The clandestine meeting, arranged for through the passage of messages through a supposedly neutral intermediary, was to take place in a nondescript home in a remote village, one that she apparently now walked.
Not of this place, the visitor moved forward cautiously but confidently, making her way alone, as instructed. The late afternoon sun and heat remained oppressive, although the sky blue chadri she wore was cooler than she first imagined it might be when pulling it over her cargoes and tee shirt.
Encumbered by the head-covering portion, she felt unease with restricted vision, the covering only affording an opening on front of her face just around her eyes, with this modest opening crossed with wide mesh netting.
Minutes earlier, taking in her surroundings as best she could after disembarking from a rickety old bus, the alien traveller felt the pull of curiosity from the area’s diversity, of experiencing a new culture, a new place, a new people. In other times, she would welcome this experience, relish meeting the villagers and spending time learning of their lives.
The village she now walked through was of modest size, perhaps a cluster of forty homes. She could not even remember the village name now, silently admonishing herself for forgetting such a basic element of this effort. “Somewhere outside Betawul, southeast of Jalalabad,” she recalled, partially.
The homes were of like construction, sand coloured and made of mud-brick, one story, and modest in appearance. Clustered in the midst of a valley, farmlands surrounded the village, but in the distance, mountains claimed geographical stewardship of this area, a notoriously inhospitable environment not far from where Osama bin Laden was reputed to hide.
Walking down this street, shadows grew longer, reaching east-northeast, creating interesting geometric patterns as they found the unique configurations of an adjacent home. People worked around their property, although they were mostly women, dressed like she. Some turned and watched for a minute as she passed, recognising something different, someone different, in their midst.
Small villages in the isolated area were close-knit places, everyone knows everyone else. They did not know her, and she knew that despite her efforts to cloak in the dress of the villagers, she stood out.
Height was one immediate and obvious difference between them. Few women were as tall as she was in this region of the world. Another was her unfamiliarity with place and customs, but the major element of differentiation was being a stranger in a village that was home to perhaps 300 people in all.
Walking slowly, she tried to hold tight to patience. Her destination was somewhere in this village. Beyond that, it was a matter of walking and waiting.
The idea, the inclination to accept the mysterious and vague proposal, was a high-risk gamble from the beginning, one that prompted lively debate before the final decision to proceed.
Ten days before, Llhaesa received an anonymous request through back channels, asking her to meet with a high-ranking representative of the Taliban, the meeting purportedly to discuss ending the group’s efforts to seize control of Afghanistan, but do so in some way that allowed it to retain a semblance of dignity.
The risks outweighed the potential gains and they knew that from the outset. Jahrae objected to llhaesa attending, thinking that llhaesa was the one person among them who was indispensable, the one person among them who, in the Taliban’s hands as a captive, could serve to grab and sustain the attention of a world. Setting aside personal considerations, this reasoning held that it would show her powerless against them, and might well make subsequent change more difficult.
Jahrae instead proposed she should be the one to go. As Ambassador to Arrkarhara, as someone a bit less visible publicly yet experienced in negotiation, as one with diplomatic protection, there would be less attention and less potential threat, while subsequent extraction would also prove easier due to diplomatic status.
A lively debate ensued over which should go, but in the end and reluctantly, llhaesa agreed to this approach, though as usual, she would rather take risks herself and not jeopardise anyone else.
In order to avoid publicity, the second message they received indicated that llhaesa should travel by traditional means. This meant flying into Kabul, and then relying on unreliable means of ground transportation to navigate across some of the most dangerous, inhospitable environments in the world.
The anonymous, long-distance bargainers agreed on date and time, though the process of final agreement took three days. Jahrae set off, with Elsrensia implanting a chip that could track her whereabouts, and which Arrkarharan technology could not trace or discover.
The journey to Afghanistan took two days just to reach Kabul, and another day to Jalalabad. After four hours or riding in the rickety vehicle, Jahrae walked along, biding her time until others took her away.
It happened quickly. Two men stealthily approached from behind, each coming up alongside Jahrae and taking her arms firmly in their hands. The men guided her off the street and into one home, where they placed her in a room, leaving her alone.
At least a few hours passed, the day moving rapidly toward night, before someone re-entered the room. “We go now,” was all he said, his hand gesture more a command than call, his purpose to guide her to an enclosed outdoors area, one with but a hole in the ground and a small stone table off to the side. He left her without further comment. She knew its purpose, and put it to good use. Although Jahrae had not thought about the need to urinate, she felt some relief after the fact.
A bowl of water and accompanying towels sat on a small stone slab, and she used this to wash thereafter. Finished, she stepped out, where one person stepped forward and tied a black bandanna around her head, removing any ability to see.
Once again, two men guided her, stopping as she heard an electronic humming sound, and based on the movement of sound, they scanned her for electronics.
Satisfied she was clean of tracking or eavesdropping equipment, they guided her into a vehicle, pushing her inward. Based on voices, there were now men on either side of her in the vehicle, and two in front of her. The drive that followed proved long and boring, her stomach gaining queasiness from the combination of blindfold and jarring.
Sleep mercifully overtook her, only to have someone shake her awake, the vehicle now stopped. Her neck felt stiff from the odd angle at which she apparently slept, but she forgot about this as the man on the left pulled her out of the vehicle, unnecessarily rough in this action.
She stumbled while following their strong-armed guidance, stumbled again as she navigated up one short step, regaining her balance, moving forward. A door closed behind her, the blindfold promptly removed, soft candlelight flickering and teasing her eyes as she regained her vision.
Turning back and looking towards the door, Jahrae noted that those who brought her had disappeared. Taking in her surroundings, she startled as two men walked in from an adjacent room, each taking a seat in one of three chairs in the room, one facing in opposition to the other two, about two metres apart.
The singular chair was for her.
One man motioned for her to sit, and so she promptly dropped onto the chair. “I am removing my head covering now,” she spoke in passable Pashto. Jahrae pulled back the covering, liking the feel of fresh air around and on her face.
“You are Jahrae Khentavra, Ambassador of Arrhazon?” the one on the right asked.
“Yes,” she simply replied.
“What of your wife? We requested to meet with llhaesa. No matter now, you are here.
Why is it you wish to change our culture, Ms Khentavra? What is it you gain from this advocacy?”
“I gain nothing. Your world, this community, this culture, gains peace, prosperity, and the strength of having all its citizens strive to be all they wish to be in life.”
“Surely there is something in it for you; no one acts without the prospect of personal reward,” the man on the right countered.
“I am not in need of additional wealth, you should know this already, but if you do not, it is fact. Our combined assets, those of my wife and I, surpass that of anyone else on your world.
We have no use for most of it, well, we do; we put it to good use helping others through five foundations on Arrhazon, and three – so far – here.
Our relationship from the first has been about achieving peace and equality, working to build a society where we take care of one another, moving all prosperously into the future.
I assume you know we have a track record of success.”
“I am aware of your claims, Jahrae. It is obvious you have some resources at your disposal. I do not mean to suggest you lie, only that we do not have clear evidence of the full range of your wealth.
No matter, that is small talk.
Your advocacy would bring sin to our people, it would destroy our culture, pull them away from Allah. We…cannot have this, we cannot let this happen.”
“I do not wish to interfere in religion, whatever your name is. You could share it with me if you wish to continue this dialogue.
Anyway, I value your culture, but it can change and retain its uniqueness. What needs to change is your ill treatment of women, along with this incessant need to impose your religious beliefs upon people who should be free to decide for themselves.
Just to be clear, I have little use for missionaries from other religions showing up and trying to pressure people in different directions, yet another practise that must end, worldwide. People have minds; they can use them to decide for themselves.
I am curious; if you stand in opposition to my efforts and that of my team, why are you here and why are we talking today?”
“I am here to make our views known, not to you, but to the world.”
“You have a funny way of reaching out to share your views, given the secrecy involved.”
“Yes, well, we will make news when we are ready, not before.”
“Tell me, why do you believe yourself to be my equal?”
“I believe everyone is equal to one another.”
“Really now, that is an interesting but unrealistic point of view. For instance, I am stronger than my colleague on my right.”
“We all have our strengths and weaknesses, but it is important we make use of law; we must all be equal for society to grow and thrive, give room for us to develop our particular strengths.”
“I have yet to meet a woman who is my equal, Jahrae. Why is that?”
“Easy. You do not have a clear grasp of reality, and you assume your strengths outweigh the collective strengths of another. I would bet if I observed the women with whom you have contact, a different opinion would result.”
“You are an arrogant one; spirited, and feistier than most. It is a pleasure to take you as our hostage.
By the way, I am Mullah Mohammed Omar, you may have heard of me.”
“I have. And I must say, your conduct now in taking me hostage is typically dishonourable.”
Omar’s eyes flashed anger, but he maintained a smile of one believing he held the upper hand.
“Yes, well, words are cheap, Jahrae. Actions are what count, and right now, the Arrhazonan Ambassador to our world is now in the hands of the Taliban, who will demand a significant package of concession and assets before we agree to set you free.”
“No one will agree to your demands, Mohammed. In the end, you cannot defeat me or my people, never mind the will of a world.”
“Naturally you assume your wife will come to your rescue, but they will know that to do so will mean your death.”
“You keep telling yourself that. I hope no one dies in this, but if it happens, it won’t be me or one of us.”
Omar looked at her but said nothing, rising out of his chair and walking out, the mystery silent man leaving on his heels. Jahrae heard the door lock behind her, and knowing there would be no escape in the moment, she looked for a place to settle down and sleep.
In Henna, llhaesa impatiently waited for word from her partner. They agreed to allow an extra day post meeting time before she took action and set out to find Jahrae.
According to the tracking in the orbiting Arrhazonan ship, they knew her exact location, in a remote location of Afghanistan. Every now and then, llhaesa snuck out to Chekresu and activated the systems, checking to verify the signal still existed.
Still, waiting was frustrating, borne of ignorance of what happened in the meeting, with some sense of being limited in how she might respond if Jahrae was in peril.
Llhaesa did not have to wait long for news. A White House staffer called, asking if llhaesa could get to the White House within the next hour; President Ellenwood, now in her second term, had called an emergency meeting.
Llhaesa decided to take Baby Bay to Washington; that way, she need not bother anyone else capable of flying Chekresu along with her. She did decide to take Addison, valuing her daughter’s opinions, with the expectation that if anything untoward unfolded, Addison would be wishing to help.
Her stomach knotted from worry, llhaesa flew them to their destination without engaging in playful antics. Something was up, and until it resolved, she was all business.
Upon landing at the White House, staff escorted llhaesa and Addison to the Oval Office, where President Ellenwood waited along with Marcia Paang and surprisingly, Susan Woodward. The friends exchanged greetings, all expressing surprise over and approval for Addison’s presence.
“From all I have seen and heard, Addison,” the President remarked, “you are quite a capable young woman, one who can be of assistance now.”
The President did not wait for a response, instead choosing to get into the matter at hand. “I regret to say this, but Jahrae is now a captive of the Taliban.”
Llhaesa was unsurprised by this news; she knew they would not act honourably. “How did you learn of this, Alicia?” llhaesa inquired.
“Our embassy in Kabul received this, it was delivered by currier.” The President handed over a two-page document, one written in English, informing of Jahrae now being a captive and listing the demands the captors wished met.
“It is signed by Omar,” the President pointed out.
“Excuse me,” llhaesa calmly offered, leaving her chair and moving away from the group. The others watched as she dialled her mobile, connecting to AISV llhaesa ahrella t’yaeli. “Commander H’ahlser,” she called out, directing the automated system.
“H’ahlser here.”
“Commander, this is llhaesa. I am in the office of President Ellenwood in Washington. The United States government has received information that Jahrae is now a hostage of the Taliban.
Please institute additional surveillance measures on her indicated location, and initiate a plan to rescue. Just plan for now, we will decide on our course once we have more information, of which that planning is a part.”
“Understood, llhaesa, we will begin this work immediately. Oh, and llhaesa…hang in there, she will be all right.
I will speak with you in a bit after looking over our information.
H’ahlser out.”
Llhaesa had decided to put their conversation on speaker, allowing the others to hear.
“At least we have her location, llhaesa, not that they will keep her there. How reliable are those tracking transmitters?”
It isn’t a transmitter; the system is passive, and our systems detect distinctive natural emissions that are unique to Arrhazon. On this world, that stands out sharply.
Even if they moved Jahrae a mile underground, in all likelihood, we would still detect that unique signature.”
“Is it a metal?” Susan wished to know.
“No; at least not a metal anyone on this world would know, Susan. If they scan for metals, they will not find that chip.”
Llhaesa’s mobile rang off, and seeing the caller’s identity, she answered immediately. “Yes, Commander?”
“Jahrae is being moved, llhaesa. She is on her way into the mountains on foot, though our visual reconnaissance indicates she is all right, not tied and bound.
It will not be easy to complete a successful rescue. Taking out the weapons will still leave trained fighters who can do much harm without weaponry.
My best recommendation is for us to work stealthily, but avoiding bloodshed might not be possible this time.
There are approximately twenty of the Taliban with her, all heavily armed, and she is in the middle of that pack, moving upslope.
We mapped out their course; several trails lie ahead of them they might follow. We have followed each one from here, and interestingly, one leads to a cave.
Our sensors indicate the cave is deep and naturally suited to a good defence from within. We have surveillance in place inside, so we have that advantage.”
“Good work, Commander. We are continuing to discuss options here. I will get back to you when I arrive at home.” Llhaesa folded her mobile and turned to the others, ready to resume their conversation.
“I agree with what you just said, llhaesa. At least we have location and good information, something not often available to us in hostage situations, particularly in that part of the world,” Alicia opined.
“Mum, I am not at all certain a large team can achieve what we need to accomplish. In my opinion, those present spoil for a fight, and a full on assault will just escalate into unpredictability,” Addie offered, sharing her thoughts for the first time.
Everyone looked toward her, surprised at the young woman’s cogent and pragmatic evaluation.
“That makes sense, Addison,” Marcia Paang concurred. “The question becomes “if not that, what then?”
“Then…a small team goes in, and that small team will be mum ‘essa, Commander H’ahlser, and…me.”
Everyone looked at her again, stunned, clearly disapproving of her inclusion. Llhaesa tried a tactful approach. “Addie, I know you care, and in fact you are capable. You are also not quite 17, and we cannot allow you to risk your life.”
The others nodded in agreement, but Addie was having none of that reasoning. “Mum, I may not yet be 17, but I am athletic and think on my feet. You know I can handle myself, and if anyone doubts that, show me to a gym; in ten minutes, you will change your mind.
There are other reasons. Mum and I are virtual twins in appearance, something that can be used to our advantage, and a split second of uncertainty on their part can make all the difference.
In addition, they think lightly of women in general, and do not believe women are capable of putting up an effective fight against them. They would be in for an unexpected surprise.
We are highly motivated, we fight for our family, and if they think of themselves as motivated, it pales compared to ours.
Finally, our intangible connection, mum, will serve us well in those conditions.”
Llhaesa was unsure whether to feel pride over her daughter’s reasoned analysis, or just play parent and dismiss her points no matter how valid.
Curiosity stirred in the others, with Susan giving voice to the question on all of their minds. “What intangible connection are you referring to, Addison?”
“I will answer this one, Addie,” llhaesa jumped in, knowing this might surface, but hoping it would not. Now, it was best she explained. “You can see the tangible connections between us, a mother and daughter that look eerily like identical twins, and the similarities extend beyond what you see, to our skill, our intelligence, and so on.
There is more. Addison can feel the emotion within me, as I can within her.”
Alicia looked at llhaesa, her eyes studying, while her mind evaluated. “Llhaesa, what you both feel is a flimsy, intuitional connection at best, not something to rely on in such trying circumstance.”
“Actually, it is neither flimsy nor unreliable. This connection worked even when I was on Arrhazon and Addison was here. Now if it works across 51 light years of open space, I would imagine it would work within one cave, no matter how big.
Addison, would you please step out of the room, walk away from the door, walk down a hall, anything away from here. One of us will get you when we are ready.”
“All right, mother.” Addison got up and left. Once the door closed behind her, llhaesa turned to the others, explaining. “I am going to do a few things involving emotion. When Addison comes back in, ask her what she felt.”
Llhaesa put her left hand on the President’s desk, and promptly smashed a finger with the fist of her right hand, just enough to make it hurt for a minute or so. “Ouch, damn that smarts!”
Letting the pain fade, llhaesa thought of her dad, of how she missed him, of his gentleness, his support and belief in his daughter, his encouraging her to believe herself equal. Her eyes began to water, and a few tears slid down, two on one side of her face, one on the other.
Susan handed her a tissue, which she used to wipe away the tears. “All right, one of you pick another emotion,” llhaesa requested.
“Anger, and then embarrassment,” Marcia called out.
Llhaesa thought about Jahrae as captive, rising out of her chair, working to peel back the inner constraints that normally steered her away from anger. “I am sick and tired of these idiot terrorists messing with people, damn!”
Another adjustment period followed as llhaesa shifted her thoughts to her silly comments during appendix surgery. Her face turned red, cluing in the others watching.
“All right, that should do it. Marcia, would you go get my daughter, please?”
Two minutes later, Addison walked in with Marcia, retaking the chair she vacated minutes before.
“Addie,” Alicia asked, “did you sense any emotion emanating from your mother while you were out of the room?”
“Oh, yes! Mum, you injured a finger not long after I walked out. You thought of your dad and cried thereafter. That was followed by anger over mum J’har, and embarrassment over your comments post surgery.”
“Astounding, simply astounding,” Alicia pronounced. “That is extraordinary. Does it get in your way at times?”
“No,” Addison spoke right up, now comfortable in this environment. “It can be amusing, but it can also be a big help to one or the other. I appreciate and treasure this gift of the universe.
Now does that settle that aspect of things? The best way to approach this is a three-person team. You can have backup ready to go, but let us infiltrate that cave, and give us a chance to rescue before the remaining force acts.”
Llhaesa could not believe she was about to agree to this plan, but in her mind, Addison was right.
