militant terrorists would use the river to evade roadblocks. The
two men dressed in unfamiliar uniforms met those criteria.
“But we were in Garhmuktesar today! There was no
warning!” Scarlet pointed out.
A short burst of Hindustani followed by a sharp
click was his reply. Umber looked up. “Loosely translated, he said ‘tough.’”
A staccato stream of bullets chipped into their
boat as the sailor began firing the deck gun. Captain Scarlet swung the boat
towards the western shore and set its autopilot speed to keep the boat between
himself and Captain Umber as they dived into the river. Bullets pocked the water
near them as they swam for the shore, but neither man was hit before hauling
himself out of the water and disappearing into the trees.
Even a few yards into the woods, it was
surprisingly dark after the brilliant sunlight on the river. The flora seemed to
delight in grabbing at anything passing by. They could not, however, do much to
slow down the bullets that the gunboat continued to spray after the fleeing men.
The noise lessened, but neither Umber nor Scarlet assumed that the gunboat had
lost interest in them; its captain may have decided to land some of his men and
begin searching.
A grateful Captain Scarlet recalled how West Point
Cadet Paul Metcalfe had spent many hours training in forests, learning the
tricks of running quietly and keeping low. He burst into a small clearing. It
appeared to be muddy, probably from recent rains, but firm enough. He would be
more exposed to pursuers for a few seconds, but he glimpsed a well-defined trail
in the trees beyond. Deciding it would be worth the risk, Scarlet plunged into
the open. Almost immediately, he realized that the ground was far softer than it
had appeared. Unable to turn back, he trying leaping forward, but floundered as
the unstable green-tinted earth gave way beneath him. It wasn’t ordinary mud. It
was quicksand.
********************************************
Not now, thought Umber fiercely as his
epaulets flashed red. The tiger he was facing flicked its ears forward and
lifted its head as if pondering the meaning of the flashing lights and teeping
noises coming from the man.
********************************************
As calmly as possible, Captain Scarlet studied his
predicament. If Captain Umber didn’t respond soon, his chances of surviving were
abysmal. The leafy muck had the consistency of porridge and he was sinking
rapidly.
********************************************
Silently, Umber thanked his parents for teaching
him all about tiger behaviour. Even though he instinctively wanted to turn and
run from the tiger, or at least climb a tree, he backed away very slowly, never
taking his eyes off the big cat. It was wearing a radio collar, he noticed, but
it was old; it had been designed to function for a limited period until the
straps became worn, then loosened to allow the radio to fall off. Undoubtedly
the tiger was not unfamiliar with humans, but it didn’t seem especially friendly
either. It watched him warily, undecided about what it should do, the tip of its
tail flicking to reflect its indecision. Umber thought it might soon be
satisfied that he did not mean to harm it and leave. Or it might decide he was
worth the trouble to kill. You could never be certain with a tiger.
********************************************
Captain Scarlet’s second attempt to contact
Captain Umber brought no response. Scarlet couldn’t wait any longer for help
anyway. His best — his only — chance, he determined, would be to grab hold of
something and try to pull himself out. But reaching for anything would cause him
to sink even faster.
********************************************
The tiger laid its ears back as Umber’s epaulets
flashed and teeped again. It took a step forward, snarling. The man would have
groaned if he’d dared. Many naturalists had observed the white marks on the
backs of the tiger’s ears, but no one understood if the big cats communicated by
flashing those marks. Umber felt he had just discovered for certain that they
did. And the message the tiger read in his epaulets’ flashings wasn’t a polite
one.
********************************************
Captain Scarlet considered his next action
carefully. A banyan tree leaned out over the edge of the quicksand pool. Its
long, vine-like aerial roots were drooping, reaching for the ground so that they
could burrow and eventually produce new banyan trees. The nearest roots were
somewhat less than a meter above him. Normally, it would be well within his
reach but the leafy muck he had fallen into would not forgive any sudden or
violent movements. He stretched out an arm as slowly as possible, knowing that
the effort was causing him to sink, but unless help came, he had no choice. He
managed to just get his fingers around a root, and gripped it tight. It
stretched itself out as he began pulling. There was no more time to evaluate
risks. Captain Scarlet pulled his other arm up and grabbed the root as the
quicksand sucked him down until he barely had his face left exposed. Slowly, he
began to pull himself upward and out of the quicksand, hand over hand. It made a
querulous sound, as if angry and reluctant to give up its victim. When, he freed
his shoulders, he reached for and got hold of another root closer to what he
hoped was solid ground. Laboriously, he pulled himself along until he was
completely free of the quicksand. He lay panting, exhausted, for several
minutes, until he was disturbed by the umber-coloured flashing of his epaulets
and a deep growl.
Captain Scarlet looked up to see a tiger crouching
perhaps twenty feet away from him. It was clearly agitated, flicking its ears
flat and twitching its tail. It growled again, then roared, before charging
towards him.
********************************************
The car crept forward slowly, sandwiched in
front and behind by a lorry and another car. Balin beat his fist on the steering
wheel, wishing it was the horn. He’d bleated the horn at the first checkpoint
they’d come to, and Daman had convinced him not to do it again. He shuddered as
he remembered the feel of the rumal around his throat.
The inspectors at this checkpoint were being much
more thorough than any they’d encountered further south. They spent more time
talking to the people in the vehicles, and frequently looked under the tarps in
truck beds and inside car boots. Daman, who was now sitting in the front seat
beside Balin, cautioned his companions to stay silent unless directly
questioned, and even then to say as little as possible.
The lies rolled out easily. Daman put on his most
charming persona, the one he had honed as a hotel clerk, to tell the inspectors
they were on their way to a cousin’s wedding, and exchanged lewd banter with the
guards about the newlyweds’ activities after the festivities were done. Without
hesitation, he told Balin to hand over the key to the boot so it could be opened
and their luggage examined. Asked about the contents of the large, plain boxes,
Daman smoothly explained that they were carrying fireworks to set off during the
evening as part of the wedding celebration. When the inspectors opened the
boxes, they found only a quantity of colourful Roman candles, as promised. They
shut the boot again, and waved the Neo-Thuggee on.
********************************************
Knowing he couldn’t get to his feet fast enough,
Scarlet tried to roll out of the tiger’s way. It was impossible; he was caught
among the gnarly roots and trunks of the banyan tree. He steeled himself for the
attack when, to his surprise, the tiger suddenly disappeared.
A cloud of vapour rose from the ground where the
big cat had vanished. A tiger trap! thought Scarlet, as he rose and
carefully crept forward. The trap, he saw, was shallow, but the tiger was making
no effort to escape. It yawned hugely, exposing its impressive teeth, grunted,
then slowly collapsed.
“Hey!” shouted an unfamiliar voice. “Is there
anyone out there?”
Scarlet could tell someone was pushing their way
through the woods but he had no way of guessing who it might be. He began to
unholster his gun as a precaution, only to discover that it, like the rest of
him, was covered in leafy green muck. Well, there was no help for it now. He’d
have to rely on his hand-to-hand combat skills.
“Captain Scarlet!” declared Captain Umber as he
emerged from a clump of greenery. “Are you all right?”
Scarlet nodded. “I heard a strange voice shouting.
Have you seen anyone else?” As he spoke, several people garbed in khakis stepped
out from the brush behind Umber.
One stepped forward, hand extended. “Captain
Scarlet, I presume?” The man grinned from ear to ear. “I’ve always wanted to do
something like that!” he laughed. A woman next to him rolled her eyes.
“Kent, the tiger?” she said pointedly, as she
looked down into the pit.
“Oh, yes, of course. Right you are, Sheila.” He
flashed a beaming smile at Scarlet. “Did you meet up with Indira?”
“Indira?”
Kent reached into the pit and stroked the tiger.
“She’s quite a good girl, really.”
Umber shook his head at that, and turned to
Captain Scarlet. “I couldn’t answer your call,” he said apologetically. “While
running through the forest, I literally stumbled across Indira.” Umber explained
how he and the tiger had faced off until, unexpectedly, they had both heard an
explosive sneeze. The big cat had shot him a look he could only describe
asspeaking “some sort of feline obscenity,” before trotting off. Hardly a minute
later, a team of zoologists had appeared. They were employed by the preserve to
perform periodic check-ups on the resident tigers. They had been tracking a
different tiger when they heard the commotion out on the river. Suspecting
poachers, or worse, they’d changed course and headed into Indira’s territory. To
their surprise, they’d come across the thoroughly soaked Captain Umber. He
hadn’t wasted time explaining who he was or how he got there, beyond tersely
identifying himself as a Spectrum agent and telling them that he wasn’t alone,
that his companion, Captain Scarlet, had radioed for help, and the tiger had run
off in the direction Umber had last seen him running. The zoologists hesitated
at first, but one of them had pointed at Umber, exclaiming in surprise, “I know
him!” That was enough to spur the others to assist him.
“But for Indira, I would have come to help you
when you first radioed,” Umber finished. “What happened to you?” Scarlet briefly
described his experience in the quicksand and encounter with the tiger. Umber
shook his head. “Mata Ganga herself must be watching over us.”
“Actually, you were just very lucky,” snapped the
woman called Sheila. “We dug this pit only a week ago. Indira likes to take this
path down to the river sometimes. She’s on our list for a check-up and a new
collar.”
Kent didn’t look up as he spoke. “It’s lucky for
you that you didn’t fall in yourself. We line the traps with capsules filled
with quick-acting anaesthetic gas. When the tiger falls or steps on them, they
break. It’s almost impossible to avoid immediately inhaling the gas, which puts
it to sleep. The radio-collar’s transmitter contains a gas detector, and lets us
know who’s ready for a check-up.”
Sheila glared at the two Spectrum officers. “We
were on our way to see Ravi when we got distracted by you two. He’s a canny one,
almost as hard to trick into a pit as Indira. It’s taken us months to finally
trap him. We’ve wasted so much time already, Ravi will probably wake up and be
gone before we can reach him. But since we’ve got Indira here, we can hardly
skip her check-up.”
“Is it going to take long?” asked the British
Spectrum officer. “We need to push on to our destination.” He tried to wipe the
dripping muck off his vest and trousers. “And we’d like to find some dry
clothes. We lost all our luggage with our boat.”
“It will take as long as it takes,” growled
Sheila.
“Ignore her. Sheila’s being herself, lately.” The
third zoologist grinned at the nonplussed Spectrum captains, casually introduced
her fellows as “Sheila of the sweet temper” and Kent “our fearless leader,” and
herself simply as Rajeev. “But you know that, of course,” she nodded to Captain
Umber.
He returned her nod pleasantly, but a warning
flashed in his eyes. He introduced Captain Scarlet, and fictitiously recalled
the first time he met Rajeev. Rajeev picked up on the cues without missing a
beat.
“Tell me, Captain Scarlet,” she asked, turning
away from the Indian captain, “what are you doing out in the middle of a forest
with Captain Umber? How did you get here?”
Scarlet curtly described their encounter with the
patrol boat. Asked about their strange uniforms, he briefly outlined Spectrum’s
purpose, again identified himself and Umber as agents, and added that they were
on an urgent mission.
The zoologists looked sceptical, but Rajeev
vouched for Captain Umber. “Well, you can hitch a ride with us to the Preserve’s
lodge in Rishikesh and spend the night,” offered Kent. “There’s an indoor shower
and a washing machine. There’s probably some dry clothes around, too, so you can
wear something clean and tour the town.”
Their work finally done, the tiger team packed up
and lead the way out of the forest. Captain Scarlet, to his chagrin, was forced
to wrap himself in a tarp before Kent would allow him into the team’s jeep.
After showering and changing into their borrowed clothes, the two Spectrum
agents set out to explore their options for leaving. Rishikesh was a thriving
town and normally a thriving transportation hub. But the coming war had resulted
in the imposition of a curfew, and disrupted the public transportation system;
schedules had become chaotic as routes were reduced and drivers refused to
venture north. It didn’t take long to determine that there was no chance of
leaving the city tonight by any means. Even if they could have, no traffic was
allowed past the roadblocks after dark. They purchased new clothing and arranged
to have their uniforms cleaned and delivered in the morning. While cleaning
their weapons after returning to the lodge, Scarlet and Umber reviewed their
options for reaching Gangotri.
“The pending war is affecting travel throughout
this region, but especially to the north. There’s no public transportation
scheduled to run from here to Gangotri, or anyplace else north, tomorrow. And no
place that rents private vehicles. Seems a lot of people have been busy moving
south. We can’t walk to Gangotri; it’s more than 200 kilometres from here,” said
Umber.
“Perhaps we can persuade someone here to give us a
lift.”
“All the way to Gangotri?”
“Either that, or we’ll have to hitchhike,” Scarlet
said grimly.
********************************************
Daman fought the urge to whip out his
rumal and teach the mechanic a lesson in obedience.
The roadblocks had been intolerable. The trip
north had taken twice as long as normal. The engine of the battered old car the
Thuggee were riding in couldn’t withstand the long times spent idling followed
by the reckless high-speed runs, dangerous weavings around slower traffic, and
frequent hard brakings before coming into the view of roadblocks. At the
checkpoint near Srinigar, steam began to pour from beneath the bonnet,
accompanied by an evil hissing sound.
No one offered to help them as they sat on the
roadside. A phone call to Srinigar revealed that no tow truck would come for
them, so they were obliged to push the car over the long kilometres to the town,
and to a mechanic’s shop.
En route, the car had cooled down enough to allow
the mechanic to safely open the bonnet and make an inspection. He took his time
about it, ignoring the impatient gestures and mutterings of the Thuggee. When
Daman finally demanded to know how long he was going to keep them waiting, the
mechanic was slow to answer.
Besides the overheating problem, the radiator
apparently had at least one leak to be repaired. He could fix it, the mechanic
told them, but not that day. He had other jobs to do first, and by then it would
be near curfew time.
What curfew? the dismayed Daman demanded to know.
A shrug was his answer. The curfew had been imposed only a few days before.
Something to do with the war threats; the mechanic didn’t really know, or care,
why it was imposed. He only knew that he had to get home before the street
patrols started. He would fix their car in the morning, not before.
The mechanic advised the young men to collect
whatever they would need from the car for an overnight stay and directed them to
a guesthouse. It was a decent place, he promised; his cousin owned it and would
give them a discounted price because they were stranded.
Daman seethed, but there was no help for it. He
sent Balin to find the guesthouse and make arrangements while he and the others
emptied the boot. Daman groaned as he looked at the haphazardly packed boot;
they had left Delhi so quickly, that no attempt to prepare the backpacks had
been made; there was only a disorganized mass of clothes, supplies, packs, and
camping equipment. The “fireworks” still rested in open boxes, in plain sight.
That was acceptable; the increasingly thorough inspectors they had encountered
might have asked more questions and been more suspicious of hidden fireworks.
But they would have to trust in Kali Ma’s protection now; there would be no time
or place to prepare the backpacks when they reached Gangotri, so the fireworks
would have to be packed in them tonight. He smiled. Perhaps Kali Ma had arranged
for this delay, so that they could be ready to start hiking towards the Gamukh,
carrying Ganga’s doom, as soon as they reached Gangotri tomorrow. He would not
worry about inspectors anymore.
********************************************
Though the rest was forced on him by the
delay, Captain Scarlet slept well that night and awoke refreshed. He was pleased
to find that the previous day’s swimming, running, climbing, etc. had not left
him with any stiffness. Besides his bruised throat, which had made shaving a
trial, he had only a few sore spots, minor enough to ignore. It was fortunate
neither he nor Umber had been shot. He suspected that the patrol boat’s captain
had known about the tiger preserve and, after assuring the boat would sink,
merely wanted to drive the fleeing men deep into the forest, where, with luck,
natural hazards would finish them off and saved him the trouble of collecting
their bodies. As they couldn’t know where the gunboat moored at night, Captain
Scarlet decided it would be wise if he and his companion continued to wear plain
clothes instead of their distinctive Spectrum uniforms until they were well away
from Rishikesh.
The others were apparently not early
risers. Captains Scarlet and Umber took the opportunity to check and see if
there might be a coach to Gangotri that day; there were none. As they walked
back to the lodge, Scarlet asked about Rajeev. “She obviously knows you rather
well.”
“Indeed. Our parents were good friends; we
spent a lot of time together as children. Naturally, we became close as adults.”
Umber looked wistful as he remembered. “At one point, we talked about marriage.
But things happened and we drifted apart.” He sighed and shook his head. “We
haven’t spoken in years. And where do we meet again?”
Scarlet laughed. “Not under the best
circumstances! And with a disreputable-looking colleague in need of rescue to
boot.”
“I was afraid Rajeev would blurt out my
name. Fortunately, she’s as intelligent as she is beautiful. She understood that
I didn’t want her to reveal the extent of our acquaintance.”
“It’s just as well we’re leaving as soon as
possible. It will save you a lot of explaining.”
When he and Captain Umber joined the others
at breakfast, Kent passed around a flyer. It had a picture of an Indian dancer,
dressed in brilliant silks and classically posed. “I’ve heard of this
Brihannala. She’s very controversial. They call her the Isadora Duncan of Indian
dance.”
“It says she’s going to be in Gangotri
until the 11th, ‘dancing for the gods’. Does that mean the public isn’t
welcome?” asked a man Scarlet and Umber hadn’t met before.
“No, that’s the fundamental purpose of her
dancing, but anyone can watch. Say, now that we’ve already seen Indira, and
there’s no point digging another pit for Ravi just yet, why don’t we take a day
off and go up to Gangotri?”
“No way, Kent!” interjected Sheila. “We
have all those samples from Indira to examine.”
“Most of them have to incubate, and all of
them will keep. I’m going,” said Rajeev firmly.
“Would you mind if we rode along? It sounds
like it would be fun,” added Captain Scarlet.
********************************************
It was the epitome of stealth technology.
Since their invention more than one hundred fifty years ago, tanks had been as
noisy as they were cumbersome, easily detected at great distances. But the
Indian government had long ago employed the finest military and technical minds
and set them to work on the problem. The result was a magnificent machine, a
tank that performed as well as, if not better than, any standard tank, but ran
so quietly it could creep up on an enemy position, undetectable except by direct
visual means. And it was equipped with the best technology to detect approaching
belligerents. When it worked properly. The commander grimaced as he scanned the
horizon of the Mana Pass for any signs of invaders. There was a sort of black
humour to being undetectable, yet unable to detect anything.
The tank driver peered at the screen as he
tapped, then pounded on the keys. There was no doubt about it. The tank’s
infrared, radar, heat detectors, and other sensors weren’t working and the
problem was most likely in the computer. They couldn’t fix it out here. And he,
for one, didn’t want to be taken by surprise by Chinese invaders. To his relief,
the commander agreed. “Aggarwal, contact base and tell them it’s hopeless. If
they’re not going to send us a technician, then come the morning we’re going
back down the valley for repairs. Tell them that.”
********************************************
The Thuggee had waited impatiently while
their car was finally fixed, attempting to menace the mechanic until they
realized that he worked slower when they did so. When they arrived in Gangotri,
it was early afternoon. Daman didn’t want to leave the car in a car park, so
Balin found a mechanic and arranged for minor engine work to be done; the car
would be safely hidden inside the garage. Knowing they would have to subsist on
trail fare for the next few days, the Thuggee next ate a hearty meal, then
donned their backpacks. Uncertain where to start, they asked a street vendor for
directions to the trail that lead to the Gamukh Glacier.
The old woman turned her head from side to
side, and looked them up and down, as if trying to see around her cataracts. She
told them that the trail had been closed to trekkers and pilgrims.
They were poor actors, but it hardly
mattered that their faces did not match their words. The Thuggee expressed
surprise and deep disappointment at being so near the end of their quest, to see
the place where the sacred river emerged and brought life to India. Narsimha, in
a respectful syrupy voice, told the old woman that it had been his life’s
ambition to bathe in the waters at Gamukh, and how crushed he felt. Knowing he
had captured her confidence, he addressed her as grandmother, and asked her if
she thought there would be any trouble if he and his friends continued their
journey? Would devout pilgrims really be forbidden from approaching the source
of the Ganga?
Oh, quite possibly, she advised them. But
if they used care, they might make it unmolested. She warned them to stay away
from the villages, Chirbasa and Bhojbasa, because there were soldiers posted
there who might arrest them and have no respect for their piety.
Narsimha thanked her, and asked her not to
mention their meeting to anyone, for fear someone would tell the soldiers, and
prevent them from completing their quest. The woman promised profusely, and told
them the way to the ninety four steeply rising steps by the temple, the
beginning of the pilgrim trail.
Laughing at the old woman behind their
hands, the Thuggee set off, enthusiastically, intending to reach the glacier
that day. But the demanding climb up the steps left them gasping for breath by
the time they reached the top, and had forced them to use under-exercised leg
muscles. They were all still tired from the hard work of pushing the car to
Srinigar the day before. None of them was accustomed to carrying so much weight
on their backs or walking in hiking boots. In the end, the going was slower than
they’d expected. They had left the pilgrim road early, but Giriraj’s
cross-country map was difficult to interpret. Their muscles began to ache and
the beginnings of blisters threatened. They decided to make camp early, rest,
and set out at sunrise for Gamukh. There would be much work to do when they
arrived.
********************************************
Despite their declared intention to take a
holiday, the zoologists had a number of urgent tasks to carry out before they
could leave Rishikesh, tasks that kept them busy until early afternoon. After
passing through the inevitable roadblocks, the van carrying them and the two
Spectrum agents finally arrived in Gangotri in the late afternoon. At the
guesthouse, they found a message from Lieutenant Ash, promising to meet them in
the common room an hour after sunset.
They found Gangotri crowded with casual
visitors. There were plenty of strangers in the village, almost all of them come
to see Brihannala dance. It was like hunting for needles in a haystack, thought
Captain Scarlet, as he and Umber strolled along the streets. They checked the
carparks and every vehicle they say, but none matched the description of the
Thuggee’s car. They saw no one wearing a yellow scarf, nor had they really
expected to; the Thuggee would not be so stupid if they thought they might be
pursued. But they had no other prominent physical cues to look for and only
vague descriptions of the men they sought.
Captain Umber had some difficulties making
queries. He wasn’t fluent in the form of Hindi spoken locally, and stumbled
repeatedly. But by presenting themselves as travel writers investigating the
current climate for hikers and tourists and how the war had changed things,
Captains Scarlet and Umber learned that there were no parties travelling to
Gamukh; the borderland trails had been declared off-limits for security reasons.
Nor had anyone they spoke to noticed anyone carrying packs, though several
admitted that such a sight was normally so common in Gangotri, that they would
not remember it.
Could the Thuggee have simply passed through Gangotri unnoticed? wondered
Captain Scarlet. It was possible; none of the young men was remarkable in
appearance. Nor was the vehicle they had been riding in particularly special. It
was less likely that they had somehow bypassed the village, unless, as Umber was
beginning to suspect, they had gone northeast from Delhi to Kedarnath instead of
the more direct
¾ and obvious
¾route
north and west to Gangotri. Or had the Thuggee been arrested at an inspection
checkpoint on the road north?
At the guesthouse, Captain Scarlet
surreptitiously radioed Cloudbase to inform Colonel White of his and Captain
Umber’s status and the possible whereabouts of the Thuggee. The propaganda value
of captured terrorists could not be underestimated; if the Neo-Thuggee had been
caught in the vaunted security net, the government would have been quick to
inform the public, and so reassure the people. No such report had been made, so
it had to be presumed that the Neo-Thuggee had passed or evaded the inspections
and reached the north. Wherever they were, they would eventually be at the
Gamukh Glacier. With any luck, Captains Scarlet and Umber would be there to meet
them. But until they met with Lieutenant Ash, they could not journey any
farther.
Guests and residents alike in Gangotri had
been warned to be prepared for imminent evacuation. That hadn’t discouraged the
people who had come to see Brihannala dance. That evening as the sun set,
Captain Scarlet and Captain Umber, still dressed in the plain clothes they had
purchased in Rishikesh, joined the crowd gathered outside the temple, by the
Bhagirath Shila, a large, empty stone slab, and waited. A simple curtain of
unrelieved black had been strung across a rope and suspended in front of the
temple wall to create a makeshift backdrop. As the sky darkened, torches set at
the edges of the slab were lit. And still the people waited. A bell rang,
announcing the recently imposed curfew; no one heeded it. No one seemed inclined
to enforce it, either.
A slit in the curtain opened and a woman
stepped through, lithe as a panther. Her skin was a dark, glowing honey colour,
beautifully set off by the gold trim of her multi-coloured silks, draped and
tied in southern Indian fashion. Her black hair hung loose, only partly
concealed by the scarf draped over her head. Her huge dark eyes were rimmed with
kohl and shone as brightly as the red bindi on her forehead. Delicately tinted
red lips parted in a dazzling smile as she raised her hands to show the
intricate henna tattoos and struck the opening pose for her first dance. The
stage filled with her presence. This was Brihannala.
As the music began, she danced slowly, her
stances and expressions carefully controlled, exquisitely timed, elegant,
perfect. The crowd murmured appreciatively. Gradually, the tempo of the music
increased, and the rhythms changed; Captain Scarlet recognized western elements.
Brihannala’s dancing was no less fluid than before, but it became increasingly
more improvised, less patterned, less formal than before, yet still suggested
classical forms. As she danced, Brihannala cast off scarves, making them twirl
and flap like fantastic silken birds as she released them. There were outraged
mutterings, sighs of admiration and longing, applause, catcalls, and shouts of
encouragement. Brihannala was not detached from her audience, she delighted in
all the responses, whether disapproving or appreciative. And she deliberately
provoked them; Scarlet did not see why, but he heard Umber gasp as Brihannala
executed a series of rapid, flying steps with her arms held high, her skirts
swirling, and scarves waving. When the performance ended, she came to a stop on
her knees, her skirts and scarves fanned out around her like the petals of the
gaudiest flower on earth, her smile lighting up the night as she welcomed the
applause. She winked and blew kisses to some of the men in the audience
including, to his embarrassment, Captain Scarlet. The crowd roared with laughter
and approval. Brihannala disappeared behind the black curtain with a flourish.
Despite their demands for another dance, she did not return, and the curtain
fell to the stage, revealing no one behind it.
The amazing performance over, Captains
Scarlet and Umber returned to their guesthouse, where Lieutenant Ash had
promised to meet them in the common room. Scarlet looked around. “She doesn’t
seem to be here. Perhaps we’re early?”
“I’m here, captain,” came a soft voice.
Both captains turned to see a young woman
dressed in a Spectrum uniform, its vest a nondescript greyish colour. Like her
uniform, the woman was mousy in appearance, her plain face free of makeup, her
hair neatly bound up in a modest bun. She must have been sitting there the whole
time, yet neither man had noticed her; Lieutenant Ash had simply blended into
the background.
“A pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant Ash. I’ve been
receiving your reports about this region regularly in Delhi,” said Captain
Umber.
The introductions completed, Ash lead her
fellow Spectrum agents to a spot near the river where they could talk without
being overhead or approached unseen. The men reviewed their day’s work, hunting
for signs that the Thuggee were or had been in Gangotri, part of the crowd of
strangers that had come to see Brihannala.
Ash told them of a conversation she had had
the previous evening with a visitor. He had been preparing to leave the
guesthouse in Srinigar, but was delayed. While waiting for his companion, he had
talked with a small group of men who had just arrived and were planning to spend
the night. They were carrying in boxes of fireworks, plus backpacks and camping
equipment. He had commented on their odd luggage as he had heard that the hiking
trails in the north were closed. They had declared that they were taking the
fireworks to a wedding, and there were so many guests expected, that they had
decided to be prepared to sleep rough. They had had a lot of fireworks with
them, large, roman-candle style fireworks, he said. An awful lot So close to the
border and with so many people afraid of a Chinese invasion, he thought the
wedding guests were more likely to be terrified than entertained by explosions.”
Captain Scarlet was listening intently.
“You’re sure he described them as Roman candles?” Ash nodded assertively. “Are
fireworks a normal part of Indian wedding celebrations?”
“They’re not unusual,” provided Umber. “But
it does sound suspicious.”
“Another thing: I hiked up near Chirbasa
early today. On my way back late this afternoon, I spotted some people setting
up a camp, about ten kilometres from here. I don’t think they’re ordinary
trekkers, or experienced ones for that matter. Anyone with sense would have
stopped in Gangotri. Or at least chosen a wiser place to set up camp; it’s an
uncomfortable spot even though the soldiers stationed in Chirbasa probably won’t
spot them. I had the feeling they didn’t want to be seen.”
“How many people did you see?” asked Umber.
“Four. There could be one or two more, but
the tent was small for four men.”
“Could you tell if any of them were wearing
yellow scarves?” put in Captain Scarlet.
Lieutenant Ash frowned and furrowed her
brow as she thought. Finally, she said, “No. I don’t recall seeing anything that
bright. But I wasn’t that close; I could have missed something as small as a
scarf.”
“If those are the terrorists we’re after,
they might decide to move on and head for the glacier tonight.”
Ash shook her head. “Even with torches, it
would be too easy to get lost in the darkness. There’s no defined trail to the
glacier, other than the pilgrim trail, which they’re plainly avoiding.”
Captain Scarlet frowned. “How long will it
take to reach the glacier in daylight?”
“From here, if we avoid the pilgrim road,
about eight to ten hours if we make steady progress.”
Captain Scarlet listened to the soft roar of the
waters rushing below them, and felt its cool spray on his face. The river was a
beautiful, natural thing that had been here long before people came. If he and
his fellow agents failed in their mission, it would be gone, perhaps before the
next sunset.
“Both of you be ready to leave as soon as
there’s enough light to travel,” ordered Captain Scarlet. “It looks like we have
a race to the glacier tomorrow.”
********************************************
Sudama
was whining again. It was so cold, he complained, and the fire wouldn’t stay
built up, and the wood he had to carry was so heavy, and his arms and legs
ached, and the ground was too rocky to lie on, and the air was thin, and he was
hungry, and why couldn’t they stay in a guesthouse at Gangotri? Daman ignored
him now, but had already decided that Sudama would not return with them after
the Ganga’s mouth was sealed. Tomorrow, at Gamukh, he would arrange for Sudama’s
death; an accidental death, so the others would not suspect.
********************************************
As soon as the sun rose, the Spectrum
agents set out from Gangotri with the packs of supplies and other equipment that
Ash had prepared for their trek. All were dressed in their uniforms. Lieutenant
Ash had asked if they shouldn’t wear less conspicuous clothing, but Umber had
pointed out that they were in more danger of being taken for spies than they
would be in uniforms, even unfamiliar uniforms.
They avoided the easily travelled,
well-established trail to Chirbasa and Bhojbasa; Lieutenant Ash warned them that
both villages, normally welcome rest and refreshment stops for trekkers, had
been evacuated in anticipation of a Chinese invasion, and troops stationed there
to intercept fools and traitors who might seek to reach the Chinese-Tibetan
border. Instead, the Spectrum agents had to blaze their own trail across the raw
country, guided by Ash’s knowledge of the terrain.
Trees gave way to brush, scrub, and then a
desert of moraines and scree. They hiked and climbed up and down the valley
walls to avoid any lookouts that might be posted in the villages. Each took a
turn scouting ahead for signs of the Thuggee, signs that the Thuggee had
likewise managed to pass the villages undetected, or been captured. Many of the
signs were subtle: a scar on the earth left by recently disturbed scree, a
mashed plant, and the like.
It
was Captain Scarlet’s turn to leave his pack in Ash’s and Umber’s care and scout
ahead. He scanned the face of the moraine to his left and right as he climbed,
looking for signs that the scree had been disturbed recently. An enormous shadow
made him look up in horror; a tank was looming over him as he neared the top. He
had no time to marvel at its silence — it was about to descend on him. It was
impossible to climb down; Scarlet knew he couldn’t make it before the tank
crushed him. He pushed himself backwards, and leapt down and sideways, rolling
as he landed, just clear of the tank. Pulling off his vest and crushing it into
a ball, he tried to curl up into a black ball beside a boulder but he could not
conceal all the scarlet of his boots.
From their more distant vantage point, Ash
and Umber had seen the silent tank approaching moments before it reached Captain
Scarlet, and taken cover behind some large boulders. Their uniform colours
blended well with the landscape and if the tank’s crew hadn’t noted their
movement, they were safe. They hadn’t dared shout or radio Scarlet to warn him
to get out of the way; the crew of the mysteriously silent tank would have heard
as well, and been alerted. But Captain Scarlet was still plainly visible to the
tank’s crewmembers if one happened to look his way. The vivid red of Scarlet’s
uniform stood out boldly against the brown and grey scree.
Ash quickly threw aside her pack, pulled
off her vest, and bundled it into Umber’s arms. She had knocked off her radio
cap, and ignored it as it bounced off a rock and rolled away. Her mane of black
hair, released from its confinement, tumbled to her waist, and she tossed it
impatiently as she plucked free the ends of the myriad colourful scarves she’d
tucked into her waistband and tied shawl-like in multiple layers beneath her
vest. Captain Umber was astonished by the speed with which the mousy Lieutenant
Ash transformed into the flamboyant Brihannala. She hissed at him to remain out
of sight and pranced out into the open, twirling, posing, stomping, and capering
in patterns that were both ancient and modern. She held up two scarves, one
brilliant magenta, the other electric blue, let them fill with the wind like
sails, and then released them to fly across the plateau.
Umber watched as she danced her way into
the path of the tank, shedding scarves as she went. The plateau was quickly
adorned with bits of bright silk. Camouflage!
thought Umber. If any of the tank crew notice the bit of bright red that’s
Captain Scarlet, they might think he’s just one of the scarves.
The tank slowed as it neared Lieutenant
Ash. She continued to dance as if she were alone. Several of the tank’s hatches
opened, and crewmen stood up to watch her. They called to her and clapped their
hands. “Brihannala! Brihannala!” they shouted. “Will you dance for us?”
Ash smiled at them and released two more
scarves. “If Mata Ganga and Lord Shiva are pleased!” she called back.
The tank crewmen laughed. “Then give them
your finest dance, beautiful Brihannala!” They waved before disappearing and
closing the hatches as the tank continued down the slope.
Ash continued to dance until they were
safely away. Captain Scarlet slowly got to his feet and picked up his radio cap.
“Lieutenant Ash,” he declared, “you get top marks for the most brilliant
diversion I’ve ever seen. What made you think to come prepared to impersonate
Brihannala?”
“I am Brihannala!”
Lieutenant Ash, or Brihannala as she was
now, laughed. Captain Scarlet found himself thinking that her animation and the
bright colours worked a remarkable transformation, turning the mousy, nearly
invisible Spectrum agent into a very beautiful young woman.
“I’ve made a habit of dancing for the gods
up here for a long time. Many people have seen me up here, including the crews
of the tanks that have been stationed far up the valleys. I thought that when we
get near the Gamukh, if there’s anyone there before us, I could create a
diversion by dancing for Mata Ganga.” Brihannala transformed back into
Lieutenant Ash as she donned her vest and hid her hair beneath her cap.
Umber’s face darkened. “You knew there were
tanks up here and you didn’t think to warn us?” he barked angrily. “Captain
Scarlet could have been killed!”
Ash looked startled, then her face fell as
she realized the enormity of her mistake. “They’re stationed far up the valley,
away from the glacier. We won’t be anywhere near them. And none was due to be
relieved for another week. That one shouldn’t have been here!”
“You should have anticipated that it might
be. Are there any more possible surprises ahead?”
Ash shook her head. “No, sir,” she said
miserably. “Sir, may I suggest we wear our capes to cover our uniforms so we’ll
blend into the landscape better, just in case? I haven’t got enough scarves left
to do that again.”
“We couldn’t let you, anyway. The diversion
was effective enough for those soldiers, but it wouldn’t impress the terrorists.
They’re devoted to Kali. They’d probably kill anyone like you who’s known for
her piety toward other gods, especially Mata Ganga.” Umber glared at the young
agent. “Your thinking is original, Lieutenant, but not thorough.”
********************************************
Every one of the Thuggee had slept badly,
despite the tiring hike of the day before. Daman had considered abandoning some
of the nonessential gear that morning, but Sudama had complained so much about
the work it would be to break camp, that Daman perversely decided to punish
everyone by taking all the equipment with them. At any rate, they couldn’t hike
all the way back to the car in a day, not with blistered feet and aching backs,
so they would need the tent and food supplies anyway. And after they finished
with the dynamite at Gamukh, their packs would be much lighter, he’d reasoned.
The packs felt heavier than on the day
before, and the thinner air made it harder to breathe comfortably. Avoiding the
villages on the pilgrim road had meant climbing down to the valley and up the
mountainside and creeping along like mice when the cover was sparse. On top of
everything, they had continued having difficulty interpreting the map and almost
failed to adjust their course after passing Bhojbasa.
When the Thuggee finally reached their
goal, they stood by the river, and looked up at the cave walls and roof. Only
Daman felt elated. Their mission was almost accomplished! The others were tired
and just wanted to get the job done.
Beside the river, they unpacked the
explosives, bundled sticks of dynamite with twine and prepared the fuses,
carefully measuring each one. Because they didn’t have an automatic detonator,
it would be necessary to light the fuses by hand. Balin, Sudama, and Narsimha
would each be responsible for lighting a set number of bundles on the cave roof
while Daman lighted the ones he planted in the walls of the mouth. Daman had
calculated that by making each fuse a little longer than the one before, it
would be possible to light the longest one first, then, by the time the shortest
one was lit, all the fuses would be the same length, and all the dynamite
bundles would explode simultaneously. It was a simple plan, but it would work.
Even better, thought Daman, it would enable
him to get rid of Sudama. Last night, he had secretly dipped one of the fuses in
lamp oil until it was thoroughly soaked, then rubbed it with gunpowder. The
treated fuse would burn much more rapidly than the ordinary fuses, too fast for
the person holding the flame to that fuse to escape before the dynamite
exploded. He intended to make sure that Sudama was the victim. The premature
explosion would probably not affect the plan to dam the river. If it did, Daman
wasn’t concerned. There were still some more sticks of dynamite in reserve to
seal off the rest of the cave.
The bundling completed, Daman directed the
others to start carrying them up onto the cave’s roof and hunt for crevices in
the stone and ice in which to plant them, and to begin chipping holes with their
pickaxes where no suitable places could be found. He made sure to give Sudama
the dynamite bundles made up of only solid red sticks. “Because you said the
others are too pretty to blow up.”
Sudama was pleased. Daman wasn’t often kind to
him.
********************************************
A few hours after their encounter with the
tank, the Spectrum agents approached the cave beneath the glacier; the trio
could see that people were already there. Three were on the roof of the cave;
one was below them, near the mouth. There was no mistaking who the people at the
cave were: even from a distance, the agents could see that they were all wearing
yellow kerchiefs. There was not enough cover to allow them to approach any
closer unseen.
Captain Scarlet had an idea. “Ash, do you
still have some yellow scarves?”
“Yes, sir,” replied Ash. “But not enough to
dance with.”
“How many?”
Ash zipped open her vest. “Two bright
yellow, one saffron.” She handed them to Captain Scarlet.
He examined the scarves and nodded.
“They’ll do. We just have to pass for Neo-Thuggee long enough to get closer.”
“I’ll wear this one, sir,” said Ash, taking
the darkest scarf. “I can hold the neck of my cape close so that my hood will
seem to cast a shadow. That will obscure the colour difference, at least for a
short time.”
Captain Scarlet nodded and handed a bright
yellow scarf to Captain Umber and the saffron scarf to Lieutenant Ash. “Tie
small stones in opposing corners so they’ll look more like proper rumal.”
Scarves in place, they arranged the necks
of the cloaks to make sure the yellow was easily visible, then adjusted the
cloak hoods to cover their radiocaps.
“What about our boots?” asked Ash. “The
cloaks are too short to cover them and we haven’t got any substitutes.” She
pointed to Scarlet’s feet as she added, “Those red boots of yours are
distinctive, even at a distance.”
“People usually don’t notice footwear.
We’ll have to take our chances that these four aren’t any more observant than
average. But your concern is noted, Lieutenant. I’ll stand behind rocks whenever
possible.”
As Captain Scarlet ordered, none of the
agents tried to approach stealthily. Instead, they hiked across the plain
boldly, as if unconcerned to see other people already at the cave.
They managed to get quite close before one
of the Thuggee on the cave’s rooftop noticed them. Narsimha was surprised.
Hadn’t the old woman made it clear that the trail was closed and guarded? What
were these people doing here? Then he saw the flashes of yellow clearly visible
around each person’s neck. After a quick consultation with his fellows, he
called out to them in Hindi. To Scarlet’s ears, his voice sounded cautious but
questioning rather than threatening.
“It’s just a greeting. They’ve noted the
scarves. I’m going to answer,” said Umber. He replied to the Thuggee in Hindi,
then switched to English. He told them they were fortunate. “The white-skinned
Lord Shiva the Destroyer has come to observe you carrying out your duty!” Umber
laughed and added, “And to make sure his money is being well-spent!” Scarlet
held his breath. Umber was taking a chance, assuming that these young men really
did know that there were Europeans in the upper echelon, financing the
Neo-Thuggee. He relaxed as three of the Thuggee also laughed, but noted that the
fourth, who had emerged from the cave’s mouth, looked resentful.
Daman watched the trio in disgust and with
suspicion. Until now, he had been wholly in command, the undisputed leader. He
had never given his immediate superiors any cause to doubt his abilities, his
loyalty. True, he hadn’t sought orders for this mission, but he had certainly
shown initiative. The European would see how well he, Daman, had orchestrated
the Ganga’s destruction. He would be liberal with his rewards.
But as much as he wanted to earn
advancement through the Neo-Thuggee ranks, Daman mistrusted the unknown
Europeans as much as he appreciated their open pockets. What, he had wondered
many times, do they expect to get from India? And he wondered now, Why has this
man come to see us for himself? Why here? Why now?
As the newcomers got closer and dropped the
packs they’d been carrying, he noticed that one was much shorter and walked more
lightly than the others. A boy? No, there was something odd about the way that
one moved, he realised with surprise. “A woman!” he shouted. The other Thuggee
tensed with suspicion. Even though she wore a dark yellow kerchief, they had
never heard of a female Thuggee.
Ash’s face took on a ghastly expression as
she fixed the Thuggee who had shouted with a piercing gaze. She assumed a
surprisingly forceful stance, and commanded them to explain how they were
performing their task. When Daman challenged her authority to command them, she
verbally lashed him with a filthy epithet. “I am Kali-Ma’s face and voice on
Earth! I am here with my Lord Shiva to see the destruction of Ganga! And you
dare to ask if I may command you! Now speak as I have ordered!”
Scarlet turned his head just slightly to
look at Ash as she spoke. He was astonished by her rapid transformation, how she
had contorted her features and used the shadows of her hood to make her face
look truly frightening. She seemed to have grown taller, imposing, intimidating.
If he hadn’t known this was Lieutenant Ash, he could almost believe she was
Kali.
Captain Umber and Lieutenant Ash began
climbing up to the cave roof, as if intending to make an inspection, while
Captain Scarlet waded into the river to examine the inside of the cave. The
Thuggee on the roof began speaking rapidly and all at once, hoping to impress
the visitors with their cleverness, pointing out where they had placed packs of
dynamite so far, where they intended to place the rest, and how they had timed
the fuses so that despite each one being lighted them by hand, the fuses would
detonate the explosives almost simultaneously.
Feeling displaced and humiliated, Daman
studied the newcomers’ faces beneath their hoods. He felt that there was
something familiar about the woman and one of the men, but what? Had he seen any
of them before? Where could he have seen them? The European turned his head and
the sun shone in his face, illuminating his piercing blue eyes. Daman was sure
he’d seen such eyes before. He looked the man up and down. Only then did he
remember where and when he had seen him before. At the Imperial Hotel, this was
the man who had collected the message and map. It had been a brief encounter,
but he had noted the man’s eyes and his red uniform vest; now he recognized the
man’s boots, that same intense red. He had hardly looked at them when he saw
Captain Scarlet leave the hotel, but there could not be two blue-eyed Europeans
wearing conspicuous red boots in all of India.
“It’s him!” Daman shouted in Hindi. “The
Spectrum agent I gave the map to at the hotel in Delhi! Light the dynamite!”
Two of the Thuggee on the cave roof froze
for a moment, glancing uncertainly between Daman and Captain Umber and
Lieutenant Ash, who reassumed her Kali-Ma face and stance, and attempted to
countermand Daman’s orders. But Sudama pulled out a cigarette lighter and began
trying to light it.
“Hurry up, you fool!” Daman shouted at
Sudama.
Narsimha and Balin lost their uncertainty
and attacked the newcomers. The matches were uneven. Captain Umber struggled
with the smaller but agile Balin while Lieutenant Ash unsuccessfully attempted
to get past Narsimha and reach Sudama.
Although he didn’t understand Hindi,
Captain Scarlet had heard the urgency in Daman’s voice and guessed at the
meaning. He had to get to the cave roof.
Daman intercepted Scarlet and seized his
cloak. Quickly, Scarlet shrugged out of it, keeping hold of one edge, then
cracked the cloak like a whip. Daman went flying into the face of the cave’s
outer wall.
Sudama flicked the lighter twice again.
“Cheap trash!” he cursed under his breath, before a weak flame finally appeared.
He lit the bundle of dynamite he was holding and threw it wildly down at the man
in red, missing him by a long distance. Then he touched the flame to the fuse of
the bundle he had just planted in the cave’s roof.
Captain Umber, Lieutenant Ash, and the
Thuggee they were struggling with were knocked down by the force of the
dynamite’s blast.
Daman had just begun to rise from where he
had fallen when he heard the explosion and felt the wall behind him begin to
disintegrate. His scream was cut off as a boulder shattered his head.
Scarlet barely saw the tumbling blue ice
and rock before he turned to run. He made it only a few steps before he was hit
by something and thrown to the ground. Lifting his head and shaking off the
momentary daze, he saw that a bundle of dynamite, its fuse burning rapidly, was
resting in front of him. He tried to rise, but discovered he was pinned from the
waist down.
Despite the shock of seeing their
colleagues die, the two remaining Thuggee seemed determined to complete their
mission. It was slippery atop the glacial cave, and Ash missed her footing as
she ducked to avoid the pickaxe Narsimha swung. He ignored her as she slid and
tumbled helplessly, and fumbled for his own cigarette lighter. Captain Umber,
still struggling with the remaining Thug, Balin, could only watch in horror as
the free man began to light fuses.
There was a cry like a banshee’s scream.
Lieutenant Ash had crept back up onto the roof and thrown herself at the
fire-wielding Thug. He dropped the lighter and tried to grab up his pickaxe
again. Ash hit him squarely and solidly with a shoulder, transferring all of her
forward momentum into the Thug, and allowing her to drop flat onto the ice. The
Thug shouted something vile at her as he fell backwards, a shout that turned
into a shriek as he slid over the edge of the cave mouth and into the river
below. Ash rose, panting.
“The fuses!” shouted Umber, as his man
broke away, and ran further up the glacier. There was nowhere he could go, Umber
knew; they could wait for him to return. Right now, they had to pluck fuses out
of bundles of dynamite. But when the Indian captain glanced back over the
glacier, the Thug was nowhere in sight.
The ice over the crevasse had once formed a
natural bridge, but time had made it rotten although it still looked sound
enough. The panicking Balin had taken only a few steps before he found himself
falling inside a hypnotic tower of blue. He didn’t even scream during the long
time it took to reach the bottom; the shock had struck him dumb.
Captain Scarlet could only just hear the shouting
over the rushing river. Captain Umber and Lieutenant Ash were busy trying to
stop the Thugs from lighting the rest of the charges. There was a bundle of
dynamite lying in front of him, so tantalizingly close! He stretched as far as
his arm would go. His fingertips brushed the bundle. He calculated quickly, then
carefully clawed at the strings binding it together. The bundle shifted, rocked,
and then rolled over, a bare fraction of a turn, but just enough to let him snag
it with his fingers. Quickly, he pulled it back and saw that the fuse was almost
gone. He plucked it out, burning his fingers before he could throw it aside. But
the dynamite was harmless.
Now that the danger was past, Captain
Scarlet became aware of the rock beneath him, squeezing the breath out of his
chest, and the weight holding him down. With a sigh, he succumbed to pain and
the thin air.
********************************************
Something wet and very, very cold was
falling on his face. It felt like rain. He groaned softly.
“Captain Scarlet!”
A splash of freezing water brought him to
full consciousness, sputtering and gasping. Lieutenant Ash sighed with relief.
“Welcome back, Captain Scarlet,” said
Umber. “How do you feel?”
“Like a mountain fell on me,” rasped
Scarlet. “Could I have some water? To drink, I mean.”
Ash brought him a cupful, which he drank
greedily.
Umber grunted. “You were very, very lucky.
The Thug you fought with was buried beneath the slide. A slab of ice fell across
you and created a table that held most of the rocks up and away from you. Once
we cleared the boulders away from in front of you and beneath you, Ash and I
managed to pull you free.”
“You have scrapes and you’ll certainly have
lots of bruises, but no broken bones, sir,” added Ash.
Scarlet wanted to shake his head, but
discovered that the rapid motion made him dizzy. “By rights, I should have been
killed.”
“Perhaps Mata Ganga protected you. After
all, you were acting to protect her.”
“He should have been killed before now,
Lieutenant.” Umber gave her a synopsis of their adventure, beginning with the
cobra in Delhi.
Ash was astounded. “You’ve faced so many
deaths!” she exclaimed
Captain Scarlet hadn’t had time to think
about how many narrow escapes he’d had in the last few days. “Captain Umber
makes it sound heroic. But if I do get killed on duty, it will probably be in
some mundane road accident,” he joked.
Captain Scarlet insisted on making his
report to Cloudbase. The Thugs had failed, but only because they had acted in
haste, without contacting their superiors, and apparently packing the only
explosives that had been on hand. Given more time and another opportunity, the
outcome would be different. Another attempt could not be ruled out. The
Neo-Thuggee, while still a small organization, had proved itself to be extremely
dangerous. The Indian government had to be informed and the search for the
mysterious European backers, as well as the extent of the Thuggee network, begun
immediately. Captain Umber, who knew more of the terrorists’ modern workings and
historical inspirations than anyone else, was ordered to accompany Captain
Scarlet to Cloudbase on special assignment. Colonel White was concerned to hear
that Scarlet had been injured, despite assurances from the others that the
injuries were relatively minor, and they could see him safely back to Gangotri.
He would try to persuade the Indian prime minister to make an exception to the
ban on non-military aircraft and approve air transport for Captains Scarlet and
Umber when they returned to the village.
After Cloudbase signed off, Scarlet was
willing to lie still and rest while Captain Umber and Lieutenant Ash worked to
set up a camp, using the sturdy and lightweight gear that Ash had selected and
packed. The Thuggee’s camping gear was useful for padding against the
rock-covered ground, but little else. The two Indians quietly and efficiently
pulled the last Thug’s body out of the water, dragged it as far from the river
as they reasonably could, and built a cairn over it. As night fell, Ash lit a
lightweight Chabe camping stove that provided heat, light, and a means to boil
water for their dehydrated food supplies.
Ash had been very quiet since the
excitement ended, and had worked beside Umber without unnecessary speech. When
she finally spoke, it was with a catch in her voice. “Captain Scarlet, Captain
Umber, I’m going to resign my commission.”
Both men looked at her with surprise. “I’m
not a very good agent. I didn’t tell you about the tanks. I had a bad idea for a
diversion. I wasn’t even a very good Kali Ma; if I’d been better, all the
Thuggee would have hesitated long enough for us to prevent that blast. All I can
really do well is dance. Spectrum doesn’t need that skill.”
“Spectrum can use it, though,” Captain
Scarlet stated firmly. Now it was Ash’s turn to look surprised. “Perhaps not
your dancing as such, but you as Brihannala. She can go places that others
can’t, and I daresay people say things to Brihannala that they would never say
to Lieutenant Ash.”
Ash nodded. “It was just after my dance the
night before you came to Gangotri that I spoke with the visitor who told me
about the young men with the backpacks and fireworks. I saw him again later that
night at the guesthouse, after I’d changed into my Spectrum uniform. I said
hello, but he didn’t even look at me.”
“Because Lieutenant Ash can make herself so
invisible that she can observe and overhear things Brihannala might not be able
to. You have a remarkable skill for transforming from one to the other. We saw
you change into an imposing Kali, as well. You’ve shown that you have courage
and daring, even if you’re a bit rough around the edges. And you’ve gathered
information that Spectrum didn’t have, about the movement and placement of tanks
in the valleys. With some special training, you might have the makings of an
ideal undercover agent.” He smiled at the sparkle in Ash’s eyes. “Captain
Umber?”
“In spite of your mistakes, I’ve found you
to be a good agent, Lieutenant Ash. Your reports to me on possible terrorist
activity and pictures of the Gamukh Glacier have been useful; they enabled us to
determine quickly where the Neo-Thuggee would most likely strike and how. You’re
also resourceful, creative, and more than a little brave. I’ll add my
recommendation to Captain Scarlet’s when we meet with Colonel White on
Cloudbase.”
Brihannala gathered the few scarves she had
left and danced, not for the men’s entertainment but as an outlet for her joy,
and to share it with the gods, especially Mata Ganga.
Captain Scarlet smiled as he tried to relax
and fall asleep, then winced as a rock beneath him found another particularly
painful bruise. It was going to be a long, slow trek back to Gangotri in the
morning.
The End
The places mentioned and described are, for the most part, real, except for the Bhagirathi Tiger Preserve. The characters and other people mentioned are all fictional, and not based on any real persons. Captain Umber and Lieutenant Ash/Brihannala are my creations, though Brihannala was inspired by a character in Hindu writings. The Chabe stove was invented by Ursula K. LeGuin in her novel The Left Hand of Darkness; although no such stove is available on Earth, I hope she doesn’t mind my borrowing it. Captain Scarlet, Colonel White, Lieutenant Green, and Cloudbase are the intellectual property of other people, used without express permission, but without intent to infringe. My only purpose is to entertain myself and friends. In other words, I don’t get any payment for this other than the satisfaction of meeting a fellow writer’s challenge to my imagination. And it’s been a mighty challenge.
OTHER STORIES BY TIGER JACKSON
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