NARA BRONNER
NARA BRONNER and THE SECRET SANDS OF TIME
AHMAD CHAMOUN Art by AMINA BERRY
1
AHMAD CHAMOUN
“When you...
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NARA BRONNER
NARA BRONNER and THE SECRET SANDS OF TIME
AHMAD CHAMOUN Art by AMINA BERRY
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AHMAD CHAMOUN
“When you arrive at the sea, you do not talk of the tributary.” (Hakim Sanai, The Walled Garden of Truth)
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…the whole intention is to provide a figure who cannot really be characterized, and who is timeless. It is the message, not the man, which is important to the Sufis. This has not prevented people from providing him with a spurious history, and even a tomb. Scholars, against whose pedantry in his stories Nasrudin frequently emerges triumphant, have even tried to take his Subtleties to pieces in the hope of finding appropriate biographical material. One of the 'discoveries' would have warmed the heart of Nasrudin himself. Nasrudin said that he considered himself upside down in this world, argues one scholar; and from this he infers that the supposed date of Nasrudin's death, on his 'tombstone,' should be read not as 386, but 683. Another professor feels that the Arabic numerals used would, if truly reversed, look more like the figures 274. He gravely records that a dervish to whom he appealed for aid in this "…merely said, 'Why not drop a spider in some ink and see what marks he makes in crawling out of it. This should give the correct date or show something.'" In fact, 386 means 300+80+6. Transposed into Arabic letters, this decodes as SH, W, F, which spells the word ShaWaF: 'to cause someone to see, to show a thing.' The dervish's spider would 'show' something, as he himself said. If we look at some of the classical Nasrudin stories in as detached a way as possible, we soon find that the wholly scholastic approach is the last one that the Sufi will allow: Nasrudin, ferrying a pedant across a piece of rough water, said something ungrammatical to him. 'Have you never studies grammar? Asked the scholar. 'No.' 'Then half of your life has been wasted.' A few minutes later Nasrudin turned to the passenger. 'Have you ever learned to swim?' 'No. Why?' 'Then all your life is wasted-we are sinking!' This emphasis upon Sufism as a practical activity, denying that the formal intellect can arrive at truth, and that pattern-thinking derived from the familiar world can be applied to true reality, which moves in another dimension. From ‘The Sufis’ by Idris Shah
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Leaving Home
8th of February 2003 After a night of splendid feast Nora and her father Jack are drinking tea in the kitchen. Father is reading books and Nora is sitting on a book stool. Already feeling the effects of the strong and fragrant tea, Nora jumps off the book stool and shouts, “Father!” Her father raises his head. “Take me to the observatory so we can look at the lunar eclipse together, ” Nora demands. Even though it’s their last night together her father refuses. “That would be a nice view indeed, but sadly it's way too cold tonight, you’re going to have to just use the telescope beside the window.” “But I'm not afraid of the cold! ” Jack tells himself that accepting his promotion overseas is necessary to better serve NASA. But Nora knows that he is leaving because he can’t stand it there. Living in that house reminds him too much of Nora’s step mother Helen who had recently passed away. No matter what he says Nora knows in her heart that he is going overseas to bring her real mother back. Jack drops his book and says, “Since when has sincerity defended one against the cold!”
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NARA BRONNER This time Nora raises a fit and shouts, “Watching the lunar eclipse is one of the most resplendent, most significant, most poetic events in life.” Jack nods and says, “Naturally that is the truth.” Before slouching deeper into the couch, gasping for air as if preparing for a long-winded speech, and they both lose themselves in recollection. Nora finally stands up and says, “I want to be like the moon a carrier of a great multitude's plans, expectations, and feelings. A reminder that even a hunk of rock can never succeed at closing itself off from the world of experience. A reminder that we can never truly succeed in escaping from this world.” Jack smiles and nods. Nora continues, “Leaving the family to escape the past is something I would never let you do unless I knew the real reason. Besides I’m already twenty one and you don’t have to worry about me, after-all the burden is on the youth to develop themselves to meet their full potential.” Jack is all smiles. In the face of silence, Nora courageously works up to her point, that she knows the real reason of her father plan to leave. “The blood lunar eclipse is romantic indeed, if only mother was here she would make sure we all went out to see it together properly.” Then before giving Jack a chance to deny what she knows to be true, Nora reaches for the piece of paper stuffed away in her pocket. “But Nora, you know that isn’t..” 7
AHMAD CHAMOUN “Shhhh,” Nora interrupts him, before beginning to read the goodbye that she has prepared. “A lunar eclipse is an eclipse of light. The red rays scatter amongst the countless stars of outer space, giving freely all sorts of blessings to those who can wait, their passage symbolizes the fortune attained by struggling to overcome life's temptations. Their purpose merges with one of higher meaning, much like a drop of water is in relation to the rest of the sea, or a single ray of light to the night sky. In relation to this sea of memory those who properly observe this ritual also receive a portion of its bounty: Letting the red rays of the moon overwhelm their senses and evoke refreshing memories, enabling them to relive the best and most inspirational parts of their lives and destinies.” Jack, fights back his laughter and says, “It appears as if the feeling of broaching upon sheer immensity and the purity and sacrifice which is required to navigate outer space, has completely penetrated the hearts and minds of not only me and my crew at NASA, but of my daughter as well.” Not taking kindly to his demeaning tone Nora quickly says, “What sacrifice? When I am looking through the lenses of the telescope I feel the loftiest sensation of gratitude, bravery, and invigoration swell from within me as if I am being carried along with the gentle billowing waves of light, lifting me onto the backs of all the satellites gliding through space, carrying me until I have reached a place that is unmatched anywhere else in the 8
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world, the amalgamation of perception finally bursting forth from within me, like a mountain of water, causing the entire world, that pale blue dot, to lower its gaze and bow its head and clasp its hands, starring reverently at the shimmering light emanating from the mist! That is truly awesome, consoling, and guiding, the stuff that fuels my drive and passion.” Jack’s only response is to recite some poems and recollections from his early NASA days. “Clear blue sky and still waters, moving the telescope away, watching the reflection of the stars reverberate throughout the water.” “Dark and rainy sky, watching the streaks on the glass, hearing the rustling leaves. Shut myself in to read, read the data, so the sea can be my teacher, and the stars in the night sky my friends, and my source of good company will never ever come to an end.” “After many weeks of crunching numbers, I've still not yet stopped receiving the world's news like evading a promise or never understanding the truth of a situation, placed me in this predicament, an anomaly or the laws of Physics rewritten? Another golden opportunity to reflect on our lives as if looking into the very waters of our essence. During this tranquil time I'm never more connected to the world, even if I happen to be alone in outer space.” Jack pauses and with a big smile says: “Yes the life of a space traveler is as magnificent, as refined and cultured, as perhaps the life of the man on the moon 9
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himself. And while surely your descriptions have done justice, there are still a great many things besides beauty which require a great deal of sacrifice, things which a young lady like yourself, is still too young to understand. What would you do for example, if one day you caught space sickness?” Nora laughs his question off by saying, “Space sickness? Is that even real?” Jack explains “It is absolutely very real. That’s when we need to remind ourselves that overcoming that sickness is what makes us astronauts.” Nora interrupts, “As I said this sort of lifestyle ought to be grand.” Father and daughter continue to exchange smiles, “Look” he says, “I know you want to explore outer space like your father once did, but if work calls you must be ready to abandon whatever you are doing at a moment’s notice. Afterall you know very well that I speak from experience!” “That terrible incident, and mom leaving us, was all so that we could have this chance,” Nora begins in a heavy tone of voice. Jack is speechless. Then after a long period of silence jokes, “If you came out a boy, you would have made for a splendid son.” Taking a step forward Nora says, “ Don’t bother coming back unless mom comes back with you, and if you don’t I will dedicate my entire life to making it to space, even though we both know that I am already “space-sick”
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so bring mom back or else.. Sure you can handle space, but can you handle that?” Jack stares at Nora and says, “Perhaps.. But why must you speak of things in such a heavy tone?” Jack grins and, thinking deeply as he flips the pages of the book in front of him, finally closes his book and says, “I have never been unsuccessful, I have never not handled any situation. As for leaving earth behind, I wish the best for my only daughter, that she will reach her island of light. But the truth is—— life in this house alone is truly not suited for my daughter.” Nora’s grin only widens. She gets up and sits on the opposite side of her father allowing silence to once again overtake them. As if from habit, Jack stands up and tries to comfort her with some deep words: “Grand stillness and tranquility which brings joy to our lives needn't stop or start at observing any eclipse or astrological phenomena, for the range of human experience is truly as vast as outer space which you wish to explore.” This time Nora doesn’t reply, after sitting for a bit she gets up to gaze out the window. Great-great-grandpa Ron is still at work, walking through the courtyard guided by a small lantern, even at his age the cold is not enough to keep him inside. Occasionally he stops and with a wave of his lantern beckons Nora to join him. Nora waves and smiles but is in no way in the mood to do so. “But grandpa Ron is outside and he’s over one hundred!” Nora protests.
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AHMAD CHAMOUN “Didn’t we go over this already? Great-great-grandpa Ron is here to make sure things go ok. I know you two have never met but besides your mother he’s the only family we got left. You make sure you listen to every word he says.” Nora closes the subject. Ron is after all the only reason Jack agreed to let her stay in his Virginia home alone. Ron even left England and retired in the United States so that he could look after her. It is time for Jack to leave. Even at his age, grandpa Ron could still see well enough to drive Jack to the airport in the dead of night.
Two 3rd of May 2003 FOR A MAN OF OVER a hundred years old great-great-grandpa Ron sure knew how to party. “The secret to a good dance is a pure mind!” he said before downing yet another cup of tea. “Prince of Wales tea, can’t find this anywhere else.” And in a split-second his stash of authentic English teas made him the party’s favorite. It was Nora’s graduation party. She had just graduated from UofV with honors in both biology and computer science. Ron was very proud, if not too preoccupied to 12
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show it, securing dances from Nora’s barely legal friends was easier than he had thought possible. He was beginning to like the 21st century after all. To her surprise, Ron not only supported her idea for a party, he even agreed to keep it secret from Jack. “Your father must have known what he was getting into when he asked me to babysit you!” Ron cried out with a near hysterical laugh. Nora was visibly annoyed, but decided to go along with it, after all great-great-grandpa Ron was willing to give her much more freedom than her father ever was. Taking Tom, her college sweetheart by the hand, the two went up unnoticed to her bedroom.
Nora is completely overtaken by darkness. That night she did not see a single shred of green in any of her dreams, instead she was comforted by the emanations of sound stemming from conversations which should have but never had taken place. Nora—by Successfully remembering enough to bring the memory back to life as if entering a dream— could profit off the wanderings of her imagination enough to ingrain the most serene picturesque landscapes forever in her memory, like soft sparkling water brushing up against a pure white shore..
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For the sake of preserving the tranquility of that night she did not wish to endure another recollection of memories. It had been four weeks since Nora and her father had their conversation and deep contemplations. Nora did not, naturally and without saying, see the lunar eclipse but even if she didn't see it for another twenty years she still wouldn’t mind.
Three Early Summer, 2003 NO MATTER what he tried, Ron couldn’t get Nora to stop crying. “What is it?” He asked, over and over. But Nora wouldn’t say. Finally, the pregnancy test in the trash caught Ron’s eye. Ron was unable to contain his excitement. “You’re pregnant!” he blurted out. At first Ron’s unfiltered speech upset Nora even more. And yet there was something contagious about Ron’s humorous outlook. Nora’s gloomy mood was soon replaced by curiosity. Here was great-great-grandfather Ron a product of a much more conservative generation, and yet he didn’t seem to care that she was pregnant outside of wedlock. All she could think about was getting an abortion.
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NARA BRONNER As if reading her mind, Ron said, “I saw that Tom that you were with at the party, in fact I had the pleasure of talking a bit with him, and I know it in my bones that he will be a great father!” “But I couldn’t possibly tell him!” she said. “It doesn’t matter Nora. Whether or not you are ready to tell Tom is your business, but we absolutely have to tell your father Jack.” Ron said as he reached for the phone. “No don’t.” Nora said as she snatched the phone out of her ancestor’s shriveled hand. “Please stop!!” An awkward silence ensued. Ron himself was not completely unhappy with Tom’s timing. Being unsure how much more life he himself would be granted, a part of Ron was actually glad Nora was pregnant while he was still alive. Even though Ron did not share the stereotypes of his generation, he did share that desire to live as long as possible so long as that meant that he could see his great-great-great-grandchildren grow. After feigning consideration grandpa Ron openly conceded. “I promise to keep your secret,” he began with a grin, “So long as you promise to keep mine.”
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Four AT FIRST life in his great-grandson's Virginia home had reinvigorated Ron. Not to mention that in nearly every one of his great-great-granddaughter’s girlfriends he saw a woman that he had known from his past. It happened so often and vividly that more than once he had to catch his tongue and prevent himself from calling one of the young ladies by a different name. But now that Nora had had her wakeup-call the parties were over, and Ron was once again thrown back into the world of the past and a struggling immune system. Getting up from his room, Ron first made sure that Nora was asleep, then, when he felt that there was enough privacy he reread his brother’s letter for at least the thousandth time. For Ron the memory was as bitter-sweet as the first. Hardly any time had passed without Ron saying a prayer for his brother. Letting out a great sigh he went over the letter his brother had sent him yet again. It had all started with the impending Chinese ban on open access to foreigners to the cities of Hotan, Kashgar and Yarkand as well as the villages surrounding the Taklimakan Desert. Nearly everyone whom Ron had met and known from his earlier expedition had been swept along with a massive last-second spread of hysteria.
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Soon the dunes were filled with swarms of European explorers rushing to retrieve the priceless riches which had still eluded their discovery. Soon the Chinese would have a complete monopoly on the findings, and because of this it was a complete free-for-all with everyone scrambling to get in on the final opportunity.
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Ron was just about to put the letter away, when the door to his study opened suddenly. 19
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Nora walked in. It was the first time in the few months that Ron was there that she took an active interest in what her ancestor was up to. Ron, in tears, was unwilling to resist her advance. “Grandpa are you ok?” Nora asked as she glanced over her ancestor’s ancient document. “Yes I know,” Ron said almost incoherently as he continued wiping away his tears, “He would eventually die in his cell at the hands of the Nazis…But that wasn’t until sometime later,” Ron quickly said upon realizing how the truth had brought immense pain onto Nora’s face. “Well what happened next?” Nora asked intensely curious.
Five Late Autumn 1919 THE VAST WASTELAND of the Taklimakan Desert had come back to haunt him yet again but Ron R. Bronner wasn’t surprised. For the last two years he had already acknowledged that sooner or later he would have to return. Although the expedition he had taken five years before had, before even hitting the age of 20, made Ron one of the richest men in all of England the thought of the Taklimakan Desert still elicited negative emotions.
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Being a prodigy of sorts, Ron had become fluent in five of the world’s major languages by the age of fourteen. After having denied the advances of countless merchants who were intent on utilizing his talents for their expeditions, Ron was eventually commanded by the Queen of England herself to partake in a special expedition of the Taklimakan Desert. The Taklimakan Desert had been officially discovered just a few months before Ron was born. Since then, the treasure had remained elusive and there always seemed to be a recent find that was unlike anything ever seen before. In fact, Ron’s team had proved to be one of the luckiest ones. In just a few months they had discovered many priceless artifacts. Ron knew that they could attribute their success to Chief Sighur. The, at first unnoticed, Uighar who had come in useful as their local guide. He had never before served as a guide to any European or American expedition. What it was exactly that had made Chief Sighur so lucky however was beyond even their wildest imagination. All had been going well until the day of the accident. The thought of Chief Sighur drew out the memory of the accident, and the event instantly replayed in Ron’s mind for the millionth time. The contraption concealed for millennium had suddenly sprung to life. Clicking away in his brain like a mental camera, it clouded his vision, but not by enough to prevent him from seeing half of his team fall to their deaths. He understood the tone of the letter, he understood that his brother Richard must truly be in danger to request 21
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him to return to the treacherous wastelands of the Taklimakan Desert. Now with the impending Chinese ban on open access to foreigners, Richard must have been easily swept along with the massive last second effort by European explorers to get whatever priceless treasure was perceived to be left.
Six 3rd of December 1919 AFTER RON had finished the expedition that the Queen commanded him he politely made it known that it would be his last. Since then Richard had constantly been approached by those who had known or heard of Ron’s skills. Even though Richard lacked his brother’s skills entirely, the excitement which the chase provided was as deceptive as a mirage in the Taklimakan. The desert wasn’t just dangerous but enchanting and both brothers knew its unique characteristics well: the ever-shifting dunes filled to the brim with desert rabbits, and even tigers, multiple rivers and empty valleys where water used to run was now replaced instead by the endless flow of wind-borne sand. 22
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Although famous for being a source of rare treasure that had been flooding into Europe for the last 19 years since its official discovery in 1900, the Taklimakan Desert was far from being adequately explored and studied. Santa Claus himself could not have hoped to ask for a better source of treasure. Then from the sprawling Dunes of the Taklimakan Ron spotted Chief Sighur, 38th descendant of the guardian of the treasure of the Silk Road, approach. The men moved swiftly along in every direction, like the small wind-born grains of sand which scattered about everywhere; reducing visibility to the point of making this part of the Taklimakan nearly impassable, and absolutely lethal. Buried deep in the sand, were the remains of the losers of extremely vicious hand-to-hand fighting that Chief Sighur’s ancestors had glorified for generations. As always the men were not just heavily outfitted for battle, but also excavation. Mounted on his Arabian steed was Chief Sighur, surrounded by four members of his elite guard. In a bid to protect themselves from the incessant pelting sand, each man was tightly wrapped from head-to-toe. Ron and the Chief greeted in Arabic as they always had. “As-Salam-Alakum.” “Wa-Alakum Asalam.” “Mat khaf Ron, do not worry about Richard,” Chief Sighur said after noticing that Ron was beside himself with worry.
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The jubilant look worn by the Chief made Ron think that he had a sure-fire way of getting Richard out safely. Ron was not without friends here, for he was one of the first Westerners well versed enough in the unique backdrop of the Uighur culture who also happened to be bold enough to risk his life. Because of his pivotal role, many members of his team owed their lives to him in one way or another. Having been so well acquainted, Chief Sighur greatly admired Ron’s handle on the two languages most dear to him: Chinese and Arabic. Unfortunately for Ron though the Chief always seemed to linger on and on about this point in conversation. This time, even though Ron was under the impression that Richard was in jail and that time was of the essence, Chief Sighur didn’t waste a second picking up on a conversation the two had left off almost exactly six years ago. “My ancestors always had a hard time learning Arabic, to learn they made special use of the Abjad system brought to them by Arabic traders. They were convinced that the language could be learned in a certain order thereby greatly enhancing the speed of acquisition. Furthermore, some of them believed that by learning the language in such a way one would be unlocking the consciousness of its ancestors, giving them the upper hand in any and all negotiations.” Ron nodded. He still recalled how Chief Sighur wished to develop a method for teaching multiple languages so that he could unite the areas disparate people in a swift manner. Doing this has required its own 24
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calculus, and a single error of tongue could create a climate of hostility for an entire generation. “You once asked me Ron if I had the motivation, and I told you that I always will. But now it is you who has forgotten.” “Forgotten what?” Ron asked. “Well of course, the ancient Hakim Mechanism!” Chief Sighur exclaimed. Ron remembered the Legend well, but he didn’t speak, preferring the heightening sound of the approaching sandstorm to the highly speculative conversation he knew the Chief was waiting to have. Closing his eyes Ron relished the story briefly in his mind. It is related that the Chinese Emperor sent an embassy to Hakim Sanai. Sanai refused, saying that he would not ‘send his wisdom for the edification and study of the scholars’ yet after much debate he agreed to send some of his teachings. He sent them twelve propositions, six walking sticks, three embroidered caps and one engraved stone. The condition was that after three years the Chinese scholars would investigate and report their findings to him. The Emperor had requested what he was not ready for, and soon the knowledge was used as a pretense for oppression and subjection throughout his domain. The Hakim was proved right, and the decision to refrain from sharing such knowledge to those deemed unworthy was made. Finally, on the Emperor’s final request, the logic behind Hakim’s failure was explained. In a sealed letter to 25
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the Emperor Hakim explained that he had failed not because he lacked the motivation to share knowledge, but rather because he, despite his greatest efforts and intentions, was simply not capable of doing what the great Emperor had asked. Seventy-two variations comprised the main components of the mechanism. Derived from twelve branches each symbolizing one of the days of the week, the system also shared a huge similarity with those of the Monotheistic faiths. The last day of the week was left out in the factoring as a period of rest and celebration of divinity. Yet for some Uighurs such as Chief Sighur the number seventy-two had a special meaning not just in one cultural sense but in two. Chief Sigher being the Sufi that he was prized the number seventy-two as being the number of main paths that man can take to unlock his hidden inner potential. “Chief Sighur you are both utterly ahead and behind your time.” Ron said, obviously not in a mood for conversation about highly speculative topics let alone preposterous myths at such a stressful time.. He didn’t completely mean what he said, Ron knew that Chief Sighur was ahead of his time. Both knew who the better man was, and both men conceded that they could never wish to have the tools at their disposal to fully accomplish their individual, let alone shared goals. It was just when Ron’s feeling of annoyance was replaced by a great feeling of respect for the Chief that he heard a familiar voice coming from one of the hooded men behind him. 26
NARA BRONNER “Yes err ... Utterly foolish of you to be so… Err Behind.” Turning around Ron faced the voice that he knew right away to be Richards. “Richard! Richard! Your free, your alive!!” Ron exclaimed. “Merry Christmas in advance Ron!” And in a single gesture, Richard, who had skillfully disguised his appearance, threw off his disguise and dismounted. Immediately Ron felt a pang in his gut, the thought that the entire thing had been about Richard’s treasure hunt made the brother appear to be selfish. Right when he was about to lash out, Richard took out a complex diagram of the Taklimakan dunes. Knowing that Ron, regardless of anything that could possibly happen, was always a sucker for a math problem, he immediately diffused the situation. “Ron, before making any judgments you owe me a chance to give you an explanation.” “Very well,” Ron said. In my hand is a guide to the weather patterns of the Taklamakan Desert, an original invaluable guide that NONE of the other treasure hunters have. But it is incomplete, and we need your help. Looking at the diagram, Ron was intrigued. “You mean to tell me that you can predict the patterns of sandstorms and desert vortexes and use that knowledge to excavate treasure others might have missed?”
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AHMAD CHAMOUN “Exactly,” Richard said. “Using a multivariate lunar calculation, the Chief claims that he is able to do so.” “So that’s what this is all about,” Ron snapped at Richard, “His stupid tribal lunar theory!” Ron said as he pointed an accusatory finger at the Chief without even bothering to turn to face him. “Ron you must consider it,” the Chief said. But Ron, unlike Richard, had already heard of this idea during the last expedition and the Chief’s miscalculation had been exactly what put them in danger and caused the accident. “And what’s in it for you,” Ron said angrily as he finally turned to face the Chief. “Here the dunes shift all the time. In fact, legend has it that buried deep in the Taklimakan Desert is the key to the Treasure of the Sands of Time itself, the Treasure of all treasures.” “Mere Superstition!” Ron said. “Just look at this desert and what do you see,” the Chief continued. “I see nothing but sand.” Then look at this, the Chief said as he handed Ron a bundle of calculations, diagrams and maps. In truth Ron didn’t have a choice, if he turned around he would surely be slayed by desert bandits. The only thing left for him to do was to trust his brother and the Chief. That night at camp Ron did the calculations that the men had asked. Meanwhile the Chief continued his exposition from earlier that day. 28
NARA BRONNER “It is fascinating how those who were tasked to bury the treasure went to such great lengths to protect it. No tool that your men can ever bring can move a dune of sand,” the Chief said while pointing to the massive swarms of European explorers in the distance. “The Desert will always know how to hide its secrets… For Let me tell you,” the Chief said with a sigh, “This mystery and treasure hunt has been in my family for generations.”
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Seven 1919 Christmas Eve “WAKE UP RON! You have to see this!” “Is that a Santa costume!?” Ron said laughingly as the sight of the Chief’s bright red gown made its way to his retinas. “HOW DARE YOU INSULT THE TRIBAL GOWN OF MY ANCESTORS YOU BARBARIAN FOOL!!” the Chief bellowed at the top of his lungs. The brothers laughed but were at a complete loss to make a true appreciation of the situation. Just like Santa had his reindeer, Chief Sighur had his own crew of submissive creatures: a fleet of desert eagles strong enough to kill a man on the orders of their master, yet agile and swift enough to send messages and provide information about the terrain and any possible approaching enemy. Ron’s calculations were vital. Chief Sighur was dawning the red robe of his ancestors, and in truth, Ron had fouled when he dishonored the ancestors whose skilled method of training had even made that moment possible. So much of the information of the calculations relied on the calling mechanism they had devised and the formulas for making sense of the birds’ flight times and routines. 31
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Ron was nervous that he had made the wrong calculations, but upon the Chief’s insistence he relented in his request for more time for a recalculation. “On this day the passage will open, and a miracle will be displayed for those with the knowledge of the workings of the Sands of Time!” the Chief proudly proclaimed. Many had ventured into the ruins of the Taklamakan Desert, but few returned with their lives. Here in the waste land were the remnants of failed Muslim, Mongolian and later English and even Afghani conquests. The eagle came back again, this time much sooner. Its wings covered in bloody sand from the nearby sandstorms. “This way!” the chief exclaimed as he led the brothers ever further into the desert’s wasteland.
Eight CHRISTMAS DAY THAT YEAR was exactly 1881 days since that of Ron’s accident, The Chief thought as he privately went over the facts and necessities of the day. He knew that only a fraction of his original sample would make it to its destination. As for the brothers, one second they were cracking follow-the-leader Santa jokes and the next they were squinting and straining to follow the Chief. 32
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Ron was desperate to tell the Chief that he felt his calculations had not been right, but it was impossible to get close enough to talk. What Ron didn’t know was that the Chief already knew that Ron’s calculations were correct because he had in fact already calculated those months before. Soon the desert became as obscure as the Chief’s motives. At times the only visible sign of the man had been the red robe the two had been so quick to mock. Turn after turn, they made their way through a maze of sand that was coming closer and closer. There was no time to complain or protest. In the back of their minds the brothers knew that one wrong turn and they would be buried beneath the shifting sand dunes for decades. Ron could bear it no more, his brother had risked his life over some silly treasure hunt, and now both of their lives were in the Chief’s hands. The pace of the sandstorms picked up. Finally, when Ron thought he couldn’t continue, even for another pace, the Chief came to a quick and sudden stop. From every direction the desert vortex was converging on the very point which the men stood. Just then the sun went out and the men were dazzled by the sight of the blood moon eclipse of the century beaming in the distance. Not only did their situation look completely hopeless but it was also apparently cursed. “BE BRAVE,” the Chief cried out!
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But Ron couldn't hear him, suddenly the men felt themselves gently lifted up into the air. A split of a brief prelude of weightlessness, followed by a harrowing fall through the sealed entrance of the labyrinth that the storms’ intersecting trajectory had just opened for them. Ron’s mind immediately reverted to the memory of the last expeditions accident. He was sure he would be dead, but when the large thud ensued each man realized that their lives were spared, for the fall was completely cushioned by an expertly placed mound of sand. The Chief lit his lantern and let go a huge sigh of relief. Surrounding them was treasure as far as the eye could see. Jumping up and down in joy, Ron and Richard immediately went to take a better look, the Chief however was busy weighing the sand outside the door. “Only 15% error,” he exclaimed before falling deep into meditation.
Nine 1920 New Year’s Eve. AFTER PACKING AWAY the most valuable of the treasures the two brothers were elated. The Chief however became more and more downcast. Ron could relate, after all finding the treasure was just as difficult as making sure that one hauled it off 34
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properly without being killed by bandits or other exploring teams. But even after the spoils were divided and carried away by trusted associates, each man having received a fortune, the Chief remained downcast. And while Ron tried to figure out why, the Chief seemed to find a way to always avoid giving him an honest answer. Before long it was time for the brothers to depart. When Richard was in his tent packing his last few things, the Chief took advantage of the opportunity to speak with Ron in private. “Ron, after deep meditation and contemplation, I along with the rest of the Wise Ones have come to the conclusion that there is no other way but for you to take this,” he said thrusting a wooden case into his arms. “Do not open it until you return home, and show it to NOONE, not even your brother Richard.” Ron did what he was told. In his experience it was not fruitful to question the motives of the Chief. At that the two exchanged goodbyes and within the hour the brothers had set off. The Chief had a habit of always getting the last word, and although the sand obscured the image of his fading figure, the brothers still heard his voice ring out loud and clear. “The sign of a good horde of treasure is that it leads to another and yet another!”
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Ten Summer 2003 During those summer nights, Ron told Nora stories she could have never dreamed of. Nora would not have believed a single one had it not been for Ron’s habit of saving letters. “Well, what did the Chief's letter say?” She asked Ron impatiently. Ron looked at his great-great-granddaughter deep in her eyes and then nodded to himself as if he had made his decision. “Why don’t you open it and see for yourself!”
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Upon finishing the letter Nora closely examined the fine particles of sand still in the envelope.
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NARA BRONNER “You mean to tell me that the Chief tracked these very particles all the way throughout the entire desert for five years?” “Yes for the experiment we used a distinct nonnative sand from the Jeita Labyrinth of Lebanon.” “And what about the treasure, the reference for a cure for cancer and to your later age?” “Aha most of his claims were impossible! Although I too have often debated them with myself a few more times than I’d like to admit,” Ron said. “Even though the Chief was able to guide us to one of the most valuable treasures ever found in the Taklamakan Desert, he was also a man of intense superstition. Therefore, objectively speaking it is impossible for me to accept his claims as true. Besides even if the Chief claimed that he could keep track of changes that had happened over the centuries, and predict the future location and outcome of singularities. Perhaps some other unexplained mechanism was at work. For example maybe a natural geological process in the particles changed the chemistry of the sand and was instead responsible for the values that he recorded.” “But he predicted the World Wars, and even described cancer before its official discovery,” Nora stammered. “Sure, he was way ahead of his time. But every genius has a little bit of crazy in them. Besides when it came to that bit of sand, how do I know that he didn’t 39
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make up the entire thing, or otherwise imagine it? You see Nora, it was probably just a trick to gain support for his people at a dangerous time, and he was quite successful, nonetheless I have kept it secret until now, and perhaps that is why I have cheated death!” Whether or not the whole thing was true, Nora was hooked. A nice puzzle was just what she needed to take her mind off of her current dilemma.
Eleven 4th of July 2003 WHILE RON was busy watching the annual fireworks, Nora fervently went through her progenitor’s ancient horde of letters and documents. Unfortunately, and to Nora’s disappointment, Ron’s “ancient horde of treasure documents” was exceedingly dry. It was from a time too far removed from hers to make much use of and soon she had convinced herself that it was no use. Sooner or later she would have to glean more information from Ron himself. Just then, out of the corner of her eyes, she got sight of a picture of a handsome middle-aged Ron. 40
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Ron grinning from ear to ear, was holding a huge check for a lump sum of $1,000,000. On the top left of the picture, immediately above Ron’s million dollar grin, was an arrow pointing to the opposite side of the picture. After flipping it over she struggled to translate the Arabic calligraphy.
SOF (see) the SUK(market) but SUM(fast)? She thought she read. Hearing Ron come up the stairs, Nora quickly put away the photograph without having a chance to finish reading it, or even confirm what she read. But she was too late and as she made her way out of the bedroom Ron appeared. “You haven't been in that room going through my stuff, have you?” he asked. Nora was too flustered to speak. “It’s OK if you were, you can admit it,” Ron continued after Nora still failed to provide an answer, “Well then, since you have no objections, there’s something important which I think you should know that relates to that letter... Some years after I returned home I pawned that treasure to pay for ….” “The Chief’s treasure?” Nora interrupted. “Yes, the Chief’s very own treasure. Someplace somewhere there is another copy, but the museum didn’t 41
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know that and so I thought it would be best to be the first person to sell.” He said with a twinkle in his eye. “Well what exactly is it?” “It’s a poem, a series of monographs, brilliantly illuminated in golden calligraphy. Here is a photograph. The one you were looking at right before I interrupted you,” he said perceptively. “And those words written on the back of the photograph I call my million-dollar words. The few words that were actually well preserved enough to be read.” “Yes, look carefully because those words made us rich!!” Ron continued. Nora looked in awe at the picture, pretending it to be for the first time. “You’ve got to be kidding me! Are you sure these are it?” Nora said beginning to feel as if Ron were playing a trick on her.
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A starving market that fasts on sausage, only sets itself hostage. Punishing its daughters, burying them alive to redden the rot. Freezing, blind, deaf then dead, but in its sick mind, alive, victorious and strong. “This rubbish made us rich!” Nora said unable to contain her disbelief. “Ahh that’s because you don’t know your history,” Ron said. “The ancient Arabs used to bury their daughters alive,” he continued. “It means that the author lived in a time where this was widespread and wrote against it. It was a time of intense inequality and suffering.” “Great-great-granddad can I keep this?” “Yes and memorize it if you must!!” Nora was mesmerized. But something wasn’t quite right. In the back of her mind the Chief’s words continued to flow. “You are rich, but do not let that deceive you, for the means to solve this mystery will not be available until the latest years of your life.”
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Twelve Late Summer of 2003 IT WAS OBVIOUS that the poem was some sort of riddle and Nora was intent to solve it. The only problem was that Nora had less than a year to solve a mystery that had taken Ron almost a hundred. Fortunately, Nora was an expert in computers and code. Having double-majored in Biology and Computer Science, she had written up highly original code before. Already some of the programs which she had developed were being used on the internet. Her area of specialty was the mathematics of language. Right away, she knew how to break each phrase into its mathematical components. And yet the simple poem proved extremely difficult to decipher. Luckily Tom was over to help motivate her. He had been coming to see her more and more and was even joking about getting married soon (he still couldn’t tell she was pregnant). Nora was, on the other hand (more and more) leaning toward having an abortion. Usually she would have given up on such a difficult math problem but with life growing inside of her, and Tom just sitting there clueless, she was desperate to get her mind off the situation. All the while she kept reverting 45
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back to that one single thought: Tom would have to be told about her pregnancy soon or else he would flat out come to that conclusion for himself. And what if she decided to get an abortion? “What are you working on over there?” Tom asked from across the room. “I’m trying to decipher this riddle,” Nora said after a brief pause. “Well you’re not going to get anywhere like that!” Tom said disapprovingly, “At least try to use Sha-256 first.” Sha-256 had been developed by the NSA in order to strengthen cyber networks and help prevent future terrorist attacks. Nora had heard of and implemented the algorithm before, but had never bothered to research it much. Even though it wasn’t the first time Tom brought up Sha-256 (he had taken a keen interest in it during their class projects) she was still baffled by his suggestion. “How does a poem have anything to do with Sha-256?” she asked. “Look I don’t want to sound like a conspiracy theorist or, worse, a racist, but ever since terrorists took down the towers the NSA along with its sister organizations has been working around the clock to decode any and every important communication sent in Arabic.”
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NARA BRONNER “I still don’t understand what that has to do with it,” Nora said perplexedly. “How many times do I have to explain it to you!?” Tom said. “Sha-256 it was invented after a series of experiments on the superimposition of crystal electronic states bombarded with a high energy laser, as such it can be used to decode quantum states, and human means of communication are no match.” Tom explained. Soon it would be used over the entire Internet. Over the next few days Nora took Tom’s suggestion seriously. Before she could get Sha256 to work she had to translate the input and the process proved much more difficult than she had imagined.
Sof al-Souk bas Sum 386 166 106 “I see the (entire) market, but I must refrain.” Nora’s intuition told her that the cryptic phrase held an important piece of a puzzle. What stuck out to Nora the most was that each of the words in the puzzle, could be represented by 6s.
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Then, typing almost as fast as the numbers came into her head, Nora whipped up a huge block of code.
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By taking the phrase and implementing it as a mathematical relation she was able to transpose it geometrically into code.
The code was beyond weird. 666, Nora thought. She couldn’t have known it, but coincidently, Nora’s code was very similar to one already being used by Russian hackers and known on the internet as the 666 virus. “Interesting,” Nora said to herself after copy and pasting the triangle for the word sight just over six dozen (seventy-two) times.
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Unmodified 0e00007e8e80675b2f02e2aae1d27524643e0aa0c5a4a77a29c92a096eeb32e2
With the main pyramid complete all that was needed was to revoke the original state of the program. Then it was time to manipulate the mini triangles. Just then she realized that the mathematical value of her name itself is 256. (How could she have overlooked this algorithm for so long?)
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=ر200 =ن50
و
=6
After all it was practically named after her (nor). True or not that thought motivated her enough to do the modifications. She removed the bases of every triangle except the 30th,65th,66th,and 67th. 65+66+67+57=255
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Modified 57a8141e6831e84996f615176a6d66f5060ed09e06be7493743f43e1481adfaf 57ba81a06b336033f1da709211a7d6f30ce7667b711472f672b23f0db1d65c8d
“What the hell!” they both exclaimed. In truth the two were pretty shocked by their findings. During undergrad they had been taught that collisions for Sha256 were thought to be so rare that the algorithm which underpins the security of the entire internet would remain stable until at least the end of the century. Of course that would mean that it should be impossible to reproduce using formulas, and yet this was no typical function. But there was still more. “Unbelievable you got the bits to split up almost perfectly,” Tom said after regaining his wits. “What do you mean?” Nora asked. “Just do the math Nora.” Tom said. Nora went back to the output of the unmodified function. 0e00007e8e80675b2f02e2aae1d27524643e0aa0c5a4a77a 29c92a096eeb32e2 “Do you see 464?” Tom asked. “Good now 64*4=256 right, now look at 0aa0 that looks like a stop/start code of some sort, take all the numbers after it and sum them and you will realize you have got 256 bits.” 5+4+77+29+92+09+6+32+2=256 53
AHMAD CHAMOUN “Now go back to the start of the output and add the numbers up to the middle of the 464 palindrome,” Tom continued. 7+8+80+67+5+2+2+2+1+27+52+3=256 0e00007e8e80675b2f02e2aae1d27524643e0aa0c5a4a77a 29c92a096eeb32e2 Now add up all of the single digit integers after the number 1 and you get 99 or 100. What we have here is a near collision backed up by mathematical principles,” Tom said confusedly. After all the result that was before his very eyes contradicted everything he had been taught since computing 101. But Nora didn’t pay too much attention to what Tom had pointed out, instead, something else from the output had caught her eye: A29c92a. Nora had always been a geek in college. She had learned to use hex numbers in calculations and always aced the math portion of standardized exams. A29c92a was actually the number 10656914 just written using a different number system and coincidentally used in her Biology experiments of blind mice. One major protein associated with blindness was complexion 4 protein. Experiments with the protein had been a major priority of the research group for years. Complexion 4 is coded for by the cplx4a gene which coincidently is located at the 10656914th position on the 54
NARA BRONNER mice’s 21st chromosome. Without this gene the rats could not see. “I see the (entire) market, but I must refrain,” Nora said. The key to the puzzle was a rat, and what a coincidence! Nora could not help but feel that she herself was part of a grand experiment that in many ways she could never explain.
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Then after a simple manipulation of the next function in the series the output gave the sort of patterns that the algorithm was designed to prevent in the first place. For example, the palindrome a77a was eerily similar to the near palindrome a7ff7 in the second iteration, and b77a in the third. That the functions of the series were building off another was clear, but less clear was the coincidence of the cplx4a gene positioning of complexion 4 protein in the genome of the rat, and its answer to the marketplace riddle. When faced with a problem of this complexity Nora had no choice but to stop thinking like a Computer Scientist and instead start thinking like a Biologist. In her mind there were two possibilities. One that the creator of the code, knew the position on the genome and added that into the code as a reference point. That possibility however defied the viewpoint of mainstream mathematicians who claimed that Sha256 is random in its output and that the workings of the function are clearly exposed for the entire world to see on technical websites. The other possibility was that cells have a natural tendency to congregate and form organs and complex genes simply by following special properties of numbers. If that were the case, then life would be as abundant in the universe as water.
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0e00007e8e80675b2f02e2aae1d27524643e0aa0c5a4a77a29c92a096eeb32e2
57a8141e6831e84996f615176a6d66f5060ed09e06be7493743f43e1481adfaf 57ba81a06b336033f1da709211a7d6f30ce7667b711472f672b23f0db1d65c8d f4c44f6352ead0561aeec269cea5f466a7d592b366d7cd8432531f13b3b6bb71 4fb4f038c6f3d613945ca628254f26cb2c2c475c86ace0dd8ef1e7d0c2febd09
a7ff7e575a0fb306dddeeef9a81dd073889b4ca1d27694ac9cc251d5cebcc26e f0cb2a5b469976f0cb863603b119292e4ba040281ddfb77ada0e4661cc8d7b66
Thirteen IN JUST TWO days Nora had done more to unravel the NSA’s protocol than would have taken most heavily funded governments years. After deciphering the first part Nora quickly moved on to the rest. She often debated with herself whether or not it would be a good idea to tell Ron about her newest project, but Ron was too distrustful of computers to even try. He made every effort he could to stay away from her when she was using hers. Tom, on the other hand, was intrigued. “Nora how did you know how to write this code?" he asked over and over.
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AHMAD CHAMOUN But Nora didn’t say. “Seriously Nora this is important, and I need to know, Sha-256 cost hundreds of millions of dollars of development and here you are learning how to manipulate it in a manner of days.” “Actually, Tom there is something important that I need to tell you.” “What that you’re a Russian spy?” “No! That I’m pregnant!” To Nora's surprise Tom was extremely happy. Letting out a huge sigh of relief he said, “That’s it, so you’re not a spy!” “Of course not,” Nora said with a laugh that was one of the funniest things she had ever heard. “Now we just have to figure out a way to tell your father,” Ron said from the kitchen and all the way from across the living room a look of desperation instantly appeared on Tom’s face.
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Fourteen JACK DECIDED to surprise his daughter by returning for a few weeks in the summer. Nora Tom and Ron were all out grocery shopping when he arrived home. At first, he waited in the living room but eventually curiosity led him upstairs to Nora's bedroom. Immediately he zeroed in on the lines of code that Nora was working on. Going over page after page of the code was breathtaking, his own daughter had written this? Just then everyone arrived. Jack, his hands full with the stack of papers, made his way downstairs all the way vowing to punish his daughter for her hacking project. But in an instant the papers were all over the floor and Jack was in tears. “You've grown so much in just a few months!” he exclaimed after touching her belly in disbelief.
Jack had met Tom a few times during the years. Tom and Nora had studied computer science together and often worked late on projects. “Ah so Tom has turned out to be the one,” and taking Tom by the hand he led him up into his private study.
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Nora and Ron both waited nervously in the living room. When they returned the grin on Tom's face let Ron and Nora know that a mutual understanding had been made. The wedding would be done within the month, before Nora looked far too pregnant, and Tom would move in with them while Jack continued his work overseas. Fifteen THE WEDDING WAS very simple, but it was a success. When Tom’s family arrived, Ron and Jack exchanged numerous nervous glances. Tom’s guests at the wedding outnumbered them ten to one and it was difficult to get acquainted. Nobody mentioned how small Nora’s side of the family was although it certainly weighed on everyone’s mind. Nora was very nervous, for her mother hadn’t even responded to her invitation, let alone congratulated her. But she pretended to be at ease so that Tom could continue enjoying himself. A few weeks later Tom moved in (after all his shabby one bedroom studio apartment was hardly appropriate) and Jack was back overseas.
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Sixteen NORA’S DREAM, besides visiting space, had always been to start her own tech company after graduating. Having studied programming in college she was in a perfect position to profit off of the tech boom of the 21st century. Now that Tom was living with them, he too felt himself drawn in by Ron’s magnetism. Nora was willing to take advantage, full advantage of the opportunity. “Is this some kind of joke?” Tom said when Nora showed him the photograph. “That’s what I thought too, but this check is as real as they get.. $1,000,000 in cold-hard cash.” “Wow I didn't know your great-great-grandpa was so famous!” Tom said highly impressed. “Do you think you can figure out the rest of this code because it could possibly make us a lot of money.” “How so?” Nora asked “Well that might just look like a bunch of numbers to you, but that code could actually be exported to give the blue prints of an application specific integrated circuit.” “What does that mean?” “It means that we would be over one hundred million times faster and more efficient than those running the algorithm on regular computers.” 63
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During the rest of the summer Nora and Tom worked harder than ever before. Starting a new company proved to be a lot of work. By the end of the summer the couple had managed to make a huge breakthrough in the workings of the code and Nora was able to generalize the triangles for the numbers 9, 12, and 15 up to the maximum of the series. A pattern was emerging, and she was confident that she had the tools and capability to recreate the entirety of the words of the lost artifact. Using mathematical principles Nora proved that the relation was just one of a special series that represented a unique form of geometry.
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PART TWO Seventeen 2nd of February 2004 HOLDING THE NEWBORN in his arms, Tom relished the first few moments of fatherhood. Everything was better than he had ever hoped for. Not only had Nora just given birth, she had also written the most beautiful code his nerdy side had ever seen. It was like a jack-in-the-box and Tom knew it. The simplicity of the code made it reproducible, but the complexity of the whole thing grew exponentially, sounds could be combined in a way that could create mathematical relations that would take computers ages to dream of. What I have in my hands is worth more than its weight in gold, Tom thought as he held his healthy nine-pound daughter Nara for the first time.
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Eighteen 2nd of February 2009. BY NARA’S fifth birthday Tom had aged more than he had in his entire life, and yet somehow Ron looked completely the same. The stress of parenting mixed with the work of the newest project had taken its toll on Tom, while Nara had brought excess vitality into Ron’s life. Jack had been sure to make it for the special occasion. Tom, in worse health every day but seemingly happier than ever before, sat at the head of the table. The twinkle in his eyes matched that of Naras. For the most part, Tom and Ron got on extremely well. The necessity of parenting meant Nora took a back seat in the projects, and soon abandoned them altogether. And yet she always seemed to be there when Tom needed her most. It would take too much work to redevelop the system which she knew the Chief’s ancestors had invented, so in the interests of her family she had put it all aside. By then Tom had already been exposed to enough of her code to fuel his own curiosity. He had heard the stories and gone over Nora's math and logic many times and was convinced that her calculations were sound. 67
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In those years Nora had been transformed from a lazy unmotivated college graduate into something of a superwoman. Tom had changed a lot too. He hadn’t shared his plan with anyone, not even the late Ron who had become his confident. It wasn’t out of greed more so than necessity, after all, had he known just how big it was going to be he would have never had the courage to begin with. After they all had sung happy birthday the look of Nara blowing out her seven candles brought Nora to tears. It reminded her of the time when she was on the verge of getting an abortion. And Tom looked awful. Seeing the look on Nora’s face was too much for Ron who burst out laughing and this made Tom look even more uncomfortable. “Excuse me,” Tom said taking advantage of the opportunity. After ascending the stairs up to his office it only took him five minutes to release the code for his project. It was a system of currency based on the algorithm that he and Nora had, in a way, deciphered. To make it appear more complex the algorithm was run twice instead of once. Soon computers all over the world would be using energy to try to find relations that none had found before. But from the beginning, Tom had a decisive advantage. While lacking the funding for a full-blown 68
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ASIC, an ASIC (application specific integrated circuit) so early in the game seemed like overkill, instead Tom set up a FPA (field programmable array), and at a time when most users hadn’t even thought to us a GPU (graphical processing unit) he blew the mining pool out of the water. It was all thanks to Nora’s special functions, the relations that Nora had devised could beat the work that any computer at the time could do. In ten years when the world knew how valuable this new field of technology would be, the coins that Nora’s patterns had earned him would be duly minted and safely stored on a foolproof storage drive. Tom counted on at least earning enough money to be worth the trouble, enough Tom was hoping, to put Nara through school and later college. Happy birthday sweetheart, he thought. Downstairs Nora and Ron were continuing their conversation. “Nora, do you remember that picture I gave you of my younger self holding that check.” “Yes of course, how could I ever forget?” “Well you see.. about that.. that wasn’t from any museum, or the sale of any artifact at all. It was actually from..” “What!” Nora interrupted, “Are you kidding me!” An awkward silence ensured. And Ron, giving Nora enough time to digest his revelation, maintained the silence. 69
AHMAD CHAMOUN “Well then where was it from?” Nora asked after recovering from the shock. “It was in fact from winning the lottery.” “But the treasure!?” Nora exclaimed incredulously. By then Ron was laughing so hard that he was nearly in tears. He excused himself only to return from his study a few moments later. “You mean this!” he said. “Is that it, is that the treasure?” Nora asked when Ron handed her the envelope. Upon opening it her look of excitement immediately evaporated. The Chief's treasure referred to in his letter was simply an ancient verse crafted in gold. “Don’t get me wrong,” Nora stammered after a complete loss of words, “This is highly valuable, but it is not what you promised!” It had all been too much of a coincidence! She had absolutely decided to get an abortion when she “discovered” the Chief’s poem and Ron’s million-dollar check. She realized that ever since that moment uncovering her mysterious great-great-grandfather’s secrets had kept her preoccupied long enough for her circumstances to change, and with them her wish to get an abortion. “I wrote that poem!” Ron ‘confessed’. “And since you’ll never stop asking me how I’ll tell you right now! I did it by using my knowledge from my time at the NSA.”
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NARA BRONNER “You used to work at the NSA!?” Nora was stunned. “Yes for many and many years, but regardless seeing how excited you were from the late-night stories I told you, I made it seem like it had something to do with my time in the Taklimakan Desert. I even altered the photo so that the check looked like it was written by a museum and not the Lottery Commission! I could never stand to see you have an abortion! I fought to live to be 117 in order to see this moment, my great-great-great-granddaughter’s seventh birthday! I would not stand idly by while my great-great-granddaughter got an abortion! So I hope you would forgive me, but the treasure of the Sands of Time is not real, at least not in the way which you and the Chief thought it to be.” “What did I miss!” Tom interrupted almost half sarcastically after returning from his office. “I just wanted to tell you Tom,” Ron continued as he gazed deep into Tom’s eyes. “Whatever you and Nora have accomplished in these seven years, well that was all due to the fact that you are a couple with great chemistry. And just by seeing how happy my great-great-great-granddaughter is, I am reminded about what I have always known: that you two are a match made in Heaven.”
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AHMAD CHAMOUN That was Ron’s last time being present at Nara’s birthday parties. He died a few weeks later, right before his 117th birthday. Neither Jack nor Nora ever spoke of the conversation she and Ron had that day, for they both decided it would be better for Tom not to know how close she had been to having an abortion.
Nineteen 3rd of May 2016 BY THE TIME Nara was just twelve Tom’s project had been so successful that he had made enough money to send her to college over eight million times. The treasure of the Sands of Time wasn’t real he kept telling himself as he grew richer and richer. But what was real, and what wasn’t, was becoming harder and harder to delineate. By some fluke Tom had grown richer than the entire GDP of some small nations and even had enough wealth to send every American student to college for a generation. Eighty-eight billion dollars as of then, and the longer he waited the richer he would become. It simply wasn’t smart to sell now, having sixteen percent of the entire
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NARA BRONNER world’s minted coins, such a massive sell off would mean he would probably ‘only’ get fifty cents on the dollar. Besides he had no use for the money now and had everything to lose. He and Nora were living comfortably, and he hadn’t told anyone, not even Nora about his project. If anyone found out lengthy court battles would be sure to ensure, and he could even possibly spend time in prison. Now that his technology was being abused beyond his wildest nightmare: drugs, kidnapping, murder, tax evasion, fraud and any white-collar crime you can think of. Cashing out anonymously would be next to impossible. But it didn’t matter, for a treasure that wasn’t real, Ron’s numbers sure had a life of their own. In the back of his mind Tom knew that this was just the beginning of hard work and not the end. If the treasure of the Sands of Time was real, it would dwarf the eighty-eight billion dollars that he had already made. After much self-debate Tom decided to keep the coins on the drive, perhaps in ten more years the price would have risen so much that he may very well be one of the richest men in the world. Thinking back on everything that happened, Tom felt as if he got a strong glimpse of the future. But instead of Ron Bronner being surrounded by mysterious documents, letters and secrets, lost in thought as to think up ways to transmit the roots of being to his successors, Tom saw no 73
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one other than himself. The treasure of the Sands of Time is REAL, he thought, and he would have to live to at least half the age Ron had if he ever wanted to find it.
Twenty Spring of 2021 NARA COULDN’T have known, but her father was one of the richest men in the world. To communicate that fact to her would have been difficult. When it came to the size of their home, their brand of cars, and choice of food and clothing, they were as normal as any of the other families in their Richmond suburb. Nara had just turned eighteen, but her parents had educated her in such a way that she had the maturity of someone in their late twenties. By then both Tom and Nora were already in their forties. Tom had aged much less gracefully than Nora. Perhaps it was the stress of knowing he had hit it so rich, and yet was so unlucky at the same time. He could walk away from the greatest fortune the world had ever known, or he could risk everything that he knew to be dear and pursue it.
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The indecision had taken its toll, and Nora, always sensing that her husband was hiding something important from her, had at times doubted Tom’s fidelity. Then, just a few months before Nara’s birthday, Tom’s physician diagnosed him with brain cancer, or as the doctor put it monster cancer. Tom would only have at most just 6 more months to live.
The news made Tom feel cold hearted, he didn't go to visit others, and carried on in his comings and goings with little to no interaction with others at all. Their home had well over a dozen rooms, always full with one event or another and so Tom was always in close proximity to quite a large number of people, yet he refused to acknowledge this reality. He never stopped to sit and eat with others, and although he occasionally could be seen he never bothered to even say hello. When the mail would come he used to be excited to read it but in those days Tom never once went to collect his mail. Besides the rituals required by everyday living- which of course Nora helped put in good order- he didn't acknowledge others at all. To make matters worse he had displayed a few outbursts of rage, these hurt his reputation enough, and in the eyes of others even his own daughter Nara he was becoming as cold in social intercourse as a river cutting its way through 75
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mountain rock. On the other hand his bookcase was fulled to the brim with books, many of them Ron’s and during most of the day he would make his way around his room, following his habitual route, from the closet with a brief pause at the desk before eying his selection, putting on his reading cap, and gazing at the page of an article already etched somewhere in his memory; he would briefly flip through the book and glance at the cover before making a few more laps around the room to make a different selection; needless to say the blinds were always closed, and except for a few glimpses of the sun, Tom’s life was overshadowed by a monotonous darkness. When Nora came back home she would either bring him leftovers or cook on the spot, and they would of course listen to each other’s grumblings, the unfortunate death of his mother and how his father was never there for them, and why nothing in the world scared him more than Nara living like an orphan in that way. While he agreed on the causes, he would still laugh off her criticisms of his lifestyle and say something along the lines of: the world being empty and life having no real true meaning, and that peoples relations to other people, as well as their relation to space and nature all played out like an opera on a stage, on which are a mother and father who had forgotten their role and jumping off the stage, dropped the curtain, causing the audience to scurry and scattering the egos of everyone everywhere hopelessly. Crying and laughter followed another endlessly, and it was 76
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righteous when the Buddhist nuns would say that love and pity both stem from an evil vein. Although Nora would listen, she understood only perhaps half of what he was trying to say, laughingly she would say that if what he were saying were true life would have no meaning. Death and destruction, how can those be positive things or even rival trivial ones like food and dress? He would laugh and say that the turbulent waters of the world would always drown out the self. Nora would dare to say very little afterward and the two would continue eating in silence. Regardless of how she pleaded with him Tom refused to see a doctor. Then one night Nora awoke very suddenly. A loud shriek followed by a series of groans from Ron’s old study arose from the floor. Tom’s pained groans came and went intermittently drowning out all the other sounds of the night. Dr. Martin, Jack’s close friend and the late Ron’s personal doctor arrived, and immediately administered as well as scheduled future tests. Even though he was heavily sedated, Tom knew that he would have a hard time getting back to sleep. The blue moonlight swirled through his window as if it were a vortex of water, penetrating his heart with its chill causing him to ponder many things from his youth—— his lovely daughter, the night sky filled with stars, schoolyards filled with flowers...... He was thoroughly exhausted, he tried his best to put all of those reminiscences out of his head
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yet instead spent the entire night piecing history together one event at a time. While the morphine dulled his physical pain, his true pain was of a different nature. He groaned in pain for nights, watching the moon and pondering his history—— Naturally the lack of sleep suppressed his appetite, his eyelids were black and the rest of his face pale. Upon the occasional glances into the mirror his first impression would be a small fit of surprise and disbelief at his reflection, and still each day he would continue to pick at the deep recess' of his mind for some little detail which would better illuminate his personal history, only to spend the night like a deliriously sick person would. Early one morning, after about a week, Nora broke her longstanding silence. “Dr. Martin said that without treatment you are going to die.” she said. “Its true” Tom began in a sorrowful tone “I don’t know how I got in such a bad state but I don’t need their medicine, I am close to figuring this all out and I know it!” “But you are going to die!” Nora shouted, “And what about Nara!” Tom focused all of his attention toward his pocket as if he wasn't listening or interested in what Nora was saying, then slowly he took some money out of it, and after handing a few big notes to Nora said, “Give this to 78
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Nara., let her go and buy whatever her heart desires.” Then he finished the last few bites of his supper and in haste made his way back to his office. The sound of coughing slowly died down, and within a month had disappeared entirely. Tom was quickly back to his old routine of dreamless and passionless nights. The thoughts of those few nights, the fine evoking light of the moon illuminating the frozen mountain tops, had all but disappeared. In fact, those several times that Nora brought in Nara so that she could express her joy, Tom would only slightly raise his head to take a look at his little girl who had brought him flowers, and even forgetting why Nara should have a need to give him flowers, let alone anything at all, he would rock his head back and forth to smell them before quickly hopping back to his books, neglecting to give Nara a proper chance to express herself. And Nara, who, always on the verge of tears, would storm out the door. Then one night, not long after dinner, Tom told Nora that he had secured a place in a new experimental treatment program and that he would be leaving alone early the next morning. Nora was extremely disappointed, for while she was happy that Tom had finally decided to confront his illness, she didn’t understand why he insisted on doing it alone.
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AHMAD CHAMOUN “You can’t come with me or even try to regardless of the circumstances.” Tom explained. Tom was adamant and eventually Nora realized that she could not change his mind and thus called for a celebration. He nodded only slightly before turning and grabbing a book from his office. Tom was extremely tired and fell asleep not long after that, only to awaken to the sound of someone twisting his door open. He spotted some shadows in his hallway yet continued to lay still and silent on his bed until the sounds became too vague to make out from the silence around him. The next day was a busy one. Nora wanted to help, but Tom, wouldn't allow her to. After Nora had left to grab a few last second items for Tom’s Journey, Tom suddenly remembered that he had forgotten to buy the locks which he needed to secure his belongings. As he slowly opened the door of his apartment, he was met by a sunlit figure in the corridor, upon looking closer he realized it was Nara, since Nora wasn’t around, he decided to give Nara the task of buying him a lock. “Nara, sweetheat, please take this money and buy a lock for my suitcase.” he said. Nara was ecstatic and taking the money she flew down the stairs. Before long Nara had returned with the lock in hand, breathlessly she handed it to Tom. Then lifting his head as if to speak she slowly took out the change to hand to Tom. Tom wasn't paying any attention however and had already 80
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taken the lock and walked away, Neglecting yet again to give his daughter the compassion which she sought. Wringing his hands over-and-over until he had gone over every last detail, Tom succeed in moving most of his books alone and his favorite place on the bookshelf was nearly completely empty. When it was time to sleep, he felt extremely hot and had no choice but to open all of the windows, the temperature had dropped quite suddenly, and the icy air quickly rushed inside. I've already worked up quite a fever, he thought to himself that is why I’m feeling so confused, and why the room feels so dreadfully empty... What a tiring few days its been.. daily life is bound to have such irregularities. But why do I already feel like a sick patient.. it’s going to be a long and hard night indeed. Mercy.. don't think such thoughts, the pain may be too much to bear! The gentle breeze ruffled through his hair, drying the beads of sweat from his forehead he drifted deeper and deeper into the realms of his dreams. The blank white buildings are reflecting the sun, leaving obtuse shadows in their wake, reminding him that time is slipping by. His compassionate mother is comforting him, the night sky is filled with stars, and the courtyard: flowers. No! No! No! He mustn't think of any of that, those awful troubling degenerate thoughts! Suddenly he was surrounded by apparitions, what they were he couldn't make out clearly, but they were 81
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slowly closing in on him, as sure to overtake him as the sun is to set. There was a heavy wind, from the rampart he gazed at a night sky filled to the brim with shooting stars. In the few empty parts of the night sky he slowly made out a woman in white dress, fixing her dress with one hand and wiping her forehead with the other. Her plain, pure, sunlit figure was trailed by a fragrant scent, slowly lowering her gaze her bright and solemn eyes beamed with love. His nerves began to tingle, he wanted to get up but couldn't get himself out of… his cradle, his mother gently calms him down. Oh mother, I want to be in your warm and loving caress again, He thought to himself. Oh mother, we will always be connected in a unique and everlasting way. She slowly began to fade away, her glance still concerned as ever. Confusion sets in, the stars fall like rain, falling horizontally, the side of the house still-standing-still like a shadow in their wake. “ No mother don't go!” He said aloud. Decade-old memories come back to life, playing themselves out before him, decade old sorrows drown out his vision with tears. That fragrant scent still lingers, people dressed in white are coming and going. Slowly Tom opens his eyes, daylight slowly finds its way onto the blank-white walls of his room, covered in the near darkness of dawn stands a 82
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shadowy figure with a handful of flowers. Sitting up in bed and squinting through the haze of his mental fatigue Tom notices that it is no other than Nara herself. By the time Tom forces himself out of bed, Nara had already slipped away leaving behind yet another basket of flowers. After wearing the change of clothes he had prepared for himself, Tom walks over to the basket and sees that there is a letter next to it. The letter written by Nara read: I don't know how to repay father’s kindness. I have already visited him many times, always without recognition. Once again I bring you a basket of flowers. I hope you will appreciate them, for they are extremely fragrant and are from our very own garden. I wanted to give you them earlier, but never had the opportunity. Yesterday I heard that you will be leaving to get well again so I hurriedly brought them. I know for sure that father would not want them. Only because of my mother and my love for her I obeyed and tried my utmost to convey her thanks to you. Maybe later you can you tell me some things about Grandmother. She must have loved you dearly. It seems our mothers could be have even been friends. Therefore, one ought to look out for the sons of his mother's friends. Respectfully yours, Nara. 83
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Having finished reading the letter, Tom grabbed the basket of flowers and returned to bed, it seemed impossible to be certain about anything anymore, and no longer able to bottle-up his emotions he let forth a miserable wail. Her scent still lingered, but mother had already left! Somewhere, someplace along the brilliant radiance of a numberless multitude of windows of light, or so it seemed to him, not knowing if it was day or night, gazing at the moon and stars through tear-filled eyes. Early next morning Nora returned to find nothing but the most well dressed version of Tom she had ever seen, with his hat covering his face, he leaned on the window sill and gazed out into the street. Seeing him that way made her laugh and she asked him if he could use anything to eat or drink. He shook his head no. The car had already arrived and the luggage all situated. His face filled to the brim with tears, he bowed reverently to convey his thanks to Nora, then handing her the basket of flowers he left the apartment and was driven away. Nara having witnessed the scene rushed to Nora’s side, both of them being utterly shocked but what had just transpired. There was nothing to do but watch as the car faded into the distance. Then turning slowly toward Nara, Nora said “Nara please go to father’s room and tidy things up a bit, if the door is locked the key is on the dining room table.”
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Except for the bed, the room was completely tidy, on top of which was an envelope written in Tom’s handwriting: Nara, my little angel, First of all I am the one who is deeply indebted to you. You should know that my so called act of grace, was truly one of shame. You said that you needed to repay my kindness in some way, yet I still do not know how I can repay yours. That late starry night my illness caused me to remember so many things. First and most important, my mother, your grandmother her love was the kind that would make me feel like I was walking on water. These past ten years or so, I wrongly assumed that the world is in vain, and that human existence has no real meaning, that love and pity are both vices alike. When I gave you life, it wasn't because I felt even an inkling of pity or love for you or who you might become, or who you might be. And yet by neglecting to think of that I was trying my best to avoid the universe and all of mankind, to avoid both love and pity. My God! What a thought! Once more, I must extend my deepest thanks to you for the heavenly words of your last letter. My little angel, you are right, all the
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AHMAD CHAMOUN mothers of this world are great friends, and their sons and daughters the same for the existence of all is intricately connected. When you brought me those flowers my mother had already come. She brought your love and moved me dearly. I must not forget your flowers and kindness, and I ask that you also not forget that it was those things that brought your friend's mother's memory back to life. I have been wrong towards you until now, and worse, I don't have anything of equal value to give to you to repay what you gave to me——moreover, there is nothing nor anyone that can accompany me but tears of regret, and the sight of the half-moon against the backdrop of many a forgotten star. I now know that nothing earthly can hope to reach heaven's perfection. The only thing which I desire more than to put human regret forever to rest is a piece of silk with which to sow my place on the moon, making each end my heavenly canopy. And yet, isn’t a piece of that heavenly essence also contained in a simple flower? Its welcome fragrance, always coaxing the regretful to take a deep breath, perfectly illustrating anything beyond a sorrowful description, please accept them then: these blue flowers, for there is nothing else which I can give to you!
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NARA BRONNER It is already dawn and I must go, I have nothing else to say, only that I am very thankful for you, my little angel, goodbye, goodbye! Remember , all sons and daughter in this world are great friends to one another, and we will forever carry on to complete our destiny. Your Father, I know I've written a lot, and that you won’t really understand most of it, yet you don’t really have a real need to, because your understanding is way
above mine... Nara, flowers in hand, stares darkly at the sky while saying to herself, “What? Daddy gave me these flowers??”
Twenty-One Tom had made the decision to leave his family temporarily so that he could cash out and get cured. In fact there was no treatment or anything of the sort that he had
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told Nora of before going away. He was simply going to cash out and use his money to pay anyone whatever they wanted to keep him alive. And yet it wasn’t until he arrived at the family’s vacation home half a hundred miles away that he realized that he had forgotten the coins on that damn USB! And yet there was no time for regrets, for right after coming to that bleak realization Tom took the last breath of his life. And in the throes of death his vision was overwhelmed by the sight of Ron Bronner walking right through him. “Ron it as you all along, it was you who poisoned me!” Tom said at the top of his lungs, and yet the words only came out in a half whisper if they even came out at all, and by the end of that sentence Tom was dead.
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Twenty-Two NORA WAS unable to continue living in the home she had fallen in love in. Everywhere she went she couldn’t stop thinking of time. Finally, and after much consideration, she decided to join her father Jack overseas. By then a year and a half had passed since Tom’s death and both Nora and Nara were heartbroken. Nara was already eighteen, and so she able to stay in the house on her ow. Just out of high school Nara had to take student loans to attend college, all the while wishing that she had the means around her to do what she really wanted. She struggled to cook, clean, work, study, and deal with loneliness. Basically, every day was a struggle to recreate the wheel so to speak. She struggled this way for almost two years, not realizing that stuffed away deep in her father’s old dresser was a treasure that by then had become worth over two-hundred billion dollars. But the treasure itself refused to be shunned in such a way. Every night Nara’s dreams mocked her, as if a higher intelligence was trying to bring her attention to something,
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as if someone or something was experimenting on her. She would forget the dreams, or if she remembered them they would contain very little concrete information. It was bad and every night was becoming a struggle to sleep.
Twenty-Three 2nd of Febuary 2025 IT WAS NARA’S 21st Birthday and she was determined to enjoy it. At first the party had stalled and few of her friends had shown up, but then, almost as if by a miracle, the party was turned around. From the depths of the basement her friends Jill and Steve accidentally found a secret horde of Ron’s old tea when they were busy, as they put it, “cleaning”. The shock on their faces when they realized that the tea bore the original royal insignia of the house of the Prince of Wales himself. “Wonder what other treasure you got around this house,” Jill joked as Steve got on with brewing the tea. Everyone was curious and wondered what exactly Royal tea tasted like. “Delicious!” The guests said as they sipped the tea. 90
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Nara was taken aback as well. Then when Steve had taken all of the tea bags out of the box, a small card caught his eye. He gave a cheer and started to read, almost shout, the message out loud. “Happy birthday to my lovely Nara, I hope this royal blend of earthly tea will bring you and your friends joy.” R.R.B “Who is R.R.B !?” Jill laughed, “Your secret admirer or something?” That was the explanation everyone needed and soon everyone’s curiosity had dissipated. Soon everyone who was invited had come and brought their friends as well. “Nara you didn’t have to be nervous about this,” Jill said. “I didn’t know how to tell you,” Nara said playing along. All throughout the night Nara couldn’t wrap her head around what was happening. The taste of the tea brought out intense memories from her childhood and of Grandpa Ron who had always offered her a sip. Could her grandpa Ron really have sent her that message, and how was that possible? Soon the party was over, and Nara was alone again. Then out of the corner of her eyes she thought she saw a hooded figure move. Thinking one of the guests had left something behind she followed the figure up the stairs and into Tom’s old room.
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Then right when she was about to confront the shade, it ran towards Tom’s old dresser and dissipated without a trace. It was as if Nara was on autopilot, she walked up close to the dresser where she had last seen the shade. A series of markings caught her eye. Had that ghost made these? She asked herself as she went over them with her index finger. Nara was getting ready to write the whole experience off as a late night visual disturbance, caused by a lack of sleep, when her index finger suddenly made contact with the dresser’s secret compartment. What the hell is this, Nara thought as she fished out the USB. Whatever the USB contained, it seemed extremely dangerous. As curious as she was, an overwhelming inhibition and sense of fear prevented her from plugging it into her computer. She needed some answers to the incessant questions floating around in her head. It was then that she saw a book which had fallen between the shelves of the dresser. The book was small enough to have been secretly tucked away overlooked and forgotten for all of those years. Wiping off the dust from the cover revealed the title. “Nara Bronner and The Secret Sands of Time.”
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My dearest Nara, Whose searching for treasure even in the darkest of places led me to write this book. Ron R Bronner.
Nara, her eyes full with tears, flipped open the book. It was completely incomprehensible. She was hallucinating and she knew it. Then right before she was about to call for help, out slipped the bundle of tables, calculations, and letters that the Chief had given Ron R. Bronner over a century before.
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(And we have given you the seven pairs/planets.)
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AHMAD CHAMOUN Therefore, if we take the value of the phrase Seven Pairs we arrive at a number of 702. Just coincidence? According to my faith There are AT LEAST 72 main states and teachings that mankind must undergo to reach illumination and knowledge of the one, NOT just one! May one and one always make a two, Yours Truly, Chief Sighur, 38th guardian of the Silk Road. PS: Try as one may, might was never meant to be right, be it in spring’s May or autumn’s September. For maybe just ‘may-be’ humanity was always‘me-ant’ to progress far beyond September’s ant-heap and May’s beehive
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=قوىstrong 3-8-19-209 3+19=22..22 3’s= 11 6’s =ق100 =ى10 = و6
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BUT Nara, didn’t make the connection and so in a state of rage she smashed the USB to pieces, and burned the book, along with the verse that the Chief had given Ron R. Bronner all of those years ago. Little did she know that these things (whether she appreciated them or not) were what was responsible for her birth and existence in the first place. She might have well light herself on fire for after all Nara means to burn. But from the Seventh Heaven Tom, Helen, Richard, Ron R. Bronner, as well as countless others laughed louder than they ever had before. For although Nara couldn’t have known it, burning the verse and smashing the USB had in fact activated the secret Hakim Mechanism once and for all. For after all, at the end of the day, a burning flame produces its own light and illumination, does it not? And without knowing why Nara began to write the past and distant inner experiences that made her who she was, both the origin and expression of her very DNA itself.
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AHMAD CHAMOUN Dear Reader, This sort of half-moon I have already seen in my life about half a dozen times, yet after staring at it for sometime, I can only gasp. The feeling of lost hope I wish will never return. Right now standing amidst rocky waves and foggy seas, I am struggling greatly to write off these stirrings of sorrow! Beads of rain blanket the ship as I make my way to the highest point, sitting in the mast, I suddenly see the sky open up, and in the midst of four corners of dark fog shines the light of my island, while the sensation of soft sparkling mist brushes up against the white contours of memory.. The boat rocks slowly, the ripples it makes reflect the night sky on the water's surface. A beam of light dressed up in fog, a real splendid treasure hidden away, submerged in memory, calls and guides my heart to a place without words, to the stillness which overcame father and I those many years before, bringing sorrow to my heart and stirring it like thorns. My eyes are filled to the brim with senseless tears, taking advantage of the night sky and the stupor which its light provides! Ocean breeze if not for your guidance how could I hope to write away the already dead desires of two years past, until they are given a new light and reinvigorated! Never again should that regret stir in my heart, never again should I let myself be overtaken by those sorrowful dreams, and I wish to never lose hope, so that I may live forever without sorrow. I wish for God to bless these two humble sailors, my father and I! I wish for God to bless anyone who knows the qualities of this sea. I wish for them to grow wise and large like a cedar tree, and for their range of vision to extend beyond the heights of any mountain. I wish for them to learn that they carry the strength of a nation within themselves a nation of which they are the emperors, emperors leading an enviable life of pure relaxation!!! Forever yours,
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