Desert Stars

by Joe Vasicek

  At that moment, a deep rumbling noise came from the camp. Jalil frowned; it sounded like a caravaneer, except almost ten times louder. But that would only make sense if—

  As realization dawned on him, the Bridgette One made its vertical ascent, hovering for a few seconds over the ground before shooting off across the sky.

  “No!” he shouted.

  But it was too late. As the shuttle disappeared into the fading twilight, a horrible sinking feeling grew in his stomach.

  “What’s wrong?” said Mira. “Jalil—Jalil!”

  “Why?” he shouted into the sky, as if demanding an answer of the universe.

  “Was that Michelle? Was she not supposed to go?”

  “No,” he said, collapsing to his knees. “She—she was supposed to—”

  “It must have been Mother,” said Mira, her face reflecting Jalil’s apprehension. “She’d said something about trying to convince Michelle to go.”

  Then we’re stranded, Jalil thought despondently to himself. The world is about to end, and we’re stranded on it.

  Chapter 21

  As a little girl, Mira had often wondered what her wedding day would be like. She’d imagined herself wearing a finely embroidered black dress, with gold and silver coins dangling from her hems, jingling as she walked. She’d imagined her father and mother and all her sisters, dressed in their finest clothes, ululating with wild, thrilling cries as she came forward to meet the groom. He would be a princely man, dressed in robes of pure white with a magnificent sword at his belt and a gold plated rifle strapped to his back. Before exchanging vows, their eyes would meet, and it would be like eternity reflecting upon itself.

  She never imagined it would be like this.

  The day dawned with a few small convoys of close relatives riding into the compound, cheering and ululating as they fired their rifles into the air. The wuft wuft of the camp’s plasma cannons answered, shots arcing high across the sky before falling to the ground miles away and turning the sand to glass.

  All that was to be expected, of course. But inside the tents, everything seemed to be going wrong. The sun was barely a full hand over the horizon, and her sisters were helping her put on her wedding robes—the same ones that Lena had worn. In their haste to prepare for the wedding, her parents obviously hadn’t had time to make special ones for her.

  “It looks fine,” said Amina, rolling her eyes as Surayya made another adjustment to the fabric at Mira’s waist.

  “Oh, hush,” Surayya shot back. “This is Mira’s special day. Everything has to be perfect.”

  “Stars of Earth, you act like you’re her mother.”

  The comment made Mira cringe, though Amina hardly seemed to notice. If this were a normal wedding, her mother would be the one helping her with the dress.

  The door behind them parted, and Tiera stepped inside. Out in the corridor, Jalil’s voice carried as he shouted with their father.

  “What did you tell her? Just tell me!” he yelled.

  “What are you doing here?” Amina asked as the tent flap fell shut. Tiera returned her impassive gaze without flinching.

  “I’m sorry; last time I checked, I was still a member of this family.”

  Mira sighed. “Please don’t fight.”

  “Right,” said Amina. “Well, you all seem to be doing well here; I’ll check up on the work in the kitchen.”

  “That seems like a great idea,” said Tiera.

  Amina glared at her before parting the tent flap and storming out. Surayya shook her head and put her hands on her hips.

  “You two—”

  “Are we finished yet?” Mira asked.

  “Just a moment,” said Surayya, returning to her work.

  “You’ve done a great job with the dress,” said Tiera, admiring her half-sister’s work. “Mira, you look gorgeous.”

  “Thank you. But what’s going on outside? Was that Jalil screaming?”

  Tiera nodded. “He’s still upset about Michelle.”

  “Offworlders,” Surayya muttered, not looking up from her work. “You’d expect Jalil’s own blood sister to at least stay for his wedding.”

  “When will she be back?” Mira asked.

  “I don’t know,” said Tiera. “Father probably convinced her that the wedding would go faster if she was gone.”

  “And he’s right,” said Surayya. “It’s barely been a week since Jalil proposed.”

  “Yes,” said Tiera, “but I doubt he told her that we were moving the camp immediately afterward.”

  Mira’s stomach fell. “What? We’re moving the camp?”

  “That’s right,” said Tiera, nodding grimly. “Half the things are already packed. As soon as the ceremony’s over, the plan is to load up the caravaneers and take off.”

  “But—but why?”

  “I don’t know, but I suspect Shira is behind it.”

  Mira bit her lip and nodded. She sensed intuitively that Tiera was right.

  “Oh, Mother’s not such a monster as you make her out to be,” said Surayya, looking up from her work. “Even if she was behind it, I’m sure there was a good reason.”

  “She doesn’t want Jalil and me to run off again,” Mira whispered. “They want to keep us here, at the camp.”

  “Well, that makes sense, what with all the crazy things he told us about the world coming to an end.”

  “Do you believe him?” Tiera asked, looking Mira straight in the eye.

  “I do.”

  “Oh, come on,” said Surayya, putting her hands to her hips as she stood up again. “How could you possibly believe all that?”

  Because Jalil has never lied to me.

  “If what he says is true,” said Tiera, “then we’re all in grave danger.”

  “Do you believe it?” Mira asked.

  “Of course I do.”

  Surayya threw up her hands in desperation. “Can’t you pay attention to what’s important here? In less than two hours, Mira is going to be a married woman.”

  Less than two hours, Mira thought to herself. She didn’t know what felt more unreal—the fact that she was getting married, or the thought that at any moment, the world as she knew it might end.

  * * * * *

  Jalil’s mind raced, and not with thoughts of the marriage. How could you send her away? he wondered. Why won’t you let me raise her on the radio?

  It all felt so surreal, staring at the crowd of guests and family. In true desert fashion, they’d decked him out in the finest silk robes with a golden sword by his side and the heirloom rifle on his back. From the looks of awe in the eyes of all the guests, he must have made an impressive figure. Yet at the same time, he felt utterly and completely powerless, knowing that the Hameji could strike at any moment.

  The door flap on the far side of the room parted, and Mira entered. Jalil’s breath caught in his throat, and a rousing cry of cheers and ululating voices arose from the crowd of guests. She was absolutely stunning in her wedding dress—more beautiful than he could have ever imagined. Rather than hiding her face, the ornately embroidered headscarf drew out her gorgeous eyes, making her smile shine all the brighter through the veil. He’d known in his mind that they were to be married this day, but until this moment he hadn’t truly felt it. Now, with his heart pounding and his legs shaking, he realized for the first time that it was actually happening.

  Mira walked down the aisle and took her place by his side. Together, they faced the crowd, waiting several minutes for the cries of jubilation to die down.

  “My fellow tribesmen, both in law and in blood,” Sheikh Sathi began, “we have come together to witness the happy and auspicious marriage of my beloved daughter, Mira Al-Jamiyla, to my son from the stars, Jalil Al-Shadiyd. Though Heaven, Earth, and Hell conspired endlessly to force them apart, they have come together now to seal that union which, God-willing, shall last the duration of this life and into the next.”

  Come on, Jalil thought to himself, nervously tapping his foot. Let’s g
et on with it.

  “Though voluminous tales could be told of their exploits,” Sathi continued, “I do not wish to delay the celebrations with my longwinded tongue.” He smiled, and his joke met with scattered laughter. “But if you will spare me a few words, I wish to express my deepest love for my daughter and my son.

  “For the past sixteen years, I have watched Mira blossom like a flower in the desert, growing from baby to girl to the young woman you see before us now. Though shy of nature, I can testify that she possesses a strength of spirit greater than many here. I consider it one of the greatest blessings of Allah to have been her father.”

  Jalil glanced over at Mira and saw her eyes begin to glisten. He reached down and took her hand—an audacious move in the eyes of some, but that hardly seemed to matter. She squeezed his fingers gratefully.

  “And Jalil, my beloved, my son from the stars,” Sathi continued. “What a supreme blessing it has been to be counted a father to such a boy! He came to us as an answer to prayer, in the dark days after the death of my firstborn. But praise be to Allah, who rules the heavens from his throne on the Earth of Paradise. Though not of the desert by birth, over the years he has grown into a fine son and a worthy tribesman, and it pleases me on this day to name him my successor, both in name and inheritance. When I go the way of all men, may my son, Jalil Al-Shadiyd, lead this camp in the paths of wisdom, that the Merciful and the Compassionate may grant His blessings upon all who dwell therein!”

  A mighty cheer erupted from the crowd, and a dozen ululating cries shook the walls of the camp. Jalil swallowed as a host of unsettled emotions rose in his chest. Next to him, Mira squeezed his hand as if to reassure him.

  “And now,” Sathi shouted over the crowd, “let us witness the bride and groom exchange their vows!”

  As the cheering gradually died down, Jalil turned to Mira and took a deep breath. The words, though practiced several times at the insistence of his mother, refused to come. She waited patiently for him to clear his throat, her smile radiating through the veil of gold and silver coins.

  “Mira Al-Jamiyla Bint Shira Saharat Al-Gharab Al-Gaiani Al-Jadida,” he said, looking into her beautiful hazel eyes, “do you promise before Allah and these witnesses to be my wife?”

  “Yes,” she said, her voice soft and clear. “Jalil Al-Shadiyd Ibn Sathi Al-Najmi Saharat Al-Gharab Al-Gaiani Al-Jadida, do you promise before Allah and these witnesses to—”

  A noiseless flash from outside briefly filled the room with an eerie pinkish light, causing a rumble of confusion to pass through the crowd. Jalil’s stomach fell through the floor.

  “What was that?”

  “A flare? Could it be—”

  Ignoring the shocked look on Shira’s face, he ran down from the stand and out to the side door, his nerves so tight he felt he would snap.

  What he saw outside confirmed his worst fears. A series of bright orange lights flashed on the horizon, casting long, eerie shadows across the land. Bright yellow tracers arced hundreds of miles in the sky toward unseen targets, falling with deceptive slowness to the ground.

  This was it—the Hameji assault had begun.

  “Jalil!” came his father’s voice behind him. “What are you doing? Don’t you—”

  “Look,” said Jalil, pointing with a shaking finger at the signs of battle high overhead. “Do you see that?”

  Sathi looked up and frowned. A soundless explosion briefly outshone the light of the sun, casting strange shadows across the barren desert landscape.

  “By the stars of Earth,” he said. “Is that—”

  “I need to contact Michelle,” Jalil said. “Please, Father, let me do this.”

  Sathi hesitated for a moment, his cheeks pale. He nodded slowly.

  “What is the meaning of this!” Shira screeched as Jalil ran past her. “How dare you—”

  “Step aside,” said Jalil. He sprinted down the dimly lit corridors to his private study.

  Tiera joined him as he entered. The noise in the halls grew increasingly loud as the crowd spilled out of the front room. Ignoring them, Jalil flipped the switch to activate the shortwave.

  Nothing happened.

  He flipped the switch again, with no response. Overhead, the glowlamps in the stained glass chandelier flickered ominously, no doubt from the electromagnetic pulse.

  Jalil swore and slammed his fist against the dusty equipment.

  “It’s dead,” he said. “All dead.”

  “Have you tried—”

  Jalil’s head swam, and he wanted nothing more than to get out of this confined space—to get out in the fresh air, one last time. He ran past his father, shouldering his way through the crowd that now filled the corridors and out the first door into the desert.

  The unearthly fireworks continued, casting strange shadows across the desert landscape. As the guests scattered—some to their caravaneers, others to the camp’s adobe shelters—the sky changed from blue to white to pink, then gradually back to blue. The surreal sight sent chills down his back and made his stomach go weak.

  It was the end of the world.

  “Jalil!” came Mira’s voice behind him. He spun around in time to take her in his arms, holding her as she trembled from fear.

  “Is this it?” she asked. “Is this the end?”

  Shouts of panic and confusion sounded all around them. One caravaneer took off across the desert, followed by another.

  “Yes.”

  She looked up at him and nodded. “Then let’s at least finish what we came for.”

  He looked into her eyes and realized she was talking about the wedding. Though her face was filled with fear, she possessed an earnestness that could not be shaken.

  “Very well,” he said, taking both her hands in his own. “Mira, do you promise to be my wife?”

  “Yes,” she said. “Jalil, do you promise to be my husband?”

  In that moment, all the noise and lights and confusion seemed to fade into the background. It felt almost like a dream—not a dream of terror, but one of such power and raw emotion that it would not fade, not even after waking. Jalil squeezed her hands and leaned forward—there was nothing but the two of them now.

  “Yes,” he said. “Yes, I do!”

  Mira pulled off her veil and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him down for one last kiss, here at the end of the world. Overhead, the sky exploded in pink and orange and red, while shadows of the mountains danced across the desert plains.

  “Look!” came Tiera’s voice, rising above the din of the departing caravaneers.

  Jalil looked up, and his heart skipped a beat. Out on the horizon, a small black dot raced across the sky. It circled the camp, approaching nearer with each pass. As it drew closer, the whine of starship engines drowned out all other noise, until the shuttle made a hard landing on the dusty ground before them.

  Joy and relief washed over him like a warm summer rain. It was the Bridgette One.

  * * * * *

  Mira reached up and covered her mouth, squinting against the dust kicked up by the returning starship. Behind her, Shira coughed, while Lena and her husband squinted and waved the air in front of their faces.

  Jalil practically sprinted to the ship, reaching it just as the hatchway opened and Michelle stepped out. He turned back to them, eyes lit with an urgency born of desperation.

  “Everybody in!” he shouted, beckoning to them. “There’s no time to lose!”

  Mira glanced over her shoulder at the rest of her family. To her surprise, they stood completely still, staring in confusion. Overhead, another flare lit the sky, bathing them in pink and white light.

  “Did you hear me?” Jalil shouted. “The world is ending—we have to leave!”

  “We’re not going anywhere in the devil’s caravaneer,” said Shira, putting her hands obstinately on her hips. Mira’s stomach fell, and her legs went weak.

  “There’s no time to argue,” said Tiera, running forward. “Come on, let’s go!”

&n
bsp; All eyes turned to her father, but Sathi glanced sheepishly at Shira, as if looking for some direction. No, Mira thought to herself. Please, not now.

  “What are you waiting for?” Jalil shouted. “There’s no time; we’ve got less than ten minutes before—”

  “We’re staying right here,” said Shira. “This is our home, and no tricks from you are going to get us to abandon it. Right, girls?”

  Mira took a step forward, feeling as if someone else were controlling her body. She took a deep breath and broke into a run.

  “Hey!” her mother screamed. “Mira! Come back here!”

  Before Shira could stop her, she was back in Jalil’s arms, trembling with fear and joy and a hundred other racing emotions.

  “Jalil! How dare you steal my daughter! Mira, come back at once!”

  “Mother!” Tiera shouted from the hatchway, ignoring the others. “Come on!”

  Zayne looked from Tiera to Sathi and back again, hesitant to be the next to step forward.

  “Zayne!” Jalil cried, letting go of Mira. “Mother, please! Let’s go!”

  With tears in her eyes, Zayne came forward, stumbling over the rocky earth. Tiera ran forward and helped her to the shuttle, while Shira shook her head and clucked disapprovingly.

  “We don’t have any more time,” Jalil shouted, his voice growing hoarse. “Can’t you see? Everyone who stays behind is going to die!”

  Mira glanced desperately from face to face. Her eyes met Rina’s, and her sister ran forward into her waiting arms. Surayya came next, but at a shout from their mother, she stopped and hesitated midway.

  “No!” Mira cried. “Surayya, don’t—”

  “Come back at once, young woman!” Shira screamed, anger screwing her face into an ugly sneer.