Trip of a Century

Part 1 Chapter 2

The Occultist

Hassan casually took notes while he watched the representative of Cham Manufacturing & Agriculture, Haider Pretorius. Haider stood at the front of the conference room presenting the benefits the company would bring to Cook Science & Industry (and to their parent company, P&G) should they agree to a partnership. Hassan personally knew all six of the other people in the room; even knew the families of most of them. He was contracted to act as P&G’s diplomat in the Middle East and Northern Africa so it was his job to make sure all deals in the region went smoothly and in P&G’s favor. Hassan did this by making sure he was everyone’s friend. For the better part of the last two years Hassan had been meeting, greeting, and dealing with business people and politicians to find the right corporation for P&G to increase its presence in the Agricultural industry.

Hassan didn’t know agriculture, he didn’t know business, and he wasn’t a lawyer. Hassan studied language, communication, and religion. He knew people, easily adopted local culture, and was able to recall the smallest details. He believed that the best way to get what you want—really the best solution to any problem—was to know the right people and to make them like you, or at least respect you. People appreciate it when you ask about their kids or pets, or when you notice that their hair is different, or you ask them about their cousin who was in the hospital six months ago for an appendectomy. He knew that Haider was a single, 25-year-old Egyptian native. His birthday was October 31st, his blood type was A+, and his 1-year-old cousin, Jumana, was a dryadis and had recently had heart surgery and Haider’s blood type was not compatible with hers—it was B+, which aptly described Haider’s approach to life. 

Hassan was also very memorable, physically. An athletic, 26-year-old sapiens man with chiseled features, golden caramel skin and blue eyes is a distinctive combination on its own. However, combined with his untamed, stark-white hair, most people looked at least twice and often found it difficult to pin down his age.

Hassan knew this partnership would happen. He knew that Haider’s presentation in front of the corporate attorneys wasn’t technically necessary. It was mostly for show at this point. Hassan had already spoken individually with everyone who mattered and all of the decisions were made. But he also knew that this meeting represented a part of the corporate culture. Hassan understood that everyone involved needed to feel like they did their part, like they actually negotiated a deal and the attorneys wanted to know that all of the i’s were dotted and t’s crossed (Hassan thought it an odd idiom in this age of electronic communication in which all i’s and t’s and other characters were automatically how they were supposed to be. Even spelling and grammatical errors were automatically corrected by context-aware AI). Without that, they wouldn’t feel right about it. He thought of it like a religion. The deity is all-knowing and has a plan and everything that happens is part of that plan. It’s the system, the culture, that gives the worshippers comfort, though. They still make requests of the all-knowing deity. It makes them feel as if they have a say or some control over what will happen. This meeting was just a prayer and Hassan already knew the answer. His only purpose at this meeting was to remind everyone of what they wanted should they forget and make sure everyone felt important. Not that he was the deity in this scenario. That would be P&G. Hassan was merely a representative.

When Haider finished his presentation, Hassan politely clapped and smiled at everyone. As usual, Madonna, a 37-year-old attorney representing P&G, had something to say and had questions that were answered in Haider’s presentation. She was one of those people who always had to say something. Hassan understood it made her feel important but also understood that to everyone else it was just annoying, so he had prepared for this by jotting down a few bullet points from the presentation that would answer the questions that he thought she would ask. He waited for her to finish her statement and mention that she had some questions and then interjected. “Let us know if I missed anything but I believe this will answer your questions,” he said as he walked over to her and handed her his notepad. He said it in such a way as to be both a statement and a question. 

Madonna gave him a curious look as she took the notes and quickly looked over them. She looked up at Hassan with a mixture of confusion and amazement. “How? How did you know what I was going to ask?” Rather than mention that he took note of every time she appeared to space out, look confused, or check her messages, he said, again with that tone that expressed both a statement and a question, “So we’re good then. No more questions.” Hassan noted the rest of the room visibly relax and some wore muted smiles. 

“Then I believe Mrs. Lynton has a contract already prepared that addresses all of the details of the partnership between Cham and P&G. Frannie, I think everyone is ready to see the final draft, yes?” 

Frannie nodded and pulled a black, 10cm by 15cm card out of the inside pocket of her navy blue suit jacket and everyone else produced similar devices. She unfolded it once and then slid the back out so that it clicked into place, creating a seamless tablet that was approximately the size of a letter-sized sheet of paper and about three times as thick. She pulled a gold stylus pen out of her front jacket pocket, tapped it on the screen a few times and said, “Everyone should have the contract in front of them now. As we read through it, sign at the indicated lines as you agree. ” 

Rather than spend the next hour watching six people read, remark, and sign a contract, Hassan excused himself. He moved to an area near reception with some soft, grey chairs and a screen showing a news program. Hassan pulled his mobile screen out of his jacket pocket and looked up a local sandwich shop called Yokal. He scrolled quickly through the menu and ordered several sandwiches to be delivered to the office. Then he sat down in one of the chairs to wait.

While he was waiting, he noticed by the caption on the screen that they were talking about the ship off the coast of California that was going to take fourteen thousand volunteers to colonize a new world. The new planet had originally been called Epsilon Indi b when it was discovered but it was renamed to Janus, as the Roman god of beginnings, after it was discovered that it would be habitable. It would be the first permanent human colony off of Earth. 

Hassan smiled as he looked at the images of Janus Colonizer 1¹ and the faces of some of the prospective colonizers—including his own. He had signed up just before the public was allowed to start signing up. He was one of the few people who had been actively recruited. He supposed that was probably due to his connections with several corporate executives and government representatives who would have recommended him immediately. It took very little convincing to get him to sign on. He loved learning about and experiencing different cultures and he couldn’t pass up a chance to actually be part of creating an entirely new one made up of people from all over Earth. However, being shrewd, he kept a straight face and talked them into taking care of his parents and brother. 

After about forty minutes of watching talking heads discuss the mission and the people involved, a man showed up with his sandwich order. He thanked the man, took the food, and then said, “Hey, Siri.” His watch replied with an electronic “boop” letting him know it was listening and then he said, “Confirm receipt of my last FoodFast order and leave a glowing review for the driver.” 

His watch replied in a pleasantly calm, feminine voice, “I’ll rate Zainuddin Abbas five out of five and leave a comment saying Zainuddin was punctual, friendly, and professional. Anyone would be lucky to have food delivered by Zainuddin. Is that what you want?” 

“Yes, Siri.” 

“Okay. Done.”

“Thank you, Siri.”

“You’re welcome, Hassan.” 

Hassan then took his bag of sandwiches to the conference room where everyone was still leaning over their devices on the wood table, reading and signing. He quietly went around the table and set a sandwich down next to each. Two of them, as their food was set down, reached over and absent-mindedly opened the paper wrapping their sandwich. One looked up and nodded and smiled at Hassan before going back to the contract. The others didn’t seem to notice. As Hassan threw the paper bag in the bin, everyone, one by one, put their stylus down and stood up.

Hassan said, “Congratulations, everyone! With the forms complete, please, eat and get to know one another.”

Madonna, peering into her sandwich, said, “Hassan, this is perfect. How do you do that?”

Then Haider said as he looked around the table, “Yes, did he get everyone’s sandwich perfect?” 

Frannie replied around a mouthful, “Oh my god, it’s perfect. Thank you.”

Haider noticed Hassan still standing. “Hassan, where’s your food? Will you not be joining us?”

Hassan replied, “No, my friends. I am done here and need to leave very shortly. I have a plane to catch to San Francisco to see my family. Then, I’m going on an adventure.”

“An adventure,” replied Haider. “That sounds exciting.”

“Where are you going? Are you taking your family with you?” Asked Madonna.

“I’m going to Janus. And no, unfortunately, my family won’t be going.”

Frannie said, “Janus? That’s that planet that that ship with all of those people is going to. You’re part of the, the…one of the people going to settle the new world?”

Haider excitedly interrupted, “That’s amazing! You’re going to be like a, uh, space explorer-settler-person. But does this mean we won’t see you again?”

Hassan smiled, “Yes it is. And it will be amazing. And yes it does, unfortunately. There are a lot of people I probably won’t ever see again. You’re all lovely and I will miss you all.” Hassan glanced at his watch and said, “And I’m afraid I must leave now.”

With that, Hassan went around the table and shook hands with everyone, saying goodbye individually. Haider gave him a hug and Hassan told him to take good care of his cousin.

Hassan left the conference room, waving goodbye, then went through the glass front doors of the building and stepped into a waiting limousine. The door was closed after him by an individual in a black suit, and without a word he was on his way to the airport.

Hassan looked out the window at the incredible sight of Cairo. A few decades ago, an architect by the name of Stefano Boeri had proposed a plan to help the city fight against climate change by growing plants on the sides and tops of buildings. Cairo had enthusiastically adopted the plan and had become a sort of cultivated, vertical forest city.

This initiative also had an effect that nobody could have predicted. After The Change two decades ago, it didn’t take long for people to notice that dryadis in general tended to be very unhealthy and spent a lot of time being treated for unknown ailments. It took a little longer to realize that the ones who lived in very rural places were actually very healthy. While urban-dwelling elves were always sick, rural elves were very disease resistant and healed from wounds twice as fast as sapiens. It was also noticed that elves dwelling in Cairo, despite it being a very urban setting, tended to be much healthier than those in other cities. It’s suspected that the Boeri initiative created an urban environment that has allowed elves to, if not thrive, at least not always be sick. That information circulated quickly and the population of Cairo boomed over the last decade as dryadis wanting to live in a city immigrated to one that they aren’t always sick in. It’s also a great city to meet women as long as you don’t mind the elfin kind.

Hassan appreciated the view of this remarkable city. Buildings sported a striking mix of colorful, flowering plants, fruit-bearing trees (palms, figs, and citrus), pomegranates, tall grasses (mostly wheat and barley), lots of lentils, and drooping vines of berries. If he watched closely while the car was stopped, he could watch tiny (a little taller than a soda can), naked humanoids flit about amongst the plants, pollinating flowers and collecting grains and berries into tiny bags. 

To Arabs they were called “juniy”. English-speakers called them “fairies”. Nobody was sure where, exactly they came from to begin with. They started showing up all over the world when The Change happened. 

Hassan recalled that about a year after fairies showed up, these huge, flowering plants began appearing all over that resembled rose bushes but with much thicker stems supporting bell-shaped flowers that got up to 20 inches in diameter and came in a variety of colors (sometimes all on the same plant). Fairies used these plants like dormitories with each flower acting as an individual room. A typical fairy home houses 15-30 fairies. Fairies are usually covered in a light dusting of fairy home pollen which has gotten the fanciful name of fairy dust. 

Humans quickly discovered that if they intentionally inhaled a significant amount of fairy dust it would induce a euphoric state and people quickly began encouraging the growth of the plants everywhere. Hassan thought it was a nice way to escape for a moment on occasion but only while alone or with people he trusted a lot because, while on fairy dust, he couldn’t reason well and was overly friendly. The first time, he made friends with a couch and refused to use it because a spring squeaked when he sat on it and he thought that the couch protesting.

While Hassan was remembering that experience, he watched a fairy with long, yellow (Not blonde. Yellow like a dandelion flower.) hair fly up next to the driver’s window and wave at the driver with a big smile on its triangular-shaped face. The driver waved back and the fairy appeared to giggle and wink a big neon green eye at the driver. The traffic light changed and the car began moving and accelerating with traffic and the fairy kept up, keeping pace with the car (the car was easily going 55-65 km/hour) until the next traffic light, where it sat on the side-view mirror. It was breathing heavily like it had just gotten done with a quick sprint. It reached into a purse-like bag at its side and pulled out a purple grape. It held it up as if offering it to the driver. The driver smiled and shook his head to decline. The fairy shrugged and, holding onto the grape with both hands, took a bite. Juice covered its face and dripped down its thin body. It didn’t seem to mind and appeared happy while chewing its bit of grape. Using its long-fingered, sticky hand, the fairy pushed a stray lock of hair behind one of its tall, pointed, almost antennae-like ears and then took another bite. Satisfied, it put the grape back in its bag. The light changed then and the fairy quickly rubbed a hand on its grape-juice-covered body and then used it to draw a heart on the driver’s window. Then it waved to the driver and flew away as the car began moving. Hassan watched as it flew into a heavily shaded alley.

The alley reminded Hassan of some of the not-so-great things that resided within this city, and others around the world. In addition to the gangs and mercenaries who contracted as runners for big corporations and governments, other-worldly things like the fairies had been spotted at night and in dark places. They weren’t all bad. Some, like brownies, he had heard, were down-right helpful. But others ranged from uncivilly mischievous gremlins to…worse. He tried to keep his mind off of the memories, but images of the corpses of Hassan’s son and his son’s mother forced their way in. He had only seen the aftermath of the attack but the thing responsible was described to him as a 3-meter-tall, gray-skinned creature wielding a big, stone axe. It made no sound, its victims made no sound, and it vanished when it was finished with its bloody deed. It was two years ago but the memories were fresh. 

He had been recruited for the Janus mission not long after. Without his son to take care of, nobody was depending on Hassan so there was little holding him back from accepting. In an effort to drown out the thoughts, Hassan accessed the touch display in the back of the car and visited a video streaming website. He pulled up a metal band from a hundred years ago called Black Sabbath, then cranked the volume up on a song titled Iron Man, and lost himself in the psychedelic imagery of the video for the next few minutes until they reached the airport.

The driver pulled up to the front of the airport and got out. Hassan opened his door, got out and straightened his jacket. The driver opened the trunk, pulled out a black duffle bag, and handed it to him. Hassan took the bag, shoved a credit stick into the driver’s hand, and said thanks before walking toward the doors. A moment later Hassan heard the driver shout, “Sir! It’s too much!” Hassan did not turn to look, he just waved. Hassan knew about how much it was. A generous tip would have been a hundred credits and likely would have made the driver’s day. He didn’t need the money where he was going so he had cleaned out his accounts, storing his money on credit sticks. This one had between 4000 and 5000 credits on it. Probably around 10% of the driver’s yearly income. 

Hassan walked by the security line where people waited to be x-rayed and checked for enchantments. He had submitted his credentials weeks ago for a background check and paid the extra thousand credits to bypass the checkpoint. Accelerated or VIP checkout, it was called, depending on who you flew with. It was just another part of security theater to squeeze money out of people. Anyone who wanted to know, knew that airport security didn’t actually prevent any real attacks. Anyone with enough money, creativity, or proficiency in the latest mobius formulas could bypass security without too much risk. One security woman checked his ticket and ID and waved him on by. Hassan then stepped through an archway and vanished, reappearing an instant later on a round, metal plate for about three seconds before vanishing again and reappearing on another plate. This happened twice more before he appeared in his terminal. Right on time. They were just seating priority first class. He boarded the aircraft and settled in with his bag under his seat. As the rest of first class was boarding, a shadow loomed over Hassan and a deep, rich voice with an English accent (RP accent, Hassan noted. An almost extinct accent, mostly only spoken in southeastern parts of England, but affected often by entertainment personalities and journalists from the island) said, “Pardon me.” 

Hassan looked up at a very hunched immanis² wearing, Hassan noted, a very expensive black suit and, of all things, a monocle. 

The giant continued, “I believe you are in my seat.” He was so big he made the aircraft interior look like a child’s playhouse. His massive hand held an electronic display that showed his boarding pass that indicated seats D 1 and 2 were reserved for this gentleman.

Hassan looked down at his seat arm and it showed D2. “I apologize.” Hassan replied. “I should be on the other side of the aisle, in D3.”

The man stepped back, unable to do much else other than watch Hassan with his red-colored eyes, and then, once Hassan had evacuated his seat, the massive individual pushed a bag under one of the seats, lifted the divider, pushed both seat cushions down, and sat on both seats at the same time.

Hassan, now in his seat next to a dryadis passenger wearing headphones on her long ears, mused out loud, “Like Gulliver in Lilliput.”

The giant man looked at Hassan and the skin of his almost-black cheeks dimpled as he smiled and chuckled, “Indeed. And nowhere but Blefescu to escape to.” Hassan noted the man likely had tusks at one time but they had been filed down and capped with gold. It made for a memorable smile. He also deduced that the slightly lighter colored “freckles” all over were likely spines that the gentleman kept filed down. Hassan wondered if he shaved with a belt sander.

Once boarding was done, a uniformed flight attendant went through the usual safety protocols; fastening your seat belt, raising your tray, using your seat as a flotation device, putting on your life bubble necklace in the event of a loss of cabin pressure, and using the feather fall token in the event that jumping out of the aircraft is the best option. 

Once that bit of routine was done, a muffled voice sounded from inside the ceiling and the floor that said one word. There is no combination of letters in the English language that could accurately represent it, although Hassan tried with letters combined from arabic, english, and an umlaut and came up with ظhsصvernخäقَافgn, which was close enough for him to repeat it. Hassan knew it was a word because on a previous flight he had used his psychic ability with the aid of his divination focus (an old pocket-sized book that contained a prayer from 1000 different religions), to comprehend the unknown language and he understood that it meant “levitate”. He was no expert on the subject, but he knew enough to guess that enchantments built into the aircraft were likely being activated to make it lighter. The aircraft’s electric engines kicked on, turbines spun, and it felt like a great gust of wind blasted it from beneath as it quickly rose vertically for several hundred feet before rapidly accelerating toward their destination while continuing to rise above the clouds.

To be continued…

1.  Those in charge of the project made the age-old mistake of polling the internet to name the ship and “Shippy McShipface” got 90% of the votes. The poll was ignored and the ship was creatively named Janus Colonizer 1. 
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2. Homo Immanis: Commonly called “ogre”. Sometimes “trog” (offensive), “giant”, “lumpy” (offensive), or “golem” (offensive). Average ~60% taller and weigh ~300% of sapiens. Often have tusks or horns (frequently asymmetrical). Long arms with knuckles hanging at knee-level. Calcified dermal deposits throughout skin vary in presentation (warty, spines, plates, etc.). Skin ranges through grayish and dull green. ↩︎