I woke up after hearing the birds. Crap, I
accidently slept during my work… I flicked the switch on the device. When the
lights came out, I was tremendously happy. My invention was a success. As I
looked around my circular shaped room enlighten with the light, I felt
satisfied.
Owh man, I forgot about them. Now I have to
save my guts and these formulas. When they came, bursting into my room, I
managed to run away, after grabbing my journal that is. As I ran, saw a big
rock and hide myself behind it. These
formulas must not fall into the wrong hands. I flipped through the pages before
I made up my mind and tore the pages with the formulas apart. Not that I need
it to remember.
I utterly despise myself. How can I let
myself be caught and treated this way? I was to be blame. I put myself into
this situation. Well, at least I managed to burn the papers. Argh, not too
rough. This was why I hate insolent people. I know as Moslems I was not
supposed to think like that. I saw my journal in their priest’s hands. That
smirked on his face really getting on my nerves.
They had put it on. This was it. I can’t
believe I foolishly put myself into this. Well, sorry father. I was not
careful. I was about to be burn alive under charge of practicing witchcraft and
wizardry. The horror of insolence. Argh, it’s hot!!!!
“Ariff, wake son… What’s wrong???”
“Where am I? Where are they?” Urgh, my head hurts like hell. When I
opened up my eyes, I saw a lady standing beside me with a distraught look on
her face.
“You’re in your room young man. Now quit it out.” She stood up. “Wash
your face and get downstairs at once. The men have come to collect that journal
they asked you to translate.” She pointed to the journal I placed on the table.
I
looked at her as if she was insane. “Why would I want to let the others
understand my journal? Who are you anyway?”
The lady looked at me queerly and shakes her head lightly. “Wake up
Ariff. Will you? I’m your mother and I said get yourself downstairs right now.”
With that she left the room.
Later, after I washed my face, I looked into the mirror. A pale young
man looked back at me. His eyes were red and fears clearly shone in his eyes.
When was it, the last time I felt myself at disarray? I wiped my face and took
a deep breathe.
I
saw those two men in black, as I called them, sitting solemnly as usual. Rigid
and foreboding. I took a seat, obviously aware of their eyes following my every
action. My mother left us alone after placing the drinks on the tea table. I
knew my parents were listening behind the kitchen door.
“Good evening Ariff. How are you feeling?” Mr. Meade broke our awkward silence.
“Not quite good, I dare say.” Especially after seeing both of you, I
added under my breath. “Let’s get this done. Here” Without delay, I took the
journal and its translation papers and placed them on the table.
They took the papers and looked through them. I watched them anxiously.
I prayed. I really do, hardly that they do not ask any questions. Every page
they read, I observe their faces for clues on what they thought are. However,
their faces still resemble those of a mannequin. If they did not move, they
could pass as one or even a puppet. I smiled at the thought.
“What so amusing, may I ask?” Mr. Kennans’ words brought me back to
reality.
“Nothing.” I straighten my back. I need to keep my cool. “So, that’s it,
I believe?”
“A
second there young man. Is this really all the translation there is?”
“Yes” I solemnly answered back with a straight face. “That’s all there
is it but I can’t confirm it to you because the way it was written was not
liked any ordinary code.” Well, not really. I didn’t write about the last part
of the journal that sparked my interest and I believe will also spark theirs. I
can’t, can I?
“Hm… Let see. Ariff, doesn’t it interest you, the origin of this
journal?” It did bother me but I am not going to tell them that. Seeing my
poker face, Mr. Meade let a sigh out. “Anyway, I’m still going to tell you
this. The journal was found in a ruin of a church. We did some carbon dating on
it. It’s believed that the journal was about 300 years old.”
“So? What is there to be excited about?”
Hearing that, Mr. Meade smiled and continued “Well, here the interesting
part. It was found in a secret stone vault with a phrase on the wall inside. Do
you know what was chiseled on it?”
“You tell me.” I said, not meaning to be rude just that I wanted to get
done with it.
As
if on cue, Mr. Kennans read the phrase from his notes. “This was a book
believed to contain the key to humans’ civilization.”
My
irises enlarged of amusement. So they did know about it. Weirdly, that was what
that came into my mind.
“Have you searched for the author’s name in the journal, Ariff?”
suddenly Mr. Meade asked. “Here, take a look again.” He passed it back to me.
I
flipped through its pages until I came to the back of the book. There, at the
bottom of the pages, written in small and neat Arabic words, ‘This book belongs
to Ariff Zukifli also known as Azimul Ariff (Paramount Ariff)’. There I sat
silently after reading that sentence. I was really taken aback by it. I looked
back at both of the men in front of me. I knew then that they knew I was hiding
something.
After retrieving back the journal, to my surprise, both of them rose to
their feet and bid goodbye with a promise that they will be in touch with me.
Seeing their back, I knew that they were willing to do anything to get the
formula. At that point, I realized that my life will never be the same again.
Also be known, when you are reading this, I am not sure whether I am
still alive, running for my dear life with helps from my grandfather or I am dead,
died for the greater good. One thing that you can be sure is that I will not
give this formula to those that may harm the ummah. If one day, that if I am
still alive, the ummah rises up and stand tall, I will willingly give the
formula to its leader.
-Azimul Ariff-
*****
sorry for the delay due to some technical problems. still, hope you enjoy this story and support me in the future...
