Scene: Central City, 22nd century America.
The ideas in this story are merely fictions of the future. They are not meant to cause offence to anyone, whether Jewish, Muslim, 'western', 'eastern', religious etc. Read with an open mind.
I posted Chapter 5 of this story on Literotica in 2007 under the title of 'Discovery Of The Real America', in which the lead character was named Saurus. I have since decided to make his name more Arabic by calling him Suhail so anyone who reads this to chapter 5 should be aware of this.
Chapter 1 contains a lot of imagined history, but further chapters are less historical or political and include more sexual themes. This story is from the same scenario as my 'Watching The Zabernians' mini series in which the character Jasper from Chapter 5 / Discovery Of The Real America is the lead character. My story '22nd Century West: Apple and Citrus' (Group Sex) is also from the same world/period scenario.
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From Istanbul Suhail flew to Rome, and then without stopping to America, the heartland of the modern West. His destination was Central City, in the heart of America, a sprawling conurbation. This was where he was to be posted. He felt very alone when he came out of the airport and into the city streets. He was to make contact with other Eastern representatives and intelligence gatherers in their motel, but as he had some hours before the meeting time he decided to walk a few blocks towards the heart of the city. Like Istanbul the architecture was impressive, but not as old. Unlike older American cities such as Chicago and NewYork, which had the historical reputation of being the earliest 'skyscraper cities', central City was made of more 22nd century styles, not so tall and more relaxed in design, as befitted an America which was reputedly no longer 'growing' in the economic sense. There were connecting corridors between many of the taller or larger buildings carrying tramlines and walkways. By comparison both Istanbul and Baghdad were flatter, but they both had their taller buildings to show off. Many Eastern Federation cities, particularly in the Far East were today far taller than American cities.
In Central City the tall buildings were interrupted by large swathes of central parkland. Between the buildings Suhail glimpsed one in the distance, made into a hill, the famous concert arena, for which tons of earth had been moved to make a hill, so they could sink an arena and make the area look more interesting.
Suhail had placed his baggage with a courier and sent it to the hotel. In the meantime he wandered in the city. It was busy. There was a marked concentration of population here despite the lower birth rates. The Americans sat at bars chatting, open to the hot summer sun, which seemed to find its way down to the ground level despite the 'scrapers' looming above. They walked along the streets, strolling, window shopping, stopping to pass the time of day with people they knew, or maybe with strangers. The mass market excesses of the 20th and 21st centuries had been reversed and people no longer lived to shop because they had nothing better to do. Nonetheless there remained many shops selling a wide variety of produce. Suhail had read widely about the West. He believed he probably knew far more about its history than many of its own citizens.
Suhail met his Eastern Federation compatriots in the bar of the hotel at the allotted time. He occupied a seat at the end of the bar, as had been arranged. His 'colleagues' arrived, two of them, both muslim easterners. The mission manager was named Sadar, from Iran, and Abdan, an operative was from Pakistan. Saurus had met Abdan before, on a training course in Baghdad, and judged him to be a good man, a true muslim in this selfish world. He had to look twice to recognise him, because he had shaved off his beard, presumably to fit in with the prevailing fashions in the West, so he would not appear conspicuous.
Abdan displayed no hesitation in recognising him walking confidently towards him and offering his hand, "Hello my friend. It is good to meet you again." He was as genuine as ever. "Let me introduce you to Sadar. He has been in America for a few years, so he is the expert! He has shown me much since I arrived." Abdan spoke Arabic, which was not his native tongue. All three would be competent in English, otherwise they would not be here. It appeared that Sadar too must be competent in Arabic, which was encouraged as one of the main International languages in the East.
Sadar came forward and offered his hand. He was a fairly small, but strikingly handsome man. He flashed a pleasant smile, which encouraged Suhail, and said, "It is good to meet you at last. We have been looking forward to your arrival. How are matters in the East? We have been here for so long we begin to forget how things are at home."
"The East has not changed at all, certainly not since Abdan came out," replied Suhail. I have been in Baghdad, studying the West and the opportunities I will have here to further the Eastern cause. How long have you been out here?"
"Five years on this visit, but I had been out here a couple of years before that. That is plenty of time to become used to life out here. I enjoy being here, very much," said Sadar, a friendly twinkle in his eye. Suhail had expected a slightly more businesslike approach from this man, who had been organising Eastern networks here for so long. Why did he like it here in the West so much? Nonetheless his friendly charm was welcoming.
"Five years is a long time to be out here! Have you not been back for breaks or instruction periods?"
"No. Well the Department did offer to give me some breaks, but I was enjoying the work I do out here too much," said Sadar.
"What about your wife and family?" asked Suhail. "Have you not seen them for so long?"
"I decided to bring them out here to visit me. Every year they come out for a few weeks. I thought it would be good for them to see the West for themselves, but I suppose it is time for me to see Iran again. It has been a long time and I do miss it a little."
Suhail could not help thinking there was something a little odd about this man's 'enjoyment' of the West. It was almost as if he preferred the West and wanted to corrupt his family with it also. There was something a little unguarded about him, which immediately disturbed him. He seemed not to be concerned with the impression he was giving. Suhail told himself he must not be quick to judge, and at any rate the man was certainly likeable. He had heard nothing about the man before, except his name. Abdan was his official contact and instructor.
"What programs have you in place at the moment?" asked Suhail. Sadar looked like an efficient sort so Suhail decided to impress him with vocabulary which matched their status.
"Programs? Ah programs, I see," said Sadar uncertainly at first, but growing in understanding as his mind cast itself back to training sessions in Tehran and the language of Eastern management practice.
Suhail assumed that Sadar must be used to using new words, perhaps Western style words. "Do we have any teams in place, or any indigenous organisations operating."