The time is thirty-six minutes past six on the radium dial watch of the large drowsy man. There is a hush in the cabin and most people are dreaming in the comforting embrace of sleep. By any reckoning, nothing untoward is slated to happen.

The blue and red seats are full of people looking forward to another day in another city. There are many people travelling in that utterly ordinary aeroplane. It is another matter that they all have lives that seem incredibly complicated and unique to themselves. But in the larger scheme of things, they are simply a hundred and ninety-nine people (counting the pilot and crew) who had all gathered in one queue at the airport last night. Then, they had all presented their identity documents to the smartly dressed and well made-up staff who had screened each of them, screwing their eyes now and again.

In another three hours, they will touch ground.

Dr. R is flying to a conference of ophthalmologists. Mrs. A is eagerly waiting to be greeted by her husband and finally have some breathing space from taking sole care of two very naughty kids (who had somehow been put to sleep sometime ago). Mr. Q is travelling to a job interview and a lover. Miss G had nearly missed the trip but is glad to have made it at the last minute, since she has to return to her studies after her sister’s wedding. Mr. B has just closed a deal that will spell success for him and his firm.  Ms. K is returning with the proceedings for a pensions report. Mr. and Mrs. T are going for their yearly out-of-season holiday. Ms. N has been promoted and is on her way to receive her kudos at the headquarters. Rev. B is going to comfort his grieving relatives for their loss. Mrs. C is headed shopping and sightseeing. Prof. J is being carried to his fieldwork. O is on the trip of a lifetime. There are others too.

At seven to seven in the morning, the air stewards spring into action. The pilot announces over the speaker the temperature for their destination and the flight time remaining. Some infants start bawling. The sound of a cough in the stale air mingles with the music filtering out of a teenager’s headphones. A few people here and there start rousing themselves and setting their chairs straight, glancing ahead or over their shoulders to see if the toilet lights indicate occupied or otherwise. The first and business class curtains are occasionally drawn apart as the trolleys start their long trek down each aisle handing out tea, coffee, snacks and false smiles.

Everything is in order.

Just then, the large, sleepy man’s cheek twitches involuntarily. No one notices. He is a huge mass of flesh and blanket, forced somehow to fit into the space provided by seat number 33F. Certainly, it is lucky that no one’s sitting next to him. Even so, his big, thick arm dangles over the armrest and into the aisle.

To make sure that he will not be hit by the trolley, the stewardess says, “Excuse me, sir.” Once, and then again.

At first, he seems not to hear and his monstrous face only registers another twitch. But, then, he wakes up with a start. He cannot remember what he was dreaming of. Stumbling into reality, he lifts his massive hand onto his body and, with his right index finger, presses the button that will bring his seat forward, into the upright position. The diagonally reclining seat-back begins moving. Crrreeaaakkk…

At the same time, his seat starts levitating, rising as if by magic…

Everything blurs for him. Jaws drop around him and everyone is struck speechless. They all stare frozen-faced and horrified as it starts to happen. The huge, sleepy man must be performing a mind-trick on them. It must be. There can be no other explanation!

His seat detaches itself from the floor of the plane and he slowly drifts upwards, still half-reclining, towards the roof of the plane. There are manic screams. The eyes of the huge, sleepy man turn as big as saucers. His face is absolutely expressionless, as he is expanding by the second.

Soon, he floats to the ceiling near the overhead lockers. The madness spreads feverishly around the cabin. Only one small girl giggles with uncontrollable mirth. The overwrought mother dishes out a slap. Before you can say, “Boo!” the ballooning man is through the roof! In one sudden flash, the top of the plane seems to swallow and transport him out into the open sky. All that the screaming, frenzied travelers see is a split-second of matter behaving as if it were fluid, a patch of bluish sky and then, a strong, solid, metal roof again.

He is gone.

But where?

The pilot has been alerted, the air traffic control intimated of this unbelievable happening. The passengers are constantly reminded to keep belted, to try and be silent. The most hysterical ones are dealt with. The ones at the other ends of the plane, who missed it all, are told what happened. There is a suspension of understanding because all of them realize that they are alive and that the plane is still moving somewhere, but, at the same time, there is a neat square of vacant space where seat 33F should have been.

Outside, in the sky, a slight shadow can be seen.

*

Phone lines buzz all over the place as Air Control relays messages to other planes to divert them from the area.

The officials in charge of Unusual Events are roused from their beds and their seats. The Government must come into action against That.

Sharp, quick faxes and razor-clean voices across long distances, confidentially report That.

Meanwhile, That continues to swell and bloat. It can now be seen from the ground, floating about in the air, expanding, feasting on nothing, expanding like there is no tomorrow, growing exponentially, taking up more and more space in the sky.

Soon, it hits the local news and then the panic really sets in. Anxious parents hide away their kids. People take the day off work to see what happens. Everyone glued, for news, to any means available.

That just grows and grows.

*

The area declares an emergency. Armed Forces are deployed. But there is need for a strategy. Is it the enemy? Is it aliens? Is it a hoax? An illusion? The end of the world?

Politicians and bureaucrats spring into action. The news media vomits with a sensation overdose. No one really knows anything. Therefore, everyone must keep talking. Words flow from people to people, unrestrained.

The faithful start to pray.

The Government says they must all stay indoors and everything will be made all right.

The Government sends in fighter planes and starts aiming missiles at That.

The Government is able and must be trusted.

The Government will get to the bottom of this. Or, in this case, That.

The Government will save us if we abide.

The Government is all aroused and, when it is aroused, it can do anything.

That must be full of invading aliens. That must be a curse for our times. That must be communicated with. That must immediately be shot at with all the fire we have got… Boom! Boom!! Boom!!! Boom!!!! Boom!!!!! Boom!!!!!! Boom!!!!!!!

That just grows and grows, its shadow darkening more and more surface.

*

Mission Control feels the impotence in its guts now. That, which seemed to be an indistinguishable semi-human outline, has proved to be an impenetrable blob.

“All The Fire Power Is Getting Us Nowhere!” the agonized Armed Forces Chiefs scream, driven to insanity by the crushing pressure of the aroused Government and the need for quick answers. Meetings are held left, right and centre, but answers there are few.

*

The utterly ordinary plane, which managed to land somehow, is now in quarantine.

R, A, Q, G, B, K, N, B, C, J, the Ts and all the other one hundred and eighty-six passengers and crew – sans O – are being processed. They are shocked and witless, blabbering and hysterical, detailed but pointless.

Specialists from every scientific field rush to the spot to see for themselves, to question those who witnessed That.

*

The large sleepy man is no longer discernible in the darkly resistant, impenetrable blob that appropriates the horizon. You cannot make out his arm or his belly or his radium wristwatch. That does not seem human now. That is a threat whose proportions cannot be made out. That eerily grows and threatens to take over the whole sky – above the state, above the country and, eventually, above every bit of the earth.

The Government too is trying to bloat and float to keep up with That.

*

But That is absurd, and we will simply need to live with That.