Mitra takes a proper shower, a luxury with soap, after a long time. He shaves off his facial hair. Refreshed, he changes into the bedroom clothes left on his bed. He had never experienced so much comfort in a long, long time. It feels amazing, and he believes that once this current job is complete, he will finally get a place in the rainforest and spend the rest of his life in peace. He thinks about his father. He had never seen his mother, as she died during childbirth. His father taught him many things, but he does not want to think about that fateful day, though it haunts him day after day.
He divers his mind: he will find peace after he completes his task.
He finishes his meal served by the caterers and returns to his room for a period of rest. He looks for his backpack. He takes out the book and the photo, puts the photo on the left side of the bed near his head, and places the book on top of his chest. He looks at Gayatri's photo for a moment, tries to remember but fails. He puts the photo back on the left side. He picks up the book, flips it to the marked page, and reads up to the point where Adam was left with no other choice but to eat the fruit from the Tree of Knowledge for Eve's survival.
Exhausted, he falls asleep for an afternoon nap.
Out of all the troubles in the world, consciously, unconsciously, and subconsciously, he has a dream. It is night, about the time when he was a child. He sees his father shouting at him, "Run! My Son! Save..." and immediately, his father is shot from behind.
The little child, only eight to ten years old, is afraid. Unable to realize what happened, he calls out in a loud voice, "Father."
Suddenly, he runs as he sees other people approaching with their guns. He doesn't know where to hide but finds a rock. As the perpetrators are looking for others, he hides among the shadows. The little child hears a few more shots as the perpetrators are being taken down one by one.
"There is a child out there!" He hears someone shout from a distance. "Hold your fire!"
Someone approaches him; his face is covered with a khaki brown cloth. He moves the cloth and puts his hand on the child's back.
Terrified, the child tries to hide, but the stranger says, "Don't worry! I know you are afraid! I am here to save you!"
The child is still frightened. "What's your name, boy?" he asks in a kind voice.
"Mi... Mitra!" he whispers, hesitantly.
"I am your father's friend! We are here to rescue you!" He politely reaches his hand down to him.
"My father... is he... is he... alive... he asked me to run away..."
"I am afraid," the savior takes some time to speak out. "I am afraid he was killed by the rebels!"
"The rebels!" The child avoids the savior's hand and hides in the shadows. He does not want to see anyone or talk to anyone.
"Come with me, son! We will take care of you! Come!"
Mitra comes out of the shadows, puts his hand in the savior's, who gently lifts him up from the ground. They walk at a slow pace toward the seaside, where the others are waiting for them.
Mitra wakes up from his dream, sweating. He breathes out heavily; the past trauma always haunts him. He tries to divert his mind but is unable to recognize the place. He closes his eyes, tries to recollect his surroundings, and realizes where he is now. He looks at the clock on the wall opposite him and notices that he is late for dinner. He goes to the bathroom and sprinkles some water on his face. He finds the new set of clothes that the secretary had left in the wardrobe. He quickly changes into the shirt and trousers and finally struggles with the dinner suit, as he has never worn a suit before. All his life as a bounty hunter, he only wore rugged khaki clothes and the mask. He sprays the deodorant and adjusts the clothes for a smart look. He fixes his hair and slicks it back.
He picks up the intercom to inform the secretary. Within a few minutes, she arrives and looks at him; they smile at each other.
She points out that the cufflinks are not placed properly and helps him fix them. "Thank you!" Mitra turns on his charm.
"Don't mention it!"
She notices the photographs on the bed. "Who are they?"
"Rebels!" He quickly picks up the photographs from the bed and puts them in the backpack.
"I see. We heard about your exploits!"
"Not that I am proud of!" Mitra continues, "So, how long have you been here?"
"About three months." "Do you have a family?"
"I never had one!" said Judy, trying to hide her tears.
Mitra notices, "I lost them, too."
"I am sorry!"
"I am sorry too!"
"Does it matter?"
"It does," said Mitra.
Judy takes some time, checks the rest of the room, and looks at the time. "Aren't you getting late?"
"Let's go! Sorry to bother you."
"It's alright! You don't get a chance to have a conversation frequently nowadays!"
Judy guides him to the Admiral's quarter, who is busy with his family, though his wife is not present yet. His two children, who are in their teens, greet Mitra.
"Good evening, Mitra! About time you came!" says the Admiral, turning toward his children, "Sheila and Neil. My lovely, lovely kids."
Mitra says with a smile, "Hello!"
"Thank you for inviting me to dinner. I don't remember the last time I attended a social gathering."
"If you know, only warfare is concealed during social occasions!"
"There is no war anymore!"
"Civil issues and the Imperial Regime are the things that are left of this world. Anyways, had a good sleep?" asked the Admiral in a kind manner.
"Never better!" Mitra feels the comfort as he gives the reply.
"Good! Let's take our seats, shall we?"
The secretary works with the chefs and caterers to make sure the dinner is served perfectly. The Admiral sits in the Master Chair at the front end. Mitra sits on the left, adjacent to the Admiral. Sheila and Neil sit opposite Mitra. They are looking at him, especially Neil, with wonder. Neil, out of excitement, asks, "You are truly a legend, sir!"
Mitra smirks at him but does not give an answer. The Admiral's son continues, "My folks at school heard so many stories about you. We are fascinated by the way you hunt the rebels and destroy them."
Mitra replies, "Well, I am not that proud of being a rebel hunter. I am doing it because I haven't received a good education when I was young."
Out of curiosity, the daughter, who is older than her brother, asks, "Are the rebels that bad?"
Neil replies sharply, "Of course! They are bad! They are upsetting the system!"
"Well! Isn't there something wrong with us? That the rebels are against us? Against the Imperial Regime?"
Neil feels irritated by his sister's response, "Are you trying to sympathize with the rebels?"
"I am not saying that I am going to sympathize with the rebels. The fact is people are dying. But the rebels are fighting for them!"
"Sheila, you are a fool! The rebels are destroying the peace..."
"As we destroyed the homes of the common people! We are taking away the basic consumption of water," Sheila replies sharply.
"There is a scarcity of water! We need to control it!"
Sheila shouts at him, "Not by killing innocent lives!"
Both Neil and Sheila look at each other silently. She says, "We are tone-deaf. We don't hear the voice. That's the problem..."
The Admiral politely stops his daughter and says, "Well, that's enough discussion about worldly affairs, Sheila! Mr. Mitra knows what he is supposed to do, and he is doing it for the Regime! So, no questions asked!"
Neil says, feeling he has won the argument, "Right, father!"
Sheila looks at them with disappointment and turns her head toward the empty glass. Mitra looks at Sheila but does not say a word, though her words will affect the mind of anybody, and then comes the authority to remove such thoughts.
The Admiral then asks Judy, "Jaina isn't serving today?"
"She is sick for the day because of the flu!" responds Judy.
"Has the doctor given her the medicine?"
"Yes, Sir!"
"We will check with her for the next few days!"
"I will."
The butlers come from behind the end door, which is at the back of the Admiral's chair, with white wine toward the dining table and serve it to all of them. The Admiral holds his cup up, and one of the butlers fills it and says to the guest, "Mitra, taste it. It's the finest of the southern vineyards."
"Thank you!"
"My pleasure!"
"I never said that before!"
"Better late than never!"
"You saved me from those rebels when I was a kid! I am sorry for blaming you!" Mitra says gratefully.
"I understand."
"You always took good care of me. Even though I tried to avoid you..."
"When the Governor said, 'Mitra is coming to meet me,' I had a hunch you must be Krishna's son!"
"You never bothered to check in the system?"
"How could I? I don't have the Tier I level access to details; only on a need-to-know basis that too comes from the Governor's end."
"Admiral."
"Call me, Arjun." "Wouldn't that bother you?"
"No. See, this delegation and autocratic system ruins everything. Many of them call me by my name, and some are forced to address me by my designation. If you have a bit of leniency to address others, it doesn't harm."
"Good! Good... Arjun."
"That's fine. So, here comes our dinner."
The maître-d comes in with the food and serves it on each of their plates—salad, with large bread loaves and grilled meat—all provided by the Imperial Industrial Sector, which provides infinite luxuries, medicines, and weapons to the Imperial workers and soldiers. A woman enters the room; she has only grown more beautiful with age.
"Mitra, meet my wife Stella," the Admiral introduces his wife.
The Admiral turns toward Stella, "Stella, this is the boy who was with us for quite some time..."
"Fascinating! I was looking forward to meeting you. We all wondered over the years about you! We did not have a child then, and we adopted you. But you left suddenly..." replies Stella.
"Stella, it's great that he is back with us..." "Thank you, Stella." Mitra smiled.
"Mitra, we have dispatched the search party, and a few of the nomads from the Neutral Territory have agreed to assist us."
"After we find the location, we will go and search for Gayatri! Probably, she won't be alive after our meet," replies the bounty hunter in a cold manner.
"We will think about it first thing in the morning, Mitra. Now, let's have dinner!" says the Admiral with amusement.
The husband turns to Stella and says, "We shouldn't bore our guest! Should we, darling?"
"Not a problem, Arjun!" Mitra said. Stella says, "Well, let's eat first!"
The maître-d serves Stella her dinner. They enjoy their meal, mixed with discussions on the current economic and political world situation. Mitra is disinterested, as world politics bores him. His thoughts are centered on finishing the job, making peace with his father, and finally living in the rainforest. He wants to call it Paradise. He thinks deeply: I have killed enough. I need to move far away from the world and find someone to settle down with. I have never believed in faith, but for the first time, I have to. My journey is nearing the end. A peaceful resolution.
Nobody knows that Judy is watching all of them, especially Mitra, whom she follows like a shadow.
Mitra excuses himself, as he is exhausted and wants to return to his room.
The Admiral nods to his request, "It happens! Been in the uncivilized areas for too long! Go on. Tomorrow, we will speak about our procedure. Goodnight, Mitra!"
The voices sound faint and muffled. He is tired and suffocated in the gathering; she holds his hand, guiding him to his room. Gently, she lays him on his bed. He falls asleep the moment his head hits the pillow.
She checks Mitra's backpack and takes out the envelope. She brings out her miniature camera from her pocket, takes a shot of the photographs, and returns them to the bag.
She looks outside the window. The curtains are already drawn up, covered with two layers of anti-UV sheets. A sandstorm is forming in the middle of the dunes. She switches off the lights and brings out her mini-binoculars. She waits—a light—a signal from the distance, like a flying lantern. She immediately closes the window, draws the sheets, and lowers the curtain. She takes a quick glance at Mitra. She leaves the room and retires to her room in her quarters. She shuts the door. She is alone.
She brings out a bomb from under the bed, fixes it on the desk with wires, and places the detonator on the table. She drags out a naked dead body from the closet, covered with plastic, and drops it on the floor. Judy undresses and changes into the outfit of a maître-d that reads Jaina on the pocket. She replaces her clothes onto the dead body. Their physical attributes almost match. She pulls up the body and positions it on the chair and the face near the bomb. She activates the device.
She steps out from the room with the detonator and a bag in her hand. She closes the door. She lowers her head as she notices two guards patrolling in the balcony. They do not notice anything strange. She walks toward the exit, and as the guards reach near her room, she presses the detonator. A heavy blasting sound and the guards are massacred by the impact. The entire building is in darkness as the power shuts down. She pulls out her mask quickly from her bag, as the air conditioning and the oxygen supply are stopped. All the residents of the building are suffocating because of the foul air. She covers herself with brown khaki clothes. One of the guards outside opens the door and comes inside. Through the torchlight, she reaches for the vase and smashes it on his head. The other security must have gone to check the power cut.
Immediately, her accomplice drives to her with an Imperial jeep-like land cruiser, which she boards hurriedly, and they drive toward the dunes, to the Neutral Territory. She informs him about the direction of the lantern signal. They reach near the exit of the city gates, but there are no security guards to stop them because this vehicle is assigned for the Night Patrol.
"Thank You, Pete!"
To be Continued: Chapter 4: The Rebel Leader