Sunday, September 4, 2011

The Dream...


(This is a story I wrote sometime back. I made a few changes today... If you like it, please comment. And please say its nice only if you really liked it)

I am afraid they will change me back. What my wife told me when this all started is stuck in my head forever. If I ever find more than one reason to suspect, I must be very scared. One mistake can happen, but two things pointing in the wrong direction is too much of a coincidence, she said. Doctor Shruti, my charming wife, was a senior scientist at an organization that does not exist. Four days back, she died of brain hemorrhage. As a civilian, she has already been dead for 2 years now. Both of us died in a car crash on November 4, 2019. They said it was necessary that we die if we wanted to realize our dream. That was when she told me- Two things out of place in one of the biggest and most secret research facilities in the world cannot just be coincidence.
                So here I am, lying inside a dark tube, with the one person I love separated from me forever. And the only other thing that makes me want to live about to be taken away from me. A lot of people believe in evolution and fate and destiny. But what really decides the course of mankind is always a decision, one that is the outcome of a debate between two groups of people. The decision made and the group silenced makes all the difference. Shruti always talked about this and the two kinds of people there are- People with a great vision, willing to give away everything to realize it. Then there are the others around them who will do everything they can to stop these visionaries from achieving that goal. And they do that only because it was his friend or colleague, but not him, who shall make something wonderful happen and have his name etched in the annals of history for his contributions to science and mankind. This is not something very uncommon. Even a simple guy, who cheers for his favorite player and celebrates when that player scores a goal, would get frustrated if one of his teammates scores more goals than him and everyone start praising that other guy. It burns them when they see someone else become a hero when they have not. The worst manifestation of this jealousy is when policy makers, managers and head scientists envy a scientist who is about to make an incredibly great contribution to mankind. I never gave a serious thought to this. But now, that is all that matters. I stay here in this dark tube right now, struggling to make the ultimate decision.
                Ace pilot, Air Commodore Bharat, winner of the ParamVir Chakra. My biggest honor came when I was chosen to fly the Avatar- M2 for its first flight. The Avatar-M2 is the manned version of the hypersonic airplane that has been seen as a powerful and versatile alternative to NASA’s Space Shuttles. The shuttles had been pulled out of retirement to allow the US to be competent in space exploration, but the Avatar is sure to make them obsolete. Developed indigenously by ISRO and HAL, designed to put satellites in orbit more efficiently than any other existing launch vehicles, the Avatar M2 is an absolute beauty. The sheer power, the sleek design, the sharp controls and a design speed of Mach 35 (about 6 km/s at cruise altitude) - everything a pilot would dream of.
                The first test flight for the Avatar-M2 was scheduled for October 25, 2019. She was sitting on the longest runway of the newly commissioned air-force base in Thiruvananthapuram- “Kalam Airfield”. A 3 day count down, engine tests, equipment tests, hardware and software validation, space-suit pressurization, 20 minutes of waiting in the cockpit, cabin pressurization, a long checklist and a hundred other tests, I was finally ready for Take-Off. At 10: 13 AM, everything was ready and I was just waiting for the launch control to give me a “Go for Take-off”. This was it. In a couple of minutes, I would take the most advanced aircraft on its maiden flight, hopefully stay alive, break all speed and altitude records, perform its first sub-orbital flight and land in the same airstrip after a couple of hours. The press was there, taking photographs. Running on the back of my mind was the thought that among these photographs would be the one that would be celebrated by aviators for centuries. The moment was ecstatic. Air traffic had been cleared for several hundred miles along my planned flight path. You do not wait for take-off because of some air traffic when the Indian president himself is waiting for you to take-off. The mission control started counting me in.
                Earlier versions of the aircraft were carried to a 30,000 feet altitude in the belly of jumbo jets and “dropped” from them before the hybrid RAM-jet engines took over to propel the aircraft. But this has proved expensive and inefficient. After 4 years of testing and development, it has been finally decided to launch the aircraft from the ground, on an extremely long runway. A SCRAM-jet engine that would operate at speeds above Mach 5 (1,500 km/h) has replaced the hybrid RAM-jets. Solid rocket boosters had been installed into the rear fuselage to accelerate the plane to supersonic speeds. They would provide an acceleration of over 12-g for 15 seconds after which they burnout and separate. It was decided that mission control would fire the rocket engines instead of the pilot. Sitting in the cockpit, I understood why it was the best thing to do. I was taken over by emotions- pride, fear, ecstasy, happiness. 15 seconds to take-off, everything else faded and only 1 thing remained- fear. I knew that the next half a minute was going to decide the fate of the mission and my own life. The instructions were simple- after the engines fire, climb as high as possible. I would need all the altitude I can reach so that I would have time to respond before a crash. According to the flight plan, while the rocket boosters are firing, the Avatar would be controlled by the on-board computer and I would then switch to manual when the SCRAM-jets have ignited. In case of an emergency, I could always take over even when the Avatar is in auto-pilot with the flip of a switch. I had complete confidence in the computer, still, I held the stick very firmly, took a deep breath and sat listening to mission control’s countdown, waiting for the rockets to fire.
                THREE...... TWO........ ONE.... BLAST OFF! There was a violent jerk, the rockets had fired. The Avatar was fast accelerating and vigorously shaking. About 3 seconds into the flight, she lifted off the ground, the wheels left contact and were immediately retracted. She was making a rapid ascent. I suddenly felt a chill down my spine. I was totally shaken. The plane should have climbed to more than 600 meter at T plus 7 seconds. The altimeter was showing only about 400 meter. Before I could figure out what was happening, the nose suddenly dived. This is the part where everything they taught you becomes useless. Only your instincts and those hundreds of flight hours in the log book can save you. In just a few seconds, I fell down to only about 200 meter above ground, but I managed to level off. The beauty was revealing the beast in it. When I had been selected to test-fly the Avatar, I knew what was in store for me. I knew the odds of dying were far greater than those of staying alive. Yet I had total faith in the team of engineers that built the Avatar and ever since I saw her, I was always waiting to jump into her and take her for a ride.
The dive and fall were not totally unexpected however. It always happens when you accelerate to supersonic speeds, but never at just 400 meter above the ground. I was riding the most complex machine ever built for the first time and the unexpected was bound to happen. Two challenges had been overcome, the final one, the take-over of the SCRAMJET from the rocket motor still remained. Two decades of research and testing could not totally eliminate the starting problems. I needed every bit of luck I could get.
                The airspeed was still going up, the Avatar climbed to 900 meter. The rockets started to regress, the monstrous sound made by them was dying out. At that moment I prayed, for the first time in 15 years. “Go for main engine start” I heard over the intercom. I had enough speed to start my SCRAM-jets. I looked at the readings on some of my gauges, flipped a switch and pressed a couple of buttons. In a second the SCRAMJET sprung into life. I turned back and over the razor-sharp shining wings saw the reflection of the exhaust jet, slowly but surely building up. Shruti's words before I climbed into the cockpit started to echo in my ears, "It's going to be alright". I re-checked my gauges, all systems were normal. It was indeed alright. There wouldn't be another loss of control. The only issue now was the intense heating, but I knew I could take it. A tiny explosion and the rocket boosters separated from the Avatar. She climbed and accelerated and in less than 20 minutes, I was flying at 80 km, Mach 34. The hundreds of sensors around me started beeping and buzzing. I had to stay at the altitude for 50 minutes and then start my descent. At T plus 137 minutes, I was scheduled to land at the same landing strip I took-off from.
                I was cruising at an 80 km altitude. The atmosphere was too thin. Without the protection of the atmosphere, the blazing sun was unbearable and I had to use a screen to block out the sun’s light falling directly on my face. The stars, more than a 1000 times of what you could see from within the atmosphere, were all clearly visible now even when the sun was shining brilliantly in the sky. They were not twinkling little stars, but very sharp, bright spots in the sky. I was flying way above the clouds and could clearly see the thunderstorms at the equator. The vast blue ocean was now not totally blue, but had infinite shades of blue, white and gray due to the waves and the ocean beds and the currents. I crossed over to the darker side of the earth. The earth was still dimly lit by the sunlight reflected off the moon and the other planets. The sleeping cities of the west glowed in yellow with all their light bulbs. Major highways could be seen as streaks of yellow. Glowing cities below, bright stars above, the moon with its thousands of craters, the sun setting behind me and just about to rise ahead of me over the horizon. If there was anything more beautiful than looking into the happy eyes of the person you love, this was it.
With still more than an hour left before to land, with the danger of a crash landing still very probable, sitting inside a cockpit at 50 celsius, I started to wonder if all my dreams had come true. I flew every kind of airplane there is, from the piper cubs to the Supersonic fighters and occasionally even the jumbo jets. Aviators and scientists from all over the world would now be waiting for me to land. My name would go down in history. Chuck Yeager, the first man to break the sonic barrier, would be infinitely envious of me. I was expecting to be promoted to the rank of Air Marshal in a month, they always did that to “National Heroes”. I was married to the best girl I ever knew. We did not have kids yet but were planning to have some soon when we feel we can spend enough time with the kids. There was still something missing, something I had always wanted but took to be impossible. All those years, I had been living in rejection. Hidden beneath the desire to fly higher and faster with more and more powerful machines was the dream to be soaring in the skies, feeling the wind on my face, without any fancy instruments over my shoulders- this is what freedom now means to me. It was this dream that made me start flying airplanes. I convinced myself that I could never fly like a bird with my own power. But now I feel most desperate to do that.
                While all this was going in my mind, a small talk I had with my wife only 2 weeks earlier emerged clearly- it was like destiny calling me. For 8 years, she had been working on an idea that could make my dream come true. She said she could give super human-like power to a simple human being. The idea was simple. In normal athletic activities such as running or playing football, about 450 kcal or energy is spent per hour. By making some alterations in the muscular structures, introducing new kinds of cells and cell elements and adding a certain kind of catalyst, she said she could make a certain group of muscles 20 times more powerful than it normally is. It could make a sprinter run 100 meter in 3 seconds, or even make a man fly, she said. And then it was all very clear to me. I would persuade her to make a man fly, make me fly. I would do everything I can to get this project approved and funded. Being the first man to fly a hypersonic plane, I knew I could make good use of this fame to get things done.
                I was flying at 10 km at Mach 14, all this going through my mind, when I heard a voice over the intercom "Avatar M2 100, Power down to idle and descend to level 150. Repeat Power down to idle and descend to level 150 (15,000 feet)". I was back into reality. I put the engine to idle and descended. I was back to the airfield on schedule. The engine shut down long back when the speed dropped to Mach 1.8. I had been gliding since then without power, with only a very small emergency engine for course corrections. I approached the airfield and could see a huge crowd near the runway. I was cleared to land even before I took-off. I finally landed, the wheels and the braking system did well and the plane came to a stop without any issues. I knew a lot would happen in the next few days and I would meet a lot of people, but the only thing I thought of was to get my own wings and fly. There were compliments, interviews, photographs, documentaries,… The whole world was stunned. India was now the world leader in hypersonic flight. And without doubt it only meant India was soon going to be the world leader in space exploration. The president congratulated me. There were high-fives everywhere. Shruti was there, waiting for me, in tears. At that moment, all I wanted was to go to her and hug her tightly. But I was not allowed to get in contact with anyone till some quarantine tests were done. I waited it out. I then ran towards Shruti and gave her a hug. I couldn’t stay with her for long and was dragged away by the administration for congratulations and interviews. That night at 10 PM, I finally got to go back home and spend time with her in peace. It felt great to be together again.
                The next morning, she was getting ready to get back to work. The past few days she was with me all the time, watching my last minute preparations, going through the safety procedures, giving me strength when I was worried. I asked her to sit down beside me and said, "Tell me everything about your research". She was blank for a moment, she did not expect that to be the first thing in the morning after that sensational flight of mine. She looked at me for a while and then smiled; showing that she understood this was no casual question.
                The muscle fibres may be classified mainly into 2 types- 'slow twitch', which supply small amounts of strength for extended periods of time and the 'fast twitch', which can be very strong but cannot hold out for more than a few seconds. Shruti said it was possible to increase the count of the fast twitch fibres through surgery and a training and diet routine. A special kind of tissue embedded into the muscle group would serve to rapidly break down and oxidize the glycogen stored in the muscles. This also required large amounts of some extremely pure platinum-based compounds which served as a catalyst for some of the reactions. This new tissue would be connected to the nervous system so that the subject could decide when he needs the extra boost. To fly, I only needed artificial wings attached to my arms. This was all on paper and was yet to be tested on human beings, though the standard rat and monkey tests gave positive results. The biggest bottleneck for the project was the extremely high cost. The oxidizer tissues had to be replaced very frequently and the catalysts sufficient for only about an hour's boosting could be injected in the body without poisoning the blood of the subject. The subject would have to undergo a very painful surgery every time either the catalyst or the tissue had to be replaced. The project was very ambitious and its implications were ground-breaking.
                After she explained to me all that, I knew she expected me to tell her why I was so keen. So I said, "Listen dear, I know this is really surprising. But I want to volunteer for your project. I will help you to get all the clearances and the funding. I want you to make me fly. That is the one thing that keeps me awake most of the nights. Do this for me." She knew I was very serious about this and she knew I thought this over. She was quiet for a while and then said she was too glad to hear that. Being a first star officer and a test pilot for the Indian Air Force, I had to spend long periods of time away from her. This would again let us stay together. More than anything, that was the reason that convinced her to consider this. More over, she needed a brave man who would really commit himself to the project. She needed someone she could trust. For me, it was a dream.
                The next two months, I spent pulling strings, persuading policy makers and scientific advisors to give this project a go ahead. I told my commanding officer all about my dream and how desperately I wanted this to happen for me and Shruti. I knew he would understand but was still worried since he would not want to lose an officer, now a celebrity, if the project started. But he encouraged me. I even managed to get a message from the president himself recommending the project. And so it was finally approved. No one could know of our existence once the project started and so on November 5, 2019, newspapers around the world reported the death of Air cdre. Bharat and Dr. Shruti Bharat in a car crash. That evening, both of us got our first official briefing at the "Agency for Scientific and Defense Research", the most secret research organization in the country. 
                In movies, you could become an insect or an animal by just being bitten by a radioactive insect or through a random genetic mutation at birth. In reality, it does not happen that way. The project was to go on for 4 years and in the end I would make a 45-km flight with my own wings. The first three months went on well. Shruti was going through even the most minor detail and was getting a grand schedule ready for the project. I was taking lectures on anatomy of humans and birds, the dynamics of flapping flight and strengthening my pectorals (the muscles in the chest). Every once in a while, me and Shruti would have a pep talk, grab a cup of coffee, have lunch together and see how each other's work is going. It had been a really long time since we were so close to each other for full days.
                In March 2020, the painful part of it started. The surgeries and tests started. Almost every day I would be injected with sedatives and some part of my body would be examined. In time I started developing resistance for some of the sedatives. I could not sleep, sometimes even breathing had to be forced. Shruti had a tough time too, working throughout the day and watching me take all the pain. But I trusted her, I knew she would never let me down and there was absolutely no danger to me. She did everything she could to see that nothing would happen to me. My shoulder joint was replaced- the natural joint is not flexible enough for flapping flight. Then after a week's time to recover to normal, the skin over my chest was ripped off. The muscle fibres had to be converted. Some old ones were cut, new ones developed, allowed to grow, the skin allowed to heal. The whole thing took 3 entire days before I was unconscious for 5 days. A specially developed titanium-aluminium alloy was integrated to my arms. Something resembling a hook was inserted in my arms, abdomen and my feet. These would be used to hold the wing and the tail. An extremely strong and light armour was also being designed to protect me in case of crashes.
                On July 4, 2020, Shruti woke me up. She softly kissed on my forehead, took hold of my hand and whispered, "You are now ready". I could see from the look on her face that she had been crying every night since this started for me. The work was also becoming too heavy for her. She was not taking the break she was long overdue. Neither of us could now turn back. The only way was to make this work. That is our dream.
                I was not allowed to do anything for the next few weeks, my body had to recover from all the violence it was subjected to. I spent my time watching Shruti work, examining all the facilities, going through the schedule planned for me and being briefed for the training that was to start later. This was no more a dream. It is for real, happening. A group of 30 strongly committed people were giving their best to make me fly. In August, my training started. My diet was strictly regulated. I started working out on machines, specially designed strengthen the muscles required for flight. A pair of wings was made out of an extremely strong titanium alloy. I was put in wind tunnels to learn balancing myself.
                After 4 months of indoor training, the time finally came for me to fly outside. My dream was about to come true. My armor was mounted on me. The wings were carefully attached to my arms and my legs. I took my new boost and got my tissues changed just the night before and had a good night’s sleep with Shruti on my side. I was all set. A tower, about 20 meter long, was built beside the pond in the facility. I was to dive from the tower. That would be my maiden flight. I climbed it up. I could feel a gentle breeze over my face. I waited to feel the moment. Waiting on the ground was my wife, nervous. And proud. There had been an instruction manual. More like a “Flying for dummies in 30 days”. I went through it a hundred times. I did not care about the manual. I wanted to do it my way. After all, it was me who flew every kind of airplane, including the only manned hypersonic airplane, not the guys who wrote that manual. And I dived, arms stuck to my body, feet pointed, not extending my wings. For almost a second, I was just making a free fall. Everyone was shocked. They did not expect me to be so stupid when it came this far. It was like time had slowed down. I could feel the wind on my face. I could see Shruti standing there, totally surprised. I smiled at her. I looked down at the water. And then I stretched out my wings, turned my ankles, made a 90 degree turn and I started gliding over the water. I was only about 8 meters over the water surface and I could clearly see the water ripples. The joy I felt when I was flying over the pond with my wings spread is beyond words. I flew towards Shruti to look closely into her eyes. I had not seen her so happy in years. The dream has started to become reality, for me and for her.
                The training was not, however, without any incidents. There was a day when I almost died. I was told that I could only take a limited amount of the catalyst into the body, the optimum concentration. More of it would intoxicate my blood. Less of it would give me lesser flying time. Each time I needed a reload, the skin over my shoulders had to be ripped off, the existing catalyst was sucked out from the tissue and a fresh paste was deposited. The first few times it was long and painful. But later on, as they got more efficient at it and I got more used to it, the surgery took only about 20 minutes. Each reload gave me about an hour of flying time. But Shruti never allowed me to push for it. She said that as I fly longer and longer, my energy levels drop down as most of the glycogen is used up and I would get dizzy or even unconscious as the catalyst products diffusing into the blood circulate through the brain. I did not really understand everything she said, but the look on her face told me I was never supposed to let that happen.
                February 12, 2021 was the day. We had moved from diving from towers. Sometimes, they use a launcher that would push me to speed of about 30 km/h. Sometimes I would dive from small airplanes from about 500 feet. I got about 10 minutes of flying time this way compared to the 1 minute from the tower. I always had to carry a parachute for safety. I had already made 4 flights that day and this was going to be my last. I jumped, stretched my wings and started heading towards my landing point. 100 feet off the plane, a thermal storm came out of nowhere and hit me. I had no experience with violent winds and this was my first. Opening out my parachute would only blow me away. My only option was to try flying, as hard as I can. I never flapped- no experience, no instincts to save me here. I was trying hard to stay in the air. I must have fought hard for atleast 5 minutes. The next thing I knew, I woke up with Shruti sitting beside me, holding a bouquet of flowers and a card. We never really celebrated Valentine’s day, nor any other such days. But this time it was really special for her. When that wind blew and I tried to flap hard, I lost consciousness and crashed to the ground. The armor I was wearing reduced the impact, but I was very severely wounded. It took me 2 days and I woke up with 2 broken joints. For 2 days she was sitting there with some flowers, waiting for me to wake up. And finally, I did.
                June 13, 2021. I was having dinner with Shruti. She had been working too hard and I kept telling her that, she wouldn’t listen. She wanted to create more efficient tissues and cleaner catalysts so that I wouldn’t have to go through a surgery every other day. She had already made a lot of progress. I can now get more than 2 hours of flying between reloads and the new solution she recently made might give me 3 hours. The pressure from the managing group also started to build up on her. The project was getting too expensive. Despite the encouraging results, they wanted to shut this down as soon as possible. She started talking about the two groups of people. That would be the last time. I could see she wasn’t comfortable. She said she keeps getting headaches quite often due to all the stress. I was rested very often, but she, she never took a break. She started to feel a little dizzy, I said I would take her to bed. As she got off her chair, she suddenly collapsed. I immediately took her to the hospital. They said she was no more.
                I did not move or talk for 5 days. Then I finally woke up. I could not take Shruti’s death. She mattered the most to me. Even after 5 days, I was in a shock. I refused to do anything for about a week after she left me. A week before that, I was realizing my dream and Shruti was the biggest part of it.
Now I felt totally empty inside. I slowly started to recover from it. I had been informed that the schedule for the project was changed. It was condensed to only 3 years instead of 4 years they said. I was to attempt flapping flight in a month’s time, while the original schedule had it only after 8 months. I could see the first thing that was out of place.
I was taking my reload. The surgery took 45 minutes this time. And the next time too it took about an hour. The second thing going wrong. And the biggest of all, Shruti wasn’t with me now. I knew these bastards were now after my wings. The officers, the policy-makers, they were jealous of my Shruti’s work. They just would not let her or me or our team realize this dream. They would not allow anyone else to become more famous or more important than them. I could feel this in the air. I knew I had to make a decision.
So, here I am in this dark tube, the launcher that would launch me. What was once a dream has now become real. Going back to the old times is only a nightmare now. Everything Shruti did for me, all the sacrifices she made, all the tears she shed, all the nights she stayed awake, just to give me these wings to fly. All of that going to be wasted. The person I loved the most is not with me now. The dream I had been living is about to be snatched away. After everything I have done, what would matter to me now without Shruti and without my wings? I am not even alive. The newspapers declared me dead 2 years back. Right now, the only things I have are my wings. But I am afraid they will change me back. I will not let that happen. There would be the STOL (short take-off and landing) airplane scheduled to take-off only 500 meter away from my launcher. It will be taking off very soon. That is my only means to escape from here. I have pushed my launch so that I could catch that plane. Last night, I asked them to load on the new solution Shruti had developed before she died. It was not tested, but it may give me 3 hours.
What shall I do even if I escape? I cannot go anywhere. Do I want to go anywhere? If I fly on course, I would have my wings for a few weeks, or may be months more. Then they would be stripped off. I would not get any reloads. I will have artificial shoulders and alloys in my arms. If I go for the plane, I may get sucked into the engine. The plane may hit me hard. I may not make it on time. I can never fly again after the 3 hours. If I push for the full three hours, I wouldn’t even know what would happen after that. Shruti always warned me, if I try to push for more time, I will lose my consciousness and if the team does not happen to find me, I would die in a coma.
I could hear the voice on my earphone asking if I was ready to go. I can hear the engine of that plane starting up. It would take it about a minute to warm up and get clear for take-off. I would take about half a minute to reach the airfield. This is it. I make my call now. To stay or to escape. After all, I have been waiting for years just for this moment, to fly like a bird, free in the skies, flapping my own wings. I close my eyes. I take a deep breath. “Okay doc, I’m all set to go free from here”, and the sea is just about 3 hours from here.
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