The Alchemists of Kush

by Minister Faust

  ALSO BY MINISTER FAUST

  NOVELS

  Shrinking the Heroes (originally published as From the Notebooks of Doctor Brain)

  The Coyote Kings, Book One: Space-Age Bachelor Pad

  SHORT STORY COLLECTIONS

  A Bad Bad Beat Was Brewing

  Journey to Mecha

  E-Force: Sixteen Stories of Ultra-Freaking Awesomeness

  POETRY

  The Marrow of the Pharaoh

  NONFICTION

  What If Psychopaths Ran the World?

  Unshattering the Planet

  Post-Racial? Riiight!

  The Cure for Death by Small-Talk

  FORTHCOMING

  War and Mir (Fall 2011)

  1989 (Winter 2012)

  The Disharmony of the Sphere (Spring 2012)

  THE ALCHEMISTS OF KUSH

  Copyright © 2011 Minister Faust.

  Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to events or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

  Requests for permission should be emailed to ministerfaust@cjsr.com.

  Narmer’s Palette Books

  Edmonton, Alberta

  Cover painting on first print edition and electronic edition by Stephen Brown.

  Cover photograph on one electronic edition by Chaka Zinyemba.

  Jacket and interior design by Gentle Robot.

  Print ISBN: 978-0-9869024-2-0

  Amazon-Kindle ISBN: 978-0-9869024-0-6

  Global Electronic Release: 978-0-9869024-0-6

  Version 2: 2011 June 29

  First Narmer’s Palette Books Edition: June 2011

  I dedicate this novel

  to four community organisers

  of diverse skills and singular spirit

  who’ve spent decades of commitment,

  integrity, intelligence and compassion

  building social justice

  in E-Town and elsewhere:

  Laurence Frederick

  Junetta Jamerson

  Jennifer Kelly

  and

  Henry Carlo Service

  Two Sudanese “Lost Boys.”

  Both fathers murdered during civil war.

  Both mothers forced into exile through lands

  where the only law was violence.

  To survive,

  they became ruthless loners and child soldiers,

  before finding mystic mentors

  who transformed them

  to create their destinies.

  One, known to the streets

  as the Supreme Raptor

  The other, known to the Greeks

  as Horus, son of Osiris

  Separated by seven thousand years,

  and connected by immortal truth.

  Both born in fire

  Both baptised in blood

  Both brutalised by the wicked

  Both elevated by mystic madmen

  Both sworn to transform the world

  And themselves

  By the power. . .

  of Alchemy

  THE ALCHEMISTS OF KUSH

  by

  Minister Faust

  Inspired by a true story

  www.ministerfaust.com

  PRAISE FOR

  THE ALCHEMISTS OF KUSH

  “It was only a matter of time before the hip hop culture would invade the literary world. With The Alchemists of Kush, Minister Faust is leading the invasion. His novel is possibly the first hip hop epic. Hip hop has a short attention span on most occasions. The Alchemists of Kush gives it gravitas.”

  —Ishmael Reed

  Author of Mumbo Jumbo and Juice!

  “Minister Faust’s first two books broke new ground in the SF field. His latest, The Alchemists of Kush, not only breaks new ground; with the story-telling skills of a modern jali, the Minister creates new vistas of history, mythology, erudition, uplift, tragedy, triumph, and contemporary community activism. Once you start the first page of this book, you won't be able to put it down until you’ve finished the last one.”

  —Charles R. Saunders

  Author of Imaro and Dossouye

  “I started The Alchemists of Kush and kept reading until I finished. Minister Faust has the most electrifying and true voice I've read in years. The Alchemists of Kush is brilliant.”

  —Sparkle Hayter

  Author of What's A Girl Gotta Do? and Naked Brunch

  “I loved the story, the mythology, and the characters. I found myself locked into it for hours at a time and couldn't put it down. Rich in detail . . . A great book.”

  —Kenneth T. Williams

  Playwright of Thunderstick and Three Little Birds

  “A hell of a story. A hell of a book. A hell of a style. A frenetic novel and voice—very enjoyable. Minister Faust knows how to write about male relationships, brotherhoods, and getting into the hearts of men, and about boys turning into men. The Alchemists of Kush is a triumph, not just for Minister Faust, but for Edmonton and the community of Kush.”

  —Wayne Arthurson

  Author of Final Season and Fall from Grace

  “Inspired by a true story and set against an urban backdrop of African immigrant communities in present day Edmonton, Minister Faust weaves a masterful tale around the sacred Book of the Golden Falcon, ten Hermetical scrolls that expound upon the cross pollination of cultural themes and social considerations shared by Original People throughout the African Diaspora.

  “The Alchemists of Kush is more than a story; it’s a philosophical elixir of Kemetic (Egyptian) folklore, African traditions, urban Sufism, hip hop culture, and Five Percenter pedagogy designed to transmute the challenges of colonialism, assimilation, juvenile delinquency, and moral decay into a universal solvent. Through an array of colourful characters facing unique struggles towards advancing a common cause, Minister Faust boldly takes his readers on an alchemical journey of Self Knowledge, Self Determination, and Community Action, a transformative terrain of true & living ‘gold’!”

  —Saladin Quanaah Allah

  Blogger, Allah School in Atlantis (ASIA)

  Author of Tales of an Urban Sufi and MC on Brothers from Another Planet

  “The Alchemists of Kush is both a powerful and vital contribution to Canadian literature that looks at contemporary Edmonton from an African-Canadian perspective. The characters in Minister Faust’s novel reflect the true diversity of African-Canadians living in Edmonton. Hopefully this is the beginning of more great novels from people in Edmonton that look like us that tell stories about us.”

  —Arlo Maverick of Politic Live

  MC and Producer on Adaptation and Market Share

  “The Alchemists of Kush is its own kind of alchemy: ancient past, gritty present, mythic fantasy, social activism, it’s how Minister Faust blends it all that gives the book its rare power. Reflecting the brilliance of his earlier novels, Minister Faust again strikes the perfect balance between eloquence and entertainment.

  “Within the first twenty pages, I could (and did) imagine The Alchemists of Kush on the big screen. It’s got that epic sweep to it. More importantly, I kept reading (and reading, and reading) because Minister Faust knows it’s all about creating characters you’ll love. I wept at the end.”

  —Mark Kozub

  Author of The Uptown Browns, A Calgary Album

  Founding father of the Raving Poets

  “Minister Faust presents a fierce piece of fiction i
n a way that only he can. I was entertained, educated and fascinated with his alchemy. The Alchemists of Kush has to be one of the best books I've read this year.”

  —Milton John Davis

  Author of Meji, co-editor of Griots: A Sword and Soul Anthology

  “Minister Faust’s The Alchemists of Kush is an inspiration—bringing voice to an area of E-town and a diverse cultural community that are too easily overshadowed by crime stories. Minister Faust also creates a mythic metastory that runs parallel to the authentic characters and vivid settings, balancing the abstract with the heart-wrenchingly specific. No one will fail to be moved by the struggles of the divine, but it’s the recognition of the heroism in the mundane that will change the world.”

  —Mari Sasano

  Freelance Writer

  “In The Alchemists of Kush, Minister Faust risks telling stories that threaten the empire-builders, that encourage us all to become agents of action. Such a novel demands a truthful response. I’ve been thinking we need prayers for right now. Advertising jingles and gangsta rhymes split our souls, jangle our spirits a thousand times a day. Minister Faust is a technician of the sacred, getting the geometry, the dance of our humanity into his words. Buy The Alchemists of Kush for yourself and a friend. Read it and then give it away. Give it away a lot."

  —Andrea Hairston

  Author of Redwood and Wildfire and Mindscape

  Contents

  Delta

  ONE

  Resurrection Then

  Resurrection Now

  TWO

  Revolution Then

  Revolution Now

  THREE

  Triumph Then

  Triumph Now

  Emeralds and Maidens at the Millstone

  FOUR

  Ancestor~I Then

  Ancestor~I Now

  FIVE

  Father~Brother~Son Then

  Father~Brother~Son Now

  SIX

  Mother~Sister~Daughter Then

  Mother~Sister~Daughter Now

  SEVEN

  Replace~Elevate Then

  Replace~Elevate Now

  Assault on the Golden Fortress

  EIGHT

  Righteousness & Mastery Then

  Righteousness & Mastery Now

  NINE

  Create~Supreme Then

  Create~Supreme Now

  ZERO

  Peace~Life~Eternal Then

  Peace~Life~Eternal Now

  Appendices

  The Book of the Golden Falcon

  First Ãrit

  Second Ãrit

  Third Ãrit

  Fourth Ãrit

  Fifth Ãrit

  Sixth Ãrit

  Seventh Ãrit

  Eighth Ãrit

  Ninth Ãrit

  Tenth Ãrit

  Falconic Glossary

  Sources for Further Reading

  The Music of The Alchemists of Kush

  Praise for The Alchemists of Kush

  Praise for Shrinking the Heroes

  Praise for The Coyote Kings, Book One

  About the Author

  Minister Faust Gear

  Author’s Note

  The Alchemists of Kush is composed of three stories. Each one is ten chapters long: “The Book of Then,” “The Book of Now,” and “The Book of the Golden Falcon.”

  Certainly, feel free to read the novel in the path it’s printed (Chapter 1: “Then” + “Now,” all the way to Chapter 10: “Then” + “Now,” followed by all ten chapters of “The Book of the Golden Falcon”).

  But you could also read all the “Then”s as a group, followed by all the “Now”s together, ending with “The Book of the Golden Falcon” . . . or read the first chapters of every “Falcon,” “Then” and “Now,” all the way through to each one’s tenth chapter.

  Whichever path you choose, I’d be delighted to hear from you about how your order affected the way you experienced the stories and their characters.

  Nub, wmet, ãnkh,

  Minister Faust

  Delta

  One:

  Resurrection

  The Book of Then

  1.

  You’re asking me . . . the earliest thing I remember?

  Haven’t I told you this story before? Many times?

  Where are your brothers?

  No, no, son, I’ll tell you. Of course.

  Sit down here with me. Water? No? There are ripe dates and bananas in the basket, there.

  Isn’t this a beautiful sunset? And the river . . . it looks as soft as skin.

  The first thing I remember . . . .

  Waking up to our entire camp on fire.

  ****

  Smoke-hands, choking me by the throat. And the flames so bright in the darkness I could barely see what was happening.

  But I could hear it all: our men howling and fighting and dying, being butchered like goats.

  Then I saw . . . enemy soldiers knocking them to the ground, kneeling on their backs, grabbing them by their hair and slitting their throats—just like that, all in one motion—and then they were thrashing in the sand, like crabs boiling in pots. And then they just stopped moving.

  “Mum!” I screamed. “Mum!”

  Some of our other men, I saw them running, and then they’d go down, arrows through their knees, or through their throats.

  They didn’t even have the chance to howl. They just choked and gurgled and tried to drag themselves for help and died before they got any.

  “Duam!”

  Duam, our strongest soldier, the tallest in the ranks. I saw him clutching his gashed-open belly, failing to keep in all his guts slithering out like white eels.

  Maybe he didn’t hear me, but he didn’t even look at me. He was staggering, tilting, then lurching into a tree to keep from falling, but suddenly flame swept up the trunk. It cooked half his face.

  Even to this day, whenever I smell a campfire, the stench of Duam as burning meat stabs fingers up my nostrils. If I’m tired or my defenses are down when I smell smoke, I have to fight not to vomit.

  I don’t remember if I was screaming. I must’ve been—I wasn’t even ten yet. But I don’t remember it. What I remember is that suddenly all the other kids in our camp were.

  Then Shai—he was the second-oldest kid after me—was yanking on my arm.

  “Who are they?” he kept saying. He was crying, shaking, clawing my arm enough to hurt it. Snot slimed all over his lip, glistening back to me from the fence of flame.

  Who was attacking us? Were they even human? The cliffs on the west bank of the Holy River were infested by devils—

  I screeched again for my mum, I don’t know for how long. But she didn’t come.

  I couldn’t see any of the women. And all the men were running, pouring blood or dead.

  I turned, saw scream-faced kids, heard the raiders yelling to get us, kill us all us, except—

  They were running towards me with nets.

  My heart pounded in my chest so hard I could feel my ribs shaking, but my head gonged with the only words-of-power my mum’d taught me.

  “Everybody!” I shouted, readying the words in my mind. “Run to the river! Now!”

  When the kids ran past me, I touched their heads or backs, spoke the words my mother gave, and each kid transformed into shadow.

  When the last one was racing out of the burning grove, slipping past the raiders like smoke, I rushed along to find them at the eastern bank.

  But our feet were still stamping footprints in the sand—

  “All of you—quiet! Stop crying right now! We’ve got to wade to that island there without making a sound! All you bigger kids, hang onto the smaller ones! I mean it—stop that crying or they’re going to kill us!”

  They followed my orders.

  When we got to the island we slipped up the beach through the palm trees over to the rocks, and then inside a cave. A bunch of rabbits bolted when they heard us and smelled us, but even they couldn’t see us, because we we
re still shadows.

  2.

  Eventually, after they stopped crying, almost all the kids fell asleep nestled together like a pile of puppies. I kept guard with Shai until dawn, when the cave’s bats came home like a black sandstorm.

  Shai and I had to throw our bodies over the kids to keep them from seeing and running and screaming.

  But when sunrise came, I could tell it still wasn’t safe. I told everyone we had to wait.

  So we waited two more days. We drank water dripping off the cave’s walls. But we didn’t have anything to eat at all.

  3.

  On the third morning, everyone was so hungry, even me, that I thought we didn’t have any choice. It was either take our chances outside the cave, or die there from starvation. And the other kids were terrified of the bats.

  We walked out together. And in all that shining sun, none of us could remain as shadows.