P4ND3M1C

The inter-planetary equivalent year is 2049. Out of the 8 billion homo sapiens, predominantly the Millennials, Gen Z and Alpha, those tough as nails, who've stared death in the face, and marched on with bravado, made it through the harshest calamity to smite the other planet conducive to such forms of life in well over a century are looked up to; as no lesser than war heroes. These creatures exemplify the inherent qualities of the species: fortitude, persistence and the indomitable will to overcome any adversity.

Mangesh is in conversation with Z6J9. Alphabetic names are antwacky. Z, as she prefers to be called is jittery, at a little over 9 Mars years old. She activates incognito on her hybrid spectacles, to scan through the identity of the new homo sapien she's encountered. It takes about 150 seconds during which Mangesh looks baffled. He extends his hand, calls out her name, waves into her face, and tries other ways and means to get her to respond to him. But Z's eyes, although gazing right back into his, aren’t looking at him, because she's gone off into the vortex of the Earthweb, preoccupied with pulling up every possible byte of relevant information of her acquaintance.

She blinks a couple of times, and the app terminates. A few seconds later, the eyes get adjusted to minus 2 sphere and minus 0.5 cylinder. It’s a bit grainy momentarily, but her mind and body can now focus. She enquires if she can rest for a while, to overcome the space lag. It has been a couple of Earth days since she touched down, but the planetary zones and atmospheric conditions aren't easy to get accustomed to. She asks Mangesh if he had a sleeping pod that she could use. The Indian in Mangesh comes to the fore. He offers all four pods that he has at his accommodation and tells her, "During my childhood, we slept on mattresses. These days, my grandson uses it to practice jiu-jitsu against his holographic girlfriend." He was hoping she finds it amusing, but this sounded so alien to her that she walks away, gets into the nearest pod and is in a slumber; within a few seconds. The lag is hitting her so hard that she doesn’t even have the presence of mind to change the default settings.

She remains inside for about eighteen hours, after which Smitha, Mangesh's wife, decides to interrupt the session, and check on Z. She calls out to her, and even taps her arm slightly. There’s barely any response. She checks her pulse, and heart rate gauges on the monitor. They are within the acceptable range for homosapiens living on Mars for prolonged durations. Smitha splashes water on her face. The pod begins to beep, with the liquid seeping into the crevices. Mangesh turns off the power. She continues to rest.

Her dream is more believable and akin to her perception of reality than where she physically is. The other tangent is of Z and her comrades, people with whom she had matched on an app; for those with common interests. They’re actively engaged in an intense game of drone wars. Z was one of the last three standing, and she wants to know how it ended. In reality, Mangesh is about to invite the local physician over to check on Z. He is deeply concerned about her wellbeing, as he hasn’t got the remotest trace of her origins. There was a milky way wide campaign, where binary homosapiens who wanted to be interviewed regarding their experience of fighting the pandemic, could suo moto nominate themselves. They were paired in the backend. Dr. John arrives, and concludes that Z is lucid dreaming. Mangesh quips, "Covid was much easier to deal with than this mess." The other earth dwellers nod in agreement.

The problem had been identified, then they brainstormed on the possible solutions. How can they convince Z that she is indeed talking to a covid survivor and his family, on Earth, of all places? They try interacting with Z; Dr. John says, "Hello Z, I am going to ask you a few questions. Please answer each of them, carefully. What is your full name?" Z replies with, "Where's my drone?" It dawned on them that Z needed to go back, and reconcile with that realm. If that were to happen, and if she were to find that her drone is knocked down, she will be in a frenzied pursuit to find it. There is no telling how long that could take. They didn't want to risk that, so it was time to choose another option. They decided to connect the dots, and give Z an identical 8D printed drone. That does the trick, Z is satisfied and fully regains consciousness.

Z realigns her state of consciousness. She turns on the record button on her eyewear and asks Mangesh, "Tell me how you got through the covid-19 pandemic?" Mangesh laughs, he’s mollified that the whole situation is under control. He says, "We'll come to that later. Let's have a cup of hot chai, first." A couple of slurps later, he begins, "It all started in the last week of March; about three decades ago. We were young and happy. Life was good. Our then PM was a wonderful orator. He mysteriously appeared on the screens of all TVs throughout the country and announced a three-week lockdown. We locked ourselves up inside our houses, watched content all day for about a week. Then it got claustrophobic, and we were itching to get out and about. Once the cases reduced and restrictions were relaxed, we had to cover our faces to do so. Cops were fining people who were driving and riding solo for not wearing masks. This virus was like a behemoth that woke up all of a sudden, unleashed its fury, and went AWOL. Then came the night curfews, because the virus slept during the day. Oh, I should tell you about travel. You had to get a test where they would stuff an earbud deep inside your nose and throat if you were traveling by air. For those traveling by road, you had to fill in a register while entering a new city. It got to a point where it was disrespectful to show your face to a stranger." Z was amused, she empathized with how clueless the whole species was, and how haphazardly it was dealt with. "If there was one thing that is a lasting memory of those years, what would it be?", she asked. Mangesh and Smitha replied in unison, "The hideous caller tunes. They went on and on."