Desert Stars (36 page)

“
We did it! We did
it!”

“
Are you all right,
‘Chelle? Do you copy?”

“
I copy,” came Michelle’s
voice, noticeably shaken even over the crackle of the static.
“We’re alive.”

“
Haha! We did
it!”

“
Praise Allah,” said
Jalil, unstrapping himself and rising unsteadily to his feet.
“Praise Allah.” In spite of his weak stomach, he managed a
smile.

“
How bad does the damage
look out there, ‘Chelle?” Lars asked.

“
Pretty bad,” she
answered. “But not more than we can handle. Stars of Earth, I can’t
believe we made it.”

“
Bring the shuttle into
the bay,” said Mark. “We’ll take a look at her there.” Without
another word, he collapsed exhausted into his chair.

Praise Allah,
Jalil thought to himself. They were alive—they’d
made it. But the initial exhilaration quickly wore off, leaving a
horrible emptiness in the pit of his stomach. Images of the debris
plumes spreading across the beautiful blue-green planetscape
flashed across his mind. Yes, they had made it—but behind them, an
entire world had died.

Chapter 17

“
So,” Amina asked, “when
are you going to give Ibrahim your answer?”

Mira sighed as she picked another
cucumber from the hydroponic trough and dropped it into the basket
at her hip. A bead of sweat dripped down the side of her face, and
she reached up to wipe it away. The warm humidity of the greenhouse
tent tortured her only slightly less than her younger sister. Even
though Amina hated tending to the crops, she’d somehow been there
waiting for Mira to come inside.

“
Well?”

“
I don’t know,” said Mira,
pulling off another cucumber and dropping it into her
basket.

Amina gave her a sly grin. “Still
playing hard to get, are you?”

Mira stopped and looked up at her.
“Are you here to work or to gossip?”

“
A little of both. I don’t
need my mouth to pick vegetables.”

“
Apparently you don’t need
your hands, either.” Mira glanced meaningfully at her sister’s
empty basket.

Amina shrugged. “What can I say? You
work so hard that there’s hardly anything left to do. Besides, how
much time does it take to pick two rows of cucumbers?”

“
With you helping me, it
might take all day.”

Amina threw back her head and laughed.
“I like the attitude,” she said, nudging Mira with her elbow. “It’s
like you’re finally learning how to speak up for
yourself.”

Mira ignored her and returned to her
work, pulling out a particularly large cucumber and tossing it
forcibly into her basket.

“
Anyway, I’ve got to go.
Be back in a few.”

Without any further explanation, Amina
half-walked, half-ran to the door. Mira was about to ask where she
was going, but before she could get the words out, Amina was
gone.

That’s strange,
Mira thought to herself. With her sister gone,
she turned her full attention to the work in front of her. The
cucumber patch wasn’t very large, but after she was finished there
she still had the beans and nuts to pick, which were a lot more
time consuming. Better to get the easy work out of the way, so at
least she could feel she was making progress.

On the other side of the greenhouse
tent, a small patch of strawberries was just starting to ripen. The
tinge of red caught Mira’s eye, and a lump rose in her throat as
she realized that they were probably meant for her. To have come
along so far, they had to have been planted soon after she had
left—soon after her mother had told her to come back with Jalil by
any means necessary. In other words, the strawberries were a lie.
But was that any different than with Mira’s other sisters? No, Mira
realized bitterly, it wasn’t.

Behind her, the tent door
zipped open.
Must be Amina,
she thought to herself. Hastily wiping her eyes,
she turned to face her sister.

“
Here,” she said, “why
don’t you take this basket out to the kitchen? It’s practically
fu—”

Mira froze, and an electric chill shot
down her spine. It wasn’t Amina who had entered the tent—it was
Ibrahim.

“
Good afternoon, my love,”
he said, stepping casually toward her with a sly grin on his face.
The door quietly fell shut behind him, and his pure white robes
swayed over the ground as he walked. With his dagger hanging from
the brown leather ammunition belt at his waist, he cut a striking
figure.

“
I-Ibrahim!” said Mira,
nearly dropping her basket. She knelt to set it on the ground,
before slipping on her headscarf. “It’s—it’s quite a surprise to
see you.”

“
Is it,
though?”

His hands migrated to his belt,
undoing the buckle as he continued to approach. Mira
frowned.

“
Why are you
here?”

“
I think we both know,” he
said, his voice soft with the barest hint of an edge to it. “You
certainly know how to lead a man on.”

He undid the clasp to his belt and let
it drop to the ground. Mira swallowed nervously.

“
L-lead you on?” she said
uncertainly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Ibrahim threw back his head and
laughed. “Don’t be so modest. I know you’ve received my many
invitations. Lucky for you, I don’t mind having our little tryst
right here.”

You don’t know
anything,
Mira wanted to say, her heart
pounding as she slowly backed away. If anything, though, that only
made him approach faster.

“
Wait,” she said, her
voice barely louder than a raspy whisper. “We need to talk.
I—”

“
Shh, shh, shh,” he said,
touching his finger to her lips. “Don’t waste your
breath.”

He took her by the waist, his grip
firm and unyielding. A shudder passed through her body, and Ibrahim
used his other hand to pull at her headscarf. The cloth fell to her
shoulders, leaving her hair uncovered.

“
Stop that,” she said, her
voice shaking. He only grinned wider.

“
Why?” he asked,
smirking.

“
Because—because we need
to talk first.”

“
Not now, my love.
Later.”

With an urgency born of lust, he
pressed his lips against hers, his hands slipping down to her hips.
Her heart surged with fear, but she couldn’t push him away—not
without risking offense.

“
Stop!” she cried weakly
as they collapsed together onto the dusty ground. He was on top of
her now, his mouth on her neck as his hands hungrily sought their
way beneath her robes. Flashbacks from the horrible night with
Jalil flooded to her mind, and she started thrashing about, trying
to throw Ibrahim off of her. Though she wasn’t able to move him, he
took notice and stopped for a moment.

“
Gently, gently,” he said,
smiling the same sly grin. “Unless that’s how you like
it.”

“
What? No! Ibrahim,
please—”

“
Shh. Trust me; you’ll
enjoy this.”

In that instant, she realized that
there was no gentle way to turn him down anymore. She had to do
something or he was going to rape her.

He took her by the wrists, but before
he could pin her down, she wrenched herself free and kicked him in
the chest. He fell to his side and laughed.

“
Feisty, are we?” he said.
“I like it.”

“
If you don’t stop,” said
Mira, “I’m going to scream. I mean it.”

He lunged for her, knocking over the
tray of hydroponic strawberries. They fell across the dirt floor,
the bright red fruit getting covered with dust and mud.

Mira scrambled to get away, but before
she could, Ibrahim turned her over onto her back. The top of his
robe had come undone, revealing his muscular chest. He took her by
her wrists again, this time pinning her down.

“
You wouldn’t.”

“
Yes, I would,” she
whispered.

The smile on his face started to fade.
“If you do,” he said, “your family will throw you out.”

“
Please,” she said,
“please get off of me.”

He ignored her, letting go of one hand
to undo the buttons on the front of her robe. His fingers worked
deftly, running right between her breasts without any hesitation.
Sweat dripped from his forehead onto her chest.

We all live in the world
of our own choosing,
Master Rumiya’s words
echoed in her mind.
You are the
Truth.

She took in a deep breath. It was now
or never.

As Ibrahim slipped his hand underneath
her robe, she screamed loud enough to make her ears shake. He
hurriedly covered her mouth, but by then it was too
late.

“
You bitch!” hissed
Ibrahim, squeezing her jaw until pain shot through her cheeks.
“You’ll pay for this.”

He let go of her mouth and raised his
hand to strike her, but before he could, the door flap swung
open.

“
Mira? What’s wrong?”
Tiera asked from across the room. The sound of her voice brought
tears of relief to Mira’s eyes.

“
Help!” she screamed.
“He’s raping me!” Instantly, Ibrahim leaped to his feet.

“
Is that true?” Tiera
asked.

“
Of course not,” said
Ibrahim, hastily buttoning his shirt. “This was all just a
misunderstanding.”

“
He tried to rape me,”
Mira said again, pointing a shaky finger at him as she sat up. “I
was doing my chores, when he came in and—”

With rage in his eyes, Ibrahim turned
to strike her, but before he could Tiera stepped between them,
wielding a dagger in one hand.

“
I’ll kill you if you
touch her,” she said, her voice low and dangerous.

Ibrahim regarded her for a moment,
then lowered his fist and scowled. “Why would I? There are whores
who look better than that bitch.”

The insult would have stung more if
Mira’s other sisters hadn’t already gathered by the door. From the
way they stared, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, the balance of power
had clearly shifted in Mira’s favor. Still, Ibrahim walked past
them nonchalantly, as if nothing was wrong—as if raping his
intended fiancée in her own camp was perfectly normal.

Tiera turned and helped Mira to her
feet. “Are you all right?”

Mira didn’t know. Her legs were weak,
and her heart pounded in her chest, making her dizzy. It seemed as
if she were waking up from some sort of dream, only to find herself
lost in another.

“
Come on,” said Tiera.
“Let’s get you somewhere safe.”

Mira hastily rebuttoned
her robe. As they walked through the door, Surayya stared at her
with her hands over her mouth, while Amina folded her arms and
shook her head. Mira could hear her now:
You made a mistake, girl. You should have gone along with
it.

“
Let me out of here,” she
cried, shrugging Tiera off as she ran from their judgmental stares.
She ran blindly through the camp and away across the desert. Their
voices followed her for a while, but the sound soon faded away into
the hot wind. Only when she was out of earshot did she fall to her
knees and bury her head in her hands.

It didn’t change anything that had
happened—or anything that would happen, for that matter. But at
least for that brief moment, alone in the desert, she knew that she
was free.

* * * * *

Jalil ate his tasteless gray porridge
in silence, just as he had for the past few days. Neither Michelle
nor Nash said anything, either. It had been this way ever since
they’d arrived at the jump station half a light-year outside of
Karduna. Though he no longer had to deal with the gut-wrenching
sensation of jumpspace every hour, this waiting almost felt
worse.

“
How long do you think
we’ll be stuck here?” Michelle asked. The sound of her voice broke
the silence like a rifle shot.

“
Don’t know,” said Nash.
“The paperwork is going to be a nightmare, though. Two million
refugees in the first seventy-two hours alone…”

“
Damn.”

The silence returned. For nearly a
minute, no one said anything.

“
You know,” said Michelle,
her voice noticeably softer, “you don’t have to stay, Nash. You’re
an imperial citizen—you could easily take a transport back to Gaia
Nova and get out of this whole mess.”

“
And abandon you?” he
said, setting down his spoon. For several moments, they both stared
at each other.

“
At least you’d be safe,”
said Michelle, turning away. She covered her face with her hand and
took a long breath.

“‘
Chelle,” said Nash,
taking her other hand in both of his own. “‘Chelle, look at me.
It’s okay—we’ll get through this. I promise.”

Jalil rose from his seat and quietly
climbed the ladder to the main corridor. Even though his meal was
unfinished, something told him they needed to be alone.