Desert Stars (22 page)

Tourists?
Jalil wondered, perplexed.
What are tourists doing at such a holy site?
He knew people who had sacrificed almost
everything to come to this place—what had these
tourists
sacrificed?

After nearly an hour, they made it
through security and entered the ancient hall. Lamps, icons,
images, and gilded decorations covered the walls. Smoke and incense
filled the air, making Mira cough. In the center of the room sat a
small metal structure, shaped almost like the wreckage of the ship
that had brought Jalil to this world. His heart beat a little
faster, but the noisy crowd had formed yet another line that
completely circled the small building. Priests dressed in rich,
ornate vestments guarded the structure and managed the
crowd.

“
Is this it?” asked Mira.
“The source of all human knowledge?”

“
The repository of all the
wisdom of Earth,” he said, correcting her.

“
It looks—kind of
small.”

Jalil opened his mouth to reply, but
didn’t know what to say. He had to admit that it wasn’t at all like
he’d expected it to be.

The line moved excruciatingly slowly;
if it weren’t for the sacredness of the place, Jalil would have
cursed the wait. Instead, he swallowed his frustration as best he
could. He’d traveled nearly nine thousand miles in the past month
to come here; he could wait a little longer.

After what felt like an eternity, they
made it to the door of the ancient repository.

“
Is this the Holy
Archives?” he asked one of the priests.

The man gave him a look of annoyance.
“Yes. Move along.”

Before Jalil could pull out his
pendant, he ushered them into the small building.

The incense was twice as strong here,
and the light significantly dimmer. When Jalil’s eyes had adjusted,
he squinted and frowned at the strangeness of the sight before
him.

The inside of the building was one
small room, with twenty cylindrical pillars scattered about in the
middle. Each pillar was about three feet in diameter and ten feet
high. Though they were clearly made of metal, the sheen had long
since worn smooth. Worshipers knelt or prostrated themselves in
prayer, while others closed their eyes and placed their hands on
the pillars as if in some kind of trance. Some even kissed the
objects, leaving sloppy wet marks on the surface.

What’s going on?
Jalil wondered. He found a priest and tapped him
on the shoulder.

“
Excuse me,” he asked,
“what are—”

“
Shh!” hushed the priest.
“Don’t you know where you are?”

Jalil frowned. “The Holy
Archives?”

“
Yes. Be respectful of the
venerators.”

Am I not a venerator
myself?

“
What are the pillars?” he
asked.

The priest hissed in displeasure. “The
memory databanks of the holy archive,” he whispered. “The data
storage units that the forefathers brought with them from Earth.
Are you sure you know where you are?”

I thought I did,
Jalil thought silently to
himself
.
He
hesitated for a moment before pulling out his pendant. If he was
going to ask, now was the time.

“
Excuse me,” he whispered.
“I have a question.”

The priest raised an eyebrow.
“Yes?”

“
My mother left me this
pendant before she—well, it’s a long story. I need to unlock the
data that’s inside, but no one I’ve met has ever been able to do
so. I came here because I knew that if anyone could do it, it would
be the priests of the Holy Archives. Please, can you help
me?”

The priest took the pendant and looked
it over. After a few brief seconds, he handed it back to
Jalil.

“
Where are you from,
son?”

“
I’m a tribesman from the
deserts.”

The priest whistled softly. “That
explains it. Son, you can take this to any data storage dealer in
any city. It’s an offworld design, but it doesn’t look all that
unusual.”

Jalil’s legs went weak, and a wave of
dizziness swept over him. “But—but this is the source of all
Earthly knowledge and wisdom. I thought—”

“
I’m sorry,” said the
priest, putting his hand on Jalil’s shoulder. “You mustn’t take
that literally. Three thousand years ago, these storage banks
carried the sum total of all Earthly knowledge, but they stopped
working ages ago. The data they carried can be found in any of the
universities, libraries, and other repositories across the empire.
These empty shells are holy artifacts—nothing more.”

Jalil didn’t know what to say. The
room suddenly felt hot and cramped.

“
Thank you,” he mumbled.
He took Mira by the hand and left before the priest could
answer.

“
What did he say?” she
asked.

“
He said he can’t help
me.”

“
What does that
mean?”

Jalil’s cheeks felt hot with anger and
embarrassment. “It means that I’ve wasted my time. I’ve wasted your
time. This whole trip—it was all a big, damn waste of our
lives.”

“
Oh.”

They left the domed chamber and walked
briskly down the vaulted hallway, back toward the elevator. Along
the way, they passed a group of tourists taking pictures of one of
the gold-framed images in the hall. The sight made Jalil want to
scream, but he stormed past them in silence.

“
So this is it?” asked
Mira.

“
Yes.”

“
This is
goodbye?”

Jalil didn’t dignify her remark with
an answer.

* * * * *

The ride to Nawal’s house felt
surreal, like something from a dream. Mira stared out the window
the entire time, watching as the ivory white tower of the temple
grew steadily smaller behind them. They passed through the glass of
Terra 2 Dome, and the featureless ground became a ceiling far above
the clouds. She caught her breath at the sight and gripped her
chair in alarm, but Jalil made no move to comfort her or ask if she
was all right. Part of her felt relieved to be left to herself,
while the rest of her wanted to cry.

Terra 2 Dome was completely unlike any
other dome that Mira had yet seen. The landscape below was a giant
ocean, stretching from the base of the glass wall to the edge of
the horizon. Her eyes widened at the sight, and she pressed her
face up against the window to get a better view. Here was more
water than she’d seen in her entire life—more than she’d ever
thought could exist. As they descended, the surface rippled in the
golden light of the sun, diffused by the glass and
clouds.

The train didn’t slow at all, but
raced at full speed down towards the water’s surface. Mira gasped
and covered her eyes as they passed through; the hum of the wind
outside the window jumped in pitch, but she felt no shock. When she
opened her eyes again, she found that they were traveling through a
long glass tunnel, giving her a view of the ocean floor. To her
surprise, the underwater scene was teeming with life and color.
Craggy red and white formations reached up toward the wavy blue
surface above, while creatures of all shapes and sizes floated
about in the midst of the surreal aquatic landscape. A cloud passed
overhead, and Mira caught sight of it long enough to tell that it
was actually a flock of tiny blue-green creatures all swimming in
sync with each other. Though everything passed in a blur, she
stared out in wonder at it all, turning her head from side to side
to catch fragmentary glimpses.

Look!
she wanted to say to Jalil.
Isn’t it
beautiful?
Instead, she held her tongue.
It was easier than trying to bridge the wall that had come between
them—easier, and yet infinitely harder.

Like the seascape before her, time
passed in a blur. Eventually, however, the ground rose and the
train broke out to skim the surface of the ocean. It slowed as they
approached an island of rust-colored rock and lush green forest,
interspersed with picturesque red stone buildings. Perhaps, Mira
mused, if an ocean of water covered the desert, leaving only the
highest mountain crags poking through, it would one day look like
this. Oddly enough, for that reason alone the sight reminded her
more of her home than anything she had yet seen.

The train came to a gradual stop at a
station built of red shale and sandstone. Mira and Jalil were the
only ones to disembark. The salty sea air blew across her face as
she stepped out, pleasantly cool and moist. She loosened her
headscarf and breathed it in, fresh and clean.

With a hum, the train left the
platform and descended once more beneath the sea, leaving a
peaceful silence broken only by the cries of the large white birds
in the sky and the breaking of the waves on the beach. It was like
a tiny piece of heaven.

A heaven which she did not
deserve.

She followed Jalil wordlessly down the
black cobblestone avenues of the beautiful village. A few miniature
hovercars passed them by, but most of the people here walked rather
than drove. Small, eclectic shops lined the main street, with
tables beneath colorful awnings to display their various wares. It
reminded her a little of the open-air market in New Amman. A small
girl in a pretty blue dress stood behind a cart full of beautiful
flowers, selling them to passersby. A young boy in a leather vest
and checkered cap sold delicious-smelling pastries outside of a
small brick shop. Everyone here seemed so happy and content,
smiling as they talked with each other.

As Mira’s mind wandered, she imagined
spending the rest of her life with Jalil in a place like this.
Everything seemed so simple and peaceful here; no warlords or
bombings, blood feuds or tribal jealousies. The land and sea were
rich and full of life, the air cool and deliciously wet against her
skin. With relatives such as Nawal nearby, she could settle in this
place and be happy.

The thought brought bitter tears to
her eyes as she realized it would never happen. Even so, she held
on to them, as if her fantasies could offer some meager substitute
for the awful reality she faced.

At length, they arrived at Nawal’s
house. Jalil knocked on the old wooden door, while down by their
feet a brown cat eyed them before returning to licking its paws.
After a few moments, the door swung open, revealing a short, middle
aged woman with graying hair.

“
Eh?” she said, frowning.
“Who are you?”

“
Jalil Ibn Sathi
Al-
Najmi. Are you
Nawal?”

Recognition dawned on her face. “Ah,
yes—come in, come in.” Mira started to step inside, but Jalil
remained at the door.

“
I’m sorry,” he said, “but
I must be going.”

At his words, Mira’s stomach
fell.

“
What?” Nawal exclaimed.
“But you’ve only just arrived!”

“
Take this back to your
father,” said Jalil, handing the heirloom rifle to Mira. She was
about to protest, but the cold expression on his face cut her
short. She accepted it without a word.

“
What nonsense is this?”
Nawal exclaimed. “Please, come in—I’ve made some dinner, and
there’s more than enough for both of you.”

“
I’m so sorry,” said
Jalil, “but I can’t stay. The last train leaves in twenty
minutes.”

“
But you’re more than
welcome to—”

“
I really should be
going,” he said adamantly. “I wish I could stay, but I have a prior
engagement.”

What prior
engagement?
Mira wondered, cringing at
Jalil’s blatant rudeness. He didn’t sound like himself at
all.

Nawal argued with him for a few
minutes, but Jalil refused to give, and in the end she was forced
to concede. With her hands on her hips, Nawal clucked and stepped
inside.

“
All right, dear,” she
said to Mira. “Come along.”

“
Wait!” cried Mira,
running after Jalil. He was already heading down the street, about
to leave without saying goodbye.

He stopped and looked up at
her.

“
Yes?”

Her hands trembled, and her eyes were
blurry with tears. “So this is it,” she said quietly. “This is
goodbye.”

“
Yes,” said Jalil. He
didn’t say anything else.

Before he could stop her, she flung
her arms around his neck and gave him a parting hug. He hesitated
for a moment, but he did put his arms around her—weakly, as if
holding her at a distance. She bit her lip to keep from
shaking.

“
I’m so sorry,” she cried,
surprised by the forcefulness in her voice. “I’m sorry for
everything. Please, Jalil—please forgive me!”

“
Of course I forgive you,”
he said. “But I have to go now.”

No,
she wanted to scream.
You don’t have
to leave. We can work things out—we can make everything work
out.

Instead, she said nothing.