Tales of a Nat-Geo Adventurer.

The Ends of Nature.

The Ends of Nature.

Millions and millions of stars winked at him from massive distances. He stared at them, feeling miniscule but huge at the same time - a feeling only the vastness of space could elicit. It was like being inside a painting of small polka dots over a black background. Far away, he could see a brilliant nebula, getting closer by the second. He was excited about it and wanted to get closer to the nebula so that he could take some pictures. "I feel peaceful" - he said to himself - "here at the ends of nature." Yes, when you are alone in the middle of a huge ship with non-communicative stars for company, then you can get away with saying stupid things like that to yourself. 

He wrote that down. He was in the Gomlass Wing, sitting with his knees bent in front of him, his back resting on one side of the glass pane that surrounded the room. Beneath him, above him, in front of him and behind him, was a stunning view of the vast expanse of space. The Gomlass wing was a huge, transparent room made entirely of a single sheet of unbreakable glass, connecting the two halves of the ship. It offered an uninterrupted vista of the outer space around the ship. The glass was placed in such a way that it needed no buffering at intervals, and the support that was provided was placed out of sight. The Ammonites rarely used this room. He found that this was one room where he was rarely disturbed, and so he whiled away the hours writing in his journal about the ways of the Ammonites, the ship and the geography of space.

He remembered the first time he had entered the Gomlass. The room had frightened him. The glass created an illusion of emptiness, that there was no barrier between him and the wide, yawning space all around him. He had touched the glass floor with his hands before entering with his feet. He was stunned by the sights of galaxies of stars floating all around him; colorful clouds of virgin gases spewing out of nowhere, creating more stars - millions of non-living 'beings' cradling life within themselves, performing a cosmic dance without an appreciative audience. He had stayed and slept in the room for four days and nights.

He relaxed his legs, and saw Desmocera walking towards him, far away. Such was the length of the room that Desmocera appeared small to him.

He finished writing four or five more sentences before Desmo stood next to him. He looked up at him, liking him. In the first few days of his acquaintance with the Ammonites, Desmo had been appointed as his aide. His job was to teach him English, and Desmo's job was to teach him Ammosiyan, the language of the Ammonites. They both learned together, sharing and exchanging knowledge. They were both fast learners and were progressing rapidly. They had begun their training together on Earth.

"Good morning," said Desmo, with a lilting accent.

"Tren Aven, Desmo" he replied in Ammosiyan. It was fun learning a new language. Along with Ammosiyan, he got to learn many different things about their culture, cuisine, ecology and health. He had learnt that the Ammonites did not develop their fifth brain until they hit puberty, which was around the age of 13-14 for men and 11-12 for women. That their culture was highly scientific in nature, they had no superstitions and any modern myth or legend was attacked with great scientific ferocity, until it was proven wrong. That they were omnivorous and especially liked eating 'Systha', a type of sweet-tasting aquatic animal. And that they could elongate their life spans up to 200 years by regularly replacing their old organs with new ones, developed in large 'organ farms' which used Ammonite stem cells to grow them.

"Isn't that frowned upon?" he had asked Desmo, getting the correct words with little difficulty.

"Yes, but very rarely. Who doesn't want to enjoy life for a few more years? When there is an" - he searched for a word, then took out a small device, a very basic English-Ammosiyan-English dictionary that was hastily put together in the six months interval between the arrival and the departure of the Ammonites. "When there is an option," he continued, "why not use it to extend life? We are very practical about life. And Life is
very enjoyable at Ammona." He finished, a little mentally exhausted after the strain of speaking for so long in English.

"Desmo, when can we visit the map room?"

"Now, if you wish."

He really wanted to see the map room. He was told it was one of the most wonderful rooms in the whole ship, one place below the Gomlass Wing in comparison. He hurried behind Desmo, who glided effortlessly over the glass floor. Three minutes later, they entered a small hallway, and went through a large steel door which opened only after Desmo had punched in a sequence of Ammosiyan numbers.

Landfall - 1.

The alarm rang shrilly, and it took him a moment or two to realize that the sound was not in his dreams, but was coming from under his pillow. He took out his cell phone and tapped the screen groggily to make the shrill sound stop. He went back to sleep immediately, the phone falling softly on his softly heaving chest. 

He woke up again, and dragged himself out of bed. A good cup of coffee freshened him, and he turned on his TV set and changed to the news channel. He wanted to see his stock prices. In the next instant, he had dropped his cup of coffee, had jumped off the sofa, grabbed his cell from under the pillow and had called his boss. He knew his boss would be sleeping-in late too today. He heard something he had never heard before - An IVR recording of a woman apologizing - Network busy. 

He threw the cell phone on the sofa, from where it promptly slid and fell into the warm pool of coffee. He couldn't care less. He quickly showered and readied himself to go to work. "Boy, there's gonna be some traffic today!" he told himself, as he tied his shoe-lace. He picked up his cell phone, dried it using a piece of an old shirt, and ran out of the door. The door locked itself automatically. 

He ran to his garage, where the door slid open and the car came out, pleasantly bobbing in mid-air. As the car opened its door to let him in, it asked "Where to, Boss?” 

"Work" he said, and started dialing his boss again. When that didn't connect, he called Freddy, his colleague. Freddy picked up on the first ring. "Hey man! Come to office right now. Lots going on" he said, clearly excited. 

"Yeah! I saw. What the hell is that thing?" he asked, looking out of the window, perplexed at the number of vehicles hovering near him on all sides.

"I'll explain once you are here. They are looking for a guy who can do an assignment on them. Josh thinks you'd be best."

Josh was his boss. A capable commander of travel enthusiast and photographers, romantics and poets, he knew exactly where a person’s buttons lay. He rarely pushed them.

"What's wrong with his cell? I tried to call him like a hundred times!" he said, knowing he was exaggerating, and only half-caring.

"Yes, that. Something's wrong with it. Seems he threw it on his couch, from where it slipped and fell into a pool of coffee which had slipped out of his hands after he saw the news for the first time."

He felt he had seen this happening somewhere. "Maybe in some movie..." he murmured.

"What?"

"Oh! Nothing. Thought I had a Déjà-Vu. Anyway, I will catch you soon. I am on the skyway. Be there in 15 minutes." 

"Bye"

He pocketed his phone and looked out the window again. Flying in his car on the skyway had always made him uneasy, even after fifteen years of driving like this. The fact that people could crash into him from any direction always disturbed him. The introduction of specific direction-to-height ratio rules had reduced the number of crashes considerably. But there were still some nuts out there that refused to follow the rules. Many never even used auto-pilot! He shuddered at the thought.

He reached his office to find it in complete pandemonium. The wide, marble corridors were filled with people chattering with anyone they could get a hold on about the news. The water-cooler was getting more attention than most days. It seemed like no work was getting done, and people were happy at this state of affairs. They had lots to discuss and they were glad everyone was busy with their own versions of the news so no one could tell them to stop talking and get back to work. He saw his own team stretching relaxedly in the conference room, comparing notes on what had happened in the morning.

He decided to pop in to the conference room before going to meet Josh. "Back to work, fellas" he said, which was met by groans from around the table. 

"And Anna, I want a complete report on what was discussed here on my desk before you go home today" he said, not looking at Anna, who immediately sat up straight and nodded politely.

He backed off and went to find Josh. He saw Freddy coming towards him, and gave him his iPod. He flexed and stretched the edges of the iPod to increase its size, and touched the screen. He read the digital news report on the landings that had taken place early in the morning. Fresh reports were coming as he read, changing the screen dynamically, adding and removing photos and words. 

Josh came from behind and slapped him on his back, friendly and excited. "My cabin, two minutes" he said and jogged away.

He smiled at Freddy, who smiled back and they went their separate ways. 

He opened the door of Josh's cabin and sat down on the couch next to the huge television. Live reports were streaming in about how the 'visitors' were behaving very politely, almost as excited of us as we were of them.

"Alien life forms" said Josh, entering the cabin through an inner door, "A new being. New cultures, languages, beliefs, cuisines, superstitions, hate, love, wars and religions. A new planet. At 7:37 AM today, the lives of nine billion people on this planet, and many billions of life-forms on their planet, changed forever. We've finally made contact. And what a contact it has been. You remember how Schrödinger had argued that the first contact with alien species would be through radio signals, not face-to-face? I would love to look at his face right now! Ha!" he laughed contently for some time before continuing:

"Forgive the cliché, but it’s clear that they've come in peace. They are excitedly participating in everything that our military is asking them to do, for our safety and theirs. They have already undergone a severe medical check, and they have happily consented to be quarantined for the next 48 hours. They understand the need for quarantine" he paused, and said, "Have you seen them?"

"No, Sir. When I saw the news in the morning, they were showing only their space ship. It looks impressive."

"Yes, it is. Once we know where they've come from, we will be even more shocked at its capabilities. We have a picture of one of them here" he clicked a button on his remote, and the picture on the TV changed to show a blue crystalline form, with recognizable arms, legs, upper body and face. The eyes were soft, squarish and a duller shade of the same blue. The being was wearing what looked like a translucent leather jacket, covering most of his body, except the top of his 'skull', which was left open to the sky. He looked at this 'man' in complete amazement. A thousand questions popped in his head.

"It’s confusing isn't it?" he asked Josh.

Josh smiled. "That's exactly how I feel. And that's why I need you on this case. When I spilt my coffee this morning, I had an idea. You ready for this?"

"Yes..." he said, tentatively.

"I've just had it whispered from our White House guy that our friendly aliens are here to stay for the next two years. In these two years, they will be establishing a consulate of sorts on Earth, among other things. Washington will obviously think of sending our own people to their planet as envoys. I want you to go with them - as the first explorer from Earth" Josh continued before he could protest, "You will learn their major languages, travel their world, eat their food, talk with their celebrities, and explore the unexplored - in short, you will do whatever you do here on Earth, but you will be doing it on their planet. You will be the first spatial adventurer!"

He stared at Josh, aghast. "Josh..." he said, unable to form words to use against his clearly crazy idea, "we don't even know how far away their planet is, how long they've been traveling to reach Earth..."

"Oh yes we do. It took them 21 months of near-light speed flight to reach here."

"How do you know this?" he asked, his eyes narrow with suspicion.

"Does it matter? Look, it's a great opportunity! After all the generations of humans that have lived through the mundane years of lonely existence in this huge universe, you will be the first to interact with the first alien life forms ever encountered. You will be the first traveler to go beyond the realms of dreams! You will be the first to visit a different planet, an alien planet. I don't know what's stopping you from taking this assignment. I'd have jumped at the opportunity." he finished in mock anger.

"I am ready for it, Josh" he said, finding a loop-hole, "but what makes you so confident that we will be permitted to interfere at such a high diplomatic level? One small mistake and we're talking 'war of the worlds' here. The President won't let a writer and photographer like me tag along with the 'crystal-thingy'."

"Let me worry about that, okay? Final answer now...are you in?" he asked, his voice signaling his seriousness.

He thought about it for just two seconds. "I am in" he said, secretly ecstatic.

"Alright, make a complete report about them - End of the day, my desk. I want a name for them, something which we can understand, and I want to know what they call themselves. I want to know their language, their eating habits, about that spaceship, anything you can find out. I don't care if you have to break through their quarantine or learn their language to interrogate them, I need answers by tonight. We've got to be first.

"Yes, Sir".

Prologue.

He packed his bags with the concentration and intensity a Japanese Samurai would have paid before committing Seppuku. He had been packing for hours now. He knew he was distracted, and the fact that he recognized that he was distracted but not doing anything about it, distracted him further. Frustrated, he shook his head and walked towards the window. It showed acres and acres of vast open fields, neatly bordered by lush green woods. Far off in the horizon, he could see the sun reflected on the lake. 

He decided that the thing he would miss the most after he was gone were trees. "I don't know when I'll get to see a tree again..." he said to himself.

As he turned his attention back to his still unpacked-bags, he agreed this was his toughest assignment yet, and definitely the longest. He would be gone for years. Whole chunks of his life would be spent away from his family, his friends, his home... He stopped thinking and told himself to take things one at a time. "Packing first..." he said and got down to business, fresher and more now.

They had given a compulsory list of things to bring. Some items would be provided to him before and during the flight. And many were available as fixed standard items on the flight itself. He checked the things he had packed - his electric toothbrush and a normal one, four different kinds of camera, a transparent vacuum shell for his camera to shoot underwater, loads of batteries, notepads and pens, his iPod and finally his laptop. He had already confirmed the fact that electricity was easily available where he was going, so running his appliances wouldn't be a problem. 

The government had also given him a special diplomatic passport, pure white in color, and an ID card identifying him as an envoy with special privileges. This would allow him to bypass most securities, and give him permission to enter sensitive zones, as long as he did not interfere with matters involving the other government. He had been briefed about these and other sensitive issues for the past two years. 

"Two years...time well spent. I learnt a lot" he thought, not saying these words out loud. He thought about the training sessions involving basic language training, flight control, human flight, diplomacy, combat and weapons training. He remembered the first time he flew and smiled. He remembered the first time he had shot a gun and his smile dulled. He took out the gun they had given him from its hiding place under the felt of the suitcase. He knew he would have to use it, at least once. 

He tossed the gun back into its place and zipped the bag. He was done packing. He knew he would forget to remember something, but that's what traveling is all about, he thought. "Right..." he said as he made a last check of his bed to see if he had remembered to forget something, and found that he had not. Taking that as a good omen, he swung the bag off the bed and placed it in the small elevator, along with his large rucksack. He pressed a button on the side, and the elevator zipped the bags off to the KSC. 

Now, free with his thoughts for the first time in days, he sat on his bed, back erect and mind alert and positive. He knew he had to stay positive if he was to survive the next god-knows-how-many years. He had no idea when he'd be back. 'Maybe I won't...'

A shrill horn disturbed him from his reverie. He looked out to see that his cab had arrived. He stepped out from his window and climbed into the back seat of the flying taxi. As it flew up, he looked down to see for one last time, his home, which was slowly diminishing in size. He knew he'd cherish this memory. As the view became unbearable, he turned and looked away, and realized with utter conviction and desperate sadness that he won't. 

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