A Twofold Tale

There’s a blood-red sky this morning at Al Madinat Aladwa on Al’bassita, and a 7-yard-long black armored luxury limousine with tinted windows is speeding away from the city at 140 mph along the coastal road, its twin-turbo V12 engine pushing all of the 523-horsepower needed to thrust over 5-and-a-half tons at top speed. In front of the limo is an escort of police motorbikes, and behind is another limo with 3 bodyguards. Settled in one of the plush leather seats, a plump bald 65-year-old man in a grey bespoke suit, white shirt, and red silk tie, has his usual breakfast; a glass of 12-year-old single malt scotch and a top-notch cigar. While it’s his way of getting off to a good start, it gives him little pleasure today. He’s been plotting all night; thinking of all the different ways he could deal with the situation and eliminating many. “It would be so easy just to kill the bastard!” he thinks, “But that wouldn’t solve the problem, he’d become a martyr.”

When the cortege arrives at Yasser Tabet’s Coastal Villa, the security guard opens the gate without asking for ID. He calls the villa to announce the arrival of Nizam Mahfoud, Minister of the Interior, Information, and Communication Technologies. The police escort stays outside the gate, and the two limos drive up to the entryway. The bodyguards get out of their car and surround the door of the armored limo. When the minister steps out they take their positions, one on each side, slightly ahead, and one behind. Nizam is still smoking his cigar as he climbs the stairs to the front door.

Mounir Jafari, Yasser’s majordomo, greets him as he opens the door. Mounir’s a good ten years older than Nizam, but still in tip-top shape, with a full head of grey hair and a neatly trimmed beard. He’s dressed in a traditional butler’s uniform, and two gold medals are pinned on his immaculate black morning coat, one with a lion brandishing a sword and the other with a pentagram. A half century earlier he had won the Order of the Throne and the Order of Military Merit medals for having saved the king from an attempted assassination. He was only 22 the time, and his father had been the king’s majordomo. He became the new king’s majordomo like his father when the king died. He came to work for Yasser Tabet as a choice, preferring to get away from the royal palace. “Al Salam Alaykoum Si Nizam” he greets him with cold politeness.

“Alaykoum Salam Si Mounir.”

“If you will extinguish your cigar, please Mr. Mahfoud, house rules.” Mounir motions to a polished brass ashtray on a stand just outside the front door. Nizam grunts something incomprehensible under his breath and stamps his cigar out. “Please, come this way.” The majordomo beckons to enter. The bodyguards are shown to the grand salon next to the entryway to wait.

Yasser receives Nizam in his study, where he usually works, only going to his office at the Ministry of Culture when it’s absolutely necessary. They exchange the typical salutation coldly. Neither is sincere about wishing God’s peace on the other, it’s only traditional politeness. Mounir brings atay, pours it for them and disappears. Not a particularly joyful soul even on his best days, Nizam is exceptionally grouchy this morning. “Ms. Tahiri doesn’t need to be here, what I have to say doesn’t concern her.” he barks.

“Kabira can stay, I need her to keep notes. She can be trusted.” Yasser doesn’t like the man he’s forced to deal with and thinks that keeping his PA with them will take some of the unpleasantness out of the encounter. While her name would seem to indicate that she’s “big”, in fact, she’s rather small physically, her bigness is all in her heart.

Nizam raises his voice “I said she goes! You won’t need any notes for this meeting.”

Kabira Tahiri is embarrassed by the situation “It’s fine Mr. Tabet.” Because of where Nizam is standing, she has to come close to him to go out the door, and he slaps her derrière as she passes. She glares at him but says nothing, retreating quickly.

Yasser is also glaring. He can’t stand disrespect in any form. “What’s up? Must be urgent for you to come here.”

“Aziz Elbaz. It was bad enough that he was arrested at the protest the night before last. If I’d have known what he had up his sleeve for his concert last night I wouldn’t have helped you and gotten him out of jail. I’d have let him rot in prison. Last night he went too far.”

“What do you mean? I’ve seen his concerts, and his songs are all just popular love songs and the like.”

“Don’t play innocent. Last night’s concert wasn’t anything like the private concerts I know he’s given for you, right here in this villa. I’m sure you heard about the way he stirred up the crowd. I was about to have him arrested this morning for inciting treason and terrorism, but I changed my mind. He’s already a symbol, and if we arrest him, it will only make it worse for us. There are other ways to take care of him. Now I know what I’m going to do, but I’ll need your help.”

Yasser’s mind is pondering. Nizam has the power to make anyone in the country disappear or be falsely accused of some horrible crime and sent to prison for life, with witnesses. He has no choice but to cooperate. In fact, he’s been caught by surprise, because he really is unaware of what happened at the concert. He had no reason to suspect anything would happen. Aziz wasn’t one to get into politics. It had already been a coup de theatre to see him arrested for being involved in the protest. “Of course, Si Nizam. You can count on me. If Aziz did incite terrorism, we have to handle it. We don’t want treason now, do we? Tell me more about the concert, I didn’t follow it.”

“Minister of Culture, and you didn’t follow your friend Aziz Elbaz’s concert?”

“That’s right. I don’t honestly know what he did that was so terrible to be called treason.”

Nizam is fuming. His ears are scarlet, and his eyes are thunderbolts. He pulls out his telephone and opens up a video taken by one of his undercover agents. He thrusts it towards Yasser to watch. It’s the speech, followed by “We Gotta Move”. Yasser watches calmly while Nizam impatiently paces up and down the length of the office. Yasser is dumbfounded “If I didn’t see it myself, I’d never believe this was Aziz. He seems like someone completely different. Still, I have to agree with him. I don’t like this new law. But I mustn’t let on or Nizam will have my ass.”. The last words of the song belt Yasser in the gut “They say the calm comes after the storm. Storm clouds are gatherin’. We won’t take it no more. It’s gonna rain hard before the sun comes shinin’ through” and as the video finishes, Yasser mutters two words. “I see.”

“You see alright! Now you see why he’s got to be stopped! I’ll keep you informed about your role. Of course, not a word of this to anyone.”

As soon as the cortege has left Yasser’s villa Kabira comes back into the office. Nizam’s glass of atay hasn’t been touched. “What was that all about? He was acting like a rabid dog!”

Disregarding Nizam’s parting words, he tells Kabira everything. She’s more than a PA, she’s his closest confident, and he’s in a jam. Kabira was at the concert, she wouldn’t have missed it for anything, and they agree on one thing; Aziz wasn’t acting like usual.

“Don’t worry Si Yasser, we’ll find a way out of this jam. Insha Allah” She says it but doesn’t believe it. Yasser can’t see beyond her smile; he’s blind to her terrified heart.

“Insha Allah.”

“I’m not feeling too well Si Yasser. Can I take the day off?”

“Of course, my dear. I’ll call you if I need you.”

In another villa, Ali’s just waking up and feeling wonderful, when he gets a message on his phone.

“Scheherazade?”

She rolls over to face him in bed. “Yes Ali?”

“I have a message from Kabira Tahiri, I remember her face from the concert. Who is she?”

“You know Yasser Tabet, who came with me to pick you up from the police? She’s his PA. She’s also one of our best friends and one of Aziz’s biggest fans.”

“She says she has to talk to me urgently, or Aziz that is. In private.”

“It can wait ’til after breakfast. Yousef the chauffeur knows the way to her house.”

“How far is it?”

“About an hour’s drive.”

Ali texts Kabira back to say that he’ll be there in a couple of hours.

After a late breakfast Scheherazade brings Ali a full-length black leather trench coat. “It looks like it’s gonna rain hard today, like in your song. This coat’s special though.” She shows him a hidden inner pocket and pulls out the mushrooms she’s put there. “Aziz usually carries a stash of cash with him, but this is a stash of Psilocybe mairei mushrooms. I split what I have left with you, and Fatima Zahra did the same with Ali. You know what the situation’s like on your planet, it’s dangerous now for both of them. If you get a ringing in your ears, it’s Ali signaling to you. You should take about this much. It’ll take about 30 minutes to connect because the shrooms aren’t fresh.”

“How do I know that it’s him and not just my ears ringing?”

“Don’t worry, you’ll know. It’s not like anything you’ve ever heard before. See you later.”

“Later.”

Kabira’s been pacing up and down her apartment for almost two hours, her legs sore from staying on her feet. During this time the clouds have gotten progressively darker, and now the wind is howling, heavy showers are plummeting down, the thunder’s growling, and flashes of lighting pierce the darkened sky outside her window. “What’s keeping him? Why isn’t he here yet?” Her phone rings.

“Aziz, it’s really urgent! I’m not kidding! Where are you?”

“There was an accident on the highway from hydroplaning. There’s a pile-up.”

“You’re not hurt, are you?”

“No, don’t worry, but we’re in a jam. Yousef’s driving. Sit tight, We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

“Alright, I was worried that something might have happened to you.”

“Like what?”

“That’s what I have to talk to you about, but I can’t say anything over the phone.”

Ali can hear her nervousness. “Try to relax. Everything will be alright, Insha Allah.”

An hour later the car finally pulls up to her house. “Like usual?” asks Yousef.

“Sorry?” Ali doesn’t have a clue what he means. The bewilderment shows in his face.

“Do you want me to come back when you call me, like usual?”

“Yes, please. Thank you, Si Yousef. May God’s good fortune be with you.”

Kabira’s waiting, framed by the open door, the wind is whipping the rain, and she’s dripping wet in just the few minutes it takes for him to get to the doorstep. As soon as the door is closed her arms are around Ali’s neck and she’s covering his face with kisses.

“Aziz, Aziz, I’m so afraid! I love you so!”

He sees a coatrack in the entryway and leaves his trench coat on it. She leads him straight to the bedroom, slips out of her wet dress, and climbs in bed. He strips and gets into bed with her, following her obvious lead.

“Hold me close.” Her voice trembles. Her face is on his chest for comfort.

“Now, tell me what this is all about.”

“It’s Nizam Mahfoud, he came to Yasser’s villa this morning. He’s livid. One of his men was at the concert last night and took a video. He wants to destroy you, and you know how powerful he is. What’s come over you anyway, my love? It’s not like you to go around causing trouble and putting yourself in danger! I couldn’t stand it if anything were to happen to you.”

“Did he say how he wanted to go about doing away with me?”

“Yes, in fact, he confided a part of his plan to Yasser, and he’s ordered him to cooperate. Because he controls the media, Mahfoud is planning a smear campaign to start with. He doesn’t want to make you into a martyr, so he wants to ruin your reputation before making you disappear for good.”

Ali’s mind is racing. His cards aren’t too bad because he knows a lot about Mafoud. Aziz would have been in a much worse situation because he knows almost nothing about any of the politicians. Aziz is only used to entertaining them and has never gotten into politics. There’s at least one great advantage to his playing the part of Aziz, and that’s Aziz’s good relations with all of the upper class, including his close friend Yasser Tabet. “I’ve got the upper hand for now, and I won’t lose it, Insha Allah.” He affirms confidently to himself. He speaks soothingly to Kabira, “Try not to worry. Nizam Mahfoud is powerful, but we will win in the end.”

“I’ve never heard you speak like this, my love, but I’ll put all my trust in you, you won’t let us down. May God help us.”

They make love and Kabira notices the difference, her lover has changed. He’s become virile, vigorous, and self-assertive almost overnight. She feels safe in his arms as they lie together.

Ali showers before returning to the villa. Scheherazade questions him as soon as he walks in, “What was so urgent that Kabira had to see you right away?” There’s a tint of jealousy in her voice.

“It’s Nizam Mahfoud, he’s planning to take me down with a smear campaign before making me disappear. He’s up in arms because of my rallying the people against him at the concert last night.”

“How did Kabira find out?”

“Nizam came to Yasser’s villa this morning in a rage. He kicked Kabira out before confiding his plan, but Yasser told her everything; maybe not everything, we can’t be sure about that, but we know enough to get ahead of his game. Remember, I did a lot of research and wrote a book about him on Al’ard. Most of it is probably true here in your world. He doesn’t think I know anything about him, and he thinks he’ll take me by surprise. We have a double advantage. I just hope that Yasser and Kabira don’t get eliminated for having talked. We’ll have to be careful to make it look like we don’t know his plans. I’ve always loved strategy games, but this is much more exciting; it’s real! We have the whole country’s future in our hands! May God help us to defeat the oppressors. I thought that we’d have it easy here compared to Aziz and Fatima Zahra in my world, but it seems that we have just as much danger as they do.”

“There’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about. You and Fatima Zahra took it for granted that Aziz and I were protesting. We weren’t. We just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Aziz has never been into politics. He’s always been on good terms with all the people in high places.”

“Well, now he’s part of the fight. And in fact, it’s another advantage for us now, because I can use his good relations to influence people. I’m confident that we’ll win.”

“But you know how much power Mahfoud wields. That scares me.”

“That’s what Kabira said, and this is what I say; ‘It’s gonna rain hard before the sun comes shinin’ through.’ We have a battle to fight and it’s no time to falter.”

After another intense spree with Scheherazade, is woken in the middle of the night by a ringing in his ears.

“Scheherazade, it’s Aziz, he’s calling!”

A half hour later they’re connected. Scheherazade stays awake next to Ali until dawn as the two brothers discuss everything that’s happened. Then he relates everything to Scheherazade and she, in turn contacts Fatima Zahra and gives her a full update. Ali’s mind is already pondering plans, and he can hardly sleep.