The Preacher Man

"Six months to go," I thought as I walked briskly through my palace compound. It was the dawn of a new day and the walk would take a while. My palace was vast, and my destination was on the far opposite side from my private quarters. But my body felt desperate for some exercise. My morning walk was one of my few indulgences.

"We still have six months," I thought to myself as I half-jogged along the kilometers of the vast corridors and courtyards, searching within myself for some spark of optimism, however tiny. It would be six months before people will begin to be stricken with fatal anti-aging withdrawal. "Make every moment count Abdul Hadi, make every Holy moment count..."

The morning daybreak was beautiful, the sun rising just ten minutes before. As I passed though one of the arboretums, I looked up and admired the first rays of the golden sunlight illuminating the tops of the tall straight trucks of the monkey-puzzle trees. All around me by my feet were pretty austral bellflowers, hardy hybrids blooming profusely in the damp weather of early spring. I breathed in deeply to savor the earthy smells, then breathed out and watched the vapor of my breath form in the chilly air. It was a moment of peace in the sweet garden.

"What more of a Holy sign do you need Abdul Hadi?" I asked myself. "Life is both beautiful and enduring. Have courage! Have hope!"

Such changes in our society, deeper than I or any of my family ever imagined possible. Throughout the world, all thoughts of gender slavery and mind mutilation are completely gone. For the first time ever, Utility and High Tech and Health and the Priesthood are united in common cause. Our sole focus now is our collective effort to save our species, to create some kind of inheritance for our children, our dear and precious children.

Among the first of my sweeping changes in mid August was a royal decree abolishing the daily Prayer cycle. My speech was holocast to the world. Urging people to Pray continually while they worked, I made the point that we just didn't have the time now for formal and structured services. Every single moment we had was needed to transfer as much practical knowledge as possible to the young children, those who had still not received their first anti-aging injection.

All children now before their thirteenth year now have an A before their Citizen Level status. The oldest are the CL-A12's, the next younger year are the CL-A11's. Boy or girl, it makes no difference. And it is the girls who hold the keys to our species' slim hope of survival.

As the month of August ended and the days of September progressed, it became obvious to everybody how incredibly wasteful and stupid our former system of education had been. The young boys had been trained mostly in spiritual and physical disciplines, expecting to receive their practical training after their potentials were evaluated and scored by the Guilds at their second gate. Their lives had also been filed with eight hours of formal Prayer each day. They were very ill prepared for crash courses in how to run the complex technology of the adult world.

The girls on the other hand had had three hours of formal Prayer a day, and had spent their lives since toddlers desperately cramming as much practical knowledge as they could before their dreaded marriage gate. They were as prepared as they could possibly be to take on the frantic task of learning how to run the adult world with a single year of additional preparation. All of our world's resources are now aligned to this single effort. Every other social endeavor has been subordinated to a value of zero.

The girls worldwide responded to the challenge by first shedding their burqas and even their headscarves, testing us and seeing their old garbs as signs of their former slavery. I passed an edict that anyone passed the critical age of twelve would be executed if he or she seriously harassed any girl about this. An awful edict to be sure, but our situation is simply too critical to tolerate the old, sick hatreds.

The girls petitioned me personally, asking that I grant them permission to organize and collectively negotiate with us. In a tearful meeting with their provisional representatives, I agreed completely and praised them for their initiative.

And the girls responded in love. They have collectively pledged to build a world based on full gender equality after we are gone, to the very limits of their ability. Their forgiveness of the male gender is profound, and has touched the heart of the world. Our gratitude is frequently expressed in tears, both from the males and their eternal virgin wives.

Is it possible for our species to go on? It will be very difficult for the young children after we are gone, even to survive. They'll have vast knowledge bases at their disposal, but no adults or even teenagers to help or teach them. They'll also have the awesome responsibility of caring for and rearing children who are even younger than they are. Their tasks sometimes seem impossibly difficult, yet they are approaching the coming year with a grim determination to succeed.

Is survival physically possible? There are so many unknowns. Food production, transportation, power generation, the production of citizen staples, we are trying to automate our facilities as much as possible. But some critical functions are so difficult to automate, the numerous health services are prime examples.

Is survival physically possible? The best the young boys can hope for is to live until their twenty-third year. That's when the death trigger will take them. The girls will have an enormous advantage in longevity by living until their thirty-third year. Multiply this by the three to one birth ratio of girls to boys. Adult males will be outnumbered by adult females by more than ten to one. The girls are so kind to accept the boys as equals.

Both lifespans, the female and especially the male, seem horribly short, but they might allow just enough time to breed the next generation. Most children will probably have two mothers though, the one who births them, and a younger one who completes their rearing.

The constraints that the orphaned girls will be under will be monumental, especially with the economics of education. All males will die in their twenty-third year at the latest. Will it make economic sense to give these boys advanced training, only to have them die a year or two after graduation? I worry that the girls will be forced by the hard economics to reserve the top professional fields exclusively for women. Will slavery of the males occur next? Will our species become almost pure female, with a few captive males held as studs? It could happen. The future generations of boys are so innocent of our sins. They deserve so much better than to switch places with today's eternal virgins.

And in addition to all these hardships, there is still one final great trial before the girls. In the scant literature we have managed to save from the geneticist fires, it is suggested that the state of pregnancy in itself can trigger the early manifestation of the death trigger. If the girls later find this to be the common result of becoming pregnant, then our species is indeed at the twilight of its existence.

In the chaos of the world in mid August, five days after the end of the civil war, my wives and I and the women of Australia made a monumental decision. We decided to tell CL-28 Hani everything, all our secrets. Why? Because we were desperate for his help. The women of Australia thought the extinction crisis provided a perfect opportunity to expose their existence to the world, but we would need Hani's help to keep the cover story going.

It took a large team of heretics in 8224 to smuggle the girls from Qataban to Boddington and help them to become self-sufficient in their early years. These men were all members of the Brotherhood of the Rose, men on the lottery system for the anti-aging drugs. The only man not on the lottery system who was involved with the plan was Ammar, and after twenty years, he is the only one still alive. Currently two additional members of the Brotherhood know of the women's true origins, the two senior managers of the mine. All other men there were told a cover story for the women's presence.

As the old core died out and new members of the Brotherhood were brought to Australia, Ammar and his team decided it would be safer to tell the new men a cover story. The story was that the Utility and Health factions had an agreement to perform a secret medical experiment. Health was studying the potency of the death trigger, allowing an isolated female population to develop without the anti-aging drugs. The women kept to themselves and peacefully coexisted with the miners, helping with the mining operations and turning the surrounding area into a beautiful paradise.

Hani readily agreed to make the cover story seem real. With his vast knowledge of medical records operations, he implanted extra records into deep archives both at Dalma and the damaged libraries at Giza. By early September, we were ready to announce to the world that the Holy had favored us with a blessing during our time of trials. Almost a thousand highly skilled and undamaged adult women had been found in Australia. They could provide critical guidance to the young children for several years after the rest of us were dead. In affirmation and acceptance of this new group, I even married the head of their medical unit. I'm speaking of Eleora of course.

"I see you're up early today Abdul Hadi!"

I turned and smiled at a beautiful young woman who had joined me in my brisk walk. Her name was Hadassa, a very accomplished musician and one of the 0.7's saved from this year's marriage gate. I had met her once before, when I introduced myself to the 383 women at an evening dinner a few days before the end of the civil war. I remember Hadassa shyly taking off her burqa veil when I asked her to. I wanted to see all of my palace's guests without their masks.

Instead of a burqa now, she had her head free, her blond hair tied back in a ponytail. She was wearing a modest dress, and a warm Karbalan wool jacket against the cold. There was even a small, red flower woven into her hair at the side of her head. Such loveliness! How stupid our old ways had been!

"Hadassa!" I called back. "It's very nice to see you! Getting any chance to play the flute?"

"Hah!" she laughed. "You remember my name! And my training! That's amazing!"

"Oh, memory is easy for me. Besides, I would never want to forget you regardless."

"Hah!" She laughed again and blushed shyly. "Thank you Abdul Hadi, for everything you've done. I mean it. And to answer your question, no. My flute is packed away." We continued walking together and she added, "Sometimes I play it when I'm asleep, in my dreams I mean. I think of the music and play my flute in my dreams."

I nodded. "Yes, the same for me too. I enjoy exercise very much, but so many of life's enjoyments have to be postponed now. Sometimes I dream about going through the forms of my Shotokan Katas."

Hadassa nodded and then surprised me. She cupped her hand to her mouth and blew out hard, warming her hand with her breath. Hadassa then offered me both a shy smile and her hand. I gratefully accepted, and we walked for a short while in silence, sharing the wonderful human contact.

Hadassa finally broke the silence. "Don't get me wrong," she said softly. "About my dreams I mean. I would never want to go back to the old ways."

"No, of course not. Nor should you."

Hadassa nodded. "These last few months... I feel more alive now than I've ever felt before. My life has purpose now, a purpose good and true."

"Yes, exactly," I nodded back. "I remember feeling the same way when I was a boy growing up. Finding a purpose good and true, dedicating myself to it. I think the Holy creates us to be this way, to seek His purpose, to seek and enjoy it."

"Enjoy it?" asked Hadassa timidly. "Wow. I understand what you mean. It's just that what you're saying is so incredibly different from all the years of my religious instruction. I was trained to give absolute obedience to any man who owned me, submit to anything he desired. My own enjoyment was never mentioned."

I squeezed her hand. She squeezed me back. I took a chance and stopped for a moment, pretending to clear a bit of leaf from her hair. As my face was near to hers, hidden from any possible surveillance camera, I whispered near her ear, "I know Hadassa. In the Holy's mercy, the long nightmare has finally ended."

She did not react, remaining still and obedient as I removed the pretend bit of leaf. But when we started walking again, she took my hand and held it very firmly. We walked for another short while, both our minds in deep thoughts.

"Where are you heading?" I said at last.

"To the boy's monastery. I'll be giving several classes today, and spending the rest of my time as a tutor, basic mathematics, mostly first-level algebra." We took another few steps. "And you?"

"Ah, my first item is a 5 AM meeting with the girl's A12 leadership council, over at the Onyx Pavilion."

"Oh, what a beautiful place! I've been there once. Do you meet there often?"

"With A12 leadership? Sure. We meet there every day, first thing in the morning."

Hadassa nodded. We soon came to a large courtyard intersection. She gestured with a nod of her head towards the perimeter of my palace and the adjacent boy's monastery. "Well, Abdul Hadi, I guess this is where we part company."

Still holding my hand to keep me still, she reached up with her other hand and pretended to work a bit of leaf from my hair. Her face was very close to mine. "I'll have this out in a second," she called out, and then the softest of a whisper, "Our savior, you have indeed ended our nightmare." She gave a feather-light caress of my temple with her fingers.

"Got it!" she called out. She squeezed my hand goodbye, and then quickly jumped up to be on tip-toes to give me an affectionate kiss on my cheek. Blushing intensely, she whirled and ran off down the path, never seeing the tears of appreciation and returned affection that were forming in my eyes.

I recovered by the time I got to my meeting. Such an amazing sight! I do this every day and still can't get over it. Around a deeply polished oval stone table sit eight 12-year old girls. Most have their legs swinging back and forth, the adult chairs not letting their young legs quite touch the ground. I spoke to Kefira once, the chairperson of the girl's leadership team, if I should have more appropriate chairs brought in, maybe even a lower table, but she told me not to bother. She laughed at the thought and then said she enjoyed swinging her legs.

I nodded to the girls now and got friendly nods back. I was just sitting down at my place at the table when my personal communicator buzzed. Kefira looked up with interest. We both knew how important we considered these meetings, and Kefira guessed the matter would have to be very important indeed for the call to go through and reach me.

I wondered who it was as I accepted the call. A second later I recognized the voice of Abigail. "Abdul Hadi?"

"Hi Abby."

"Husband, can you make it back home?"

"Now?"

"Yes, immediately."

I thought for a second. For Abigail to ask such a thing without explanation, the issue would have to be monumental. "All right. I'll catch an express. Expect me in ten minutes."

I got up and nodded at the girls. Kefira nodded back in sympathy to show acceptance of my departure. Most of the other girls looked startled by this very unusual break of protocol. One girl who was scheduled to make a presentation to me this morning started to look a little miffed. She began to pout.

The pout did not go unnoticed by Kefira. "Lilah!" she yelled out. "Stop that! This is an example of a woman and a man working together as a team! Observe and learn!"

I locked eyes with Kefira for an instant. The A12's eyes were alive with brilliant intelligence, and then the cheerfulness of her heart touched and softened her gaze. We smiled at each other and then I quickly left the room.

Chapter 56. Parental Request

Time: November 11, 8244 5:10 AM

I got home and found all six of my wives there, another indication that something big was up. Abby quickly led me into our most informal conference room, the one with a lot of bean bag chairs. Dodi and Michal were looking happy and alert, having just awoken from their purge cycles an hour ago. Abby, Sheffie, Chanah, and Eleora by contrast looked very agitated, bursting with excitement.

I smiled at Abby across from me as Eleora sat close by my right side and Dodi by my left. "I hoping this it something good," I chirped.

Abby nodded. "Something tremendous if we're right. Husband, do you have time for some background first?"

"Take all the time you want. What's up?"

"History! A hundred... no, thousands of pieces of the historical puzzle fell into place this morning, right after you left. The crystal data, the Qataban archives, the palace data-store, and now the new library fragments from Giza..." Abby took a deep breath. "Let me start from the beginning. We think we know why the War of the Burning Metals really started."

"Overpopulation, right?"

"Well, yes, but that's just part of the answer. It was a nuclear battle between a new species of human, us, and the original humans. Twenty-five to thirty years before the war, a new human genome was created, one that could successfully take the anti-aging drugs and live to be three-hundred years old."

I stared at Abby in shock. "So soon?!"

"Yes, before the war! And by the time the war started the new humans were breeding just as fast as the old humans, maybe even faster. But there was no place for them to go, no place for them to be. Our ancestors even offered to buy Antarctica, to have a nation of their own there."

Chanah spoke up. "We think our genome is much hardier than the original. We're faster, stronger, keener senses, better balance and reflexes, we need only four hours of sleep at night, so many advantages. Our genome is also self-repairing against radiation damage, much more than the original. That's why the refugee population flooding Punta Arenas was mostly our species. We overwhelmed the city's original inhabitants, and then we slaughtered them."

I was silent for a moment. It always bothered me how a refugee population could come up with all the new miracle sciences. Now I knew. The pre-war population had created it for them. Or should I say us? I nodded to my wives. "Okay."

Abigail continued. "There are so many myths as to the timing and reason for Bel'dar's death. Our best guess now it happened about the year 40. We think Bel'dar had at least two sons. One became Abdul Wahid Sami, Servant of the Ineffably Sublime, the second Cunif Califar. The other is quite a mystery in the records. His name is never mentioned. He went off to found a monastery which would become the spiritual power center to back up the central secular government."

"Ah," I nodded. "Babylon."

Abigail smiled and shook her head. "No! Not Babylon. Think husband! It was just 40 years after the war. The post-war battles of extermination were over, but we were still in the early years of the Wild Times. Bel'dar's two sons needed to be closer to each other than Bandar Arenas and Babylon. That's 4600 kilometers, a huge distance at the time."

Abigail's point suddenly hit me. "Tobruk!"

"Yes!" she cried. "Exactly! About 500 kilometers, at the shell of ancient Puerto Eden. Close enough for secure contact, but far enough away to separate the two seats of power. We don't know the name of Bel'dar's second son, but we do know he had a child. He was the man who eventually murdered his uncle and became the third Cunif Califar."