The Last Bastion of Ingei- Day 1

by Aammton Alias

  “The land of unexpected treasures… for poachers.” John’s favourite phrase. And yes, he secretly desires to trademark that.

  I am used to John’s witty comments and nod in agreement, as I drives through a set of traffic lights to Nurul’s clinic.

  When we reach the clinic, a lady doctor in a blue blouse and white long pants, clutching her pink handbag, rushes out of the white bungalow clinic. I know for sure that if a government building in this country is a bungalow, it means it was built in either the 1970s or 1980s. Nurul’s face does not show any emotion, her gold polka-dot red scarf only covers part of her head, revealing her dark black silky hair. She callously throws her pink bag into the car, rolls up her sleeves, and then gets inside the back of the car.

  Nurul changes modes, like a lady who has just been implanted with facial muscles, she begins to smile widely. John turns around and passes the last cup of coffee to her, noticing that her blue blouse still has that small stubborn medical stain near the edge of the pocket.

  I catch John staring at her blouse, I doubt it this is some perversion but more his half-baked OCD - I sense he is imagining that he has the courage to ask Nurul if he could bring her blouse home to remove the damn stubborn stain himself. Luckily, his obsessive compulsive though could be useful to others – but he holds himself back for fear of his good intention being misjudged as a fetish. She is after all a family doctor, and sometimes doctors label people with all kinds of medical disease labels, before accepting there is a person on the other end.

  “I am going to find the idiots who keep saying pangolins have medicinal value and punch them in the face!”

  Soft-spoken Doctor Nurul is known to have ‘rather graphic and violent words’ outside of work. Wildlife conservation has worked out to be a good distraction for this frustrated doctor too. She does not look like she is 39 years old, in fact she looks like she is only 26 years of age, her face is fair and smooth, and there are no blemishes, and when she chooses to smile, her sweet smile will melt away any woes her patients may have, the only clue of her real age is betrayed by her ‘less smooth’ hands & more prominent micro-veins. Bureaucracy in the government can make any person cynical and bitter.

  Perhaps the wildlife that needed to be saved included herself.

  “I didn’t realise the latte I gave you was flavoured ‘feisty’,” John interjects humorously.

  Nurul wisely chooses to ignore John. Nurul knows she can’t outmatch John when it comes to witty sound-bites. She is much more suited for direct confrontational conversation…unfortunately.

  “If we have time later, we should go to the Jerudong fish-market. One of my patients mentioned that someone is trying to sell a large estuarine turtle.” Nurul commands, sipping her hot coffee latte.

  “Roger, roger, boss,” I reply back.

  1st December

  Selym: Vote

  Location: Hilaga City Hall, Hilaga City.

  Stepping out of the lift and onto the 50th floor of the Hilaga City Hall, we are met by three Hilaga city elite guards, clean-shaven and dressed in crisp all grey suits and their staff weapon in their left hands. They greet us solemnly and escort us to the City Hall council meeting room.

  As the dark large heavy wooden doors open, the first sight that dominates is not the presence of the numerous lawmakers, it is the presence of the central figure on the stage: Lord Jahat authoritatively sitting in the middle of the stage, whilst on either sides, sat two other council members whose names I keep forgetting. Lord Jahat, in his characteristic flawless dark blue suit, sees me, waves his hand and beckons me to come on to the stage.

  "Stay here Azilah and watch - don’t talk to the council members, there are politicians - remember we will never know what their true intentions are”

  I wade through the crowd around me, the different parties sit separately whilst the lesser non-conformers, ‘the independents’ huddle together, clearly scared by the events unfolding. I hear whispers of my name from the different people: Selym the Hunter, Selym the Protector and so on. I want to bath in the glory of my previous missions but then I hear someone in a familiar voice whispers: ‘Selym the Blind Fool’.

  I stop moving towards the stage, a rage burns in my heart from glory to fire.

  ‘Who said that? Of all places here...'

  I glance around, surrounded by a sea of jubilant faces, the culprit I cannot identify.

  ‘Ignore it for now, Selym’ I say to myself, faking a smile.

  As I step onto the stage, I start to notice how Lord Jahat’s dark blue suit glimmer with the stage light and more importantly how it really matches his light blue tie. Lord Jahat has a very good fashion sense, his presence extrudes confidence and victory. He smiles at me and I cannot help from feeling the glow of his charisma.

  He moves to me and grips my arms at the shoulders “Look at you, Selym - you are not just the finest soldier that I had nurtured, now you have become a leader and soon you will become the leader of the Hilaga Defence Forces - I will make sure of that.’ He pauses, embraces me and his smooth white grey hair brushes upon my left cheek as he whispers “Your father would be so proud of you - you will give you every chance to avenge him” as bursts of thunderous ovation and cheers fill the hall.

  I remember my slain father and before any memory of his death resurfaces, I bury it deep down and hard and somehow a lump in my throat appears. Lord Jahat looks at me, still clutching my shoulders, “Are you ready?”

  “Yes, my Lord - born ready”

  “Good - just stand right here and face them and I will get this show started”

  Lord Jahat raises both hands up into the air, “Let us start the meeting now.”

  The hall room is filled with at least 120 member representatives - three representatives for each district, now all eyes are look upon me and to Lord Jahat, hungry in anticipation. Lord Jahat, scans from end of the hall to the other, and then focuses to the middle of the hall. Whilst he pauses to build the eagerness of his crowd, I start to notice his much receded hairline which has exposes his forehead making him look wise and visionary to the people he leads. He closes his eyes, waiting for the room to become silent, and slowly banter and chat becomes murmurs and whispers and then just silence.

  “My people, by now, most of you are aware of why I have called everyone to this great meeting. There is a sea of change”. Lord Jahat pauses, and shift his weight to his right foot.

  “There is no more middle ground - you must choose whether you are with us or against us”

  There is a cheer in the room, with stomping of feet and fists being punched into the air.

  “We were here first, this is our world, both Bumi and Hilaga, it is one existence, both for us, and only us. It is our Bumi, not Man’s - their arrival to this world destroyed our civilization and for many millennia, we have been told not to engage with Man. We have been told to let Man, a spoiled child, to do what he wants.”

  The hall room erupts in boos and shouts of ‘No’ and thunderous stomping of feet in the meeting room.

  Lord Jahat puts his hands out and beckons the crowd to let him continue.

  “We have lost almost everything. Everything. We have given up our lands to Man, we have given up our mountains to Man, we have given up our hills to Man, and we have even given up our rivers to Man”

  The air in the hall room is choking tense, silent rage building up.

  “Man takes and he destroys - he even kills our sacred defenceless pangolins - the creature that holds the key to stabilizing our home world and our beautiful city of Hilaga”

  Someone in the room shouts out, "How dare they desecrate our world!"

  Lord Jahat does not react. “We are tired of scaring them, our efforts seem fruitless when it comes to non-fatal means”

  “Today, I am proud to share with you that, although this is against our Constitution, I have been sending covert kill teams to protect the Ingei region in Bumi, our last bastion. As your Mayor and as your leader, I have no qualms risking my p
olitical career to do what is right, to uphold my responsibility to my people”

  There are a few loud gasps in the room, followed by loud chanting “Long Live Mayor Jahat” and “We are behind you, Mayor”. A long deafening stomping of feet echo in the room.

  I am amazed and frightened by the sight of council members and politicians united in the cause. I see a few silent pale faces in the room. “We will have to sort them out later” I thought to myself. I notice there is a figure at the end of the room, he is dressed in white, his face is familiar - ‘Who is that?’

  I recognize that face! I must catch him now. Before I take a step forward, someone grabs my right hand and lifts it up into the air. Lord Jahat is waving my hand with his - “The leader of our Panah Kill Teams - Selym the Victorious - the son of the greatest Ifrit who had ever lived: Lord Ramesh”

  ‘I will sort that intruder once this is done’.

  I beam a smile of confidence, shaking my fist in the air with Lord Jahat, and yet I am feeling lost and turbulent on the thought that ‘he’ is here, daring to be in our presence, if that is all possible.

  Lord Jahat beckons the excited crowd to quieten down. “I think it looks like this is going to be an easy motion to pass.”

  A lady aligned with the Opposition party dressed in an olive green robe stands up amongst the rowdy crowd of representatives “Please this is madness, this goes against the basis of our Constitution, we are meant not to harm them but help guide Man, to walk in this direction is...”

  The lady is pulled and shoved down by hooligans who proclaim themselves as the true voice of the people of Hilaga, her appeals and screams are silenced by the roar of the cheering and laughing crowd. Nobody wants to hear her. The other independents, huddle closer together, fearing for their lives, it is clear that they have heeded the warnings before this meeting.

  Grinning Lord Jahat pronounces “Those who favor Killing Man who intrudes on to our precious Bumi Ingei, simply raise your hand”

  A sea of arms and hands are raised, with only a few refusing to raise their hand to support the murderous motion. I look at the opposition lady, dishevelled, robe partially torn and a bruised face, unfriendly burly members surround her.

  She did not deserve that, but things need to be done. You cannot make omelette without breaking eggs.

  “Unanimous support. The motion to change our Rules of Engagement to kill any man on sight who intrudes on to our Ingei on Bumi is passed without any obstruction” declares two other council members on the stage.

  A chairman of the meeting stands up. “We will submit this supported Supreme Council of Nobles to endorse is as part of new state policy”

  The room starts screaming and shouting murderously, “Bunuh Manusia” which translates to “Kill Man”.

  The crowd moves into small and large groups, as the council members start linking arms over each other's' shoulders and begin jumping together jubilantly. They are dancing to the new song filled with the only two components needed to declare war, a good slogan: the chorus of “Bunuh Manusia” and the almost synchronised marching of feet.

  I must make my move to apprehend that intruder. I scan the room for Azilah, smart enough she is near the exit doors. I nod to her and she knows we have to leave for something important.

  1st December

  Azilah:Intruder

  Location: Hilaga City, Ifrit home world

  Master Selym looking uncomfortable on the stage, in spite of this obnoxious crowd all cheering Lord Jahat and him and for to kill all men who intrude into our lands. Something spooked him. Our eyes meet, I notice he does not seem his usual confidence. Master Selym signals by nodding me.

  Hmmm, looks like we are leaving here.

  Selym pushes his way through the kicking and dancing crowd - yes, I did say dancing.

  Has politics come to this now? Hooliganism? My grandparents would have banished all of them for such rowdy behaviour. We have truly gone down the rabbit-hole.

  The opposition lady in a torn olive green robe, limps towards the exit, her face bloodied and bruised. The members of her own party, ‘the Independents’ surround her and try to help her walk but she pushes them away.

  I can barely hear what she is screaming at them, “Where were you all? We didn’t come here to be comfortable. We came to make a stand, and I was alone. Where were you all?”

  She starts to sob and she picks up her limping pace towards me, towards the exit. I can’t help but feel sorry for her.

  The other members try to console her but she keeps pushing them away. “You know the greatest tragedy is not the oppression and cruelty by these bad people but the silence over that by the supposedly good people.”

  She stares at her party, pointing towards them unsteadily with her injured hand, “Your silence!”

  As she exits the room, she pauses and looks at me. I scan her face and immediately recognize her, but before I could say anything, she leaves.

  Lady Hanan used to take care of me as a child. I recall memories of playing with her by the Great Tree.

  As I see Master Selym approach, I pause my thoughts and promise myself to reflect about her and my time with her tonight.

  Ok here comes Selym. Keep my thoughts to myself, remember I am a professional.

  Master Selym is furious “There was someone in this room who does not belong here, not in our world - he just left - Did you see him?”

  “Who?” I ask.

  “The human Adib.”

  I say to myself, “It is impossible. Never ever possible.” The human Adib? - how could he ever enter our world. They said it can’t be done, even if it’s just a theoretical risk.

  I choose my word carefully. “Master, did you say the human Adib - the one we are watching over?”

  “There’s no time to waste! Follow me!” Selym barks, I see a bead of sweat flow down his right temple.

  Running down the red carpeted halls towards the lifts, Selym points to the emergency chute “You take the lift, whilst I go down the emergency chute”

  I catch my breath and enter the lift which takes me from the 50th floor to the ground floor, before I could finish exhaling. If I was an intruder, I would get to the ground floor and then escape into the city streets. The human in Hilaga - that’s just impossible. Just simply not possible.

  Selym has already alerted all the City Hall guards, a few dozen grey guards are scrambling in the atrium ground floor reception, scouring and checking every room.

  “Hmmm, amateurs! Come on people, he’d be out of the building by now” I say to myself, whilst reminding myself to be a professional.

  I rush off through the glass doors and out onto the packed city street, a sea of ‘protesters’, dancing in the streets, with one hand holding their protest signs of “Kill All Humans”, chanting the same line in the hall “Bunuh Manusia”. These are not real protesters; they are lobbyists clearly engaged in the trade of the ultimate marketing: incitement. The question in my mind, in the middle of everything, this chaos, is who is getting them to mobilize - pulling the strings of the puppets, and pulling the strings of the puppet masters.

  The glass doors violently slam against the side of the building as Selym rushes outside, followed by three of the guards. He pushes against the crowd of protesters, some of whom give way to him as they recognize him. Looking around the busy night street, whoever the intruder is, he must have already gone, blended with the night, pass the protesting group and beyond, lost in between with the indifferent shoppers and citizens coming back from a long day’s work.

  He must be long gone, if he can enter the Hilaga City Hall without any problems and leave it easily then it is only expected that he cannot and will not be found. Master Selym must have made a mistake. Perhaps he is tired. It is so easy to justify reasons to give up, if I want to. I turn around to head back to the building - away from this uncomfortably rowdy crowd. I hear Selym shouts commandingly, “The intruder is there”. He rushes off to the right side of the building.

  We
chase after him, along with the three guards who wish they had not turned up to work tonight. I see Selym, in his black suit, weave in between the crowd, going further away from us.

  He’s fast - Selym is in peak fitness.

  Selym runs after the intruder - a man in white, disappearing as they both turn right into Ramesh Street. A fateful street named after his father, Lord Ramesh the Fallen.

  Please don’t die, Master Selym.

  1st December

  Nurul: Eagles

  Location: Bumi

  John, Adib and I are all in the car, as I sip my latte and somehow allow the smoothness of the steam milk froth sooth my mind off work, I start to reflect upon an oddity: how did we become friends, comrades when we have no common friends that connect us with each other.

  I look towards John, a much older man than I am, his cheerful words truly reflect him the aged and cynical yet humorous Englishman stuck in the middle of nowhere but this tiny nation of rainforest, whose citizens seem to only care for cars and not the very rainforest that could be the nation’s next salvation when the oil runs out. On the other hand, I look at Adib, who is at least a decade younger than me, and he represents the few, the promise of a brighter future, and yet instead of being the beacon of hope of this society, he is chastised by our own fellow people.

  What strange companionship we make!

  I almost choke on the thought; we are each separated by an age gap of at least 10 years. The Internet and social media had changed the rules so much - you can become good friends with total strangers, based on a common interest, or a common cause.