The Fearless

”I do not care if you die Martin”, blood rushed to Edward’s head. His grip on the telephone tightened. He is angry. “You must be joking Edward”, Martin could not believe his ears. He has been stuck in Damascus for the past six months and all his Editor-in-Chief wants is a ‘story’. “I risk my life everyday by talking to the regime forces not knowing when one of these fanatics will shoot my head off!” Martin pauses to get a bite of the falafel sandwich. Edward takes a long breath and loosens his tie. “I need something worthwhile from you Martin.” Edward’s tone is calmer now. Martin might not be the best field reporter but he is only one currently in Damascus and Edward has to make use of him. “Why don’t you try to get out of Damascus and try to find out something that I can sell?” Edward desperately wants something ‘sensational’ coming out of Syria that can propel the sale of their newspaper ‘Uncut Truth’. “Get out of Damascus!?” Martin’s voice is loud and angry, “I don’t know if you have noticed but there’s a WAR going on outside Damascus!” Edward lets out a sigh, “Try and find me something Martin, otherwise, I have to cut you loose.” Martin sits up straight at his one bedroom apartment at the centre of Damascus. “Are you threating to fire me Edward?” Martin’s voice is crisp, “Are you really going to fire the one reporter you have in Syria, who might die any moment because he ‘volunteered’ to do the job that nobody wanted, huh?” Edward does not want the conversation to continue anymore. He is late for his meeting with the management. “Find me something Martin. Something exclusive. Something worth the money you are making. Goodbye”, Edward slams the receiver down. The sudden silence is deafening for Martin. He looks at his falafel sandwich and whispers, “I am going to die here!”

Martin Steen never imagined that he will be in this mess when he left New York eight months back to get to Damascus and report on the ‘Civil War’ that started because some teenagers were arrested and tortured for painting anti-government slogans on a school wall. This was back in July 2011. When Martin arrived in December 2011 the civil unrest had already claimed more than 30,000 lives and had turned from a fight against dogmatism to a fight between Sia and Sunni. Damascus became the hotspot for all major news agencies. Martin knows that war is always good for News. Human suffering is the best commodity to sell and war provides enough of it. For the last six months, he safely stayed indoors at his apartment in Damascus, ate falafels, watched satellite TV and forwarded the intel he got from his local contacts. However, the world audience was losing its interest on the ‘Syrian Civil War’. He needed to find a story that will get their attention back and help him keep his job. He finishes off the sandwich and dials the number of Ismail Mullah, one of his local contacts. The call connects and Martin says in a decisive voice, “I want to meet The Fearless”.

It took Martin fourteen days to cover the distance of 450 kilometres between Damascus and Raqqa. “They not kill you brother”, Ismail reassures Martin in his broken English and smiles. “Yeah, we will see about that,” Martin thinks of turning back to Damascus. Maybe coming to the Islamic State controlled region of Ar Raqqah was not a bright idea. “You pay me good and I pay the ISIS good”, Ismail reassures Martin again, “They no kill news people, too much attention.” Martin does not find that statement amusing. They are here to meet an ISIS Lieutenant who will take them to meet ‘The Fearless’. All the major news correspondents and reporters have been trying to locate ‘The Fearless’ but no one knew who he was or whether the legend was even real. The only thing that is known about him is that he is invincible- a killing machine that cannot be killed. First reports of this super soldier emerged three months back when, it was reported that a single man killed an entire battalion of the regime forces who were trying to enter the province of Al Tabqah. The sudden disappearance of two Russian convoys two months back, was also attributed to ‘The Fearless’. According to some sources, streets of Aleppo were littered with bullets and ISIS Propaganda pamphlets claiming that ‘The Caliph’ has emerged- A Super hero who will bring retribution to the damned. “The Super Hero is fighting for the wrong side”, Martin sighs.

“Marhabaah Ismail”, finally the ISIS Lieutenant is here. “Marhabaah! Marhabaah!” Ismail greets him with a wide smile and the package of five thousand dollars. Meeting ‘The Fearless’ is not a cheap affair. “So, this is the kaafir, this is the infidel who wants to meet ‘The Fearless’”, the Lieutenant eyes him suspiciously. “Yes, yes, he good kaafir, good infidel”, Ismail chirps in. The Lieutenant looks at Ismail and they start talking in Arabic, after a couple of minutes signals to Martin to follow them. “Where are we going?” Martin enquires as he puts his backpack on. “To meet Allah’s supreme creation”, replied the Lieutenant as he puts the blindfold on Martin’s eyes. Martin’s heart skips a beat. He is going deep into ISIS territory to meet ‘The Fearless’.

Martin has no clue where they are going but he can sense that they are driving quite fast on a very rough terrain. “Things we do for an exclusive”, he thinks while trying to avoid puking from all that rough driving. Suddenly car comes to a stop. “Get out”, the Lieutenant commands. Martin comes out of the car, still blindfolded. He feels something cold touch his forehead. A gun. In that one instant, Martin gets a flashback of his entire life. “Do not worry kaafir, I not kill you, just warning”, Martin can feel the breath of the Lieutenant on his face. “You see Allah’s greatest warrior today, you see ‘The Fearless’” Martin can hear the Lieutenant spit, “You ask questions but no photos”, the muzzle of the  gun digs into his forehead, “You understand kaafir?” Martin swallows hard. He has never been so afraid in his life. “Yes, I understand”, Martin replies desperately trying to hide the fear in his voice. The Lieutenant takes of the blindfold, “Witness Al Shujean, Witness ‘The Fearless’” His eyes try to focus on the figure standing in front of him. It takes Martin a couple of seconds to adjust to the light. “Is this a joke?” Martin blurts out.

“Hold your Kaafir tongue, you dog”, the punch sends Martin reeling back. “How dare you insult Al Shujean!” the Lieutenant loads his gun and aims at Martin. “Samahah! Samahah! Forgive him! Forgive him!” Ismail jumps between the Lieutenant and Martin with arms stretched out, “Please my friend, do not kill him.” Ismail turns his head around, “Are you mad! Apologize! Apologize RIGHT NOW!” his voice filled with anger. Martin wipes the blood off his nose and gets on his knees. He does not want to die today. “I am really sorry for my words, my tongue was not where my heart is”, Martin speaks in an apologetic tone. “A man not in control of his tongue is not a man”, ‘The Fearless’ has spoken, “Holster your weapon Ilda. No one has to die today.” Martin breathes a sigh of relief as the Lieutenant holsters his gun. He looks at the person standing in front of him. The Fearless is a teenage boy!

“Stand Up!” The Fearless tells Martin in perfect English. Unsure of what he is witnessing Martin slowly stands up. “I understand your surprise kaafir”, the teenage boy smiles, “You are probably wondering how a boy like me can be Al Shujean, right?” Martin nods his head in agreement, blood still dripping from his nose. “Well, believe me when I say that I am the one they call Al Shujean, The Fearless!” The boy spreads out his arms as if to announce his presence to the world. Martin does not know what to say. He was expecting a brawny, battle-hardened man, but now he stands in front of a teenage boy who is not even old enough to shave. How can this lanky boy kill a battalion of armed soldiers? Martin takes a couple of steps forward and bows his head, “Forgive my insolence Al Shujean”, Martin tries to keep his voice as respectful as possible. He can sense that the boy is the leader here. “Underestimating your opponent is a mistake our enemies make often”, the boy smiles and points at a chair, signalling to Martin to take a seat. Martin slowly moves towards the chair and takes a seat. The boy sits on the chair opposite to him. He claps once and everyone around them quickly disperses, including Ismail. The boy then gazes at Martin, “so what do you want to ask The Fearless?”

Martin takes out his recorder, composes his thoughts and presses record. Showtime. 

-“What is your name?” Martin begins, no time for introductions.

- “You can refer to me as Al Shujean or as ‘The Fearless’, like the rest of the world”, the boy replies.

- “How old are you?” Martin continues.

- “Around Six hundred and forty three years”, the boy replies with a smile.

Silence.

-“You think I am lying. I do not blame you Mr. Reporter. We tend to deny the existence of things that our minds cannot comprehend. Some tea?” the boy asks Martin.

Still dazed by the response, Martin nods his head in agreement. “Is he mentally sick? Is he living in an illusion?” Martin wonders but decides to continue the conversation to find out more.

-“It is said that you have superpowers and that you are responsible for the death of the 62^nd battalion?”

-“Yes. That is true. I have also destroyed the Russian brigade”, the boy replies while handing over the cup of tea to Martin.

-“How?” surprise evident in Martin’s voice.

Explosion.

-“Like that”, The boy’s eye glistened in the brackish glow of the night as the gentle flicker of his hand makes the cupboard placed at the far corner of the room explode.

Martin has never experienced anything like this before. He witnessed what super power actually meant. You might read it in the comic books, feel fascinated by the super hero movies and romanticize the existence of a human with unhuman capabilities but when you meet one in real life the only feeling you have is that of fear. Martin has just met ‘The Fearless’.

-“How did you do that?” martin points at the still smouldering pieces of the cupboard.

-“I have the ability to control the structure of things- both living and material. I can control the basic chemistry of things. You can say that I can make the atoms dance to my whims”, The Fearless looks at Martin’s cup as the tea flows out of it and hangs mid-air.  

- Martin’s fear was turning into awe, “Can you please tell me a little bit more about your power?”

- The Fearless smiles, “I do not know the origin of my power, I just know that I have it. I just think about something and direct my energy towards it and the object responds. It is like my soul makes a connection and then overtakes the identity of the object allowing me to control it in twenty-two dimensions.”

- “You mean three dimensions, four if you consider time, right?” Martin responds instantly.

- “Sure. Four dimensions”, The Fearless gives a half smile.

Martin realizes his lack of understanding. Martin has never felt so clueless before. Whatever little he knew of the world seems to be irrelevant now. The Fearless has opened the Pandora’s Box for him.

- “Your power is truly remarkable but why use this power to kill innocent people?” Martin decides to ask the tough questions.

- “The idea of innocence is flawed Mr. Reporter, just like the idea of being guilty.”

- “Can you explain that a little?”

-“Duality. Everything in this world exist in a state of duality. Both of which are perceived as right and wrong but they are actually aspects-different versions without a moral or judgement code attached to it”, The Fearless snaps his finger and the tea hanging mid-air flows back into Martin’s cup, “What is innocent to you could be guilty to someone else at the same instant. Therefore, the same entity can exist in two forms. A hero for you can be a villain to someone else.”

-“How do you explain murder of a child based on this principle of duality, something the people you are fighting for seem to do often?” Martin was not convinced at the philosophy of The Fearless. He may be an ageless person with super powers but he cannot justify his actions by ranting about philosophy.

- “The regime, rebel and the foreign troops have all killed-men, women and children. People like you decided that only ISIS should be held responsible. You chose to assign right and wrong. You chose to ignore duality and play God!” The Fearless pours himself another cup of tea, “and one more thing.”

- Martin’s mind is racing now. He murmurs, “Please continue.” 

-“I do not fight for ISIS Mr. Reporter. They fight for me”, The Fearless replies is a flat tone.

- “What? Why?” Martin is visibly confused.

- “I am tired of hiding Mr. Reporter. I am tired of seeing the world destroy itself bit by bit. The only thing that does not satisfy the idea of duality is the idea of humankind. Humankind is the evil and I have decided to restore balance to the world”, the eyes of The Fearless glistened brighter, “ISIS is the beginning of the end. I will abolish the idea of right and wrong. There will only be aspects and no judgement. Humankind is too consumed in its own filth of superiority and ideas of morality and I will terminate them. I will establish duality.”

Martin is speechless. He gathers his wit and looks at the still flickering remains of the cupboard. “Why are you telling me this?”

The Fearless stands up and looks intently at Martin, “Because you will take my word to the world. Out of necessity, you will report this and everyone will know about ‘The Fearless’ and his plan. Everyone will rise against me and destruction will ensue. Self-preservation will trigger Self-destruction. Humankind will destroy itself and from its ashes will rise the uncontested form of duality. Existence in aspects and not in judgement.”

Martin tries to make sense of things, but how do you make sense of something that is so unreal. He stops the recording and plays it back. The whole conversation is there. The plan to destroy the world taped in his recorder. He blurts out, “What if I do not tell your story?” Martin has never felt so angry before. The Fearless might have superpowers but he will not make Martin do his bidding.

The Fearless smiles and snaps his fingers. Suddenly there is nothing where he was standing. The Fearless vanished into the air. Just a voice echoed in the room, “Then it will just take me a little longer Mr. Reporter, or shall I call you Martin?”