Authors: Joe Vasicek
Tags: #love, #adventure, #honor, #space opera, #galactic empire, #colonization, #second chances, #planetary romance, #desert planet, #far future
And the money? He fingered the
remaining three datachips in his pocket. God-willing, things would
work out somehow.
God-willing.
* * * * *
Mira stole a glance at Jalil from the
window seat of the night train. He sat with his head bowed over his
chest, his hand on the dimly lit tray table in front of him. His
fingers grasped the few datachips they’d managed to recover,
clutching them as if afraid someone would take them. After the
events of the last few hours, that possibility seemed all too
real.
She shuddered as the attack in the
alleyway played over and over in her mind’s eye. Heart pounding as
the men chased them through the narrow space. Hands clutching her
from behind, holding her captive. The leader, eying her with a
frightening look of perverse hunger as he unbuckled his belt. And
finally, Jalil scooping up the rifle and leveling it almost right
at her. She could still hear the sharp crack of the gunshot,
echoing in her ears even after the terrible moment had
passed.
It had all happened in such a blur.
She could only remember a few brief fragments; the rest was
blackness. Her mind must have blocked out the worst of it, which
was just as well. But more than anything, she remembered the look
on Jalil’s face as he picked up the rifle and made to shoot. She’d
never seen such determination in anyone before—such total
commitment, as if he would die if anything happened to
her.
He saved me,
she thought to herself as the gentle rumbling of
the train slowly lulled her back to sleep.
He said he’d protect me, and he really meant it.
But then she remembered the blood on
his hands, and the two bodies they’d left in the dirty alleyway.
Those men would be alive now if Jalil hadn’t killed them. He had
taken their lives without hesitation, as easily as if he were
slaughtering cattle.
He was a killer.
Yes, but he saved
me,
she tried to reason with
herself.
He only killed because he had
to.
Perhaps there was some truth in that;
but even if there was, it didn’t change the fact that the attack
had robbed them both of their innocence.
She glanced over at Jalil one last
time as sleep began to overtake her. He wasn’t the pure, young boy
she’d fallen in love with as a little girl; he was something
darker, something much more dangerous.
Strangely, she almost liked that even
more.
Chapter 7
Mira stood beside the massive stone
pillar and tried very hard to be invisible. The vaulted marble
ceiling of the train station rose nearly a hundred feet over her
head, but she still felt as if she were trapped inside a cave. Vast
crowds of strangely dressed people pressed in from all sides, and
several of them eyed her, especially the men in their strange,
black suits. Their stares made her feel as if she were naked—and
without her headscarf, perhaps she was.
Jalil argued with the agent behind the
window, his voice steadily growing louder and more agitated. Ever
since they’d crossed over the border into Raya Dome, it had been
like this: delay after delay. Mira didn’t mind so much, except that
with nothing to do and no one to speak with, she was left alone
with her troubled thoughts.
By Earth and all her stars, how she
longed to go home! Almost a month had passed since she’d seen her
mother or talked with her sisters. Never before had she been away
from them for so long. Without them, she felt as if she were
dying.
Make sure he
returns,
her mother’s voice hissed in her
mind.
Don’t come back without
him.
“
Let’s go,” said Jalil,
taking her by the hand and hefting their bags with his other. He
led her through the crowd across a polished stone floor so smooth
she could see her reflection in it.
She followed him silently, trying to
ignore the less than innocent glances from several of the men in
the concourse. Jalil, of course, was oblivious to all that. She
could tell that his conversation with the man behind the desk had
put him in a foul mood.
“
I don’t know how we’re
going to get through,” he muttered. “It’s going to cost us almost
everything we’ve got just for the next train.”
“
That’s not so bad,” she
said. “I’m sure we’ll make it.”
“
How? Without money, we
can’t go anywhere.”
“
Well… I’m sure Allah will
provide.”
“
God-willing,” Jalil
muttered, leading her into a long, vaulted passageway. Gates to the
various trains lined the walls on either side, with benches full of
people waiting to board them. Through the glass ceiling overhead,
the fading twilight sky was dark and starless.
“
So what will we do?” she
asked.
Jalil shrugged. “Go as far as we can.
One thing’s for certain; there’s no turning back.”
Three young men with slick
black hair and tight muscle shirts leaned against the nearest wall,
watching them. Mira cringed as she saw the hunger in their eyes,
remembering the men from the alleyway in Aliet Dome.
There is holiness within you,
she told herself, trying desperately to believe
it.
Lord of Earth, how she wanted to go
home.
* * * * *
Jalil paused briefly in the door of
the train, staring at the parallel rows of lights running down the
dark blue carpet. The place felt oddly familiar, like something out
of a dream. Perhaps it was the way he and Mira had to step sideways
through the narrow aisle, or perhaps it was the way the walls of
the cabin curved naturally into the ceiling and floor. It brought
back a memory of him staring out a window at a glowing blue
horizon, with the sky dark and starless overhead.
It’s almost as if this
isn’t a train,
he thought to himself as he
threw their bags into an overhead storage compartment.
More like… something from my childhood.
Something meant to travel in the sky, not on the
ground.
Mira took the window seat while he
took the one next to her, placing himself on the aisle, between her
and the other passengers—just as he had done in Aliet Dome. Raya
Dome had the same ban on the headscarf, and so it seemed only
prudent to take the same precautions.
“
According to the
schedule,” he told her, “we should reach the next station in just
under two hours. Are you hungry?”
“
Just a little,” she
mumbled, smiling weakly. If she was anywhere near as hungry as he
was, she must have been absolutely famished.
Her smile was surprisingly disarming,
especially with her long, dark hair falling over her shoulders. For
a moment, Jalil felt almost as if he were back in the living
quarters of the Najmi camp, surrounded by his adopted sisters as
they shared all the details of their lives with each other. Most of
the time, the conversations were frivolous—talk about which cousin
secretly liked who, which relative was about to have a baby, what
kind of a man they hoped to marry. Now that he’d been away from it
all for over a month, however, Jalil realized he missed it more
than he’d thought he would.
Mira turned and looked out the window.
“Oh wow!” she exclaimed, bringing Jalil back to the
present.
“
What is it?” he asked.
She pointed mutely out the window.
He squinted and leaned over her lap,
staring outside. In spite of the darkened sky, he could just make
out the black silhouettes of buildings, pocked with thousands of
lighted windows. They rose straight up from the ground, towering
almost out of sight. Between them danced hundreds of floating
lights like little glowing bugs. Those lights, he realized with a
shock, were actually flying cars. It was as unlike the desert as
anything he’d seen.
Before he could say anything, a
beeping noise interrupted his thoughts. He looked up and saw a
blinking light above their heads.
“
What’s that?” Mira
wondered, a look of fear on her face.
Across the aisle, Jalil saw the other
passengers pulling down straps across their shoulders from the tops
of their seats. An image from his memory flashed into his mind—a
row of people seated in front of myriad displays, strapping
themselves into their seats as explosions out the window lit the
spinning sky. Jalil trembled, though he wasn’t sure why.
“
Attention passengers,”
came an airy female voice from some unseen speaker over their
heads. “Please fasten your seat restraints, located on the top of
your chair. Pull both straps down over your shoulders to the clip
by your waist, and fasten the connecting harness across your
chest.”
“
What is she saying?” Mira
asked. Jalil shushed her and strained to listen.
“
For your safety, seat
restraints must be worn at all times while in transit,” the voice
continued. “In the unlikely case of an accident, your seatbacks may
be used as an emergency parachute. Simply press and hold the button
underneath your right armrest to disengage.”
Parachute? Why a
parachute?
“
What is she saying?” Mira
asked again.
“
Strap yourself in,” said
Jalil. “This could be dangerous.”
After playing with the restraints for
a while, he figured out how they worked and strapped himself in.
Mira, however, had some trouble. As leaned over to help her, a
terrible flashback popped into his head—his birth mother, putting
the locket around his neck before pushing him down the chute to the
escape pod. A lump rose in his throat, and his hands began to
shake.
“
What’s the matter?” Mira
asked, a look of concern on her face. “Are you all
right?”
“
I’m fine,” Jalil said,
hastily strapping her in.
“
On behalf of all of us,”
the voice said, “thank you for choosing Raya Skyways. We hope you
have a pleasant ride!”
Skyways?
Jalil wondered to himself.
I thought this was a train.
As if in answer, the train shuddered
and lurched. A low whining noise sounded through the walls, and an
invisible force pushed him flat against his seat. Next to him, Mira
cried out in terror, but across the aisle the passengers all seemed
unconcerned, as if nothing could be more natural.
Jalil gripped his armrests and leaned
back against his chair, turning to glance out the window. The
lights outside fell away, leaving nothing but the faded purple
twilight.
“
What do you see?” he
asked Mira. Her face was pale, but her eyes were glued to the
window.
“
I see—I see lights.
Buildings, or maybe mountains—no, buildings. But they’re falling
away—oh Lord, we must be more than a thousand feet up.”
“
Wait,” said Jalil,
tilting his head to get a better look. “Out there. What’s
that?”
Something was definitely moving up
there—and moving fast. It was hard to make out in the darkness, but
it seemed to fill the sky.
“
I don’t know,” said Mira.
“It looks like—latticework?”
The ceiling of the
dome,
Jalil realized.
We’re up against the inside wall of the glass
mountain.
No wonder the voice called it a
“skyway.”
“
I think I’m going to be
sick,” said Mira. Her breathing came in short gasps, and her face
was rapidly changing color.
“
Here,” Jalil said, taking
hold of her hand. “Close your eyes and try not to think about
anything. Nothing’s wrong; you’re perfectly safe. Take a deep
breath—in, out. In, out.”
She gripped his hand and breathed
deeply. The train soon leveled out, and her natural color returned
to her face. Still, she continued to hold onto his hand as if for
dear life.
As she gradually calmed down, Jalil
leaned over her and looked out the window. A curious sight met his
eyes; above, the sky turned to darkness, still obscured by the
thick glass of the dome. Out on the horizon, however, the lights of
the endless cityscape stretched out like a carpet made of
stars.
“
Masha’allah,” he
whispered.
Above them, a second train hurried by
on another rail, much like a satellite. With a little imagination,
he could almost believe he was flying upside down, with the ground
overhead and the sky below. It was beautiful.
Beautiful, yes,
he told himself,
but it
still isn’t home.
* * * * *
The skyway ended at the top of a giant
pylon that towered almost five miles above the cityscape below. A
dense fog had arisen beneath them, partially shrouding the city
lights, but the pylon rose out of the midst of it like a tower
reaching up to heaven.
Like the tower of
Bab-el,
Jalil thought to himself as he and
Mira rode an exterior elevator from the train station down to the
mid-levels, where food was supposed to be cheaper. Though it was
still night, the view of the endless cityscape was fantastic. The
tops of the highest towers poked up through the fog, while the
lights from below created an eerie reddish-yellow glow that
reflected faintly off of the glass ceiling above.