The Blind Bowman

Rami was manacled to a wall, in the prison courtyard, opposite the blind bowman.

It was not really a bowman, as some believed, but a mechanical device used by the caliphate to execute heretics and enemies of the state.

Essentially, it was a machine that drew and fired a bow.

At the heart of the machine was a timer, not very different from the ones people used to time the boiling of an egg.

As the timer ticked, with each passing minute, it would move the hook which held the bow string up a long series of notches; 26 notches in all, each notch drawing the bowstring a little tighter and when the hook reached the last notch it would retract rather like the claw of a cat, releasing the bowstring and firing the arrow.

The arrow, if the master executioner had set the aiming mechanism on the device correctly, would then be fired straight into the heart of the prisoner.

It was, hypothetically, a quick way to die, since any severe injury to the heart would create instantaneous and massive bleeding which, because the blood was needed to carry oxygen to the brain, would result in a prisoners immediate loss of consciousness.

That was, atleast, if the bowman had been aimed correctly.

Rami knew well how the bowman worked, having had invented it himself; a long time ago while still studying for his masters in engineering.

He had been a strong supporter of the caliphate then, believing that its extreme right wing religious government was the lesser of two evils, keeping out the left-wing communist factions that he fervently disapproved of.

Unfortunately,his life had not turned out as he had expected it to. He had met a young female medical student and fallen in love, then she had become pregnant with twins; a son and a daughter and they had decided that it would be better for the children if he gave up his dream of travelling the world and building bridges and instead become a science teacher.

And then his other great love; his love of science did the rest for he found he just couldn't teach his students the creationist doctrine that was written in the school text books. If he was going to be a science teacher, he thought; have to build bridges of the mind, then he wanted to be the best science teacher he could be and that meant teaching his students everything and to question everything they were taught.

Ofcourse, he had not told his wife what he was doing; he knew what she would have said.

"How can you even think of doing that when you have two little children. What will they do without a father?".

And it was only a matter of time before the authorities found out and, banging on his door in the middle of the night, he was arrested.

He had counted 13 clicks upon the machine, so far, he thought.

Although he could not be certain without looking at the device, how tight the bow had been drawn, the machine made a clicking noise each time the hook reached another notch and he had been trying to count them since the arrow was put in place and the countdown begun.

Thinking about the tightening string of the bow reminded him of the lecture he had given to his class about elastic potential energy.

Although he had not used a bow and arrow but a rubber band to demonstrate the principle.

"When the rubber band is stretched, potential energy is stored which, when the band is released will be converted into kinetic energy".

He smiled as he remembered how the demonstration had quickly degenerated into boys firing rubber bands at each other.

16 clicks, 10 more to go.

Perhaps, it was what he deserved, to be "hoisted by his own petard" as the English said.

Allah, destiny or chance; whatever it was that governed the lives of people, had given him great gifts; intelligence, skill and a father rich enough to pay for his university education but he had squandered those gifts.

What had he done with his talents, after all, besides making the horrendous machine that was now pointing at him; putting a cudgel in the hands of a brutal, oppressive regime; a way of killing usually innocent people and making others frightened to think and to speak freely.

A feeling of guilt rose up inside him releasing small tears that fell, with the force of gravity, down to his beard.

19 clicks

He'd always thought that he was an intelligent, rational person and that an intelligent, rational person could do no wrong but it seemed to him now that he had done so many wrong things within his life; taken the wrong course entirely and hurt people as a result of his choices.

He wished there was some way he could go back and make the right decisions; do the right things.

23 clicks

He thought of his two young children. They had a chance, even without a father, to do something better than him. Their mother would guide them in the right direction. She had always been a kinder, wiser, gentler person than him. They were his bridge. His hope.

24 clicks

From nearby he heard a commotion. Prison guards yelling to each other.

"The caliph has been shot", shouted one.

"Shot?", said the other in surprise.

"Rebels stormed the palace and shot him and his chief ministers and they've declared themselves the new government. All prisoners charged for heresy and political crimes are to be released", explained the first.

25 clicks

Why had he chosen to put 26 notches on the machine? Why not 27 or 28 or even 30. If he had only put 30 notches on the machine there might now be time to save him.

The arrow was fired.