This is the second story in the Lots of Vowels Series
The long road from Tehran, Iran to Baku, Azerbaijan stretches a thousand kilometers across the unremittingly barren deserts of western Asia, filled with ancient intrigue, treachery, mystery, and let’s be honest, just a lot of boredom and “are we there yet"s. Especially when you’re trying to survive a 12-hour bus ride with two Taliban fighters, a Ukrainian ex-dictator, a Chinese anthropology professor, and a cute Pallas’s cat who may or may not want to kill you.
Leiaou was a spunky anime girl from the Ryukyu Islands, with multiple bounties on her head from various governments, including Kazakhstan. It’s a long story. Basically, she knew too much about Kazakhstan’s plot to manipulate the FIFA World Cup bidding process, and the tyrannical Pallas’s cats covertly puppeting the Kazakh government knew she had to be silenced. Leiaou was doomed–Kazakhstan’s most feared assassin, a crafty Pallas’s cat named Zhandos, was hot on her heels.
After weeks on the run, Leiaou found herself in Tehran boarding a decrepit bus that looked older than the Islamic Republic of Iran, headed for the distant and thrilling city of Baku, Azerbaijan. She was filled with excitement and anticipation–all that laid before her were sunny days exploring new lands!
Little did Leiaou know that her journey was not going to be a fun little merry-go-round ride. On board were a colorful cast of characters: an ancient-looking bus driver who reminisced about the jolly days before the Soviet Union, two Taliban fighters cloaked in mystery, a Ukrainian ex-dictator in a slick suit, a Chinese chap who wanted to tape-record everyone’s languages for some research project, and… him!
Leiaou had a special talent of recognizing trouble when it crawled in front of her on four legs, and alarm sirens instantly blared inside her head upon stepping inside the bus. She saw right through Zhandos’s 10 layers of raincoats, which made him look like a hyperventilating nesting doll and probably hid a gnarly assortment of weapons for bringing about her end. Still, Leiaou pretended her doom wasn’t sitting right there at the back of the bus, and she proceeded with business as usual.
The boredom set in quickly. The Chinese anthropology professor soon began blabbering in an infinite loop about the fascinating languages of Azerbaijan. The Taliban fighters joked about how they’d become millionaires in Azerbaijan as they pulled out a poker set. The Ukrainian joined in the game and bet his expensive custom-tailored suit. The bus driver even started singing about the vibrant natural landscapes of Azerbaijan in a soothingly sandpaper voice.
Unfortunately, Azerbaijan simply does not exist.
You think I’m wrong? Have you ever heard of Azerbaijan?
If you said yes, please stop lying.
Obviously, the only correct answer is no. Who has? In reality, “Azerbaijan” is actually just a fiction concocted by Kazakhstan to rig the FIFA World Cup bidding process in their favor. After all, what’s more evil than manufacturing your very own imaginary sovereign state out of thin air to win more votes?
Now you know the truth.
Azerbaijan simply does not exist.
Zhandos was also readily aware of the truth. He had no doubt that “Azerbaijan” was a nothing more than Kazakhstan’s brilliant Pallas’s cats gaslighting the entire world. Genius! A masterclass in gaslighting! He patiently unpacked a blender with razor-sharp blades from his second outermost raincoat, and plugged it into one of the bus’s power outlets. Instantly, the bus’s already-sluggish speed halved, and everyone stared at the driver, who stared at the road, because he was a responsible driver. Guiltily, Zhandos unplugged the blender.
The black hole that was the poker game had now engulfed Leiaou and the Chinese anthropology professor and even Zhandos. The thrill! The Taliban bros were losing left and right of what was left of their money, but everyone was having tons of fun, which we all know is what matters. This round, the flop was all aces. Leiaou had the final ace, the Ace of Spades, and bet all her chips. One of the Taliban fighters accused her of bluffing and bet his entire arm. The other Taliban dude bet both his arms. Zhandos bet all of his raincoats (including a blender!). The anthropology professor bet all the languages in Azerbaijan. The Ukrainian bet the entire country of Azerbaijan.
The fourth dealt card was a King of Hearts and the fifth a Queen of Hearts, and after a final round of everyone accusing everyone else of bluffing and/or not being able to fulfill their bets, the suspense crescendoed with everyone revealing their cards. Zhandos had the Jack and 10 of Hearts–a Royal Flush!–and the entire bus erupted into chaos. The bus driver reminded everyone to stay calm and civil so he could focus on the road.
Zhandos had now won “Azerbaijan” (and some other stuff), and he didn’t quite know what to do. After all, “Azerbaijan” didn’t even exist! But how could all the other passengers be so naive and ignorant about the truth of their destination? Oh right, the whole point of this “Azerbaijan” nonsense is so that everyone mistakenly thinks it exists! But if everyone thinks “Azerbaijan” exists, then does it exist? Screw this philosophy nonsense, Zhandos was here to have some fun killing people, not ponder the intricacies of epistemology. With that, he gingerly extracted a poison-tipped rod of uncooked spaghetti from his third outermost raincoat, and pointed the murder weapon straight at Leiaou.
If it weren’t for the Chinese anthropology professor, Leiaou would have been dead meat. The spaghetti instantly piqued the interest of the professor, who began incessantly questioning Zhandos about the cuisine of Azerbaijan, to the point where Zhandos really just wanted to stab the professor in the liver and eat it. Actually, not the second part. But that would blow his cover, and Zhandos knew he couldn’t let Leiaou find out he was also on the bus. After all, Leiaou looked so relaxed and casual–there was no way she’d be like that if she recognized Zhandos, right?
The bus driver announced to everyone that they would only need to hold their bladders for another half hour and they’d be at Baku, Azerbaijan, and Zhandos had to act fast. But the doubt! It began as just a slight itch deep inside the back of his brain, but it spread virally, like a cringy internet meme. What if “Azerbaijan” really did exist? And even if it didn’t really exist, did the fact that everyone believed it exists imply that it did exist? Did this even matter? Does the “Azerbaijani” government want to arrest me? Does the “Azerbaijani” government know that I am inside “Azerbaijan” right now? Am I having a panic attack? Can a fictional government arrest a real person? Can a collectively hallucinated government arrest a person? What is it like to be arrested by a fictional government? What is the inside of a fictional prison like? What kind of fictional food do they have inside fictional prisons?
No. “Azerbaijan” simply does not exist and never did exist.
But what if it does? Thoughts of “Azerbaijani” police and soldiers arresting Zhandos and throwing him inside a prison where the only food option is mayonnaise-flavored ice cream overwhelmed Zhandos’s brain. No! No!
He glanced outside the bus window, dazed. Sand. Wildgrass. Dust. Plains. Endless plains. Wind. Well, he couldn’t actually see the wind, so he wasn’t sure if the wind existed, even though the grass was swaying.
Suddenly, sand made way to concrete, and an entire city rose out of the desert. They were here! “Baku”, capital of “Azerbaijan”. The passengers all shuffled off the bus, and that’s when the shock hit them.
Azerbaijan simply does not exist.
“Baku” was just a giant cluttered heap of old scraps and outdated tech collected over years in some kind of bizarre Soviet-style scrapyard project gone wrong. A few exhausted locals walked by, chatting in Kazakh. The evidence was there, right there in front of their faces. Azerbaijan simply does not exist.
Zhandos’s philosophical crisis evaporated instantly. So he was right all along! Azerbaijan really didn’t exist! Hooray! Now all he had to do was murder Leiaou–two Kazakh agents suddenly apprehended Zhandos and told him he was under arrest for failing to assassinate Leiaou and betraying the great nation of Kazakhstan! Hip, hip, hooray!
“I’m sorry! Don’t take me to prison!” Zhandos shrieked, so the Kazakh agents prepared to stuff a dead frog into his throat to silence his screaming. Zhandos managed to squeeze in one final yelp, “And please don’t only serve me mayonnaise-flavored ice cream in prison!”
And as for our plucky heroine Leiaou? She slyly slipped away from all this chaos, off to another adventure elsewhere–leaving behind nothing but fond memories of that dusty rode heading north towards a mythical land known only as… Azerbaijan.