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  CHAPTER TWO

  After detonation of the nuclear bombs and the complete dissolution of the United States, a tremendous power vacuum was created. That vacuum was filled by a fundamentalist Islamic sect that called themselves the Moqaddas Sirata, or the Holy Path.

  Initially those Americans who had survived the total collapse of the nation under Mehdi Ohmshidi welcomed the Moqaddas Sirata because they began to restore order across the country, punishing thieves and murderers. They also brought in fuel and food, and reestablished electricity, water, telephone service, and the Internet. They even put radio and television broadcasts back on the air. Schools were reopened, newspapers were printed. The American Islamic Republic of Enlightenment applied for membership in the United Nations, and though they were denied full membership, they were admitted on a nonvoting observer status. They were accorded membership in the OIC, the Organization of Islamic Cooperation.

  Muslimabad, formerly Washington, D.C.

  The governments of Iran, Iraq, Libya, Syria, Afghanistan, Lebanon, and Saudi Arabia received a message from Caliph Rafeek Syed demanding that they recognize the Greater Islamic Caliphate of Allah, with him as the Grand Caliph. Every government contacted acquiesced to the demand. What had been the United States, and was, for a while, the New World Collective, was renamed the American Islamic Republic of Enlightenment, and Mohammad Akbar Rahimi was made Minister of Culture for Moqaddas Sirata in the new country.

  Rahimi was an American, and had been born in Omaha, Nebraska, as Warren Church, the son of a school teacher and a union official. Before the collapse of the United States, Church had been a professor of Ethics and Diversity at Colorado State University. He first broke onto the national scene with his claim of being full-blooded Sioux Indian, using that to his advantage to secure a professorship. That claim was subsequently proven to be bogus, and his next appearance on the national stage was with the publication of an article entitled: Chickens Come Home to Roost: The Oppressed Push Back. It was about the September 11, 2001, attacks, in which he wrote:

  The attacks were entirely justified by America’s treatment of the Islamic nations. The absolute center of the US financial hegemony was located at the World Trade Center, and those who made their living working in the trade towers, mostly Jews, were little more than vampires, sucking the blood of the rest of the world. The 9/11 attacks by the martyrs were not only justified, but were the righteous acts of courage, and all nineteen martyrs are now in glory in paradise.

  Rahimi was sitting in his office, the Oval Office, in what used to be called the White House, but was now called the Palace of Peace. He looked up when his secretary stepped into the room.

  “Imam, President Mehdi Ohmshidi has been found, and brought here as you directed,” his secretary said.

  “He is president, only if I permit him to be president,” Rahimi said.

  “But of course, Imam.”

  “Allow him to enter.”

  It was a very nervous and frightened Mehdi Ohmshidi, the last freely elected president of the United States, who was brought into the Oval Office, at the bidding of Rahimi. Halfway between the door and the famous Resolute Desk, behind which Rahimi was sitting, Ohmshidi dropped down to his knees. He then bowed so low that his forehead touched the carpet. He extended his arms out before him, his hands palm down.

  “Oh, merciful one, I have come as you requested,” Ohmshidi said.

  “It wasn’t a request, Ohmshidi, it was an order.”

  “Yes, as you have ordered,” Ohmshidi said, his words muffled by the carpet, against which his forehead was still pressed.

  “You may rise.”

  Ohmshidi stood.

  “Do you wonder why I have sent for you?” Rahimi asked.

  “I do wonder, oh merciful one, and beg that if you have found fault with me, that you will show me mercy.”

  “You are the last connection between what this country is now, and what it once was.”

  “Yes,” Ohmshidi said.

  “There are those who will say that America ceased to exist because of your incompetent leadership.”

  “Imam, it was the detonation of the nuclear bombs that destroyed this country,” Ohmshidi defended. “I was bringing it into the way of the Holy Path.”

  “Yes. Be that as it may, this once powerful country was brought to its knees by you.”

  Ohmshidi bowed his head, not knowing what to say.

  “And for that, I say Allah be praised!” Rahimi said.

  Hearing the change in the tone of Rahimi’s voice, Ohmshidi looked toward him.

  “You are not displeased?”

  “Why should I be displeased, Ohmshidi? For many years, we of the United States occupied the lands of Islam in the holiest of places, plundering its riches, dictating to its rulers, humiliating its people, terrorizing its neighbors, and building military bases in Muslim lands from which to launch attacks against the neighboring Muslim peoples.

  “Those crimes and sins committed by misguided Americans were a clear declaration of war on God, his messenger, and Muslims. But, by your presidency, you brought death to millions of the infidel Americans, you depleted the nation of its power to wage war on Muslims, and today the once mighty nation lies prostrate before us.”

  “Yes, yes, that is so!” Ohmshidi said, getting into the spirit of things, now that he realized that he wasn’t going to be punished. “And, Imam, I did this thing to bring my people into the Holy Path.”

  “If you are prepared to subject yourself to the Moqaddas Sirata, I am prepared to allow you to resume your position as president of the American Islamic Republic of Enlightenment.”

  “Imam, it would be with gladness of heart that I serve Moqaddas Sirata in such a fashion.”

  “We have announced to the public that money will soon be printed and distributed. As it is now, all commerce is being done by barter. But soon, there will be money, and by controlling the money, we will control the people.” Rahimi said.

  “Yes, Imam, that is true.”

  “We will print bills in denominations of one, five, ten, twenty, fifty, and one hundred dollars.”

  “Imam, if I may make a suggestion?” Ohmshidi offered.

  “You may.”

  “Let us not call the currency dollars. It was dollars when the United States was a pariah to the world, and America derived their power from the dollar.”

  Rahimi nodded. “Yes, that is true,” he said. “Have you a suggestion?”

  “I do have a suggestion. I would call the currency Moqaddas.”

  Having made the proposal, Ohmshidi studied Rahimi’s face, ready to withdraw at the slightest suggestion of disapproval. To his surprised satisfaction, Rahimi smiled approvingly.

  “Yes,” he said. “Calling the currency holy is an excellent idea. And, I will instruct the engravers to put your picture on every bill.”

  “I am humbled, Imam, and I thank you.”

  “Now, as to police authority. The military and the police are no more.”

  “If you would allow it, Imam, I will reactivate the State Protective Service. They will act as a super police force, in control of all local and state police. They will also act as our military.”

  “I will allow this, Ohmshidi, only if every member of the SPS is sworn to the sacred duty of serving Allah through Moqaddas Sirata.”

  “They will be so sworn, Imam,” Ohmshidi said. “I will send them out to enforce the Holy Path, and to wreak destruction upon the Christian and Jew enemies of Islam.”

  Rahimi held up his finger. “Not just the Christians and Jews,” he said. “We must punish anyone who does not follow the Holy Path, and that includes other Muslims who do not see the way.”

  “Yes, Imam, this we will do.”

  “How quickly can the SPS be reactivated?”

  “By executive order, I will absorb all the police as an arm of the SPS, and since many cities have already reestablished their police force, that gives us an instant presence. I think that, within a month, we
will have a core group of SPS, enough to act in conjunction with the police. After that it will just be a matter of extending the SPS so that we also have a military. And there will be no difficulty in recruiting new members, for the SPS will be the most elite organization in the country.”

  “Who will you get to run such an organization?”

  “Reed Franken was the head of the SPS in the before time. I know where he is, and I believe he will be able to reactivate and greatly expand the SPS.”

  “Very well. Do so,” Rahimi ordered. Rahimi stood up, then took in the Resolute Desk with a wave of his hand. “Come, sit behind your desk.”

  “My desk, Imam? This is to be my desk?” Ohmshidi asked, gratified by the offer.

  “Yes. If you are to be the President of the American Islamic Republic of Enlightenment, and you shall be as long as you please me, then you should occupy this office and this desk.”

  “I thank you, Imam. From the bottom of my heart, I thank you.”

  As soon as Rahimi left, Ohmshidi sent for Reed Franken. Franken was a rather smallish man with eyes that seemed greatly enlarged by his glasses. When he came into the office, he was carrying a briefcase with him.

  “It is good to see you back where you should be,” Franken said. “The country has suffered greatly in your absence.”

  “Yes, but now we shall put it back together,” Ohmshidi said. “Are you prepared to help?”

  “Great Leader, I pledge my life to your service.”

  Ohmshidi nodded. “Good, good, that is good,” he said. “When you were called, you were told that I wanted to speak to you about the State Protective Service?”

  “Yes.” Franken held up the briefcase. “It was fortuitous that you would send for me, because I have spent the last few months drawing up plans for a new SPS.”

  “Let’s hear the plans,” Ohmshidi said.

  “I’ll begin with the uniforms. A sharp looking uniform instills pride in the unit, and intimidates the citizens. We will continue to wear the forest-green uniforms. But if we are going to build a military force from the SPS it will take a lot of men. I think we will need as many as one million uniforms.”

  Ohmshidi smiled and nodded. “That is not a problem, and it will provide jobs for the people,” he said.

  “There will be no beards among the members of the SPS.”

  Ohmshidi’s smile turned to a frown. “That cannot be. As Muslims, they must wear beards.”

  “Mr. President, if you will hear me out,” Franken said. “The Prophet Muhammad, peace be on him, had reasons for a beard, so that the followers be easily identified from among the clean-shaven apostates. But it is not mandatory in the Koran, and only the Koran’s laws are applicable at all times.”

  “But why would you not want your soldiers to wear beards?”

  “I believe that a Muslim who is a holy man, in dishdasha, taqiyah, and wearing a beard, presents the image of peace. But as soldiers of the Prophet we must, at all times, present an appearance, not of peace, but of war, an image that is frightening enough to command the fear and respect of those who are subject to our laws. An imposing uniform with its military accouterments, and a clean-shaven face, will do this.”

  “I see.”

  “I intend to have an inner cadre that will be the most elite unit of the SPS. The men of this unit will be selected on the principles of loyalty to you, Mr. President, and they must prove that they have no Jewish ancestry. Also, no one under six feet tall will be permitted in this inner elite core.”

  Ohmshidi made no reference to the fact that Franken was considerably under six feet tall. “Have you a name for this elite corps?”

  “We shall call them the Janissary Corps.”

  “Yes!” Ohmshidi said. “After the elite Turkish Guard that defeated the infidels at Constantinople! Janissary! Brilliant idea, Mr. Franken.”

  “Thank you, Great Leader.”

  “Tell me more about the Janissaries.”

  “Whereas the main body of the SPS will wear forest green uniforms, the Janissaries will wear black with silver lapel pins depicting a scimitar and a severed head. No member of the Janissary Corps can be married, for they will have but one loyalty, and that is to you. They must take an oath of loyalty and obedience unto death.”

  “Yes, yes, that is as it should be. But of course, as they are my special guards, I will have an equal loyalty to them,” Ohmshidi said. “Please, do continue.”

  “In order that the SPS be effective, it will be necessary for us to take over the administration of all police forces within the nation, city and state. Those organizations that we take over, and whom we deem worthy of the honor, will be incorporated within the SPS. Those who are not worthy to be incorporated will be dismissed. Those who refuse to be incorporated will be eliminated.

  “In addition, all legal jurisdiction will be taken away from civilian courts, and turned over to the SPS. I have written a mission statement which I would like to read, for your approval.”

  “Yes, by all means, read the mission statement.”

  Reed cleared his throat, then began to read aloud. “We, the State Protective Service, shall unremittingly fulfill our task: to establish the security of our Islamic Republic, to maintain the safety of our Great Leader, Mehdi Ohmshidi, and to establish peace and stability. We will be the enemy to all Jews, Christians, and Muslims who do not show obedience to Moqaddas Sirata. And, without pity, we shall put the merciless sword of punishment to the neck of such infidels, today, tomorrow, and for centuries to come.”

  “Very good, Franken. Or, shall I call you General Franken?”

  “With your permission, Great Leader, I would prefer the title of National Leader of the SPS.”

  “So be it. How soon can you put this organization together, National Leader?”

  “I have the core of those who were members of the SPS in the before time. Those men whose loyalty I feel I can trust will be quickly assembled. And, because service in the SPS is to be much desired, I think that the ranks will be filled very quickly.”

  “Very well, National Leader Franken. Put your plan into operation.”

  There began, after that, a gradual improvement in day-to-day living conditions, but not without some unwelcome changes. Television and radio broadcasts were reestablished, but they were nothing but nonstop propaganda for Moqaddas Sirata, words that, the first time they were heard, meant absolutely nothing to the average American.

  Every television and radio broadcast began with the same statement.

  All praise be to Allah, the merciful. Whomsoever Allah guides there is none to misguide, and whomsoever Allah misguides there is none to guide. You must live your life in accordance with the Moqaddas Sirata, the Holy Path. Those who do will be blessed. Those who do not will be damned.

  But these same television broadcasts brought the citizens of the American Islamic Republic of Enlightenment the welcome news that soon, a new currency would be issued.

  So that all may start equally, we will establish distribution points where everyone will be given enough money to provide yourself and your family with the basic necessities of life. This we do in praise to Allah the merciful.

  Less than a month after his meeting with Reed Franken, enough of the SPS had been reconstituted to make a show of strength in Muslimabad, and, once again, Ohmshidi was summoned by Rahimi. This time though, the meeting was not in the White House, but in what had once been the Harry S. Truman Federal Building, occupied by the Secretary of State. Mohammad Akbar Rahimi, the Minister of Culture for Moqaddas Sirata, now occupied the executive office suite on the fifth floor. In the “before time” the lobby of the executive office suite had been decorated with a mural by James McCreery, entitled Liberty or Death: Don’t Tread on Me. The work depicted the founding of America, featuring maps, cannons, rifles, and flags of the era. Now, however, all the historical icons had been painted over by a dull green, in keeping with the elimination of images; for there is a hadith which states that one should not leave a
picture without obliterating it. It was also a diminution of any history of what had been the United States.

  “You sent for me, Imam?” Ohmshidi asked when he was shown into Rahimi’s office.

  “Yes. In one hour you will give a television address to the nation.”

  “But, what shall I say?”

  “It has been written, and will appear on the teleprompter. All you have to do is read what it says.”

  “Where shall I give this speech?”

  “You are the president; you will speak from your office.”

  “Yes, Imam. Thank you, for your mercy and kindness.”

  One hour later, cameras were brought into the Oval Office, teleprompters were put up, and a voice-over intoned:

  All praise be to Allah, the merciful. Whomsoever Allah guides there is none to misguide, and whomsoever Allah misguides there is none to guide. You must live your life in accordance with the Moqaddas Sirata, the Holy Path. Those who do will be blessed. Those who do not will be damned.

  Ladies and Gentlemen, the President of the American Islamic Republic of Enlightenment, Mehdi Ohmshidi.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Firebase Freedom, Fort Morgan, Alabama

  “Look,” Julie said, pointing to the TV screen. “It’s President Ohmshidi.”

  “Ohmshidi? I thought that son of a bitch was dead,” Willie Stark said.

  The others who were present inside the fort at the moment gathered around the TV to see what Ohmshidi had to say.

  Ohmshidi’s appearance had changed drastically since he was first elected president of the United States. Now his hair was longer, he was wearing a beard, a dishdasha and a taqiyah. His desk was flanked, left and right, by two muscular and unsmiling men, both members of the elite Janissary Corps. They were wearing black uniforms with silver lapel pins of a scimitar and a severed head. Like the SPS, they wore the Ohmshidi “O” logo armbands around their left arms, and they stood at parade rest, staring unblinkingly straight ahead.