Desert Stars (12 page)

Mira realized with a start that the
man was Master Rumiya.

“
Oh!” she blurted. “I’m
sorry, I didn’t—”

“
Sorry?” Master Rumiya
asked, smiling at her. “Sorry for what? You’ve done nothing to
apologize for.”

“
I know, I just—I didn’t
know who you were.”

“
And now that you do, does
it make any difference?”

Mira didn’t know how to respond. She
considered dropping to her knees to bow to the holy man, but
somehow that didn’t seem appropriate.

“
It doesn’t, you know,”
Rumiya continued. “I’m no greater than you. Whatever holiness you
see in me, you can certainly find it in yourself.”

Mira nodded.
God-willing.

They fell back into step, walking
along a path that led to the edge of the ridge. Up ahead, the glass
mountain rose to a distant plateau, unnaturally high and flat. The
air above it still rippled and shimmered with the heat of the day,
making the stars appear to dance on the edge of the
horizon.

“
You know,” said Rumiya,
“I was only a boy when I left this place.”

“
A boy?”

“
Yes—about your age, in
fact. Strange, how little things have changed.”

“
Why did you leave?” Mira
asked.

Rumiya sighed. “Why does anyone leave
the place of their birth? I felt that something in my life was
missing. I searched all over this world and across the stars for
the thing that would make me feel whole, but never found it until I
looked in my own heart.”

For some reason, his comments made her
think of Jalil. As she thought of how he wanted to return to his
home across the stars, her hands began to shake.

“
Then why did you ever
leave?”

“
No place in this universe
is great enough to contain a man’s soul. We are all strangers in
this mortal plane, searching for something we cannot find until we
are called back to the Earth of Paradise.”

“
But what about your
family?” Mira asked, arguing as much with herself as with Rumiya.
“Didn’t you have someone else to live for? Some reason to stay with
those you loved?”

“
Oh, I’m sure I did,” he
said, “but how can one truly know himself without leaving
home?”

Mira took a deep breath to calm
herself. Her heart pounded in her chest as she considered her
words.

“
Is that the only way to
find it, then?”

“
An excellent question,”
said Rumiya, “one which my colleagues at the temple never tire of
debating. We all have our separate answers, but I believe it comes
to this: each of us lives in the world of our own
choosing.”

Mira frowned. “What do you
mean?”

“
Most of us go about our
lives believing that we are not in control—that some outside force
in our lives directs our fate. And yet this is never
so.”

“
But how?”

Master Rumiya smiled. “Because each of
us sees the world as part of a story—a story in which each of us is
the hero. It may be a tragedy, or a drama, or even a comedy, but
whatever it is, the meaning of that story is no more or less than
what we have chosen to make of it.”

Even in the darkness, his eyes gleamed
with a noticeable passion. Mira remained silent, not wanting to
interrupt him.

“
To truly understand the
holiness that is within you,” he continued, “you must understand
and accept the deepest desires of your heart. Do not deny them;
they are not unholy, for you are a child of Earth, and the Truth of
Allah dwells within you.”

“
But what about the people
I love?” she asked softly. “What if they leave me?”

What if Jalil leaves
me?

Master Rumiya put both hands on her
shoulders and looked her straight in the eye. “Few truly understand
the deepest desires of their hearts,” he said. “They chase after
empty dreams, not realizing that such things will only bring them
misery. Deep within your heart, what is it you truly desire? To
live out your days at home with your family? To marry the boy you
love? Or do you hunger for something that remains to be
revealed?”

“
I don’t know!” Mira cried
out, surprising herself with the forcefulness of her own voice. “I
don’t know what I want. What should I do?”

“
Seek out the desires of
your heart, child. And when you find them, have the inner strength
to follow them, no matter what the dictates and wishes of others
may be. Then will you find your truth—the Truth that is in you.
Your Earth, your home, your paradise.”

Mira opened her mouth to say
something, but she stopped short. Her head was spinning, and she
didn’t know what to think anymore.

Sarah and Jalil have
probably realized that I sneaked out by now,
she realized.
I need to get back
before they get worried.

“
Thank you for your
advice,” she said, “but I have to go.”

“
I understand.”

“
Will we meet again?” she
asked hopefully.

Rumiya sighed and shook his head. “I’m
afraid today was my last sermon. Persecution has forced me to move
on.”

“
But I’m on the
pilgrimage—maybe we’ll see each other along the way?”

His face lit up. “Perhaps. Let it be
as Allah wills it.”

“
Yes,” said Mira. She
turned and started back down the path towards the town.
“Goodbye.”

“
Goodbye, child. And
remember—you are the Truth!”

* * * * *

The days could not pass quickly enough
for Jalil. Granted, it wasn’t uncommon for travelers in the desert
to spend weeks—sometimes even months—at a time as guests in a
foreign place. If the only thing keeping them near Aliet Dome was
respect for their cousin’s hospitality, he could have borne it
without complaint. But this matter of acquiring documents—of
needing someone else’s permission to go about his business—that he
could not stand. It seemed like such a needless obstacle, when all
he wanted was to leave this world for his true home out among the
stars.

Eventually, however, the documents
were processed, and the day of departure arrived. That morning,
Sarah saw them off as far as the edge of the ridge, where the main
highway descended the rocky cliffs in a series of hairpin turns
before crossing the valley to the enormous black mass of Aliet
Dome. She didn’t have a vehicle to carry them, and even though it
was several miles to the border, Jalil had had decided it would be
cheaper to walk than to take the over-priced shuttle to the border
crossing.

“
Farewell,” said Sarah,
embracing Jalil and kissing him on both cheeks. “May Allah bless
and keep you both.”

“
And you as well,” said
Jalil. “Thank you so much for everything.”

She smiled and turned to Mira.
“Goodbye, my darling,” she said as they embraced. “It was so
wonderful to see you—may Allah bless you on your
journey.”

“
And may Allah keep you as
well,” Mira said, embracing her cousin.

Sarah leaned in close and whispered
something in Mira’s ear that Jalil couldn’t quite catch. Mira’s
cheeks flushed red, and Sarah laughed.

“
What was that?” Jalil
asked Mira once they were out of earshot.

“
Nothing,” she said
quickly. “Nothing at all.”

* * * * *

We all live in the world
of our own choosing,
Mira thought to
herself as she and Jalil made the long and circuitous descent to
the valley. If she could have her choice, she would rather be safe
at home, surrounded by family and familiarity. But then she thought
about Jalil leaving the camp and realized that without him, her
dream would be empty. Father would marry her off one day, after
all, and unless she married Jalil, she would most likely be forced
to leave her home forever. If that was true, the only way to follow
the desires of her heart was to endure as best she could and make
Jalil fall in love with her.

Several large vehicles passed them on
the way down: massive cargo trucks and oversized hovercars, kicking
up dust as they rushed past them. By the time they reached the
valley floor, the sun was already well above the lip of the glass
mountain. Mira pulled her headscarf tighter around her head for
protection, while Jalil raised his hand to block the
sunlight.

Ahead of them stood the vast bulk of
the glass mountain, rising almost vertically from the rocky ground
until it filled their view. Its face was black and unnaturally
smooth, unlike anything that Mira had ever seen. Sunlight
reflecting off its face cast strange patterns of shimmering light
all around them, giving the place an otherworldly feel.

“
What’s on your mind?” he
asked as they walked along the dusty roadside.

“
I don’t know,” she said.
“What the world in the bottle looks like on the inside, I
guess.”

“
Hamza called it Babylon,”
he said, looking off into the distance.

“
What are you thinking
about?” she asked.

Jalil turned to face her again. “Have
you ever seen pictures of the temple?”

“
Only the one in the camp.
It looks very pretty.”

“
It’s enormous, too. I
hear you can see it from space.”

“
Truly?”

“
Yes,” he said, eyes lit
with excitement. “Every couple hundred years, they add a new layer
to the structure. Since it’s surrounded on all sides by glass
mountains, the only way to build is up.”

“
That’s
fascinating.”

“
The oldest layers are at
the bottom, though. That’s where the Holy Archives are.”

“
Of course.”

They walked for a little while in
silence.

“
Why do you want to make
the pilgrimage so badly?” Jalil asked.

The question caught Mira completely
off guard. She hesitated, unsure what to say.

“
I-I’ve always wanted to,”
she said. “Since I was little.”

The lie made her cringe.

“
Really?”

“
Yes,” she said, looking
away. “It’s like what Master Rumiya said—we all have a piece of
Earth in us.”

“
And what is that supposed
to mean?”

He sees right through
me,
Mira thought fearfully to herself.
Sweat clung to the back of her neck, and she struggled in vain to
think of some reply.

“
I’m sorry,” Jalil said,
noticing her discomfort. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“
That’s all right,” she
whispered.
Perhaps not.

They walked on in silence until they
came to an enormous door at the base of the mountain. A long line
of vehicles had formed in front of it, and a steady stream of
traffic drove out, heading back the way they had come.

“
What now?” she
asked.

“
I suppose we
wait.”

* * * * *

The wait took the better part of the
morning, until the air was hot and both of them were covered in
sweat and dust. Jalil could hardly stand it. Was there no end to
the delays these people seemed determined to make him
endure?

Eventually, however, they came to the
gate outside the door, where a man with a gun directed them to a
small stone building with barred windows. He eyed Jalil’s rifle
with a half-interested glance but otherwise seemed supremely
bored.

Inside the building, several men sat
behind a handful of desks with built-in computer terminals. They
wore creased, button-up white uniforms, and each kept a plasma
pistol at his belt. Jalil and Mira passed through a long line of
travelers, until one of the officials became available.

“
Passport datachip,” said
the man without looking up from his computer. He spoke the desert
tongue with a thick, foreign accent, slurring several of his words.
Jalil handed over his passport, as Sarah had instructed
him.

The man squinted as he examined it.
“Name?”

“
Jalil
Al-
Shadiyd Ibn Sathi Ibn Yusif
Al-
Najoumi
Saharat
Al-
Gharab
Al-
Gaiani
Al-
Jadida.”

The man looked up from the screen and
raised his eyebrows. “Jalil, eh? Is that the name you go
by?”

Jalil scowled. “Yes, that will
suffice.”

“
Very well, Jalil. Please
place your baggage on the platform and step this way.”

He motioned with his hand to a white
circle on the floor. Jalil put down his duffel bag and walked onto
the circle.

As soon as he had walked away, a
smooth, ring shaped device about half his size came out of the wall
and floated just over his duffel bag. Nearly a dozen long, spindly
arms jutted out from the machine’s underside and began prodding at
the bag with a myriad of unrecognizable instruments.