Dawn of Hope- Exodus

by Dobrin Kostadinov

  ‘You seem to be off your head, boy!’ Omar exploded in laughter. ‘Which are these four military bases you mentioned? You don’t believe they are just some agricultural cooperatives whose tractor you took for a tank and whose harvester you thought a plane, do you?’ he asked, mockingly.

  ´The American Johnson Air Base, the American-German Eisenhower, Thirteenth Russian Air Base and the Chinese Shen National Air Base. These are the places, they sound frightening at first,’ Milev listed them, harboring the hope that the names would not scare Omar.

  ‘Exactly. This is sheer madness! Do you know that just one of them could determine the status of the world peace?’ the General stated, still smiling.

  ‘Yes, I do, that’s why the spaceships were built there–so that no one can lay a hand on them, no one but a man of your resources who’d be the last person they would suspect. We only have to wait for the right moment to act. Don’t forget that fortune favors the bold. All you need to do is draw up a plan of action and think of a way to execute it. Money is not a problem, not at all. I take it on me to provide it. You can be the Great General Saadi and remain etched in people’s memory by that name,’ the Lieutenant said, stroking the ego of his friend with his final words and thus igniting the spark, the prime cause for everything that was to unfold in the future.

  The high-ranking officer listened to his acquaintance, strode to the window and peered through it. He took a look at the world outside. His office was situated in the highest building in the area. The 45th floor opened a view to a large part of Tehran as there was nothing around the building to obstruct the cityscape and the building was in the immediate vicinity to a small ghetto in the suburbs that was just beginning to get affected by the food shortage and the lack of decent living conditions.

  But despite the blood-curdling scene, the Iranian saw the uncovered pain of the humans who were walking down the street. Growing poorer and poorer, hungrier and hungrier, people stole food from shops while the police were lying in wait outside. They treated criminals as trash, gave them a good beating and then took them into custody, never mind they were stealing to provide sustenance for their children and for their families. And there were many protesters who chanted, waved flags and carried banners. All that was plain to see through the small office window of the man who could possibly change it. Whether it was a coincidence or a well accomplished assignment of destiny, the conversation between the two and the view that was offered to Saadi’s eyes, were yet to be revealed. After he saw what he had to see, the General turned back to the Bulgarian.

  ‘A man is a man when he helps another in distress. We’re men of means and sitting around and watching without helping is a crime in itself. I promise to consider seriously your words, but I want you to know that such an endeavor won’t be an easy thing to do, it borders the impossible. We’ll need people and much, really much money,’ the Iranian expressed his doubts about collecting the means.

  ‘Have no worry, I’ve gained experience over the years and, most importantly, I have people I can rely on, people who can provide me with intelligence about the darkest and most strictly concealed human affairs. And with the latest secret I was let in on the money will be no problem at all. It’s important that you agree and that you don’t give up,’ Milev emphasized. He was determined to bring that ambitious, yet vague idea to fruition as it was gradually starting to take the shape of a well thought-out plan.

  ‘I’ll think about it tonight, in peace and quiet, I’ll weigh up the different possibilities and decide if I can do something like that. I’ll contact you tomorrow to set up another meeting and see if the things will work out.’

  ‘All right, I’ll be waiting for your feedback. I’m positive you’ll make the right choice.’

  Once the conversation was over, Dimitar drank up his whiskey and left for the hotel he was staying at, leaving Omar alone. Making a decision such as this one was no easy job and how correct it was going to be depended entirely on his judgment. Some would find it justifiable, others would not.

  Death was slowly making its way to the poor regions and the urban ghettos. Yes, precisely death, brought about by hunger, misery and diseases of unidentified sources. Dying in such a ridiculous fashion in the 22nd century was truly pitiful and ugly, though not for the ones who perished, but rather for the wealthy folk who could help, yet chose not to. Abruptly, in a matter of a year or two, human kind hit rock bottom and there was no more room for it to degenerate any further both morally and physically. Those with money lacked morals and cared for nothing but feeding their egos. If they could, they would hire a handful of wretched souls and treat them like slaves–it was only legislation that hampered them. The laws forged along the years were the only thing that everyone respected. But the desire to impose and implement had come with some side effects. The written laws were abided by, but the non-written ones which were passed down from one generation to the next and cultivated with the upbringing were forgotten and cosigned to oblivion. All that brought people together in the present were their common interests, if there was anything that could unite them at all. Everyone helped their neighbors, but always expected something in return and that was absurd. The good in people had transformed and had taken on a radically different meaning: each generation saw it through its own lens. And since long before that apocalyptic disaster struck us there had been no emergences to test the goodness in all of us, it seemed to have been forgotten, as though out of pure obstinacy. As time went on the universal virtues ceased springing from the inside, from the fountain of family values that had dried up in the previous few years. Over those tough years it became clear just how quickly prosperity and gradation could reach the very bottom of cruelty and self-interest. But if we wanted anything to change, we needed action, not words. We needed brave people who could perform grand deeds. We needed role models who were so necessary, yet long missing.

  All these ideas were circling General Saadi’s thoughts on his way home. The Balkan managed to get under his skin, making him ponder over solutions to the problems that were one too many. Until that moment he had only contemplated them as part of the human nature and had taken them for what they were. He had never taken it upon himself to do something about it. But at that moment he had the opportunity to make a difference. All kinds of similar thoughts surged through his mind like gigantic tsunami waves, but he could not quite find it in himself to commit to actions which involved the death and ruin of one group of people at the expense of another.

  After all those ruminations torturing his mind to the extreme, the Iranian finally managed to get to his home where he would find the peace he craved. Omar unlocked the front door silently. He took his shoes off and went to his bedroom to slip the uniform off, too. He put on more comfortable clothes and headed to the dining-room table to join his family. His wife, Kalila, whose name meant “perfect”, had cooked, laid the table and sat down at it together with their two children, waiting for Saadi to come. She was magnificent, of slightly swarthy complexion–a typical Arabian woman in her mid-thirties. Kalila had a tender face, waist-length hair and olive-dark eyes; the couple had been married for fifteen years. They got on like a house on fire despite being almost thirteen years apart. Respect was of primary importance in their relationship, yet there was no shortage of love. The officer edged into the dining-room of their apartment, looking like a ghost.

  ‘Daddy, daddy, you’re finally home!’ the children heard his footsteps right away and ran up to him to give him a hug and a kiss. They were wonderful children–a boy named Samir, twelve-years-old, and a girl named Amira, nine-years-old. Those tender creatures were his two towers of strength, his pride and joy, the essence of his life.

  ‘Hello, family,’ he greeted and kissed everyone. ‘It smells delicious, well done, my dear wife is perfect as ever,’ he did not fail to praise his spouse. ‘Let’s eat, I’m starving!’ Everyone took their place and they started filling their plates with the dishes Kalila had prepared. They got down to getting tas
ty bites from the salads and the home-made bread.

  ‘How did work go today?’ his loving wife asked, smiling.

  ‘Same old, papers to fill out, to sign, contracts, you know, same old. But at the end of the day something interesting began taking shape,’ he picked up with a tinge of mystery in his voice.

  ‘What exactly is that something, is it work-related or . . .?

  The man held his breath for a few moments and then heaved a deep sigh before he managed to utter anything. In the end he decided to talk anyway.

  ‘All right, you’re my wife and I want to share that with you, but please let’s do it after dinner when we’re alone,’ he said and felt a bit relieved even before he had shared it with his wife, the person closest to him.

  ‘We want to know, too,’ rang the voices of the little ones, intertwined.

  ‘It’s not something that little children should know, but I promise to tell you when you grow a bit older,’ he took the delicate approach to the little ones, not drawing their attention to the matter any further.

  ‘Do you promise?’ Samir asked him.

  ‘I do!’ he gave the children the answer they expected.

  The dinner was over, the table was cleared and they sat in front of the TV like any other ordinary family. Omar did not want to live in luxury. His only desire was for his family to be healthy and united and to have something to live on. His job and the projects he worked on brought him a good deal and he put it aside into a bank account meant to save money for the education of his children. With all the means he had, he could have lived in a palace, but no, he chose to have a three-bedroom apartment, like any other average man his age who was more focused on securing the future of his family than on living extravagantly in the present.

  The Saadis sat down on a large corner sofa. All channels were broadcasting only news panels which showed people who were demonstrating, or people who barely survived, or others who were on the verge of a deadly epidemic that was threatening the entire world and setting in quietly and lethally like a 22nd-century plague. While Omar was surfing through the channels he came upon a short report on the six chosen for the mission, training at the air base. A reporter was trying to feed the public attention with some more information, in spite of the secrecy in which the whole mission was shrouded. Only the names and the purpose were known.

  ‘Daddy, I want to be like them when I grow up. I want to be an astronaut and to travel to other planets,’ little Samir chirped, carried away in dreams and excited by what he had seen.

  ‘They’re something much more than that, each of them embodies a lot of skills. They’re fighters, astronauts, researchers. They’re all complex personalities and if you really want to become one, you need to lay more stress on you studies. But you can’t just be good, you need to be the best. That’s how one becomes a great person. Whether you’re in the arts or in the sciences, you need to give your best. The same applies to you, princess,’ he turned to both of his children. ‘You’re still just a mite, but when you grow up, you’ll make your daddy very proud, right?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said in her child’s voice in the manner of any other child her age and managed to melt her father’s heart instantly.

  ‘Come here, let me kiss you, sweetheart, here’s a kiss for Samir, too, although you’re a big boy!’ The father would not stop expressing his love. He did rightfully so. Who would not feel that way? Is there a parent that would not feel happy to hear children’s laughter ringing around their house? Omar’s family was one of the few happy ones in those trying times, especially in the final days when no one knew which way to take and where they would be in a few months’ or in an year’s time. Maybe he would still be suffering here, on Earth, or maybe he would have flown somewhere far away, even farther than human imagination could go.

  ‘Come on, kids, it’s time for bed, it’s already 10 p.m. and you have to go to school tomorrow,’ Kalila reminded them.

  ‘Mommy, can we watch a fairytale movie before we go to sleep?’ asked little Amira.

  ‘All right, choose something short, no more than thirty minutes long.’ The children rejoiced at the news and followed their mother to their bedroom. They slipped into their beds and Kalila put on movies on their tablets. ‘When the movies are over, leave the tablets aside, don’t go to sleep holding them in your hands,’ she said, edging out of the room and closing the door behind herself, leaving them alone. She was impatient to get to her husband and see what had happened to him earlier in the day. Once they were found themselves in private, she was quick to ask her question.

  ‘Well, are you going to tell me now what has happened, why do you look so worried?’

  ‘Come sit by me. Today I spoke to a person about something that I don’t have any idea how to tell you about. It’s difficult to explain and even more difficult to believe. I need your advice. You have a good heart and I believe you will point me in the right direction,’ the officer picked up.

  ‘All right, but I can’t help you unless you tell me what it is all about. I’m listening, Omar, I’m all ears.’

  ‘You know I’m not an unimportant person. I’m a General from the Iranian Army, a man of connections and means. I also sympathize with people for the painful things they’re going through, things you can see happening around you.’

  ‘That’s exactly why I’m so proud of you, my husband is not just an officer, but a man with a good heart,’ said his tender consolation and pulled him tight into her arms.

  ‘They proposed something to me today, something that can help me change everything around us. But it’s dangerous. I have to use my qualities and set in motion a little bit of tactics and of attacking for the sake of ordinary people. Despite that the plan does not exclude possible casualties. You can see where the world is headed and I want to help it,’ he said and finally felt relieved for having confessed what had happened to him earlier that day.

  His wife gave it a moment’s thought.

  ‘There will be casualties with or without your involvement. I suppose you’re asking me if you should accept ?’

  ‘Yes, that’s it, I need you right now,’ the General stressed.

  ‘Here’s what I think. It’s important that you know one thing. Whatever you decide, I’ll stand by you. You’re an intelligent man, you’ll handle it on your own. But you have to remember one more thing. A heart that sympathizes with people’s pain is the heart of a great man. Don’t go being like the other chicken–scared of doing anything good, anything different. Listen to your heart and do good. People remember good deeds and it doesn’t matter how many mothers you’ll have to reduce to tears. All you have to do is consider if it’s worth it. The aftermath depends only on the number of people you’ll help.’

  ‘I think it’s worth it,’ Omar said in a clipped voice.

  ‘What are you waiting for then, there’re many sleepless nights ahead of you, so start now,’ his wife said with teary eyes, trying to instill some courage in him and she well did.

  ‘Thank you for the strong words, that’s why I needed to talk to you. You’re the only person who understands me completely, but now I’ll have to leave you alone for a while. I’ll have to go back to my working place for a couple of hours and start now as you suggested. I won’t be long,’ he said and kissed her on the forehead, then put his overcoat on and headed back to his office.

  When he left the building they lived in, he instantly headed for his car. He unlocked it, stepped into it and sat there for a while before driving off. He took a deep breath, turned the key and started the engine soundlessly. Omar set out for his working place in the heaviest of traffics despite the late hour and the already massively used flying automobiles which were supposed to reduce the street traffic. The intercity airspace was partly busy; accidents happened there all the time, too.

  As he was driving he had time to think, for the cars of that era used a complex positioning system which made it possible for them to drive themselves and thus let their drivers rest. Omar was
thinking that it would be very criminal-like if he had to drive at that part of the day every night. And respectively that he would draw much attention if he did it on a regular basis. Then an idea came into his mind: he could take care of things from home, at least in the beginning, leaving his regular job duties and all the pressing meetings for the office. After about 30 minutes of rolling he finally got to his work place. He went to his office and opened the locked door. The General inspected the archives, then started piling the important documents in a small box which he intended to look through at home in peace and quiet. He took out of his pocket a small USB drive and plugged into his computer. He copied a few files and hastened to leave so as not to arouse suspicion. On the way home he actually felt how thrilled and impatient he was to develop what he had planned. Maybe it was because of the good cause that he was delighted to serve or because of the fact that nothing especially significant had happened to him lately. The monotony of the routine had embraced him tightly and had made him a retired old man long before the momentous meeting took place. Yet, for a few hours his inner state had changed completely. He was even impatient to call Dimitar and set up their next meeting to discuss the details. Hence, he pulled out his phone as he was driving and made to call him, but then he realized it was an odd hour to call at, so he just texted him: “Tomorrow, 10 a.m., at my office.”

  At 12:40 p.m. Saadi finally made it home. He silently placed the box in the guest room which, on the drive home, he designated as his study and then headed towards the bedroom. His wife was sleeping there silently. Slightly uncovered, she turned every now and then. Maybe her restlessness was the result of the ideas her husband had shared with her or it could have just been a product of the nature of human dreams–they were accompanied by tossing and turning and somniloquy. There is no way for us to know and even Kalila herself would not be able to tell in the morning what had bothered her late at night. It is a widely known fact that most people do not remember their dreams. And even if they do, half an hour after waking up they have already forgotten most of what they were about. Truly lucky are those who remember their dreams and can take advantage of them, as human brain is just as active and productive in that state, too . . .