RABAN (The Rabanian Book 2)

by Dan Haronian

  In retrospect the accidental meeting I’d had with him at the airport had probably not been so accidental. His pleasant words had tricked me into thinking that he had changed. It had all been a show. Decoration, as my father would say. On the surface he was the Naan that everyone wanted, but within he was another Naan; vengeful, vindictive and plotting. What about Daio? What about the others? Were they part of the decoration too?

  I had no doubt that he’d invested plenty of time in this. His profit from my death, as he’d planned it, was much more than simply killing me. He had tainted me with shame. Not only that, but he had tainted everything I had ever touched as well: my project, my family, even the chosen. By making everyone believe that the son of Sosi and Su-Thor the Desertian had joined the rebels to fight Mampas my cousin had ensured that no one would forgive us. Not Naan and not Mampas. The chosen's economy would deteriorate, and in the end the chosen would be no more.

  I knew they thought I was a rebel after overhearing the nurses talking. One of them said that no family members of the residents of the base had identified my face from pictures they’d sent them. After what I’d been through I doubt my mother would've been able to identify me. Another nurse said that if I ever spoke right again then maybe my accent could reveal the area I’d come from. I was still hardly speaking at all. It was more than my stuttering. Most of the time I was almost completely drugged.

  In spite of their Desertian accents I could easily understand the conversations around me. A major part of my education had happened on Mampas and I knew the language and its different accents well. At first I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to hide my Naanite accent, but my stutter and faint speech completely obscured my words. The shape of my body also did not reveal anything. Although I looked like my father, there were enough similarities in my build that I could pass for Desertian.

  Two months after I was brought there, I was brought before a committee to determine my fitness and decide if I could be dismissed from the hospital and returned to my duties. They brought me to a corridor in the hospital that had bars and a small door at its end. This corridor, I learned, connected the hospital with the rebels' world. The separation was required because sometimes non-rebels were treated in the hospital. A guard sat on the other side of the door. After he verified my identity, he opened the door and ordered me into room number six. I walked along the corridor, knocked on the door, and entered. Three people sat beyond a long table facing the door. They were packed into the small room one next to the other, as if they were referees on some committee. Two small terminals were in front of the people on either end. All three of them looked me over carefully as soon as I entered the room.

  "Come in please," said the man in the center.

  I approached the desk and sat down in the only chair on my side.

  "I am the work organizer," said the man in the center. "My job here is to check your qualifications."

  I nodded.

  "I understand you don't remember who you are."

  I nodded.

  He looked at the screen to his left and then looked at me again. "I understand your stutter hasn’t gone away yet."

  I shook my head again.

  "Do you remember where you come from? Do you remember anything about your family?"

  I shook my head.

  He leaned back and looks at me. "How is it possible that no family member has identified you?"

  "I d-d-don-n-n't k-k-k-k-know," I said.

  "Your face is twisted, but not that badly."

  "Ma-ma-maybe I'm a-a-a-an o-o-o-orphan," I said thinking about my father and mother, tears rose in my eyes.

  He nodded. "We have files on the background of every person who was stationed at base 33. There were no orphans."

  I shook my head. "Ma-ma-maybe I-I-I-I-I'm not th-th-that l-l-l-loved."

  "I don't think so," he said smiling. "Would you tell us what you remember of the attack?" he said leaning back.

  I swallowed. "I wo-wo-worked at the b-b-b-b-base."

  "You worked at the base," he said. "And what did you do there?"

  I shook my head. "I d-d-d-d-don't re-re-re-remember."

  The man to his right whispered something in his ear and he nodded and looked at me. "You were a scrambler," he said. "You were one of a new team that was being formed there. Do you remember anything about that?"

  A shiver went through my body, but I nodded.

  "The team was annihilated along with the rest of the base. You were the only one that survived from the group."

  I swallowed.

  "You are now a valuable commodity," he said.

  I shook my head excited. "I d-d-d-d-don't re-re-re-member a-a-a-a-anything."

  "You are still in shock," he said. "Sometimes it takes a month or two sometimes a year. It is very rare for someone to stay this way for life." He looked at me silently before adding, "How do you feel?"

  "I-I-I'am fine," I said.

  "Maybe we will position you as a controller. It doesn't require much effort and it will give you some time to recover. Maybe things will come back to you. Or maybe you'll suddenly be missed by someone."

  "Co-co-controller?"

  "Yes, controller. You know someone that watches over the network and makes sure people don't do stupid things," he said smiling.

  "I do-do-don't t-t-t-t-think I'll be u-u-u-u-useful."

  "Don't worry. You won't be alone. Other people will be with you."

  "Do you know anything about the shuttle that landed there?" asked the man to his left.

  My thoughts evaporated. "The-the-the sh-sh-sh-shuttle?"

  "You weren't there, right?" He asked and I felt completely confused.

  "I-I-I was d-d-d-down."

  "Because everyone else that survived the attack, the other six, they were in the shuttle when the attack started. Are you sure you were below?"

  I swallowed. I didn't know what to think. They were asking if I was in the shuttle but they also seemed sure that I was one of the scramblers there. Somehow this didn't make sense. "S-s-s-scram-b-b-b-bler,” I said confused.

  "Are you okay?" asked the man in the middle. I guess he could see the confusion on my face.

  All that I’d suffered flashed through my mind in an instant. I remembered going down in the elevator shaft, the scary fall, touring the base, and being dragged around by people. I remembered the bombing, the darkness, the sparks, the long climb out, and the fire that came from above and burned my face. I remembered seeing my father's symbol on the shuttle. I wanted to tell them everything, but my mouth was blocked. I tried to fight the tears in my eyes, and when I closed them for a moment they ran onto my cheeks and burned my face. They were still burning my face.

  "I suggest we stop here," said the man.

  "I w-w-was be-be-below," I suddenly said. "The-the-the a-a-a-air c-c-c-came from ab-ab-above." I used my hands to explain. "Th-th-there was a-a-another ex-ex-explosion. I f-f-flew. I got lo-lo-loose. I c-c-c-crawled to the w-w-wind."

  I lifted my hands up to demonstrate what was in my mind and show them everything that I couldn't express with my lips.

  The man in the middle held up his hands in a calming motion, but I didn't stop. I wanted them to realize that I’d been down in that hellish darkness and that I would never forget my horrifying experience there. But I was also on the shuttle. I built it. I arrived there with it, kidnapped by my scum of a cousin.

  "Outside I-I-I c-c-c-c-crawled away from the d-d-d-destruction. The f-f-f-fire ca-ca-came d-d-d-down. I s-s-s-saw it," I said and breathed heavily as if it was happening to me all over again.

  The man in the middle stood up. "I understand," he said. "I understand everything."

  I stopped. And he sat down. All three of them looked at me for a few seconds.

  "Let's wait for a while," he said. "Let's see how you do in a week or so before we make a decision."

  He looked to the man on his right. The man stood up and walked with me all the way to the guard station. The nurse was already wait
ing for me.

  "I think the facts are clear," said Naan when he called to update the Daio. "They tried to attack us through Mampas. There is no doubt about it."

  "There's a big doubt," said Daio. "Raban wasn't stupid. Even if he wanted to scramble information and damage Mampas it would make more sense for him to do it in their more sophisticated way."

  "I'm looking at the facts. I don't get into people's minds, what they think and how smart they are. And besides we all agree that whatever their plan was it failed, so don't look for logic in that failure."

  "If the plan wasn't logical then maybe it was not their plan," said Daio.

  "Let me give you a scenario, and you tell me how ridiculous it is," said Naan. "Mampas was to be the shuttle's first stop. It was to visit a few other planets in the area for a voyage that was to last a minimum of several months. Let's assume that Raban joined this trip, but instead of joining the whole voyage, he sneaks off on Mampas and stays at this rebel base while the shuttle continues its damn voyage and teaches them how to scramble and how to make trouble for our friends in Mampas. A few months later, when the shuttle comes back, he sneaks back aboard when it again stops in Mampas, as if nothing has happened, and he returns to Naan. What you think about that? Why is it such an unrealistic scenario?"

  "Because he wasn't supposed to leave Naan at all, and besides, if he did get off the shuttle in Mampas when he was supposed to still be aboard don't you think people would notice? People in the other places the shuttle visited would be looking for him. He could not simply disappear for a few months without speaking to anyone."

  "How do you know he was not supposed to leave? And what would stop him from scrambling information so that everyone thinks he is still on the shuttle while it is cruising between planets?"

  "I don't know about information scrambling, but I do know that everyone knew he was not to leave Naan. He had endless meetings scheduled for the day after the launch."

  "Meetings? This is your proof? You need to stop listening to what people from the City of the Chosen are telling you."

  "Sosi would never lie to me, and I believe every word he says."

  "How can you believe what the worst scrambler in the galaxy says?"

  "Because he saved Naan. He has the right to as much respect as I have in enabling Naan to become what it is today. Plus he would never do anything to hurt us," said Daio angrily. "And his most terrible act of information scrambling was the one that saved us all!"

  "You're allowing your feelings to cloud your judgment and your analysis. I know he is your brother, but he's also my uncle, and though it hurts me to think that he and his son are involved in something so despicable, I can’t allow that to make me ignore the facts."

  "The scenario you described is crazy speculation. We would need to dig much deeper before rushing to conclusions."

  Naan sighed. "I agree. But that is only true for us. Mampas is pressing hard. They want to know what, in the name of all plagues, happened here, and we cannot afford to delay the conclusions for too long."

  "Let me handle Mampas," said Daio.

  "Please," said Naan trying to keep his voice calm. Mampas was his, and his father's words were like a knife straight to the heart. "Regardless of what Mampas thinks, we cannot let this incident pass without taking action. I'm saying this for your own good."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I think we should freeze all trade with the City of the Chosen. If they intended to use this shuttle to hurt us then we should hurt them in the same way."

  "You don't even know the City of the Chosen is involved. Your ridiculous speculations are related only to Raban."

  "Raban did not act alone. Do you really think that if we invest more time and effort into an investigation we will discover they're the saints they want everyone to believe them to be? Raban was killed on Mampas, in the name of all plagues, at a base that housed a whole team of scramblers. How exactly could he possibly be innocent?"

  Daio sighed. "Maybe he was what you think he was, but you cannot extrapolate his guilt into a plot involving the entire City of the Chosen."

  "Maybe not. But it doesn't matter if they were really involved. He was their best and brightest, there is little doubt that there are others following the same path. We must act against them now. I'm not saying we should starve them or anything similarly violent, but I think we have an opportunity and a duty to unify the nation and stop their nonsense. We need to put an end to this shuttle program and stop the study of their ridiculous riddle books. We need to unify Naan's economy, and to unify the education of our people around globally accepted values. This is your chance and if you miss it Naan will never forgive you."

  Naan left his father to ponder the conversation. Daio sat in his office and thought about what Naan had said. He wasn't worried about the dramatic end of the discussion, although there was something in it. The facts were clear. No matter what really happened on Mampas, Raban could not be completely innocent. If so, then it's really made no difference if Sosi or anyone else in the Chosen was an accomplice to this. If Raban was involved in such a horrible act it must somehow have come from the education and the philosophy he gained from studying the Books. Naan was also right that this was an opportunity to unify the nation. Daio had wanted this for many years. He was willing to pay heavily to achieve this although he had never intended to implement such a system by force. It will be hard on Sosi and Su-Thor, but Naan’s future was more important than even their happiness.

  I’d seen the old man in the dining hall several times. I noticed him because the white beard that covered his face reminded me of my father. Our eyes met several times, but I simply thought that he was like the others and was staring at me because of my peeling skin on my face. When he disappeared after few days I completely forgot about him.

  Two week later I met with the committee again in room six. I was worried about this meeting because I knew the question of my identity would come up and I'd find it hard to explain why no one was looking for me. But this time they didn't ask me and the meeting was very short. They decided to station me as a controller in one of their bases. Until then I was to help the crew in the hospital.

  Over time my spirits slowly began to rise. Since no one knew my name, or my family, the doctors and the nurses called me The Fortunate son. They didn't speak with me much. I guess my stutter made it hard for them. Sometimes I still got stuck, which embarrassed the people around me. Everyone, even my fellow patients, communicated with me as little as possible. I’d gotten so used to this silent treatment that I was greatly surprised when the old man with the white beard suddenly appeared in front of my table at the dining hall.

  "Hello," he said.

  I raised my head. "H-h-hello," I said.

  "Can I join you?"

  "Ahhh, yes p-p-please," I said, sneaking glimpses around me. There were many vacant tables.

  "I surprised you didn’t I?" said the old man.

  "Y-y-yes, but I no-no-normally s-s-stutter."

  He smiled and sat down. "You're one of the survivors."

  I nodded. The attack was long ago but the incident still lived in the rebels’ minds and any of them would have understood the connotation. "I s-s-saw you o-o-once he-he-here. You came b-b-back."

  "Yes," said the old man and stared at me. "Do you know who I am?" he asked. He sounded worried.

  "No," I said, surprised by the change in his tone.

  His expression changed and he became more comfortable. He smiled and said, "It was a hard blow. The whole base was destroyed."

  I nodded. Wrinkles appeared on his forehead. "How did you survive?"

  I shrugged my shoulders. "I was lu-lu-lucky."

  "This is why they call you the Fortunate son,"

  I nodded.

  "Hmmm," he said and pulled his beard. "Yes, no doubt." He shook his head, while I stared silently at the soup in my bowl. "Is the soup good?"

  I nodded and he stood up slowly. "I think I'll go and get some," he said and wal
ked towards a large pot at the end of the food counter. I watched him as his slow steps carried him away. I thought he must be lonely. Lonely people don't even mind speaking with mutes. They can do all the talking. All they require is an occasional nod. He came back after a few moments and I forced a smile.

  "It smells delicious," he said as he sat down. He rotated his bowl on the table several times as if it was some kind of the ceremony, and after wiping the spoon with a napkin he tasted the soup. "That's great."

  "W-w-what brings you h-h-here?" I asked.

  "Routine checkup." He said and sipped the soup. "Your story is very interesting." He looked at me. "I hope I'm not offending you. You don't have to tell me anything. Just sitting in front of you is enough. I see it all on your face."

  "I d-d-don't have mu-much to tell. I haven't d-d-done anything, and to be ho-ho-honest I r-r-really do-don't w-w-want to talk ab-b-b-bout it."

  "Yes, of course," said the old man. He sipped twice from the soup and said, "Did you hear about that shuttle that landed in the desert? It was something truly unique. I saw it in Naan's newsfeed. All those halls of frozen produce to export all over the system were a wonder."

  "The sh-sh-shuttle?"

  "The shuttle that landed at Base 33. Its story sounded very odd to me, but the reports were quite reliable. They say that it had some kind of unique freezing method. What do you think about that?"

  He probably saw the shock on my face but he just looked at me and sipped his soup.

  "Nobody could figure out what it was doing here," he continued. "In news on Naan they say that someone came with it to scramble information." He chuckled. "I think it's ridiculous. Who would be stupid enough to fly such a beast into the desert in order to sneak into a secret base?" he said in a doubtful tone and sipped his soup.