The Preacher Man

Bithiah glanced at the bird and smiled. "That's a Kookaburra, and that tree is officially called a gum tree, though as children we were taught to call it a ghost-maker tree. The tree will drop large branches during its life cycle. Never sleep under one!"

She took another look at the bird. "It's my understanding the Kookaburra almost became extinct eight thousand years ago. They're quite plentiful now."

An Australian woman introduced herself as Yadira and commented with a laugh, "Sometimes I wish they were extinct! Their cries can drive you crazy sometime!"

Michal's background in engineering compelled her to ask a question. "But how is it possible that I'm seeing it? Are there holographic scanners in the forest?"

"No," answered another woman who introduced herself as Ilana. "Good question though. We using a different scanning technology than the one you're used to. All the scanners on this end are in this room, but they're taking advantage of a photonic polarization echo effect. There are two people at your end who know what I'm talking about. Shephatiah, Chanah, are you the two scientists we've been working with?"

My two wives nodded. Dalis spoke up. "Since you can see the bird, congratulations on making the modifications to your holo-emitters so quickly. And I must add, our entire research staff is stunned by the private physics papers you two have sent us. We are in awe!"

"Oh, that part was all Shephatiah," answered Chanah. "I was just along for the ride to provide some computational support."

"Chanah, you're being too modest," whispered Shephatiah, though it was plain to me Sheffie was thrilled with being praised. And no wonder. In all her years of brilliance, she never had any acknowledgment from scientific peers.

"Seriously," Dalis continued, "for one person to come up with all the conjectures you have is astonishing. In all our years of research, there are a few we have already proven, and there was one we have a proof against, but the others! Our theory labs are thrilled with your ideas! You have created years of exploration for us!"

"Please, no more!" laughed Shephatiah. "You'll make me blush!"

Another of the Australian women introduced herself as Pascha and looked at me thoughtfully. "Ilias, our security here is as good as we can make it, but nothing is foolproof. Each one of us will instantly choose suicide rather than risk revealing you, but if we're attacked with a fast acting bio-weapon, we might not get the chance."

"Oh, I know the risks. We're doing everything we can on this end too, to protect your interests."

"It's very kind for you to say that, but the risks are not the same," Pascha replied. "We need you far more than you need us."

"I disagree."

"Still, you have our sincere thanks and gratitude. And may I bring up a delicate topic?"

I nodded. "Of course."

"Ammar told us his new contact might have some genetic knowledge for us, about the fact that we're not taking anti-aging drugs. Do you know? How much danger are we in?"

The festive mood of our meeting turned somber. "Yes, I think I do know. I've downloaded a great deal of genetic material from Dalma." I paused for a moment with the memory. There was very little risk involved. The material I wanted was buried in a huge volume of background information, and the geneticists were very happy with my interest in their work.

I sighed and told the Australians a bit of ancient history. The genetic self-destruct triggers were put in very early, in the first few decades of the first century. It was designed to be a hard ten-year trigger, killing everyone in their twenty-third year if they hadn't started the anti-aging drugs at thirteen."

Pascha nodded. "That's what we were taught in school too. And we know that the injections are individually tailored to a person's DNA. We can't steal someone else's dose. Still, at the beginning of 8235, when the oldest of us were entering our twenty-fourth year, we began to hope that the trigger story was a myth."

I shook my head. "It's no myth. When the girl/boy birth ratio was boosted to three, it doubled the length of the destruct trigger for the female half of the species. The geneticists aren't sure why. It's an unsolved mystery. You also have to be careful about infections. They can trigger the destruct code prematurely."

I paused for a moment. "From our research, all you children were in your tenth, eleventh, and twelfth years when you were rescued?"

Pascha nodded.

I looked at her in sorrow. "Then I believe you're all going to die in the years 8246, 8247, and 8248. I'm sorry to be so blunt about this, but you deserve to know. If there was any possible way I could support research on this, I would, but..." I gave a deep sigh, unable to continue.

Pascha seemed very touched by my concern. "Oh Ilias, don't worry about us! We've led incredibly rich lives, full of love and freedom and purpose, far better than we ever could have had in the Americas. Our chief sorrow is our short window for being able to help you. Six years is such a short amount of time to change a world."

"I know. And I think we'll need the Holy's Providence for any chance of success." I saw the Australian women gulp when I said this. I decided I needed to clarify what I had just said. "Oh, I don't mean the monster Holy that's described in The Book of Bel'dar. I think we all share the same perspective about that horror."

Michal yawned. It reminded me that she and Dodi were well passed the normal part of their sleep cycle. My other wives and I spent a few minutes kissing them goodnight and getting them off to bed. The Australian women gave me beaming smiles when I returned.

"It touches our hearts Ilias," said Dalis, "to see how you love your impaired wives. The men of the Brotherhood here, they treat us with respect and fairness, but they don't honor their wives the way you do. They still see the state of eternal virginity as a normal condition."

I shrugged. "How I act? It almost doesn't feel like my decision. I have my own image of what the True Holy is, and how He wants me to act and to be. To do otherwise would be unthinkable." I was met by a set of blank stares. I thought for a second and decided to press the issue. "Tell me, do you worship?"

There was a moment of awkward silence. Dalis finally replied, "To be honest, no. As freed children, we rejected the religion of our former monastery."

I nodded and tried to smile. "Quite understandable."

"Yes, well, as adults, we did not create another." Dalis stared at me. "Ilias, do you blame us for that?"

"Blame you? Oh no! It's not my place to judge something like that, it's really not. Forgive me for bringing this topic up so soon after we've met, but I thought it important. I don't want the issue to create any later misunderstandings."

Dalis nodded. "Yes, a wise decision. So you really don't mind that we don't believe in a supernatural Holy?"

"No. Perhaps someday we can chat about your decision though. I'd like to understand your position."

Dalis looked at me very thoughtfully. "I think I'd enjoy that too."

Our conversation quickly turned to business, and we talked for more than an hour. Such a promising beginning, so full of hope. But the tasks before us were immense, awesome, seemingly impossible. I felt sure we would need the Holy's guidance to have any chance of success, perhaps even His direct aid.

Chapter 45. End of an Era

Three years later...

Time: April 1, 8243

My ramjet left Dalma promptly at 5:30 AM, ten minutes after sunrise. There had been no time to brief Dodi or Michal before departure, but they both seemed relaxed and happy and were enthralled watching the first rays of the sun sparkle across the blue Caribbean. I told them to enjoy the sights while they could. We were flying north and west to Dakar, and would land well before sunrise there and with the moon still well below the horizon.

Such a strange three years, I thought to myself, as I glanced down at my arm insignia, a square checker of purple, red, yellow and now green. As I had hoped, I had advanced to CL-29 in 8241, during the same Judgment that Utility's Ajib had advanced to CL-30. And as I had feared, I had been forced and maneuvered into advancing to CL-30 three months ago. The death of CL-30 Faisal last year had opened up opportunities for enemies I never knew existed.

My promotion as the replacement for Faisal was done in the most heavy-handed manner possible and by the sub-factions within Health and Utility that I trusted least. Currently the CL-30 position was the very last spot on the Council I wanted to be occupying. In spite of my six additional votes, I thought I would have a much better chance at Cunif Califar from my old CL-29 position. Dalma has become such a strange place for me. During my coming months at Dakar, I've been thinking of quietly hopping the new bullet-train connection to Anqara and asking Fateen his opinion of the political mess I now find myself in.

Memories. I was pushed back in my plush chair as my jet passed supersonic and the ramjets kicked in. My mind returned to the Judgment of 8240. It was little more than three years ago, but it seemed like a lifetime of political maneuvering. My wife Shephatiah was urging me seize every opportunity to become Cunif Califar. My beautiful, brilliant wife Shephatiah, is she a prophetess? After three years of intense work to weaponize the holographic science, her original insight has proven to be so accurate. All our plans now with the free woman of Australia are based on me becoming Cunif Califar this year, this year! The Australian women will start to die in a few years if I don't.

Will Abdul Quddus die this year? I've lost my inside pipeline within Health with the death of Faisal. I have no idea what our ruler's health is like, nothing since Faisal's last message to me that it was falling apart. And since my promotion to CL-30, even the other Council members of High Tech seem to be avoiding me. My flight to Dakar suddenly seemed very symbolic. I was flying away from the sun and entering an absolute darkness.

About an hour into the flight the views out the windows were pitch black and we over the heartland of a sleeping North American continent. I suddenly felt the pitch of the engines change and the plane began banking to the left, south and away from Dakar. This was completely unexpected and I activated the comm link to the cockpit to demand what was going on.

"Supreme Priority override sir," the pilot responded in our private informality. "It's completely out of our control. The plane is being re-programmed directly from the capital. There's nothing we can do about it without breaking the law."

He sounded a little worried. After Abdul Quddus and Ajib, I was the next highest ranking man on the planet, and it was a severe insult to be commandeering my plane like this without talking to me first. Another Councilman might have ordered the pilot to break the override lock, in which case the pilot would probably be executed in a matter of days, either for violating a Supreme override or violating a direct order from a Councilman.

"Understood," I replied. "Allow the override. Where are we heading?"

"Thank you sir," the pilot whispered, and then more loudly in consternation, "This override isn't even telling us our destination! One moment sir... From our heading, I think it might be Az Zarqa sir. We'll have just enough fuel to get there." There was a short pause. "I think."

Az Zarqa?! I thanked the pilot for his efforts and signed off.

Az Zarqa? That was one of Ajib's Domines, located in the central highlands of the ancient country of Equador. The city used to be called Riobamba before the War. I thought of the place. An elevation of 2700 meters, not quite Qataban but still impressive, and it was the home of the Guild that manufactures water distillation plants, a vital resource around the world. Early last year it became the first township south of the equator to be added to High Tech's bullet-train network. I thought a little more. Ajib wasn't even there. I remembered hearing a few days ago on a public hologram that he was traveling to the capital.

"Sir," the pilot broke in, "Priority triple-Z comm signal coming in."

Ah, I thought, breathing a sigh of relief. Abdul Quddus. I could use a good explanation. "Pipe it through captain," I ordered.

A second later I was staring at Aleser, supreme commander of the Royal Guard. We exchanged salutes. The man looked rigid. What in Shaitan's name was going on?

"Sir," he said, using a completely unexpected title for such a formal transmission, "I hereby formally announce that you are relieved of the title of Grand Mufeto."

Ah. Recognition set in. "When did he die Aleser?" The man looked pained. "No, wait. Don't answer that." This had to be played strictly by the book. No sense of putting a friend's life at risk.

Aleser continued. "Sir, your new title is that of Elector. It is the senior Elector's responsibility to handle all further communications."

"Agreed Aleser." That would be Ajib, the senior CL-30. I gave Aleser a farewell salute, modifying it ever so slightly to show both honor and friendship. It was a secret code buried deep within the senior ranks of the Guard. Aleser looked me straight in the eye through the hologram and returned the salute, bending a finger slightly to acknowledge our friendship. The transmission ended a second later.

Twenty hours later...

After one novel delay after another, my plane was still sitting on the tarmac at Az Zarqa. I was completely isolated except for my two trusted pilots. My only legal means of communications is to the capital, and my only responses from Ajib have been cold messages of disappointment in my delay. Hah! As if Ajib were not pulling the strings on this end. There was nothing wrong with my jet's braking system, nor the tires. I didn't care what the local diagnostics said.

He had me neatly boxed, I'll give him that much, in spite of the outlandish pettiness. My jet finally received takeoff clearance just after my wives entered their sleep cycle, and there's stormy weather both here and at the capital. I would be risking damage to both Michal's and Dodi's minds if I took-off now, unthinkable.

I glanced down at my arm insignia. That part of my stay here had been handled very efficiently. As soon as we landed, commanders of the local Priesthood had come abroad and replaced my square with the emblem of an Elector, a black outline surrounding a white pentagon. All the Council members would be wearing the same, except for Ajib as senior Elector would have five black lines joining the vertexes to the center point of the pentagon.

It would be so easy to fret and let anger and frustration rule me. I began to pray instead, and soon drifted into an uneasy sleep.

One month later...

Time: May 1, 8243 4:48 PM

I was back in my private quarters, deep within the Bandar Arenas cathedral complex. I had been assigned a room with a western view, and every day for the last month I have been watching the sun set a little earlier. I stared at the sun now. It was just minutes from sinking beneath the rolling hills on the horizon, and the coming darkness summed up my mood perfectly. Total failure, bleak and final.

I knew it was an uphill battle when I came here. It was a full council, and Utility was holding the upper hand with 17 of the 32 council votes and with Ajib as their leader. I as CL-30 and two other CL-28 High Techs were holding 11 votes. The remaining CL-28 and CL-29 comprised Health's 4 votes.

Yes, it was an uphill battle. Jibran was loyal to me, and with High Tech solidly behind me the vote at worst would have been 18 for Ajib and 14 for me. The council had three months to vote by two-thirds majority for a new ruler. If not, the Royal Guard would execute the entire Council, and the job of selecting the next Cunif Califar would fall to the Glorious Mufeto.

Barring assassinations and a deadlock, that meant the winning candidate needed 22 Electoral votes. Yes, it was an uphill battle for me, but I approached the task with a firm conviction that my Holy had not guided me this far only to watch me fall. Ajib and I spent the next month negotiating with the other council members. Ajib delayed at long as possible, a full month, before running the first vote.

There was a knock at my door.

"Enter." It was Jibran. He looked glum. He closed the door and joined me by the window. We both watched the last moments of the sun in silence.

"All over?" I whispered.

"Not quite. Today's tally was 20 to 12. We have twelve hours before the next vote."

"Ah, my friend... 5 AM?"

Jibran nodded. "An hour before morning Prayers. Ajib has already scheduled the coronation ceremony."

I nodded and sighed. "You stuck with me today Jibran. I won't forget that."

A quiet laugh. "Neither will Ajib, I suspect." There was a long moment of silence. "Ilias?"

"Hmmm?"

"I can't do it again. I won't ride the Council into execution, I won't, and Ajib has all the other votes locked."

"I know."

"Shaitan Ilias! I've been warning you for years that popular appeal with the Guard and the masses is not the path to ruler. The factions want someone who will depend on them for power. Instead, you have huge crowds singing you songs wherever you go! Don't you see how deadly that is to your career?!"

"I can't have power and not use it for good Jibran. Look at Qataban now! Its hospital is the best in South America, better even than the capital's!"

Jibran frowned and took a moment to calm down. He then continued. "Tomorrow morning, the only question is whether Ajib is elected by 32 to 0 or 23 to 9. Ilias, Ajib is extremely desirous for this vote to be unanimous. That's why he didn't mind my vote this evening. He wants me to persuade you."

"Shaitan Jibran! It's not just me! Behold his pettiness! The man will be the worst ruler in five thousand years!"

Jibran sighed. "Oh, I don't doubt it. Nevertheless..." He sighed again. "Pity Faisal isn't still alive. The dynamics would have been totally different. He would have put all of Health solidly behind High Tech. With that base, we could easily have picked off Utility's votes."

"It was a lesson for me, I'll give you that, how fragile political alliances can be." I grimaced for a moment and in my sorrow said something ridiculous. "I'm still suspicious of Faisal's death."

Jibran gave a mocking laugh. "Really?! I must say, it took me by surprise. I didn't think Ajib had the guts."

I frowned. "For all his pettiness, I'm not sure he does. Somehow I still see him as both the puppeteer and the puppet."

"Ah. The new sub-faction in Health?"

"Oh, they're definitely controlling some of the strings."

Jibran nodded. "Cheer up Ilias! Ajib won't move against you, not overtly, not unless you oppose him on the Council, and you're looking forward to what, 140 years as CL-30? Political winds shift much faster than that."

I merely sighed in reply.

Another long moment of silence followed. "Coming to dinner?"

I shook my head no. "Faisal mentioned to me he was looking forward to a nice dinner, the day before he died. Somehow I think this evening might be a good time for a fasting Prayer."

"Indeed? There was no evidence of poisoning in the autopsy." He paused. "Going off to the cathedral then?"

"Yep."

"I'll join you." Jibran took a deep breath and laughed. "It'll be interesting to see the expressions we get from the Priesthood!"

The next morning's Prayer service was perhaps the most difficult I had ever attended. Ajib started a new tradition, having the Electors wear a gold pentagon for their affirmations and a black pentagon for their objections. Jibran had given a small gasp during the early morning vote, which otherwise was held in silence. It left me wondering. Was he play-acting, or did my own friend really know me so little?