The Return of Vaman - A Scientific Novel Read online

  Science and Fiction

  Series Editors

  Mark Alpert, Philip Ball, Gregory Benford, Michael Brotherton, Victor Callaghan, Amnon H Eden, Nick Kanas, Geoffrey Landis, Rudi Rucker, Dirk Schulze-Makuch, Rüdiger Vaas, Ulrich Walter and Stephen Webb

  Science and Fiction—A Springer Series

  This collection of entertaining and thought-provoking books will appeal equally to science buffs, scientists and science-fiction fans. It was born out of the recognition that scientific discovery and the creation of plausible fictional scenarios are often two sides of the same coin. Each relies on an understanding of the way the world works, coupled with the imaginative ability to invent new or alternative explanations–and even other worlds. Authored by practicing scientists as well as writers of hard science fiction, these books explore and exploit the borderlands between accepted science and its fictional counterpart. Uncovering mutual influences, promoting fruitful interaction, narrating and analyzing fictional scenarios, together they serve as a reaction vessel for inspired new ideas in science, technology, and beyond.

  Whether fiction, fact, or forever undecidable: the Springer Series “Science and Fiction” intends to go where no one has gone before!

  Its largely non-technical books take several different approaches. Journey with their authors as they

  Indulge in science speculation—describing intriguing, plausible yet unproven ideas;

  Exploit science fiction for educational purposes and as a means of promoting critical thinking;

  Explore the interplay of science and science fiction—throughout the history of the genre and looking ahead;

  Delve into related topics including, but not limited to: science as a creative process, the limits of science, interplay of literature and knowledge;

  Tell fictional short stories built around well-defined scientific ideas, with a supplement summarizing the science underlying the plot.

  Readers can look forward to a broad range of topics, as intriguing as they are important. Here are just a few by way of illustration:

  Time travel, superluminal travel, wormholes, teleportation

  Extraterrestrial intelligence and alien civilizations

  Artificial intelligence, planetary brains, the universe as a computer, simulated worlds

  Non-anthropocentric viewpoints

  Synthetic biology, genetic engineering, developing nanotechnologies

  Eco/infrastructure/meteorite-impact disaster scenarios

  Future scenarios, transhumanism, posthumanism, intelligence explosion

  Virtual worlds, cyberspace dramas

  Consciousness and mind manipulation

  Jayant V. Narlikar

  The Return of Vaman—A Scientific Novel

  Jayant V. NarlikarInter-University Centre for Astronomy and Astrophysics, Pune, India

  ISSN 2197-1188e-ISSN 2197-1196

  ISBN 978-3-319-16428-1e-ISBN 978-3-319-16429-8

  DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-16429-8

  Springer Cham Heidelberg New York Dordrecht London

  © Springer International Publishing Switzerland 2015

  This work is subject to copyright. All rights are reserved by the Publisher, whether the whole or part of the material is concerned, specifically the rights of translation, reprinting, reuse of illustrations, recitation, broadcasting, reproduction on microfilms or in any other physical way, and transmission or information storage and retrieval, electronic adaptation, computer software, or by similar or dissimilar methodology now known or hereafter developed.

  The use of general descriptive names, registered names, trademarks, service marks, etc. in this publication does not imply, even in the absence of a specific statement, that such names are exempt from the relevant protective laws and regulations and therefore free for general use.

  The publisher, the authors and the editors are safe to assume that the advice and information in this book are believed to be true and accurate at the date of publication. Neither the publisher nor the authors or the editors give a warranty, express or implied, with respect to the material contained herein or for any errors or omissions that may have been made.

  Printed on acid-free paper

  Springer International Publishing is part of Springer Science+Business Media (www.springer.com)

  Preface

  It gives me great pleasure to present this sample of my science fiction work to the international reader. So far my sci-fi stories and novels have only been published within India where they have received a warm welcome. However, this happens to be the first occasion when a novel and a short story are being jointly published by Springer.

  Since this is the first time that my science fiction is being projected abroad, the publisher made the very pertinent suggestion that I also write an introductory article describing my association with this form of literature. It is all the more pertinent because by profession I am a scientist working in the field of astrophysics. This exercise includes a brief description of my background and why and how I got into writing sci fi. Knowing full well that other sci fi writers may have different viewpoints, I felt that I should stick to my own views in a personalized autobiographical statement.

  Life in India is inextricably mixed with Indian mythology and this shows up in the two examples of sci fi presented here. This is peculiar to India, and one may wonder how ancient myths can be combined with futuristic ideas that arise in sci fi. Thus Ganesha and Vaman are part of those myths but, through various rituals, they have become part of our modern world of jets, computers and cell phones. So why not take a step into the future and integrate them into science fiction?

  Anyway, since my views in extenso are given in my introductory article, I will be brief here. It only remains for me to thank the Springer publication staff, and in particular Chris Caron, for a very helpful interaction. Their help and advice are much appreciated.

  January, 2015

  Inter-University Centre for Astronomy and Astrophysics

  Pune, India

  Jayant V. Narlikar

  Contents

  Part I A Short Story: Ganesha (1975)

  The Rare Idol of Ganesha

  Part II The Return of Vaman (1986)

  The Container

  Guru

  Vaman

  Part III The Science Behind the Fiction

  Sci-Fi and I:​ Science Fiction from a Personal Perspective

  Part I

  A Short Story: Ganesha (1975)

  © Springer International Publishing Switzerland 2015

  Jayant V. NarlikarThe Return of Vaman - A Scientific NovelScience and Fiction10.1007/978-3-319-16429-8_1

  The Rare Idol of Ganesha

  Jayant V. Narlikar1

  (1)Inter-University Centre for Astronomy and Astrophysics, Pune, India

  Jayant V. Narlikar

  Email: [email protected]

  As I stepped off the bus outside the Oval, I had a premonition that I was going to witness something unusual. Today, looking back after the events, I see no reason to account for that premonition, but then aren’t premonitions, by definition, unaccountable? So far as I can see, the only thing unusual was that I had found time to watch a test match live; and this was fully accountable. As I presented my complimentary pass at the gate I fingered the note which accompanied it:

  14 August 2005

  Dear John,

  I sincerely request you to watch my performance in what is going to be my final test appearance. Hope you can make it!

  Regards,

  Sincerely yours,

  Pramod Rangnekar

  Pramod and I were Cambridge blues in the team which won the Varsity match in ’89. Late
r, Pramod became a professional, rising to great heights as his performances against the West Indies, Australia and the M.C.C. have testified. I, regrettably, gave up cricket altogether, such were the demands of my work as an Indologist and (now) as a museum curator. Indeed it came as a shock to me that I was visiting a cricket ground after 15 years!

  Today was the second day’s play and I had chosen this day because India was going to field and I would be able to watch Pramod in action. Yesterday, on a perfect wicket in bright sunshine India was expected to amass a huge score. However, the Indian batsmen did not fulfill these expectations and England was left to face a relatively modest first innings score of 308.

  The second day’s play began quietly with no hint of what was to come. In one hour the England openers Willis and Jones put up a score of 40 for no loss. After the drinks, the Indian captain Bhandari called in Rangnekar to bowl—and the unusual chain of events was set in motion.

  Pramod was greeted with great applause which had an element of sympathy about it. For, as all followers of the game knew, this was his last test. Indeed, during this series his performance had been indifferent. The old fire and magic had gone from his bowling, which could now be easily ‘read’ by the England batsmen. There had been an increasing demand that Pramod be dropped from the team. Nevertheless, the selectors once again plumped for experience, rather than quality and gave him this last chance. Would he live up to their expectations?

  The first hint of the unusual came when Pramod prepared to bowl, “Right arm, over the wicket?” asked umpire Coates, who was familiar with his style of bowling. “No,” said Pramod to the umpire’s surprise. “Left arm over the wicket.”

  Pramod had never bowled with his left arm. Even Bhandari was puzzled and wanted to discourage Pramod. However, Pramod persisted. “OK, I will allow the old … one over of this nonsense,” muttered Bhandari to himself.

  By now the commentators on radio and TV had learnt of Pramod’s intention and had started commenting on it. How could a right-handed bowler suddenly decide to bowl left-handed? And that too in a test match when his side badly needed a wicket? This was against all precedents.

  But then everything that followed was going to be against any precedent.

  With his first ball, which was remarkably accurate, Pramod knocked off opener Willis’s leg stump. As a confounded Willis made his way back to the pavilion he warned the new batsman, “Take care! The joker sent down a funny one to me.”

  The warning was to be of no avail. Pramod’s left-handed bowling was completely unexpected and neither No. 3, nor any of his successors could make any sense of it. From 40 for no wicket, England was bundled out for a total of a mere 78 runs.

  As I munched my sandwich during the lunch interval, I pondered over the remarkable transformation which had come over the game in such a short time—a transformation which perhaps distinguishes cricket from any other game. Would England recover in the second innings as they followed on 230 runs behind? The old gentleman sitting next to me wondered moodily whether Rangnekar would overtake Jim Laker’s record of 19 wickets in a test match. He went on describing that eventful match which he had seen in his youth half a century ago.

  Yes, this is what happened in the second innings when England collapsed once again for 45 runs, their lowest ever score against India. And Pramod had a tally of 20 wickets.

  Then this remarkable match was followed by another remarkable event. As the last wicket fell Pramod ran towards the pavilion and even before the jubilant Indian spectators, excited newsmen and TV crew could get anywhere near, he was whisked away in a waiting car.

  Where did Pramod go? Nobody knew. The manager of the Indian team, the police and the newspapermen began a frantic search. The next day, an unknown person with an Indian accent telephoned a Fleet Street newspaper office and conveyed a message from the missing player:

  “I am safe; don’t worry, I will return within 24 hours.”

  Was this a hoax or a genuine message? By way of authentication the caller told the police a location in Croydon where Rangnekar’s shirt would be found. Sure enough the police located and identified the shirt.

  Meanwhile, the newspapers had a field day. ‘An Indian Rope-trick?’ ‘Superb bowling or Eastern hypnosis?’ ‘Rangnekar out-Lakers Jim Laker’, blared some of the tabloid headlines. Even the Times felt driven to writing an editorial eulogizing Rangnekar’s achievement but confessing to being puzzled at developments during and after the game. The Wisden promptly added another record to its annals of cricket history.

  The next day Pramod was found at the Bow Street police station. But what an anticlimax! He did not remember a single thing about the test match or what happened afterwards. In all other respects his brain was sound and he ridiculed any suggestions that he had played such a major role in the test match.

  “I could not get the wicket of a schoolboy if I bowled left-handed,” he said modestly—and there was a ring of truth in his voice.

  13 December 2005 is a date I will never forget. I had finished my breakfast and was about to leave for an important appointment when the phone rang:

  “John, it’s for you. The caller won’t identify himself but says it’s important,” Ann said. I cursed inwardly—I would certainly be late for my appointment now.

  “Yes? John Armstrong speaking,” I tried to be as polite as possible.

  “Good morning, John! You will be surprised to hear from me. This is Ajit calling—Ajit Singh.”

  Ajit Singh! After so many years! Annoyance gave way to surprise as I continued to listen. “May I see you tonight? It is very important. About eight thirty?” He seemed to be dictating all the arrangements. I asserted myself, “Come for dinner. Ann is threatening to poison me with her curry. We will both be her victims.”

  “Sure, thanks,” said Ajit. As he was about to hang up he seemed to remember something. He added, “And John—I hope you and Ann will not mind if I eat with my hands instead of with knife and fork.”

  Why this reference to knife and fork? Before I could ask him if he was serious, Ajit rang off.

  Ann was only too happy to try her hand at a curry. She also decided to experiment with some Indian sweets. I left her with her cookery cards and hastened for the train. But throughout the day my thoughts were on Ajit and on our forthcoming encounter. What was he going to tell me?

  Pramod and Ajit were fellow undergraduates with me at Cambridge. We had rooms on the same staircase of the college. Pramod and I shared an enthusiasm for cricket and by the end of our first summer we were both picked for the University Eleven. With Ajit I had a different type of bond. We both used to hold long discussions, lasting sometimes into the early hours of the morning, on Indian philosophy. Indeed it was these discussions which really shaped my career as an Indologist. Ajit, however, was a physicist. After taking the third part of the Mathematical Tripos, where he won the Mayhew Prize, he elected to do physics. Here also he distinguished himself. I left Cambridge after three years but he continued a research career at the Cavendish. Off and on we had met and corresponded; I do recall writing to him when he won the Smith Prize. But later our contact was less frequent. I had been on several archaeological expeditions in the Indian subcontinent before settling down to my present museum curatorship in London.

  Ajit had been a loner all along. I doubt if he ever had any friend apart from me. When we last met, which was five years ago, Ajit had given up his college Fellowship and joined a research establishment in England. I believe, though he never mentioned it, his work was of a highly classified nature.

  Was he going to tell me something of it tonight?

  Exactly at 8.30 pm the door bell rang. I had no trouble recognising Ajit. He had become leaner and had a few grey hairs. But there was another subtle change in him which I could sense—I can testify to that even today after all these events. To be honest, however, I must also record that at that moment of our meeting I was not able to pinpoint what exactly was different about him.

  His ma
nner of speaking soon put my mind at rest. So far as his attitude towards me was concerned, it hadn’t changed a bit.

  At the meal, which was served in Indian fashion in thalis (another of Ann’s attempts at artistic verisimilitude!), Ajit was reticent, leaving aside the usual small talk. But this did not surprise me as Ajit was never a sparkling dinner-table conversationalist. What did surprise me was his manner of eating. Out of deference to his whimsical suggestion we had all dispensed with knife and fork in favour of fingers. But Ajit’s way of eating with fingers showed the same awkwardness that a Westerner exhibits when he attempts to eat Indian food with fingers. Ann and I commented on this. But Ajit had an explanation: “Living in the decadent West for so many years, I have lost the knack of eating with fingers.” The explanation seemed to satisfy Ann, but I had my doubts.

  My doubts about Ajit’s unusual behaviour were reinforced towards the end of the meal when my seven-year-old son Ken came with a book.

  “Uncle, you sent me this book on my last birthday but you forgot to sign it. Would you please do it now?”

  This was a fact. Last year a book had arrived for Ken from Ajit’s lab. It carried the inscription ‘To Ken, on his seventh birthday’ in what I knew to be Ajit’s handwriting. Ajit in his peculiar way had remembered Ken’s birthday but had forgotten to sign his name!

  Ajit took the book and glanced at it in a cursory fashion. Then he shook his head and returned it to Ken.

  “I am sorry, Ken! My eyes are hurting me today so I can’t sign this right now.”

  “Come on! You don’t need to exert your eyes to sign your own name,” I protested on Ken’s behalf.