The long Road went straight on and on, as far as the eyes could stare. It ran across a long wide plain - almost a desert, painted dull yellow by the ever blowing wind. On either side of the Road, near the edge of the eye, the lands curved upward into small hills. Those hills were the only shelter from the cold east wind that tore through the plains of Outland. The only friends a traveller could make on this road were the small thorny shrubs that grew about on the roadside.

Around midday, the Road took on an eerie look. Horizon melted away, unifying sky and land in a dull display of amber. Wisps of heat curled up into fleeting mirages.

This was the Outland Road. No one traveled on it in daytime, unless their life depended on crossing it and reaching the nearest settlement of Eastland on the other side of the road by sundown. The Road spanned more than halfway of the continent, connecting the organized and safe Eastland on the east coast to the deadly and wild Westland on the west coast.

Roth had been on the road for only an hour and had crossed only a quarter of the road when she ran out of water. She had managed to grab hold of only the bare essentials in her satchel while leaving her small shack in eastern Westland in a hurry. The Gumbats were after her. She had to flee. It had seemed to be the natural course of action to take. But now she began to question her decision.

Would it have been better to be executed in public in the hands of a Gumbat? Justice would have been served swift. Her villagers would have remembered her for a week, and then would have moved on. At least she would have a week’s worth of glory and not die of thirst on this wretched Road. Nah. She shook off the doubts. There is no turning back. That was against her principles.

She decided that she would rather die of dehydration on the Outland Road and keep her honour. She could not just give away her life’s possessions to a freaking Gumbat. She detested their long black capes. She had to run.

In a desperate determination, she filled her bike’s tanker with the fossilium she had in her satchel and went ahead full throttle to meet the unforgiving sun of the Zinc Ternary system on the old Outland Road.

She paused by the roadside for a while. Her watch said it was noon. She knew every moment lost there were going to cost her dearly.

She had seen a bright white fleck near the horizon; brighter than the brightness of the midday sun. She tried to focus her gaze on it. No mistaking, there was something flying in her direction from Eastland.

She waited. In a few moments, the bright flicker took the shape of a hovermobile. Four flat wheels under an oval hood with enough space inside to sit two people behind the driver and two bikes in the deck behind them. The hovermobile creaked to a stop beside her. A window opened on its side.

“Roth Beduin of Westland?”

“Roth, yes. Westland, no. Lost that.”

“I’m here to rescue you by a secret order of the Eastland General Government. My name is Ubu Ho. Stow your bike in the deck and hop in.”

Ubu lowered the hovermobile so that Roth could tow her bike on the deck and tie it to one of the magnetic girders. Given the blaring heat of the midday sun, Roth was fairly pleased to get inside something, however secretive the mission may be.

“Buckle up, Roth. I can’t bear this heat any more.”

“Right away!”

Ubu steered the hovermobile around, and on they went with the sun in their eyes to the Eastland.

It was almost dark. Mantri was lighting up the evening lamps when a hovermobile entered the lane. It scooted up his front porch and stopped outside the gate. The intercom crackled.

“Ubu Ho of Special Corps reporting in, sir! I have got hostage Roth Beduin ready for transfer. Requesting authorization to enter premises to complete the task.”

“It’s okay, Ubu. Spare me the formalities. Just bring her in. Oh, and, leave your vehicle outside, and avoid tramping on my newly planted Petunias.”

“Affirmative, sir! Ermm.. Okay.”

He gunned down the engine, got out of the vehicle and scanned his ID card at the security scanner on the door. The door slowly swung open inwards. In Eastland, it was considered discourtesy to open your doors outwards. That way, no one was ever confused about whether to push or pull the door. You push the door while coming in and pull the door while going out. Children in Eastland were taught that in their social sciences. It was simple and straightforward, like almost everything else in Eastland. But Roth did not grow up there. She pulled at the door.

“You need to push it”, remarked Ubu smugly.

“Oh”, grunted Roth.

“What did they teach you in school?”

“History, Geography, Physics, Maths, Astronomy. Not how to open a door. We learnt that through trial and error.”

“How so unobvious!”

They went in through the hall and up the round stairs to the landing on first floor. Mantri was waiting with a wide, charming smile and a freshly bloomed Petunia in hand. The colour of his long robe curiously matched the colour of the flower he held. He offered the flower to Roth with his left hand and made a sweeping bow with his right hand, asking her to take a seat. Roth zeroed in on a nearby chair. Ubu awkwardly stopped midway through a salute and stood groggily at the corner of the stair’s landing.

Mantri went inside and came out with a tray full of multi-coloured biscuits and three cups of tea. Ubu could not contain himself any more and blurted out.

“Should I consider the transfer successful, sir?”

“Yes, Ubu. Help yourself to some tea and biscuits.”

“I need to get going, sir. I am posted on the borders tonight.”

“Oh, then you must go. Nasty business, managing borders. Don’t be afraid to drop by.”

“Thank you sir. Could you please let the Corps know of the progress?”

“Will do. So long.”

“So long, sir.”

Ubu strutted downstairs, went out, got into the vehicle and cruised away.

“I didn’t know it could fly. Neat stu…”, Roth forgot to complete the sentence and forgot to shut her mouth. This was because as Mantri was about to seat, at that very moment his gown turned brown, matching the colour of the sofa. Roth kept switching her glances from the gown to the sofa.

“Neat stuff, eh? This is one of my latest inventions. I call it the Girgit. They wanted it for the army, bless those poor tasteless souls! Just think of the fashion statement it can have! Clothes that change colours to match their surroundings! Isn’t it wonderful?”

Roth thought of multiple replies to that question. She managed to squeak out a Yes. Just this morning she was fleeing from death, then she met a stranger who regarded her as a hostage and transferred her to a weird inventor who takes keen interest in revolutionzing fashion trends. Her thoughts struggled their way down her throat and forced themselves upward through her mouth. One thought won.

“Who are you?”

“I am Mantri. Nothing after or before that. No Mantri Who? Or What Mantri? Just Mantri. Plain old Mantri. I work for myself, but the Eastland Government thinks I do neat stuff, eh? They pay me well and I get some nice perks! Like secretly getting things done through the Special Corps. They also call me their Science Chief.”

“Why did that guy call me a ‘hostage’?”

“Oh! Poor Ubu! Too deep in army-speak. I am rather fond of him though”.

Seeing a flush of curiosity on Roth’s face, Mantri asked, “How did I know that you were in danger?” Roth nodded. Mantri took that as a yes and continued, “Let’s just say that I knew you would be in danger by this morning. I had contacted the Special Corps and asked them to bring you to my place by evening. Good chaps did just that. Now, once you are done with your tea, we have some science to discuss. Oh! And, welcome to Eastland! Hope you have a nice stay here. Leave your worries behind.”

Mantri winked and went inside. Roth forgot to shut her mouth, again.