Desert Stars (10 page)

Jalil frowned. “What for?”

“
To pass through customs,
of course. A dome is like a giant camp—not anyone can just walk
in.”

“
But what about guests?”
he asked. “Are you saying that the domers have no sense of
hospitality?”

“
No, no, no,” she said,
shaking her head vigorously. “That’s not at all what I’m saying.
They just need to know that you’re authorized—that you aren’t
bandits or robbers or bad people. Because they can’t keep track of
everyone personally, they require you to have the proper
documents.”

“
What kind of
documents?”

“
Well, it depends on the
dome. Here at Aliet Dome, most people keep them on personal storage
drives. In some of the domes, however, they use special identity
chips embedded in their bodies.”

“
In their bodies?” Mira
asked, eyes widening. Jalil shuddered; the idea of embedding any
kind of electronics inside him made his skin crawl.

“
Yes,” said Sarah. “But
don’t worry, you don’t need any of that; a standard handheld
datachip should be fine.”

“
How do we get these
documents?” Jalil asked, barely disguising his relief.

“
Well, since you’re only
applying for a pilgrim’s visa, it shouldn’t be too hard. First,
we’ll have to go down to the embassy to get a blood
sample—”

“
Blood?”

“
Don’t worry, it’s
perfectly safe. They’ll take your biological data, combine it with
your birth year and your tribe, and issue you passport datachips
after inputting all that into the main district registry. Even
though you’re both old enough to be considered independent, you’ll
need my signature as next of kin to verify your tribal
affiliation.”

“
So you’ll help us do all
this?” Jalil asked. His head was swimming with all the convoluted
instructions—if he had to do all this himself for him and Mira,
he’d be totally lost.

“
Of course! Besides, I
know some people who can help speed up the process.”

“
How long will it
take?”

Sarah touched her chin and looked up
in thought. “Oh, maybe two or three weeks,” she answered. “There’s
no way to know for sure.”

Jalil’s stomach
fell.
Two or three weeks,
he thought to himself. In that much time, they
could easily drive another four thousand miles across the
desert.

“
Is there any way to make
it go faster?”

“
Not without paying a lot
of extra money. Understand: without my friends, you’d have to wait
almost twice as long; that’s standard for most tribesmen. And I
understand you’re carrying a firearm?”

“
That’s right,” said
Jalil. He picked up his father’s rifle from the floor and laid it
across the table.

“
Hmm,” said Sarah,
frowning. “This complicates things. It’s Sathi’s personal heirloom,
isn’t it?”

“
Yes,” said Jalil,
nervously tapping his foot on the floor.

“
I know that Aliet Dome
will let you take it so long as it’s unloaded and you have a
ceremonial license. I’m not sure about the other domes, though.
We’ll have to check that on the planetnet.”

“
What will they
do?”

“
Worst case scenario,
they’ll confiscate it.”

Jalil perked up at once. “Confiscate
it? You mean, take it from me?”

“
I’m afraid so,” said
Sarah. “But don’t worry—we’ll make sure to keep that from
happening.”

“
God-willing,” he
muttered. Blood rushed to his cheeks, and he gripped his father’s
rifle tightly with both hands, as if afraid someone would
immediately climb up to the rooftop and seize it from
him.

“
I’d be surprised if you
didn’t find a way to get it through, though.” She leaned forward
and opened the thermos. “More tea?”

“
No, thank you,” said
Jalil.

“
I’ll have some,” Mira
said softly.

Sarah nodded and filled her cup. As
Mira gingerly lifted it to her lips, Sarah filled her own and
replaced the thermos on the table, steam lifting up a few inches
before wafting away on the cool night breeze.

“
There is one more thing,”
she said, setting her cup in her lap. “Mira, I’m afraid you won’t
be able to wear your headscarf in Aliet Dome.”

Jalil frowned, and he turned quickly
to glance at Mira. Though the twilight had long faded into
darkness, he could tell by the dim light of the streetlamps in the
lane that she was blushing.

“
Why?” she
asked.

“
It’s the law here,” Sarah
answered. “You’re allowed to wear a headband like mine, but you
cannot completely cover your hair or your head.”

“
That’s ridiculous,” said
Jalil, clenching his fists in frustration. “How can they make her
do such a thing?”

“
I’m afraid that’s just
the way things are done in there. The secularists make the laws,
and they feel that headscarves are too overtly religious to be a
part of public life.”

That explains why you’re
not wearing one,
Jalil almost blurted out.
Instead, he rose to his feet and started pacing across the
rooftop.

“
But—but what about her
honor? There will be strange men everywhere. What are we supposed
to do?”

“
Keep the law,” said
Sarah. “I know it seems immoral, but if you try to defy it, you’ll
only draw attention to yourselves—and trust me, you don’t want
that.”

“
How many people are in
the dome?” Mira whispered. She seemed suddenly fragile, as if a
single glance could shatter her.

“
Thousands, perhaps
millions. But don’t worry,” said Sarah, putting her hand on Mira’s
shoulder. “You’ll be fine. No one will mistreat you just because
your head is uncovered.”

“
Is there no way around
it?” Jalil asked, gripping the back of Mira’s chair as he stood
over her.

“
I’m afraid not,” said
Sarah. “In any case, you don’t have to worry about it yet. We’ve
still got to take care of your documents, and that’s going to take
at least a few weeks.”

Babylon,
Jalil thought bitterly to himself as he
remembered Hamza’s words.
We’re going into
Babylon, all right.

* * * * *

That night, Mira couldn’t sleep. The
wind roared past the window in her room, making an eerie whistling
noise as it shook the windowpanes. That wasn’t all, though. Perhaps
it was the woody, foreign smell of the room, or the perfect
straightness of the walls, or the uncomfortable softness of the
bed. Whatever it was, she tossed and turned for what felt like
hours, trying to find some firmness that would let her sleep.
Eventually, she gave up and lay on her back, staring at the
ceiling.

The stars,
she thought to herself.
If only I could see them, maybe I could forget how far I am
from home.

She quietly rose from the bed and
threw her cloak over her shift. The sound of the wind made her
shiver, and she stepped carefully in the darkness, groping her way
through the room until she came to the door. Once out, the
stairwell was only a short distance down the hall. The night air
was cold, the breeze stiff. The familiar stars and satellites
stared down at her from the sky, though with all the light from the
streetlamps, they were noticeably muted.

Wrapping her arms around herself for
warmth, she made her way to the edge and stared out across the
valley at the glass mountain—the world in a bottle. White and
yellow lights shone through the glass, too fuzzy to make out with
any clarity. It was a strange sight, and Mira stared at it for some
time.

“
You couldn’t sleep
either?”

The sound of Jalil’s voice gave her a
start. She turned quickly and saw him sitting on an old, weathered
couch facing the valley. The upholstery was torn, and stuffing was
falling out in places.

“
Oh,” she said softly.
“I—I didn’t see you.”

“
That’s all right; I could
use some company. Here, have a seat.”

He scooted over and made some room for
her. When she sat down, the couch gave way underneath her until she
was practically sitting on the ground. The wind picked up, and Mira
shivered.

“
Are you all right?” Jalil
asked. “You look cold—here, take this blanket.”

He leaned forward and pulled off the
blanket that he’d brought up from his bed.

“
That’s okay,” she said.
“You don’t have to—”

“
No, here,” he said. “You
need it more than I do.”

Mira tried to protest, but Jalil
draped the blanket over her shoulders without another word. She had
to admit, the added warmth felt surprisingly good against the chill
night air.

The breeze from the cliff played with
her hair, and she realized with a start that her head was
uncovered; she’d left her headscarf in her room. She glanced
nervously at Jalil, and their eyes met.

“
Something wrong?” he
asked.

“
My—my headscarf,” she
whispered.

He paused for a moment before giving
her a shrug. “That’s fine. It’s only us up here, and besides, it’s
not as if we aren’t family.”

She nodded and turned back to the view
off the edge of the cliff. He was right; for the first time since
setting out from the Najmi camp, they were completely alone
together.

Mother would want me to
take advantage of this moment,
she thought
nervously to herself. Her heart beat a little faster, and she
shifted uneasily on the couch.

“
Jalil?” she asked, her
voice weak. “Do you—do you want to share the blanket?”

“
No, I’m fine.” From the
way his shoulder’s shook, however, she knew he was
shivering.

“
Are you sure?”

He hesitated for a long moment. “Well,
I suppose.”

His body seemed tense as he scooted
close to her. Taking care not to touch, he pulled the blanket over
toward his side of the couch. However, it soon became apparent that
they would both have to squeeze together in order to fit beneath
it. Moving tentatively, they came together until the sides of their
legs and arms were touching.

Shivers ran up and down Mira’s back,
and not from the cold. Her heart pounded like a nuclear engine as
she contemplated what to do next. Now was the time to make her
move, but what exactly was she supposed to do? Lean on his chest as
she pretended to fall asleep? Slip her arms around his
waist?

No,
she decided. It just felt wrong. Besides, they still had a
long road ahead of them; maybe Jalil would come around on his own,
without any manipulation on her part. Better to give it time and
let things develop naturally.

She took in a deep breath and tried to
calm her trembling body, but he turned to her before she could do
so.

“
Are you cold?” he
asked.

“
No,” Mira said; then,
“well, maybe a little.”

“
Don’t worry; I’m sure
we’ll be warm in a minute.”

That was true enough, what with the
way they were snuggled up close to each other. She wondered what
her sisters would think if they could see her—what sort of scandal
it would raise across the camp. She half expected a wave of guilt
to sweep over her, but instead, all she felt was a soft, delicious
warmth, and not only from the blanket.

She remembered the day Jalil had first
come to the camp. A strange object had fallen from the sky a few
nights before, lighting the sky as it fell. Her father and uncle
had driven out to investigate. To everyone’s surprise, they’d
returned to the camp a few days later with a small, blond
boy.

Mira had been seven years old at the
time. The sight of the golden-haired boy had filled her with fear,
and she’d hidden behind her mother’s robe. When she’d peeked around
the hem, however, she was surprised to see that the boy looked just
as frightened as she felt.

“
We found the remains of a
fallen starship,” her father had said. “There were no survivors in
the wreckage, but we found this boy in a small pod not far from the
crash site.”

At that moment the boy’s eyes had met
hers. He smiled weakly at her, sending her scurrying behind her
mother’s legs.

“
Zayne,” her father had
said, “I know that this boy won’t replace our son Asi—may Allah
have mercy upon him—but I want you to raise him as one of our
own.”

Many years later, after the camp had
moved from the foothills to the wide desert plain, Mira remembered
how Jalil had returned from a particularly long scouting
expedition. Mira had always kept her distance from him, like the
reluctant little girl who had hidden behind the hem of her mother’s
robe. But the young man was not a little boy anymore—and the little
girl had long since grown to become a young woman. By then, it was
no secret that Sheikh Sathi wanted to find a bride for his
son.

Mira had watched from a tiny hole in
one of the side tents as Jalil’s caravaneer rushed home across the
plain, kicking up a long cloud of dust. The caravaneer rolled into
the main compound and skidded to a stop, sand and gravel crunching
underneath the oversized tires. Jalil climbed out and greeted the
tribesmen who had come to help him unpack.