IT happened just like they said. A little after mid-day on one of those sultry monsoon days when the overcast sky spread its hot damp over the unsuspecting city, disaster struck. Five nuclear devices of varying megatonnage cleared Indian air space and landed in around the capital, reducing everything in a few seconds to a layer of ashes. First to be hit were small towns like Panipat and Karnal—towns whose loss could easily be sustained by the national budget; then the suburbs of Model Town and Punjabi Bagh, then ancient Old Delhi and finally ancient New Delhi. At least, when the dust settled anyone could escape. They were only two megaton bombs—the size of motorcycles—a hundred times stronger than the Hiroshima one, and so on impact, 200 million people just evaporated, and another 100 million were converted into radioactive waste. The millions still left suffered nausea, permanent nose bleed, internal haemorrhage and facial burns. Before they, too, succumbed to their injuries.