RABAN (The Rabanian Book 2) Read online

  We surfed until late that night. I finally was able to reach the path twice, and expose it once, though only with a lot of help from my father. I was completely exhausted when I walked to my room. The house was quiet and dark when my father tucked me in bed. He whispered in my ear before he left the room, “Remember this is our secret." But this time he also added. "You can't even tell your mother."

  I was five years younger than my cousin Naan, the son of my uncle Daio and aunt Ogrit. Though we both studied in the school my father and my uncles had founded, the age difference was too large for us to talk much with each other when I was younger. It was funny to think I only realized he was my cousin when I turned seven. My mom said that it was just one more way I resembled my father. His genius often made him completely blind to other things.

  Even though we studied in the same school, I was so different from Naan and the rest of my cousins that a stranger would find it hard to believe we were related. It was more than just how different we looked. Those differences grew bigger when Naan and the rest of my cousins, started going to private meetings three times a week.

  My parents explanations were confusing. “They are being taught how to lie," I remember my father saying that first night.

  “Raban my dear, they go to teachers who instruct them in how to behave in polite society," was my mother's explanation.

  Later I realized they were being sent to special teachers to learn how to behave among political leaders and other important people. Someday they would become ministers or maybe even replace uncle Daio. No one said that explicitly of course, but I understood the truth. Why else would my cousins be allowed to study with teachers brought specially from Mampas, but not other kids in school?

  "Is Naan really my cousin?" I asked my mother one night.

  "What do you mean?"

  "I mean he's short like a Naanite."

  "He is, but you know he is Daio's son, so why do you ask?"

  "I don't know, someone said he's adopted."

  "He's not adopted, aunt Ogrit, his mother is Naanite, and he turned out to be short like her."

  "Why did uncle Daio marry her?"

  "Why shouldn't he? She's a very talented woman. You know she was in charge of all the chemical labs of Naan."

  "But now his children are all short. Heneg and Elena and Yolan, even Hool and Luna. All of them are short."

  "And this bothers you?"

  "So are Monar, Mampas, and Seragon. The children of uncle Dug," I continued, locked within my thoughts.

  "That is correct, aunt Richava is Naanite, and being short doesn't make them any less capable."

  "I don't mind that they are short," I said and quietly added, "I mind that I'm different."

  I was sitting at the dining table and she walked from the kitchen and sat down next to me.

  "You're not different," she said.

  "Really?" I replied with a grin.

  "You are special."

  "Special is different," I said.

  "The children from the Chosen are also short," she said. "I don't think you care about being different than them."

  I didn't know what to say. After she went back to the kitchen I thought about it for a while. Finally I said, “The children here are short because their parents are short. Why can't my cousins be more like their fathers?"

  She stared at me from the kitchen and didn't say anything for a long time. Her calm silence made me realize that I was simply jealous of the fact they’d turned out to be like their mothers.

  There were lots of discussions like this when I was a kid, but they never eased my mind. At sixteen I was much taller than any of my cousins, including Naan. Every time he looked at me, his head was forced to tilt up. I felt his contempt and could see the disdain on his face.

  In addition to the size was the difference in the education, not at school but at home. They had their after school teachers and I had my father. From a very young age I’d surfed with my father on the network. I remember sitting on his knees in front of the terminal in his study and surfing to many places in the network using complicated surfing methods late into the night. My father told me that when I was an infant, I would often reach my hand up to his neck to feel the vibration. I guess I found it more interesting than the flickering of the screen.

  My mother never liked it, and arguments with my father were a common thing. My father used to say that if Daio and Dug's went to special teachers so they would know how to react to their environment, then his son would receive special classes to learn how to behave in his environment. The arguments about the specific definition of this environment gradually grew. Then the shuttle crashed close to the City of the Chosen and the arguments stopped completely.

  I didn’t always like to spend my spare time surfing with my father. One time my friends and I had planned to spend the night beside the creek in the valley. It was a dark night and we planned to watch shooting stars. I was anxious to join them but my father insisted I wait until after our lesson. I felt I was missing an unforgettable experience and I complained that I was fed up with these lessons. My father sat me in the chair and explained to me that my surfing capabilities were special, unique, and that practicing was important. He insisted that I wasn’t missing anything, that the night would still be dark when we were done.

  "What’s so special about me?" I asked my mother the next day while helping her in the kitchen.

  She looked at me, and then wiped her hands. "Your father thinks you have special abilities. Something no one else has," she said as if she was telling me some big secret.

  "Every father thinks his son is a genius," I said. Even in school they told us we were unique when we didn't want to study.

  "I don't think your father is overstating things. You know how talented he is. Everything you know, you know because of him. Everything," she said emphatically. "He wouldn't say that if he didn't really think so."

  "Naan says father is crazy," I suddenly said.

  "Naan is teasing you. He knows the truth."

  "He said his father did everything," I said.

  "He's father has done many good things, but nothing would have happened without your father. He saved the whole planet twice."

  "Naan says that father ran away. He said that grandfather Oziri helped save Naan."

  She sighed. "Grandfather Oziri… Grandfather Oziri sent his men to find your father."

  "Why did he run away?"

  "He didn't run away."

  "Grandfather's people were looking for him so apparently he did."

  "It's a bit complicated," she said and sighed.

  "If I'm indeed talented then aren’t I supposed to understand things that are a little bit complicated?"

  She laughed. "He went into the mountains because he was afraid his idea to stop the plague wouldn't work. He was afraid of failure." She turned wistful. Years later I realized it was only half of the truth. My father wasn't very mentally stable back then. But who would have been in his situation?

  "In school they teach us that you learn from failures," I said.

  She looked at me. "Your father never went to school, so I guess no one told him that. He never had a father and his mother died when he was very young."

  "Ahhh," I mumbled.

  "In any case, grandfather's soldiers found him…” She nodded her head.

  "What happened?" I asked.

  "It's hard for me to remember those times. I was sick, and everything… everything was up in the air."

  "Up in the air?"

  "Nothing was stable, everything was disconnected, hanging."

  "I don't understand."

  "It's hard for me to explain this. It's like throwing ten balls into the air and try to catch them."

  "Ahhh."

  "I was very sick. Grandfather Oziri came to kill your father because he thought he had hurt me. The whole time your father had a solution to all of Naan's problems. Does that help you understand? Everything was up in the air."

  "Grandfa
ther didn't kill him though," I said, even though it was obvious, but I wanted hear more.

  "No, grandfather didn't kill him," she said and sighed. "I spoke to the commander who came here then I spoke to your grandfather. I was very sick and was barely able to breathe. I don’t know, everything worked out somehow, even though we were on the verge of a disaster. If they’d killed your father, I think I would have died. And Naan…. the whole planet would have been left behind."

  I nodded.

  "Back then Naan's natives believed in all sorts of things. You probably know about the Sinner's Plague. They believe they need to atone over their ancestors sins."

  "Yes I know," I mumbled, thinking of my cousin Naan.

  She looked at me. "Your father is a very special man and don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

  "I know that all of the people in the City of the Chosen came because of him," I said wondering why I even cared about my cousin Naan's words. The hundreds of people who’d followed him here from the city knew much more than that fool.

  "When they found him he was gaunt and had a long beard. He probably would have died there if they hadn’t come looking for him," she said pensively. She chuckled to herself, "I think his lean figure and the rags he was dressed in, were burned into their minds. He personified the scouring of the sins of their fathers more than anything else."

  She looked at me again. "And if you father thinks you’re special, then you’re special."

  I knew the stories, our teachers spoke of them often, but it was nice to hear them again from my mother. I adored my father. I don't think he knew how much at the time. My painful lessons continued as I grew. Every night I went to my bed half-asleep. Every night he would remind me that the lessons were our secret. In the years to follow, through the hard times, I took comfort when I awoke to have this warning from my father echoing in my head.

  When I was thirteen I internalized the claim that some of my father's genius, that sometimes bordered on craziness, had been passed to me. I only ever saw evidence of this when I was challenged. Learning scrambling from him at such an early age made this vile skill seem natural to the point that my father's warnings not to tell anyone never truly alarmed me or aroused my curiosity. These warnings were was just another part of my scrambling education

  When I was fifteen we started studying the rules of scrambling in school. It amazed me. Those lessons gradually kicked off a war within me. It didn't let me rest. I began to question why my father and I were doing things that could send us to jail for many years. I wondered how it was possible that I’d been so naïve for so many years. I began to ask myself why I hadn’t bothered to ask my father even once why were hiding our activities. How could my father be so reckless to place this dangerous knowledge in my hands at such a young age? What we had been doing was equivalent to playing with explosives. Any small mistake could have gotten me killed or caused the deaths of many others.

  My cousin Naan got along well with his brothers and his other cousins, but he never liked me. I was a stranger. An alien. I looked different. I seemed to be from a different place with different ideals.

  Naan was bold and didn't give a damn about anyone but himself. Dug's children adored him. I, on the other hand, was indifferent to him. I guess he thought I didn’t agree with the rest of the family. They all thought that he was destined for greatness.

  He started to really hate me when he was nineteen and I was almost fifteen. There was a big party to celebrate his father’s selection as the special advisor to Thesh Monash, the new president of Mampas. Thesh was a successful businessman whom Daio had met during one of his visits to Mampas. They became close friends. Thesh consulted with him before finalizing any deal he made. I once read a news report saying that Thesh considered Daio's advice more valuable than his professional advisors. He once said that a man who transformed a backwater planet like Naan into what it was today could not make many mistakes.

  Daio was also one of the people who had pushed him to run for the presidency of Mampas. People around Daio had complained that that he was investing too much time in Thesh's business dealings without it having any direct value for Naan. They changed their mind when Thesh's candidacy was declared. When he was eventually elected it was as if Naan had won a big lottery.

  The party took place on the grounds of Daio's house in the City of Naan. When the original house had been burned many years before, a few nearby houses were torn down and the space around the mansion was expanded. It now included a colorful garden, two hovercraft landing sites, and a huge lawn that could easily hold hundreds of people.

  We arrived at the party on a flight from the City of the Chosen. We landed and walked across the lawn. People watched as we approached and stared at us as we passed. We towered over everyone. It was as if we were an alien species who’d arrived to settle this awakening planet. Our gray and simple clothes stood out as well. The other guests were wearing such glamorous suits that we looked more like a family of servants who’d mistakenly walked into a fabulous dinner party held by their employers.

  My eyes met Naan’s several times and I could sense his contempt. My other cousins ignored me as I passed. I greeted them in turn, because my mother had asked me to be polite, and they muttered a soft and polite hello as their special teachers had taught them. I could hear them whispering behind my back as I walked away though.

  I walked to the edge of the lawn and stared at the illuminated house and the landscaped garden around it. I stood there for a moment thinking about how it was all thanks to my father. I wasn't jealous of my uncles or their children. I was happy where I was, and agreed with the ideals of the Chosen, but my cousins snobbery bothered me; their gazes, their coldness, and their remote silence.

  "Want to see the house?" I suddenly heard a voice from behind.

  "Luna," I called out when I saw her walking towards me. "How are you?"

  "I'm well. And you?"

  "I'm great," I said and looked at the house again.

  "Enchanting, isn't it?" she said.

  I nodded.

  "Want to take the tour?" she asked.

  I looked at her surprised. "Tour?"

  "Of the house," she said nodding.

  "Ahhh-no thanks."

  "What is Ahhh for? Are you embarrassed?"

  "I'm not embarrassed," I said and smiled, embarrassed.

  "Did you know my room was once your father's room?"

  "That house burned completely," I said.

  "That's true, but most of the house was rebuilt according to the original plan. My father told me that my room is identical to the one your father lived in back then and that I should be proud."

  "He only lived here for a short time," I said and looked again at the house. "I bet it doesn't look the same."

  "Of course not, but it's still the same room," she said delightfully.

  I wasn't sure.

  "Come on," she said smiling.

  "You sure it's okay?"

  "Sure," she said and started to walk towards the house.

  I didn't have anything better to do. Besides I liked the way Luna, didn’t speak to me as if I was the son of her crazy uncle from the City of the Chosen. I hurried after her. We pushed through the guests that crowded the entrance. The crowd gave way before me and she laughed as she walked behind. Just before the entrance to the house she jumped in front and led me in.

  "This is the kitchen and this is the dining hall," she said pointing to the large room to the left of the foyer. "And this is the living room," she said pointing to the right. She immediately started to walk up the stairs to the second floor. "Come on," she called and I rushed after her wondering how her family handled the stairs; Her father was tall but her mother and siblings were short.

  She stopped next to an open door and said, "This is my room."

  I pushed my head in and looked at the room. It was filled with everything a wealthy young teenager could desire. It wasn't my father's room exactly, but I still felt odd.

  "
You can come in," she said. I hesitated then walked inside.

  "It’s very nice," I said looking around. I was drawn to the window that overlooked the lawn and the hundreds of guests.

  "There are so many people here," I said trying to find something to discuss.

  "I barely know anyone down there," she said when she stood next to me.

  I smiled.

  "Mostly they are friends of friends. The rest are people I should be in touch with because they might be useful to me someday," she said in disparaging tone.

  I giggled. I liked the fact that she was speaking straight and honest.

  "I understand you're not going to compete for any political position?" I said.

  "Political?! Egh," she said and made a disgusted face. We both laughed.

  "Hello," came a sudden voice from behind us.

  I turned to see that Naan stood at the entrance of the room.

  "Hello Naan," I said.

  "What are you doing here?"

  "We are touring the house," Luna said quickly, as if she felt the need to protect me. "This was once his father's room. I thought he’d like to see it."

  "Yes sure," said Naan and smiled.

  My cousins Mampas and Heneg appeared behind him. They saw the smile on his face and smiled themselves as a conditional reflex.

  "Are you coming?" asked Mampas.

  "Yes, yes, I'm coming," said Naan. He turned his head and was about to leave, but then stopped turned back. He smiled at me. "How rude of us. Here's our cousin coming from the mountains and we are not inviting him to join us."

  "What are you talking about?" asked Mampas.

  Naan looked at him, waiting for him to understand. Something finally clicked and Mampas smiled. This caused Luna to step forward.

  "Join in what?" she asked.

  "It’s none of your business," said Naan immediately.

  "It's something illegal then," she said.

  He gave her a threatening look.

  "I'm going to tell daddy," she said, walked to the door pushing through them.

  "And what were you doing here with him?" said Naan suddenly.