The Descent

[5]

      I am a melancholic man. I have a somber outlook on life, and a certain worldview that makes it rather difficult for me to commit myself wholeheartedly to a laughter, or even a smile. Yet, I am not a pessimist. I am too possessed to be a pessimist, possessed by a vision, perhaps, a vision that shields me from despair, a vision, in the ultimate fulfillment of which I do firmly believe, though I, personally, may never see it fulfilled. Still, my laughs are rather hallow and far in between, and my smiles... they are faint, evanescent.

“The story of Râbi’ah,” said Eve, “is unimportant, because she herself is unimportant. She made herself that way.

We have groups in this Sûq, factions, factions that compete with each other for power and leadership, factions that compete with each other more out of boredom than malevolence, although the results are often the same. We can get hurt, you know, we don’t die here, we don’t get hurt physically, but we do get hurt. This makes possible for us to vie for control over each other’s destiny, whatever it happens to be.

For the past few centuries, the biggest, most influential faction here has been, and still is, led by Muhammad, I don’t think that should come as a surprise to you...” it didn’t, “all other factions in comparison are puny and pitiful.

Still, together, they can, occasionally, challenge Muhammad’s leadership, they’re doing so now. The battle between the Brotherhood of the Olive Tree, and the East-West Alliance have been shaping our lives here for over a century. Don’t try to correlate this with the happenings in the normal world, the correlation will be inadequate, and deceptive. Take my word for it.

The details of the conflict are, of course very complex, and I’m not sure whether I myself understand them all, and so I won’t mention any. But, I will tell you of this recent development, a development that is inconsequential in itself, even humorous except that it involves Râbi’ah.

Few years Khumeini came here, I’m sure you recognize the name, he came, he saw, and he was seriously dismayed. And who could blame him? Here he was, a true believer, surrounded by the very prophets and saints whom he had idealized in the normal world, the very people he had practically worshipped, even though he himself would never admit it, and yet instead of holiness, his idols exuded, oozed godlessness.

So who could blame the Imam when he declared that all those who lived in the Sûq were kâfirs and apostates, including Muhammad, ‘Alî  and the Mahdîv himself, and when he called upon all those who would listen to wage a holy war, against them? There were many people who were ready to follow him, after all, not simply was he not the only newcomer, many of the newcomers themselves had been followers of his in the normal world, followers of his who had died for the cause, martyrs and jihadists.

Soon, the Imam with his headquarters at Abû Qâsim’s mosque, had his own faction that fought, and is still fighting, against all other factions, using the only weapons that work here, intimidation and preaching. So far the only change they managed to effect in this world, occurred in the realm of fashion, many men and women, nowadays, would wear a traditional attire when they’d walk in the streets, not out fear mind you, but for the sole purpose of doing something different.

‘But where do you fit into all this Eve? And when are going to speak of Râbi’ah?’” Eve posed these questions to herself while honoring me by doing a near-perfect impression of me, the voice did need some work.

“Well, I am Eve, and I’ve discovered long ago, that my name carries a certain magic with it, and I’ve learned to use that effect to my advantage. With the exceptions of the many times that I have been called upon to facilitate a reconciliation between the various factions, I haven’t taken part in any conflict for millennia. I derive most of my power from this fact. When you came to the Sûq, I was the only logical choice to play the role of your host, still the factions argued and argued about the matter until you resolved it by falling unconscious.

Râbi’ah was one of my companions, if you came here just three months ago you would have found her here, she would have taken part in bathing you as you lay unconscious,” the memory of the bath stimulated a rush of hormones within me, but it quickly dissipated. “Râbi’ah used to be one of those people who always had a reason to smile and be happy, this had been the case for all the centuries that I had known her, and that was unusual, Thurayyâ and I should have noticed this, but we didn’t.

And so it happened, that three months ago, Râbi’ah met with Khumeini, and became one of his converts, as well as his favorite consort. Of course, she doesn’t live here anymore. And that, my dear ‘Ammar, is Râbi’ah’s story. Doesn’t it sound familiar?”

“Very familiar,” I said, “very familiar. I’ve heard and witnessed this story many times before, indeed, nowadays such conversions seem to be a daily occurrence in the normal world. Perhaps, then, this world and the normal one are not so different. But it all depends...”

“On what?” Asked Eve.

“On your answer to my next question.” I said. “Where am I really, Eve? What is this place? The Sûq outside is a replica of a traditional Islamic Sûq, yet it is supposed to house Muslims, Christians, Jews, and other monotheists. I don’t understand this, Eve. There’s something about this place that you haven’t told me  yet. But I want you to tell me Eve, because, I want to be able to trust you, because I need to trust someone in this place. Do you understand me, Eve? Do you understand me?”

 
There was a desperate plea in my voice, I didn’t know where it came from, I didn’t know why. There was something about Râbi’ah’s story, Râbi’ah’s fate, that shook me very hard. It reminded me of days, of things, of people, I desperately wanted to forget.

But you will never forget. Never. Life will not let you, and the sooner you face this reality, the better. Do you understand me? Do you?

“I understand.” Said Eve. “I understand you, and the way you feel more than you can ever imagine. Still, you are right, there are certain things about this place that I haven’t told you, things that I intentionally omitted to tell you, things that I am not  supposed to tell you. There was a unanimous decision made by the various faction leaders to this effect, to keep you in the dark as to certain things pertaining to your being here as long as we possibly could.

But I will tell you these things, I will go against a unanimous decision of the faction leaders for the first time in my life, because these are unusual times for us here, and because I do want you to trust me.

Before you were brought here, this place had been a mishmash of suqs, Islamic, Christian, Jewish, Zoroastrian, and even pagan, then Burâq appeared a month before your arrival, and changed everything, and built this place, offering no explanation whatsoever. Then you came, and as I told you before, Burâq had told us nothing about you, but he did give us a list, a list of names of people with whom you are supposed to meet at certain times, not before, and not after. Your first meeting is scheduled for the day after tomorrow.

So you see, we wouldn’t have been able to withhold these facts from you for very long. Now you know everything.”

“Give me the list!” I said as I gazed upon Eve, beautiful Eve stretching on the cot exuding more sensuality than ever, with a mixture of concern, guilt and desire in her eyes, preparing to give me, it appeared, much more than a list.

There was another time in my life when I found myself surrounded by five beautiful and willing maidens. These were topless maidens, about sixteen years of age, although their youth was more apparent in their behavior rather than in the sizes of their bare and voluptuous breasts. I was lying under an orange canopy on a small beach of a small and minor Greek island. They were many topless women on the beach, women of all ages, sizes and nationalities. But these girls and these girls alone had my attention. Yet before I proceed any further with this recollection, I should point out at  this stage, for the sake of historical accuracy, among other things, that not all women on the beach were topless. My mother, for instance, who lay next to me on the beach, was not, for there were certain limits in her mind as to how liberated she could be, after all, she was an Arab. And I was grateful for that. And I still am.

As to why did these girls, and these girls alone, attract my attention. Well, there was a real good reason for that, that is in addition to the fact that these girls were closer to my age than all others at the beach - I was fifteen at the time - and that they sat just few feet away from me, and that reason is: somehow, they seemed to be genuinely interested in me. How else could one interpret all the staring, the smiling, the winking, and all the kisses that were blown in my direction? And did I say earlier that I had never participated in eye games, and that I engaged only in two sexual exercises? Well, I didn’t lie, I simply forgot to mention this one incident.

Although all the girls at one occasion participated in the game, two in particular seemed to be more interested than the rest, the oldest looking one, who was one of the three blondes in the group, and the youngest looking one, who was a brunette. At first, the girls spoke among themselves in their native language, a language that was either Germanic, or Nordic, as far as I could tell at the time, but what really matters is this: few minutes after the beginning of our game, they started to speak in a slightly accented English, and our little game gained another dimension, especially when it came to the my two...how shall I put it?... Suitors? Suitors.

In appearance, it looked as if the girls were speaking among themselves, in reality, they were talking to me. I replied by nodding, and my nods always signified approval, approval to their invitation to go dancing in the evening, to go skinny dipping afterwards, and...well, the rest was left to my imagination, except for a suggestive look from my sitters, a look that I’d never forget, it wasn’t dirty, that would have been a complete turn off for me, it was rather playful, yet sincere. A decision was made with this look, my blonde suitor picked up a piece of paper from her sack and wrote quickly upon it the name and the address of the disco where we would all meet, and she was about to throw it to me, as my mother had her back momentarily turned to us, but, at this instant, something happened, something that made me hate God and all mankind, for a short while. At the time.

Two   athletically built men, about twenty years of age, with that particular aura around them that would make most women refer to them as being tall, dark and handsome, came waltzing in, in that quiet and confident stride that bespoke a long and glorious history of sexual... conquests, despite their youth, ...of unrelenting sexual  exploits. Many topless women sat now on their blankets gazing in the direction of these two men, beckoning them with their eyes and nipples,  trying to hypnotize them, to draw them in; it was a contest between most topless women, and some non-topless...

excluding my mother who was too busy reading her book to notice any of this, I  thanked God for that at the time.

    ...including, however, many women who already had male partners sharing their blankets, partners who now lay restless besides them. As far as the two men were concerned, however, there was no contest. They spoke briefly with the Greek lifeguard as he bounced two topless women on his knees, he nodded in my general direction, and the two men looked at the five hûrîs that lay beside me and smiled.   Then I remembered what al-Mutannabîx once said: if you see the teeth of a lion, think you not that the lion is smiling.

The two men came and introduced themselves in broken English to my hûrîs, and at  that moment I knew that I would be a celibate, perhaps for the rest of my life. Right guess? Perhaps. Wrong time? Definitely. My hûrîs, it appeared were not in the least interested in these men, their athleticism and charm notwithstanding. Oh, for the first few minutes, they smiled, even blushed, as most men and women on the beach observed them being seduced, cajoled, and caressed by the two Greek gods, but in time, they simply lost interest. In fact, all the girls, my two suitors in particular, continued to look in my direction every now and then, and smile. Eventually, my suitors returned their whole attention to me, apologized for the interruption, and as the other girls dismissed the  gods, my blonde suitor threw me the piece of paper that promised to change my life forever.

But the promise did not have the chance to be fulfilled, blame it on the wind, blame it on my impatience, I should never have tried to read the paper on the deck of the speeding boat that carried me and my mother back to our apartment.  I still tried to look for the girls in the discos that I knew, but in vain, I hoped to meet them on the beach when my mother and I returned the very next day, but they weren’t there. At that moment I knew that I would never see them again, and this time not only did my guess turn up to be right, my timing was right as well. Right guess. Right time.

Looking back on this incident, one day, as I lay on my bed in my room in Damascus, I felt ashamed, ashamed not for any religious reasons, but for the fact that I allowed myself to feel elated because of the attention that I received from these girls. Elation to me was a sentiment reserved for achievement, and sexual attractiveness was not an achievement in my consideration, it was too erratic, too ephemeral to be treated as such. Achievement, to me, should be everlasting. The Qur’an was an achievement, the Theory of Relativity was an achievement, what happened on the beaches between men and women was not an achievement, even if many people treated it that way. I was angry with myself for being elated that day, so angry that I made a decision: sex is weakness, sex is a deception, sex is a distraction, I will never have sex, never.

But when I became religious, and I had to accept the idea of marriage, I modified my position to refer only to premarital sex. Thus, chastity was an achievement, and sex within the bonds of marriage was an achievement, because it celebrated life. Sexual temptation persisted, of course, but I learned to deal with it, I excelled in dealing with it. In fact, when I became an atheist, I found it easier to return to my original stand on sexuality, rather than to formulate a new understanding of it. And so, to me, sex, remains a weakness, a deception, and a distraction, I will never have sex, never. Never?

Eve slithered slowly over the thick and wide cushion that separated us, somehow managing to shed her robe on the way, freeing her yearning breasts from the tyranny of the blue silk, dragging her nipples over the rough fabric of the cushion, and sending electric shocks and pheromones into the air, into me... into me. And the walls within did not simply crumble, they evaporated, evaporated! All of them! Together! Jibrîl and Iblîs were silent.

I felt Eve’s hand momentarily on my cheek, I tasted Eve’s tongue in my mouth, and I sensed the wetness on my penis, as my sweater was being dragged over my head, impatient hands tore off the buttons on my shirt, and a shadow was cast over my eyes. I felt Eve’s tongue and lips on my stomach, and I tasted a nipple of hers in my mouth.

Yes, I sucked on Eve’s nipple and I did not think of milk, I sucked on her nipple and did not think of the mother I had, for the Eve, whose naked back I was caressing with my hands as she lay on top of me licking my belly, pushing down my pants, was younger than I, younger indeed, and more eager. Her eagerness showed as she pushed down my pants and my underwear, baring my erection momentarily to the world, before she buried it in her mouth. And I started looking for her womb with my tongue. Eve... Eve... Eve...

I thought of Eve as I sat upright in my bed shaking the sleep off my eyes. I hadn’t experienced a wet dream like that for a long time. And what a time to have one, my friend... Oomph. There was really no reason for me to strike Jibrîl this time, it was just that the sound of his voice at that moment was simply irritating. It constituted an invasion of my privacy, if you will.

I pulled myself with difficulty out of the bed, took my pajamas off, and my wet underwear and threw them it in a hamper in my closet: for the first time in my life, a stranger will be cleaning my underwear. I thought about this as I strolled down the corridor leading to the bathroom, and as I stood in the shower, and decided that it didn’t really matter anymore, for my privacy had already been violated repeatedly in this world, not only during my coma, but also during the shower that I had taken before my dinner with Eve.

During that shower, Thurayyâ deemed it appropriate to come totally naked into the shower area, and offer to scrub my back. “I really mean it,” she said, “this is not a veiled allegory for sex, we simply have no time for sex now, Eve is already waiting for you in the tent.” Naturally, I refused Thurayyâ’s offer, and I noticed that she did not seem to take my refusal in any comprehensive sense, and that alarmed me, Jibrîl and Iblîs sounded a warning, and the entire incident helped set the mood for my dinner with Eve, voluptuous Eve. No wonder a wall came tumbling down with a touch.

A wall came tumbling down with a touch, was rebuilt by a touch, and came tumbling down again, this time accompanied by all other walls, as my eyes gazed upon Eve’s naked body that lay on my bed. Eve... “Don’t talk.” She said. “We talked enough this evening, more than enough.” And she pulled me to her; and as our lips touched, and our nipples kissed, and as the abdomen rubbed against the abdomen, my erect penis started to ejaculate. And I woke up again, wet again, confused again, ashamed again.

The pattern was set for the night.

Still, eventually sleep, dreamless sleep, came and went, along with all the shame and the regret. And as I walked alone through the crowded morning streets of the Sûq, I walked with a renewed sense of vigor and confidence.

It’s amazing what three hours of dreamless sleep can do for a man.  Yeah, look at him, he walks as if he had, indeed, made love to both, Thurayyâ and Eve. In his dreams, if you know what I mean.

All right. All right. I could see from their tone that Jibrîl and Iblîs were using that this was going to be one of those, well... Let’s settle this thing once and for all, shall we? Yesterday, Eve made me a proposition of a sexual nature, and I politely rejected it, explaining to her my views on sex. But as we all know, that was not the end of the matter, for I did desire Eve. And so during the  night, as I slept, my subconscious, as it is usual in these cases, took over, and helped me to express my desire in the safe way that I prefer. All in all, then, nothing really unique has happened. We’ve all been through this before. So why don’t we just move on to the next order of business. You know? To the more important matters.

I hoped that my rational approach to this matter would calm things down, but as often happens in such occasions, Iblîs proceeded to dash my hopes away.

This is an important matter, much more important than anything you have on your mind at this moment, and you’re going to have to deal with it. When you rejected Eve, it had nothing to do with any of your obsolete views on sex, you rejected Eve, because you were afraid, terrified, partly of the sexual act itself, but mostly of the prospect of getting close to someone, of becoming involved in an  intimate relationship. You don’t know how to share your life, it’s a new experience to you, an experience that you’re not willing to go through, but you can never stop yourself from fantasizing about it. It’s your demon and you’re running away from it, you, who prides himself on being honest with himself. Well,  you’re nothing but  a coward, and a hypocrite.

Iblîs, I noticed, was not simply trying to dash my hopes for a rational conversation away. No. He wanted to break me,  break me, into little pitiful pieces. And if that’s indeed what he wanted, it was not going to be easy.

So you want me to throw myself in the arms of a strange woman, while in a strange and, so far, incomprehensible world, not posing for a single moment to think of the implications of such an act, in such a world, of the potential dangerous inherent in it?

What I want you to do is to be honest with yourself. Eve have all the qualities you want in a woman: beauty, intelligence, and strength of character, and the two of you seem to have the right chemistry. And you noticed that last night, didn’t you? And it simply terrified you, didn’t it? Admit it. You didn’t reject Eve because it was the wrong moment, you rejected her because she was the right woman. Admit it.

I couldn’t take this rubbish anymore, and so it happened, an outburst, an outburst against myself.

I rejected Eve, because of a lifetime spent in the pursuit of spiritual excellence and inner purity, of commitment to a disciplined way of life. I rejected Eve, because, while sexual conquest is not never an achievement, sexual discipline, in a forever sexually crazed world, is, and I shall protect that achievement with all the power within me that I can muster. Now, I may not have led a tortured existence, I may not have been raped, or molested, but I still have these walls within me, walls, the great majority of which I did not build, but which have, nonetheless, become important to me; for behind them I feel safe, and I am safe. I am not going to compromise this safety for what could be nothing  more than a passing whim. I am an atheist now, I know, and I am empty on the inside like never before, I know, but that does not mean I am going to let someone in that easily, if ever.

Now, would this be enough to confound Iblîs? But Iblîs, on that damned morning, was tougher than usual.

So what is it, then? Are you going to commit yourself to a celibate way of life, once and for all, or are you going to hide behind the arrogant hope that someone, such as Eve, might still think, or come to think, that you are precious enough to fight for?

Let me tell you what I am going to do, it was time for me to end this bloody charade, I am going to live my life not giving  a damn about what value others, whoever they are, are going to put on it. I just want to achieve one single thing of significance, at least, while it lasts, and then, I want to die, peacefully, violently, it does not matter, I just want to die.

“You know,” Thurayyâ said in a calm and thoughtful tone, as she sat beside me on the large couch in my quarters, “I had sex with few ‘Umars, ‘Amrs, and an ‘Umayrah, but I’ve never ever had sex with an ‘Ammar. In fact, you are the first ‘Ammar that I have ever met that aroused me. And what happens? You turn up to be an atheist who’s attached to his virginity. Now is that fair, I ask you? No, I say, it’s not fair, and frankly, I am not going to accept it.”

“And what do you intend to do about it?” I asked. “Rape me?”

“I can if I want to, I am pretty athletic as you can see, and you, well, physically speaking you’re a mess, a cute and attractive mess, but a mess, nonetheless. So, although I won’t rape you, I am going to have you. One of those days, when you least expect it, I’m going to make my move on you, and I’m going to make it impossible for you to say no. Because, I’m not Eve, I don’t take no for an answer, and I won’t respect your wishes, not when it comes to sex.”

“Well, thank you for making yourself clear on this point, Thurayyâ, I do appreciate it.” I said repaying Thurayyâ’s seductive smile with a smile of my own, a cold and indifferent smile that seemed to have irritated her.

Also, I noticed, in reference to the conversation I had with Iblîs this morning, that at least Thurayyâ was willing to fight for me, although, she seemed to be interested only in my mess of a body. But shouldn’t I have sensed danger in Thurayyâ’s words, and attitude? I should have. I really should have. But I didn’t.

“But for now,” I had to continue, “I have to ask you  few more  questions, if you don’t mind?” I was supposed to meet Eve for lunch in an hour, but that was time enough for me, I thought, to get some more information about this place. A place that remained as enigmatic as ever to me, despite all the straight answers that Eve had given me the night before.

“Answering newcomers’ questions has got to be the most boring task there is in this world. But...go ahead and ask, I’ll answer your questions.” Thurayyâ said these words as she leaned back on the couch and took a deep breath that almost caused her nipples to pierce through her thin creamy white T-shirt, and she kept it in for a minute while she gazed at me with her big brown baby eyes, then she released it with a large sigh, a shrug of her shoulders, and a bounce in her breasts.

I had to admit to myself, Thurayyâ was an artist, a beautiful and sexy artist, but... Aah, these ‘buts’ of yours are killing me. Well Iblîs, you old rascal, I didn’t know you cared> Blaah!

“Well, to be honest, I’m getting tired of these question-and- answer sessions myself, so let’s do it this way, shall we? I’ll tell you some of things that are bothering me, and you can respond to them in your own way, I’ll let Eve respond to the rest, agreed?” I got a nod of approval, coupled with a seductive smile that I ignored as I proceeded to give Thurayyâ the promised piece of my mind.

“I’ve noticed certain additional incongruities about this place, spatial and linguistic incongruities to be specific. For instance, when you look at Eve’s house from the outside, it looks like a small traditional Damascene house, too small, in fact, to contain my quarters alone, not to mention the rest of the house, a house that is really a palace, on the inside. The whole situation reminds me of a science fiction show that I used to watch in the normal world...”

“Doctor Who?” Thurayyâ interjected, and upon seeing the surprised expression on my face, she continued. “The steady supply of newcomers keeps us updated as to everything that happens on Earth. So we’ve heard of the literary genre of science fiction, and we’ve heard of the Doctor and his TARDIS, and, naturally, we did not fail to see the similarities between our houses and the TARDIS.

But, there is one major difference, though, our houses are not time-machines, and life here, therefore is not as interesting as it is in the Doctor’s universe. And by the way, if you like science fiction, the Doctor in particular, all you have to do is turn on your TV, and switch to the science fiction channel, it’s channel 42.”

The TV, but of course, the TV, I had a TV in my quarters, how come I hadn’t turned it on yet?

“Now as for the linguistic incongruities, you’re probably referring to the fact that Eve, as well as most people in the Sûq, speak in Arabic, while there supposed to exist here a mixture of races and ethnic groups. Well, the explanation for this is quite simple, Arabic, due to the intense lobbying of Muhammad, had been declared the official language of the Sûq centuries ago. It makes life much easier to be able to communicate in a common language, don’t you think?”

Frankly, I didn’t know what to think, this world continued to amaze me, and at a steady pace. And then something occurred to me.

“Who’s playing the role of the Doctor here?”

“Nowadays, it’s al-Fârâbî, the once famous Persian philosopher... What? What so funny about this?” Thurayyâ was referring to my sudden burst into uproarious laughter, a laughter that proved to be contagious. Finally...

“When is the show on anyway?”

“Wednesdays, at six in the evening, and again at midnight. So it’s on tomorrow, you can watch it after you have your first meeting. Are you ready for it?” Thurayyâ had a concerned look in her eyes, the mood was shifting, for both of us. But I wasn’t willing to be gloomy, I had enough of that this morning.

“Yes, I am, for both, the show and the meeting.” I tried to smile when I said these words, and I think, I must have succeeded, for Thurayyâ too was smiling, seductively, of course.

I met Eve in a garden, an indoor garden, lush and beautiful, just like Eve herself, don’t you think. Oh, give it up Iblîs.

“Excuse me?” Said Eve, as she assumed the lotus position on the lawn, near the field-sized artificial lake that stretched in the center of the garden. Today, she was in a modernistic mood, it seems, for she was dressing a la Thurayyâ, that is in a thin T-shirt, a black one, to be specific, and deep blue-jeans shorts. Her thighs looked divine. Iblîs was right about Eve, and about my attraction to her, it simply tore me apart to have her so close, yet, so... unapproachable. The walls, the bloody walls. Still...

“Nothing,” I said, Oomph, “I was just talking to myself. It’s an irritating habit really, but I don’t seem to be able to get rid of it.”

“Well, when you learn how,” said Eve, “teach me, I, too, need to learn this... skill.” Eve had a distant look in her eyes, an unfathomable yet enchanting look.

“You look like you are in a dreamy mood today, Eve.” I said. But Eve ignored my question, and instead...

“Are you hungry?” She asked me with a soft voice, and that voice, as well as her question itself, threw me completely off-guard, and I felt dizzy. It took very little to disorient me in this world, and I was beginning to hate it for that. And what did she exactly mean by “hungry?” Hungry for food? Hungry for sex? Hungry for companionship? Hungry for her, or Thurayyâ, or anyone who’s willing? What did she exactly mean?

These word games, sex games, mind games, eye games, these games within games, is that what they do here, play games all the time? I had to speak out, I had to know, I had to clear my mind before it exploded.

“Eve!” I said with a firm voice, ignoring Eve’s question as she had ignored mine. “I am tired, I am really tired. I am tired of this world, although I haven’t been here for long, and I am tired of these games that you and Thurayyâ keep playing with me, these mind games, these sex games, as if you’re trying to break me, as if I’m being interrogated. Oh, yes I know, I’m the one who’s been asking most of the questions, but with every answer you give me, things be- come even more ambiguous, and in the process, somehow, you always end up knowing more about me, than I know about you. Now, I am tired of this Eve. I want some straight answers. You already know the questions.”

As I spoke these words, Eve had her eyes closed, but when I was finished, she opened her eyes, and looked at me seriously for a long time, then she closed her eyes again and said:  “If you feel that I’m hiding things from you, you’re right, I’m hiding six thousand years worth of memories, and experiences, because I have no way to share them with you. I understand your frustration, but you need to try to understand mine, there are so many things that I want to tell you, that I need to tell you, because I don’t want to hide anything from you, but I can only tell them to you in bits and pieces. That is the only way, and you have to accept that. Now I want you to lie down and relax, and let me tell you several of those bits and pieces.”

I did what I was told without any arguments, Eve’s voice, in this occasion, had a hypnotic quality to it that I couldn’t resist. I simply couldn’t resist.

The first bit: “When you were brought to this place, and inspite of the superficial changes that Burâq had introduced in it, we were  hopeful that you might be able to shed some light upon the nature of this place, and the nature of our... Keepers, or Keeper. And although, you don’t seem to know anything about this place, you might still be...a tool, for the lack of a better word, that can be used to reveal to us few things about this place and its founders and keepers. This is only a possibility, a very remote possibility, but we have to consider it, if we truly desire to know where we are.

But, if you think that the reason for which we’re trying to determine the nature of this place is somehow related to a desire on our part to leave it, then you are most definitely wrong. We don’t want to leave this place, this place is our home, as much as the normal world used to be, and more.

We’re immortals here, and no matter how ugly our politics can sometimes get, they will always look ideal in comparison to the politics of the normal world. And should you say that this is a prison, well so is the normal world, but we’re treated much better here; and with the new knowledge that newcomers bring with them, our society does grow, and at a pace that compares favorably with that in the normal world. So there is no reason for us to want to leave here, ever.

Of course, there is always the possibility that your arrival signify the beginning of the end, and if that is so, then, there is nothing we can do about it. True, you can be killed since you arrived here alive, but no one would even think of doing this, for this could anger Burâq, and no one would risk doing that. The fear of Burâq is installed in the heart of every one who’s brought to this world. Had Burâq not consistently reminded us that he is not God, we could easily have believed in him as such.

As to why you’re involved in all this, why you were brought here by Burâq, I really don’t know, Ammar. I simply don’t. I guess that the only thing you can do here is to go to these meetings, and see what you can learn from them. That might help. I have to tell you, though, the people whose names are on the list, are not influential here, in this world. Now as to whether this fact is significant, once more, all I can say is: I don’t know.”

The second bit: “...and so,” Eve was speaking of her children, “they all joined different factions thousands of years ago, and never got together again, I don’t particularly miss them, or the times we had. They were times of trouble and indignity. Times when the Lilith in me was buried under the mounds of shame that God had heaped up within me upon Adam’s request, times of subservience and servitude. When I came to this world, and although, it proved to be a prison, much like earth had been, and the Garden before that, Lilith regained her freedom, and made an alliance with Eve, they taught each other a lot, but Lilith taught Eve more.

Still Eve was sad, for she wanted new children, and no children can be born in this world. Now Lilith was content with this fact, but she could not make Eve feel the same.

So one day, and as Eve slept, Lilith came upon her and raped her; she raped her, to break her, to weaken her, to merge with her, and a new woman can be born. And when that new woman was born, she decided to retain the name ‘Eve’ in honor of her memory, and because she understood the power that this name has in the mind of men and women.

Only two know of this story, I, and now, you.”

And as she said these last words, Eve stood up, took off her T-shirt, dropped her shorts, and walked over to me in the nude, and I couldn’t help but to stare. I stared at Eve’s naked body with worshipful eyes, and that frightened me, and angered me, but I had no time to discipline myself, for Eve had already knelt before me and kissed me softly on the lips, and whispered words in my ear, then she stood up again, and waded in the clear and quiet waters of the lake, and dove to the bottom with serpentine grace.

The third bit: “I am attracted to you ‘Ammar, you fascinate me. I don’t know why. But I have learned a lot about you, yesterday, and today. I learned through your answers to my questions, through your comments, through your silences, and your movements, and through the devices of a six thousand years old woman. I learned enough about you to know that you’re a man with many faults, you’re too proud, too ambitious, too obsessed, too afraid, and therefore, too alienated. And, for all this, I love you. And I’ll have know that a woman like me does not make this kind of confession easily, so they should not be taken lightly.”

Eve had her eyes open as she said these words, and I wished she’d close them, Eve had also assumed the lotus position again in front me, much closer than before, and she was naked, and wet. Touch her, damn it, kiss her, do something, and stop sitting and staring at her like a fool. And I did something, I build few more walls. (Why, you damned idi... Oomph)

“It doesn’t make any sense Eve,” I said, “that a woman like you, should be attracted to a man like me. It doesn’t make any sense at all.”

“It doesn’t make any sense to me either, but I don’t live by reason alone.” Eve was beckoning me with everything she had, and I was tempted, more tempted than I’ve ever been in my life. But...

“I know Eve,” I said through jolts of pain that kept running through me like demons, “I might be an atheist, but I still have faith. In me. I don’t think I can have faith in someone else. I don’t know whether I can deal with loss and failure in such matters, you know? Relationships. In our case, we know that I would be leaving this place, soon, How am I supposed to handle the loss?”

“You handle it by cherishing the memories.” Eve replied calmly. But the look in my eyes told her that I was a hopeless case, she stood up, and put her clothes back on.

The fourth bit: - and yes, despite what had transpired earlier, Eve and I kept on talking, came after dinner, because we’d forgotten about lunch. -

“I don’t know why Muhammad’s name is not on the list, and no, I don’t think I can arrange a meeting for you with him. He  had anticipated your request, and had made it quite clear to me that he would not be willing to meet you until you had met all the people on the list. Even then, he might still be unwilling to meet you, for as I told you, the people on the list are not influential here, and Muhammad might not want to be associated with them, for political reasons.”

“But they include Jesus and ‘Ayesha!” I pointed out.

“Well, as the famous hadîth¨ goes: glorified be He That changes at will what is within the hearts.”

After this, Eve shared with me many other bits and pieces, about local art and artists, about the TV schedule and sport programs, and about the use of the phones in this world, and as we talked, we somehow managed to smile again. But, Eve would surely handle the pain far better than I, she had thousands of years of training in this area, and a much tougher life.

“But they included Jesus and ‘Ayesha!” And with these thoughts, I went to sleep. Jesus would be the second person with whom I would have to meet, and ‘Ayesha the third. Tomorrow, however, was reserved for my meeting with Gilgâmesh. “Gilgâmesh...”

In my last two years in high school, I developed a passion for three things: astronomy, the science and the fiction, the music of Wagner, and the legend of Gilgâmesh. This passion consumed me heart and soul, I spent most of my time listening to the music of Wagner, and reading commentaries on the legend of Gilgâmesh, as well as textbooks in astronomy and related fields, and, of course, I followed religiously every science fiction series that aired   on both, the Syrian and the Jordanian TVs.

Naturally, I didn’t do well in school, despite the last ditch  attempts at memorization, and the private tutors retained by my parents. Still, when I graduated from high  school, I had high hopes for myself to go along with my mediocre grades, and my parents, strangely enough, were still willing to believe in me, and share in these hopes.   They didn’t know what they were getting themselves into. But even if they did, they would still have believed in me, because my parents loved me, they still do, these things happen in life, you know.  Lucky for me.

My post-high-school plans centered around my desire to become an astronomer, an astronomer who would write some science fiction novels on the side. And if I may say, this was a highly unusual career plan for a Syrian. Syria, after all had only one telescope, owned, and never operated, by a small Orthodox covenant in the small Christian village of Sîdnâyâ, where it is made conveniently inaccessible to even the few amateur astronomers that Syria has produced. Realities notwithstanding, I decided to study astronomy, and I decided to study it in the Soviet Union, which was, at the time, the greatest space-faring nation on earth having conducted the longest space missions ever.

Getting a visa to go to Moscow, however, would take a year, so my mother sent me to spend some months, during this interim period, in a small school, located in a small English village, to gain mastery of a language that was far more current than Russian.

Thus, an equation was born in my mind: a quaint English village on the English channel, plus, Wagnerian music, plus, intimate knowledge with every detail pertaining to the legend of Gilgâmesh, plus, familiarity with the basic concepts of planetary geology and astronomy, plus my creative genius, plus three months time, and a masterpiece should be born. Namely: a futuristic saga incorporating the basic themes of the legend of Gilgâmesh written in the epic grandeur of classical Arabic. Wonderful. Magnificent. Ingenious. This will be it: the greatest literary achievement of our time, the greatest literary achi... well, at the end of three months, I spoke English pretty well.   Like a Goddamn native, if you ask me.