by Joe Vasicek
But he still isn’t free.
“My child,” Rumiya continued, “there is no choice without sacrifice. In order to obtain one thing, we must give up another.”
“But what if we don’t obtain what we choose?” Mira whispered.
“I never said that we would—only that the world we live in is inevitably the world of our own choosing. Put differently, you could say that life is the sum of our sacrifices.”
A sinking feeling grew in Mira’s stomach, and her breath came short and quick. The sum of our sacrifices. What had she sacrificed to be with Jalil? Her honor? But no, that was what had driven him away. If only I hadn’t obeyed Mother—
Realization struck her like a knife in the gut. Lord of Earth, she thought to herself, arms trembling as her vision blurred. Why didn’t I go with him?
“Is everything all right, my child? You look as pale as a ghost.”
Mira blinked and shook her head until her mind cleared. “It’s fine,” she said softly. “I’m—I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” She took a moment to compose herself, all too conscious of the growing crowd around her.
“What if we make the wrong choice?”
Master Rumiya’s face grew solemn, and he put a hand on her shoulder. “It is never too late,” he said. “Remember, the Truth is within you—though some things may be lost, you can always choose again. No prisoner is beyond redemption.”
How? she wondered, feeling twice as ashamed as before. How can I choose again, now that he’s gone?
* * * * *
The desert sun shone bright in Mira’s eyes, making her squint as she disembarked from the spaceplane. A warm wind blew over her face, and sweat began to form on her forehead. She pulled her headscarf a little tighter to shield herself from the desert heat and boarded the bus to the port.
Tin-roofed hangars lay scattered across the concrete launching pads of the New Amman spaceport, while the giant glass mountain of Aliet Dome loomed high on the horizon. Inside the terminal, dozens of desert tribesmen mingled in the crowded corridors, their flowing robes and checkered headscarves reminding Mira that she was not that far from home. Instead of comforting her, however, the thought made her hands shake.
“Mira!” came a familiar voice as she arrived at the baggage claim belt. She turned and saw Hamza, the Jabaliyn driver, shouldering his way through the crowd to greet her.
“A thousand welcomes,” he said as he took her carry-on bag from her. “How was your journey?”
Terrible.
“Long,” she admitted. “But God-willing, soon it will be over.”
“God-willing,” said Hamza, nodding in agreement. “Had enough of Babylon, eh?”
For some reason, his comment made Mira think of the wide oceans of Terra 2 Dome, stretching in all directions toward the nearly unbroken horizon. She remembered staring out across the water, the breeze in her hair, and found herself at a loss for words.
“Never mind,” he said. “Praise Allah, you are back.”
They retrieved her other bags and left the air-conditioned spaceport for the sun-baked desert. Though dozens of officials manned the busy desks and metal detectors guarding the way in, no lines or checkpoints obstructed the way out.
“That is as it should be,” Hamza muttered, as if reading her thoughts. “A man can only be free under the open sky.”
As they walked down the dusty concrete road toward the stone wall separating the spaceport from a wide parking lot full of caravaneers, two girls in black robes and headscarves came around the corner to meet them.
“Mira!” shouted Surayya, running towards her with open arms. “Praise Allah, you’re back!”
Mira smiled and laughed as her sister wrapped her arms around her and kissed her almost a dozen times on both cheeks. Mira returned the embrace.
“It’s so good to see you again, Surayya.”
“May the peace of Earth be upon you.” said the other girl. It was Tiera. She stood with folded arms, looking on from a distance. She wore her headscarf loose, with strands of hair blowing in the hot wind. Her face was unreadable.
“Hello, Tiera,” said Mira, embracing her half-sister. “It’s good to see you.”
“And you,” said Tiera, hugging her back a little stiffly. “You look like you’ve had a long journey.”
“And there’s plenty more of it left, girls,” said Hamza. “Better get a move on it—the sun won’t be up forever.”
“Thank Allah for that,” muttered Surayya, wiping her brow. “It’s so hot.”
“Yes,” said Mira. She’d forgotten how hot it could get in the desert.
While Hamza carried Mira’s bags toward the waiting caravaneer, Surayya hesitated and looked back toward the spaceport.
“Where’s Jalil?” she asked.
Mira’s cheeks blushed deep red. “He, ah, he’s not with me.”
“What do you mean?”
“She means he didn’t come back with her,” said Tiera. “Now let’s go.”
Surayya’s face instantly fell. “Good Lord—he didn’t—”
“It’s all right,” said Mira, giving her a fake smile.
“Let’s move, girls!” shouted Hamza. He was already in the driver’s seat of the waiting Jabaliyn caravaneer.
Surayya leaned in close. “That stupid man,” she hissed. “When we get the chance, you’ll have to tell me everything.”
Mira cringed. That was what she was afraid of.
* * * * *
They drove all that day and long into the twilight, until the light of dusk had completely faded and the stars and satellites shone brightly in the night sky. Hamza set up camp in a sandy niche between two giant boulders; from the tire tracks across the ground, the spot seemed to be a popular stopping point among the local tribesmen. Sheltered in their tent from the cold breeze of the desert night, the girls quickly fell asleep.
Except for Mira.
After laying there for almost an hour, she decided to get out and stretch her legs for a bit. Careful not to disrupt her sisters, she rose from her cot and slipped on her robes. She didn’t bother with the headscarf, however—the four of them were the only people for miles, and the steady snoring from the other tent told her that Hamza was already fast asleep.
Outside, the air was surprisingly chill. She folded her arms and walked barefoot across the sandy ground, still warm from the day’s sun. The sky was moonless, but the familiar stars and satellites shone bright enough to light her way. It had been too long since she had seen them—ages, it seemed. The last time had been the awful night with Jalil, when she’d—
No, she told herself, a host of destructive emotions swelling up again within her. Don’t think about that.
She walked some distance from the camp, to a slight rise about a hundred yards away. The surface there was a mixture of sand and crusty gravel that cut her feet, so she stopped and lay down, staring up at the night as her body absorbed the warmth radiating from the ground.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” came a voice from behind her.
Her heart skipped a beat, and she quickly sat up. It was only Tiera, though. Relieved, she caught her breath and clutched at her chest.
“Oh, Tiera,” she said. “You surprised me.”
Her half-sister shrugged and sat down across from her, hair tossing a bit in the chill night breeze.
“I don’t suppose you’ve seen the stars in a long time,” Tiera said simply.
“No,” said Mira. “I haven’t.”
An awkward silence fell between them. Mira shifted uncomfortably.
“How have things been back home?” she asked.
“Decent,” said Tiera. “Lena and Mazhar are fitting in well with the rest of the camp. Shira is trying to marry off Surayya. Nothing much has changed—nothing ever changes.”
Except that Jalil isn’t going to be there anymore.
“What are people saying about me?” Mira asked.
Tiera turned and looked her in the eye. “To be hone
st, there are a lot of rumors about you. The fact that Jalil isn’t coming back is only going to hurt you.”
An uncomfortable silence descended on them. Mira tensed a little, afraid of what Tiera wasn’t saying. She and Jalil had shared a close relationship—much closer than he and Mira ever had.
“I’m sorry,” Mira said abruptly, surprising them both.
“For what?” Tiera asked.
“For trying to—well, for coming between you,” she said. “I don’t know what went on between you and him, but—”
“‘Between’ us?” Tiera asked, frowning. “What do you mean?”
“Well, you always spent a lot of time together, and I thought that maybe—”
“That maybe we had feelings for each other?”
“Well, yeah.”
Tiera threw back her head and laughed. “You thought we had something romantic going on? That’s hilarious. Mira, Jalil is my brother. Nothing more.”
“Ah,” said Mira, relaxing considerably. “So you weren’t upset when I left for the temple with him.”
“Not because of any feelings for him, no. But yes, I wish I’d been the one to go—and frankly, if you had any feelings for him at all, I’m surprised that you didn’t leave with him.”
Mira cringed. I wish that I had.
“I don’t know,” she said softly. “I guess I hoped—”
“Hoped what?”
She swallowed. “Hoped that he would choose to stay.”
Tiera’s gaze turned harsh. Even in the darkness of the night, Mira could feel it.
“So that’s why you left,” said Tiera. “You wanted to seduce him, didn’t you?”
Mira hesitated. Guilt stabbed her.
“Yes,” she admitted.
For several moments, neither of them said anything. The wind whistled softly as it blew across the desert, the only sound breaking the hostile silence.
Tiera rose to her feet. “So the rumors are true,” she said, her voice low and full of contempt. “You manipulative little whore.”
Without another word, she walked back to the camp. A lump rose in Mira’s throat, but the tears would not come. Though she longed to cry, her eyes were as dry and empty as the lonely wastes around her.
Chapter 13
Jalil watched as Mark and Michelle both unbuckled their seat restraints and floated up to the ceiling. With her hair waving about like wisps of sand in the wind, Michelle looked like an otherworldly being. He tried to imagine what Mira would look like; her hair was almost three times as long.
“What are you waiting for?” Michelle asked, giving him a funny look. “Aren’t you coming with us?”
“Uh, sure,” said Jalil. He hesitated for a moment before unbuckling his seat restraints, but when he did, the once-heavy belts floated easily aside, as if they were made of air. A jolt of panic surged through him as he realized that he, too, was floating. Instinctively, he grabbed a handhold on the ceiling and steadied himself.
“Well, come on,” said Michelle. Behind her, Mark keyed the door; it opened with a hiss and a burst of cool air.
“Insulation still needs work,” he muttered. Michelle cursed under her breath.
Jalil took a deep breath and pushed off with his hands. Even with such a gentle thrust, however, he soon drifted off course. His feet caught in the row of seats ahead of him, and he banged his head on the wall.
“Ouch!” he said, rubbing his head as he floated back up. Michelle laughed.
“Don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of it.”
She led him through the first and second doorways, into another closet-like chamber. This one, however, had the second door embedded in the floor—or was it the ceiling? Without gravity to orient him, Jalil didn’t know.
Michelle grabbed a handhold in first doorway and spun herself around so that she was upside down, heading feet first through the hatch. Without batting an eye, she caught the railing of a ladder and pushed herself up.
Puzzled, Jalil pulled himself beneath the hatchway and looked up. To his surprise, Michelle was standing on the ceiling on the other side. Although she was upside down, her hair hung down by her shoulders as if she were on solid ground. She tilted her head back and looked down at him.
“This way,” she said. “Watch yourself—it’s a little tricky.”
Tricky? Jalil thought to himself, a little irked at her condescension. It’s not too tricky—I can do this. While she looked down at him from above, he kicked off from the floor and sped towards the open hatchway.
Michelle’s eyes widened, and she reached up with her hands as if to shield herself. “No, wait—whoa!”
As Jalil passed through the hatchway, an invisible force grabbed his body and pulled him up. Before he knew what was happening, he was falling straight towards her. She shrieked and ducked, but it was too late. They collapsed in a heap on the hard metal floor.
“Ow!” she said. “Take it easy!”
“Sorry,” said Jalil, blood rushing to his cheeks. His shoulder stung a little, but her body had softened the worst of the fall.
“Well, what have we here?” a boy’s voice said, clearly amused. A pair of hands lifted Jalil by the arm and pulled him to his feet.
“‘Chelle?” came a second voice. “Are you all right?”
Jalil glanced up to see a strikingly tall young man with wavy blond hair—blond hair, much like his own. Although he was clean-shaven, he had to be at least five years older; the look of concern on his face only added to that impression.
“I’m fine, Nash,” said Michelle, groaning a bit as he helped her to her feet. They embraced, but didn’t kiss on the cheek—a strange greeting, if that was all it was supposed to be.
“You all right?” the first voice said. Jalil looked over and saw a boy about his own age standing apart from the others. His mouth was curled up in a lopsided grin, and he had a friendly look in his eyes. Like Nash, his face was clean-shaven, and his dark hair was cut short.
“Yes. Thank you,” said Jalil.
“The name’s Lars,” said the boy, extending his hand. “Lars Stewart.”
“Gavin Farland,” said Jalil, taking it. “Is Michelle your—”
“Sister? Yep. Our dad’s the owner and captain.”
“So this is the new guy?” said Nash in a voice noticeably deeper that Lars’s. Jalil turned to him and bowed.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, apologizing profusely. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Don’t worry about it,” said Michelle. “Gavin, this is Nash. Nash, Gavin.”
“Welcome aboard,” said Nash, shaking Jalil’s hand. His grip was much firmer than Lars’s, and though he wasn’t unfriendly, he did not smile.
“Nash is our copilot,” Michelle continued. “He goes on when Dad takes his sleep shift. You’ll probably be bunkmates.”
“And cram the three of us in the same room?” Lars interjected. “Sheesh, it’ll be like the academy all over again.”
“Oh, so that’s why you dropped out,” said Michelle, putting her hands on her hips.
Lars shrugged. “Eh, classes were boring.”
“Lars is going on your sleep shift, ‘Chelle,” said Mark, entering the corridor from a doorway at the far end. “Nash and Jalil will go on the other.”
“Are you serious?” said Michelle. The tone of her voice made it abundantly clear she how annoyed she was.
“Three is too many for the bunkroom at one time,” said her father, “and it doesn’t make sense for us to start up a third sleep shift with only one crewman. Besides, I need to spend more time training Lars.”
“Why couldn’t we have picked up another girl?” Michelle muttered as she stormed off down the narrow corridor. Nash watched her for a moment before turning to face Jalil.
“Looks like we’re bunkmates,” he said. “Have you ever flown a starship before?”
“Uh, no,” said Jalil, thoroughly confused. “I used to drive buggies in the desert, but…” his voice trailed off.
Nash stare
d past him for an uncomfortable moment before answering. “Well, I’m fairly certain I can pilot the ship on my own. I hope you’re a fast learner, though.”
“Of course,” said Jalil. “I—”
But Nash had already left to follow Michelle.
“Here,” said Lars, putting a friendly hand on his shoulder. “Let me show you around the ship.”
“Good idea,” said Mark. “Stow his gear while you’re at it. We’re scheduled to jump out in a little under an hour.”
“Gotcha,” said Lars. With a nod, Mark slipped through a nearby hatch, leaving the two of them alone.
“Did I do something wrong?” Jalil asked. “With Michelle, I—”
“Don’t worry about it. Here, let me help you with that.”
Before Jalil could object, Lars picked up his bag and headed down the corridor.
“It’s a good thing you didn’t bring much stuff with you,” Lars said. “We don’t have many free compartments in the bunk room. There should be enough space for this, though.”
He palmed a keypad on the wall, and a narrow door hissed open. Jalil followed him inside. “This is the bunk room,” said Lars, dropping the bag on the floor.
The room was tiny: barely ten feet long, and so narrow that the two of them had to turn sideways in order to slip past each other. On the left, two bunks jutted out of the wall, while almost a dozen locker compartments took up most of the space on the right. The bunks had less than three feet of clearance in which to sleep, and barely enough room to stretch out.
“Who sleeps in this room?” Jalil asked.
“All of us.”
“All of you?” He looked around for another set of bunks, but the two on the left were the only ones visible.
“Well, not all at the same time,” said Lars. “You and Nash will take the first shift, me and ‘Chelle the second.”
“Michelle sleeps in here?”
“Of course! Where else would she?”
Jalil’s cheeks flushed red as he remembered the night with Mira from the spaceport. An awful sinking feeling welled up in his gut, and he opened his mouth to speak, but all he could do was stutter.
