Dire Measures.

“But…but sir, what you’re suggesting is…..”


“With all due respect, this is madness! Madness, I tell you!”

“No more questions, Gowda. My decision is final. You will follow orders, and you will do as you’re told. Is that understood?!”

“But the risk is too great, and the reward too paltry! Sir, I urge you to reconsider…surely there are better ways…surely, there must be another solution….”

He put down the handheld device, and thundered.

“GOWDA! Must I remind you of the nobility of our profession? Do you need a lesson in the indispensability of our responsibilities? Do you understand, how imperative, how absolutely crucial it is, to ensure delivery of this package? Can you fathom the enormity, the staggering weight of the trust that has been placed upon this mission? Consider, for a moment, what would entail the failure of this task – unrest, chaos, perhaps the very downfall of what we stand for! To that end I say, no action, nay, not even the potential rip we could cause in the fabric of the space-time continuum, is too minute to ensure that we live up to the mission we have set out to achieve!

We have no time to waste, my good man.

Now hand me the parcel, and prep the machine; I must make the quantum leap.

“…….It has been an honour working with you, sir.”

“And you, soldier.”


He checks measurements, sets coordinates, adjusts for error margins and with a final, proud salute, sets the pod to reset time by 24 hours.


Years pass.

“Appa…who am I named after?”

He wipes a lone tear.

“The most dedicated man I ever knew, son. The one who laughed at the known laws of physics, when it came to his duties. He was…PAKETTS-Nagaraja.”




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