A Twofold Tale

All over in the news, there are beautiful pictures of Kabira in her green and gold caftan, with Scheherazade and Aziz Elbaz celebrating at Yasser Tabet’s villa the night before, but there’s nothing mentioned anywhere about the rape and murder. Because Mafoud controls the media, if the scheme would have rolled out as planned, it would have been widely diffused, through all channels, and the whole world would’ve known that Aziz Elbaz had raped and murdered a teen-age girl. Since there were witnesses to Aziz’s innocence and also to the attempt to frame him, Mahfoud has silenced the whole incident.

In his office, Nizam Mahfoud, in his usual menacing way, snarls at the man he had hired to rape the girl, “What the hell did you do last night! You completely blew it, you dimwit! You were supposed to wait until Aziz Elbaz had already come to the room before raping her! We could have bound and gagged him and made him watch the show. If you had any brains in that thick scull of yours, you’d have made sure he was covered with her blood before anyone saw him. As it is, he got off scotch free because he couldn’t have been in the room when it happened!” The Minister of the Interior turns to the policemen, “Get him out of my sight! Make him disappear!” When Mahfoud gives the order to make someone disappear, it’s literal. No one will ever see or hear of the criminal again. Alone now, Mahfoud reflects on the situation. He can’t accuse Yasser of not cooperating. It was he who came up with the plan and had Aziz come there to fall in the trap. It was only the blundering of his incapable bruiser that made the whole scheme fall apart. Back to square one. ’I’ll get that seditious punk yet!’ he swears to himself.

Lying in bed, back at their own villa, Scheherazade, Kabira, and Ali are all still shaken by the events. They’d like to contact Fatima Zahra and Aziz, but there are no more mushrooms. Ali had spoken with Aziz and gotten his green light to marry Kabira in his place, and the couples on both planets are up to date on everything that’s happened up until now. Aziz and Kabira are already legally married, although they haven’t had a ceremony or celebration. As far as the public’s concerned, they’re engaged. Because the law punishes out-of-marriage sex with prison, they played it safe by marrying lawfully before Kabira moved into the villa. It would have been a weakness that could have been exploited by Mahfoud had Kabira came to live under the same roof without having been married. He has agents everywhere and would certainly have known that they were breaking the law.

Now Ali is sandwiched in bed between Aziz’s two wives, Scheherazade on his right, and Kabira on his left, their heads resting on both sides of his chest. Even if they’re all shook up, they feel safe where they are for the moment. The villa has the best and most modern security systems that money can buy. Ali’s saying to himself ’This is great! I have four women, two for my mind, and two for my body!’ He comes to a sudden realization. He looks Scheherazade in the eyes and whispers “There’s a secret I think it’s time we let Kabira in on.” Kabira sits up in bed with a questioning look.

Scheherazade answers, “Yes, it’s time she know about our twins.” It’s noon by the time they’ve related the whole story between the two of them, filling Kabira in on all of the secret resistance operations on both planets.

“So, if I get this right, we may never have Aziz back with us.”

“Only God knows what the future holds.” Scheherazade replies calmly.

“But one thing’s certain, it’s gonna rain hard before the sun comes shinin’ through.” Ali sings the last line of the song. As he speaks, he gets a message from Asra ’Mission accomplished. Meet me at the library at 2pm. Congratulations! Bring your women with you.”

In Dr. Hanadi’s office, Ali sits on the three-seater sofa, Scheherazade on his right and Kabira on his left. Asra sits opposite them on the chair. Ali feels awkward, because of the three women, the only one he really loves is across from him and doesn’t have the faintest idea that there could be something between them. They make salutations and introductions, Asra congratulates Kabira, and then tells them about her mission.

“You were right about everything Si Aziz. I don’t know where you got your information, but it looks like Mahfoud is planning to eliminate all opposition to his authority. Living under a monarchy is one thing but living under a dictatorship is another. On top of that, the dictator isn’t even the ruler. Many people have understood that Mafoud already has all the power; the king doesn’t make any decisions anymore. Anyway, I was able to take photos of the plans for the drones and the political prison. It seems that both are being built now. I believe we have enough information to undermine their plans, God willing.”

Ali questions her, “Is there an indication of the location of the prison?”

“Yes, and it’s not far from Barakat Shajarat Alzaytun, an oasis where my people have camped for centuries. The chief of our tribe, Mass Anazar Ait Tamdoult, knows the area well. That’s a definite advantage for us.”

“So, you’ve contacted your people?”

“No, I haven’t had the opportunity yet. I thought perhaps we could go and visit them together.”

“Good idea. And the drones, do we know where they’re being made?”

“Not here in the country. From the purchase orders they’re made in Al Naqab. It doesn’t surprise me; their country is very advanced technologically. They use the same drones against our brothers in their own country. Since we have the plans, we should be able to find some tech-wizzes that can help us devise a way to counteract.”

“Yes, I know some people who can help with that. In fact, we need to start organizing a resistance movement, the sooner the better. You can make a list of all the people you think could be a part of it, and we’ll do the same. In fact, Mahfoud is trying to smear me, to stop me from inciting rebellion.”

“Really? I haven’t heard any bad news about you yet.”

“He tried to frame me for the rape and murder of a teenage girl at our engagement party last night, at Yasser Tabet’s villa. His plan backfired though.”

“That’s hideous! You mean that he had a girl raped and murdered just to try to smear you? There wasn’t anything in the news about it!”

Kabira and Scheherazade haven’t said anything since the introductions, and they both voice their fear and horror. Kabira starts to tremble, and Ali puts his arm around her and pulls her near to comfort her and continues, “It’s normal that there’s nothing in the news, because Mahfoud controls the media, but we need to communicate underground. We’ll start an underground news source. I’m sure that you know some good reporters. We have witnesses for what happened last night, the difficulty will be getting people to risk being cited. Everyone fears Mahfoud too much. When can we go to see your tribal chieftain?”

“Impossible to make an appointment. We’ll just have to go and find him. He’ll receive me anytime. I can go as soon as you want to.”

“Great. We’ll leave tomorrow morning. Scheherazade and Kabira will start contacting people to join our resistance group while we’re away in the desert. Asra, you can send us all of the names you suggest before tomorrow, especially reporters.”

It’s over 18 hour’s drive to the Barakat Shajarat Alzaytun oasis, so they decide to do the trip in two days, taking the coastal road for most of the route and sharing the wheel. They take Asra’s cobalt-blue 503-horsepower V8 droptop roadster, and Asra drives first.

Ali’s been waiting for a chance, and when they’re well on the road, he begins to let the cat out of the bag. “You know Asra, I know a lot more about you than you could imagine.”

“Yeah? Have you been checking on me? Did you hire a detective or something?”

“Not at all. But I have an incredible secret to share with you. Before I do, let me tell you a few of the things that I know about you. To start with, your parents died when you were only 13, and Anazar adopted you.”

“Lots of people know that.”

“When you were born, your parents named you Tafrara, which means dawn in your language, but the authorities wouldn’t allow indigenous names as legal names, so they chose Asra, which means nocturnal journey in Arabic.”

“How?... Only my close family knows that!”

“And I know a lot more. Let’s get physical. Everyone can see the mole above your lip, but how many people know that you have another one on the top inner side of your left thigh, very close to your genitalia.”

Asra nearly runs off the road, slamming on the brakes and skidding to a halt on the roadside. She’s staring at Ali in disbelief and wordless.

Undaunted, Ali continues, “What’s more, I’ve kissed that mole before. In another world called Al’ard, where my name isn’t Aziz but Ali Elbaz. Here on Al’bassita Ali Elbaz died, and my twin brother Aziz lived. On the parallel planet Al’ard, where I come from, Aziz died, and I lived.”

“Wait… you come from another planet? And you’re not Aziz? And I’m supposed to believe that we’re lovers on the other planet?”

Ali speaks soothingly, “I know it’s hard to believe. Scheherazade has known about me and Aziz for a long time. She has a twin sister named Fatima Zahra, who’s my wife on Al’ard. They have a similar story; One of them died on each planet and the other lived. Kabira just found out about all this. In fact, this body is Aziz’s body, and only my mind is Ali. Our minds and bodies got switched and we’re stuck in each other’s places for the moment. We can’t get back to our own bodies. And yes, you and I are lovers on my planet. I already knew that you’re a 9th dan Kung-Fu master before you told me a month ago, and many other things. I was just waiting for the right moment to tell you. How could I possibly know about your name Tafrara and your intimate mole if what I’m saying isn’t true? Most of the things on the parallel worlds are the same. Al’ard is about two years ahead of this world. That’s also how I know about the drones and the prison. On my planet they started stunning people with the drones and putting them in prison. I’m not a musician, but an investigative reporter, and I wrote a book about Nizam Mahfoud. At this moment Aziz is in my place fighting the fascists, and you’re a real hero. You even attacked the prison with the help of your tribe and got him and the other prisoners out, except that on the other planet you don’t know that in his mind he’s Aziz. We have two days together just the two of us, it’ll be enough time to tell you everything in detail. I can see that this is a shock, do you want me to take the wheel for a while?”

“Yes, please do.” Asra is struggling to come to terms with this outlandish reality and remains silent while Ali goes back to the beginning and tells the whole story as he drives. They stop for lunch at a fishing village and eat the day’s catch at a small restaurant. Asra feels better and takes the wheel back until they arrive at the midpoint about 9 hours’ drive south of the city. It’s a small seaside town called Afthas, of about 7000 souls. They book separate but side-by-side rooms in a hotel overlooking the beach, “The Ksar Stars”. After an almost speechless candlelight dinner, they take a walk on the beach together, holding hands now but still in quiet contemplation. Asra breaks the silence. “So, should I call you Aziz or Ali?”

“Obviously I prefer Ali, but I’m getting used to being called Aziz. It’s as you like, just don’t call me Ali in public.” He lets out a friendly laugh. “Can I call you Tafrara?”

“I prefer Asra. Mass Anazar and some old friends in the tribe are the only ones who call me Tafrara.”

“I should have known, that’s the way it is in my world.”

“Ali… You don’t love Scheherazade or Kabira then, right? You’re just kind of filling in for your brother Aziz while he’s away.”

“That’s right. I have two loves in my life, my wife Fatima Zahra, and Asra, who’s code name is ‘Night Flight’. I miss them both. It’s hard for me to be so near to you and yet so far from my love Asra at the same time.”

“I think we can remedy that.” Eye to eye, they smile and embrace, joining in a sensual kiss under the summer stars, their hearts and souls meet as the waves are crashing on the beach.

Asra’s room is the larger of the two, so Ali’s bed doesn’t need to be made when they check out. It’s another 9 hours’ drive down to the oasis, going further and further away from the coast as the air gets drier and drier and the temperature climbs.

When they arrive, Asra is greeted by the nomads, but her adopted father isn’t there. A carrier pigeon is sent to his current location with a message. Asra pitches a tent that she brought along in anticipation of having to camp out. They don’t have any trouble picking up a network signal to call Scheherazade, so they let her know that they’ll be away a while longer than expected. A week goes by before Mass Anazar arrives, and they spend it getting to know each other in the ‘5-Billion-Star Hotel’.

On Al’bassita, the fragrance of mint fills the tent as the atay flows down in a meter-long cascade into the small finely decorated glasses, making the tea frothy. Mass Anazar Ait Tamdoult, the supreme chief, clad in a long blue robe and turban, pours it in the traditional way; the teapot held high above the glasses. Asra and Ali are alone with him, as he’s been informed that they’ve come for a private discussion.

“Al Salam Alaykoum Si Aziz, it’s a pleasure to receive such a famous man. Al Salam Alaykoum Tafrara, my dear child, it’s so good to see you. You’ve come very far from Al Madinat Aladwa.”

“Alaykoum Salam Mass Anazar, it’s our pleasure to be here with you and your tribe.”

“Alaykou Salam Mass Anazar, my dear father, it’s so good to see you.”

They sit drinking their atay and making small talk until an appropriate measure of time has passed to allow for serious discussion. The supreme chief commences, “Tell me, what is the nature of your business with us?”

Asra speaks, “You know of the Minister of the Interior, Information, and Communication Technologies, Nizam Mahfoud. We have proof that he’s secretly contriving to turn our country into a fascist regime. Here, (showing him the digital photos) you can see the plans for military drones that will be used against anyone considered a dissident or non-conformist. And here, you can see the plans for a political prison where all the non-conformists will be held. As you can imagine, I would fall into this category as do almost all the intellectuals.”

“All this is very serious indeed, and we’ll be happy to keep you with us for your protection, far from the troubles. However, we don’t get involved with politics unless it directly concerns us, and I’m not sure that your government cares about a few hundred nomads in the desert. I don’t believe that it will change anything for us. As long as they leave us alone, we would prefer not sticking our necks out, you do understand that, don’t you?”

Ali speaks now using his full name and title, “Supreme Chief Mass Anazar Ait Tamdoult, as you probably can imagine, I’m a very wealthy man, and I can make the involvement of your tribe a worthwhile endeavor for you all (Ali knows that they’ve already acted as mercenaries but doesn’t mention the fact). Let me show you a sample of what this means. I’ll be back in a minute. Asra, the car keys please.”

Ali goes to the roadster and gets an inconspicuous black canvas bag from the back of the trunk, where it had been since he left his villa. He carries it into Mass Anazar’s tent and places it before him. It’s a total surprise for Asra, who could never have imagined what was in the bag. He opens it and shows the contents; 100 packets of 10,000 dinars in 100 dinar bills. “Here is a start. 1 million in cash. I’m sure that with this we can see eye to eye.”

Mass Anazar Ait Tamdoult nods his approval. “Yes, my friend, we’ll help your cause.”