Desert Stars (25 page)

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Authors: Joe Vasicek

Tags: #love, #adventure, #honor, #space opera, #galactic empire, #colonization, #second chances, #planetary romance, #desert planet, #far future

BOOK: Desert Stars
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Jalil took the stylus and glanced back
down at the contract.

Here goes
nothing.

He marked an ’x’ on the line at the
bottom of the screen and handed back the pad and stylus.


Excellent,” said Mark. He
smiled and offered Jalil his hand. “It’s good to have you with us,
Gavin.”

 

* * * * *

 

Twenty minutes later, they were
airborne. Jalil sat in the second row, just behind Mark and
Michelle who sat in the pilot’s and copilot’s seats. The engines
hummed as the smooth, glassy landscape passed beneath them,
reflecting the deep blue tint of the cloudless sky
overhead.


Attention orbital
control,” said Mark, speaking into a transmitting device. “This
is
Bridgette One
requesting permission for orbital insertion.”


Copy,” came a voice over
the speaker. “Taxi into position and await further
instructions.”

Michelle looked over her shoulder at
Jalil. “Make sure you’re fastened in nice and tight. This next
part’ll be a bit rocky.”

Jalil ran his hands over the enormous
seat restraints around his waist and shoulders, making sure they
were secure. His heart beat a little faster as he looked out the
forward window at the sea of glass before them.

There are clouds under
that glass,
he thought to himself.
We’re flying almost a mile above the
clouds.


Roger,
Bridgette One,
” came the
controller’s voice. “You are cleared for orbital insertion. Proceed
to escape velocity at present altitude.”


Copy,” said Mark. “How
are we looking, ‘Chelle?”


Everything’s good to
go.”


Great. Let’s fly this
bird home.”

The shuttle banked hard to the right,
giving Jalil a clear view of Terra 2 Dome. The sun reflected hard
off of the glassy surface, making him squint, but where the glare
of the sun wasn’t so bright, he thought he could see the outlines
of clouds above the ocean. He looked a little harder, and realized
that he could see the islands as well. From high up in the air,
they looked almost like boulders sitting in the midst of a sandy
wash, as seen from the top of a high mountain.

Mira is probably on one of
those islands,
he realized. A lump welled
up in his throat as images from the past few months flashed across
his memory. The two of them chatting at Lena’s wedding; the night
at Sarah’s, sharing the blanket in the chill night under the light
of the stars and satellites. He remembered her warm smile as she
cooked for him and the others under Etilan Dome, and a deep
yearning welled up inside of him—a yearning that made him wonder if
he wasn’t making a mistake to leave her. It was bizarre: only a few
months ago, she had been just another sister—a beautiful sister,
but a sister nonetheless. Now, what was she to him? He didn’t know
exactly, but it was clear she was something more.

As his thoughts wandered, memories of
the night at the spaceport came to him, stabbing him like a knife
to the chest. He cringed as he remembered how she’d straddled him,
slipping off her clothes like the whores at the cantina. How close
he’d come to defiling her that night—to defiling himself. And to
think that her parents had set it all up—if that was true, what did
it make all the other moments that they’d shared? Was it all just a
lie?

He clenched his fists and stared out
the window at the flat horizon, putting those thoughts out of his
head. Whatever had happened before, it was over now. He had a new
life ahead of him—a life far from the Najmi family.

The shuttle leveled off again.
“Beginning stage one acceleration,” said Michelle. “Stand
by.”

The pitch of the engines shifted up
two or three octaves. The roar increased steadily until it drowned
out everything else. Jalil covered his ears with his hands and felt
the force of the acceleration press him back against his
chair.


We’re at mach three,”
said Michelle. “Engaging ramjets.”

The roar of the engine died suddenly,
replaced by a lower, quieter sound. The pressure against Jalil’s
chest, however, increased steadily. He glanced out the window from
where he sat, but all he could see was the sky, lighter on the
horizon and darkening rapidly above their heads.


Mach five,” said
Michelle. “Engaging scramjets in three, two, one…”

A mighty roar sounded beneath them,
and the whole shuttle began to shake. Jalil grabbed his armrests as
the invisible hand pressed him against his seat with double, then
triple, then more than quadruple the force as before. His cheeks
pulled back against his face, exposing his cheeks and gums, and it
seemed for a moment as if he were lying on his back, traveling
straight up. It was the strangest sensation he’d yet felt, and it
disoriented him so much that he had to stare at the horizon ahead
to keep from panicking.

As he did so, the shuttle nosed
suddenly up, and he felt as if his bowels had dropped out from
underneath him. For a few frightening seconds, the world went
black. Gradually, his sight returned and his bodily sensations
returned to normal.

After a little over a minute, the roar
slowly faded into silence. Outside, the familiar blueness of the
sky had completely disappeared, replaced by a blackness deeper than
night.

He took in a deep breath and wiped his
forehead, but when he relaxed his arm, it didn’t fall back to the
armrest. He glanced up at Michelle and saw that her hair was waving
lazily, as if she were submerged in water.

He looked out the forward window and
gasped. The horizon traced a bowed arc, glowing bright blue where
it met the black velvet of the starless night sky. Clouds of white
gathered in swirls across the deep red backdrop of the desert,
while seemingly miniature mountain ranges traced their way from the
horizon to the blue-black domes that covered half the planet. Above
them, the sun shone like a brilliant yellow orb.


Orbital insertion
complete,” said Michelle. “Switching to extra-planetary
propulsion.”


Good work,” said Mark.
“‘Chelle, do you have a bearing on the
Bridgette?


Yup. She’s just up ahead,
bearing two degrees. We’ll intercept in about twenty
minutes.”


Excellent,” said Mark.
“Hail the boys and prepare to dock.”

Jalil looked out past the domes at the
bare red desert below. Somewhere down there was the Najmi camp—and
with it, the wreckage of the ship that had brought him to this
world. He scanned the landscape long and hard, but nothing looked
familiar—not from this distance.

A movement caught his eye. He twisted
his head—carefully, in the weightlessness of space—and saw a small
speck against the shimmering backdrop of the planetary
domes.

That’s another
starship,
he realized, not sure how he
knew it.
We’re flying parallel to
it—otherwise, it would rush past us so fast we wouldn’t even see
it.

As he watched, the shuttle gradually
drew close enough to make out more details. The starship was shaped
like a short, slightly flattened rifle barrel, tapering towards the
front and widening towards the back. Its hull was a light gray
color, with a line of dark, narrow windows running down the
top.


Attention,
Bridgette.
This
is
Bridgette One,
” said Michelle. “Open the docking bay, if you’d be so
kind.”


Copy,” came a boy’s voice
over the intercom. “How are you doing, ‘Chelle?”


Doing great,” said
Michelle. “We’ve picked up an extra crewman for you to
train.”


What the—are you serious?
Who is he?”

Mark laughed. “We’ll chat once we’re
all on board.”


Right on, right on. The
bay’s open; syncing now.”

The ship drew closer, filling their
view. The open bay was at the rear of the ship, near the
engines.

The puffing sound of small jets broke
the silence as Michelle maneuvered them in. Gradually, they inched
forward until they were inside. Jalil gripped his armrests, and the
sound of metal scraping against metal rung softly through the
walls.

I’ve heard that sound
before,
he realized.


Docking complete,” said
Michelle as she and Mark unfastened their seat
restraints.


Copy,” came the voice.
“Airlocks engaged; beginning decompression.”

Mark turned to Jalil and
offered his hand. “Welcome to the
Bridgette.

Chapter 12

 


Here we are—do you need a
little help with that, dear?”


Yes, please,” Mira
whispered, handing the heavier of her two bags to Nawal. Her aunt
had filled it with gifts almost to the point of bursting: a tin
full of sweets and jams, a bag full of new clothes, seashells for
her sisters, and a pair of swords with fine coral handles for her
father. Nawal grunted as she hefted it up and led the way through
the glass doors into the spaceport.

Mira was too absorbed in her own
melancholy thoughts to pay much attention to the sights around her.
The past few days had passed in a teary-eyed blur, leaving her
empty and numb. The only thing she felt was the weight of the
heirloom rifle strapped across her back—the gift from her father
that Jalil had rejected; just like he had rejected her. Part of her
wanted to throw it away, but honor demanded that she bring it
home—the same honor that she’d sacrificed to snare the man she
loved.

In time, they arrived at the ticketing
kiosk. Attendants put the bags and the rifle on a conveyor belt,
while Nawal pulled out a cash datachip from her purse.


It’s okay,” said Mira.
“You don’t have to pay; I can—”


Nonsense, dear; I’m not
so poor I can’t help my own family. Besides, you’re much too young
to spend all your money on something as boring as a spaceplane
ticket.”

Mira nodded, and her eyes started to
tear up again. Nawal lived so far from the rest of the tribe, she
probably only saw family whenever someone made the pilgrimage. This
might be the last time they ever saw each other.


I’m sorry,” she
whispered, leaning forward to give her aunt a hug.


There, there,” said
Nawal. “Don’t apologize. I know how you feel—I was once a young
girl too, you know.”

I’ve botched
everything,
Mira wanted to say. Instead,
she nodded and dried her eyes.

The kiosk spat out a plastic card with
a magnetic strip. A strange logo graced the other side, one with
stars and planets.


Take care, dear,” said
Nawal. “May the peace of Earth be upon you.”


And upon you as well,”
Mira whispered.
Even if it never graces
me.

She stepped into the checkpoint and
raised her arms as the security scanners cleared her. It took a
moment for them to check the heirloom rifle, but they returned it
to her without any trouble. When she was through, she glanced back
one last time at her aunt before picking up her carry-on bag and
proceeding through the concourse to her gate.

The noise of the bustling crowds
mingled with announcements from the loudspeaker, all in a foreign
language that Mira couldn’t understand. She pulled her headscarf
tight as the crowds buffeted her like the waters of the ocean
buffeting the island shore.

Just as she found her gate, she
noticed a group of white-robed holy men on the opposite side of the
terminal. She almost turned away without giving it another thought,
but a familiar bald head caught her eye. For a moment she stood
frozen to the spot, but then she was walking across the hall, her
feet carrying her forward almost against her will.


Master Rumiya?” she said,
her voice trembling.

The old sufi master turned to face
her, and his eyes lit up almost immediately. “Why, hello, my child!
You’ve come a long way since last we met.”

Mira nodded silently.


It makes me happy to see
you again. Did you find on your pilgrimage the thing you were
seeking?”

No.

He eyed her for a moment, as if
listening to her thoughts. “You seem troubled,” he said
softly.

You lied to me,
she wanted to say.
You
told me that we all get to choose the world we live in, but I never
chose for Jalil to leave me.


Your teachings aren’t
true,” she blurted. Blood rushed to her cheeks, but her words hung
in the air and she was unable to retract them.

Rumiya paused for a moment, while
heads began to turn in their direction. “How do we know anything is
true?” he answered cryptically.


It’s—it’s not possible,”
she stammered, heart pounding. “How can we all live in the world we
want?”


Ah,” he said, giving her
a knowing smile. “I see you have misunderstood me. I never said we
live in the world we desire—only that we live in the world of our
own choosing.”

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