RABAN (The Rabanian Book 2)

by Dan Haronian

  "Of course it's always important to remember where you started from, and we started from almost nothing, but it's also important to realize the progress you have made, and we have progressed a lot."

  The people cheered and he raised his voice. "And Mampas knows that the forces and intelligence that moved Naan forward, and transformed it into what it is today, will be at their disposal whenever needed."

  The crowd continued to cheer, and Daio raised his hands to thank them. In the background, music started to play. The volume grew as he slowly started to walk down from the stage. He passed through the crowd and made his way to the guests from Mampas. He paused along the way and people shook both of his hands and greeted him warmly. When he reached the group of guests he shook their hands and everyone smiled and laughed.

  My father's face was motionless, as if he didn't hear what was going on around him. Maybe he heard them but he didn't care. He smiled from time to time and exchanged words with people standing next to him. He seemed embarrassed. I didn't think he felt insulted, but I was. Knowing my mother I knew it hurt her too. She glanced around her, and smiled uncomfortably.

  It was hard to decide if Daio had complimented the City of the Chosen or ridiculed us. If his words were meant as a complement I thought they should have been more sharp and clear. If he’d meant to ridicule us, then according to the rules of diplomacy, this was probably the right way to do it.

  Farther to my left I saw Naan laughing. I had no doubt he was laughing at the things his father had said about the City of the Chosen. Our eyes met for a moment, but that was enough to erase the smile from his face.

  I look back at my father and my heart ached. I was angry he didn't care whether the glory and recognition he was deserved were given to someone else.

  It made no difference to me if it was a slip of the tongue or if Daio really harbored negative thoughts about the City of the Chosen. My cousins had heard his words though and I am sure the things they'd heard in other conversations were more explicit. It was an important moment in my life. I could not control my father's feelings but I would not allow anyone to undermine the City of the Chosen. I decided to dedicate myself to making sure the City of the Chosen would be the most important thing in Naan's economy.

  The first Flyeyes had come to Naan with the Mampas army twenty-five years ago when they came to stop the Doctor's imaginary invaders. Daio remembered them well. He’d been in the forest and the Flyeyes had crashed around him like a swarm of drunken bees.

  Since their reintroduction many years later, Naan's engineers, together with their colleagues from Mampas, had worked to create a modified version. Despite the evolution the Flyeyes had gone through on Mampas in those years they still struggled to sustain stable flight in Naan's thin air, and they still tended to crash. This fact was surprising to untrained people. Huge shuttles and hovercraft of all kinds landed and took off from Naan without any problems. The engineers knew that the lifting technology of the Flyeyes vibrating wings was just different enough to make the difference.

  Naan's Flyeyes where known as Heneg's “toys". Their history in Naan began during one of Daio's visits to Mampas. There he was presented with new, small, and extremely fast Flyeyes.

  "This new version is quiet and can identify fine details in the desert at high altitude," President Monash told him. "The rebels have no clue how much we know about them," he added. Daio wondered why he might need such a device. There was no desert on Naan nor were there any rebels.

  Soon however Flyeyes were hovering in the streets of Naan. In addition to maintaining law and order they had many civilian uses. Those only came into play after their suicide statistics improved.

  This task was given to Heneg just after his appointment to the post of Minister of Security of Naan. About that same time, Naan became the planet’s ambassador to Mampas. A few years later Raban became the head manager of the Agriculture Department of the City of the Chosen. Indeed the difference between the two places came into play also in the roles of the cousins.

  Heneg was no scientist. He didn't understand the details and therefore had a hard time understanding why it was so difficult for the Flyeyes to hover properly. In the first attempt ten Flyeyes where released into the streets of the city of Naan. Their control center was set up in the basement of the government building and he and his team followed them through their sensors. A short while after the release one of them lost control when it turned onto the main street and crashed into a passing car. It rolled across the street sparking. A second Flyeye missed a turn on the street just before Mampas set, and crashed into the wall. A third got lost in the woods when darkness fell. Heneg ordered a stop to the experiment. On their way back to the base, he lost another Flyeye when it crashed into a shop window. The remaining six Flyeyes were returned to the engineering unit housed in an old, abandoned barn.

  These were only labor pains however, and the Flyeyes mortality problems would, in time, become only a memory. The problems with their implementation however didn't end there.

  "There goes one of your Flyeyes," Naan said to Heneg. The tiny device had just buzzed past the restaurant window where they sat. The flight problems had been resolved less than a year earlier. Naan was taking a short vacation from his duties on Mampas.

  "This place is starting to remind me more and more of Mampas," he said looking in the direction the Flyeye had disappeared.

  "Yes, they are wonderful toys," said Heneg dismissively, "but I'm not sure we actually need them here."

  "What do you mean?"

  "They’re expensive."

  "If they were toys they would be expensive but they are not toys," said Naan. He gave Heneg a sneaky look and added, "They can be very effective if you know how to use them."

  "We’ve been using them for almost a year now," said Heneg with satisfaction. "It was a massive effort to eliminate all of their malfunctions but we’ve finally done it. The police forces in most of the cities are testing them but their operational cost is too expensive. The maintenance of a single Flyeye costs as much as three policemen’s salaries."

  A smile appeared on Naan's face.

  "That’s because you are using them to replace policeman. That math is easy to do because you know how much a policeman costs. How much would they be worth if you used them to get information no policeman in the world can acquire?"

  "What information? What are you talking about?" wondered Heneg.

  Naan smiled again.

  "The police force is barely worth paying here," continued Heneg. "You say that Naan reminds you of Mampas, but Naan is not Mampas, and it never will be. Naanites are not Mampasians. The worst crime we had all of last year was someone trying to steal from one of the stores. Even then the thief was apparently brainless."

  "There are brainless criminals also in Mampas, and flesh and blood policeman take care of them."

  Heneg furrowed his brow. "What do you mean by that?"

  Naan sighed as if he was being forced to explain something obvious. "They send the Flyeyes into the desert in Mampas," he said.

  "I know that, but as you might have noticed we don't have a desert here."

  Naan nodded. "They follow the rebels. With a cybernetic model they can identify different people simply from observing how they walk. A mask or a quick change of clothes in a nearby hideout is not enough to hide from them." He gazed through the window and continued. "They study their body structure, the way they walk, things that no policeman can do. Do you understand what I mean?"

  Heneg moved uncomfortably in his chair and studied Naan's eyes as he looked through the window. "Not exactly. As I told you Mampas’ problems are not our problems."

  Naan raised his eyebrows and waited to see if he would finally understand.

  "You don't mean…"

  Naan nodded.

  "You want me to send them after the potato dealers from the Chosen? You know that the crime rate there is so small that the policemen there are un-armed?"

  Naan nodded again. "T
he Chosen," he mumbled to himself. "Today they are so primitive that they can't harm a fly. Today they spawn children and sell potatoes, but what about tomorrow?"

  "What about tomorrow?" returned Heneg.

  "I don't know but I worry. Do you know?"

  Heneg didn't answer. He looked at Naan, then at the people passing by in the street. Naan studied him for a moment and said, "But maybe you're right. I don't know the details as well as you."

  Heneg gazed at Naan who, apparently, was looking at the traffic in street. Heneg adored his cousin, and this sudden change in his attitude made him uncomfortable.

  "Do you remember that program for new surfing education?" he asked.

  Naan smiled. "Of course, dad's plan. We studied it in school. Why are you bringing that up now?"

  "Information scrambling is one of the ways to gain illegal information, and this is what Flyeyes could do if they flew over the Chosen."

  "Okay, if you insist," said Naan.

  "Besides that dad would never agree to send any Flyeyes over there. He's very cautious in his dealings with them," said Heneg remembering his uncle Sosi.

  "Yes, of course. There is that," said Naan sounding disappointed.

  They were silent for a few seconds. Finally Heneg said, "Are you really afraid that their children are tomorrow's rebels?"

  "I don't know. Maybe you're right, maybe the chances are low."

  A waitress with a smile on her face walked towards them and asked if they needed anything else. Naan ignored her and Heneg gave her a sign that they were done.

  "I didn't expect you to be so worried about them," said Heneg when the waitress walked away.

  Naan looked at him and shrugged his shoulders. "I am not an expert like you. I work hard every day fostering our relationship with Mampas. It’s all so boring, but I’ve learned not to disparage anything. I don't know if they are dangerous or not, but it will be on your head if something that threatens the future of Naan goes unnoticed right under your nose."

  A long, fancy car stopped outside the window and Naan stood up. "Okay, I have to go," he said and tapped on Heneg's shoulder. "Don't take my ramblings too seriously. My perspective is probably warped by the things I see in Mampas."

  Heneg remained seated and watched as Naan climbed into his fancy car and disappeared. Exactly so, he thought, you don't know the details and you are no expert. It would be ridiculous to suspect those weirdoes, and a feeling of emptiness suddenly filled him.

  Naan believed that Heneg was an expert at his duties about as much as he believed that a chicken could fly. Like a chicken, Heneg had all the tools, but he simply couldn’t do the job. Naan had been manipulating Heneg using reverse psychology since they were children. He knew that Heneg adored him, and that his words would lead Heneg to exactly the opposite conclusion they implied. Everything he’d said was specifically targeted to bend Heneg to his will, to make Heneg doubt himself and to wonder if he was really such an expert.

  Naan's words had an effect on Heneg. He felt empty after his brother was gone. He’d never felt he was an expert at anything, let alone a Flyeye expert. He also never gave a thought to the chosen. The place was out of his jurisdiction. No he reconsidered. What if Naan were right? What if the things he had said really were flashes of brilliance? Brilliance he’d never known he possessed?

  It wasn’t long before three Flyeyes were continually hovering high above the City of the Chosen, sent there by Naan's subtle inspiration. They watched and they waited, searching for clues that something terrible was taking place there. The task excited Heneg, even though he had no idea what he was looking for.

  Thirty years had passed since the Plaser brothers had sneaked into the shuttle that brought them to Naan. There had been years of crisis and success partly due to the Doctor’s hidden maneuvering. Naan had been gradually transformed from an abandoned periphery planet into the most significant planet in the region, next to Mampas. The City of the Chosen had grown as well. Its houses stretched from the creek where Sosi had built his first crude shelter until it was as large as Naan City. The Chosen’s natural food products were staples on the tables of the most capable people in Mampas. Some of their shipments had even made their way to Seragon and Paraday. The Doctor’s bionic heart thumped rapidly when he heard about the first shipment to Paraday, but he kept this joy to himself.

  Raban stood behind his promise and developed new ways to broaden the distribution of the City of the Chosen’s products. "This is my foreign policy," he used to tell himself in moments of crisis or when he thought of their rival, The City of Naan, or of his cousin of the same name. His endless vigor led to the development of countless products and many new markets. The income of the City of the Chosen grew. So did the balance of their accounts as they steadily prepared for the hard times that would surely come.

  Raban studied at the University of Mampas. He specialized in chemistry, and botany. He did his internship in the land of the Chosen. It took time to convince his teachers that the possibilities for new discoveries on Naan were greater. They relented only after Raban showed them the special crops he’d grown there.

  His teachers were not wealthy, but they knew about the products of the City of the Chosen from what they found on the network. Their astonishment at the samples he brought from Naan was so great that they asked him to chair a new department in the University based around this new field of study. Raban promised to consider the offer, but it was only out of politeness. He waited a few days then turned it down. He explained to his teachers that his parents were expecting him to return. That he was expected to take the lead in developing the industry of the City of the Chosen, which was true.

  His stay in Mampas was not easy for Sosi and Su-Thor. They knew he needed to be there in order to get the education he so badly wanted, but they were afraid. They worried about his exposure to Mampas culture. Sosi had recurring nightmares that Raban had returned to tell them that he’d found his mate and planned to settle in Mampas.

  Sosi had explained to Raban that when he was in Mampas there was a whole world outside of the network that he needed to be watching as well. "Know your enemy," he used to tell him before he returned to Mampas after visiting. Raban accepted his father's warning, but he didn't really think he was in any danger in Mampas. He knew his father's biggest fear was that the Desertians would hurt him once they knew who his parents were. But there were very few Desertians in the university, and the ones he met didn't care about his history. Outside of the university he was not only anonymous, but thanks to his mother, he looked like the Desertians themselves.

  Raban was twenty-five years old when the natural products from the City of the Chosen achieved a quality that no one else could imitate. Their products arrived on remote planets with a sticker certifying them as the chosen's product. Their customers began to believe the sticker referred to the products themselves and that buying them conferred “chosen” status on them. One of the advertisements Raban liked the most compared vegetables from the chosen to those of a competitor. When the actors in a commercial brought the vegetables to room temperature, the videos showed a lovely girl shaking those of the competitor under running water as if she was trying to bring them back to life, but they only shriveled and wilted. The vegetables from the Chosen, which were frozen in unique ways, looked as if they were just picked from the field as soon as they’d been thawed.

  My father made a habit of taking a trip into the wilderness once a month just before a dark night. He claimed that these trips recharged like nothing else. He used to tell everyone that he chose dark nights so he could see the stars. My mother thought he simply didn't want to see Mampas over his head.

  Over the years she began to insist that he allow someone to accompany him on these trips. My mother couldn’t stand the fact that he was all by himself out in the mountains. She imagined all sorts of different horrors that might befall him, ending with him tumbling into an abyss.

  "Despite what you seem to think, you're not so young anymor
e," she used to tell him. My father would call her a rebel and explain that being alone was the whole point, but she wouldn’t give up. Many times she would throw back at him that she didn't want to be left alone. If that was not enough she would threaten to tell Musan, the chief of the police, where he’d gone. Musan was one of my father's first followers, and would not hesitate to send the whole police force after him, so this threat usually ended the discussion.

  Friends and neighbors would take part in this rotation, and I also joined him from time to time. He took me to his favorite places, showing me how beautiful Naan was and how lucky we were to live here. I think he still worried I would leave for Mampas.

  Despite sleeping under the skies, I liked joining him, and the trips were a refreshing escape from my work. My father would tell me stories of his days as an information scrambling outlaw on Seragon, or how he and his brothers’ had escaped from Seragon and their adventures during their first days here on Naan. One of my favorites was the story of how he met my mother and how she’d captured him. At first these stories gave me goose bumps but later on they only made me smile. I was happy to hear them again. I loved to see how they revived his spirits.

  I was on one of these trips with him when it happened. We’d spent the whole day climbing the mountain. Our neighbor's horse walked behind us carrying two bags of gear on his back. We arrived at a flat area close to the top of the mountain late in the afternoon. My father had camped here many times before and the place was dotted with many tent pegs. One corner was covered with soot and was dedicated for lighting fire. For years my father had carried one big bag with all of the equipment he needed, but the bag became heavier over time and he had finally consented to bringing along the horse. This also allowed him to bring along better food, thick mattress, and even pillows.