by S. W. Ahmed
“Please, Wazilban, you will honor us as your guests in the Dominion,” the Imgoerin said calmly. “You will extend to us the courtesy the Aftaran people have always been renowned for.”
Wazilban, evidently at a loss of words, shook his head and motioned to the audience to stay quiet.
“This is it, showtime!” Marc thought, climbing up the five steps to the stage.
“This is preposterous!” Wazilban exclaimed, letting out a nervous laugh. “Complete, utter lies, Franzek! These are lunatic terrorists, who will stop at nothing to spread any slander they can come up with to prevent us from defeating our enemies!”
Marc had just finished describing that Wazilban was actually an alien in disguise, as were many others in the audience, all holding key positions of power in the Dominion. He had also explained what he believed the agenda of these aliens was.
The aliens in the audience protested loudly as Marc made his claims, while many of the Aftarans whispered to each other in surprise. The Imgoerin, however, remained silent.
“They have no evidence to support these laughable allegations!” Wazilban continued. “We all know that I’m an Aftaran in flesh and blood, my whole life dedicated to the good of the Aftar. The Aftaran people have chosen me to lead them, to defend them and everything they cherish. All I’ve done since I became their leader has been in their interests and for their security. I would never deceive my own people like the way this… this nobody from an unknown species is claiming.” He paused. “Franzek, would you take the word of these terrorists over that of mine?”
The Imgoerin waved Wazilban aside. “Have you any evidence, Human?” he asked Marc.
Marc swallowed hard. “Yes, we most certainly do.” He felt more than grateful for the question, as risky as he knew the procedure he was about to submit himself to was. Sharjam had left little doubt about that.
Marc turned to face the audience, while Sharjam walked up to stand beside him. Sharjam took out a scripture coin from inside his robe and placed it flat on his palm. He then ran a finger from his other hand around the edge of the coin, causing the coin to glow brilliantly in a golden color.
“O sacred Scripture of Truthfulness, unveil your power, for your laws have been broken!” Sharjam’s voice boomed across the grand hall, catching the undivided attention of every member of the audience.
Bright golden symbols appeared above the coin in the air, large enough for everyone in the audience to see. The symbols took the shape of the ancient Altareezyan script, displaying the following verse:
There is no place for treachery amongst the righteous,
No room for deceit amidst the truthful.
Harsh is the crime committed by those who deceive,
And harsher still if they deceive the righteous.
Many Aftarans in the audience appeared to recognize the verse, and began murmuring to each other in excitement. Wazilban tried to advance towards Marc, but was stopped by the Imgoerin’s bodyguards.
“Silence, please!” Dumyan shouted. He was standing at the edge of the stage, right in front of the audience. “The next step requires acute concentration.”
The hall fell into a hush right away.
Sharjam now moved behind Marc, and placed the glowing coin on Marc’s head.
Marc felt the warmth of the coin spreading slowly down his head and neck to the rest of his body. The time had finally come to release his burden, the burden of a secret that had haunted the entire galaxy for so long.
“Reveal the truth!” Sharjam thundered. “Expose the treachery you see before you!”
The verse disappeared, and was instantly replaced by the next one:
Glory and fame they may find for a while,
But fear them not, nor lose hope.
For while they strive with might and main
To mask their faces and hide their tracks,
Never shall they escape the words of truth.
The audience began to murmur nervously again, but Marc paid no attention to that. He was far more concerned with the searing heat that was now rippling through his body, as if every part of him was glowing like the scripture coin on his head. Suddenly the words of the verse melted into a single ball of fire in the air above him. Then the ball shot straight into his chest. A sharp pain tore through his heart, causing him to scream in agony. He would have collapsed to the floor, were it not for some invisible force holding him upright.
Seconds later, a brilliant circle of light burst out from around his heart with a loud bang. The circle spread out rapidly to the edges of the hall and beyond, slicing right through the hearts of everyone on the stage and in the audience.
As the light faded away, so did the pain in Marc’s heart and the heat in his body, and so did every last shred of his strength. Falling backwards as his legs gave way, he would have hit the floor with a thud if Sharjam hadn’t caught him in the nick of time.
“It worked!” Sharjam whispered into Marc’s ear. “The deed is done. My, are those aliens ugly!”
The hall was filled with shrieks. Not shrieks of pain, but shrieks of astonishment and realization, for everyone could now see what Marc had been able to see all along.
Sharjam pulled Marc off the stage and to the side, away from the main focus of everyone in the hall.
Dumyan addressed the audience from the stage. “Fellow Aftarans and Mendoken guests, the mighty conspiracy is at last exposed! You see before you the extent to which these aliens have infiltrated our society and taken over all the key positions.” He pointed at select aliens in the audience. “Including the position of the supreme leader himself!” he added, pointing at Wazilban, now clearly visible as an alien to all. “They are single handedly responsible for all the damage caused to our civilization and to our relations with other civilizations over the past several years.”
Wazilban laughed nervously again, and many of the aliens in the audience joined him in a chorus of laughter. “Very nice, sons of the heretic Autamrin! An entertaining show of ancient magic! Fortunately our people and our Mendoken friends aren’t silly or gullible enough to fall for such childish pranks. Enough games for now, however. The Imgoerin and I have much urgent business to attend to. Leave the hall immediately! Your treason shall be dealt with later.”
A number of Aftaran soldiers had been allowed by the Mendoken troopers to enter the hall in the meantime. But they didn’t interfere, choosing instead to silently watch the spectacle from a distance.
“Childish pranks?” Dumyan said, sounding incredulous. “If that is all this is, then why not try undoing what we’ve just done?”
“The practice of such magic is strictly forbidden in the Dominion,” Wazilban replied. “Only criminals like you would have the nerve to maintain the skills necessary for these tricks!”
“Forbidden since you came to power!” Sharjam retorted. “Obviously to prevent anyone from revealing your true nature.”
Wazilban pretended to ignore Sharjam’s comment. “This magic trick is no proof of anything!” he implored to the Imgoerin. “Please, we shouldn’t let this nonsense interfere with our plans for the coalition.”
Before the Imgoerin could reply, Dumyan spoke again. “So you want more proof? Then you shall have it!” He jumped down from the stage and faced one of the aliens in the first row of the audience. “You, what is your name and clan?”
The alien seemed unsure what to do. “My name is Jarez, of the 852nd generation of the Lemshar clan,” he said in a hesitant tone.
“Thank you, Jarez. An honor to meet a member of the famous Lemshar clan! Can you tell me who the first member of your clan was?”
“Of course! It was Yusabir, the legendary philosopher.”
“Very good! And who was his wife?”
“Fairah, of the 103rd generation of the Sumidin clan,” the alien replied, starting to appear more confident.
“Is there a point to these questions?” Wazilban demanded from the stage. “He’s making a mockery of every Aftaran!”
; “Excellent, Jarez!” Dumyan continued. “Now, tell me, which verse of which Scripture did Yusabir and Fairah decide to put on the seal of the Lemshar clan?”
The look of confidence on the alien’s face was abruptly replaced by one of confusion. “Seal? What seal?”
Dumyan seemed to look confused as well. “Why, the seal given to you when you were born, by your parents! Every Aftaran has one of his or her own clan. It’s a prized possession, one each of us holds dear and hidden, a personal secret always kept locked away safely in our homes. Surely you know that?”
“Oh, that seal!” the alien said, trying his best to recover from his blunder. “Yes, of course. I, ah, just don’t remember which verse is on it.”
The Aftarans in the audience began murmuring to one another.
“You don’t remember? Well, that’s a shame!” Dumyan looked up at the rest of the audience. “Anybody else here from the Lemshar clan?”
A couple of Aftaran hands went up, and Dumyan picked one of them.
“Madam, please tell our forgetful friend here which verse is on the seal of the Lemshar clan.”
The Aftaran hesitated at first, reluctant to reveal such a cherished secret.
Sharjam spoke out. “It’s permissible to reveal the verse on your seal, if it’s necessary to do so for the sake of justice.”
“Very well. It’s verse 373 from the Scripture of Faith.”
“Indeed!” Dumyan said. “Would you concur?” he asked the other Aftaran who had put his hand up.
“Yes. I’ve known this since before I could speak.”
“As you should have! We’ve been raised to never forget the verses on our seals. It’s a part of who we are as Aftarans, even though we never speak of this practice in public. The question I have is: what has this alien done with the real Jarez? Did he kill him and take his place? Or did Jarez really ever exist in the first place? Given the large sizes and the widespread distribution of some of our clans, it may prove difficult to hunt down the true answer. And that’s something these aliens clearly knew and took advantage of.”
Dumyan then repeated the same procedure with three other aliens. None of the aliens knew which verses were on the seals of their clans they claimed to be a part of, but other Aftarans of the same clans knew them just fine.
The audience was in uproar. Aftarans, now convinced that this whole thing was no magic trick, were hurling insults at the aliens. The aliens in turn began moving away from the rest of the audience, gathering up on one side of the stage next to their leader.
“You see?” Dumyan said, addressing the whole audience. “They’re clearly not Aftarans! They don’t even know one of the most basic tenets of who we are. Do you need any more proof?”
“No!” was the unanimous roar of a reply, coming from Aftaran civilians and soldiers alike.
“And how about you, sir?” Dumyan asked, turning back to the stage to face Wazilban. “Need any more proof?”
But Wazilban was nowhere to be found, and nor were any of the other aliens. They had all vanished into thin air, in one big flash.
The five Shoyra-class vessels that pulled away from the Bara Dilshai resort were clearly visible through the transparent walls of the grand hall.
“They all disappeared in front of our eyes, just like your two prisoners back on Meenjaza!” Marc said to Sharjam, staring at the ships carrying the aliens away from the asteroid.
“Yes, those aliens obviously have powerful capabilities,” Sharjam said angrily.
The ships headed off in the direction of the supermassive black hole. Marc wondered for a moment if they were actually going to go into the black hole.
“That would be suicide!” he thought.
The hall was in total chaos. Prominent Aftarans and Mendoken in the audience were engaged in loud debate with each other, trying to make head or tail of all that had happened. Dumyan was speaking to the Imgoerin, explaining who he and his brother were and how they had ended up here, as well as Marc’s ability to see through the aliens’ disguise and how Sharjam had used the power of the Scriptures to uncover it. Aftaran soldiers and Mendoken troopers alike were scrambling out of the hall towards their own ships, vowing to pursue the aliens until they were caught. The soldiers had also contacted the crews of the Aftaran vessels surrounding the asteroid, instructing them to block any ships attempting to break out through the barricade.
“We must go after them!” Marc said, just as the first vessel took off in pursuit of the ships carrying the aliens.
Sharjam agreed. He was about to follow Marc up the aisle and out of the hall, when his eyes seemed to notice something in the sky. “Marc, look at that!”
Marc turned around to look back. “Holy smokes!” he yelled. “It can’t be!”
But it was. Five blue specks had appeared in space in the path of the escaping ships, right before the barricade of Aftaran vessels. The specks quickly grew into circles, just as each ship came to a stop inside one of the circles. The circles then increased in thickness, becoming spheres that completely engulfed the ships.
“You know what’s happening, Marc?” Sharjam asked, as everyone in the hall fell quiet and began watching the scene outside.
“Yes! The aliens are about to escape into a consar!”
A single tunnel leading off into a different dimension appeared behind the spheres. Then, with bursts of energy, the spheres catapulted one by one into the tunnel and disappeared, barely escaping the fire from the vessels in hot pursuit.
“That’s it, we’ve lost them!” Marc said, shaking his head in dismay. He couldn’t believe it. These aliens had consar technology! They had probably been the masters of consars all along. If they could travel through consars, perhaps they had come from very far away, maybe even another galaxy. That would certainly explain why nobody had so far been able to identify their kind.
But now, there would be no way to find out for sure. Since their cover had been exposed, the aliens had decided to leave, probably returning to wherever they had come from. They had most likely alerted all the other aliens scattered across the Dominion to immediately leave as well. There would be no way to find out anymore who these aliens really were, or the reasons for their agenda of annihilation. They had disappeared without a trace.
Or had they? Marc’s eyes focused again on the spot where the ships had disappeared. The tunnel was still open! What was going on?
Osalya floated over to where Marc was standing. “It appears we are in luck, Mr. Zemin,” she said.
“How so?”
“The strong gravitational pull of the supermassive black hole is preventing the consar entrance from closing.”
Chapter 34
The Mendoken shuttles returned safely to their Aima-11 mother ship, and landed in one of the ship’s many hangars. Sharjam waited eagerly as the shuttle he was on came to a complete stop. He stood by the door, and as soon as it slid open, was the first to step out. Raiha was standing there on the hangar floor. He ran to her and embraced her, his heart filled with joy.
“Oh, Sharjam, I’m so glad!” Raiha said, tears welling in her eyes as she hugged him tightly. “I prayed nonstop to the Creator to bring you back to me, alive and well.”
“The Creator has listened to you,” Sharjam said, smiling and struggling to hold back his own tears. “How are you feeling now?” He took a step back to gaze at her. As always, she looked absolutely beautiful.
“Like new! These Mendoken doctors are amazing with their skills and medical technology. They not only healed my wounds, but also smoothed the skin and feathers. I guarantee you won’t be able to find a single scar anywhere on my body.”
“Well, maybe I should do a detailed search then, just to make sure,” Sharjam said mischievously.
Before Raiha could respond, Dumyan approached them. “Sharjam, I’m supposed to meet shortly with the Imgoerin to discuss what to do next about the aliens. You should come with me.”
“Go ahead, Dumyan,” Sharjam said. “I want to spend some time with
Raiha before we go off again.”
Dumyan looked surprised. “You’re actually willing to let me make a decision for the both of us?”
“My brother, I have never had more faith in you and your often hasty, irrational decisions as I do now.”
Dumyan’s face slowly broke into a smile. He winked at Raiha and walked away.
“Well!” Raiha said, raising her owl-like ears. “I wish your father were here to see how far you two have progressed. Remember the horror stories you used to tell me before, how you and your brother constantly argued about anything and everything?”
Sharjam nodded. “I think that was my father’s whole intention in sending Dumyan and me off by ourselves to confront Wazilban.” He paused. “And on the topic of my father, there’s something I need to talk to you about.”
The two of them walked to the transparent wall on the far side of the hangar, and admired the clear view of the ship’s internal city in the distance. Sharjam first related to Raiha everything that had happened at the Bara Dilshai resort. She had already heard the summary report, but now wanted to hear all the details.
“News reports are also coming in that other Aftarans in key positions across the Dominion have suddenly disappeared,” Raiha said after Sharjam had finished.
Sharjam frowned. “All of them aliens, no doubt, heading back to wherever they came from. Wazilban must have broadcast the message before disappearing through the consar.”
“So what will happen next?”
“We will follow Wazilban and catch him! We can’t let him get away with what he has done.”
“How? By going into the consar?”
“What other choice is there? It’s risky, I know, but we must find him and his alien associates before they strike us again.”
“If you’re going, then I’m going with you!”
Sharjam knew this was coming. “No! You’re not. It’s too dangerous.”
“If it’s not dangerous enough for you, then it isn’t for me either,” Raiha said defiantly. “I’m not going to lose you again.”
