by Yossi Soika
The hours passed at a slow irritating pace as if time was infinite, and I sank in despair, but right then, to my great surprise, I heard the sound of footsteps echoing not far from me.
“Hurry, come to my room,” I yelled with all my might. “This is wonderful! Someone has come to the house!” I responded. “Who’s there?” I continued in a high-pitched tone. “Please somebody help me!” and indeed in a short while three figures emerged – I identified them effortlessly as the servants. “Hurry! Free me from my ropes!” Weren’t they earlier than expected? Was something new happening here? “Please hurry!” I called impatiently upon seeing their bewildered stance.
“Distinguished sir, we are shocked and confused,” but then they awoke from their shock and quickly untied my ropes. “Honorable sir, only a few minutes ago we saw you entering the palace and now you are sitting here bound in a chair – this is very embarrassing.”
I must not tell them the truth – it may confuse them, and may even cause me trouble.
“It’s difficult for me to tell you what happened here. I will tell you when I get a chance, and please be discreet about it. I’m very grateful for your help! Please keep my home tidy and now I’m in a great hurry.” I concluded and I rushed to the palace at a crazy speed. I arrived there panting heavily and ran up the palace stairs. When I reached the Queen’s Court, I excitedly called out, “Please make way for me, I have to get to the queen! She is in a great danger; I must warn her!”
“We are sorry. There is no entry into the Queen’s Court. We have an order from the queen not to let anyone into the palace for exactly one week.”
“That’s awful! It’s impossible,” I yelled angrily. “I’m the ‘queen’s jester and I was given permission to enter at all times. I must see her. It’s an emergency.”
“No entry to the citizens of the City of Dreams for a whole week by the queen’s order,” the Queen’s Guard repeated, not budging an inch. They stood there at attention with their lances crossed.
Perhaps Melanie and the crazy scientist have already left the palace and are on their way to the Outer World now? I must get to the city gate… soon the city guards are going to change shifts…and I must find out if Melanie left town accompanied by the madman; and if so, I’m in a deep trouble.
“I must see the minister who is in charge of official ceremonies!” I demanded from the guards.
“All citizens are allowed to see the Minister of Ceremonies!”
“Great! With your permission I’ll see him now.” I concluded and was led to his bureau on the third floor, attended by the guards. Upon my arrival, the door to his office was opened and I entered in distress. As I entered the door I noticed the expression of amazement on the minister’s face. After I entered the room, he rose from his seat, examined me lengthily and sank back down into his seat.
“My honorable sir, how is it possible that you, sir, are standing in my office? I just accompanied you sir and the queen out of the city, to the Field of the Weeping Stones. It was exactly an hour ago. Has something happened to the queen?”
“You are wrong, minister. The man you accompanied was not me but the acclaimed scientist, Markusha ben-Shusha.”
“Ohh!!!” a terrible yell erupted from the Minister of Ceremonies’ mouth. “Markusha ben-Shusha has fooled me? That’s unbelievable! This deception seems incomprehensible and outlandish, and I’m inclined to say that I feel choked-up to hear such terrible news. I just don’t understand it, it’s making me dizzy. Listen, my friend, the jester, is there any type of trickery behind this, or is it a mischievous joke? If this is the case I will pull out your tongue in the blink of an eye.”
“Let it be so,” I hurried to reply.
“I don’t know what to say. Never in my life have I seen such a thing. You, sir, claim that your image was cloned by the odd scientist; but who are you, Court Jester, and how did you suddenly grow so big?”
I told him concisely the story of my miserable meeting with Markusha ben-Shusha, and how his servants rescued me from imprisonment.
“How could it not have occurred to me? As a matter of fact, I have not heard from him for many months. But I know only one thing – the people of the city owe him a lot. Markusha ben-Shusha built this city and also many other wonderful things. I have to get an explanation about the duplicating of your image. It is indeed very strange; this incident does not seem to make any sense,” and the minister repeated the last words again and again, as if he couldn’t believe his ears.
“I’m aware of the fact that he can easily switch between the worlds.”
“If this is so, it’s incomprehensible to me. Sir, the queen’s jester, I’m aware of your relationship with the queen, but we will discuss this matter another time. Now we have a common task. We must stop Markusha ben-Shusha. He might harm our queen. Now let’s trace his footsteps. Shortly a platoon of soldiers will arrive here and will track him and the queen. First of all, we must go to the Field of the Weeping Stones, and from there we will start to look for her footprints.”
“Field of the Weeping Stones?” I asked curiously.
“Haven’t you heard of it?”
“No,” I replied shortly. “I have never heard about it. Let’s set off. The queen of this city is in danger. We can continue our conversation after we leave the city gates.”
For hours on end we made our way in great haste among forest trees and wilderness until we arrived at a field with huge curious-looking stones in the shape of human heads.
“What is this terrible thing and what is the purpose of this mess of scattered stone heads here?”
“This is the Field of Weeping Stones; they are not stone heads they are human heads which were removed shortly after death. They went through a singular process of resurrection as part of an experiment in genetic engineering conducted by the Ten Tribes’ scientists. They succeeded in quite a short time to create a new substance that they radiated into human heads just after their death. The Ten Tribes’ scientists so honored the new substance that they claimed it could be used to replace not only a man’s heart but also his head. And in this way, my fine friend, many heads started to pile up, stored in refrigerated rooms ready and waiting for an accident to happen or a lethal disease to call for a head transplant. And for many-many years the scientists of the Ten Tribes succeeded to replace the heads of injured people.”
“That’s incredible!” I exclaimed in astonishment. “It’s unbelievable! So the scientists of the Ten Tribes have reached immensely high levels of complex and delicate surgeries.”
“It’s true. Head transplants are not very common. It’s the highest level of extensive know-how.”
“ Minister of Ceremonies – you are in charge of ceremonies, so how is it that you exhibit such a vast knowledge of advanced medicine?”
“Well, indeed I’m the Minister of Ceremonies, but I am also a Son of the Ten Tribes.”
“Really? So what are you doing in the City of Dreams?”
He broke into chuckle and said, “My story is long and boring; but I can tell you that the scientist, Markusha ben-Shusha, is also a Son of the Ten Tribes, and from time to time he visits here, the Third World, and helps greatly in amending wrongdoings that were made against the Third World. I really appreciate his contribution to the Third World, and this is why I’m following his footsteps right now. I was sent here in the first place as a penalty for something terrible I did as a scientist, and I was sentenced to a hundred years of service in the Third World.”
“A hundred years of service! That is a terribly severe penalty,” I said with great emotion.
“It’s not so bad. In thirty years my penalty will be over. Actually, although it’s not mild, I prefer to serve this society of wretched creatures than to be sentenced as is customary in your world’s stupid jailhouses. Prisons are an example of the backwardness of man. Prisons corrupt the human soul instead of rebuilding and
rehabilitating it.
“So, if the Ten Tribes’ scientists were successful in replacing human heads, how do you explain all these heads stuck here in this field, and why are they made of stone?” I asked.
“Well, after their great success in replacing human heads, many people started demanding to have their heads replaced after their death. However the pressure on the scientists grew when every member of the Ten Tribes wanted to see their heads preserved after their death. In a few years huge quantities of heads were amassed and no one knew what to do with them. Meanwhile, medical advancements went from strong to stronger; diseases became rarer, and the same with accidents; so eventually after holding long, bitter debates the sages of the Ten Tribes decided to stop head transplanting in the Land of the Ten Tribes and to dispose of all the heads in some remote location.”
“Why didn’t they just bury them?” I asked naively. “Why are they still left here on the ground?”
“The scientists of the Ten Tribes ruled out the option of burying the heads of half-living people.”
“Half-living?!” I exclaimed in horror. “Do you mean to say, sir, that these heads are still alive?”
“Yes and no,” he replied with an eerie smile. “My learned friend, these are not normal heads – they have undergone a process of bombardment and radiation with primordial waves, and we can witness the result of living human heads encased with preservatives inside a stone-like rigid wrap. These heads are going to live for many long years. Every now and then you may hear the heartbreaking sound of their weeping and wailing. Every creature of the Third World respects this terrible place. And for now you must excuse me, sir, we must be on our way. We must find Melanie the Queen of the City.”
Hastily we bypassed the field with the head-crops and turned to a wide open field. Suddenly I heard wailing coming from the field behind us. I turned back and noticed a human head opening his mouth and crying in a terrifying voice: Ouch! And a large tear rolled down its cheek.
For long time we followed Melanie and Markusha ben-Shusha without finding anything. They had disappeared as if the ground had swallowed them up. I stopped for a moment and felt as if my heart had missed a beat.
“Let’s go,” the Minister of Ceremonies called. “We must catch up with them, my friend, the queen’s jester.” He smiled and added, “I must return soon. In thirty minutes from now the platoon of soldiers will return to its elements, the Cosmozom liquid. If I fail to march them back at the appointed time, the whole squadron will turn to dust.”
I warmly shook his hand and thanked him for his timely help.
“I must look for Melanie and my double. If I fail, I’ll have to spend the rest of my life in this wretched place.”
“I’m really sorry if I let you down,” said the minister, and he added, “I wish you luck on your mission. Please remember that you have a place of honor in the City of Dreams. Please remember that I haven’t yet heard your story to the end. I shall await your return at the end of your mission. Good luck.”
I shook his hand again, thanked him for his valuable help, and turned back to the trail leading to a grove on the distant horizon.
King of the City of Sodom
I paced very swiftly along the trail leading to the grove, pondering over the question of whether I was following Melanie or walking in the wrong direction. After hiking in haste for a long time I realized that my stomach had started to rumble from hunger. But despite these signals of its difficult situation, I did not hurry to fill it. I must be careful! The memory of the inedible fruits here was still fresh in my mind and also how I failed to differentiate the edible from the inedible ones; however, soon I found a banana plantation laden with big, good-looking bunches of bananas that grew along the banks of a stream. Before long I found myself standing in the heart of the plantation, munching the tasty fruits greedily. After finishing the first banana I noticed an impressive stone wall that emerged from the top of a small hill nearby, as well as a large plot of well-tended vegetables in front of the wall.
“Great!” I called out joyfully; vegetables are my favorite. With no delay I went down to the field and I realized with merriment that I was standing in the midst of a carrot field. I pulled out three carrots; they all looked well-grown and good to me. I cleaned them with the stream water, and immediately nibbled at them with great pleasure.
I wonder what’s behind this wall? My curiosity piqued. Does any danger await me there or maybe something new and enchanting? A strong gut feeling spurred me, find Melanie; don’t search for new adventures. You should wait no longer! But who is living behind these high stone walls and what are they hiding from? I stealthily walked away, as quietly as a cat, until I arrived at a wide wooden gate with metal sheets on it. It seemed as if primitive people dwelled in the place, I inferred that from the poor wooden gate and stone wall. The deep silence that prevailed there made me believe that the place was deserted. Not the sound of a human voice or a rustle was heard in the surroundings, not even the faintest one. Suddenly I heard a faint creak, a little portal was opened, and many eyes peeped through it. The heavy silence faded away all at once, and a thunder burst out of it. A bustling uproar of many people talking unanimously was heard clearly from behind the wall when the wooden gates opened slowly. For one moment I froze without knowing where to go and what to do – should I run away? I was still deliberating my options when a crowd of men, women, and children started to surround me. In their paralyzed look I sensed signs of deep sadness. Their attire was also odd-looking, they wore white robes that covered them from head to toe, with leather sandals tied with thin straps around their shins.
I was overwhelmed instantaneously with the much-beloved biblical drawings from my childhood that came to mind.
“Does anybody here speak my language?” I asked aloud but all I was met with was total silence. I repeated my question but again no answer. Suddenly I saw a big crowd of people marching straight toward me.
They were armed with long spears and long curved swords girded their waists. Should I run away? No it is too late, and anyway where would I run?
Behind the group of armed people I noticed a grand sedan chair carried by eight porters who marched at a quick pace and called on the crowd to make way. The group of guards marched swiftly toward me and arrayed on both my right and left waiting for the sedan chair porters to arrive. As soon as the latter reached me they stopped nearby and waited motionlessly; then I saw how the sedan’s curtain was drawn sideways and an old, dignified-looking man examined me at length.
“Come here, please,” I heard him say. I approached him hesitantly. He looked at me and then lowered his voice and asked, “Are you a son of the Ten Tribes?”
“No sir, I’m not. I’m a son of the Upper World, a visitor in the Land of the Ten Tribes.”
“Really? How nice – to see a Son of the Upper World,” he said repeatedly. Then he added, “I’m the King of Sodom and Gomorrah.”
“What do you mean by saying such a strange thing? Every child who ever learned the Bible knows that Sodom and Gomorrah were destroyed thousands of years ago and no trace of them was left behind.”
“That’s not exactly true,” said the man, smiling from ear to ear. “Like many other things you’ve never heard of. You, my young friend are going to be the first one to hear our well-kept secret. Sir, Son of the Upper World, please be my honored guest and tell me the story of your life and what befell the Upper World since the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah.”
“Yes, Your Majesty, your request is fascinating, but you should know that I would need a long time to tell you the history of world since the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah.”
“Young friend, take all the time that you need. Please lift and seat the man of the Upper World next to me,” exclaimed the king.
Two tall, bearded soldiers took me by the waist and lifted me easily upon the sedan next to the king and then hurried back to the city
.
Upon my arrival I noticed many dozens of harnessed men-donkeys carrying primitive wooden plows and accompanied by the town’s farmers as they plodded toward the miniature plots. Is it a city or a big village? I wondered at the sight of the clusters of wooden huts and thatched roofs, with only a few stone houses scattered among them; however the largest house of all was the king’s palace, which rose to a height of five floors, and was built with large well-hewn stones. At the entrance stood about ten guards armed with swords and lances. At the sight of the approaching entourage they rushed forth to open the palace doors and stood at strained attention, clutching their lances to their chests. The interior of the palace diverted from the highly elegant palaces of the Ancient World. In fact, it looked utterly pitiable, its floor covered only with straw mats with nice decorative bolsters scattered over them. A few wooden and stone tables and chairs stood in different corners and some jars were placed on top of the tables.
“Drink, young man. There are some jugs with cold water and others next to them, with wine.”
After I crouched down on the floor of the hall, two servants arrived from a hall nearby, and rushed to support the king who slowly lowered himself down to sit on a blue wool rug.
“Refreshments for our guest,” the king ordered. And the two hurried out of the hall to comply with the king’s will. Plates full of varied foods, unfamiliar to me, were swiftly piled in front of me.
“Eat, please,” the king said. “It’s better to talk with a belly full of food than to munch on a carrot,” the king said and chuckled. Then he waited patiently until I ate my fill, and asked, “Is my honored guest full and satisfied?”