A Risky Plan

The salt spray kissed Sam's face as he, Akhtar, and Arjun crouched behind a pile of crates – their eyes remained locked on the frenzied ballet of dockworkers. Huge mechanical arms swung huge capsules from ship to container; the gas hisses were in rhythm with shouting men. Sam's hazel eyes glinted. "Watch those pods?" He croaked, trying to be heard above the din. He motioned to giant metal monsters being loaded up. "If we just could sneak into one…"Akhtar, all muscle tensioned wiry frame hurled his fist into palm." Ingenious! But how? We can't simply walk over there with an 'deliver special cargo' sign.'' A slow smile spread across Sam's face. He was muttering to himself while looking fixedly at the capsules. "We are the cargo." Here, Arjun, the optimist of their group had jumped up and down on his toes. "We get inside there replacing what is there and then 'sizzle' America! "Sam felt thrilled by the audacious plan. Risky? Definitely. But doing nothing, waiting for a proper passage forever—come to think of it? Closer together they huddled and planned in low tones. Each capsule had its own specific slot in this container, something they hadn't anticipated on earlier. We can't dive into any pod," Arjun whispered with a scowl on his face. "We have to be sure we all land up in one container." Akhtar and Sam shared an understanding that passed without talk between them—all about precise timing. They nodded in agreement and schemed on their next move. The one that came after was a spark of activities filled with adrenaline. They moved swiftly and silently, practiced ease opening access panels collectively over many years of stealing pence and coins. The capsules allowed for only a very small area of human movement, rather than comfort. Grunts and muffled curses could be heard as they twisted themselves into tight spaces; the foul taste of metallic air entered their noses. And in the end, like sardines, they closed the hatches and plunged into darkness. The clang of container doors as they securely shut echoed within the metal coffin and announced to them all was over for them as human beings—a death knell to their former lives. Then there was a heart-stopping jerk as their container swung up suddenly from its resting place before it fell heavily with a thump on top of the ship waiting below it. A real shudder of expectation rumbled along the vessel's iron sides because of engine noise that emanated from it. Confinement within boundaries, yet paradoxically free, the men united amongst themselves; the incongruous group of clandestine travelers headed toward some dim future. And as the ship sailed through water perturbations, thrusting them toward the fabled landmass of America, one thought did not depart their minds: they were making progress. The audacity which underlay their strategical effort, and the intrinsic riskiness which lay therein, was all at once overwhelmed at a feeling of elation, so nearly allied to success. They had done that perilous thing, and, as yet, all favoured. Before them lay the indefinite horizon, vast and unknown—but, as brothers, in the brotherhood of their perils boldly essayed, they turned to meet it.