Fadeela’s body, which had been rigid and trembling, relaxed into Reg’s arms. A moment later, she opened her eyes and looked up at him. When she realized what had happened, she tried to smile but ended up crying. Sutton was the first one to reach them.
“You need to get her out of here,” he said. “We’ll destroy the rest of these egg sacs and meet you out on the road.”
Reg nodded gratefully and carried Fadeela out of the trees.
*
After carrying her out to the trees, Reg had set Fadeela down near the edge of the road and rocked her in his arms while she cried. The encounter with the alien hadn’t done her any lasting physical damage, but she was badly shaken. Between sobs, she tried to explain the fierce, overwhelming malice she’d felt from the alien mind.
“I never imagined there could be such a hatred,” she said. “They only want one thing. They want us dead and out of their way.” Her eyes had widened as she came to the dread realization of how focused the aliens were on annihilating the human race. When a fresh tear had run down her cheek, he reached out to catch it on his finger. He had only been attempting to comfort her when he leaned down and whispered to her, “I know, I know,” he’d said, “but you’re going to be all right now. I’ll see to that.”
As soon as those words had left his mouth, Fadeela changed. Her body began to stiffen, and she pulled away from him.” I can take care of myself. Take your hands off of me and get away.”
It had been nearly an hour since then, and they hadn’t spoken a word to each other since. They rode in the back of the truck along with Sutton, Remi, and Tye. All five of them sat facing in separate directions, lost in their private ruminations. They had managed to avoid being killed thus far, but they were beginning to think it was only temporary. Although they tried not to, they couldn’t help sniffing at the air every now and again, wondering if they’d be able to tell when the deadly pathogens would surround them, let loose from the vials the aliens had stolen.
Eventually, Ali slowed the truck, pulled off the road, and parked behind a stand of tall brush that would hide them from any passing vehicles. They had come within a mile of the turnoff to Dawqah, the road that led to Faisal’s hiding place in the mountains. Dried twigs and branches were strewn around on the ground, and everyone wanted to build a fire, but it was too dangerous. The flames might be spotted by a roving band of alien chariots. Or they might attract soldiers with orders to kill Reg.
A brief meeting was held at the tailgate of the truck, during which two goals were agreed upon. First, someone had to go to Faisal’s camp and make sure he understood that attacking the downed destroyer meant exposing the entire country to anthrax and ebola contagion. Second, Reg and Ali had to leave the country as soon as possible. The team would have to split up, something none of them wanted.
“I’ll go up there and speak to Faisal. I’m the logical choice,” Edward said. Remi and Yossi volunteered to go with him.
“He’ll be surprised to see me again,” Yossi said. “We’ll be able to convince him.”
Ali endorsed the plan and began working out some of the particulars, when Fadeela broke her silence and made an announcement.
“No,” Fadeela said. “I am the one who must go to speak with Faisal. The rest of you will put yourselves in grave danger by showing your faces there. You probably wouldn’t be able to get close to him. But I am certain I can convince him. I will make him listen.”
“The woman is right,” Ali said. “Edward can drive her. Is everyone agreed?”
“I will go alone,” Fadeela said. “You can drive me to the turnoff, and we will find someone who is driving to the camp. I will go with them while the rest of you escape.”
Reg was about to raise an objection when Fadeela shot him a determined look. Obviously, she had made up her mind to go.
“No, no objections,” he said.
“Fine,” Ali announced. “We will rest for half an hour and then set out.”
Reg wandered away from the others and found a place to sit where he could watch the highway. Every few minutes, a lone truck or a fleet of jeeps would rumble past. After a few minutes, Fadeela walked over and stood near him. She looked at Reg in the dim light of the moon and smiled.
“I’m glad to see you’re feeling better,” he told her.
“Actually, I’m worse, but thank you. I came to say goodbye, and to apologize for the way I spoke to you before.”
“Totally unnecessary,” he said, hanging his head. When Fadeela laughed out loud, Reg looked up, wondering why.
“You’re acting like a wounded puppy. I don’t think you understand why I was upset, and before I leave I wanted you to know why.”
“I’m all ears, princess,” Reg said, looking at her expectantly. The moment the nickname princess had come out of his mouth, he regretted using it. He called her that only because he was feeling betrayed by her decision to go to Faisal’s camp. It made sense that she should be the one to go, but he couldn’t help feeling that she was somehow choosing Faisal over him.
“My wish is to be attacked by another alien,” she said.
“Huh?”
“Yes. I hope it happens again, because the next time, I will be stronger. I am going to control it, just as you did in the oasis. I think I understand now what you meant about being able to resist them.”
Reg scowled at this ludicrous idea. “I, for one, hope you don’t run across any more of them. I hope none of us do.”
“You don’t think I’ll be able to resist? You think I’m too weak?”
“Not at all.”
“Yes, you do. You said it just now. You called me princess again.”
“Look, I don’t really think you’re a princess. I was just… I’m sorry I said that. You’ve been fighting like a banshee all day, and you deserve some credit.”
“What is a banshee?”
“A jinn. You’ve been fighting like a jinn. You saved Edward and Remi’s lives at that petrol station this afternoon. That whole wall would have collapsed if you hadn’t worked that trick with the medallion. You bought them the time they needed to stay alive.”
“But as you point out, it was only a trick. Now that I understand what the enemy is, I know that tricks are not enough. I want to be taken seriously. I don’t want to be treated like a helpless little girl.” She imitated the way Reg had spoken to her earlier:
“‘It’s going to be all right. I’ll take care of you. Don’t worry.’ I want to be like that Jewish woman. What was her name?”
“Miriyam.”
“Yes, Miriyam. She was useful. She was a real soldier. Let me ask you something about her. Did you like her?”
“Yes, I did. She was a brave woman.”
“As I suspected. And what about me, do you like me?”
Reg looked up at her, surprised by the question. “Yes,” he said after a moment. “I like you very much.”
“Why?”
“Why do I like you?”
“Yes, why?”
“There are lots of reasons,” he said vaguely. But after thinking it over for a moment, he decided on an answer. “I like that you hate being called a princess. I like your bravery and the fact that you want to be braver still. Most of all, I like that you haven’t given up.”
Fadeela smiled broadly. “An excellent answer,” she said, “a very correct answer. I have not given up. In fact, I have an idea to discuss with you. It’s a plan that may strike you as too bold, but I’ve been thinking about—”
“Whoa! Hold on.” Reg held up his hands. “Turnabout is fair play. What about me?
“What about you?”
“I think you’re attracted to me. I think you like me,” Reg said, going out on a limb. “Am I right?”
Fadeela grimaced and looked impatient. “Of course I’m attracted to you. You’re handsome, brave, intelligent, moderately well educated, young, strong, and a good listener. I’ve practically been throwing myself at you since the moment we met, but right now I have something
more important to discuss with you. May I go on?”
“Please do.”
“I’ve come up with a plan, and I want you to tell me what you think of it. What time is it now?”
He checked his watch. “Quarter to one.”
“That leaves only a few hours until morning. If the aliens are planning to use the germ weapons they took today, won’t they do so early in the morning?”
“I don’t know. That scientist we met seemed to think that would be the best time. The most lethal time.”
“After the hate I felt coming from the alien that attacked me, I would expect them to try and maximize the killing power. We have to go to their ship and find those weapons before they can be used.”
Reg thought she was joking, but quickly realized she was completely serious. “That’s madness. We can’t waltz in there, grab the stuff, and run.”
“Why not?”
“Well, there must be a thousand reasons, but the main one is that they’d kill us before we got inside. Secondly, if we did manage to make it inside, they’d kill us there. And don’t forget, we don’t know the canisters are inside the ship. That’s nothing but a hunch. But let’s say they are inside. You must have noticed that the ship is a rather large place. We could wander around in there for weeks without finding what we were looking for. Furthermore, if we show up and start shooting, what’s to prevent them from using the weapons immediately? I could go on and on, but I hope that gives you the idea.”
“We have to try,” she said, then began to address his concerns one by one. “We have proven we can fight against them. If we move quickly, we can break past them and get inside. The germ canisters must be inside the ship, since they have nowhere else to go. We will find them in the black tower because these are important weapons and they would be taken to the control center of the ship. Since we are a small group, we will rely on stealth more than on our guns. If we move quietly and strike quickly, we can find the weapons before they are used. I think it’s worth a try.”
“You left out something important. Once we’ve rushed in there and gathered up enough poison to wipe out the entire planet, how do we get out again without releasing it into the atmosphere?”
“I leave that part to you. A chance to prove yourself.” She smiled.
“Utter madness. As bad as the American plan to bring down the shields,” he said, shaking his head. But Fadeela could see that he was thinking it over, walking through it step by step. And the longer he thought about it, the more he became convinced that it had a chance—an infinitesimally tiny chance—of actually working.
“It would take an incredible amount of good luck, and we wouldn’t be able to do it alone. But I admit that in theory, at least, it could work if we had help from someone with an army at his personal disposal. Someone like Faisal. Without him, there’s no way.” As far as Reg was concerned, the question was closed. Fadeela took an oblique approach to opening it again.
“Reg,” she said quietly. “Your pain is showing again. Your fear. If there is ever to be a future for us, you must tell me. What happened to you during the Gulf War?”
He felt the doors to his heart start to slam closed inside his chest, but managed to keep them ajar long enough to ask, “Your brother never told you?”
“I know there was an accident. But I want you to tell me. Please. I think it is relevant.”
He didn’t see how it could be, but trusted her enough to go on. Once he started talking, he realized that despite having thought about it every single day, he hadn’t talked about it out loud for a long time. “Not much to tell really. I was flying a bombing run out of Dhahran. It was the second day of the war. We’d been out the day before and had some good success. Hit most of our targets without losing anyone, so we were all feeling good. Confident. Especially my group. We were more than confident. We were so damned cocky we were getting reprimanded right and left by our superiors. I remember that before we went up that morning, there was a briefing session where they showed us photographs with the latest target information. You know, hit this building, don’t hit that one, watch out for antiaircraft positions at points X, Y, and Z. And I’m sorry to say that I hardly paid any attention. I was just so anxious to get on with it.
“When we came in over Baghdad, their guns started pumping more flak into the air than I thought possible. It was an incredible fireworks show. I was certain our group leader was going to turn back, but he didn’t. He set us loose, and we flew right into the middle of the firestorm. This might sound childish, but once I was over the city, I felt like I was playing a video game. I was dodging shells like mad and hunting down my targets at the same time. I didn’t care how dangerous it was. Back in those days, I thought I was immortal, and nothing could scare me. I was having fun. And getting the job done. I hit a warehouse next to some railroad tracks, then an electrical station. Then, as I was making a turn, I saw a building I recognized from the briefing session. It wasn’t on my list, but there it was right in front of me, so I said why not and dropped one of my smart bombs. I can still see it as if it were yesterday. It was a reddish brown round building and my bomb hit the bull’s-eye. Went through the roof exactly in the center. I was pretty proud of that shot, especially since I hadn’t even taken any time to line it up.
“I didn’t realize there was a problem until I landed. The reason they’d showed us the picture of the round building was to tell us not to hit it. That previous intelligence had been updated. It was a college gymnasium that was being used to house the people who’d been bombed out of their houses. And I’d had a merry old time killing and injuring them. The final toll was somewhere around a hundred and eighty people.
“A few years later I came back to teach air combat to young Arab hotshots like your brother. You can believe I make sure they learn to do things carefully. I’m the RAF’s poster boy in the fight against carelessness.” He looked over a Fadeela. Her expression hadn’t changed at all. “Does that answer your question?”
She spoke quietly. “You feel guilty, and you’ve come back to our country to redeem yourself.”
Reg shrugged.
“Then, Reg, this is your chance. When you were over Baghdad, you were playing a game, and you killed a hundred and eighty nameless, faceless Arabs. I think you’re different now. You understand that we Arabs aren’t merely pieces moving across your game board. You can never bring those Iraqi people back to life, but you can save others. Millions of others.”
He knew she was right. The plan she’d outlined was dangerous to the point of absurdity, but he had to give it a try. He owed the families of his Iraqi victims at least that much. And even if he’d never made that horrible mistake, he would have gone through with the plan for the sake of the woman sitting next to him. Remembering something important, he suddenly sprang to his feet.
“What is it?” Fadeela asked.
“The other day Faisal said something to Yossi and Miriyam. He said that even though they were Jewish, and he didn’t like them, they had the right to stay with him for three days. Was he just making that up?”
“Not at all. It is a very old tradition of ours. If a stranger enters your camp, you must offer him comfort for three days.”
“You think Faisal would honor the custom if he saw me?” Fadeela thought for a minute. “If there are others around him, witnesses, then he would have no choice.” Reg stood up and looked around. He spotted Ali standing near the truck and started walking toward him.
“Where are you going?” Fadeela asked him.
“I’m going to pay your fiancé a visit. But I’ll need that uniform you’re wearing before I go.”
13
TO THE CAMP
“He’s a dead man,” Sutton droned, as Reg and Fadeela climbed into the rear area of the battered truck.
Yossi reluctantly agreed. “Faisal’s going to kill him the minute he shows his face.”
“If he gets that far,” Tye chimed in.
When Reg had explained that he was going to dis
guise himself and sneak into the army’s camp in the hills, they had tried to talk him out of it. But Reg wanted to do more than merely warn against bombarding the ship while there were bioweapons inside. He also wanted to enlist Faisal’s help. Without it, they would have no chance of pulling off Fadeela’s plan.
“I’ll see you all in a couple of hours,” Reg said, as Ali slipped behind the wheel and started the engine. “Then we’ll have some real fun.”
“We’ll be here waiting for you. Be careful,” the others called back, waving and smiling as if they were optimistic about his chances. Faisal seemed to get whatever he wanted from his troops, and at that point he wanted Reg Cummins’s head. Under those circumstances, visiting his camp armed with nothing more substantial to protect himself than some ancient Bedouin custom seemed, at best, recklessly dangerous.
“See you soon,” Sutton called, as the truck drove away. “In the next life, that is.”
Driving with the headlights off, Ali prowled up the highway and reached the Dawqah turnoff without incident. After parking the truck at the isolated crossroads, he came around the back to discover that Reg and Fadeela had switched uniforms along the way. She was now dressed as a British flight instructor and he as a Saudi infantryman.
“How do I look?” Reg asked.
Ali wanted to answer that he looked like an English pilot wearing a Saudi uniform. The olive green fatigues, which had been baggy on Fadeela, fit Reg snugly. His wrists and ankles protruded awkwardly beyond the cuffs, and the shirt would barely button closed over his chest. Three days of exposure to the sun had darkened his skin to the point where he might be able to pass, in the darkness of night, as an Arab, but his whiskers had bleached blond.
“You look fine,” Ali lied without hesitation, “but take this.” He took off his keffiyeh and set it on Reg’s head, pulling it down until it covered his eyes. “That’s better.”
“Someone is coming.” Fadeela said, looking down the highway. The three of them waited tensely as the headlights came toward them through the warm night, then turned up the mountain road. It was a convoy of sand-stained Toyota trucks carrying steel water drums. Ali stood in the road and waved them to a stop. After a brief conversation with the driver of each vehicle, he came to where Reg and Fadeela had hidden themselves.
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