Konu: The Masterpiece

by Rabia Rahou

  I was very surprised, and I replied through the First Advisor, “Thank you, Supreme. Your kindness is beyond this world.”

  He said, “This is the last time we will talk face to face. It's been a blessing working with you. And, if there will be another time, it means a miracle will have happened. You are the “diamond of this empire, Loman.

  “Loman, you need to know that only a true believer could beat the machine. The feelings engendered in the transcendence state by our religion are highly unpredictable. They are subjective to the person them self and no one else. The Light’s being is in us, and you must believe now for the sake of our people. It is the only way, Loman.”

  He is trying to defeat me in a spectacular checkmate. I understand now why he didn't throw me to the lions, as in his perspective, doing that is a defeat. He wants to corner me to make me a true believer. That is his victory, not by forcing me but by giving me an impossible choice that I must take.

  He then continued, “One must be completely incoherent, illogical, and mystic to bypass the predictions. Everything is predictable in this universe as everything follows the rules of physics. Every particle is connected to the next particle by those rules; therefore, the machine can predict everything, everything except a true believer as he is following another set of rules that are not physical but spiritual. Be like the Light’s being, Loman. Ask his guidance through your third eye.”

  We turned in circles. I preferred keeping silent and not to engage in a religious conversation. After a moment, he looked at me very seriously and said, “In the next 24 hours, I want you to prepare a very detailed report on General Konu.”

  I replied, “Yes, Supreme, but I must mention that in our previous report, we covered the topic of Konu. He is only a puppet in the hands of the First Citizens. He is just a general without ambitions, and for the most part of his career, was an unknown, an average military with an average career chosen to follow instructions just like their premier.”

  Quickly, he replied, “He is too average...”

  After that, he took the spray and started to vaporize water on the plants, talking to me without looking at me, like in a way, he is giving me his complementary report, “That man gives an impression of an unintelligent, rough soldier, an average new general among all the generals, doesn’t he? He got there by following the guidelines of the military institution, took his time, and avoided all conflicts with the higher chain of command. Some say he was just a soldier who got there by chance. Others say he was a kind of a safe compromise between the First Citizens and the state. I say that the First Citizens own the state, and there is no compromise in them. I don’t believe in luck, either.

  You could argue that they could’ve used the best generals to kickstart their ultimate supremacy plan. Kadar from the Secret Service was and is still the best of all their generals, in my opinion. He ran four secret campaigns in our neighborhood and successfully executed them without a drop of blood. He managed to install new pro-confederation leaders under our nose in our small republics.”

  I wanted justify our failures that time, but he cut me off, “…or, of course, General Lamas from the Space Force. He managed to destroy almost all the military, high-orbit satellites of the Rotanios Empire after a dispute over an archipelago that almost escalated to an armed confrontation. He covered up the attacks by simulating a meteorites shower and even destroyed some of his own satellites. The Rotanios gave up and took it as just bad luck. They discovered the truth just recently, way too late.

  “My point, Loman, is why promote an unknown colonel and give him the leadership of the biggest army ever when you already have the best of the best? Maybe because it is an exceptionally long campaign, it needs a young leadership. Konu is only in his 40s. Or maybe, and there is a small chance this hypothesis is true but it is worth considering, every move in his life was well-planned so he would end up in the most powerful position ever. Maybe he was the product of a well-planned, long, personal campaign by a very bright and thoughtful mind.

  “This is just an idea that keeps running around in my head lately. That’s why you need to supply a very detailed report of his behavior by your psychologists before this machine starts, as the reality is that Konu will supervise the most ambitious and important event in human history. Twenty-five billion human beings will be totally controlled by seven humans, or let’s say now, seven deities.

  “So, he needs more research than the two and a half pages in your report, doesn’t he?”

  Chapter 11

  The Supernova

  “The Deliverer changes the poor souls’ dark perception of the world, to peace and content.”

  ~ Jazir

  H e told me that I must trust him, and then gave me the most bizarre orders I ever got in my career. He told me to execute those orders even if he was killed, persecuted, or relieved from his functions. And even if the new commandments would call me back and cancel the mission, even if the Amian Empire gets destroyed by our enemies, even if the universe ends, he insisted I must complete my task. I said, “I trust you, and I will execute them perfectly.”

  I was nine when I met Konu the first time in the court of the Sunshine Orphanage. I was crying quietly in the same hiding place I went every time it happened to me. Ashamed, perplexed, and vulnerable, I preferred to blame myself. By doing that, I could come up with some logic to the situation to keep my sanity. I still remember a yellow ball hitting my feet and a short, chubby boy yelling at me with a strange accent “Yo! Can you throw it back?” I stood up and threw it at him. After a short moment, he threw it back and yelled the same thing, but this time with a smile. I threw it back again, and we started tossing the ball back and forth, then we started playing together every day.

  I suspected he knew what was going on every time that son-of--bitch Formi, the court’s guardian, called me to his office. He was blackmailing me to let him do everything he wanted to me, or he would reveal to everybody what was going on in there. Of course, a nine-year-old orphan would believe that, and in a very desperate, tired, suicidal mindset, would agree to do what he asked, hopelessly thinking that this time would be the last time, just like he promised.

  I know Konu better than anyone. That 10-year-old boy is still there with his yellow ball under a million layers of disguise and makeup to deceive his enemies – or maybe to deceive everyone. That day, when he told me that he would finish with Formi, he was dead serious. His true character was revealed when he didn't blink, and the tone of his voice changed. He told me that I would not have to worry anymore and that no one would ever know about this. That day was and still the best day of my life.

  A 10-year-old boy would usually change or forget what he said the day after. It's just natural for a boy to change his mind or neglect a promise. That night, I was praying to every saint and God, begging them to help Konu keep his promise. The next day, I saw him in the cantina, and in my eternal insecurity, I'm remembered I was going to ask him to go play ball after breakfast, checking desperately to see if he was going to keep his promise. But Konu came straight to me the second he saw me and said, “I've got a plan. Eat fast. We must do this today.”

  Out on the court, he explained to me that he only needed me to lure Formi to the old boiler room, then he would do everything else by himself. He didn't say how or what he will do. He told me not to worry and that everything would be alright. I was shaking, and in a moment of weakness and cowardliness, I told him to cancel it all and forgot about it. He reassured me that this thing would be done today, and from tomorrow on, that guy would not bother me anymore.

  It wasn’t difficult to get Formi to follow me to the boiler room. From there, just as Konu asked, I lured him to the small dark corner behind the machinery. I still remember that dark place had no windows. It had a door so small that only one person could pass through by lowering his head a little. I was so afraid! I was scared to death, and when I passed through the door, Formi was behind me, laughing out loud. That stopped as soon as he put his he
ad down to pass through the door. He noticed too late that he just stuck his head into a noose made from a dark, metallic cable.

  Konu had been hiding on a shelf next to the door. He burst out and, with that cable in his hand, wound it around a ratchet gear fixed to the sealing. He then lifted Formi just few centimeters off the ground, and that was enough. Formi was just hanging in front of our eyes for a couple of minutes. He even didn't scream as he was in shock. That morning, he didn't imagine that he would die like that, like a miserable, insignificant creature. In his eyes, I could see that he couldn't believe that his life was ending now, that the small, chubby boy with his yellow ball had just hanged him.

  I didn't lose my mind because I was watching how calm Konu was. Now, when I’m thinking about it, I think he must have done something like that many times before. When Formi stopped moving, Konu kept telling me that it was alright, but for me, this was the end of the world. Watching a man dying in a cruel agony like that was and still a nightmare. He didn't stop there as he gave me a heavy metallic tube and asked me to beat the dead body. I was crying out loud, and I was trying to run away. Konu didn't let me, and I started to beat Formi's face. I did beat his face for a good time until it was unrecognizable. The blood spattered everywhere, on our clothes and faces, and I felt reborn. I felt the presence of God, the Truth – Konu.

  The guardians found us in the court all covered in blood playing with the yellow ball and laughing like there was no tomorrow. They took us to solitary lockup rooms in the mentally challenged section of the orphanage. Trying desperately to keep another scandal away from the press, the administration called the army’s recruiters. The army’s special forces recruiters prefer orphans, and we were their top targets. Most of us already come with rage, so they don't have to teach us hatred. Plus, there is no accountability in case an orphan child dies in training or later in combat.

  When they heard our story, they came the same day. For them, this was a prize. Two kids that teamed up and planned to commit a horrific murder was the best-case scenario for them. There was smartness, logical thinking, good social behavior and camaraderie, planning, courage, determination, and the cherry on top was the crime wasn’t just a random act. It had the best motive ever – vengeance. That was the perfect cocktail the army was looking for.

  The army psychologists tested us for a couple of days, then sent us to the worst place for a kid to be, the Special Forces Black Unit where we started our training. It’s a suicide unit for special undercover missions. The training lasted five years, and we managed to survive extreme battle conditions where some of us perished. I won my freedom after serving in the Black Unit for five missions. We were separated after that as Konu was forced to stay in the Black Unit’s land force. I heard that he was phenomenal. I never doubted that.

  I was transferred to the regular army’s sea forces with high recommendations. We kept in touch, of course, but we didn't often meet after that. Memories started to fade away, I started to think that we were much different now than the two kids we once were.

  That was until two years ago when somebody sent me a box from an unknown address. I found it sitting on my desk. I opened it and found a yellow ball and a phone number with a note that read, “Yo! Can you throw it back?”

  I immediately knew who the sender was.

  I called, and he responded, “Hello…”

  I said, “Where did you find this kind of ball? I thought no one was making them anymore.”

  He responded with a laugh, “Come to my home. I am inviting you.”

  The morning after, I went to his place. I brought him a nice cake as I thought he may still be chubby because even the Black Unit couldn’t straighten him up, but I was wrong. When he opened the door, it seemed like the army had gotten rid of his round belly. We just stared at each other, and finally, with a big smile, he said, “Good, you’re here.”

  He showed me to his guest room and offered me a nice tea with mint. He didn't seem to be married, just like me, although I didn't ask him the question. Through the slightly opened door of his small library, I could see the navy files piled on his desk. He is still monologue that didn’t change, and I guess he seemed like he knew more about me than I knew about him, like he was following my career all this time. Just to break the awkward silence, I asked him, “So, did they finally teach you how to swim?”

  “They tried to, but after you left, they gave up. They said I’m too chubby to be in the water,” he said with a laugh, “That’s why they kept me in the land forces.” Then he said seriously, “Jazir, how are you, my old friend?”

  I replied, “I am fine, thanks for asking. Konu, honestly, I was too shy to ask about you. I thought we are different now, and there is no need to keep and remember our small, childish accomplishment,” I was amazed how open I can be with him.

  He replied, “That’s what made us who we are now.”

  There was a moment of silence, calm, and harmony, he and me zipping a lovely tea on a calm afternoon. Then he said quietly, “I wanted you to be the first person to know this. In the very near future, I will be appointed the head of the armies.”

  Upon hearing that, I felt a shock mixed with fear, a feeling that made my body shake. I slowly put down the teacup before I spilled the tea. I was baffled. It had been a while since the last time we met, but now he sounds like he’s losing his mind. I know him. He is not the joking type. He must really believe this.

  I pretended like I didn’t hear him properly, but he repeated the same sentence many times. Finally, I asked him directly, “Konu, are you telling me that you will soon be the supreme commander of the Amians armies? When? You are only a colonel in General Affairs, my friend. You still have a long way to go, if it’s not already over for you. Plus, you are not affiliated with the politics of the clans. If this is your opening joke for me after all this time…, well, I have to tell you that is not a good one.”

  “The First Citizens will appoint me soon. Jazir, surely you heard about the project code name ‘Supernova,’ haven’t you? After all, you are in the navy.”

  Perplexed, I said, “’Supernova’? Tell me about your appointment and by whom? The First Citizens? Why would they appoint a new chief of the armies suddenly, just like that? I beg you, let’s stop talking about this, please.”

  “Alright, sorry about that. Maybe mentioning the First Citizens was a mistake. Let’s forget about the whole thing, shall we?” He replied with obvious disappointment.

  I felt pity for him, so after a few awkward minutes of silence, I said. “Yes, of course – Supernova. But that seems like it’s more a myth than a reality. I’ve heard it talked about, but no one seems to stumble on any file or budget allocation for the project.”

  He replied, “It exists. The submarine class Supernova is almost fully built. It is undetectable and equipped with the latest ONC hypersonic, stealth, interplanetary missiles with super-nuclear capabilities – and a closed AI.”

  I was really starting to worry about him now. “I am not sure why you are talking about the Supernova project. You just told me that you will be the chief of the armies. Konu, is everything alright?”

  “What do you know about the enemy’s response in case of a total attack?” he asked

  “All empires have military bases operated by AI machines in the Solar System. They are equipped with interplanetary, nuclear weapons that are set to strike back in case the empire is destroyed. Because of that, I would think a submarine is insignificant in the options concerning a war of complete annihilation.” I said

  “Supernova’s main mission and capability consist of destroying any military installation in the Solar System. It’s a mobile and undetectable heavy, interplanetary missile launcher.” He paused here and set back in his chair, allowing me to absorb all he had just said. He took another sip of his tea, and then said, “I’ve invited you here today because I would like to appoint you as the commander of the Supernova vessel.”

  That was it! I finished my tea quickly and tha
nked him for the invitation. Then I left, avoiding eye contact with him. While driving my car, I burst out crying, thinking about him. The Black Unit can take your life or your mind. In Konu’s case, it was his mind. I couldn't believe that he was losing it. The chief of the armies? The Supernova destroying the solar system?

  I never called him back or even wanted to get in touch with him since then. I didn't want to see him in such a decadence state. In my memories, he is always at his best, and I wanted to keep that image of him. But, around five weeks later, Konu's photo was on the front page of the AmiansNews with the heading “Could the new head of the armies be this unknown man?” The state had leaked that rumor to the press to prepare the transition.

  That morning, the phones were ringing everywhere in Arc’s military headquarters. Kadar, the top general of the Secret Service, seemed to be perplexed. Even he was caught by surprise. And, if the Secret Service didn’t know about this, that meant no one took the rumor that seriously. The information wasn’t raised up the hierarchy as it was dismissed and classified as a grotesque joke. But yes, now, here is Konu, and now everyone must deal with that.

  A week later, he was officially appointed by a decree from the Prime Minister, but everyone knew at the Arc that the First Citizens had ordered that. Suddenly, nothing made sense. But what I liked about the way Konu handled that confusion is the total indifference he showed toward the promotion. He gave the feeling that it's a job like any other job, and its business as usual. Also, he gave the impression of humbled, super-confidence. A combination of all this brought back everything to normal.

  Suddenly people began to talk about his achievements and give him the credit of being a genius, even if there were no geniuses in sitting in the General Affairs bureaus, responding to complaints of harassments and so on. Through his non-action and indifference, he did achieve what many of us were trying to gain desperately, respect.