Mar 26–Apr 10, 2016
"Contracts Signed in Stone"
---
Delhi – Ministry of Road Transport
March 28, 2016.
The corridors of Shastri Bhavan smelled faintly of old paper, chai, and ambition. Civil servants hurried between offices, clutching files stamped with red seals. The air buzzed with urgency: the North-East tunnels had drawn national attention.
In a top-floor conference room, under humming tube lights, senior officials sat around a long teak table. At the head, a minister in a cream kurta tapped his pen impatiently.
> "Gentlemen, we cannot ignore this company anymore. Bharat InfraWorks has delivered what even the Border Roads Organisation said was impossible. Tunnels through granite mountains — completed months ahead of schedule."
Murmurs of assent. A pile of photographs lay on the table: villagers dancing, trucks rolling through neon-lit tunnels, the enigmatic Arjun Rao garlanded in marigolds.
But not everyone was convinced.
A bureaucrat with rimmed glasses adjusted his file.
> "Sir, we still don't know his investors. The speed of drilling is… unnatural. What if foreign tech is involved? We risk sovereignty."
The minister leaned back, folding his hands.
> "Foreign or not, results speak louder than suspicion. Winter in Arunachal passed without shortages for the first time in decades. The PM himself is watching. Gentlemen, the decision is clear: we sign an extended contract. Himachal passes, Ladakh corridors, J&K border routes. Bharat InfraWorks will handle them all."
The room fell silent. The die was cast.
---
MC's POV – The Hidden Smile
In his estate control room, 1,200 kilometers away, the MC watched the meeting unfold on a holographic display. Aarya had infiltrated the ministry's CCTV feed, projecting it in perfect clarity.
He leaned back, sipping tea slowly, his father reading the newspaper nearby, unaware of the hidden world glowing in the room's shadows.
> "So," he murmured, "the state bows to results. As expected."
Aarya's voice chimed softly, calm as always.
> Aarya: "Projected annual revenue increase: 300%. National dependency on Bharat InfraWorks for Himalayan logistics will reach critical threshold by 2018."
The MC smiled faintly. Dependence. That's the real contract being signed here.
---
Side POV – The Villager's Gratitude
While Delhi debated, life in the mountains had already begun to change.
In a small village outside Tawang, 42-year-old trader Dorjee stacked salt and tea in his shop. For years, supplies had trickled in by mule during clear months. In winter, shelves sat bare. But now — now trucks came every week, headlights gleaming as they roared out of the tunnel.
Customers crowded his little store, laughing, carrying away rice, lentils, even sweets for their children.
Dorjee stood behind the counter, shaking his head in disbelief.
> "I used to pray each year that the passes wouldn't close too early. Now I pray that Rao-sahib lives a long life. Whoever he is, he has changed us."
His words, spoken in a remote valley, would never make it to Delhi. But they were the truest endorsement of all.
---
The Signing Ceremony
April 2, 2016. Vigyan Bhavan, New Delhi.
A crowd of journalists gathered under chandeliers. Cameras clicked furiously as the Minister of Road Transport and the tall, composed figure of Arjun Rao signed a stack of documents.
The contract:
4 new tunnels in Arunachal Pradesh
2 passes in Himachal
Strategic Ladakh route to connect army posts year-round
Feasibility study for J&K Srinagar–Leh corridor
Total value: ₹14,000 crore (~$2.1 billion).
Arjun Rao's synthetic hand moved smoothly, pen gliding across page after page.
When the minister clasped his hand for photographs, he whispered under his breath:
> "Rao-ji, I don't know who you really are, but keep delivering like this and Delhi will protect you."
Arjun Rao gave a perfectly measured smile. Cameras flashed. Headlines were born.
---
Side POV – Chinese Intelligence
Thousands of kilometers away, in a dim Beijing office, a man in a gray suit read the Indian news. He was a mid-level analyst for the Ministry of State Security, tasked with monitoring South Asian infrastructure.
The photograph on his desk — Arjun Rao shaking hands in Delhi — bothered him.
He tapped his pen, muttering:
> "Tunnels in Arunachal, Ladakh, Kashmir… all sensitive borders. Whoever this man is, he advances India's strategic mobility faster than their own army ever dreamed."
He sent a coded cable to his superior:
> "Recommend surveillance on Bharat InfraWorks. Potential threat to regional balance. Unknown technology involved in rapid construction."
Half a world away, without knowing it, the MC had stepped into the radar of global power games.
---
Family Moment – The Real Celebration
Back at the estate, the MC did not celebrate with champagne or fireworks.
Instead, he walked through the orchard with his parents. Blossoms had begun to appear — apple, cherry, mango trees glowing under lantern light. His mother touched the petals gently, smiling.
> "Beta, when we first came here, this valley was bare. Now look at it. And today, the whole nation knows your company's name."
He shook his head.
> "Not my name, Maa. Arjun Rao's."
She frowned.
> "Names don't matter. What matters is what you build."
For the first time in years, the MC felt the weight of truth in her words. All the deception, the androids, the hidden tech — beneath it, he was still building something real.
---
Closing Scene – A Shadow Over Success
Late April 10th, as the contract papers circulated through ministries, the MC stood in his underground command center. Holographic maps of India glowed around him, dotted with red tunnels marking future projects.
> MC (quietly): "Step by step, the nation binds itself to my hands."
Aarya's tone shifted, unusually cautious.
> Aarya: "Correction. The nation binds itself to Arjun Rao. But outside India… eyes are opening."
On another screen, the intercepted Chinese cable flickered in encrypted characters.
The MC narrowed his eyes.
> So it begins. Not just nation-building… but survival against the world.
He turned off the display, walked upstairs, and joined his parents for dinner as if nothing had changed. But in his heart, he knew — Chapter One of the global game had started.
---