Desert Stars

by Joe Vasicek

  “But what about the wedding?”

  Mark sighed. “It doesn’t look like we’ll be able to be there for that. The best we can do is wish you both luck.”

  Nash nodded, his face unreadable.

  “As for the Bridgette,” Mark continued, “since you’ll both need her more than we will, it’s only fitting that we give you the ship as our wedding present.”

  Nash’s jaw dropped, and his eyes widened. “Leave us with the Bridgette? Are you sure?”

  “I am,” said Mark, smiling. “You’ll make a fine captain, Nash. I’m sure you and Michelle will be very happy together.”

  “Th-thank you, sir!” Nash exclaimed. He took Mark’s hand and shook it with both of his own. “How can I ever repay you?”

  “Take care of my daughter. And later, after this war blows over, come back and find us. No matter how bleak things look now, I’m sure this goodbye won’t be forever.”

  God-willing, Jalil thought to himself. He wondered whether he could say the same thing of his goodbye to Mira.

  * * * * *

  Mira watched as Nazar’s caravaneer drove away across the desert, kicking up a plume of dust visible for miles. The early morning landscape was cool and almost perfectly tranquil; with the sun still low on the horizon, long shadows still covered the sleeping desert. The peacefulness calmed her somewhat, but it didn’t reflect the feelings in her heart.

  “There he goes,” muttered Surayya, her voice as serious as if someone in the family had died. She turned to Mira and gave her a mournful stare.

  “At least we have a couple of weeks before the next merchant convoy comes through,” said Amina, trying to be helpful. “Who knows? Maybe in that time you can convince Father not to throw you out.”

  I doubt it, Mira thought to herself. Mother would never allow it. Once Shira had reason to hold a grudge, she would die before letting it go—even if those it hurt were her own flesh and blood.

  Well, so be it. Mira had known the risks, she’d made her choice, and now things were set in motion that no one could turn back. The dissipating dust plume was evidence enough of that.

  The door flap behind them parted, and Tiera walked over to join them. Surayya shot her a dirty look before leaving quickly with Amina. It was just as well; Mira didn’t know if she could handle another fight between her sisters right then.

  “So he’s gone?” said Tiera, looking out over the desert as she stood beside her.

  “Yes.”

  Tiera nodded. “You did the right thing.”

  “Did I?”

  “Ask yourself and see what the answer is.”

  Mira pondered it for a moment, and realized Tiera was right. Her world was about to be shattered forever, yet she felt no guilt or regret for anything she had done. Was that what true honor felt like? Tiera would probably think so, and Mira didn’t disagree with her.

  “Still,” she said softly, “what am I supposed to do now?”

  “The same as any of us. Make the most with what you’re given.”

  That’s not a whole lot, Mira thought to herself. Still, Tiera was right. God-willing, she’d manage.

  God-willing.

  Chapter 18

  That night during his sleep shift, Jalil had the nightmare again.

  He watched himself walk into the seedy, smoke-filled cantina and take a seat facing the stage. Though he knew full well what would happen next, the dream played across his mind like a holovid, leaving him powerless to change anything. Within a few tense moments, the stage lit up and three girls stepped into the showcases, swaying voluptuously to the heavy electronic beat.

  Sweat streaked Jalil’s forehead, and his heart pounded as if it would burst. One by one, the girls turned to face the audience.

  Tiera was first, her tall, thin body moving back and forth like a snake. Her skimpy outfit showed more of her skin than Jalil had ever seen, and his knees went weak as she began to pull it off. Their eyes met, and she gave him a smile that was utterly unlike her.

  Just before she slipped out of her top, his view shifted, and he was staring at Michelle. With the electronic beat pulsating all around her, she closed her eyes and arched her back with her arms behind her head, as if in the throes of ecstasy. Her breasts practically bulged out at him, her tight-fitting clothes revealing far more than they hid. As her hands slipped down her exposed midriff and began to undo the clasp at her waist, sweat began to run down Jalil’s forehead. A wave of guilt swept over him for staring, but try as he might, he couldn’t avert his eyes.

  Before Michelle undid the clasp, his vision shifted again, and he was staring at Mira in the center showcase. While the other two girls were certainly beautiful, Mira blew them all away. Every part of her hourglass body was perfectly proportioned, her hair long and luscious, her skin smooth and clear. The way she swayed to the heavy dance beat evoked an almost animal urge within him, melting his legs to water and filling him with a throbbing, pulsating desire.

  As Mira danced, the room filled with catcalls and cheers. Hot blood rose to Jalil’s cheeks, but he sat frozen to the spot. He struggled to free himself, but his body would not obey him. The deep-seated hunger the girls had aroused within him nearly overwhelmed his better nature, but he fought back against it, knowing that this spectacle was wrong.

  Before she began to disrobe, her eyes met his own. The expression of fear and sadness he saw there made him gasp as a tremor of shock passed through him.

  Save me.

  Without a word, she turned her back to the crowd and wrapped her arms around her body, slowly hiking up her top. The catcalls grew louder, and the men started to throw gold coins at the foot of the showcase.

  Something inside of Jalil snapped, and he lunged forward with all his might, breaking the spell that bound him. Within moments he was at the window, pounding on the glass barrier between him and Mira. The cheers turned to shouts of anger, and hands tried to tear him away, but he shook them off and struck the glass with all the force he could manage.

  Within the showcase, a door opened in the wall behind the stage. A man with a shrouded face took Mira by the arm, leading her away to the evil men who waited for her in the darkness. As he pulled her offstage, she glanced frantically at Jalil, screaming for help with her eyes.

  Save me!

  The hands pulled him back, all but overpowering him. He thrashed about, but the man with the shrouded face took Mira away.

  “NO!”

  With a hair-raising shout, Jalil pulled himself free and lunged headfirst at the showcase.

  The showcase window shattered on impact, sending him sprawling. With the crowd of angry men close behind him, he climbed over the broken glass and smashed down the door on the other side.

  “Mira!”

  For a few moments, he was surrounded by nothing but darkness. Slowly, however, the space lightened until he could see clearly.

  To his surprise, he was out in the open desert. The sky overhead was deep blue, filled with puffy white clouds that beckoned with the promise of moisture. The air was clear and clean, devoid of the smog that had filled Raya Dome. The sun shone unobstructed overhead, its rays pleasant and warm on his face.

  He walked a little ways and realized that he wasn’t in the desert, but a rich, brown land of golden-green grass and verdant forests. Fields of untended grain stretched to the horizon, a land of plenty untainted by man or machine.

  Jalil felt as if he were returning from a long and tiresome journey. His body was exhausted, but a profound sense of peace filled him. For the first time since setting out for the Temple of a Thousand Suns, he finally felt as if he had found his home.

  Mira, he wondered to himself. Where is she? Somehow, he knew that she was near, and that he had saved her.

  As he walked, he neared what appeared to be the Najmi camp. He saw the central windmill jutting above the horizon, the steamy hydroponics greenhouse, the main hall and front room, and the women’s quarters. Unlike the Najmi camp, however, these tents weren’t sun-faded
or dusty, but clean and shimmering, as if new.

  As he approached the camp, everyone came out to greet him. Sheikh Sathi, bedecked in his finest robes, stood at the head of the welcoming crowd, with Zayne and Shira on either side. Neither they nor any of the women wore the veil—Jalil, after all, was family. He saw Lena and her husband; they had nearly a dozen children, but Lena looked only a few years older and not any less beautiful than when he’d left. Mira’s other sisters were there as well, all of them with husbands and children. Jalil smiled to see Tiera with a magnificent, princely man, and three strong sons at her feet. Even little Rina, who was now a beautiful young woman, had a handsome husband by her side. It filled him with joy to see them all so happy.

  His eyes fell on Mira last of all. She was a mature woman now, a few years short of middle age, but had lost none of her younger beauty. If anything, maturity had only enhanced it. She carried a young infant in her arms, with five other children by her side. The oldest of these was a strong little boy, with fair white skin and golden hair.

  “Thank you for saving me,” she said, smiling up at him.

  “You’re welcome,” Jalil stammered.

  She glanced coyly at the ground, and in that moment, Jalil felt an overwhelming urge to take her in his arms and hold her—not out of some shameful, animal hunger, but out of something much deeper. More than anything, he wanted just to be with her—to know that they would always be together.

  “Look!” shouted Tiera, and everyone turned. A figure in the distance made his way towards them, walking through the golden-green fields of grass. Jalil squinted, but the late afternoon sun shone low in the sky and kept him from making out the figure’s face.

  “Daddy!” Mira’s fair-haired son cried with delight, running out to meet him. Mira followed with her other children, the rest of the family laughing with joy as they ran beside her.

  The man swept up his young son and kissed him on the cheeks. As Mira approached, he set the boy down and embraced his wife. As they stood there in each others’ arms, Jalil came closer, peering to get a better look at him.

  When Jalil finally caught sight of the man’s face, he gasped in shock. It was his own.

  And then he was the man, returning home from a long and tiring journey. He took his youngest child from Mira’s tired arms, the others tugging playfully at his robes. They looked so strong and beautiful—strong like their father, and beautiful like their mother.

  He glanced up and met Mira’s gaze. Her rich, hazel eyes seemed to beckon to him. Welcome home, they seemed to say. Welcome home to your family.

  The feelings of shame and guilt from the cantina were swept away by an overwhelming sense of peace, and he knew that the nightmare would no longer torment him. Tears filled his eyes as he looked at Mira and realized that he’d found what he’d been searching for all his life.

  Home.

  * * * * *

  “Disobedient girl! Why must you insult our guests and disgrace the family name?”

  Does it matter to you that he nearly raped me? Mira wanted to scream. She held her tongue, though—her father’s study was no place to be petty, especially now.

  “Calm down, dear,” said her father, putting a hand on Shira’s shoulder. She angrily shrugged it off.

  “No, I will not be calm! This little whore who calls herself my daughter has sullied the family honor and rejected every attempt to clear her name. No daughter of mine would do such a thing—she deserves to be thrown out of the camp for her insolence!”

  The family honor is a sham and you know it, Mira thought bitterly to herself. But her mother’s words stung more than she’d thought possible; her hands began to tremble, so she clasped them in front of her, trying to ignore the growing numbness in her legs.

  “Now, now, dear,” said Sathi. “We mustn’t condemn her out of anger. Wrath is no true friend to justice.”

  Relief swept through Mira’s body like a calming ocean wave. If her father was inclined to support her, then maybe—

  “However,” her father said, giving her a stern glance, “your mother’s words, though spoken in the heat of anger, still stand true.”

  Mira’s stomach sank, and she felt as if the ground had opened up beneath her.

  “You have rejected every effort of ours to clear your good name,” her father continued. “Rejected our kindness and longsuffering in restoring your honor. But now, we can no longer afford to turn a blind eye to your actions.”

  “And what are those actions?” Mira whispered.

  Her mother glared, but Sathi raised his hand and she held her peace.

  “You left alone for the temple with Jalil and spent more than a month alone with him. Do I need to explain why this would bring dishonor upon us all?”

  No. But you’re wrong.

  “And if that weren’t enough,” shot her mother, “you’ve insulted our guests—your own cousin, even—by turning down his generous marriage request.”

  “He tried to rape me,” Mira muttered, her heart pounding.

  “What?” said her father.

  “He tried to rape me,” she said, a little louder this time. “Ask Tiera. I was in the greenhouse picking cucumbers when Ibrahim tried to force himself on me.”

  Her father shook his head. “I’m sorry, dear, but we can’t prove any of that. And even if we could, Ibrahim and Nazar are our flesh and blood; it would be dangerous to accuse them. A house divided against itself cannot stand.”

  But it still happened! she wanted to scream. Does that even matter to you?

  “Therefore,” Sathi continued, “you leave us with no choice. We must cast you out of the camp and disown you as our daughter.”

  Mira swallowed and took a deep breath as the weight of her father’s words threatened to crush her. Everything around her seemed to blur, like something from a dream.

  A thought came into her mind like a shining ray of hope. “If I’m going to be exiled, can I go to Terra 2 Dome?” she asked. “To live with Aunt Nawal?”

  Shira gave a short laugh. “If you can afford it.”

  “But—but what am I to do then?”

  Her mother sneered. “You should have thought of that before you insulted your cousin.”

  “We’ll permit you to stay at the camp until the next merchant convoy passes through,” her father said. “Once you leave, where you choose to go and what you choose to do is your own affair.”

  Mira nodded. “I understand,” she whispered.

  “Good. Now, while honor may require us to cast you out, it does not require us to cast you out empty handed. We can pay for passage to the nearest settlement, and leave you with enough spending money to—”

  “Leave her with money?” Shira screeched. “After all she’s done?”

  The money, Mira realized with a start, remembering the cash datachips that Jalil had left with her. They still remained in her bag—she’d forgotten to tell her parents about them. If she could use the money to buy passage to New Amman, perhaps she could stay with her cousin Sarah until she earned enough for passage to Terra 2 Dome. All wasn’t lost—she could find a way to get through this and build a better life for herself. She could do this.

  “… doesn’t deserve even an empty datachip from us,” her mother continued, face red with anger. “She disgraced us by sleeping with Jalil, she disobeyed us by letting him get away, and she dishonored us by rejecting Ibrahim’s more than generous offer to—”

  “That’s enough,” Mira said softly.

  A deathly silence fell across the room. Both her father and her mother stopped and turned to her.

  “What did you say?” her mother asked, eyes narrowing.

  A wave of fear shot down Mira’s spine. Her hands trembled and her legs felt weak, but she clenched the hem of her robe and repeated her words.

  “I said, that’s enough.”

  “How—how dare you!”

  “No,” Mira said, “how dare you? I haven’t done anything wrong, and you know it.”

  The bo
ldness of her words shocked her almost as much as her mother. Adrenaline surged through her body as she realized she no longer had anything to lose.

  “The family honor is a sham,” she continued, her heart pounding. “You only sent me on the pilgrimage to sleep with Jalil and shame him into marrying me. Well, I didn’t. That’s right, I didn’t. You falsely accuse me of the very thing you—”

  Her mother’s hand struck her hard on the cheek, sending her into the carpeted dirt floor. “Silence!” Shira screamed. “I won’t hear any more of this!”

  “Dear! Please—”

  Mira rubbed her cheek where her mother had struck her. The blow stung something terrible, but a smile slowly spread across her face as she turned and sat up. If she was to be exiled, that meant that her mother no longer owned her. The fact that Shira had to resort to violence to control her only confirmed that fact—confirmed it with a dizzying wave of exhilaration.

  Outcast or not, Mira was finally free.

  * * * * *

  Jalil’s legs felt weak as he followed Lars through the crowd at the jump station’s food court. Even the high vaulted ceiling and stars in the windows overhead couldn’t allay the tension in his nerves.

  This is the moment of truth, he thought to himself. In just a little while, I’ll have the knowledge that I came out here for.

  Why, then, did the prospect terrify him?

  “Lars!” called out a voice from behind them. They turned, and a tall young man stepped out of the crowd to give Lars a firm handshake, which soon turned to a shoulder hug. “It’s so good to see you.”

  “You too, Will,” said Lars, smiling. “How are things?”

  “Shitty, same as for everyone. This is Gavin?”