Desert Stars (9 page)

As they approached the edge of town, a
number of caravaneers and sleek, open-air hovercraft passed them on
the road, kicking up dust and making her cough. Jalil noticed and
switched places with her, so that she was on the outside edge of
the road, away from the vehicles. It didn’t do much to help, but
Mira smiled in appreciation at the gesture.

Now that we’re not riding
in the back of a caravaneer, maybe he’ll start to notice me.
The thought lifted her spirits and made her heart
beat a little faster, even if the strangeness of the place filled
her with a deep yearning for her desert home.

“
So many people,” she said
softly as they passed a crowd waiting beside a stony field. Though
a few of them wore the robes of the deep desert, most of their
clothes were utterly unfamiliar to her; high black boots, dark
pants and colorful shirts, tan ponchos and strange looking hats.
Few if any of the women in the crowd wore headscarves, and the
sight of their uncovered hair made Mira tense, though what she was
afraid of she didn’t quite know. She took care to avoid meeting
anyone’s eyes as they passed.

“
Stay close,” said Jalil.
“I don’t want us to get separated.”

Mira was all too happy to
oblige.

Inside the town, the tall white
buildings cast long shadows that shrouded the ground in cool
darkness. The road, now paved with a strange black substance, was
only wide enough for two or three caravaneers to pass abreast, and
that only if the way was clear. With all the people walking back
and forth, the vehicles had to slow down or wait for them to
pass.

Mira tensed at the uncomfortable
closeness of the place, and she kept close to Jalil, careful not to
lose him. Although she wanted to slip her arm in his, she
hesitated, not sure if it would be too forward.

With each passing step, the road
became more and more crowded. Soon, she was bumping shoulders, more
people around her than she had ever seen in her life. The rumble of
hundreds of myriad conversations filled her ears, along with the
whine of the passing hovercraft. Up ahead, the road widened, and
the noise and bustle got significantly louder.

“
What’s that?” Mira
asked.

“
What?”

“
That,” she said louder,
pointing as she pressed against Jalil to keep from getting swept
away by the crowd.

“
That must be the town
center,” he answered, practically shouting over the noise. “It
looks like some kind of open-air market. A bit packed, isn’t
it?”

She nodded mutely.

He stopped and hefted both bags over
one shoulder, holding on with one hand. “Here,” he said, “better
take my hand so you don’t get lost.”

Mira slipped her hand into his,
interspersing her fingers and squeezing tightly as she followed him
into the busy market. The feel of his touch gave her a secret
thrill; she wondered if he felt it as well.

With the cool of the evening quickly
coming on, the marketplace bustled with activity. Merchants beneath
wide red awnings sold dates and almonds, plump juicy peaches and
plums, and watermelons almost as long as Mira’s arm. Others sold
exotic spices from giant burlap sacks, the contents piled into tall
cones of brilliant saffron, deep crimson, and a dozen other shades
of dazzling color. One particularly large booth sold computer
circuits and data chips, their green and blue boards contrasting
starkly with the dusty clay urns that held them. Local merchants
dressed in tan and white bartered with the traders in their high
boots and leather vests, while children in colorful clothes ran
about playing games beneath the feet of passersby.

“
Masha’allah,” Mira
whispered. She squeezed Jalil’s hand, and he squeezed
back.

A fountain bubbled with water in the
center of the square, with a large globe of polished granite in the
center. As they came closer, she made out a number of geographic
details carved in relief across it, with unfamiliar writing etched
in gold and copper. A little ways off, a tall, white clock tower
rose above the bustling mass of humanity, the topmost part shining
deep yellow in the light of the evening sun.

“
This is where Sarah
agreed to meet us,” said Jalil, letting go of Mira’s hand and
dropping their bags at the base of the fountain. A few beggars
huddled on the concrete steps a short distance from them, but the
crowd here was otherwise sparse.

“
Do you know what she
looks like?”

Jalil shook his head. “I hope she
recognizes us.”

Mira settled down on the lip of the
fountain and ran her fingers through the clear water. Hundreds of
sparkling coins shone up at her through the rippling surface, while
the spray felt pleasantly cool against her cheek.

When she looked up, a short
middle-aged woman in a maroon dress and white blouse approached
them from out of the crowd. With her narrow face, thin build, and
keen eyes, she looked a little like Amina. Though she wore a
red-and-white checkered bandana over her head, her long dark hair
spilling out over her shoulders, unencumbered by any
headscarf.

“
Jalil Ibn Sathi? Mira
Bint
Shira
?” the woman
asked.

“
That’s us,” said
Jalil.

“
Habibi!”

The woman threw her arms around him
and kissed him several times on each cheek. Jalil tensed a little
at first, but soon returned the greeting.

“
Welcome, welcome! I’m
your cousin, Sarah. We spoke this morning over the shortwave—and
you must be Mira.”

“
Yes,” said Mira, smiling
as she rose to embrace her distant cousin. After passing through so
many crowds of strangers, the presence of family felt wonderfully
reassuring, even if this was their first time meeting in
person.

“
What a beautiful young
woman you are! Your parents must have gotten it from my side of the
family. But come, what are we waiting for? Follow me.”

With that, Sarah grabbed one of the
bags and started off into the crowd. Before Mira knew what was
happening, she was holding Jalil’s hand again, struggling to keep
up as they followed her old cousin away from the marketplace, into
the narrow, winding streets of New Amman.

* * * * *

Jalil leaned back in his chair and
gazed out at the valley from where he sat on the roof of Sarah’s
white stone house. The last rays of the sun had already faded
behind them, and the beautifully clear twilight sky was fast
changing from yellow to orange to purple. The house was perched on
the edge of a cliff, giving them a magnificent view of the glass
mountain, only a few miles away. A stiff, cool breeze blew up
across the ridge, while behind them, the call to prayer sounded
from half a dozen worship halls, carried on the wind.

It was glorious—but still, it wasn’t
home.

“
I’m happy to hear that
old Sathi is doing so well,” said Sarah, taking her seat after
pouring Mira some tea. “I haven’t seen him for so long; it almost
feels like half a lifetime.”

“
Do you miss him?” Mira
asked.

“
Occasionally,” Sarah
admitted. “But I hear about him often enough, as well as the rest
of the family. It isn’t easy being a widow in this town, but Allah
has been good to me.”

Jalil nodded. Off to his right,
fireworks exploded over the white stone buildings, while the beat
of music carried softly on the wind.

“
Is there a wedding?” he
asked.

Sarah chuckled. “More than one; this
is the season for them, after all.”

Mira glanced from Sarah to Jalil and
blushed. He didn’t think much of it—she was that kind of girl,
after all.

“
Is every night like
this?”

“
But of course,” said
Sarah. She glanced down at his cup. “I’m sorry; can I get you some
more tea?”

“
Yes, thank you,” said
Jalil. He held out his cup as she filled it from her ornately
carved plasteel thermos; steam wafted up before dissipating in the
cool evening breeze.

“
Thank you so much for
letting us stay with you,” said Jalil. “We greatly appreciate your
hospitality.”

“
Certainly, certainly,”
said Sarah, nodding to them both. “It’s always good to hear from my
old cousins—and such a pleasure to meet their children! I’d heard
many things about you, Jalil, but I didn’t realize your hair was so
blond. Wherever did you come from?”

I don’t know,
Jalil thought to himself, resisting the urge to
finger his birth mother’s pendant.
That’s
what I want to find out.

“
From the stars,” he
offered instead. “My parents’ ship—my real parents’ ship—crashed in
the desert when I was just a boy. If it wasn’t for
Sathi—”

“
Yes, yes,” said Sarah in
her chatty voice. “I’m sure Zayne was overjoyed to have a son to
replace her Asi. Not to mention the old man’s happiness at having
an heir again. Can you believe it? Two wives and eight daughters?
Aie! What a blessed dilemma.”

The conversation soon turned to
lighter subjects, such as Lena’s recent marriage and other matters
of immediate interest to the Najmi family. The camp was doing very
well: several new merchants had negotiated routes through Najmi
lands, and with the newfound alliance with the Jabaliyn, they could
expect to benefit greatly from the increased trade. Yes, water was
as scarce as ever, but God-willing, the Faleh Basin site would be
ready for habitation within a year.

As the twilight sky turned from purple
to black, dim yellow lights began to shine from deep within the
glass mountain, casting a warm glow across the rocky valley. Sarah
served them a third round of tea, followed by a fourth. The breeze
grew cooler, while overhead, the stars and satellites shone like
jewels set on rich velvet.

“
So you’re both on the
pilgrimage to the Temple of a Thousand Suns,” said Sarah, leaning
back in her chair. “And such a young couple—it’s good to see that
old Sathi is finding husbands for his beautiful
daughters.”

Jalil shifted nervously. “Actually,
we’re not married.”

“
Oh?” Sarah perked up
immediately, her eyes gleaming with interest.

“
No,” he said. “I’m her
brother.”

“
Now don’t try to pull one
over on me,” said Sarah. “I might not have seen Sathi in ages, but
I’m not a fool.”

“
It’s true,” said Mira,
abruptly joining in. “He’s, well, as good as my
brother.”

“
Of course, of course,”
said Sarah, smiling meaningfully. “As good or better.”

Jalil didn’t know how to respond to
that, so he said nothing.

“
So now that you’re on the
pilgrimage,” Sarah continued, “how do you plan to get
there?”

“
I don’t know,” he said,
“but I’m sure that Allah will provide.”

“
Allah helps those who
help themselves,” Sarah said, shaking her head good-naturedly. “Do
you have enough money for a sub-orbital shuttle? Tickets run upward
of twenty-five hundred for a direct flight.”

Jalil lifted his bag and poured out
all of their cash datachips onto the coffee table. In a few
moments, he had them all counted.

“
Just over thirty-two
hundred,” he said, heart sinking. “That’s only enough for one
flight, isn’t it?”

Sarah nodded. “Sorry,
dear.”

“
Is there no way to earn
the difference?”

“
Well, you could always
try to hire yourself out as a day laborer,” said Sarah. “But I hear
work has been rather sparse these days; at the going rate, it’ll
probably take a good six months to earn enough for two
tickets.”

Jalil’s stomach fell. “Six
months?”

“
That’s right,
dear.”

I can’t sit around here
for six months,
Jalil thought to
himself.
I’ll go mad.

“
Is there anything else we
can do?” he asked.

“
Of course,” said Sarah.
“You could always try the overland route; I hear it’s not too
expensive, so long you stay at pilgrims’ hostels and travel by
night train.”

Jalil’s heart leaped in his chest. He
sat up in his chair and leaned forward.

“
How long does it
take?”

“
Not too long, though the
route is a bit complicated. You’ll have to pass through Aliet,
Raya, Terra 12—almost half a dozen domes. But it’ll only take a day
or two to pass through each one—that is, if your money doesn’t run
out.”

“
Great! When can we
start?”

“
I’m afraid it’s not that
easy,” she said. “Before you can go, you’ll have to get all your
documents in order.”

“
Documents?”

Sarah sighed and set her cup down next
to the pile of datachips. On the other side of the table, Mira
pulled her headscarf tighter against the chill night
air.

“
In order to pass through
the domes,” Sarah explained, “you’ll need special identifying
documents, as well as visas and travel permits.”