Inverted Image (Part 3)

A Fantasy Novel

Chapter Twelve

News of the young Researchers who had recently arrived in this corner of Antrototo spread quickly, and with it came chaos, argument, and fear. Their speeches stirred an uproar because the young men refused to remain a secret.

At first they had slipped into the library pretending to be ordinary believers. After paying the guards — the guardians of the illusion — they had managed to smuggle scientific books and research papers about science and logic onto the shelves. Gradually, they began explaining their ideas and discussing them with anyone who visited the library to strengthen his faith by reading the religious, spiritual, and supposedly sacred books that filled the place with praise for Antar and his followers.

But the situation changed because of these young Researchers.

Antar and his followers branded them outlaws, apostates, immoral troublemakers, unbelievers in the god Antar, and enemies of his religion. The Researchers, however, were brave enough to choose truth over safety. They knew they were risking punishment, but preferred exposing Antar’s lies and those of his preachers and followers to remaining silent.

There was a particular cruelty in being someone who knew the truth while everyone around him remained trapped in deception. Worse still, these young Researchers had been among the first to discover it, and once a person recognizes what he believes to be true, it becomes almost unbearable to watch it crushed beneath a lie.

Antar did not take the development calmly.

He went mad with rage as reports spread that the Researchers were gaining followers. He imprisoned his own guards, insulted them, tortured them, and punished them brutally. Only days earlier he had called them his angels.

Then he discovered that without their cooperation, the young Researchers could never have entered his public library disguised as ordinary readers. They had paid the guards to let them in, and the scientific material had gradually spread across the shelves beside Antar’s sacred books.

Soon the scientific books began attracting readers.

People were searching through them, discussing them, and returning to them voluntarily.

That was the part that terrified Antar most.

A significant number of people in this region began accepting the Researchers’ arguments. They started trusting the scientific books and logical studies circulating in the library. Some readers carried those ideas beyond the region, and before long reports reached other parts of Antrototo.

People were slowly drifting away from Antar’s religion.

Some openly rejected belief in his divinity. Others stopped following any of his religious systems altogether.

Even the three preachers could not regain the influence they once had. Their polished sermons, dramatic warnings, and elaborate religious lectures no longer had the magical effect they had once held over the believing servants.

Antar responded as tyrants usually do when persuasion begins to fail: he ordered the arrest of anyone caught studying with the Researchers, anyone who followed them, and anyone who adopted their ideas or abandoned the Antarian religion.

Those who secretly stopped believing therefore learned to live like ghosts.

They concealed the truth even from people closest to them.

Some belonged to families that remained loyal to Antar, so they feared telling their own relatives. They might be condemned, reported, or exposed to one of Antar’s men or one of his preachers.

As a result, many pretended to remain faithful.

They acted as though they still worshiped Antar day and night, prayed to him, praised him, and believed he had created Antrototo, the heavens, the earth, the seas, the water, and every living creature.

Fear made them actors in their own homes.

They had heard about people dying in Antar’s prisons under torture. Even the guards who once stood at the doors of the library were arrested, tortured, and killed after Antar learned that they had helped the Researchers.

Anyone who abandoned Antar’s religion therefore disappeared from view. He became careful, silent, invisible.

Among the remaining believers, he continued to act like one of them — a loyal servant of Antar, convinced that Antar was the creator of Antrototo and everything in it.

The performance was not for religion alone. It was survival.

He had to protect his family and children, and above all, he had to protect himself.

Because everyone knew what awaited those who were exposed: prison, torture, and, sooner or later, death.

One day, the magician Samson entered Antar’s palace and found him sitting heavily in his chair, worry written across his broad face. His lips were tightly pressed together, and anger seemed to drip from his eyes.

After the guards admitted Samson, he approached Antar, who was visibly agitated.

“Damn these new traitors,” Antar said. “They are spreading like wildfire. We have to stop them.”

“What are we waiting for?” Antar demanded himself a moment later. “Arrest them. Throw them into prison. Let them die there.”

“That is already being done, my lord,” Samson replied. “We have captured several of them. The rest fled and disappeared from the region. We are still hunting them.”

Antar glared at him.

“Then why won’t you let me order the prisoners killed? Killing them is the least they deserve.”

“Because we need their confessions,” Samson said. “If you kill them too quickly, their secret dies with them. We need to know where they got these scientific books and studies, how they found their authors, and who is financing them.

“There must be someone behind them — a group, an organization, someone using them to pursue another agenda. We need to know who.”

A mocking smile appeared at the corner of Samson’s mouth.

“And really, my lord, do you believe their story? They claim they are merely young Researchers who questioned things, used their minds, studied, analyzed, and eventually concluded that the entire idea of faith and a creator god is false — and that you are nothing more than a lie or a fantasy.”

Antar slowly raised his head.

“Are you saying I am a lie?”

Samson smiled.

“No, no, my lord.”

He leaned closer and lowered his voice.

“I would never say such a thing. You know better than anyone that I know the truth of your divinity. You are a real god. Your divinity is real.

“The problem is their minds.

“They have moved.

“They have escaped their chains.

“They have begun to think.

“And thinking has led them to these outrageous conclusions.”

Samson paused, his expression hardening.

“Our real enemy now is thought itself — and logical analysis. We need to know who is behind these Researchers, who pushed them onto the path of reason, and who taught them to use their minds.”

He lowered his voice almost to a whisper.

“Ah, the mind.

“It is the one true enemy of faith.

“It is the weapon that can defeat belief and destroy it.

“And now it threatens your divine throne, my lord. It threatens not only belief in you but belief itself.

“These Researchers claim that rational thought and logical evidence contradict blind supernatural faith. They boast in the name of science and scientists. They reject your decision to hide your divine presence from them.

“They say they will never believe in a god they cannot see. They say you are nothing more than an authoritarian ruler. And if you were truly a god, they argue, you would not be hiding from them behind the excuse that your divine nature is too overwhelming for ordinary humans.

“They say your disappearance is evidence of deception.

“And all of it is caused by that cursed thing — thinking.”

Antar struck the arms of his throne.

“Curse this thinking! Curse these minds that want to gnaw into my divine identity like termites into wood.

“Tell me, Samson. What exactly are they thinking? What are they saying about me? Why don’t they believe in my divinity?

“Why?”

He repeated the question while hammering both hands against the throne.

Samson answered patiently.

“They ask why they have not been able to communicate with you since you declared yourself divine.

“They ask why, from that moment onward, they have been unable even to detect you or find evidence that you are still present among them.

“They ask why you hide so completely.

“Why did you become so determined to disappear from their sight after becoming a god?

“They see no sign of you, no shadow, no physical trace.

“They see only your sacred books, your commandments, your laws, and your messengers.

“You never speak to them yourself. Your representatives speak for you inside your books.

“They ask: Why are you hidden?”

Antar frowned.

“Didn’t my preachers answer all these questions? Didn’t they repeat their explanations to every believing servant? Didn’t I hear the applause? Didn’t I know how enthusiastic they became whenever the preachers explained why I could not appear?

“Didn’t those answers satisfy everyone?

“Didn’t they strengthen faith?”

“They did,” Samson said. “The preachers explained that you do not reveal yourself in this worldly life out of mercy and concern for the bodies of your servants, whom you created too fragile to endure seeing you.

“They said you would allow the faithful to see you in the afterlife as a reward for believing in you without demanding physical proof.

“They said the faithful accepted your divinity without evidence, trusted you, and therefore deserved eternal reward — but not here, on Antrototo. Their reward comes only after death, in another life.

“On this planet, they said, seeing you is impossible.

“I watched people respond to those explanations with amazement. They found them comforting. The explanations soothed their questions.

“More importantly, they killed the urge to think.

“Thinking was left there like a corpse.”

Antar’s voice shook with anger.

“So what happens now? Why did these Researchers appear and ruin everything? Why have they turned my comfort and happiness into misery and hell?”

“Do not worry, my lord,” Samson replied. “I will put an end to this as soon as possible.

“From this day forward, thinking itself will be treated as a forbidden activity in matters of faith. We will issue a decree forbidding analysis and independent reasoning whenever the divine identity is concerned.

“Reason is forbidden.

“Anger is mandatory.

“And woe to anyone who asks questions whose answers might disturb him.

“Woe to anyone who thinks, investigates, or dares to challenge the unseen claims of the divine order.”

As for Aref, nothing changed outwardly. But Nasr’s fear grew after everything that had happened.

Aref had decided to end his relationship with Hind. He had avoided her long enough, and now he intended to tell her the truth and accept whatever followed.

He told himself that if she truly loved him, she would not betray him. She would keep his secret. Eventually, however, she would have to confront his ideas, and he would have to confront hers.

He hoped he could persuade her to reconsider faith.

Aref finally met her.

He forced himself to face the possibility of any reaction she might have, hoping her shock would be temporary and that eventually she would examine his arguments with reason.

He trusted their closeness. He trusted the love between them.

He did not want to lose her.

Their first meeting took place near the small hill behind the green fields, where they often sat together and talked.

Aref looked at her with sadness written across his face. His voice was tender, carrying as much love as it did confusion, anxiety, and fear.

He gave her a faint, almost exhausted smile.

“It hurts terribly to laugh when I should be crying.

“But what hurts even more — what feels like being cut from one vein to the other — is the thought of you rejecting me without a reason, without a crime, except for the fact that I once believed.

“I believed.

“I trusted.

“I accepted.

“I was raised in it until the belief became part of my breathing. It flowed through my veins, through every part of my body.

“Everyone around me applauded. They praised what I believed. They celebrated my faith.

“I sometimes felt as though they had been feeding me all of it from my mother’s breast.

“I didn’t invent this belief.

“I didn’t create this invisible faith.

“I swallowed it drop by drop from the moment I was born.

“Before I could even say ‘Mother’ or ‘Father,’ I had already been given the language that told me what to believe.

“And I treated it as certainty itself.”
“They were simple-minded because faith had trained them not to think — to believe without question and to remain certain in order to receive forgiveness from the merciful Antarian god.

“That was the beginning.

“The beginning of the great deception. The beginning of the lie that brought us to where we are now and where we are heading.

“The whole system depends on the existence of evil and on the whispers attributed to Saman, the ‘cursed’ enemy. That is what the preachers work with. It is the foundation of their livelihood.

“As long as Saman is supposedly alive among us, money and wealth can keep moving from the pockets of wealthy, frightened believers into the pockets of the preachers.

“If Saman died, their god would lose his enemy — and the preachers would lose one of their most useful sources of income.

“So the preachers need him. And Antar needs him.

“Antar keeps presenting himself as the hero who fights Saman’s evil, while Saman supposedly hates him, challenges him, and spends his days trying to lure believing servants away from the divine path.

“Antar claims the battle is between good and evil.

“What a convenient story.

“The god gets to play the legendary hero, while Saman provides the villain.

“The believers are told to stay silent, listen, obey, and never question anything if they want to become ‘true’ servants and ‘true’ believers. If they question, they are branded impure, corrupt, or deserving of divine anger.

“Everybody benefits.

“The religious merchants profit from fear.

“The god-ruler profits from having an enemy.

“And the enemy profits the story itself.

“Saman supposedly deceives the believers, while Antar warns them about Saman, rewards anyone who avoids him, and punishes anyone who follows him.

“And the great judgment always comes later — after death.

“How could faith be measured any other way?

“Isn’t the whole arrangement carefully cooked and beautifully packaged so that every party gets something from it?

“As long as the cause remains, the whole machinery remains.

“And who pays the price?

“You and me.

“All those gullible believers who sold their minds and stomped on them for the sake of faith.

“Without that surrender, they would no longer qualify as believers.

“That is the reality. The story of Saman’s whispers has been welded to the story of the preachers, the religion, and the god. It is a business — a business that promises returns after death.

“It is the old stick-and-carrot game.

“The believing servant becomes a donkey running all day after a carrot dangling from a hard, splintered stick. Every time he slows down, the stick hurts him. So he keeps running, carrying his master’s burdens from one place to another because he fears the blows and longs for the carrot dancing temptingly before his eyes.

“He never gets the carrot.

“He never escapes the stick.

“He keeps dreaming of the reward and trembling at the punishment until he dies exhausted, his body marked by the blows, still waiting for the promised prize.

“That is what we believers have been like.

“That is what we still are.

“That is the truth connecting Saman’s supposed whispers to the religion-and-god machine from its very roots.

“Listen to the whole story. Perhaps then you will believe me.”

The story, Aref explained, began at the very dawn of human consciousness. The first human being stood beneath the sun on Antrototo and, for the first time, looked beyond the stars and imagined a great god who loved goodness.

Or at least, that was what he hoped.

That was what he wanted to believe.

With the limited knowledge and simple reasoning available to him, he needed an explanation for the world around him.

Then he turned his back on the light of the sun and saw his own shadow spreading across the ground.

Suddenly he imagined that he had discovered another truth.

He declared that somewhere inside the earth lay an evil force, a hidden whisperer that tempted human beings and loved destruction.

Its name was Saman.

Saman would supposedly take human form while remaining fundamentally different from humans because he was a deceiver who loved evil.

And so the first human mind stood between two imagined powers.

One power seemed to belong to him — to elevate him, bless him, and draw him upward toward goodness.

The other seemed to fight him, seduce him, and pull him toward darkness.

Humanity spent centuries caught between the two.

One force was imagined as lifting the human soul upward, while the other dragged it into darkness.

Yet the people who told these stories did not really understand what “blessing,” “goodness,” “curse,” or “darkness” meant in any objective sense.

Humanity simply remained suspended between opposing symbols, like a plant covered by spring flowers on one side and withered beneath the sadness of autumn on the other.

Then civilization arrived.

The modern ages emerged on Antrototo. Tribes grew larger. Families and households formed. Trades and professions multiplied.

People made pottery and clay objects, like Aref’s grandfather. Others farmed. Some made clothing. Others smelted metals from beneath the earth.

These occupations had natural explanations. People needed them to survive.

But one profession appeared that had no obvious biological or practical necessity.

The profession of priests.

The profession of religious preaching and spiritual guidance.

That profession was invented by human beings.

From that day on, priests and preachers warned people about evil and the traps of Saman, whom they imagined living underground. At the same time, they praised goodness, blessing, and the protection of a powerful deity believed to live high above the world.

This god was described as pure light and goodness, too great to be seen because nothing could compare with him. He was supposedly beyond explanation and beyond ordinary human perception.

The preaching profession grew because it served the interests of those who controlled it.

Those who claimed authority over divine interpretation built a system that met their own needs, protected their own influence, and provided them with money and comfortable lives.

They called it service to the loving god of goodness.

They called it the pursuit of divine approval.

They called it protection from the evil whispers of Saman.

Then one night, a tribal chief looked up at the moon and saw it darkened by a great eclipse.

Neither he nor his people understood that this was a natural event.

They had no astronomy to explain it. They simply stared at the strange darkness and said:

“Look at the god! How sad and miserable he is. He has been darkened by the evil power that is trying to extinguish the light of goodness.

“Look at him. He must be angry with us because we have done nothing to help him.”

Among the crowd stood a man who loved laziness and hated physical labor.

He did not enjoy tending animals, crafting tools, farming, or doing any of the hard work required to earn a living.

He wanted easy money.

He wanted quick profit without the sweat.

Because he avoided labor, he often went to bed hungry, physically exhausted, and with almost nothing to eat.

That night he stepped out of his tent and joined the others staring at the moon.

He had seen an eclipse many times before and had never cared much about it.

But now he saw an opportunity.

The idea struck him like lightning.

He cleared his throat, stepped into the middle of the crowd, and began speaking in a booming, theatrical voice packed with deception.

“The evil force is trying to extinguish the light and blessing of the god of goodness,” he told them.

“It is fighting him.

“And the god of the night is angry because you have failed him.

“You must come to his defense.

“Kneel.

“Bow your faces into the dirt.

“Repent.

“Submit yourselves to the god of goodness and light.

“Beg him to forgive your failure and remove his anger.

“Then help him defeat the evil god so the darkness will be driven back into the earth forever.”

The people listened.

His words were strange, powerful, and theatrical.

They began to kneel.

They bowed.

They prayed to the darkened moon, which they now regarded as the god of the night.

They begged.

They pleaded.

About half an hour passed.

Then the darkness slowly disappeared.

The black shadow covering the moon moved away, and the moonlight returned bright and round.

The lazy con man looked toward the moon and turned triumphantly toward the crowd.

“See?” he said. “The moon has returned to its light because you prayed and bowed to the god of the night. His anger is gone.”

The people stared upward in wonder.

The tribal chief stared too.

They celebrated the victory of good over evil.

They believed the god would now shower them with gifts and favor.

The con man had used nothing but coincidence, clever words, and human ignorance — but he had built himself an empire overnight.

The chief summoned him.

“You have accomplished something important,” the chief told him. “You have shown us knowledge that no one else possessed. From this moment on, you will stand immediately below me.

“I possess political power, authority, strength, and force.

“You possess knowledge, wisdom, and access to the spiritual secrets of the gods.

“From now on you will be my intermediary. You will tell me what the gods want, what they need, what I must do for them, and what I must avoid. You will tell me how to win their approval.”

The man immediately inflated his credentials.

“I see what the gods see in dreams,” he claimed. “I learn in sleep what will anger them, what will earn their love, and what will bring their punishment.”

The chief was delighted.

At once he rewarded the impostor with livestock, money, wealth, a large tract of land, workers to cultivate it, and a house nearly as impressive as the chief’s own.

From that day forward, the con man became a wealthy lord living on the ruler’s generosity.

The ruler, in return, used his advice to strengthen his political control.

The chief ordered that the preacher receive a share of every harvest.

It was a profitable partnership.

Just before the new holy man left, the chief stopped him.

“One thing still bothers me,” he said. “We know the god of the night. We feel his presence and pray to him so that he will defeat the evil god.

“But who is this evil god?

“Where does this evil power live?

“Who is the enemy that keeps fighting our good god?”

The con man froze.

For a few moments he had no answer.

He rubbed his forehead as though trying to squeeze a drop of inspiration out of a completely dry mind.

Then he said:

“Long ago, before humans existed, there were many gods.

“They lived together peacefully. They were happy and prosperous.

“At the center of them stood the god of gods — their father, their elder, and their ruler.

“He knew what they did not know.

“He could do what none of them could do.

“He called himself all-powerful, all-wise, and all-knowing. He kept certain eternal secrets and divine laws for himself.

“One day, one of the gods — perhaps the one closest to him — approached him angrily.

“He said, ‘Why do you keep all the secrets for yourself? Why do you alone possess absolute power, complete knowledge, and ultimate authority? Am I not one of your closest companions? Am I not your son? Why do you hide all of this from me?’

“The disagreement grew.

“The father of the gods refused to surrender the secrets.

“He said, ‘I am the beginning and the end. I am first and last. I alone possess the complete divine wisdom.’

“The rebellious god replied, ‘Then if you refuse to give me the knowledge and power you possess, I will rebel against you. I and my children and grandchildren will defy you forever.’

“The god of gods rose from his throne.

“He turned the sun, stars, and heavens into weapons of authority and shouted with thunderous anger:

“‘Then descend, you rebellious creature. Leave my paradise. Go into the depths of the earth. You are cursed and banished from my mercy. You will never again taste my paradise or my love.’

“And so the rebel was sent below, where the evil spirits supposedly lived.

“From that moment on, he swore to set traps for anyone who tried to draw close to the great god.

“He would tempt anyone who loved the supreme deity and lead them away from goodness, light, and blessing.”

The tribal chief nodded slowly.

“Then that is the evil god — and those are the evil forces we must fight. We must resist desire and temptation and refuse to become intoxicated by pleasure.”

Aref looked at his grandfather.

“I think that story gives us the exact profile of Saman. It is the same story the preachers later told us about Antar and Saman — the embodiment of evil.”

From that day on, the profession of priesthood flourished.

The lazy con man became one of the richest men in the region. Gifts poured into his house. The tribal chief consulted him about everything.

He appointed him an adviser on religion and government.

The adviser could issue religious approval for whatever the ruler wanted to do. He could turn political decisions into sacred commandments.

The chief, in turn, found someone who could weave arguments for him, identify enemies, approve friends, and give divine language to political control.

Religion and government became partners.

Every ruler wanted a preacher who could justify his interests with holy words.

Tongues were silenced.

Minds went to sleep.

Faith became a powerful sedative.

Aref looked at Hind.

“And after all that, you still want me to defend faith and go back to the way I was?”

She looked at him with defiance.

“But none of this proves that faith is false. It does not prove that God does not exist.

“What you have said sounds like drops of rain falling onto barren land. You have given me words, but only words. They echo like drums and accomplish nothing.

“God exists. He created existence. Nothing you have said proves the opposite.

“You cannot change that simply by talking to me.

“All I hear in this is Saman whispering through you.”

“That,” Aref replied, “is nonsense.”

“What evidence do you have that what I said is nonsense?”

“What evidence do you have that your god exists?

“What evidence is there that your faith is anything more than blind faith?

“What logical proof supports your absolute confidence in it?

“Where is the logic in faith?

“The two move in opposite directions. Logic demands evidence. Faith, by definition, asks for surrender without sufficient evidence.

“If you had one clear, tangible, logical proof, then perhaps you would no longer need to call it faith.

“So on what basis did you build this absolute, unseeing certainty?

“You are not following reason. You are following emotion saturated with supernatural ideas that cannot be independently demonstrated.

“Your beliefs are like a feather in the wind, tossed from side to side.

“At least what I am saying is grounded in research, experiments, observations, and logical arguments. I am willing to doubt because doubt can lead to investigation.

“I want to search for evidence.

“I want to know.”

“It’s Saman’s whispering,” Hind repeated.

Aref smiled bitterly.

“Saman — the poor man. What a convenient scapegoat for all these people.

“They needed him to be guilty. They built a plan around turning him into a trap, then used him as a bridge toward their own interests and profits while manipulating the lives of everyone around them.

“They made him into a fake mask, a costume they could put on whenever they wanted to frighten people.

“They exploited him mercilessly.

“Meanwhile, the Antarian god became the legendary hero fighting this poor imaginary villain.

“Antar needed to cast himself as the champion of good and peace, so he made Saman the icon of evil, temptation, and hell.

“Saman became the reason for every sin.

“Antar became the supreme ruler holding the keys to goodness and paradise.
“And he becomes the one who forgives, pardons, and overlooks sins, the one who loves anyone who draws close to him, rewards those who obey, and punishes those who keep their distance. Suddenly he holds the scepter of the universe, and the simple believers rush to please the god they have been told to fear, desperately trying to stay away from Saman.

“And poor Saman is left standing there watching them, crushed by misery.

“What the preachers have been pouring into your ears day and night is a lie. They taught you that Saman was naturally rebellious, hateful, and treacherous, that he betrayed the divine ruler Antar and refused to obey him.

“But if you followed the path of reason and used the minds you were given, you would see the reason for everything around you.

“You would ask why this authoritarian ruler suddenly disappeared after declaring himself divine.

“You would think.

“And once you did, the whole story would begin to unravel.

“They set the trap for Saman long before he ever became the monster of your religious stories. He worked in the ruler’s palace, and the minister and Antar’s advisers planned it together.

“The logical conclusion is that Saman was framed. They arranged accusations of forgery and theft involving the palace accounts and the money under his supervision. Once the accusation was ready, they began executing their larger plan: turn Saman into the symbol of evil, and elevate their ruler — who had suddenly transformed himself into a god — into the hero of the cosmic drama.

“They needed a villain to flatter Antar’s ego, satisfy his vanity, and secure their own interests.

“And to hell with everyone else.”

Hind looked at Aref in disbelief.

“I don’t understand you. What interests are you talking about?

“Saman was a cursed traitor. He rebelled against God. He was one of the lost. He spent his life misleading believers and dragging them away from the straight path and the promised paradise.”

“And that,” Aref said, “is exactly the heart of the matter.

“You keep insisting that Saman was the real culprit. But what if he never wanted to become the villain they made him into?

“What if they created him that way?

“What if they invented the entire role and simply assigned it to him?

“Would you believe that?”

“Of course not.”

“Then listen.

“Saman did not know what they were planning. I am talking about Antar and the people around him in the palace.

“They wanted to turn Saman into a thief. They altered, forged, and falsified the records he had prepared and placed him at the center of a carefully constructed case.

“And through that case they wrote the first outline of the great Antarian divine drama.

“The original plot began with the creation myth: Antar is the creator, he makes the first human, then creates men and women from that first human, and all the people of Antrototo become his descendants.

“According to the same story, Saman hates this first human immediately and refuses to bow before him, unlike the other soldiers of Antar whom Antar calls his angels.

“But none of it happened.

“It is a fabricated story designed to make a ruler into a god and a hero. It turns him into the embodiment of good and tells ordinary people that he has an opposite force embodying evil.

“Then the two are placed in an eternal struggle.

“Saman becomes the villain who wants to mislead humanity because he supposedly hates Antar for expelling him from the palace.

“But stop for a second.

“If Antar truly is God, why would he allow a creature he supposedly created to disobey him, defy him, threaten him, and stand against his will?

“How could a created being openly reject its creator and then announce that it would mislead every human being on the planet?

“And how could it do all of this while supposedly knowing the punishment awaiting it?

“The preachers also claim that Saman knew long before anyone else that Antar was a god because he had once been close to him and had been entrusted with this secret.

“Then why would he suddenly turn against him while knowing that he was challenging an omnipotent deity who would send him to eternal hell?

“Would anyone knowingly choose eternal torture when he could simply obey?

“What exactly would he gain from it?”

Aref turned toward Hind.

“That leaves us with only two possibilities.

“Either Saman knew that Antar was not a god — or Saman initially knew nothing about the lie and was simply innocent of the story that was later attached to him.

“And there is strong evidence for the second possibility.

“Saman himself tried to defend his innocence after he was accused of stealing and falsifying the palace accounts. He repeatedly apologized and tried to explain himself.

“He went to Antar’s men and soldiers and asked them to intercede for him so he could regain his position.

“He was horrified when rumors spread that he had been cursed, that he was secretly whispering to people, that he had escaped prison and was living in disguise, pretending to be dead while secretly plotting against believing servants.

“He begged everyone to have mercy on him.

“He said he wanted to remain a good man. He wanted peace. He wanted goodness and light. He did not want to become the evil character everyone suddenly believed him to be.

“He could not understand what had happened to Antar’s identity as a god. He claimed he had never known about such a transformation.

“For nights he cried and pleaded, asking people to remove the filthy label that had been forced onto him.

“Once, when people had respected him — some had even revered him — he went to one of the palace priests, the same priests who received offerings and watched people bow before them.

“Saman entered humbly and in despair. Grief seemed to pour from his face.

“‘All I want,’ he told the priest, ‘is to be a good man. I want to belong to the side of goodness. I have put down my weapons. I have abandoned the struggle. I want light, not darkness.

“‘I want this terrible accusation removed from my name. People believe I am evil now, but I am not.’

“The priest pointed at him with contempt.

“‘You are Saman the Cursed now,’ he said. ‘How could you possibly return to the ranks of the good?

“‘And tell me, how can the divine ruler Antar become a god who fights evil if there is no evil to fight?

“‘Who will he punish? Who will he reward?

“‘If there is no tempter whispering to unbelievers, who is going to perform that role?

“‘How can the god have divine majesty if every believing servant does not fear him, fear his punishment, and crave his forgiveness and paradise?

“‘How will we frighten them into obedience if they are not convinced that temptation is waiting everywhere?

“‘How will we tell the great story about Antar, the god who fights evil embodied in you?

“‘Without you, the story collapses.

“‘You are the center of the whole case.

“‘If people discover that you are not evil and that you do not whisper to them, then the god disappears as well.

“‘No. Your role is assigned to you.

“‘Think of it as a noble sacrifice. You must wear the costume of evil for Antar’s sake.

“‘If you want his forgiveness and approval, you must make the sacrifice.

“‘Anyone who truly loves another must sacrifice for him.

“‘This is the role written for you. There is no escape.

“‘And without you, how would we have an afterlife, judgment, punishment, heaven, and hell?

“‘What would Antar judge people for without you?

“‘Everything would collapse if you stopped playing your part.’

“The priest placed a hand on Saman’s shoulder.

“‘This is your fate. You must endure it.’

“Saman left the priest crying.

“Yet he did not give up hope that one day the accusation would be erased.

“He walked away in grief and shame, watching children at play and wishing he could become like them — innocent, peaceful, untouched by the role of evil that had been forced upon him.

“But he decided to visit a second priest, one of the other servants of Antar’s palace. He begged for forgiveness and asked to be restored to his old position.

“‘I have been falsely accused,’ he told him. ‘I am innocent.’

“The second priest was silent for a moment.

“‘You want me to clear your name?’ he asked.

“‘Yes. I want to return to goodness — the goodness you took away from me. Purify me. Help me prove that I am not evil.’

“The priest shook his head.

“‘How can I do that?

“‘I am the chosen priest. My followers are the chosen people of the Antarian god.

“‘If your innocence becomes known, everything collapses. My position collapses. My priesthood collapses.

“‘The god will become angry with me. He may imprison me or order my death.

“‘And I will lose the special status I enjoy now.

“‘My followers will no longer be the chosen people if there is no symbol of evil for them to stand against.

“‘Your continued role as the embodiment of temptation and evil is actually good for me.

“‘You are the hero of this play — in your own strange way.

“‘You have a central role. Why abandon the starring role to become an ordinary extra?

“‘Real heroism, in our system, means staying in your assigned part and enduring it with patience.

“‘If you abandon it, the entire play collapses.

“‘We all lose.

“‘And I, in particular, lose a great deal.

“‘Would you really do that to me?’

“The priest took Saman’s hands as though trying to give him courage.

“‘Please. Do not abandon your role.

“‘Remain exactly as the believers now see you: the evil tempter who leads them away from goodness, righteousness, salvation, and God.

“‘Hold on.

“‘Endure.

“‘By doing so, you save me. You save everyone.

“‘Try another priest if you must. Perhaps someone else will accept you.

“‘But I sincerely hope that does not happen.

“‘We are all links in the same chain. Remove one link and the entire chain falls apart.’

“Saman left devastated.

“His last hope was the third and final priest.

“He approached the man slowly, his hands trembling, his words stumbling over his lips. He shook the priest’s hand, then sat humbly before him and announced that he had been completely wronged.

“The third priest stared at him for a long time.

“He was silent, calculating.

“What if Saman were proven innocent?

“What if everyone learned that he was not evil, had never wanted to mislead anyone, and had no desire to tempt or corrupt the faithful?

“The entire religious structure would collapse.

“The priesthood would disappear.

“In the sacred book, the priest always began his rituals by seeking protection from the cursed Saman. Much of the scripture, written or being written at the time, warned constantly about Saman’s traps and evil.

“How would the priest continue reciting his sacred text if Saman were innocent?

“How would his profession survive?

“Who would he warn people against?

“Who would carry the blame for temptation?

“So the priest turned away from Saman.

“He stood and ordered him to leave.

“‘No. I will not accept your request.

“‘Go.

“‘There is no place for you among us anymore.

“‘You must accept what you have become.

“‘You are now the foundation of the game, the center of the plot. There is no going back.

“‘The plan has already been drawn. The story has already been written. The machinery is already running.

“‘You are out at sea, halfway through the journey. Turning back is no longer possible.

“‘The decision has been made.’

“Saman left for the last time, shaking with grief. He cried out so loudly that his voice seemed to tear through the clouds and disappear into the sky.

“And from that day forward, he remained the innocent man who had been convicted without proof — and would never be allowed to prove his innocence.”

Hind looked at Aref with sarcasm.

“And how do you know all this?

“Did the cursed Saman personally tell you?

“Did you see him?

“As far as I know, you were not even alive when all this supposedly happened.”

Aref answered calmly.

“After Saman’s grief became unbearable, he fell ill and remained in bed for months. No one believed him anymore. Everyone avoided him.

“So he wrote everything down in his private memoirs and hid them.

“Years later, some Researchers found those writings. They made copies and placed them in the public library here on Antrototo after searching his old house following his death.

“And now you and the other believing servants still think Saman is living among you, that he is a creature unlike us who hides in different forms to tempt and mislead you.”

Hind frowned.

“There is not a single powerful piece of evidence proving what you are saying — or even supporting it strongly enough for me to accept.”

She continued, with fear behind her words.

“What guarantees that your version is true?

“What protects me from the punishment of Antar after I die?

“What protects me from his anger and from the hell you say does not exist?

“When I am dead, no one will be able to save me.

“The decision will already have been made.

“So faith seems safer.

“If I believe, and you are right that there is nothing after death, then I lose nothing.

“But if I reject Antar and discover after death that he really exists, the punishment could be unimaginable.

“No.

“I cannot believe you.

“I cannot even think about what you are saying.

“By your reasoning, I could be choosing my own destruction.”

Aref smiled sadly.

“That is the same losing wager believers always use to justify blind faith.

“You tell yourself you are not being deceived, that you are not wasting your life on an invisible god.

“But the driving force is still the same.

“Fear.

“Fear of the unknown.

“And fear of nothingness is one of the most powerful fears there is.

“It turns people into believers and obedient servants.

“Without the fear of what comes after death, many would never remain believers and would never spend their lives trying to please a god who does not reveal himself.

“Have you ever asked yourself where he hides?

“Why did he declare that being a god requires him to remain invisible?

“Why this extraordinary absence?

“What makes him claim that revealing himself would frighten us because our human nature could not bear the sight of him?

“Let us accept your own assumptions for a moment. Suppose he is perfectly wise, perfectly powerful, perfectly precise, incapable of being stopped, the creator of Antrototo and the galaxies and worlds beyond anything we know.

“Then follow the reasoning through.

“Why can we not detect him since the day he declared himself divine?

“Why can we not communicate with him?

“Why can we not observe even a trace of him — visually, audibly, physically, or through any measurable effect?

“Suppose he designed the universe exactly as he wanted it.

“Then why did he create us in a form incapable of communicating with him?

“If his plan was to create human beings who would worship him, pray to him, and communicate with him, why not design us with the means to do that?

“And if the answer is no — if he did not create the universe according to his own intention and design — then your entire claim about his absolute power collapses.

“If we were created in a way that makes direct communication with him impossible, then either he did not want it or he could not accomplish it.

“Neither option fits the picture of the all-powerful, perfectly planned creation your preachers keep describing.

“So again I ask: why can’t we see this god?

“Why were we not designed to communicate with him personally, to perceive him, or even to detect him indirectly?”
“By any means. It doesn’t have to be human.

“Why has this hidden, arrogant, exalted, self-important god remained concealed from us since that moment? Why claim that we could never tolerate seeing him in his new divine form?

“What an extraordinary god.

“What an extraordinary contradiction.

“How can he claim to have created everything — the universe, us, Antrototo, every planet — and then suddenly be unable to make us capable of communicating with him?

“Does that sound logical to you?

“What a twisted, sick kind of logic.

“Or perhaps the god you have chosen to believe in had no choice but to create us exactly as we are. Perhaps the problem was beyond his control. Perhaps he created us and only afterward discovered that the creatures he had made were physically unable to endure his divine presence.

“Isn’t that strange?

“Isn’t the logical implication enough to raise serious questions about his supposedly unlimited power — and even about his existence as a god in the first place?

“If he cannot make us capable of seeing him, where is the all-powerful god you describe?

“Couldn’t he simply say, ‘Be,’ and suddenly change us from beings incapable of seeing him into beings capable of seeing and enduring him?

“Suppose he made a mistake in the beginning.

“Couldn’t an all-powerful god correct his own mistake?

“Couldn’t he issue one divine command and repair the flaw?

“Why is this even a problem?

“Is the problem with us as human beings, as the religious story claims?

“Or is the problem with the god’s own act of creation?

“Is this a random, chaotic god who acts without a coherent plan, without precise wisdom, without forethought? Did he create us without realizing that one day he would want to communicate with us?

“Did he suddenly discover that his own creatures were too fragile to survive the sight of the divine majesty he gave himself?

“Your preachers insist on the exact opposite. They tell us that God is never random, never chaotic, never careless. He creates and acts deliberately, according to a plan known in advance. Everything that happened, everything happening now, and everything that will happen supposedly occurs by his will and design, for a wisdom known only to him.

“And yet he must constantly hide that secret wisdom from us because, they say, we are too limited to understand it.

“So I see only one coherent explanation left: Antar does not actually want us to see him.

“He does not want direct contact.

“He chose not to create Antrototo under conditions that would allow us to see or communicate with him.

“Even his own messengers admit as much. From Noor onward, and through the many emissaries who came after him, they repeatedly told us that they could never fully comprehend or perceive this god.

“So they condemn their own claims.

“They admit that God cannot be grasped, seen, heard, or directly experienced in any form.

“Then on what basis are they certain that he created the universe, the planets, life, and every creature?

“If they themselves never perceived him, then the moment he became a god he effectively became an impossible thing — a mirage that cannot be reached or verified.

“What a contradiction.

“What a spectacular mess you have created for yourselves, for the people, and for generations to come with this endless circle of faith — a sealed circle containing no reason, no science, and no clear evidence.

“You poor fools.

“You are worshiping an idea that cannot be pictured and a god whose nature cannot even be consistently described.

“And notice something else: these descriptions fit nothingness almost perfectly.

“Nothingness has no physical form. It cannot be seen. It cannot be detected. It cannot be pictured. It cannot be located.

“Nothingness is nothing.

“Do you see the resemblance between your god and nothingness?”

Hind shook her head.

“The god did not disappear arbitrarily or merely because he wanted to confuse us. He is not a child playing a game with us.

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“You are wrong. His disappearance has a reason and a purpose.

“The test would not work without it.

“He wants to see whether we remain loyal to him when we are not forced to obey.

“He wants genuine love, not obedience produced by coercion.

“If people saw him openly in this life, the test would become meaningless. So he had to hide himself in order to preserve the test.”

Before Aref could object, Hind continued.

“Let me give you an example that should settle the point between us.

“Imagine a shop owner who supervises his own store. He arrives before everyone else and leaves after everyone else. He keeps the store’s money in a safe, and he alone holds the key.

“Can that owner determine which employee is genuinely honest — someone who would never steal the money?

“Not really.

“Why?

“Because he is always there. Everything is visible. The safe is under his direct control, and he personally holds the key. Naturally, the employees are being watched.

“There is no meaningful test under those conditions.

“But now imagine that he disappears.

“He leaves the store operating normally and leaves the safe key somewhere accessible.

“Then the employees’ real character can finally be revealed. Some will remain honest. Others may steal.

“That is the point of divine absence.

“That is why God hides.

“Because there has to be a test.

“He wants obedience that grows out of gratitude, not fear.

“If he appeared before us, held everything directly in his hands, and punished us openly, everyone would obey. But that obedience would come from coercion.

“The test would be over.

“So how could he establish the truth about our loyalty without testing it?”

Aref listened.

Hind continued.

“Why is he hidden? Because hiddenness allows him to distinguish the sincere believer from the hypocrite.

“The sincere servant remains loyal even when he has every opportunity to disobey.

“God is hidden.

“The choice is open.

“And yet the believer chooses obedience.

“That is what makes his loyalty genuine.

“His obedience becomes gratitude, devotion, and love — not fear.”

She took a breath.

“God wants a relationship of gratitude rather than coercion.

“He wants to test our loyalty by allowing us the opportunity not to obey.

“That is why his absence matters.

“And there is another proof: his concern for human beings.

“He knows that our physical nature cannot tolerate his divine presence. His essence is fundamentally different from ours.

“So we will never see him in this world.

“We will see him in the afterlife, after death, as a gift and an act of love.

“He remains hidden now out of mercy.”

She stared at Aref.

“And do not forget Saman.

“He plays — and continues to play — the greatest role in this test.

“He wants to trap believers because he is evil.

“I refuse to believe your claim that he died, that he was innocent, or that he was merely another victim.

“That is fantasy.

“You want me to believe that his only purpose is to sabotage the test of a good god who waits for believing servants to prove that they love him genuinely — not because they are frightened.

“That is not what I believe.”

Aref applauded slowly and smiled with bitter sarcasm.

“Wonderful.

“What an impressive sermon.

“You have delivered it beautifully.

“But unfortunately, you still have not convinced me.

“First, your own argument admits that God is afraid of our nature because our bodies supposedly cannot tolerate him.

“That is a limitation in his own creation.

“Why didn’t he create us differently?

“Why didn’t he give us the ability to see him, perceive him, or communicate with him?

“Is there a flaw in his creation that he cannot repair?

“Did he simply find himself stuck with the beings he made?

“And second: why does he need to test us at all?

“If he is God, and therefore knows everything — including every choice we will make before we make it — then he has no need for a test.

“A human being needs to test someone because he does not know what will happen.

“But God supposedly already knows.

“Yet somehow this all-knowing deity still needs an examination.

“What a contradiction.”

Aref raised a third point.

“Third: some people supposedly stood before him and interacted with him, exactly as the preachers have always told us.

“Then a test can apparently exist even when God is present.

“So why not appear to us at least once after declaring himself divine?

“Why not show himself in his divine form and let us verify that he really became something more than the ruler we knew before?

“We never asked him to stay beside us day and night.

“Surely a god has other things to do.

“But at least once, he could have demonstrated that he had truly become divine.

“Why did he conceal that transformation?

“Why did a ruler suddenly become an invisible god who demands worship while refusing to appear?

“Why?

“Couldn’t he appear briefly, communicate with us, and then disappear again?

“How would that destroy the test?

“And if you say the problem is the difference between forced obedience and grateful obedience, then your own argument creates another contradiction.

“If God already knows what we will choose, he does not need a test to discover our loyalty.

“And if you say he wants grateful obedience rather than coercion, then why did he create hell and eternal punishment?

“Why threaten eternal fire for anyone who refuses to accept his divinity?

“Why say that punishment will continue after death?

“Why promise that those who reject him will be burned forever?

“Is the fire there for decoration?

“Is hell merely a metaphor?

“Or is it another threat?

“Because everyone on Antrototo fears Antar.

“They obey him and worship him because they fear his power and his revenge — in this life, on this planet, before the supposed next life begins.

“What do you call that kind of obedience?

“Gratitude?

“Or coercion?”

Hind remained silent.

Aref continued.

“And why couldn’t we see him in divine form simply to confirm that he is actually a god rather than merely a ruler?

“Especially when you believers claim that this god sees everything we do, knows everything we think, and watches us even while remaining hidden.

“He is hidden, yet people still manage to anger him.

“People disobey him.

“These young Researchers reject him.

“And I am now one of them.

“So if hiding does not prevent him from watching and judging us, why would appearing once prevent the test?

“What stops him from appearing once a year? Once in a lifetime?

“We have a right to ask.

“Why deny us that right?

“Why depend on intermediaries — messengers, emissaries, preachers, priests?

“Is he ashamed?

“Is there something about him that cannot survive direct exposure?

“That is why these young Researchers rose against him.

“They did not rebel out of nowhere.

“They simply refused to accept the fantasy that a man suddenly became God, disappeared, and then blamed ordinary human beings for being too human to look at him.

“What kind of creator makes creatures too poorly designed to survive seeing their creator, then commands them to worship, fear, and obey him day and night?

“Is that a failure of the creatures — or a failure of the creator?

“He claims to watch us without being seen.

“He claims to test us while remaining hidden.

“He claims to know what we think before we even think it.

“Then why all the circling, hiding, disappearing, and elaborate excuses?

“None of this would damage his alleged divinity.

“So the simplest explanation is still the same: this is the behavior of a claimant, not a god.

“Science and reason have not established the existence of any god for Antrototo.

“Natural processes, accumulated changes, natural selection, and the long development of life are enough — at least so far — to explain what we know about this world, the worlds around us, and the living beings upon them.

“And as for Saman — the ‘cursed one’ you keep calling him — I see him very differently.

“He may actually have been the first person to challenge Antar’s alleged divinity.

“Before their dispute, when Saman worked inside the palace, he sensed that Antar was planning to deceive the entire population of Antrototo with a divine story.

“Antar did not suddenly become a god, as the public story claims. He wanted everyone to believe he had always been divine and had simply hidden that fact while ruling as an ordinary tyrant.

“Antar confessed this plan privately to Saman before the conflict between them.

“That is why Saman refused to carry out the order to bow before the first human being — the creature Antar supposedly created.

“Saman rejected the idea from the beginning.

“He hated Antar’s narcissism, arrogance, cruelty, and tyranny.

“He refused to participate in the deception.

“When Antar realized that Saman would not help him fool the people of Antrototo, he turned against him.

“Everyone else had accepted deals, favors, profits, positions, and mutual interests.

“Saman was the one man who refused to trade people’s minds for personal gain.

“And so Antar needed him destroyed.

“He needed to turn Saman into the symbol of evil.

“He needed to become the false hero by making Saman the false villain.

“And that is how the innocent man became the accused, while the real accuser became the hero.

“What a perfect joke played by fate.”

Hind stared at him for a long time after he finished.

She seemed to leave the conversation without physically moving, her thoughts wandering far away. She remained frozen, almost like someone who had suddenly turned to stone.

Aref continued speaking, but when he realized that she was no longer responding, he called her name.

“Hind?”

She did not turn.

Her eyes remained fixed somewhere beyond him, as though she were looking into another world.

Then, suddenly, she sprang to her feet like a violent gust of wind.

She looked terrified, as if a snake had just poured its poison into her body.

Without answering him, without even saying goodbye, she walked away and left Aref sitting there alone.”

Chapter Thirteen

Their Hearts and Their Pockets

The truth had finally begun to drive Anter out of his mind, and his days had turned into a living hell. A growing number of people had started to follow the ideas of the young researchers. The researchers themselves had become experts at disappearing into borrowed faces and invented identities. They changed their names for the occasion, hid their faces, and took every precaution to keep Anter’s soldiers, followers, and agents from recognizing them — especially after Anter had ordered their arrest and commanded his forces to search for them everywhere.

But the young researchers were even more careful than the men hunting them. They produced their own little newspapers and sheets of paper, writing down their views and arguments and carrying them from one region of the planet Antroto to another. They divided themselves into small, disguised groups whose mission was to spread the truth and expose Anter, the self-proclaimed god, along with his preachers and his loyal servants. They slipped out under the cover of the blackest nights and sometimes held secret conferences and underground seminars in remote corners of Antroto, always in disguise and at the latest hours possible, so that none of Anter’s followers would notice them.

At those meetings they explained what they believed was the truth about the god — and the lie of his existence. They showed how the tyrant Anter had turned the very idea of divinity into a political tool. Working in agreement with his religious preachers, he had taken advantage of this absent, invisible god and transformed the notion of God into a political idea wrapped in religious language: a way to subdue the people, especially the poor and the simple, to tighten his control, expand his influence, and exploit them for their mutual benefit. The spoils, of course, were divided among the powerful men who shared the same interests.

The only ones cheated and crushed in the whole arrangement were the believing slaves — the people who sincerely imagined that they were doing good by serving and believing. Evil was never far from them. They lived inside a sacred illusion, victims of a divine deception, convinced that they were the winners and that they were destined to live forever in bliss.

If only their promised afterlife actually paid out.

Instead, the reward was always postponed indefinitely — until after death. It was the greatest con of all, and they believed in it, surrendered themselves to it, and bowed before it.

What a bunch of lost, gullible dreamers.

And that was exactly what inflamed Anter. Rage and resentment boiled inside him when he learned that many people who had been on the verge of entering the Anterian faith had backed away after receiving the secret leaflets written and distributed by the young researchers, with the help of Aref. Aref wrote many of those pamphlets and manuscripts himself, staying up through the night arranging them and polishing them into logical arguments and clear scientific sentences — without cheating, patchwork, or intellectual sleight of hand. He was trying to explain facts and expose lies.

Aref often slipped into the streets at night with a small group of young researchers who had by then become his closest friends — indeed, almost his only friends. They left pamphlets on doorsteps, balconies, entrances, and the doors of shops and businesses that had closed for the night. They hid the pages in safe places and did all of it while disguised and on the run from Anter’s soldiers and secret police, whose numbers had increased throughout the area. Those men prowled the streets at night, looking for anyone who seemed suspicious.

Yet despite every precaution, Anter’s determined campaign and his elaborate security measures failed to extinguish the revolt of truth that had erupted across large parts of Antroto.

Anter’s fear grew into panic. He ordered an emergency closed-door meeting at the conference hall inside his magnificent palace. Every commander, soldier, and guard was summoned. In Anter’s mythology, these men were not merely officers; they were his angels and his lesser gods, the ones through whom his believing slaves were supposedly brought closer to him. That was the story Anter told, built for him by the magician Samson from a mixture of magical tricks, incantations, and imaginary metaphysical books.

In the middle of the panic, Anter slammed his enormous hand onto the conference table and roared for an immediate solution to the crisis that had invaded his kingdom and threatened his throne. The rebellion against his supposed divinity had become impossible to ignore, especially after he heard that increasing numbers were abandoning faith in him, turning away from religion and the god, and following science, enlightenment, and logical thought instead.

And their numbers were growing.

The young researchers were responsible, and Anter hated them with everything he had. He wanted them arrested and thrown into his prisons and sinister underground cells, places black enough to swallow a person’s last trace of hope.

One by one, the men gathered around Anter began presenting opinions and proposals. They predicted what might happen if Anter and his followers failed to act quickly. One suggested arresting anyone who aroused suspicion, even without evidence, on the theory that the real offenders would become frightened and confused and eventually reveal themselves without realizing it.

Another proposed a curfew for every region of Antroto at a fixed hour. Surely the culprits would try to hide under cover of night and distribute their manuscripts in secret. A secret informer or undercover guard, he suggested, should be appointed to expose them without their knowing that he was there.

A third proposed announcing a large cash reward for anyone who had even the smallest piece of information about those “saboteurs” who supposedly wanted to ruin the country, mislead the people, and pull them away from belief in the great god Anter — from obedience to him, loyalty to his messengers and preachers, and the endless chanting of his name. Anyone who had information should come to the palace and report everything.

The idea, he claimed, would inspire the entire population of Antroto, especially Anter’s loyal believers. They would search with energy and devotion, investigate from near and far, follow every possible lead, and eventually deliver the saboteurs into Anter’s hands.

But Anter remained silent.

He sat grimly, his thick eyebrows drawn together so tightly that they nearly became one dark mass over his broad forehead. He growled like an irritated lion, dissatisfied with every proposal placed before him. Long breaths escaped him as he continued hammering the round table with both hands. He announced that he could feel his throne shaking beneath his feet. This miserable band of saboteurs, he said, was attacking his divine self, denying his power and kingdom, and challenging both him and his messengers.

Woe, he declared, to anyone who fought the god and his messenger.

It soon became obvious that Anter’s fear had grown so deep that he no longer believed the usual measures would work. The new researchers knew how to disappear from his eyes and the eyes of his followers and troops.

He remembered, too, the soldiers who had betrayed him by accepting money from the young researchers. In exchange, those soldiers had allowed the researchers to enter Antroto’s public library and place their research, books, and manuscripts among the shelves of Anterian religious literature.

Then something astonishing happened.

The scientific books began to push the Anterian books aside. Little by little, the research drove them from their shelves, knocked them down, and buried them beneath a new intellectual order. The sword of science had entered the body of those religious books and defeated them, until they seemed to breathe their last and give up the ghost.

Naturally, Anter ordered the execution of the unfortunate soldiers who had served as the bridge through which the scientific research entered the planet’s library.

Had they known that they would pay with their lives for the money they accepted, they might never have done it. But that was the way of things. Every victory demands a loss somewhere, and every new life seems to arrive at the price of another ending. That was the nature of the universe — the law of life.

And yet, despite everything, Anter still could not reach the young researchers.

He remained silent and brooding, dissatisfied with every solution. Then his minister, Qandil, leaned toward him and whispered as though he were carrying a dangerous secret.

“My lord, I have something to tell you. I believe my idea may please you.”

“Then give it to me quickly, Minister.”

Qandil cleared his throat.

“I want the room cleared. What I have to say must remain between us.”

At once Anter ordered everyone out. He and Qandil were left alone, and the minister spoke very carefully.

“My lord, in this situation it would be wiser to win back the believers who have abandoned the religion, turned away from your path, and lost faith in you. We must bring them back to the path of guidance, faith, and the straight road. More important still, we must hold on to the believers who are beginning to doubt and who are on the verge of following those miserable saboteurs. We must attract them by every possible means.

“Most of your loyal believers are ordinary, gullible people. Many simply do not have the power to help themselves. If they did, they would have done so already.”

Qandil asked permission for Samson to enter. He explained that the magician had a matter even more important than the meeting itself and that the two of them had the best possible solution to the crisis — or at least the solution that would allow them to emerge victorious with the fewest losses.

Samson entered with Qandil at his side and approached Anter with a knowing, crooked smile.

“My lord,” he said slyly, “money can work miracles. As the old saying goes, money can be the ointment for almost any wound. Give it enough of a chance, and it starts looking suspiciously like magic.”

Anter frowned.

“What exactly are you suggesting, Samson? Do you want me to hand out gifts?”

“Not to all the believers, my lord. I mean those who are sympathetic to the doubters — the ones who are uncertain, hesitant, or already following those criminals who want to destroy security and stability in our society, the society of Antroto.

“We can lure them back even if we despise them. Even if they are not truly convinced or happy with the religion or with your worship, money will win over their hearts and emotions. It will make them choose you and abandon these young researchers, even if they remain unconvinced.”

Anter stared at him.

“And what good is it if they return to my faith while they don’t believe in me? Especially after they have learned so many facts and so-called scientific truths that are beginning to expose me? I feel as though I am collapsing. They are stripping away the curtain and exposing my divinity to everyone.”

Qandil stepped closer, confident and attentive.

“Right now, my lord, and in the middle of this disaster, conviction is not the important question. Whether they truly believe in you or not is secondary. You are their ruler, their owner, their master. They may not even worship you, but they must remain on your side. They must choose your camp, your party, your faithful faction — even if money is the reason and even if self-interest is the only motive.

“We are at war with these cursed men. In a war, victory is the only rule. What matters is saving the situation. Anyone who stands with us can help us, whether for money or because of money. The only important thing is to pull you — and us — out of this disaster.”

Anter thought for a while. He lowered his head and paced back and forth, lost in thought. He had always spent money lavishly on the magical shortcuts Samson invented for his glory. He never hesitated to spend as long as the money fed his false grandeur and his diseased narcissism.

But ask him to spend the smallest amount on a humanitarian or charitable cause from which he would gain nothing, and suddenly every coin became too expensive.

Good deeds, humanity, principles — these had never meant anything to Anter except as empty slogans that did nothing for his vanity. What mattered to him was other people praising him, worshiping him, bowing before him, and treating him as sacred — even when he was still merely a ruler, even before he suddenly announced his invented divinity.

Once that was understood, he was willing to spend extravagantly. Anything that protected his status, his exalted self-image, or his supposed divine identity was worth every coin he had — and every coin he did not have.

Almost all of Anter’s attention was concentrated on himself and on the people who glorified and worshiped him — or, more accurately, on his believing slaves. They prayed to him so that he would admit them into his paradise and spare them his punishment, whether in this life or in the other life his preachers had always promised them.

Humanity never mattered to him. Goodness never mattered. Morality, in Anter’s view, meant worshiping him, bowing to him, humiliating oneself before him, and believing in him without a shred of evidence for his supposed divinity.

He had deliberately hidden himself so that he could watch humiliation reflected in the eyes of his believing slaves. He had made faith the price of loyalty and the ticket to reward. And faith, as he defined it, meant surrendering even after he had disappeared completely — because, supposedly, a god should never be seen or logically demonstrated in the first place.

To qualify as a believer, one had to cancel out one’s own mind. No evidence. No questions. No argument. Thinking was treated like a disease, something like mange that the “true believer” had to avoid at all costs because it would inevitably destroy faith.

That was all Anter cared about.

He did not care whether one of his worshipers was a thief, a murderer, a criminal, or a despicable person, so long as that person believed in him and fed his divine ego. Everything else could be forgiven. But disbelief — or associating another god with him — was unforgivable.

“What if a believer steals?” people asked.

“What if he kills?”

Even then, Anter forgave him — provided the believer remained devoted to Anter.

And so Anter enthusiastically approved Samson and Qandil’s idea. He even rewarded them for it. The order went out: money, gifts, worldly rewards, and promised rewards in the imaginary afterlife would be handed to anyone who defended the Anterian faith and protected it — even to the point of dying for it.

Fighting for Anter, and fighting on behalf of his religion, was declared the highest possible rank of faith.

His preachers were assigned to preach day and night in the houses of worship dedicated to Anter. He called them “his houses,” because his divine essence was supposedly present in them. The preachers knew very well that religion, a sacred book, and the belief that only the pure could touch that book were all essential to maintaining Anter’s tyrannical rule.

The continued existence of religion among the believers was crucial. It reinforced Anter’s authority as the god — or the ruler pretending to be one — and gave his government a holy excuse for extending its control over every person on Antroto.

So the preachers began holding lessons and sermons everywhere. They urged people to cling to their religion and faith and explained that the stronger faith became, the weaker the influence and temptation of the evil enemy, Saman.

One day Abu al-Hikma attended one of these sermons. He listened as the preacher shouted about the generosity of the ruler-god Anter, who had announced financial rewards for anyone who defended Anter’s religion, his sacred book, his messengers, and his envoys.

The preacher declared that this sacred struggle was the highest level of faith. Anter would send his representatives throughout the planet, promising huge sums of money to anyone who held firmly to his faith — or even to anyone who was still hesitant but willing to taste the sweetness of belief.

The rewards, the preacher continued, would include better income, higher positions, and prosperity in this life. But the greatest reward would come after death: an eternal paradise overflowing with bliss, as vast as the sky and the earth.

Abu al-Hikma immediately began clapping and cheering along with the crowd. Then his familiar sarcasm slipped into his voice.

“What a magnificent and generous god!” he exclaimed. “And what extraordinary generosity! How deeply committed he is to expanding and preserving his religion. How much he must love faith and believers! In all my life, I have never seen generosity like this.

“I will be the first volunteer for this sacred struggle. And if one of these foolish, bitter people ever comes up to me and says, ‘Abu al-Hikma, did you really accept this bribe? Are you taking money in exchange for loyalty? Are they buying your devotion by filling your pockets — and everyone else’s?’

“I will slap him, naturally, and tell him: ‘You faithless fool! It is not a bribe. It is proof of faith! A sign of divine generosity! Don’t you know that our god is generous and that his mercy encompasses everything? Don’t you know that generosity is among his most magnificent names? Who are you to object when he turns one of his names into an actual payment? Faith has a price, you ignorant unbeliever!’”

The preacher snapped back at him.

“Since you know all that, Abu al-Hikma, control that sharp tongue of yours. This is not your moment. We are being tested, and we are looking for those with the greatest faith.”

And so the system continued.

Inside his palace, Anter hid in fear of an uncertain future. He claimed to be hiding because he was a god and gods were not supposed to be understood by minds or seen by eyes — otherwise, he insisted, they would not be gods at all.

Meanwhile, his soldiers went into the streets carrying money, gifts, and rewards for anyone who stood at the palace gates or approached them. Whenever danger seemed to draw closer, they walked through the streets day and night proclaiming that anyone who still believed in the god Anter should step forward and volunteer for the sacred struggle in his name.

In return, they were promised anything they wanted: cash, gifts, possessions, respectable employment, and a prosperous life.

Anter was trying to build himself an army.

Fear had consumed him to the point that he wanted a formidable force to protect him. He invented the claim that there were enemies fighting the god Anter and his messengers. He forgot — or pretended to forget — that his real enemies needed no swords, bloodshed, or terror to accomplish their purpose.

Their weapons were science, truth, and logic.

Their weapon was the mind.

And that was far more dangerous to Anter than any sword, shield, or army he possessed.

But fear had already robbed him of his reason.

Even so, the intellectual march continued. The young researchers intensified their campaign and their revolt against Anter, the tyrant who had crowned himself a god and then hidden himself behind the excuse that gods must remain invisible.

One morning, someone knocked softly on the door of a house. The grandfather, Nasr, now weakened by illness and age, dragged himself toward it. He had secretly begun to sympathize with what Aref was doing. He was still confused and afraid, but Aref had recently managed to persuade him that some of his ideas were right.

Nasr had also been a close friend of Abu al-Hikma, and his conversations with that sarcastic old friend had gradually opened his mind to some of the new ideas that were exposing Anter’s supposed divinity and shaking the throne beneath him.

When Nasr opened the door, he found Hind, Aref’s fiancée and beloved, standing there to check on him.

Nasr smiled when he saw her. His face brightened, and he welcomed her warmly, almost as though she had arrived from the heavens as a rescue. From what Aref had told him, Nasr believed she was angry with his grandson and opposed his new position.

Yet although Nasr had gradually begun to lean toward Aref’s reasoning — because much of what the young man said made sense, and because Nasr had been influenced by Abu al-Hikma’s strange jokes and sharp contradictions — his fear for his grandson was still stronger than his intellectual convictions.

He warmly welcomed Hind and assumed she had come to bargain with Aref: his love for her and their engagement on one side, and the dangerous ideas that had led him to abandon faith in the great Anter on the other.

Certain that her love might be the strongest argument, Nasr left them alone and went to prepare two cups of tea.

Hind approached the table where Aref was sitting, absorbed in scientific papers, manuscripts, and the new publications spreading from hand to hand across the planet. She cleared her throat and gave him a calm smile.

Aref lifted his eyes from the pages and stared at her as though he could hardly believe she had come.

“Please, sit,” he said, trying to sound steady.

After a pause, he added, “I never expected you to come. I thought you would cut me off forever. I thought what happened between us was over. Or perhaps you came to tell me that now.”

Hind smiled faintly.

“Aref, let’s be realistic. I won’t deny that I was furious with you at first. I couldn’t understand what you were saying. I was completely stunned that you had abandoned faith — you, of all people. You used to attend the sermons regularly, especially the meetings of Shaaher, the preacher who liked to carry science like a weapon and connect it to religion.

“He was always insisting that the sacred book was filled with scientific miracles. That was what made you enthusiastic about believing in Anter as a true god rather than merely a tyrant who happened to rule us.

“You used to say that there must be a creator for the universe. Since we could not perceive or understand him, you believed he had to be there. You even used to tell me, ‘A god should not be worshiped through ignorance. He should be worshiped through knowledge.’ That was why your change shocked me so deeply.

“But when I argued with you, you answered every argument with another argument, every piece of evidence with another piece of evidence. You said things that tore through my mind like a violent storm. You uprooted old beliefs from the deepest roots of my thinking.

“The ground inside my mind had to be plowed all over again. New ideas began to grow there — ideas watered by logic, reason, and science. It was as though a dark veil had covered my mind and blocked the light of thought. Then, little by little, the light returned.”

Aref’s face brightened. His eyes lit up as though she had just handed him a treasure he had never dared hope to find.

“Please,” he said eagerly, “tell me more. What exactly happened to you?”

Hind continued.

“One of the first things that truly caught my attention — although I had never noticed it before — was what I found in the sacred book and its three principal sections.

“There was conflict and contradiction among the three. Every group of believing slaves chose one section or one school and adopted its ideas as though they had been deliberately designed to confuse, divide, and keep people fighting. Each group believed it was better than the others, purer than the others, closer to the god than the others.

“Worse still, the god in the words and prayers of that sacred Anterian book seemed to feed the very idea. Each group was told that it was the chosen people, the favored group above the rest of the world. The poison was mixed with honey: each faction received its own sacred passages telling it that it was special.

“Then the other group, the one that disagreed with it on religious details, was told exactly the same thing. It was told that it was the best nation, the finest group, the chosen one.

“So each side becomes excited. Each side becomes angry. And each side is prepared to fight for the idea.

“That is one of the most dangerous ideas imaginable when you are trying to manufacture violence.”

She sighed in frustration.

“What kind of god manipulates the minds of his slaves like that? Assuming, of course, that he even exists in the first place.

“He feeds every group the idea that only it possesses the truth. He tells them that conspiracies are being plotted in darkness against the best people on earth. Hatred surrounds them from every direction. Another group then mixes unbelievers into the story and accuses them of evil, claiming that divine love has never touched their hearts.

“And so the believers are encouraged to become hostile toward everyone else. All of it comes from religious ideas.

“I began to see the world through a completely different lens. It was as though a monstrous fog of sacred illusion and confusion had stood between my mind and reality, blocking the light from reaching me.

“And that wasn’t even the worst thing I found.

“The book also seemed to inflame the idea of holy war. It was a bloody, frightening book that encouraged fighting and sacred struggle in the name of the god. The believing slaves followed the idea like animals, like a herd of sheep.

“They killed and slaughtered in the name of a god who supposedly gave them permission to do so — and promised the highest rewards to those who carried it out. They were told they would be elevated above others, that eternal bliss awaited them after death.

“Evil became sacred. Violence became a duty. Murder became an act of devotion. And the believer could kill without feeling guilty because every sin could simply be placed on the shoulders of the god who had supposedly authorized it.

“That convinced me of something terrible: a human being — especially a believer who accepts the existence of a god without a single piece of evidence and settles for blind faith — can commit almost any evil while feeling completely justified.

“The religious conviction feeds the fighting spirit. It gives violence a sacred name. It wraps brutality in holy cloth.

“Look at Antroto. Look at all the wars it has fought over the years. Every faction claims absolute truth. Each insists that it sees the god in his true form, and that the god supports its claim to land and territory.

“Not merely to spread a religious idea, but to give them a sacred excuse for possessing territory.

“Wasn’t that exactly what Anter wanted? He always wanted to expand his kingdom and his lands. He had always imposed his rule over everything he could control. Once he declared himself divine, holy war became the perfect excuse to extend his influence.

“How many so-called holy wars has Antroto fought in the name of this arrogant, tyrannical god? How much destruction has followed from his pride and stubbornness?

“And he encourages it all in the name of worship — as though war were merely another form of devotion, another form of sacred struggle designed to please him.

“A god who supposedly thirsts for blood.

“That childish idea spread everywhere. The believing slave began to imagine that he was defending his god, fighting on his behalf, and earning his favor.

“And that lie became a sacred certainty in the minds of every foolish believer.

“But there was another thing that hurt me deeply. I began noticing what many believers did to animals. They slaughtered helpless creatures and spilled their blood to satisfy this hateful god.

“I couldn’t stand the sight of it. My eyes refused to accept the image of a knife passing like an iron fence over the throat of a terrified animal.

“Yet I used to explain it away to myself. I would say that it was a divine duty, or that it was a way of pleasing the god, or that perhaps the meat would feed the poor.

“But when I finally forced myself to face the truth, I discovered that blood sacrifice was one of religion’s ugliest superstitions. Religion had invented it, encouraged it, and deepened it through the idea of faith. It presented blood as a gift to the god, a way of drawing closer to him.

“Anter himself, the tyrant-ruler-god, had encouraged the practice to push people into greater submission. He had even encouraged human sacrifice.

“I remember the strange festivals and rituals we heard about from our parents and grandparents, people who had lived under his rule when he was still merely a ruler, long before he declared himself a god.

“My grandmother and grandfather told me stories of bizarre rituals, tyranny, and the shedding of human and animal blood to please him. It was as though the smell of roasting meat and fresh blood intoxicated this ruler-god.

“Some of the preachers claimed that the sacrifices also helped the poor because, on the great day of slaughter and forgiveness, a poor person might get a little meat to eat.

“But that claim failed year after year. It never solved an economic crisis. The poor simply became poorer.

“And I kept asking myself: if Anter is truly a god, why has he never found a better way to feed the hungry than killing and bloodshed? Why has he kept this ugly ritual from the days when he was a ruler until the day he announced that he was a god?

“Why didn’t he abandon animal sacrifice? And why had the sacrifices once included human beings, especially children, whose blood was spilled to please him?

“Why did the practice survive even after his declaration of divinity?

“If this was the best solution he could devise for feeding the poor, then he is either a god of limited ability, a god of limited imagination — or simply an evil god. Certainly not the merciful, compassionate god his preachers keep describing.”

At that moment, Nasr knocked on the door. It was not completely closed, and he had overheard part of Hind’s conversation.

He understood at once that she had come to support Aref and had accepted his ideas. She had become, in effect, an ally in the new path he had chosen.

Fear for both of them immediately returned. But Nasr steadied himself, entered carrying two cups of tea, and placed them on the table. A faint smile appeared on his lips, but sorrow showed through it, and a small tear glittered beneath his eyelids.

He was terrified of what Anter and his followers might do to them.

Aref understood that his grandfather had heard enough to know what was happening. Happiness spread across his face.

“Don’t be afraid, Grandpa,” he said with a smile. “The person who stands with the truth has no reason to live in fear. Evil, lies, and deception may win sometimes — but not forever.”

Hind smiled and looked at Aref.

“You’re right,” she said. “I agree with you.”

Nasr looked at them both.

“I am more afraid for the two of you than I can say.”

He said nothing more. He left the room slowly, dragging the weight of his fear behind him.

Aref looked at Hind with calm confidence.

“Don’t worry. That’s my grandfather. I know him well. He knows I have a point. His fear for me is what keeps him from saying so openly.

“He may have accepted some of it for a while, but after our arguments I know he understood the evidence. He knows I am right.

“But what matters to me now is that you changed your mind. That makes me happier than I can explain. It’s what I had hoped for, and today I finally got it.

“Yet something you said has raised an interesting question in my mind.”

“What question?” Hind asked.

Aref looked at her carefully.

“As a woman — more precisely, as a female human being — you don’t seem to receive an equal share of what this religion promises. The attention, the rewards in this life, and the rewards supposedly waiting in the afterlife all seem to be designed primarily for males.

“Our religion is male-centered, and everywhere on our planet where its sacred book is raised as a banner, the structure is male-centered too. Women are pushed to the margins. Their affairs are placed in the hands of a male guardian.

“Weren’t you afraid of how a religious society like this would react to you before you made this decision?

“I thought that might be what prevented you from believing me, following my ideas, or even simply going along with me.”

Hind smiled with confidence.

“At the time, I was like a victim blessing the person who was about to kill her and kissing his hand before the knife came down.

“I was like someone sympathizing with her own enemy because she believed it was the only solution to peaceful coexistence for a helpless person — the woman.

“I was like someone willingly handing her murderer the knife and begging him to kill her so she could finally rest.

“It is an old psychological syndrome. During that period, and after our last conversation, I happened to find some manuscripts in the library that discussed it. They called it the Stockholm syndrome — the captive sympathizing with the captor, the victim identifying with the enemy as a way to survive under oppression. There is an old saying: ‘If you cannot cut off the hand, kiss it.’

“Sadly, I realized that this had been the condition of women and girls throughout our society.

“Our world is ruled by a male ruler. Women are excluded. Then that ruler declares himself a god and gives himself male titles and male pronouns. He talks about himself as a god — but remains unmistakably male.

“When he announced his supposed divinity, he referred to himself in the masculine and surrounded himself with masculine attributes. Yet he never explained what his divine identity actually was, what its nature was, or whether it was even male.

“Was he a male god? Had he somehow become a female god? No one ever asked.

“But I found the answer screaming from everything around me. It was as though the whole society were begging me to rescue the woman buried beneath layers of contempt and humiliation, supposedly for her own protection.

“It was really just the male viewpoint inside a corrupt, male-dominated religious society ruled by a tyrannical god.

“All three sections of the sacred book and all three religious groups agreed on one thing: they diminished women and treated them as inferior.

“They fought over religious details, rituals, and the nature of the god. But on this point they were remarkably united.

“They agreed on the humiliation of women, on treating women’s minds as lesser, on insulting their worth, and on reducing their status.

“From the oldest times, kidnapping women, assaulting them, and even killing their children had been common. It happened here on Antroto as well. Any woman who openly objected could put her life at risk.

“One of the clearest symptoms of this syndrome was the way women were forced to accept humiliation from men — especially husbands — or to accept being beaten. Religion and the sacred book supported that system. They taught men that a husband had the right to discipline his wife, that he was her master, and that a woman could fulfill her duty to the god only by fulfilling her duty to her husband, obeying him, and remaining under his command.

“Her feelings did not matter. Her desires did not matter.

“Religious sayings and sacred passages gave men permission to discipline wives much as they disciplined slaves, sons, or servants.

“And all of it was done under the protection of the so-called heavenly Anterian religion, which gave preference to the male and reduced the female to a lower rank — to the status of a servant.”

Hind paused and reflected.

“When I thought about myself as a woman, I saw that this religious system gave women only two possible identities: slave or concubine.

“You know that Anter, the ruler-god — or god-ruler — had many concubines in his palace before and after his declaration of divinity. He even allowed many of his followers, preachers, and wealthy men who could afford it to possess a female slave or woman as property, to sleep with her whenever they wished, and to make her serve them.

“She was no more than a servant and a sexual possession, as though she had been purchased like any other commodity.

“And if a woman was not a slave or a man’s property, then she could become a wife — a different-looking form of slavery.

“Outwardly she was not a slave. She was a wife. But she belonged to the husband, remained confined to the home, and was controlled through rules about covering and concealment.

“Anter even created a system for distinguishing wives from concubines. His followers were permitted to flirt with women and harass them. So he needed a way to tell one category from the other.

“He therefore declared what he claimed was a divine command and wrote it into the sacred book: a married woman had to cover her body and hair, while the female slave did not. In fact, the distinction depended on exactly that difference.

“The whole argument that women had to cover because they supposedly aroused male desire collapsed immediately, because a female slave was a woman too.

“Yet she was deliberately left exposed.

“So dignity was denied either way. The slave woman could be harassed under the permission of the so-called god Anter. The wife, meanwhile, was confined inside a home where she belonged to a man who married her and claimed the right to beat, discipline, or humiliate her whenever he decided she deserved it.

“Where was a woman’s freedom? Where was my dignity in such a strange religion and faith?

“What kind of god allows all this — then claims to authorize and legalize it?

“He is obviously a male god created in the image of male power.

“And I was astonished that I had once accepted that religion, that god, that blind faith that could not reason, hear, or see anything except a mirage.

“Yet believers rushed after that mirage with total certainty, built only on alleged divine commands without a single piece of evidence proving them true.

“I could not understand how I had failed to notice these things before, even though they touched the very heart of my freedom as a woman — and the heart of my humanity.

“Faith had turned into a mirage, a beautiful deception shimmering before a traveler exhausted by hunger and thirst on an empty, desolate road. He sees the false oasis in the distance and mistakes it for salvation.”

Aref smiled.

“I see you’ve become a poet.”

“No. I’ve simply reached the truth after thinking deeply about it.”

Aref moved closer, took her hand gently, and kissed it warmly.

“You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that. Now I finally feel complete. I am proud in a way I have not felt for a long time.

“Our disagreement hurt me more than I could ever explain. I suffered. I was terrified you would leave me. I dreamed about this moment, and now it has finally come, my love.”

At that moment, Nasr returned after knocking several times. He carried the two cups of tea. He had heard enough of their conversation to understand that Hind had accepted Aref’s ideas.

He entered quietly, set the tea before them, and wore a smile edged with sadness. Tears glittered in his eyes because he feared what Anter and his followers might do to both of them.

Then he left the room, leaving Aref and Hind absorbed in their dreams — imagining what they might do in the near future and how they could escape the grip of superstition and illusion that surrounded them.

They whispered to each other like two birds singing a song of love, hope, and loyalty.

As for the so-called god Anter, he was living in a state of extreme tension and anxiety. He waited desperately for his plan to attract the wealthy and powerful to succeed. He wanted everyone with money, influence, and authority on Antroto to remain on his side because he feared that a large number of them might drift away from him.

And there was reason to fear it.

A significant number of the wealthy had begun reading the research and manuscripts of the young researchers. Anter had also learned that they were attending their secret meetings in private.

Their wealth gave them something the poor did not have: confidence in their ability to pursue goals on their own. They did not need to depend on an invisible god to give them the things they wanted but could not obtain by themselves.

Faith, in this society, was the poor man’s refuge and only shelter. For the poor person, the god was an invisible authority, a hidden power beyond his reach. But if he fulfilled the one condition — faith — the hidden power might one day return to him the wish poverty had prevented him from achieving.

That was the promise that kept the poor waiting.

The poor man remained in a long line of the waiting, hoping that the generous god would eventually show mercy, reward his faith, and fulfill his dreams. After all, the god was supposedly capable of doing so. He merely chose to hide his limitless power and reveal it only to believers.

Yet when the poor man’s dreams failed to come true despite his faith, he became afraid of an existential shock to his belief.

Since faith was the only refuge he had, he told himself that perhaps the god had postponed his reward. There was no announced date, no deadline. The reward could always be delayed.

And if every appointed time had a book written for it, then perhaps the dream would be fulfilled when he finally met his generous lord face to face. Perhaps then the god would pour out his light, mercy, hidden gifts, and generous rewards upon him because he had been a faithful believer.

The poor man could then forget everything he had suffered in this life.

He told himself that this life was temporary, deceptive, and unworthy of tears. He should not expect anything from it. He should accept its pain in obedience to the will of the great and powerful god who demanded that he think this way.

And so the poor man sank deeper and deeper into illusion and wishful thinking.

He repeated what he had heard from the preachers: the god was testing him to measure the strength of his faith. The real reward, they said, was being stored for him after death — not in this miserable place called earthly life, but in the life to come.

That reward, they promised, would be beyond anything an eye had seen or an ear had heard. It would match the faith of this poor believing slave perfectly.

And the poor man continued deceiving himself.

He repeated another lesson taught by the three preachers — Shaaher, Maher, and Qaher: wealth, money, comfort, and everything enjoyed by a rich, powerful person were merely traps. The great god had dug those traps to make the wealthy fall into the consequences of their own sins. The rich person, they said, would suffer after death because he had been deceived by his worldly comfort.

The logic was beautifully circular.

The god could not be blamed for the rich man’s happiness, because the happiness was actually a trap. If the rich man had no faith, that only proved that his faith was weak. And because the rich man was supposedly weak in faith, he was said to need the kind of blind belief imposed on the poor slave.

This was why the wealthy began paying attention to what the young researchers were saying. Faith, the preachers insisted, needed a heart, not a mind.

But the rich had minds, and because their lives were not completely controlled by hunger, they could afford to think.

That made them dangerous.

The poor man, meanwhile, imagined that the wealthy were the truly pitiful ones, deceived by comfort and unaware of what awaited them in the afterlife — as if the poor man himself had already traveled there and returned with a full report.

Anter knew these weaknesses very well. His followers knew them too. They had designed their plan around them.

As the old saying goes, the man with a wound on his head keeps touching it.

So Anter tried to win over the wealthy, powerful, and influential people of Antroto: shop owners, merchants, economic leaders, and men occupying important offices. These men had supported Anter before the arrival of the young researchers.

But Anter feared that they might eventually turn against him and discover the truth.

Some were fooled — or almost fooled — into believing his divine claims. Most, however, had shared interests with Anter. They applauded, flattered, and praised the god day and night because their own prosperity depended on his.

But what happens when the magician’s spell wears off?

The ball moves to the other court.

The balance shifts.

Anter’s side becomes weaker, and the side of the young researchers grows stronger. Then the researchers will hold the ball, and science and logic will have the power against metaphysics and superstitious faith.

That was why Anter and his three preachers — Maher, Shaaher, and Qaher — worked desperately to implement the plan Samson and Minister Qandil had designed for him.

They had no choice but to win over the wealthy and everyone who possessed money, influence, or authority. Anter had already assigned them their roles in the miserable society of Antroto. He needed them to stay in place so they would not slip toward the opposite side and turn the magician’s spell against the magician.

The three preachers worked every day in their places of worship and elsewhere. They held lectures and seminars designed to teach the importance of faith and convince influential people that a conspiracy was being plotted against innocent believers — including them.

The goal, they insisted, was not money or self-interest. Of course not.

It was all for faith itself.

And for the great god who must be pleased with every believer. Anyone who resisted, they warned, risked being branded an unbeliever.

Naturally, everything had a price.

The preachers poured even more money into the hands of the wealthy. Anter had ordered them to spend lavishly to save his supposedly supernatural divinity from collapse.

Anter could be miserly with almost everything when the subject was charity, kindness, or lofty principles. But if even a fraction of his divine prestige was threatened, he was willing to spend everything he owned — and everything he did not own — to save himself and prove his existence.

His divine existence, above all, was the most important thing in the universe.

So his followers showered powerful people with gifts in exchange for loyalty, faith, and silence about anything they might have understood or discovered concerning the great Anterian god.

In turn, those wealthy and powerful men agreed with the three preachers to tighten the noose around the people of Antroto, especially in the region where the researchers’ ideas were spreading.

Anyone who owned markets or shops was instructed to squeeze ordinary people until they stopped listening to the young researchers. They were to frighten them with talk of punishment, hell, and divine anger. They were to reduce food supplies, restrict livelihoods, and make survival harder.

Anyone with authority or social status among the wealthy was expected to use that authority immediately for Anter’s benefit.

They were told to frighten people with the power they possessed, to intimidate them, and, if necessary, to imprison or torture them. Accusations could be invented. Crimes could be fabricated. Evidence was optional.

Every rich and influential man was encouraged to use his money, power, and position to humiliate ordinary people, close off their livelihoods, frighten them, starve them, and create obstacles in almost every part of daily life.

Then, after creating the problem, they would tell the people that the only solution was the god Anter — the merciful savior who would strike with an iron hand and then offer relief from the suffering his own system had created.

After hunger, fear, humiliation, deprivation, and threats, the people were expected to turn back to the one “merciful” god who supposedly controlled the magic answer to every pain.

He would show mercy — but only to those who believed in him.

And the plan began to work.

The wealthy men of money and authority started carrying out the carefully prepared scheme, the beautifully cooked little political stew that had been seasoned by greed.

Naturally, they expected payment. They would receive much in return for their services to the powerful god Anter and his preachers. Nothing came without a reward.

In exchange, they too would distribute money and open the doors of livelihood to anyone among the people who obeyed them.

Anyone who refused would be left to starve, suffer, or go to prison.

Those who obeyed were granted the right to live with dignity.

Those who disobeyed were promised pain.

Soon everyone was waiting for gifts: the wealthy and influential, who expected more power, money, and status for serving Anter, and the three preachers, who remained determined to hold lectures and religious lessons wherever they could attract anyone capable of serving them.

Everyone had his price.

And the great Anter, they promised, would never forget those who helped him.

He would reward them generously, secure their positions, and defend them if they defended him.

How could he possibly forget them? They were his loyal friends and his honored preachers. Together they formed a partnership as tightly connected as stones in a building: if one piece complained, the rest trembled with it.

As for the poor people, they were crushed between two millstones. They had little choice but to obey.

They became like a donkey chasing a carrot, driven by hunger and desire while the carrot stayed always just out of reach.

They imagined it swinging temptingly before them, dancing like a flirtatious woman teasing her prey while never allowing him to possess what he wanted.

Behind them came the stick.

If the donkey stopped to rest — to think, even for a moment — the stick came down across its back.

That was the life of the poor people and the believing slaves, whether they had chosen that role freely or had been forced into it in exchange for food, freedom from accusation, or relief from daily suffering.

And so Anter, his preachers, and his followers continued recruiting the wealthy, winning them over, bribing them, and using every possible method.

They received money for religion, publicity, influence, and every kind of propaganda. They used whatever means they possessed to serve the sacred faith, defend it, preserve its prestige, and fight whatever conspiracies they claimed were being plotted against it.

They constantly reminded people to pray to the merciful Anter and beg him to remove his anger from them.

Those believers were told that fear was a sign of piety.

The frightened were not cowards, they said.

They were “pious.”

A pious person knew how to fear, submit, humble himself, bow, and surrender beneath the god’s power. Those were the standard qualifications of a good, righteous believer.

Without them, no one could be considered a true believer in Anter’s eyes.

The propaganda spread everywhere. The wealthy and officeholders spent enormous sums on it. They bought the conviction of the believing slaves at any price.

If sermons and speeches failed, they would deprive people of food.

If persuasion failed, they would create hunger.

They even closed markets in several parts of Antroto, trying to force believing slaves away from the ideas and publications of the young researchers and back toward faith.

Faith was presented as a road of thorns that every believer must walk before receiving approval, food, and drink.

And a significant number of people were affected.

The propaganda, the speeches, and the wealthy men’s methods were varied: temptation, seduction, promises, rewards — and also intimidation, starvation, and fear.

Anter had given them complete freedom to act because fear had overtaken him. The new researchers had become a direct threat to his great, arrogant throne.

He paid his followers lavishly for every service they performed in his name, repaying every coin they spent with thousands or millions.

Every service had a price.

They were not helping Anter out of the goodness of their hearts.

They were investing in their own interests.

The preachers, the wealthy, the powerful, and the officeholders were all tied to him by the same bargain.

The situation grew worse. The people divided into supporters and opponents.

But numbers were not everything. The majority stood with Anter not because they believed in him, but because they were afraid of hunger, torture, and persecution.

Anter’s men and the spokesmen for his god used every kind of fabricated accusation and oppression: arrest, imprisonment, deprivation of food and drink.

Anyone who opposed or questioned them could be punished.

Anyone who obeyed the divine Anterian orders could save himself and his family from the anger of the great, exalted god.

A smaller group, however, consisted of people genuinely affected by the religious propaganda. They became sincere believers in Anter.

So the largest group of Anter’s followers were those who believed, defended, or served him whether they truly wanted to or not, because self-interest had trapped them there.

The smaller group were those who resisted.

They rejected the false god Anter — and eventually rejected the idea of gods altogether. They searched for a god and found only mirage, imagination, and illusion slipping through their fingers like mercury.

They became convinced that there was no need for gods and no reason to preserve a lie that had deceived them for so long.

They chose science, understanding, and thought as their tools for explaining the world around them.

To the naked eye, however, Anter seemed to be winning.

The voices of his followers drowned out almost every other voice. His servants moved across the land spreading corruption, humiliating people, and terrorizing the enemies of the god Anter.

Of course they did.

Anter’s enemies were their enemies.

And if the ship carrying the Anterian god suffered even a tiny leak, the whole vessel might sink into a deep black sea.

The ship was one ship.

The goal was one goal.

The interests were shared.

Therefore the ship had to be saved at any cost.

But wait.

Sometimes a number is just a number.

Where does real strength lie — in intelligence, logic, and science, or in muscle, authority, and money?

That was the same question Aref raised during a secret meeting with the young researchers.

His words flew through the room like arrows. His voice carried the heat of his anger, although he tried desperately to control his rebellious tone so that none of Anter’s followers or agents would hear.

“We would be fools,” he said, “if we continued to remain silent while this stupidity goes on.”

He looked from one researcher to another.

“You all know that true power is not found in money, status, authority, or influence. That kind of power is temporary. It is like ice melting under the heat of knowledge, science, and logic.

“Science and reason can melt the ignorance and superstition that have been armed with money and authority.

“We need a tool. A weapon. Something powerful enough to tear away this temporary false mask and expose what lies beneath it.

“We cannot remain silent much longer.

“After all these years of ignorance, superstition, and metaphysical fantasy, I believe the time for change has finally come.

“Truth must be brought into the light.

“We, and everyone who shares our position, must become one hand — a hammer strong enough to break this spreading farce and these poisonous superstitions.

“We are the stronger weapon.

“We will not be frightened by Anter’s officials, wealthy supporters, or followers.

“We will not be frightened by hunger and poverty, or by the torture that has surrounded our families, our friends, our neighbors, and everyone who lives on Antroto.

“This age of injustice has to end.

“And we will be the ones who draw the final line beneath it.”

One of the researchers answered him.

“But how? And when?

“I agree with you that we must stand against what is happening. We must all resist as researchers and educated people. But the situation is no longer simple. It has become extremely difficult.

“Anter and his people are using all their power to destroy anyone who follows our ideas, anyone who refuses to believe in Anter, anyone who chooses reason, logic, and science over faith.

“They torture anyone who leaves the faith. Anyone who exposes them becomes an enemy.

“And whenever science threatens to strip away the preachers’ cover, the preachers respond everywhere by shouting that science is limited. The mind is human, they say. Science has not yet reached the hidden halls of the great, mysterious Anterian god who supposedly created everything.

“They use the limits of current knowledge as an excuse to protect every superstition they have invented.”

Another researcher joined the discussion.

“Exactly. Anter’s followers, his preachers, and wealthy men with money and influence are using every material resource they possess to seduce the believing slaves and purchase their loyalty.

“They shower loyal believers with gifts, promotions, money, and rewards. Anyone who believes in Anter is treated well.

“At the same time, they use pressure, torture, deprivation, and every form of daily punishment against anyone who leaves the faith and rejects Anter’s worship.

“They starve those people and their families. Their children go to sleep hungry, groaning with pain in their empty stomachs, until the believer surrenders and returns.

“Then they bring him back to the preachers’ places of worship and parade him before the others as if he had returned voluntarily.

“They pretend he is a repentant believer who freely found the truth — that he discovered nothing but misery and humiliation outside the Anterian faith and found peace only when he returned to the great god.

“They use his tears to convince others who may be thinking of leaving.

“The poor man has been forced to return, but his tears make it appear as though he chose to return.

“The whole performance is designed to convince everyone that Anter is a real god, that belief in him is the right path, and that true error lies in turning away from him.”

Another researcher spoke, his voice bitter.

“Yes. And of course Anter’s followers who control money, influence, and authority do not buy silence cheaply. They do not pay to preserve the faith of these believing slaves out of generosity.

“They buy the performance because they themselves were bought first.

“Anter, his minister Qandil, his followers, his supporters, and especially his preachers have purchased these believers too. Anter bought their loyalty, and they sold it to him at the highest possible price.

“They didn’t do it because they loved him.

“They did it because he protects them, protects their wealth and influence, and rewards them in return.

“The preachers protect their wealth and status. The wealthy and powerful protect their positions. Everyone protects Anter — and Anter protects everyone.

“It is a bargain of mutual protection.

“I have heard that they shut down an entire market in a neighboring village for a month or more. They paralyzed trade and ordinary daily life in a whole city on Antroto.

“They impose curfews on people from morning onward. They close businesses and sources of income under absurd excuses simply because they suspect that someone among the people may have abandoned the path of faith.

“What kind of religion is that?

“What kind of mercy?

“It is plain terrorism.

“They close every door to work and livelihood and use their authority to disrupt daily life. They do it to break the believing slaves and force them back to the path of faith — not freely, not willingly, but under coercion.

“They also use that fear to terrorize anyone who might be wavering between faith and the road of science, reason, and logic.

“A person begins to think. He hesitates. He almost leaves the faith.

“Then he is starved, threatened, tortured, or imprisoned until he crawls back in fear and humiliation — even before he has fully left.

“They punish people for leaving the faith, then use their suffering to force them back into it, chained by hunger, pain, and daily oppression.

“In the face of all this power, what are we supposed to do?”

Aref answered firmly.

“In spite of them, we can act.

“I have been following these events every day. They have set a furious revolution burning inside me. My mind is boiling like a pot over a fire — with sorrow, rage, frustration, and disgust at what is happening.

“The reason we are meeting today is to build a plan and draw a road toward freedom.

“We will begin here.

“And I am convinced that we can do it.”

Aref and his friends began constructing a detailed plan. They mapped every direction and movement with extreme care.

Their goal was to bring down Anter’s tyranny and the network of preachers, wealthy men, authorities, and influential followers who sustained it on Antroto.

They kept working every day, following a timetable they had established among themselves, preparing, planning, and thinking carefully until the moment came to put their carefully designed plan into action.