Pathspace: The Space of Paths

by Matthew Kennedy

  Kareef almost laughed. He knew that would have been disrespectful, but did Nizar really think that reciting the trained responses would bring him any nearer to certainty?

  But he had been asked, so he would answer. “The five pillars are the Shahadah, the Salat, the Zakat, the Sawm, and the Hajj. The Declaration of one God, the five-times-daily prayers, the giving to the poor, the fasting in Ramadan, and the Pilgrimage.”

  “And do you have doubts, questions, or disquieting thoughts about these?”

  “Yes I do. To begin with, how can any of us undertake the Hajj? Ever since the Fall, we have lost contact with other continents. We cannot walk to Mecca, so what meaning does the Hajj still have for us, if any?”

  Nizar regarded him from under graying bushy eyebrows for a moment, stroking his beard. “Do you think that is the only possible meaning of the Hajj?

  Kareef shifted on his cushion, suddenly uncomfortable. He didn't feel turning his doubts into an excuse for another lecture. “What do you think?”

  Nizar raised an eyebrow. “You could think of it as a spiritual quest. Forgive me for saying so, but I am sure Allah knows what we can and cannot do. He knows of the storms that raged when the weather satellites failed, and how the failure of the old technologies ended sea voyages.”

  “Then why should He expect the Hajj? Or do we maintain the thought of it out of mere tradition?

  “Has it occurred to you,” Nizar said, upon reflection, “that perhaps you could go on Hajj without crossing the ocean?

  Kareef tried not to frown. “Is this a riddle?”

  Nizar smiled. “No. From our book we know something of other societies, and in many other cultures there is the tradition of a spiritual quest. On the far continent of Australia, for example, the indigents call it 'going on Walkabout'.

  Kareef absorbed this. “And you think this it is some kind of universal coming-of-age thing? Is that why we still include the Hajj in the Five Pillars? To imitate other societies?”

  Nizar grew serious. “No, of course not. I was merely pointing out a parallel.”

  “And what about the Zakat, the giving of savings to the poor and needy? Am I, a poor student, supposed to give money I do not have? Or merely to feel guilty that I cannot?”

  “Allah knows who can give and who cannot.”

  And the Sawm, the fasting and self-control during Ramadan. The rest of the year it doesn't really apply, does it? To me, it appears that my own Islam rests on only two pillars, the Declaration and the Prayers. Is that enough? Even a chair or table needs at least three legs.”

  “These doubts you are having,” said Nizar, “do you think you are the first to think of them? They are a natural part of growing up in the world. Time and experience will answer them.”

  “But there's more,” Kareef said. “In my younger years when I learned of our country, it appeared that it had always existed. But that's not true, is it? From the books in the Library I have learned that the first settlers of this land from outside were not Muslim. Yet here we are. How did we come to be here, and why was the subject glossed over in our younger classes?”

  Now it was Nizar who shifted on his cushion. “It is true, what you say. The founding of the Emirates was not so long ago. But the details of it would disturb the young, and so we do not cover that until students are older. It is covered in the final year before graduation.”

  “But why? What details?” An uncomfortable thought occurred to him. “Is it because of bloodshed? Our history studies covered wars in the past. What's one more?”

  Nizar sighed. “I would rather wait until it was time to cover these things in class,” he said. “But since you are asking, I shall not hold back. The time of the Founding was a bloody one. The Faithful were not the first group to come to this continent, but come we did. When the Gifts of the Tourists failed and civilization fell, we were already here.”

  “But surely we were few among many.”

  “Yes,” said Nizar. “but in the unrest after nations fell, there were many such groups in America. Some were absorbed, but some were not. The great Melting Pot of America did not always melt us all together, once national unity was lost.”

  “That much is obvious from geography,” said Kareef. “But it does not explain how we hold so much territory, yet not all. Why have we not conquered the entire land from sea to sea? Does Allah no longer favor our warriors? Or have we grown complacent?”

  Nizar leaned back on his cushion. “There have been times, in our past,” he admitted, when Islam was an Empire that covered much of the known world.”

  “You mean, back before the spread of Christianity.”

  “Yes. I think you will find, if you look further into the books of the Library, that many religions go through a period of missionary zeal, a period in which it seems that followers are obligated to spread their faith by any means. Islam was no exception.”

  “Are you saying that we have decided the lessons of the past were wrong, and have settled down to become comfortable neighbors?”

  Nizar eyed him. “I am saying,” he said, finally, “that a mind is like a bag – it can only be filled when it is open. As we grow in wisdom, we see that Allah does not need us to be barbarian conquerors. There is evil to resist in the world, it cannot be denied. But the greater struggle is always within us. What is the point of seeking to convert strangers if we do not rule our own thoughts? And then there is the matter of tolerance. Before the coming of the extremists, Islam was known as a religion of tolerance.”

  Kareef frowned at this. “But aren't we too tolerant? We have Christians within our borders. If they came to outnumber the Faithful, would they not seek to change our government and way of life? Should they not be required to be as we are?”

  “That is not tolerance,” said the Mullah. “It would set a bad example, and make trade with other countries difficult. How can we be less accepting than those of the North? Have we smaller hearts than them?”

  “The people of New Israel?” Kareef was taken aback. “Are you saying we should imitate them?”

  Nizar nodded. “I am. Their government has elements of religion in it, and yet those descendants of Jacob have many Christians and even Muslims among them. They do not feel their faith is weakened by tolerance, or by the presence of differing faiths and opinions. And yet they are a people who have suffered many persecutions. In ages past, many Jews were killed by Christians and by Muslims. If they can see past ancient conflicts and open their country to all, can we do any less?”

  Here Kareef pursed his lips. “Perhaps they are not so much open-minded as more geographically fortunate. The area of the Desolation between them and the Emirates has the effect of limiting their visitors more than it does ours.”

  Nizar shook his head. “Do you truly think they are fortunate to have less farmland than us? “

  “They have more mines,” Kareef muttered.

  “Yes but you cannot eat ore, can you? Our population has expanded more rapidly than theirs, and the Desolation is only one reason fir it. We simply can support more people than they can.” He paused. “It was different, back in the times of the Ancients. Back then the cities of the North had millions of citizens.”

  Kareef's face spoke plainly of his doubt of this. “Millions? How would one feed a million people in a small place?”

  “You are forgetting the conveyances of the Ancients, their cars and trucks. Every day the equivalent of many caravans would come into a city such as new York. Their trucks and trains brought food, clothing, all the necessities of life, grown and manufactured elsewhere. Cities breathed them in as your body breathes in the air.”

  “But that's all gone now.”

  “Yes. Now they are much as we are, with much smaller cities and more farmers than city-dwellers.”

  “Still, said Kareef, unwilling to conceded the point, “they have more mines.”

  “Why does that bother you? The Emirates have survived quite well without a lot of metal. Our winters are milder, so we
don't need coal, either. The land gives us what we need.”

  “But what if we needed more weapons? The northerners are not the only people we might still have to fight.”

  Nizar was silent for a moment. “Unfortunately, you are right,” he said. “The news from the West is not good. The Lone Star Empire is apparently preparing for another period of expansion.”

  “Why?”

  Probably because much of the Honcho's Empire is desert. Without the irrigation systems of the Ancients, most of West Texas has reverted to dry sand again. Which means they have two options, go North or East. The country of Rado to their north has resisted their invasion attempts in the past. They might decide to try conquering to the East this time.”

  “Which puts us squarely in their path. But don't you see? That means we do need more weapons, top fight them off.”

  “Swords do not prevail against arrows,” the Mullah reminded him. “And there are reports that the Texans have uncovered a cache of ancient weapons, things like cannons on carts that can travel swiftly to battles. Against those, our finest horsemen and archers would be useless.”

  “I had not heard this,” said Kareef.

  “It is not common knowledge,” said Nizar. “And according to our operatives...”

  “Our spies, you mean.”

  “All right. According to our spies, the only reason he hasn't used his armored vehicles against us is he doesn't have the fuel for them. But the Honcho is resourceful. He may find a way to recreate the fuel he needs.”

  “Then we should seek alliances with his enemies.”

  “Now, finally, we reach my destination,” the Mullah said. “It is time to talk about your own Hajj, your own Quest..”

  Chapter 3

  Xander: Afterthoughts and Consequences

  “Success is not final, failure is not fatal; it is the courage to continue that counts.”

  – Winston Churchill

  He watched the workmen with little comment as they went about their tasks, readying dorm rooms and classrooms for his school. An observer might have noticed nothing in his expression. But his thoughts were elsewhere.

  “Why so somber, wizard?”

  He turned as Aria stepped out of the stairwell. “I would have thought you'd be happy,” she said. “Finally starting your school...and at the expense of my gardens.”

  “We've talked about this. You weren't using the floors below yours anyway.”

  Her chin jutted. “Well, I could have, if you hadn't gotten them first. We can always use more garden space. Unless you plan to take your students off to distant fields in the Summer, to teach them about herbs.”

  “I'm sure our students will appreciate your gardens, eventually,” he said. “But to have students, one must have a school.” He glanced sideways at her. “But what do you care? Aren't you going to be spending half of each year in Texas?”

  Aria's lips compressed, and he saw he had touched upon a sensitive area. “Having second thoughts?”

  “No,” she said. “I'm way past second thoughts about the engagement. I'm more on fourth and fifth thoughts now.”

  “Like what? Anything you want to talk about?”

  She watched a carpenter putting up a bookshelf before answering. “I feel like I've saved Rado by betraying it. How can I marry the ruler of Texas when I'm supposed to take over for my mother here?”

  “It will be complicated,” he agreed.

  “And that's just the start. What about the children? If we have a son, his people will want to raise it as the Runt, the next Texan heir. But what about Rado? Are we giving everything away to the Empire just to avoid war?”

  “I'm sure you will figure out what to do,” he said.

  “Are you even listening? These are not simple problems. Now that I think about it, I don't see how I can be the next Governor and at the same time be Jeffrey's Honchessa.”

  “If that's how you feel, then cancel the engagement.”

  She scowled. “You know I can't do that. Jeffrey's better than his father, but he won't last long as Honcho if he comes back with nothing to show for the invasion.”

  “I was wondering about that,” said Xander. “Why aren't you going back to Dallas with him?”

  “I can't. Not until I know this new alliance will hold. If there's a coup and he's replaced I could end up being just a hostage. I can't do that to Mother.”

  “No. So how long are you going to make him wait?”

  She sighed. “I don't know. Have you heard anything from Lester?”

  “Not since he left for Inverness. He must have reached his home town by now. I only hope he can find some potential students on his way back.”

  She changed the subject. “Why are you holding your hands in your pockets like that? Are you cold?”

  “No. I noticed that every time I wave my hand some worker stops what he's doing and asks what I need. But what I need is what they're already doing.”

  She exhaled. “Well, when you do have students, I hope you keep them down here and away from my greenhouses. It took us a long time to get them set up.”

  He smiled. “Look on the bright side. Someday you won't have to hunt me down when your glow-tubes need refreshing. If everything works out, you've have a whole school full of troubleshooters on the floors below you.”

  Aria tossed her head. “Just make sure they stay away until I need them,” she grumbled, and turned to leave.

  After she was gone he pulled his hands out of his pockets and gazed at the blisters again. There was no longer any doubt about it. He'd tuned those everflames way too high when he tossed a handful into one of the Honcho's tanks. In a hurry, and thinking only of doing the most damage in the confined space of the tank's interior, he had pushed the weaving of tonespace around the handful of coins to the limit.

  That hastiness had helped win the day. It had also earned him some second-degree burns. Radiation burns.

  He thrust the hands back into his pockets. For all my skills, he thought, I still cannot do anything about healing.

  He had read that one of the Gifts of the aliens had been something called a tissue regenerator. Like the other Gifts, it had caused upheaval and the collapse of competing human technologies. Antiseptics, antibiotics, and while sections of the health-care industry had been destroyed by it. Unfortunately, it used a property of space he was not familiar with.

  From the swizzle he had grown up with on the commune in Wyoming he had learned pathspace. The family's everflame had helped prepare him to learn the weaving of tonespace. And artifacts the General's men had located for him had helped the wizard learn how to handle spinspace.

  But the fabled tissue regenerator used still another component of space, one he had never learned. Too bad he had never found one.

  Chapter 4

  Carolyn: Curiouser and Curiouser

  “We cannot all succeed when half of us are held back.”

  – Malala Yousafzai

  She waited until her father came in from the smithy and sat down to dinner before she spoke. “What was Lester here for? What did he want”

  Jonathan reached for the salt. “Never you mind. You should be worrying more about what Burton wants.”

  She poured water into his glass and hers, then sat down. “Dad, I've already told you I don't want to marry Burton Tolbert. Why was Lester here? Does he need something for the Inn?”

  “Just some pipe. That's all. Pass the potatoes.”

  Why would Gerrold need pipe? “Is the inn doing that well, then, that Gerrold can afford pipe? I know it's not cheap.”

  “It's none of our business,” he said, mashing a potato and spooning his soup over it. “Besides, unless I'm wrong he'll be heading back up to Denver soon. If I were you I'd be forgetting about him.”

  He's hiding something, she decided. “What makes you so sure about that? Inverness is his home as much as it is ours. Why wouldn't he stay...especially with the holidays coming up?”

  “It looks to me,” her father said, “th
at Lester's found himself a government job up in Denver. He's got things to do up at the capital, I think.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “The gray cloak he's wearing. Seen one before, just like it. Fellow named...what was his name? Anyway, the last man I saw wearing something like that worked for the Governor.”

  She absorbed that in wonder. Lester, working for the Governor? Maybe stranger things had happened. Still there was something her father was not telling her, she was sure of it. “Are you finished for the day, or do you need me to work the bellows after dinner?”

  “No more work tonight,” he said. “You can get back to your sewing.”

  “Actually,” she said, as if it had just occurred to her,” If you don't need me I think I'll head over to the inn and see if Mary needs any spices. “

  He said nothing to this. What was there to be said? She was a grown woman, not a toddler to be kept in.

  “Don't forget your coat,” he said finally.

  There was definitely something on his mind. She had never seen him this quiet at dinner. Well, maybe for a while after her mother passed away. But not since then. Jonathan was always full of news and gossip. It wasn't like him to be so silent. Almost morose.

  Chapter 5

  Nathan: Strange Things

  העיניים שלך יראו דברים מוזרים

  “your eyes will see strange things” – Proverbs 23:33

  It took him a minute or so to notice that the coach had stopped. Frowning, he looked up from the book he was reading. “Why are we stopping?”

  His father leaned forward and shouted a question up to the driver.

  “Bit of a fight ahead on the road, sir. No idea what about.”

  His father sighed and shared a look with his wife.

  “You know you don't have to, Isaac,” she said.