Desert Stars (11 page)

Sathi stepped out to greet him,
dressed in his imposing gold-trimmed robes. Mira watched intently
from her hiding place as Jalil broke away from his countrymen to
embrace his father and kiss him on both cheeks.

“
Habibi,” said the sheikh,
kissing his adopted son. “How are you? How was your health? How was
your journey?”

“
Very well, Father, very
well,” said Jalil. “But where is my mother? I haven’t seen her for
over a month.”

“
Zayne? She’s inside. Why
don’t you—”

But Jalil was already running for the
door. He passed only a few feet from Mira’s hiding place, making
her catch her breath. A few moments later, he was inside, hurrying
through the women’s quarters. Mira slipped out of the tent and
discreetly followed him.

She found Jalil in the courtyard,
clutching his adopted mother in a warm embrace. Tears ran down both
of their cheeks, though more especially on Zayne’s.

“
Jalil, my son!” she had
cried. “I missed you so much!”

“
I know, Mother,” Jalil
had said, not ashamed to hold his mother close. “I’m back now—you
don’t have to worry.”

“
Did you take care of
yourself?”

“
Of course! I would feel
terrible if you lost another son.”

Mira stood off to the side, watching
both of them in silence. As she recalled Zayne’s anxious worrying
on his behalf from the past weeks, she choked up a little herself.
Jalil had never been gone so long; it was telling that the first
person he sought out was his mother.

In that moment, Mira had known that
she loved him.

“
What do you think of the
headscarf ban in Aliet Dome?” Jalil asked, his question bringing
her back to the present.

“
The ban?” she said. “I
don’t know.”

“
We don’t have to go this
way, you know. We can go around Aliet Dome and get in somewhere
else, if you’d rather.”

“
But what about the
documents?” she asked.

“
That doesn’t matter.
We’ll find a way.”

He turned and glanced at her, his face
illuminated by the soft yellow glow of the mountain of glass across
the valley. Mira paused for a second, unsure what to say. Going
around would give them more time together—time that she’d need, if
she was to convince him to stay—but it would be such an
inconvenience for him.

“
I’ll be fine,” she
whispered.

“
Are you sure?” he asked,
a look of concern on his face. “There are going to be a lot of
strange men in there. I don’t like the thought of them staring at
you.”

“
At least I won’t be
alone.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “That’s true,
I suppose.”

They stared for several moments at the
giant glass mountain across the valley. It filled nearly half of
the horizon, casting an eerie yellow glow against the rocks and
boulders near its base. Overhead, the stars and satellites shone
down in their familiar patterns and constellations.

“
Are you scared?” Mira
asked. Coming from her own lips, the question surprised
her.

“
Scared? No. Why should I
be?”

“
I don’t know,” she said,
blushing a little. “It’s just—everything seems so strange, so
unlike home.”

“
Are you
scared?”

“
Maybe a
little.”

“
Don’t worry. I’ll look
after you. We’ll get to the temple all right.”

She leaned a little closer into him.
His body felt so warm under the blanket, especially with the biting
wind off of the cliffs. He put his arm around her, shielding her
from the cold. In her drowsy state, the feel of his touch on her
shoulders made her muscles turn to water.

I could marry him,
she thought to herself as she closed her
eyes.
I could spend the rest of my life
with him and be happy.

But could he?

Chapter 5

“
Earth, the Hidden
Paradise, the Fled World, is within each of us,” said the man at
the head of the multitude. “It is hidden in our hearts like a godly
seed, waiting to sprout and shine forth with its divine
light.”

What’s this about?
Jalil wondered to himself as he and Mira walked
along the outskirts of New Amman. Mira had wanted to get away from
the city for a while, and since Jalil had nothing else to do while
they waited for their documents to be processed, he had agreed to
go with her. Beyond the giant windmills, the desert plain stretched
all the way to the horizon, broken only by the dusty road and an
occasional structure. But closer to the ridge, where the rust-red
landscape gave way to the bustling streets and white stone
buildings of New Amman, a sizable crowd upwards of a thousand
people had gathered. At the center of a rocky field stood a short,
balding man, evidently a preacher of some kind.

Jalil shrugged and turned to go, but
Mira lingered as if she wanted to stay. Since they didn’t have
anywhere else to be, he followed her to the edge of the
crowd.

“
Each of us carries a
piece of Earth with us,” the preacher continued, “for we are all
children of Earth. Though we wander the stars as strangers in a
strange land, that sacred memory—that spark of divinity—lies deep
within our hearts.”

“
Who is this man?” Jalil
wondered aloud, to no one in particular.

“
The Master Rumiya,” said
an old toothless man in threadbare robes beside him. “Have you
heard of him, son?”

“
No. Should I
have?”

The man put a bony, trembling hand on
Jalil’s shoulder and pointed with his other. “Watch and learn, for
there stands a holy man of God!”

Jalil squinted as he peered over the
heads of the crowd. The “master” was a short man, dressed in a
simple white robe. Though his head was balding, he wore a thick
black beard that stretched from his ears across his mouth and face.
The most striking thing, however, was the passion that he exuded.
Everything about him, from the way he gestured with his hands to
the fervent timbre of his voice, seemed to be filled with
energy.

“
Has he been preaching for
long?” Jalil asked

The old man chuckled. “Longer than
you’ve been alive, son.”

I only meant for the
day,
Jalil thought to himself, but figured
it was better not to mention it. Mira stared at the master as if
entranced, and Jalil edged protectively closer to her.

“
Some of you are pilgrims
on your way to the Noble Shrine,” the master continued, “and that
is commendable. But what do you hope to find there? An answer to an
urgent prayer? A closer connection with those you love? The peace
and holiness of Earth?”

A few scattered shouts arose in the
affirmative, but Rumiya waved his hand downward as if to cast them
away.

“
No!” he shouted. “Why do
you feel you must search outside yourselves for these things? Is a
man merely the sum of his flesh? Or is the mind merely an elaborate
machine, marching down a path as inevitable as computer circuitry?
No—Allah is within us; Earth is within us. I am the Truth, you are
the Truth—we are all, each of us, the Truth. Whatever it is that
you seek, it is not to be found at the Temple, but in the act of
the pilgrimage, for the Truth already lies within you.”

Jalil tensed as he fingered the
pendant under his shirt. A low murmur arose from the crowd—a murmur
that reflected his own uneasiness. How could the answers he was
seeking for not lie at the end of his journey?

“
Perhaps you say that I
speak blasphemy,” Rumiya continued. “I teach that each of us
possesses the divine spark, but, you wonder, is that not to say
that Allah dwells in vessels of sin? For all of us have sinned,
have we not? Our flesh hungers for evil, the way a pig hungers for
the refuse in its trough. All of us are sinners; all of us fall
short of Allah’s perfection.

“
But friends—is it not
written that there must be an opposition in all things? Light would
not be light if there were no darkness, neither could there be
happiness without sorrow. Was the Earth of legend
perfect?”

“
Yes,” Jalil muttered, “of
course it was.” He didn’t realize he’d spoken until Mira glanced
over her shoulder at him.

The master paced across the podium,
completely caught up in the passion of his speech. “No!” he
shouted. “I tell you, it was not. It was a place of great evil—yet
in the fullness of times, it was caught away into Paradise. And
why? Because even when it was evil, the glory of Allah was within
it.”

Jalil shifted uneasily. He noticed
that several of the people in the crowd didn’t seem very happy with
Rumiya’s preaching. Most of the townspeople stood with their arms
folded, frowning and shaking their heads.

“
Even so, each of you
carries a piece of Earth within you—the fullness of both evil and
godliness. And even as the Earth was caught away and became the
celestial dwelling place, so each of you, no matter how lost in the
evils of this universe, has the power to rise above and see the
very face of Allah.”

“
Let’s go,” said Jalil. He
tugged at Mira’s arm, and she reluctantly came away with
him.

* * * * *

The twilight had all but faded, and
the desert air was starting to cool when Mira climbed out of her
bedroom window and into the dimly lit alley. She pulled her cloak
tightly around her and hurried off before anyone saw her
leave.

It had been two weeks since their
arrival at Cousin Sarah’s and every day was proving more difficult
than the last. Every time she went out, she felt assaulted on all
sides by unfamiliar sights and sounds. The never-ending crowd of
strangers in the central square pressed in so close that no matter
where she went, she felt as if she were drowning. And yet, to stay
alone inside, with nothing to do but pine for home—that was even
worse. More than anything, she missed the company of her sisters:
Lena, with her smooth and balanced grace; Surayya, with her
hilariously exaggerated mannerisms; Amina, with her shrewd, witty
banter; clumsy Alia and emotional Majd, with shy Rina, the youngest
and yet the closest to her. The craggy mountains and rust-red
landscape seemed almost to call to her, pulling her back to the
only place where she belonged.

And yet, when she thought
on her mother’s last words, terror gripped her so tightly she
almost felt as if she would choke.
Don’t
come back without him.
Shira
had never given a
threat she couldn’t make good on, and Mira didn’t doubt that this
one was as real as the others.

She walked quickly through the
half-empty streets until she was at the outskirts of town, where
the wind blew stiffly off the ridge and the windmills cut silently
through the air. All she wanted was to get away for a little
while—just a little while. She’d be back before they knew she was
gone.

As she walked, she couldn’t help but
think about the preacher she and Jalil had heard the other day.
She’d learned from Sarah that he was a Sufi Master from the inner
domes nearest to the temple. He’d come to the desert on a sort of
reverse pilgrimage, to seek inspiration in the barren wastes far
from the distractions of “civilized” society. Now that he’d
returned, he was spending some time in and around Aliet Dome to
share his teachings. He had created something of an uproar; so
much, in fact, that a few extremist factions were calling for his
death. Because his disciples feared for his life, he would be
taking a suborbital shuttle back to the temple in a couple of
days.

Unconsciously, she wandered in the
direction of the field where she’d heard him preach. The ridge gave
her a magnificent view of the valley and the giant glass mountain,
while behind her, the giant windmills turned in perfect unison.
Overhead, the stars and satellites slowly came out as the twilight
deepened, while by her feet, a few stunted shrubs clung to the
rocks the way her heart still clung to her desert home.

“
Beautiful, isn’t it?”
came a man’s voice to her right. “Would you believe that under the
domes, the nights are starless?”

Mira jumped and turned to see a short,
balding man in white robes walking beside her. She’d been so caught
up in her own thoughts that she hadn’t heard him
approach.

“
I’m sorry,” he said,
giving her a friendly smile. “I was just out for a little walk.
Mind if I join you?”

The thought of walking alone with a
man seemed a bit odd, but he seemed as harmless as Old Zeid. She
shook her head.

“
No, not at
all.”

“
Good,” said the old man,
falling into step with her. He had a light in his eye that looked
familiar, though she couldn’t quite place it.

“
Are you from the desert?”
she asked.

“
No, my dear; I’m actually
from a small town not far from here.”

“
In Aliet
Dome?”

“
Yes, in Aliet Dome.” He
sighed. “It’s been so long since I’ve been back. Too
long.”