The Preacher Man

The coronation during the Prayer of Counted Failings seemed to last forever. I longed for 10 AM when I would become a Grand Mufeto once more, not so much for the power, but to see my dear wives again. We have been isolated from each other ever since we landed at the capital.

And so I watched the end of Ajib and the birth of Abdul Muhsi, Servant of the Reckoner and 84th Great Cunif Califar. Afterwards I went immediately to a palace holding area to pick up my wives. The coronation had been holographed throughout the world. With minimal gestures of recognition, we refrained from talking. My wives already knew of my failure, and the open areas of Abdul Muhsi's great palace were no place for us to have a conversation. With a minimal guard, we headed off to the airport in stone silence. My heart felt so heavy with its failure. The women of Australia had become dear friends to me, and the path for my pledge to my true Holy lay in ruins.

At the airport I was met by another example of our new ruler's pettiness. He was flying a large celebration party back to Az Zarqa, and he had commandeered my personal ramjet for his extended party. My ramjet! The man has a dozen others lying idle nearby, and yet had taken the time to ride in mine. I shocked my guards by heading off to the public areas of the airport and booking commercial flights for all of us to Qataban.

We were in luck. There was a flight leaving in the early afternoon. We would spend the night at home, at my beautiful cathedral at Qataban. I looked at my wives in their burqas, wondering what they were thinking? Did they blame me? Oh, how I missed Abigail's counsel during this last month!

I sighed again at the insult my new ruler had handed me. My plane! Well, at least the man hasn't cut all my purse strings... and yet... Shaitan! My plane! I paused for a moment. My plane?

Chapter 46. End of an Era, Take Two

Two hours later...

Time: May 2, 8243 1:27 PM

I had purchased a dozen tickets, Bandar Arenas nonstop to Qataban for me, my five wives, two pilots, and four guards. We were standing in a public line waiting to board, and personally I couldn't wait to leave the capital. My thoughts drifted to the other councilmen. They had all left before 11 AM and were probably all on the ground at Az Zarqa by now.

All except Jibran. I looked at the time and calculated. Jibran's ramjet had left a little after 11 AM and was headed for Aleppo, along the ancient coast of Massachusetts. I thought he was probably already two-thirds of the way there. Jibran was the only other councilman not invited to the party at Az Zarqa, even though he had been wearing a gold pentagon this morning. I guessed it was Abdul Muhsi's way of showing his displeasure that Jibran had not secured my vote. I shook my head slightly in disgust.

I stared out the terminal windows to the west, away from the tarmac and the planes. The scenery was quite beautiful, gentle rolling river valleys running east-west, and the sunlight was golden. I tried to come up with a pleasant thought. It seemed wrong to despair, with so much of the Holy's beauty just outside the windows. "Come on Ilias," I thought to myself. "A pleasant thought. There must be something..."

Well, at least the commoners in the line didn't seem to be enjoying my downfall. I had been getting many slight nods of sympathy from the crowd around me. I began looking at the people around me and acknowledging their kindness with my eyes.

There seemed to be a loud commotion in the terminal behind us, and as the sounds got louder I saw a very large contingent of Royal Guard approaching us, wearing full battle dress. Their devil-dogs were still in their holsters, but I knew how lightning fast these troops were. "My Holy," I thought, "what was our new ruler up to?"

Aleser approached me and stiffly saluted. I saluted back. "Sir!" he shouted, for all the concourse to hear, "I hereby formally announce that you are relieved of the title of Grand Mufeto!"

"Indeed?" I said quietly back. I thought I would refrain from asking on whose authority. Abdul Muhsi would have held the council vote in midair. I idly wondered if Jibran had stuck with me. I hoped not. My friend deserved his life. My wives! What would become of them?!

But then I took a closer look at Aleser. The Holy! Was the man grinning?!

Aleser continued, "Sir! Your new title is that of Senior Elector!" No question now, his eyes were alive with laughter. He raised his arms and offered me a new shirt. The white pentagon complete with interior black lines was clearly visible

I was having a difficult time understanding what he was saying. The crowds around us stood in shocked silence for a moment, and then some of the men started to sing a very old Prayer, the Hymn of Deliverance. Others quickly joined in.

"We need a private place to talk," I muttered to Aleser above the chorus, and I led us out of the public areas and the growing thunder of the song.

Before we entered a secure conference area I turned to Aleser and gestured to my wives. "I want these females back in their holding pens at the palace Aleser, and I want them extremely well cared for!"

"Of course Senior Elector!" he shouted above the noise, and then barked some terse orders to the guards. My wives were led off with a small contingent of guard around them.

The two of us then entered a small, plush room. As I activated the shields, I also blocked out the outside noise as well. The effect was quite dramatic.

"The Holy Aleser!" I said with a grin. "Is the whole airport singing?"

"Bellowing might be a better choice for the word, Senior Elector," he grinned back. There was more than laughter in his eyes though. As I looked closely, I thought I could also see something akin to adoration.

And I still had no idea what was going on. "Report Aleser," I said simply, "from the beginning, and just Ilias will be fine."

"Yes Ilias!" He took a deep breath. "Abdul Muhsi's ramjet, uh, your ramjet Ilias, was the last of the Az Zarqa party to leave. Liftoff was at 10:49 AM. The Cunif Califar wanted the others already on the ground to cheer him when he arrived at Az Zarqa."

"Not surprising."

"No. At 12:22 PM, the ramjet was at 17,000 meters, traveling 4,067 kph and 800 km from Az Zarqa. That's when it was scheduled to begin to decelerate and descend."

"Uh huh."

"It was also the time ground control would transfer from Bandar Arenas to Az Zarqa. The ramjet was shielded. Portal tunnel link was successfully disconnected from Bandar Arenas at 12:22:05 PM. But Az Zarqa control could not re-establish the link through the open portal."

"Ah..." I said. I was starting to have a dim idea of what had happened. Ah, the miracles of modern science and space-age technology. My heart was filled with joy, with just a touch of guilt that so much death could generate such pleasure.

"The pilots should have unshielded immediately and held position while allowing open communications. Instead, the jet continued on its normal landing approach fully shielded. It then started a slight deviation from its assigned flight path, drifting slightly to the east. It was a small fraction of a degree, but at those speeds, over the next twenty minutes, the drift accumulated into a number of kilometers. It wasn't until 12:37 PM when the controllers at Az Zarqa realized the jet's flight path would take it directly over an active volcano."

"The Sanguay?" I whispered. It was one of the most active volcanoes in the world, and had kept its ancient name through eight thousand years of history.

Aleser flashed me a devilish grin, and if to say, "As if you didn't know!" He said out loud, "Yes, the Sanguay. The flight path would take the jet directly over the center of the crater at 12:41 PM. By this time we had detailed satellite imagery locked on the plane, but still no way to communicate. The plane was still descending, and about to go sub-sonic."

He took a moment to take a deep breath. "Four minutes Ilias... There was no time to do anything."

"No, of course not. Go on."

Aleser nodded. "By this time I was watching from our control center here at the capital. We did some frantic calculations. We thought we were safe. The height of the Sanguay is 5230 meters, and the jet would still be at 5400 meters when it cleared the northern rim of the crater. We started to assume the flight deviation was intentional, that Abdul Muhsi wanted to show his guests the throat of Sanguay. It's filled with molten rock now, red hot."

"I saw it myself on the satellite imagery," he whispered. "The jet was 63 km from the airport and eleven minutes from its scheduled landing. As the jet neared the southern rim, it suddenly was put into a full-power dive. The jet went super-sonic directly over the lava pit, and then slammed into the northern rim on the interior side, we estimate sixty meters below the top of the rim."

Aleser stared at me in awe. "Complete disintegration on impact, and then the small pieces fell as a cloud onto the molten rock. I have reviewed the tapes with the Priesthood at Babylon, and our decision was unanimous. The reign of Abdul Muhsi has ended."

I took a deep sigh and glanced at my hands. They were trembling. "Who else was in the plane?"

"Eight other passengers. The two council members from Health, CL-28 Hussam and CL-29 Imaad, plus Utility's CL-29 Ragheb, plus three senior geneticists, plus two guardsmen."

"The Holy Aleser," I whispered, "the entire core of Abdul Muhsi's power base."

"The Holy indeed Ilias," he whispered back.

"Are the remaining council members informed?"

"Yes sir, all of them. Two ramjets at Az Zarqa are being refueled. Jibran was going to divert to Sohar, but your personal security team at Dalma invited him to refuel there instead. All surviving councilmen should be here this evening."

I nodded absently, my mind a whirlwind of thoughts. The Guard had pushed the boundaries of their authority trying to be helpful to me. I felt profoundly grateful. "Anything else?"

"Nothing official..."

I grinned. "Go on."

"Ilias, you are completely above reproach for any of this. While he was still senior Elector, Ajib had your plane examined for several days by his private technicians. He had this seizure of your jet planned for at least that long. At the controls were two of his most loyal pilots. This was no mechanical failure. Both men must have put the plane into a full-power dive. The satellite imagery supports no other conclusion. And now all the evidence consists of tiny fragments mixed with molten rock, deep down in Sanguay's conduit... There's nothing left to investigate."

I did a quick calculation in my head, laughing at myself that the simple addition of a few numbers seemed so difficult. The new Electoral Council would be half its previous voting size. I alone would control nine of the sixteen votes. All I needed were eleven votes for election. Jibran's three would be more than enough, and I felt certain High-Tech's two CL-28s would gladly rejoin my alliance. That left Utility's two surviving CL-28s as the only possible holdouts, and what would be the point of them resisting the obvious? I made a mental note to be gracious in my forgiveness.

I was stunned to realize I could wrap this whole thing up with one short meeting this evening. I stared in semi-shock at Aleser. "Perhaps you should tell the Babylon Priests not to go home quite yet."

"They've already cancelled their afternoon flights, and are working for a coronation ceremony tomorrow morning, if that's convenient for you sir."

I chuckled. "One day after the last one?! It's that obvious, isn't it?"

"Yes sir. I'll miss calling you Ilias sir. Any thoughts for your new name?"

"Can you keep a secret Aleser?"

He gave me a playful grin.

"Abdul Hadi." I whispered.

"The 85th Cunif Califar, Servant of the Guide," Aleser whispered back in approval. "Nice choice sir." A moment of silence passed. "It's a sacred combination sir, eight and five, the two high holy digits. I heard the Babylonian Priests talking. There is a prophesy within the Code of Bel'dar, that the 85th ruler will do great things, truly Earth shattering."

I looked at Aleser thoughtfully. "I'll try not to disappoint."

Chapter 47. A New Life

One month later...

Time: June 5, 8243 11:27 PM

I spent a full month at the capital after my coronation. The position of my political enemies lay in ruins, and it was a priceless opportunity to build new alliances and political structures before the opposition could recover. With Jibran's help, my standing within Utility now is more solid than it's ever been, my home faction in High Tech is thrilled to have me as Cunif Califar, and I even have some good relationships with Health, not as broad as they were when I had Faisal, but still very promising. It's probably the first time in several thousand years that the political landscape has been this harmonious.

And the price for all this? I have been neglecting my wives. My palace at Bandar Arenas is so vast, my security detail is still not satisfied as to the shielding. So my contacts with my wives have been minimal. I would call for one every few days, just for a few hours of petting and coitus and a sleep partner, and then off she'd go back to her holding pen. Abby and Sheffie and Chanah are superb actors and accepted this humiliating schedule with poise and grace. Michal just giggled and Dodi openly laughed when they woke up with me and read in their marriage books that they were wedded to the Cunif Califar.

Ah, Cunif Califar. It still feels a bit awkward, to think of myself as one. That was the one small issue I overruled my Council on, but it was my 27 votes to their 7, and what's the point of being a supreme legislature in all secular matters if I can't occasionally get my way? The matter required a 75% super majority vote. Surprisingly, I needed all my voting power to change how people address me. Even Jibran thought I was making a mistake, but he was the only one who didn't bother to try to change my mind. He knows me too well.

So now everyone may address me simply at Abdul Hadi or Servant of the Guide, which ever they choose. And it's no longer a criminal offense to forget and call me Ilias, though it's quite touching to see that no one has made that mistake yet.

The name change is taking some time getting used to. I did something a little unusual with my wives, not exactly illegal but not far from it. I wrote in all their marriage books that my former name was Ilias. Abby knew me by that name before her supposed transformation into eternal virginity, so we would have some cover there. But it would be an absolute disaster for anyone to hear Shephatiah or Chanah call me Ilias. My undamaged wives have told me in our secret sign language that they have spent hours drilling the thought that my name is now Abdul Hadi, Servant of the Guide. We hold hands under the covers as we sleep at night and communicate. It's a little slow, but very endearing and intimate.

We finally arrived here at Dakar early this afternoon, on a fine late spring day in the Northern Hemisphere. The capital was getting quite dark this time of year, only eight hours between sunrise and sunset now, and Dakar's contrasting light and rugged and pristine mountains and lakeside beauty were a joy to us all. I've promised my wives we'll spend at least two months here, and then at least another two months at Qataban. This place and Qataban seem like home to us, in a way the capital and perhaps Dalma never will. We were all looking forward to some rest and playtime with each other.

"Three minutes," Chanah called out. We were about to communicate with Australia again, our first chance in many months. We had so much to tell them and so much to thank them for. It was all their doing, it must have been, the plane crash that led to my coronation. And now it was time to express our gratitude.

I watched Chanah work the console, my heart full of admiration for her. It was her suggestion initially to link my personal computer arrays in Dakar, Qataban, and Dalma into one distributed super-computer. The shielded set-up provides a perfect cover for communicating with Australia whenever we wish, and it also provides the free women of Australia with an incredible computing resource, far greater than anything they have available at the mining site. Chanah's vision paid off a million-fold this year. It was this computer processing power combined with our specialized holographic science that allowed the May magic to take place.

My heart was bursting with song. It was now time to thank the people who had cut the strings between the puppet and the puppeteer and then had thrown them both into a fiery pit. Chanah flashed me a hand signal of five open fingers. Video would start in five seconds.

And the video was superb! After years of intense development, the six Australian women looked absolutely indistinguishable from living beings. And the holo-emitters could now drive sound waves from the location of their virtual mouths. Unless I placed my hand upon their virtual bodies and pushed into the light, the illusion of presence was without flaw.

I smiled at my saviors. "So, how's the reception on your end?"

"Resolution looks perfect," answered Dalis. She added sweetly, "It's so nice to be with you again and also to meet you for the first time, Abdul Hadi."

I grinned. "Yes, the metamorphosis is complete. Do you think I look different?"

Dalis took my question seriously and openly stared at my body for a moment. "To be truthful, yes, just a bit. Your carriage looks more regal." She then blushed. "Oh, forgive me Abdul Hadi! I'm not trying to flatter!" She smiled at me and then noticed I was staring at her own body in return. "Abdul Hadi, what?"

I felt myself blushing back. Though we've never met in person, Dalis and her companions have become very close friends to me. I sometimes find myself wanting to open my heart to them as completely as I do with my wives. None of my wives has ever discouraged me in this. Our conference now was among one extended but intimate family. I felt I would risk my life for my Australian family as easily as I chose to risk it for Abigail in Qataban so many years ago.

I sighed and finally responded to Dalis. "Your observation got me to thinking. I'm blessed with an almost perfect memory, both for facts and visual imagery. I was comparing your image now to when we first met."

Dalis nodded. "And?"

"You look subtly different too. And it's not just the better resolution."

Dalis stretched her bare arms and looked at herself for a moment. "Well, I'm aging. This is what the body of a woman approaching thirty years looks like when it's not held back by anti-aging drugs. We're starting to look different. I wonder if a trained geneticist could pick me out in a crowd now, for looking a little strange."

Bithiah spoke next. "Abdul Hadi, what should we discuss first? Do you want to debrief us on the May 2nd incident?"

"Ah, you're a true magician Bithy. You can read minds!"

She gave me a warm laugh. "Oh, sometimes it's not hard! Let me begin." She took a deep breath. "We followed the news reports in April of course, saw the trouble you were in. All six of us here watched the coronation ceremony of Abdul Muhsi on May 2nd, saw you sitting alone and isolated with your black pentagon that morning. And then shortly before 11 AM, we were surprised to see your ramjet taking off from the capital. We decided to shine the satellite laser on your plane and try to contact you."

"Ah, the brilliant foresight of Chanah," I commented, "to set up the passive link."

"Oh yes, Providential," answered Bithiah. "Dalis might not believe in your Holy yet, but this event has convinced me! You honored us Abdul Hadi, by allowing us to look in on you unannounced, and the gift repaid itself a million-fold that day."