The Children of Seven Climates

By Halil Ibrahim Balkas

If a bomb kills everyone on its path, who should we blame? Should it be the person who exploded it or the one who invented it in the first place for the sake of science? Who can say that science always has advanced humanity? If a bomb killed all adults on earth and left innocent children and animals behind alive, would it still be considered an

• Language: English
• Publisher: Press Dionysus
• Release date: Jun 25, 2021
• ISBN: 9781913961084

Halil Ibrahim Balkas

Halil İbrahim Balkaş was born in 23 November 1946 in Kaş. He was graduated from the Faculty of Economics. He retired from TRT after working as a commentator and reporter in the same corporation for thirty years. He lives in Antalya. He likes solitude, trekking and music. He is not fond of eating, but tea and coffee seem like the favor of life for him. He likes reading and writing. Before starting to write, he usually listens to the songs he keeps on listening recently. He likes poem. He memorizes the ones he likes. He likes to read them on his own; but sometimes to his friends. On the short article introducing himself in his web-page, he writes: "Life passes. When I close my eyes to this world one day, my memories and writings will remain as intrinsic for a period of history. I know someone will read them and I will live in them." He has a daughter and two grandchildren. They live abroad; in France. Published Books: "The Children of Seven Climates 1". Even if a bestseller as a children's book; it is actually for adults. "Stars will Shine": Science fiction. Futuristic novel. "Violinist, the Murderer": Science fiction - Crime Novel "Once Upon a Time... Gömbe": A Narrative Autobiographical Study. New Unpublished Book: "Two Solutions: Literary Councils and Thoughts on Novel Writing."

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PRESS DIONYSUS

2021

All rights reserved. Printed in the UK. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

First published in 2021 by PRESS DIONYSUS LTD in the UK, 167, Portland Road, N15 4SZ, London.

www.pressdionysus.com

Paperback

ISBN: 978-1-913961-08-4

Copyright © 2021 by PRESS DIONYSUS.

The

Children of 7 Climates

Halil Ibrahim Balkas

Translated by Greg Key

PRESS DIONYSUS

Press Dionysus •

ISBN- 978-1-913961-08-4

© 2021 Press Dionysus

First Edition, July 2021, London

Translated by Greg Key

Cover art: Salih Mercanoğlu

Press Dionysus LTD, 167, Portland Road, N15 4SZ,

London

• e-mail: [e-mail]

• web: www.pressdionysus.com

About the Author

Halil İbrahim Balkaş was born in 23 November 1946 in Kaş. He was graduated from the Faculty of Economics. He retired from TRT after working as a commentator and reporter in the same corporation for thirty years. He lives in Antalya.

He likes solitude, trekking and music. He is not fond of eating; but tea and coffee seem like the favor of life for him.

He likes reading and writing. Before starting to write, he usually listens to the songs he keeps on listening recently.

He likes poem. He memorizes the ones he likes. He likes to read them on his own; but sometimes to his friends.

On the short article introducing himself in his web-page, he writes: Life passes. When I close my eyes to this world one day, my memories and writings will remain as intrinsic for a period of history. I know someone will read them and I will live in them.

He has a daughter and two grandchildren. They live abroad; in France.

Published Books:

The Children of Seven Climates 1. Even if a bestseller as a children’s book; it is actually for the adults.

Stars will Shine: Science fiction. Futuristic novel.

Violinist, the Murderer: Science fiction – Crime Novel

Once Upon a Time… Gömbe: A Narrative Autobiographical Study.

New Unpublished Book:

Two Solutions: Literary Councils and Thoughts on Novel Writing.

About the Book

In Alan Parker’s film, Bugsy Malone (1976), only children were performing. I was impressed. After watching the film, I thought how the world would be like if it was left to children. As playing a game, I looked for the ways of leaving the world to children. At first, I thought about the viruses having effect only on the adults; however HG Wells has already used this theme in the War of the Worlds. Later, I thought about nuclear power. The non-destructive neutron bomb could be another stage following the destructive atom and hydrogen bombs as massacre weapons. Considering this, I invented the fourth nuclear bomb which is not destructive and can only affect the adults (selective). In this way, the world would be left for the children.

Is this a children’s book? Yes and no, actually. Today, if you are talking about space, your book is science fiction. And if the children are the heroes of the plot, then it is a children’s book. I also considered the children while writing this book. However, it did not remain only as a children’s book despite the children’s interest on its Turkish publishing. Because I witnessed that there probably were more adults than children reading the book.

The Children of Seven Climates is my first book. I was very happy when I first saw it on a bookstore window. I felt the same happiness when it became a best seller.

The book consists of two parts. It is the description of the transition from dystopia to utopia. In the second part which includes only the children, it tells you what kind of a life they have established and how a life should be in reality. The book will be translated soon.

Wish you pleasure while reading.

Halil Ibrahim Balkas

SAHARA

There were three Bedouins around the fire, one young, one middle-aged, and the third very old. 

I don’t understand, said the young one. This fire we’ve lit is so small. I mean, do you think they’ll see it?

The middle-aged one said, Fire can be seen from a great distance. Especially on a dark night like this, when there’s only starlight.

The old man turned to the youth. I understand why you’re worried, he said. You don’t want us to go back empty-handed after a twenty-day journey. They were supposed to be here at midnight. It’s been three hours and they still haven’t come. What can we do other than wait?

Signaling to the others wasn’t the only reason they had lit the fire. It also took the edge off the freezing cold of the desert night.

Still doubting that the fire would be visible, the young man asked, What are they doing in the middle of the desert anyway?

What business is it of ours? said the old man. It’s hard to fathom their motives. Our only concern is the money they’ll pay us.

The middle-aged man said, My concern is the parachutes. They fetch a high price. Seeing as how they won’t be able to use them, it looks like we’re going to be left with them.

Who do you sell them to? the youth asked.

There are plenty of buyers, he replied. Indicating the old man, he said, Do you know how this desert fox found three camel loads of parachutes?

No. How? How did you find them, Uncle? Tell us about it, so the time will pass quicker.

The old man took a deep breath and was about to start speaking when they heard a sound from far off. The three pricked up their ears, peering through the darkness in the direction from which the sound had come, and saw a plane in the distance flashing red and white lights as it approached.

The youth said, I can tell it’s big by the noise it makes.

The giant aircraft passed over them. The desert dwellers watched until it vanished from sight. A short while later, three parachutists landed one by one within reach of the firelight: The Americans they had been waiting for. As each one landed, he got free of his parachute and backpack and busied himself with a task, without so much as a word of greeting. The first one pulled a device out of his pocket and busied himself with it. It made signal noises. Grabbing the flashlight hanging from his belt, he went off into the darkness. The second to land had removed several parts from his pack and set about fitting them together. The third was a woman. Gather up the parachutes! she commanded the Arabs. The middle-aged Arab, who knew English, started doing as he was told, and the others followed suit. The woman went over to the second American and began assisting him.

The one who had gone off into the darkness shouted, I found it!

The woman issued her second command to the Arabs. Bring the parachutes and come with us!

The middle-aged Arab asked, Are we to leave the camels?

Yes, leave them, said the woman, with a tone of irritation in her voice that made it clear she found the question nonsensical. We’re just going right over there. I don’t suppose there’s anyone around here who would make off with your camels.

There was a large crate in the sand, which had presumably landed with a fourth parachute, but all the Arabs saw was the crate. After depositing their load, they were told to get away from it.

Before opening the crate, the Americans turned on the spotlight they had assembled. The immediate area was lit up with a dazzling daytime brightness. The Americans opened that crate and took out a large canvas, which they spread over the sand. Then they removed other parts from the crate and assembled them quickly, as if by rote. What they constructed resembled an artillery shell, except that it wasn’t made up of a capsule and a head. Furthermore, it had buttons on it that lit up in different colors when the first American activated it by remote control.

This man, who was clearly the commander, took out his telephone and held an incomprehensible conversation full of letters and numbers. Apparently following new instructions, he pressed some more buttons on the control. The lights on the projectile-like device flashed several times and then went out. Mission accomplished, the commander said into the telephone.

The device was a new model of atomic bomb that had been brought to the desert to be tested for the first time. A bell jar was removed from the crate and placed over it, and everything around it was picked up. They burned the wood of the crate, mounted the camels, and rode off. At this time, morning was breaking in the desert.

***

The ten-day journey on camelback came to an end in a savannah within the borders of Chad at the edge of the desert, in a settlement of five reed huts.

A small airplane was waiting for them there. The time had come for them to leave the Arabs. Commander John Edmons called the middle-aged Sayyid over to him and immediately found all three Arabs facing him.

The commander held out a largish envelope. Here’s the compensation for your services and your camels.

Sayyid stared into the commander’s eyes. How can we give our camels? They’re our livelihood.

We’re sending you back home by plane. There’s enough money in there to buy the finest camels in your country. That way you won’t have to spend days traveling through the desert.

Sayyid peered inside the envelope, and so did the other two. They couldn’t believe their eyes. Their faces beamed with delight.

Sayyid told his friends what the commander had said. They had objections, and they spoke all at once. They walked off in the heat of their argument. Eventually, they stood before the commander again.

Commander, said Sayyid. None of us has ever flown on a plane. We don’t want to. We’re afraid. So we want to give you back the money for our camels. We want to ride home on them.

That’s impossible, said Commander John Edmons. As of today, that whole desert is off-limits to humans. Everyone there is being evacuated.

Sayyid was shocked. Why?

Because a test is being carried out with the participation of all the countries that share the desert. A military exercise. That’s why you have to be flown.

Sayyid was still in shock. The commander noticed this.

I know it’s hard to understand, but that’s the way it is.

It’s impossible to do what you’re saying, Sayyid responded. The desert looks empty because it’s so big in comparison to the population. But in fact, it’s home to enough people to make a whole county.

Now it was the commander’s turn to be shocked. What Sayyid was saying wasn’t unreasonable.

Sayyid translated for his friends. The old one, Abdullah, who they called the Desert Fox, spoke with Sayyid as if giving him guidance. Commander John Edmons, Engineer Gilbert Dennis, and his assistant Adeline Schilla watched them. They could see their cunning and figured out that something was going on.

After a long talk, Sayyid said to the commander, We can’t travel now.

Why not?

"We have to overcome our fear. We have to eat. We have to get water from that well over there and splash it on ourselves. We shouldn’t travel in the dark. Early tomorrow morning, inshallah."

Now the three Americans moved away from Sayyid and his friends while they conferred with one another. At the end of their discussion, the commander shouted, All right!

But when they awoke in the morning, both the camels and the Arabs were gone.

Without losing any time, they informed the Pentagon in order to start satellite surveillance. They also conducted an airplane survey of the entire area that the Arabs might have covered in that time. In spite of all their efforts, they didn’t find the slightest trace of them. It was bewildering; there was no way that six camels and three Bedouins could vanish in that enormous flatland, which didn’t have the smallest nook to hide in.

In fact, finding them would have meant finding the rebel forces that were fighting against Chad’s government, because towards sunrise, the three desert men had been taken captive by people who had suddenly appeared out of nowhere. They were taken to wooden sheds covered in sand, swarming with people. It was impossible for this base to be detected by satellite or airplane.

As far as the rebels were concerned, all captives without exception had to be killed, since they might lead the government forces to their base for pay.

Abdullah’s weeping was fitting for his age; his tears rolled silently down his cheeks. As for Sayyid and Yaqub, they sobbed like children and begged to be pardoned.

The failure to find the three men of the desert would not stand in the way of the Americans conducting the test