Shunned

by David Pilling

conclusion

The book was slim and bound in black leather. It had no title and the hundred or so pages were covered in small neatly typed script.

“What’s this?” asked Hasan, looking up at Professor Kendrick. He had been escorted to the old man’s quarters by the usual file of grim-faced soldiers, and the first thing Kendrick did upon seeing Hasan was to place the book solemnly in his hands.

Kendrick ignored the question. “We have been watching you for a long time, Hasan,” he said, “ever since your childhood. You have grown into a fascinating subject. So many contradictions.”

“Contradictions?”

“Indeed. You are fiercely patriotic but despise your own people. You are unquestioningly devout but highly educated. You are highly intelligent and yet have the inclinations of a petty thug. You do not hesitate to turn to violence if you feel threatened or insulted.”

“I am a Warrior. Warriors do not brook insults.”

“A man named Hitler once said similar things. You would recognise him in other ways.”

“Who is Hitler?”

“He was a curse. It is to avoid the emergence of Hitlers in this world that we employ people like you.”

“I am not in your employment.”

“Perhaps that is the wrong word. The deal is this: you will serve us for five years and at the end of that time, depending on your results, you will be given a reward.”

Hasan narrowed his eyes. “What reward?”

“The reward differs, depending on the servant’s needs. In your case we offer freedom for you and as many fellow Shunned as you can persuade to follow you.”

“I don’t understand.”

The Professor jabbed his thumb skywards. The roof in his quarters was transparent and the night sky above speckled with countless stars. “We will take you away,” he said, “in one of our ships, like the one you saw. To another world where you and your people can start afresh in a place free of prejudice and hatred. There are many worlds, Hasan, as many as there are stars in the sky.”

There was a pause while Hasan digested this. “And the book?” he asked.

“If you agree to serve us, you will spend the next five years wandering this world reading the contents of the book to anyone who cares to listen.”

Hasan turned the book over in his hands. It looked shabby and unremarkable, like a cheap prayer volume. “That’s all I have to do?”

“Yes. Read it first, of course. Read it many times over until you know the words by heart and fully appreciate their meaning.”

Opening the book at random, Hasan read out a few lines. “Imagine there’s no Heaven, it’s easy if you try... no Hell below; above us, only sky,” he recited. “The answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind... Who wrote this stuff?”

“It’s a compilation of writings by various seers and prophets from my own world. Jesus Christ, Allah, Mohamed, Marcus Aurelius, Bob Dylan, John Lennon, Public Enemy... But these names will mean nothing to you. They all in their own way preached peace to mankind. This is what we want you to do.”

“So you want me to become some sort of wandering preacher.”

Kendrick nodded and smiled encouragingly. “You catch on fast.”

* * *

Two days later the small group of scientists gathered in an observatory to watch Hasan as he was escorted out of the base and released back into the world. The observatory was a small chamber dominated by a bank of camera screens showing different parts of the base in real time.

They watched as a platoon of soldiers escorted Hasan through a bewildering series of corridors until they reached the last, a narrow passageway sloping upwards and ending in a thick steel door. The soldiers pointed Hasan towards the door. It slid open as he approached and then eased shut again as soon as he stepped beyond it.

Hasan found himself standing in the open. He was back in the barren rocky landscape of the mountains. All was silence except for the whistling wind and the distant cries of hawks gliding high above.

He turned around, expecting to see the smooth metal surface of the door that he had just stepped through, but there was nothing. All trace of the door had vanished as though it had merged somehow with the rock.

For a moment he studied the landscape with a baffled expression on his face. Then he shrugged, smiled at nothing in particular and walked away.

He was headed south, back to the lands of men. With him he took an ample supply of money, supplies and the book tucked into his haversack.

“There goes our latest preacher,” said Rae. “How long do you think this one will last?”

“We chose well this time,” replied Kendrick. “Hasan is a survivor. He should live long enough to produce some interesting results.”

“It seems unfair,” said Joyce Stevens, looking sadly at the image of Hasan as he walked away. “We are using him as a guinea pig, just as we used the others.”

Kendrick irritably waved away her protest. “This whole planet is an experiment, including the people living on it. Through their behaviour and reactions we learn valuable lessons about human nature. How, for instance, will they react to the book? Will it be a civilising influence?”

“That book is ridiculous,” sneered Rae. “All you’ve done is mix up bits of the Koran and the New Testament with random pop culture lyrics.”

“That’s the whole point. The words have been stripped of their context and given to someone who knows nothing of where they came from. Will the Christian and Muslim parables maintain their power, or will the people of this world react more favourably to John Lennon’s lyrics? What if they come to regard Hasan as a prophet?”

“Or a martyr,” Joyce said quietly.

“We shall just have to wait and see,” said Kendrick, looking even more pleased with himself than usual. “And if our man Hasan does not last very long, well, there are plenty more where he came from.”

Joyce said nothing more, and the three of them watched in silence as the figure on the screen before them dwindled until it was just a speck in the distance, and then was gone.

to Challenge 393...