Hypersleep Event Paradox

By Bobba Karr

Hypersleep Event Paradox: The Last Sigh of the Moor

“A fantasy adventure full of action, suspense, and romance surrounding true historical events that helped shape the world.”

What would you do if you woke up 500 years in the future, only to build a life and later get launched back to your original time? That's exactly what happens to the alchemist, Madjid, in 1492. His exciting journey through time and space raises a number of questions in his own mind as well as the minds of those close to him during his adventures.

Join Madjid as he cracks the Philosopher's Stone mystery by transmuting ordinary iron into gold. When the Spanish Catholic Royals get news of the discovery, Madjid escapes with the help of Boabdil, the last Moorish King of Granada, across the Mediterranean to North Africa. With the help of Baba Aruj, the famous Barbary Corsair, he continues his journey to Iraq, where he tries to carry on with his work but is buried alive in an earthquake.

In 21st century Iraq during US involvement there, he is unearthed from a hidden cocoon by a missile intended for insurgent jihadists. Our hero is hospitalized and slowly recovers, only to find himself 500 years in the future. After adjusting to his new life in an unfamiliar time, he goes to sleep one night to wake back in 1492.

In this fantasy adventure, Madjid discovers secrets on the conflict of choice between the physical and metaphysical, encompassing space-time as we know it... and don't. Where (or when) will he wind up? Will he rediscover how to turn base metals into gold? And, most importantly, how was he able to travel in time? There's only one way to find out... join Madjid in his travels across worlds and through time.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bobba Karr
• Release date: Mar 10, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301573868

Bobba Karr

Aboubekr Boutaleb, known as Bob, graduated from UCL London and lives in Kent, England with his wife. He is the author of numerous articles dealing with a wide variety of subjects including fantasy and sci-fi genres. Apart from writing, Bob loves cooking, soccer, travel and golf.

Book preview

Hypersleep Event Paradox

The Last Sigh of the Moor

Aboubekr Boutaleb

~~~

Smashwords Edition

www.prosepublishing.com

Prose Publishing

Copyright © Prose Publishing - Aboubekr Boutaleb 2012

All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of Prose Publishing and Aboubekr Boutaleb.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Print edition ISBN 978-0-9575177-0-7

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

This book is dedicated to my wife Lucy Ann

EPIGRAPH

As there is oil in sesame seed

And a spark in flint

Thus your beloved is in your body

Wake it if you can

As the pupil is in the eye

So is the creator in the body.

The fool does not know this secret

And runs outside

Looking for it in vain.

That what you seek

Is in the four corners of the earth.

It is inside,

You do not see it,

Because it lives behind the veils of illusion.

Kabir Sahib

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Acknowledgement

Epigraph

Chapter 1 - The Living Gold

Chapter 2 - Granada

Chapter 3 - Escape to Algeciras

Chapter 4 - The Road to Baghdad

Chapter 5 - The Last Sigh of the Moor

Chapter 6 - Prisoner

Chapter 7 - The Awakening

Chapter 8 - The Paradox

Chapter 1

The Living Gold

‘Kan – It was so’ on April 21, 1491, Cordoba, al-Andalus, the former capital of the Umayyad Caliphate, the city described as the Ornament of the World that boasted Europe’s first street lights, the bright lights that illuminated it and indeed shone over the entire Iberian Peninsula are dim. Now there are tensions, in fact the situation is getting worse between Muslims and Christians. The two cultures – that for almost eight centuries were inextricably interlinked – lived happily and freely side by side in an open and integrated community, an Islamic society whose members were defined by religion and culture rather than ethnicity – are sadly at loggerheads.

A few miles west of the city, not too far from the old Caliph’s residence called Madinat al Zahra, the City of Flowers, lay one of the three wonders of Islamic Spain that exploits its position on a terrace-like slope below the Sierra Morena. Inside a small inconspicuous dwelling and among a clutter of instruments for distillation, test tubes, dishes and furnaces was a young, chiselled, supremely fit man with dark shoulder-length hair and piercing laser-sharp hazel eyes set in an intense face. He had aesthetic appeal and his skin was a fetching shade of olive. He was shy but could be brazen. This twenty-seven year old, called Madjid, was busy heating, mixing, experimenting and testing all sorts of chemical substances. He was seeking a Holy Grail, transforming ordinary metal into gold.

Madjid is a rare breed issued from a long line of great Arab alchemists, just like his hero, the greatest of them all, Jabir Ibn Hayyan, who modified the Aristotelian concept of the four elements: fire, water, earth and air, the fifth being ether – the material that fills the region of the universe above the terrestrial sphere – and two forces: conflict and harmony – by putting forward that all metals were composed of two main components: sulphur and mercury. He also combined the Chinese alchemists’ concept of the Philosopher’s Stone and the Egyptian Elixir of Life into a single entity. Madjid’s father, Ali Abencerra, was also an alchemist. At one time he was Granada’s Sultan Abul Hassan Ali, father of Emir Boabdil, a personal physician and most trusted man until he was gravely injured in a battle and retired early. He taught his son the science of alchemy, the first essentials of chemistry, and often repeated to his beloved son: "You should perform practical work and conduct as many experiments as possible, if you don’t you will never attain the least degree of mastery". He himself came from an almost unbroken lineage of distinguished alchemists, such as Abul Quasim al-Iraqi.

From a young age Madjid excelled in alchemy and the dark menacing unknown that was often associated with it. He even had the scars to prove the dangerous work he embarked upon. But he loved mixing chemicals and testing their reactions. He liked experimenting with new substances, measuring and analysing them carefully; he also revelled in creating new compounds and loved the thrill of potential discoveries. The search for the stone was so tempting that he took up the quest despite the fact that it was a notoriously hazardous, even potentially fatal, pursuit; but he was not dissuaded from cracking its secrets. Fully aware of the dangers involved, quite apart from his unorthodox research practices, he was pragmatic enough to strongly believe in the transmutation process as a central objective and dismissed the widely believed concept that the stone bestowed immortality by removing impurities and transforming cells in the human body.

His strength lay in the fact that unlike some of his great predecessors, he stuck to the alchemical dictum that one must separate the volatile from the fixed and he believed that there was no single substance which would be enough to make one superior composite, therefore, he thought of making two amalgams – one red to convert silver into gold, and a white one to convert the remaining metals into silver. He also believed that only a fraction of a compound would be enough to convert an unlimited amount of imperfect metal into gold by setting off a never-ending catalytic chain reaction.

His first major breakthrough was made a few months back, when he succeeded in transforming a small piece of ordinary iron into silver. Since then his task had taken on a different complexion, establishing he was on the right path of cracking the philosopher’s stone mystery, thus achieving the hitherto impossible feat of transmuting ordinary iron ore into pure gold. His persistence, whilst being more frenetic, was calculating.

During the past three years he had been totally focused on this mission that he considered sacred, but he was oblivious of the worrying events taking place in all the towns and hamlets across his beloved native Andalusia in Moorish Iberia, the great medieval Muslim state. He had the ability to keep going despite repeated failures, mistakes and frustrations.

He worked in his isolated old house, which was divided into a small area for cooking, eating and sleeping, and another he called his science universe, where he carried out his research and experiments. Built in the middle of his lab was the furnace, and all around it standing on shelves are all sorts of vessels such as, for instance, the alchemist’s best friend, the alembic, and other earthen- and glass wares containing cinnabar, spirits furans, saccharin saturnine, sale ammonia, aqua regia and aqua fortis. Immediately to the right of the front shelf was a pelican for spirit production, and next to the furnace stood a cauldron with bellows at the bottom. To the left was a mortar-like altar used to hold chemicals and ore mixtures for experimentation purposes.

The last few days had been particularly frenetic because he had an inner feeling, a second sense, a hunch that he was onto something big. He only allowed himself three to four hours’ sleep a day and literally just a few minutes to scoff something to eat. One Tuesday, started just like any other ordinary day, Madjid was sticking to the rigid scientific work routine he had set himself ever since he began his research.

All day long Madjid was so absorbed in his work that he didn’t even look physically tired. His eyes were narrow and squinting but still concentrating on each and every task at hand, mixing one compound with another, testing, taking notes, heating and distilling with the alembic. The processes were sometimes repetitive but he didn’t mind. On the major shelf were stored dozens of little phials containing different chemicals, each with its own reference name or number. It was now dusk, the last hour of daylight, and outside the light was gradually leaving the sky. It grew darker and darker. He lit his bees-wax lamps; he didn’t use the usual tinderbox and firestone; he used an ingenious system he had devised, consisting of raw hemp fibres and pieces of ‘sulphur-match’ for quick lighting. Time seemed to fly past. It was late in the night but he was still busy mixing and assessing. He picked up a particular little phial containing a yellow liquid and inspected it, making sure it was the right item he was after, then he selected another vial and poured the yellow fluid content into the latter, and shook the mixture. As it swirled round and round it slowly turned from yellow to brown, then into a multitude of tiny particles of startlingly beautiful hues, a vivid kaleidoscope of colours scintillating like microscopic fireworks.

Madjid was mesmerised.

"Wow, how beautiful!" he screamed out loud.

A moment later the colourful result inside the glass tube increased into very bright sparks of a million little suns. Woooowwww. Madjid’s eyes were momentarily blinded by the tremendous emission of energy, but when he reopened them, the dazzling effect had completely ceased just as suddenly as it had started.

Aw! I was enjoying the show! What now? he shrieked.

Something inside told him to add more of the substance. He poured in a little more; a greyish white-hot vapour erupted from the glass container with a big WWWHHHOOOSSSSSSHHHHHH! Then lightning flashed and a single unusually loud thunderclap was heard outside, although it wasn’t raining! It made him jump.

Whooooaaaaa! I never saw and heard such dramatic and violent chemical reaction before! he hollered, a bit disturbed and visibly startled.

Then silence. Extremely unnerving total silence. Madjid was clearly unsettled by the eerie mood around him; he looked frozen on the spot as if paralysed, incapable of neither moving nor uttering a single word.

A greyish ghostly figure appeared and whispered in his ear in a malevolent voice:

". . . gooooold and richeeeeees . . . richeeeees . . . or eternaaaaaal life orrrr . . . deeeeaaath . . . deeaaath . . ." Then it disappeared as quickly as it appeared; Madjid woke up from his brief torpor.

By Allah, whatever happened? he yelled, trembling from head to toe. He was still holding the glass vial with some trepidation and closely examined its content. He noticed that the iron had transformed into some sort of a blob; he shook the tube and suddenly it began quivering in a dramatic fashion, then stopped . . . then started again . . .

He was gob smacked; his heart pumped wildly, the shock of the incredible, awe-inspiring phenomenon he was witnessing was clearly legible on his face. He tried to stay calm until another loud thunderclap was heard outside.

Madjid was nervous, very nervous. That’s odd, very odd. It’s not raining, what was that thunder all about?

Then more sounds. Whaaam Baaaang!

The front door, which was open to naturally aerate the lab, suddenly slammed shut with such ferocity that Madjid almost recoiled out of his skin.

NOOOOOOOOOO, WHHHAAAT WAAAS THAAAAT FOR? THERE IS NO WIND, OH GOD, WHAAAAT IS GOOOOOOING ON HERE?

He was shaking again and nearly dropped the vial. The effect was dramatically enhanced as the organic-like matter started beating akin to a tiny living heart, changing colour from red to vermilion with each throb, alarming in its jerking behaviour; he could even feel the palpitation through the glass tube he was holding between his right index finger and thumb.

Thudump . . . thudump . . . thudump . . . thudump . . . thudump . . . thudump . . .

Madjid was transfixed.

"Beesmi Allahi ar-rahman ar-rahim – In the name of Allah, the Compassionate and the Merciful – what have I created? No, I shouldn’t blaspheme, only Allah creates living things . . . It’s . . . it’s trying to talk to me . . ." he said to himself, shaking like a leaf. It was like the entity was trying to tell him telepathically to make a choice.

". . . gold and riches . . . eternal life or . . ."

The heart beat increased its speed to a crescendo as it gradually grew bigger and bigger.

Lubdublubdud lubdudlubdud lubdudlubdudlubdudlubdud . . .

Madjid was now terrorised. He shuddered, his fingers – just about managing to keep hold of the vial – were getting hotter and hotter, and he started to sweat profusely. He jumped when something brushed his leg. It was the stray black tomcat he’d adopted and called simply Cat, which was sleeping comfortably not too far from the kiln, suddenly woken from his slumber. He brushed Madjid’s ankle and, for no apparent reason, his normally serene feline face contorted into an open-mouthed sneer, his ears flattened, his back arching and tail fluffed up. He let out a strident snake-like hissing noise as if utterly spooked.

What the hell is that? Madjid felt a cold shiver run down his spine until he saw the cat hissing and growling, its back still arched.

It’s you! You stupid cat! Why did you do that? What’s the matter with you? he cursed.

The situation was made worse when the lamps began dimming away and the glass phial started to arc into tiny lightnings. The atmosphere was electric all around and he felt it, then CRASHHHH! The glass tube shattered to smithereens and the heart fell on the ground.

Madjid stumbled backwards and fell to the floor on his backside. He was now facing his cat. He noticed that the tomcat had stopped in his stride and appeared immobilized with fear.

What is the matter with you?

The cat just growled and hissed again as if in answer, and ran away with its tail between its legs to hide in some safe corner.

Madjid was as white as a sheet. He was spooked. To make matters worse, all the lamps somehow self-extinguished. He was in complete darkness. The only light source was the heart, glowing now in bright red then orange at each beat change. He regained his composure a little and started looking frantically, still trembling with fright, for a candle and a sulphur-match and after groping desperately around for a few minutes, he finally found the necessary items and as soon as he lit a candle, the beating sound of the heart progressively decreased.

Thump . . . thump . . . thump . . . thump . . .

Madjid squatted, then approached carefully and slowly on all fours with great apprehension to see what the fleshy substance that had scared the living daylight out of him really was. At a relatively safe distance of about two metres away, he stopped and watched, his eyes wide, but he wouldn’t dare touch the strange matter as it bobbed up and down. Madjid mustered up the little courage he had left and decided to wait, anxiously expecting something to ensue . . . Nothing occurred at first, then a most extraordinary magical metamorphosis took place; slowly but surely the quivering stopped and the red light that it emitted became hardly perceptible. He kept watching with bated breath, and as soon as the red light was completely out, a miraculous transmutation unfolded before his incredulous eyes – the ordinary piece of iron that had transformed to a kind of organic thing, which looked like a living, beating heart, was now changing to colours from dark grey, to light grey, white, brown and beige then finally to a bright yellow . . . A gloriously gleaming, shining gold nugget lay before him!

He seemed fixated for a few moments; his heart started drumming, his breath coming in rasps. He lurched forward and gently picked up the little gleaming rock to examine it very closely and ascertain what he thought it really was, while inside him his contained excitement and happiness were battling for supremacy. His years of dogged dedication seemed to have been rewarded. Gold fever, one of the most contagious and dangerous diseases that had afflicted man since the beginning of time, was in the air; he could see it, feel it, taste it and smell it.

Then the inevitable explosion of true elation took place in slow motion. His facial expression said it all . . . he was