NAAN (The Rabanians Book 1)

by Dan Haronian

  I swam to the edge of the pool and gave the container and the stones to one of the researchers who were gazing at me with embarrassment. I then rushed into the cane bushes and got dressed. When I came out the researchers were busy setting up the wireless monitoring system the Doctor had mentioned. He’d explained on the way over that the system would sample the air once every few hours and send the data to the receiver at the university. As I watched them I wondered again why all this hadn’t been done before, then I remembered again that they hadn’t known about this phenomenon till now.

  It was a dark night, eight days after they returned from Sosi’s house on the hill. The lights around the house were lit and the front yard of the house was bathed in pale yellow light. The Doctor parked his car in front of the gate and looked at the house. He’d come to tell them about the results of the samples they’d collected from the water. The report was disappointing. They had nothing to do with the plague and this fact made him feel disturbingly relieved. Sosi’s illness and its possible connection to the plague had made him second-guess his choice of Daio. Two years before Daio had been the only choice, but after Sosi's miraculous return and his marvelous story, the Doctor worried that he might have been mistaken. The negative results were a relief, which was odd, because it also meant that they were no closer to a solution for the plague.

  “I should not feel relief,” he said to himself still watching the house. If the gases had been the source of the plague it would have been a major step toward its eradication. Not only that, it would point to Sosi as the one. The Doctor wondered why that would worry him. Had he grown too loyal to Daio? For two years Daio had done his best for Naan. He really put everything he had into improving the lives of its people. Still he had already waited two hundred years for someone who would make such a major change.

  Confused, he got out of his car. Naan had thrived since Daio started interfering in the lives of its people. There hadn’t been such a change in Naan since the Doctor himself arrived here. He knew he could not ignore this simple fact but was it enough? Was it the change he was waiting for?

  He strapped the box to his waist and walked to the door. It opened before he got there and Moah stood on the doorstep.

  “Hello, sir,” Moah welcomed him. “They are expecting you in the dining room,”

  “Thank you,” said the Doctor. He walked through the hall and turned left into the dining room.

  “Doctor!” called Daio as the little man entered the dining room, “Come, join us.”

  The Doctor pressed a button. “Hello everyone,” he said dryly and walked over to one of the chairs around the dining table.

  “I think you should send Sosi one of your teachers,” said Daio watching the Doctor climb into the chair. It was higher than he was used to.

  The Doctor looked at me. “I suppose I could,” he said. “I have no doubt you will understand the language fast enough.”

  “I am already mumbling a few words,” I said in Naanite.

  Moah hurried to place a plate and silverware in front of the Doctor.

  “Thank you Moah,” he said smiling.

  “I understand that the reports were not encouraging,” I said.

  The Doctor raised his hands helplessly. “The water is identical to the water in our faucets. It contains the same additives only minor changes in concentration.”

  Dug reached into the vegetable bowl and dropped a few slices of carrots and cabbage onto his plate. He passed the bowl to the Doctor.

  “Thank you,” said the Doctor and dropped two slices of carrot and two pearl sized tomatoes onto his plate.

  “It is an interesting geological event, but it has nothing to do with the plague,” said Dug, still chewing. He swallowed before leaning forward, as if he was trying to whisper something. “On the bright side we won't need to explain what the purpose was of your visit to the mountains eight days ago. I think we should let the matter drop.”

  “I am no scientist,” I said, “but is it possible the gas breaks down? That it doesn’t leave any traces we could measure?”

  “If it breaks down up there then why does it still cause so much damage when it arrives here?” asked Dug.

  “Did you ever do a post mortem on any of the victims?” I asked

  “They did, but it was a long time ago,” said the Doctor. “The results are in the university archive.”

  “What about the more recent victims?”

  The Doctor moved uncomfortably in his chair. Daio saw this and was quick to jump in. “That is impossible. Even bringing up such an idea will cause a backlash.”

  “That is not what we need right now,” said Dug. “Let's keep the outrage to a minimum if we can.”

  “You are in charge of the processions this year, right?” asked the Doctor looking at Daio.

  Daio sighed. “Yes. I am meeting with Musan to see if we can make things a little more orderly this year.”

  “Who is Musan?” I asked.

  “The chief of police,” said Daio. “Last year there was chaos on the White Planes. In addition, these processions are very important to the Naanites. I want to score as many political points as possible so that I'll have more pull when I have something to say about more important issues.”

  The Doctor’s telephone rang. He listened carefully for a moment.

  “Check again, maybe it's a malfunction,” he said into the phone. He listened again. “Okay,” he said and hung up.

  “Is everything okay?” asked Daio.

  “The monitoring system we left next to the pool is going crazy. Either there was an eruption or something is wrong with the system.”

  “I was there almost two years and experienced only one eruption,” I said.

  “It’s probably a malfunction,” said Daio.

  “Anyway, they are sending someone out to check on it. I guess we'll know tomorrow.”

  “Actually, we don't really know what is erupting from the water,” I said thinking about the cloud. “We checked the water but not the gas itself.”

  “From your description I would expect the gases to leave their mark on the water. They come from these holes you mentioned. Correct?” asked Dug.

  “I guess so. But none of us here are experts. What if they pass through the water without leaving any trace of something toxic?”

  Dug shook his head. "That doesn't make sense to me."

  "Maybe you are right," I said, "but it could also be something complicated that we cannot understand with simple reasoning."

  We were silent for a few seconds.

  “I’m not even sure the people from the university are capable of handling this kind of thing," I said. "I am no scientist but I would have expected them to spend more time in the field. How is it possible that I ran into this phenomenon accidently when they had never encountered it before? What kind of university is this anyhow?”

  Daio and Dug were both looking at the Doctor. So was I. I don’t know if I was angry about this simple fact, or just angry that this whole discussion was shallow and irrational. Maybe we are not supposed to know what is causing this plague, I thought, maybe it's not up to us to judge what makes sense and what doesn't. Perhaps it’s simply too complex.

  We focused on eating again. The two slices of carrot and the tomatoes remained on the large, white plate in front of the Doctor. He hadn’t touched them. The Doctor looked as if he’d lost his appetite. I thought maybe he’d eaten before he came over, or maybe the things I’d said hurt him. I was making up for his reluctance. It was as if I needed to make up for all of the time I’d gone hungry in the last two years.

  The Doctor showed up again the next afternoon and this time he brought along one of the researchers who’d been with the team at the pool. Moah had already invited them into the living room when I came down from my room. I recognized him immediately. In addition to being short like other Naanites he was a bit squat. I thought about the things I’d said the day before and wondered if he was here to face my hard questions.

>   “Daio is in his study and Dug is out on some errand,” I said after the Doctor activated his device.

  “Leave him be. He is probably busy organizing the processions,” said the Doctor.

  I walked towards them. “This is Kashir Hasis, one of our leading chemists,” said the doctor.

  Kashir nodded and handed me a small sheet of paper with a table and some unintelligible signs printed on it.

  “What is this?” I asked.

  “We went to the valley early this morning and the cloud was still there,” said Kashir.

  “So there was no malfunction,” I said and stared at the chart. “I can't understand what I see here,” I said.

  “These are the gases we found in the cloud and these are their concentrations,” said Kashir pointing to the columns and rows on the table. “A few of these gases are toxic at high concentrations,” he said pointing to some groups of letters.

  I guessed the letters were in Mampasian, since I could already recognize Naanite letters and these were a mystery to me.

  “The Sinners’ plague is not caused by exposure to toxic gases,” continued Kashir. “The plague causes lung edema and infection while these gases, at high enough concentrations will simply choke you.”

  “You found signs of these gases in the water?” I asked.

  “Some of them,” he said gazing at the table.

  I nodded. “And what about those that aren't?”

  He looked at me surprised.

  “Why are there some gases that don't show up in the water?” I explained my question as if I was an expert in these things.

  He shrugged his shoulders, but this movement was almost swallowed by his squat body.

  “Are you asking for a particular reason?” asked the Doctor.

  “No, I am just curious.”

  “Not everything reacts with water,” said Kashir. “Some of the gases may simply sink to the bottom.”

  "But then they won't show up in the cloud that covers the valley," I said.

  Kashir looked at me. “The gasses that attacked you were dangerous,” he said and I felt he was losing his patience. “Maybe they are what made you sick, and maybe it was all was a coincidence. In any event I can’t see how we can conclude they are causing the plague. I simply don't see the connection.”

  “I think Kashir is right,” said the Doctor. “Most probably there is no relation between the two events.”

  Kashir folded the paper. “I need to go back to the university. People are expecting me,” he said without looking at me and stepped towards the hall.

  “Can I have a copy of that,” I said pointing to the paper in his hand.

  He turned around, walked over to me and handed me the paper.

  “Thank you,” I said. He bowed and left.

  “I think he is angry at me,” I said when I heard the door shut.

  “I don't think so,” said the Doctor,” I actually think he has a great appreciation for you. He is young, but even so I think it is hard for him to think the answer was always there under his nose.

  “It's not under our nose, but it's here. On this planet,” I said. “We are simply not looking hard enough.”

  “Maybe.”

  “I keep puzzling over the fact no one knew about these eruptions. This cloud covers the whole valley every time it occurs. How could no one have seen it before? How could your researchers not know about it?”

  “I don't know. In any case, I think it's best you relax now. You had a few hard years. You deserve it.”

  Daio came down the stairs into the living room. “Doctor,” he said.

  The Doctor nodded.

  “How does it look?”

  The Doctor looked at him and twisted his mouth. “There was an eruption, but our analysis shows nothing new. I don't know why we were expecting something immediate. The plague has been here for very long time and no superficial finding or simple analysis will get us anywhere.”

  “I guess there are no short cuts,” said Daio. “Finding a cure will require a long, methodical effort, which unfortunately the people here are not ready for.”

  They heard the front door open.

  “Hey, something new?” asked Dug as he rushed into the house.

  “Not really,” said Daio. “How did it go with the Council?”

  “I told them about the new arrangements you are proposing and about the savings it will lead to. I think they like the idea.”

  “Good, at least that’s something,” said Daio.

  I pulled at my beard. “We need a way to shorten the process,” I said, the thoughts spinning in my head.

  Daio turned from Dug to me. “Shorten the process?”

  “I don't know if the answer is these gases or something else, but if methodical research will take such a long time, we must do something else. Something that will yield fast results.”

  “What are you talking about?” asked the Doctor, worried.

  “We have to skip the research,” I said.

  “Skip the research?” mumbled Daio.

  “We need some shortcut to obtain the information,” I said.

  “And how exactly you are proposing we do this?” asked Dug.

  “Using an information processor,” I said, still not sure about my thoughts.

  “Information processor,” said Daio slow as if trying to digest my meaning. He shrugged his shoulders. “The network is at your disposal. You know, we already have neck sensors and the surfing capabilities here have improved dramatically.”

  “Yes, I know but I have something else in mind,” I said and shook my head. I felt I was leading myself to something I hadn’t thought through. I don't know why, but I felt it was stronger than me.

  They looked at each other. Daio's face looked as if he’d just received bad news.

  “Can you explain what you mean?” asked the Doctor impatiently.

  "I don't know," I mumbled. "It's not so simple."

  "Sosi!" Scolded Daio.

  I walked towards one of the armchairs and sat down. They followed and sat around me.

  “Why do I have a bad feeling that I know what you are about to say?” said Dug.

  “Dug,” said Daio quietly and shook his head while looking at him.

  “He means information scrambling,” said Dug. “I know at least that.”

  I nodded. My plan included scrambling, but scrambling was a marginal issue compared to what else I had in mind.

  “I am not talking about regular processors,” I said. “We won't find any answers there.”

  “So what are you talking about?” asked Daio.

  I sighed. It had been more than two years, local time, since I’d discovered Shor and many things happened since then. I wanted to be sure I remembered all of the details.

  “You probably remember the war between Seragon and the Amanim,” I said trying to remember the details.

  Wrinkles appeared on Daio's forehead. “The war between whom?”

  “Seragon and Aman,” I said. “It was a very bloody conflict until suddenly Seragon won.”

  “Is this a history lesson?” asked Dug.

  “Yes,” I said teasing him, but actually it was exactly that. “Seragon organized their forces using a super-processor that calculated the balance between them and the Amanim at every given moment. They constantly fed this processor with new information; everything from the raw materials available to Aman, to the mood in the streets. This super-processor was able to anticipate the economic, political, and military state of Aman on a minute to minute basis.” I was surprised that I remembered all this.

  “Where are you going with this?” asked Dug impatiently.

  “Seragon scrutinized Aman as if it were a small bug under a microscope. When they found a breach they attacked and won.”

  “I don't remember this story,” said Daio, “but what is your point? Is there a message here? Some instructive lesson?”

  “From what I remember the Amanim simply gave up,” said Dug and looked at Daio hopi
ng this was what he meant.

  ''It was all over quickly. To most it really looked as if they simply gave up,” I said. “But a few people knew the real reason and kept it secret.”

  Dug shook his head and frowned, as if something didn’t sound right to him. “How do you know all that, and what does this have to do with the plague?”

  “When we were still on Seragon, I found this super-processor accidently,” I said and shifted uncomfortably in my seat. “It wasn't simple to get in. Really, I think I just got lucky. You wouldn't believe the things I saw there.”

  “So, you want to use this processor to find a cure for the plague?” asked the Doctor.

  “Maybe," I said and shifted my gaze between them. "If we give it all of the needed information it may be able to determine the most probable cause of the plague and what needs to be done to protect against it.”

  Daio lifted his eyebrows, for the third time in this conversation. “If this processor really exists and it can do all the things you say, why not ask Seragon for help? We probably can’t do it ourselves, but the Doctor could approach them. And besides, what makes you think it can find the answer. The example you gave is very different. We are looking for something the people in Seragon have never heard about. It might even be a genetic disorder.”

  “This processor doesn't exist formally so we can’t just suddenly approach Seragon about it,” I said. “And the example I gave was just an example. I know that this processor has already performed some amazing genetic analyses.”

  “How long have you known about it?” asked Daio, “You can’t have learned about since we’ve been here on Naan.”

  I shook my head. I didn't want to tell them too much, especially not when I’d made my discovery.