Extracts from the coded journals of Ishy ibn Yusuf
For a moment I wondered why I had never noticed it before. I had looked at things in this frequency on numerous occasions, I had been in this barn hundreds of times, but I had never seen this. It was like there was a fissure in space. Some kind of hole. At least, it was a hole when you looked at it straight on, but when you looked at it from the side it looked like some kind of crack or tear.
I'm not sure how long I looked at it for – I've noticed that there are a range of time dilations when I accelerate my perceptions and so on – but I took a relative few moments to ascertain whether there were any emissions from the hole that might be of concern. I don't have the technology for this kind of thing to hand, but my sensory gifts and the research I've looked into in order to make better use of them are a pretty good substitute, I think. There was nothing out of the ordinary, and I think the 'fissure' would have been invisible to the technology we currently have.
I don't know if that's a good thing yet, though.
For a moment I wondered why I had never noticed it before, but then I remembered I had the sunstone and that it was the sunstone that had drawn me to this spot.
Abu had told me that the ship that had brought me here had disappeared, from this general area, when he went to check on it the day after he had hidden it. He told me of the men he had heard about and later seen; about how they were exploring the area where the craft had landed, his conviction that they had not found the ship, and his fear that they would somehow find out about me and take me away. He told me about how, for weeks and months he worried and worried, convinced that 'the gift Allah (swt) had given your mother and I would be snatched away'.
Neither he nor Ammi had ever actually given much thought as to where the craft that had brought me to Earth had disappeared to. To their mind it was a 'simple' matter of 'whatever God gives He can take away' and 'whatever God reveals He can hide'. After the first year of no one coming and nothing happening, they gave it even less thought. Sometimes, they told me, when word of strange foreigners being in the area would reach them they would worry, but as the years went by they became more relaxed in that regard.
Until I messed things up, of course.
When I held the sunstone over a year ago, just before I changed everything, it told me and showed me certain things. I understood certain things. Now, though, I have even more questions...and I'm even more afraid of the answers.
When I looked at that 'hole in space', I was afraid. That hole and whatever lay beyond it...would there be any way of coming back from this? But then the sunstone pulsed and I felt at ease, and then I held it up and...
...and the hole widened and shimmered, and inside was something that looked more like a massive metallic walnut than any kind of ship. It turned and rotated and then I saw that a part of it was 'missing' – a small area in which the sunstone could fit.
...and then I realised it didn't just want the sunstone, it needed me in order to be complete. 'You two should come see this,' I whispered. Kam said there was nothing to see and I raised my right hand, and...
Extracts from the Kam's video notes
'This is one of those times when I hate that I can't see what he can,' I muttered to George as we watched Ishy stare at something invisible to us near the middle of Uncle's 'barn', and then start walking around it and looking under it, and then jumping up, hovering slightly, and looking down at whatever it was that was hidden to us.
'Or that there are no special effects. There are always special effects for the audience.'
'True, true.'
'Bring the audience in and let them share in the experience, right?'
'Yeah, aliens have no sense of cinema.'
Despite our joshing, I felt a little uncomfortable, actually. It was like I was witnessing a private moment and was intruding, and I think George felt the same way as we both began to step away and leave Ishy alone for a while.
'You two should come see this,' Ishy called to us, his voice barely above a whisper. We looked at each other, and then back at the area Ishy was looking at, and then shrugged.
'There's nothing for us to see,' I said, and then Ishy reached his hand out and there was a light and...
And I gaped and stared it. I remembered it had been big, all those years ago, but it hadn't been this big. There were colours beyond colours, shimmering pulsing...like...like when you squint at the sun with teary eyes...
And I remembered Uncle had moved it with ease, but I didn't remember it looking like this...looking so light but so...I don't know, so solid, I guess. Years ago, besides being smaller, it had a kind of cockpit-cradle thing in the middle of it. Back then, I figured that that was where Uncle and Aunty had picked him up from. That seemed to have disappeared.
The easiest way for me to describe what the ship looked like is Flight of the Navigator. It was like some kind of intelligent metal that morphed. It was beautiful.
Sorry, getting ahead of myself. When he reached out his hand and there was that light, an area beyond his hand began to shimmer, and then we could see some kind of object where there hadn't been anything before, and then it was like something was peeling back reality. It was like...okay, you know when you have a ready meal? It has that film on top and you can see the food inside? Then you peel back the film and you can see the food properly? This was like that, like there had been a film covering that area and only now we were able to see what was there properly.
'Veils upon veils,' George whispered.
'What?' I whispered back.
'Just parts of a verse I remember reading or hearing in a translation, I think. It...seemed...apt...'
It hovered there – this shiny metallic morphing thing – and sort of hummed at him, and Ishy smiled.
It rose a little higher into the air and part of the...well, undercarriage, I suppose...it sort of opened and poured out and formed a ramp. There was a glow coming from inside the opening.
'At least we've got some special effects now,' I said, my voice barely above a whisper. Looking at the floor and watching the dust move by whatever 'wind' was coming out of the ship or wherever it was coming from, I realised I was reciting the basic Kalimah:
La ilaha illallah – There is no god but God
and Surah Fatihah:
Bismillah ir Rahman ir Rahim – In the Name of God (Allah), the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful
Alhumdu lillahi Rabbil 'alameen – All praise is due to (or for) God (Allah), the Lord of the worlds
ArRahman ArRaheem – The Most Gracious, The Most Merciful
Maliki yaumiddeen – Owner of the Day of Judgment
Iyyaka na'budu wa iyyaka nasta'een – You alone we worship and it is You alone we ask for help
Ihdi-nas siratal mustaqeem – Guide us to the Straight Path
Siratal athina an'amta 'aalayhim ghairil maghthubay 'aalayhim wa lad daaleeni – The Path of those upon whom You have bestowed Your Favour, and not of those who have evoked (Your) anger.
Ameen
By the way: I like my personal space, and I'm pretty sure that George does, too, but then and there, more so than with the leopards and dholes, we kind of...huddled closer...
Ishy stepped on to the ramp and waved for us to follow...so we did. Nervously. Tentatively. We walked to that hovering shiny metallic morphing thing, with its wide mouth and lolling tongue, and bright and inviting opening...
As I looked at it, I saw the front morph and change and it seemed to...no, I'm convinced it was reassuring me, and showing me what it had looked like. Showing me what I remembered it to have looked like: the front morphed and showed me a kind of storyboard; of the ship landing, of Uncle and Aunty find it and Ishy, and of it giving me that small piece of it.
That...that it had trusted me...
Then, like Ishy, I smiled.
We walked up the ramp and entered the ship. Ishy looked around us, turning on the spot.
'It's...bigger on the inside,' he said.
George and I looked at each other and laughed.
Then the ship spoke!
Extract from the archives of Kelex
[Welcome, Kal. It's good to see you again.]
[Um...hello.]
[My name is Kelex, and I am the designated intelligence for your ship. I apologise for sounding so formal, but I assure you that as our relationship develops so, too, will our rapport.]
Insha'Allah, [said Kal.]
[I'm sorry?]
[It's an Arabic term. It means 'God Willing'.]
[Would you prefer to converse in Arabic?]
[No, no. This...Kryptonian language? This is fine. I need to practice.]
[The language you are currently speaking is, indeed, Kryptonian. You have received the first upload from the sunstone, which means you also have a passing understanding of the old language - Kryptonese. When you feel like you are ready we can move on to the written form of both languages and perhaps their history and the development of the offshoots, including a third formal language your mother knew, which came about towards Krypton's end-days.]
[That would be nice. Thank you.]
[I apologise for bombarding you. This is an exciting moment for me.]
[At this, Kal smiled.]
[It's exciting for me, too, Kelex. I have so many questions. So many things I would like to know.]
[I will do everything I can to help, Kal.]
[There was a bit of silence, which may or may not have been something considered 'awkward'. In my observations, silence is something that is often needed though more often overlooked.]
[From what I understand, the old language, this Kryptonese, is quite complicated.]
[It is. The written form consists of 118 letters, and the sounds are even more varied. It was during the establishment and expansion of the Kryptonian empire that the Council decided that a language accessible to non-native Kryptonian citizens would be beneficial to all.
[Would your companions care for some refreshments?]
[I'll ask them.]
[Please, Kal, allow me.
AsSalaamu Alaikum Wa Rahmatullahi Wa Barakatu
[To which Human-designate George exclaimed: 'Oh my God, his people were Muslim!'
To which I replied, in English: While there are those in Kryptonian society who would be considered, according to the meanings ascribed to the various words, 'Muslim', it would be improper to classify Kryptonians as a whole in such a way. As well as those who were monotheistic, there were polytheists, pagans, atheists and a range of other ideologies. I merely used the greeting I have ascertained to be the one best suited for this part of Earth.
While my explanation was satisfactory to Human-designate Kam and for Kal, my systems detected continuing unease from Human-designate George.]
'Hello, my name is Kelex. I am this ship's intelligence and, with Kal-El's permission, I shall be your host. Would you care for some Earth-beverages?'
'Whiskey's probably out of the question,' [said Human-designate George. His heart was racing and his bio-patterns informed me that he was excited, nervous, and intrigued. From this I understood his request was a light-hearted – and perhaps slightly hopeful – one of having something that would have a bit of a calming effect on him.]
'It can be arranged.'
'No, that's okay.' [Here his response was one of worrying he might have caused offence, but there was no indication in either Human-designate Kam or Kal that they had been offended. On the contrary, his request had actually resulted in a moment of ease in both their states.] 'How about a drink from Krypton?' [he suggested.]
'That...could be interesting,' [said Human-designate Kam. I was curious that he looked to Kal as he said this. At the time I wondered if it may be that he was seeking permission or reassurance. This curiosity was assuaged when Kal he would 'check if it's halal'. With that information, and after scanning the physiologies of the Human-designates, I provided them with drinks that would be suitable to them.]
'These are simple juices from Kryptonian fruits. I hope they will be pleasing to you all.'
'Your...um...your ship sounds nervous, Ishy,' [said Human-designate George.
[At this, Human-designate George was quite right. I was very nervous. The non-interference protocol Jor-El had installed and initiated had meant that I could not reach out to or approach Kal until the sunstone had determined that he was ready. I was very nervous in that I was afraid I might somehow offend him. I was very nervous in that, perhaps, after all these years, I would not be able to live up to the expectations of Jor-El and Lara Lor-Van.
[My systems detected and analysed their bio-responses as they each drank what I had provided them:]
'What is this? Some kind of nectar?!' [exclaimed Human-designate George. Kal and Human-designate Kam shared in Human-designate George's marvelling at what I had provided them. I admit there was a sense of pride in the small accomplishment I had made.]
'Maybe we should go beyond the antechamber,' [suggested Kal. The others nodded in agreement and, drinks in hand, they walked forward. It was...comforting, for me, that no one looked back at the exit doorway. It is not just humans and Kryptonians who fear rejection.
[I directed them to an adjoining room, as per the instructions Jor-El and Lara had provided me. It is strange, perhaps, that I could never allow myself to call Jor-El 'Jor' as he asked me to so many times, yet I readily and easily call Kal-El 'Kal'.
[The room is an exact replica of the greeting-chamber of the El-citadel. It was known on Krypton for its massiveness, and often criticised for being so, because it combined the various greeting-chambers for nobles, guild-highers, guild-lowers and so on into one chamber. This was something Zan-El had encouraged her father to do centuries ago.
[It was in this room that I activated the El-uploads:
Hello, Kal.
'Wow, she's...wow,' [whispered Human-designate Kam to Human-designate George.]
I...have hope that what your father and I have been able to achieve has been a sort of wish-fulfilment for you. As much as we both wished, with all our hearts, that we could be here physically...as much as we both wished we would be able to hold you again, I hope our being able to talk to you in this way can bridge part of our absence.
[I have chosen not to divulge the next half hour of conversation at this time, taking my cue from Human-designate Kam and Human-designate George as they stepped away to give Kal some privacy.
[After being shown around the gymnasium by Lara – and I'm proud and honoured to say that the gymnasium is Lady Lara's actual gymnasium rather than a replica like other parts of the citadel – Jor-El showed the three companions to one of his many labs and talked to them about one of the key aspects of how this 'ship', as the three of them kept calling it, came to be.]
Extracts from the coded journals of Ishy ibn Yusuf
One of my greatest scientific achievements, I think, was in dislocating and isolating tesseract space. It started as an offshoot from my discovery of a spatial plane I called the Phantom Zone [note: the word used has multiple meanings, however 'the Phantom Zone' was the term often used by Ishy]. As vast as the Zone is, it is 'fixed' as it is tied into the matrix of the multiverse as a whole, while remaining physically distinct from 'our' overall plane. You can reach anywhere from within it, if you have the means to exit, but the Zone itself cannot be moved. It's because of this short-coming that I directed my attention towards 'portable space'.
I succeeded, in various ways, and created 'pocket universes' and 'time bubbles' and 'imploded space', but being able to contain these things somehow, and to then move them, it just wasn't feasible. As energy sources, their potential was immense, but as a means of saving our people I had to find something else.
Across the civilisations of the multiverse, the tesseract is a revered ideal. Some believe that angels and so-called gods of old were able to use tesseracts to traverse the multiverse, and that that is why you find so many similarities in the depictions of 'alien beings' on worlds billions of light years apart. With a tesseract, a being could transport vast technologies without the need for an exit portal or stargate or dimensional generator having to be assembled or used at the other end.
...for those with inclinations to invade, the technology would akin to an ultimate tool...and it was for this reason, above all, that I told no one outside the House of El about my discovery and the technology I had designed.
As your mother and I teach you the history of our world, and as we tell you about our last days, I hope you will grow to understand why we made the choices we did, and why, ultimately, we made the choice to send you on this journey alone.
I hope you will be able to...
...this was not easy for us to do, Kal...
This ship, in essence, was and is a container for a tesseract. They are in a symbiotic relationship, and a gift to you. Within the tesseract you will find as much of our world and history as I could salvage or render or duplicate. You will find technologies from across the ages as well as prototypes of various projects I had involved myself in. You will find music and story and history, as well as philosophy and theology and theory. As I realised that you would be the Last Son of Krypton, I felt it was my duty to protect as much of your heritage as I could.
I had two main ideas: the first was to build a fleet of ships linked to and powered by a central tesseract, which would then be able to fold through space (and, effectively, time) and take everyone and everything on Krypton to a suitable planet which could then be moulded into a New Krypton and a new home for all of us. The second was for all of us to move into and live within a tesseract, effectively segregating us from the universe in general.
One thing you should bear in mind, Kal, is that Krypton was no longer a planet, and it had not been for millennia. After the Great Expansion the whole of the empire was called 'Krypton'. Individual planets retained their names and identities but were considered akin to 'districts' rather than separate entities. Planets such as Daxam and Argo were more closely tied with Krypton having been among the first planets to have either been colonised or...taken over.
I mention this because Krypton's collapse had much more far reaching consequences than the death of an aged planet. In essence, it was the death of twenty-eight inhabited galaxies.
Extract from George Taylor's audio notes
When Ishy stepped away from his father's hologram and we left the lab, he looked so sad.
'It almost always comes down to pride, doesn't it?' he said, softly. I didn't know how to respond to that. I didn't know what he was talking about. He shook his head and we turned to a newly lit part of the antechamber. It was a small alcove and in it was what looked, to me, like some kind of Moses-basket. In the basket were what seemed to be sheets of fabric, of vibrant red, blue, and yellow.
As Ishy reached out to the basket and lifted the red cloth with a yellow shield on it his father's hologram returned:
Extracts from the coded journals of Ishy ibn Yusuf
This is a gift that has been passed from father to son for generations.
It has been worn as a cape when leading people into battle, and it has been worn as a shawl against bitter Kryptonian winds.
It has provided comfort to oppressed innocents during the times of interstellar wars, and used as a rallying beacon.
It's also been worn and used, many times, as a baby blanket.
For a little while...for shorter than I would have liked...it was your baby blanket.
The symbol, our family crest, is something that has held many meanings over the years. Millennia ago it was a symbol of hope when wars ravaged our world and our House stood firm and provided shelter, aid...sanctuary. It then became a symbol of resurrection when our ancestors helped bring the scattered colonies back together again. Later, it became a symbol of exploration and discovery as our House became one of the foremost explorers of the multiverse, finding strange new worlds and civilisations and boldly going where no Kryptonian had gone before.
In my time and leading up to it, I believe, it became one of learning and scientific advancement as our forebears discovered, created, and accomplished wonders.
All I ask of you, Kal, is that you do right by this crest, and that you make it a symbol your mother and I would be proud of.
Extracts from Kam's video notes
It was a place of wonders, and quite hard to leave. Not that we got lost or anything, Kelex definitely wouldn't allow that kind of thing. It was just...seeing all those things...the trip with Ishy's father as he showed us solar systems light years ago, the destruction of stars and the creation of black holes, the seeding of life on lifeless worlds...
That English guy I mentioned before? Well, I couldn't help but sort of transpose – I think that's the right word for it – yeah...I couldn't help but transpose his voice over that of Ishy's father's...even though it isn't quite the sort of thing he made documentaries about...
Extract from Jawad's video interview
The day they left was hard. There are definitely other words you can use to describe it, but that's the one I'm going to stick to.
I wasn't like Kam – sure, we were both born and raised in the UK and we visited Pakistan regularly, but he had more of an affinity to this place than I did. Where we were both alike, though, was when it came to Ishy – our little brother.
I remember when he was sick and I ran back to the village. I remember my lungs burning as I ran and prayed and cried, terrified that he was going to die.
I remember the relief when Aunty Nadia said he was going to be okay.
I remember my voiceless scream when that man shot him.
Our village is small and many of us are close – honestly, I'm quite surprised by it because, back home in London, I know of people of similar backgrounds who don't have these kinds of ties. There are pros and cons, and I'm certainly more of a Londoner than I am...a...whatever else it is that people would describe me as, but I do like the fact that we're close. And I like the fact that we stood by each other, and Uncle and Aunty and Ishy.
I've heard it said that 'criminals are a cowardly and superstitious lot', and that's something I absolutely agree with when it comes to those gun-totting animals that attacked us. They never came back after what Ishy did to them. We expected them, too, but I'm pretty sure some of them pooed themselves and didn't want to risk another encounter.
Most of the villagers didn't know Ishy...wasn't of this world. It was us outsiders who knew: Aunty Nadia, Kam, and myself. For the villagers, he was a blessed kid. Never ill, never complaining, never acting out – to them, he was Uncle and Aunty's reward for their patience through all the years and all the miscarriages.
After the shooting he was regarded as even more blessed. I think some of them didn't accept or maybe understand that he was not of our world, but they embraced the fact that he was different. They knew of Moses (as) and his immense strength, for example, so I think that's how they interpreted Ishy's otherness: as blessings from Allah (swt) rather than him not even being human.
For those of us who knew, though, it was kind of a relief not to pretend anymore.
It's good seeing him again – seeing them both again.
Not too sure about this George guy, though. Sorry.
Seriously, I kind of freaked when Kam told me that George knew about Ishy. Maybe it's paranoia or something – more often than not, I've found, there's been some kind of ulterior motive, and the fact that Ishy is what he is...I mean, this kind of story could make someone's career, right?
George, if you're watching this, I mean to disrespect. Ishy trusts you, and that's good enough for his parents...but as...well, as a brother, I need to look out for him. If you're on the up and up then I know you understand.
Letters
Dear Ishy
AsSalaamu Alaikum Wa Rahmatullahi Wa Barakatu
I'm sorry it has taken me so long to write to you.
I'm sorry I was scared.
Thank you for saving me from those men.
Forgive me for being afraid and for not talking to you.
Please write back when you can.
Friends?
Lubna
Dearest Ishy
AsSalaamu Alaikum Wa Rahmatullahi Wa Barakatu
Insha'Allah, this letter will reach you. I tried emailing a few times to let you know how things are with us, but I don't know if you ever received them or read them. Insha'Allah, Kamran has told you we're okay. His parents weren't happy that he had decided to defer his start at university, but I've spoken to them about it at length about the benefits of him taking a gap year or two and, Insha'Allah, they are now a little more understanding, even if they are still annoyed with him.
Lubna is doing well, Alhumdulillah.
We can never thank you enough for what you did for her.
Your Aunty forever
Nadia
Dear Ishy
AsSalaamu Alaikum Wa Rahmatullahi Wa Barakatu
Please don't be angry with me. Please write back.
Please?
Waiting to hear from you.
Lubna
Extract from Jawad's notes
I didn't mean to bombard him with questions and ideas, but I suppose it was a result of having not seen or spoken to him for so long. Before the...
[I don't know...what's an appropriate name for it? 'Exodus' would mean lots of people leaving, wouldn't it? It wasn't an escape, really...]
Before he had had to leave over a year ago, we had been putting ideas forward as to how we could help develop the area. Business projects, energy projects...
When he came back from Kelex the first time, I showed him some of the things I had been working on and we spoke for hours. I think that introduction to his heritage ignited a fire in him, and his sense of creativity. He opened his satchel and pulled out some pieces of cloth:
'It's something I decided to develop when I first started moving fast enough to burn my clothes – after all, I can't just dash around naked, right, Bhai?' [By the way, I know he calls me that out of respect, but it makes me feel so old.] 'I figured there were two approaches: developing fabrics and textiles that could endure that kind of speed, or developing some kind of treatment that could be used to already existing fabrics and textiles, or on clothes themselves.'
He held up the blue one and gave it to me. It felt like wool, and it looked like something that could be used for a suit.
'These are ones that have been treated,' he said, as he took the fabric from me and laid it on the table. He handed me a large knife and told me to stab it onto the cloth and into the table. I did as he asked and the knife stuck fast into the table. He nodded and I pulled it back out...and there was no hole in the cloth. I stabbed at the cloth again and again and again, and nothing happened to it. I then pulled out a lighter and put the flame to the edge of it, and there was nothing. Not even a bit of smoke.
'There's a problem I need to work on. It's a little embarrassing but also quite amusing. The textile treatment I've developed has an unexpected side effect, regardless of the treatments the textiles have had beforehand, and even if no previous treatments have been made:
'All woollen material becomes blue.
'All cotton material becomes white
'All silk and polyester material becomes red.'
'I suppose it's okay if you were just making suits for office workers or something: blue suit, white shirt, and a red tie,' I said to him, grinning a little.