Spinspace: The Space of Spins (The Metaspace Chronicles Book 2) (10 page)

Chapter 25

Kareef
: Faith and Violence

“...He will make for him a way out and will provide for him from where he does not expect...”

– Quran 65:2

For an Ambassador, Qusay was remarkably conversant with the Book.  To converse with him  was almost like reading from the Quran, for he loved to quote from it.

Kareef confessed to him that he was troubled by his Hajj to the school of Denver.  “How can I go and study peacefully among unbelievers,” he asked, “when so many verses of the Book command us to kill them?  How can I live in peace, when we are told the highest rewards in paradise go to those who fight for Allah?”

Qusay, to his credit, did not laugh or make a joke of this serious and sincere question. “It is a fair question, especially when addressed to one like me, who is sent to be an ambassador to lands in which most, if not all, are disbelievers in the words of Allah.”

Kareef had been about to say something but closed his mouth at these words.  He had been so busy feeling sorry for himself that he had not even thought of the other man's predicament.

“There are those who will tell you that the Prophet, blessings be upon him, lived in a violent time, and that he was trying to do the will of Allah against tremendous odds.  It is very hard to do the will of Allah if you allow yourself to be slain, and so violent times seem to require violent measures.”

“They say the time of the Ancients was a Golden Age, with peace and plenty and no violence,” said Kareef.  “But those days are ended.  Except for such peaceful intervals, has not mankind always lived in violent times?”

Qusay sighed.  “I cannot deny it.  Where there is wealth, there will be fear of loss, and the child of poverty is often greed.” He gazed out the window at the trees they were passing.  “When the poor see the rich and what they have, there is envy, and usually violent attempts to redistribute the excess.”

“But the Faithful do not fight out of greed,” Kareef protested.  “They are called to do battle for Allah the Victorious.”

“There are verses both of peace and of battle within the Book,” said Qusay.  “One of the tests for those who read the Book is that they must discern what is most applicable in any particular circumstance. Allah rewards bravery, but He also rewards mercy and kindness.”

Kareef frowned at this.  “Isn't that just another way of saying we can always find justification for whatever we decide?  Surely there is a stronger argument for one way or the other.”

Qusay shook his head at this.  “There is no course which is true in all storms except faith in Allah.  As you grow, your faith will be tested in many different ways, Kareef.  Do not always answer with violence.  If you are open to the word of God, you will know what is proper in each circumstance.”

That very day bore witness to his words.  While Kareef sat wrapped in his thoughts, wondering why God had sent him on this
Hajj
to a foreign land, the sounds of their travel ceased.  He looked up from a book he had been trying to read, wondering if it was time for a rest stop.

There was a respectful rap on the wagon door.  Qusay reached across his wife to slide back the window on their side.  “What is it?”

“There are men blocking the road ahead.”  There was no need for the man to say more.  As travelers, they had expected this to happen. No one travels without food, money, and supplies, which all bandits know.

Qusay exchanged a look with his wife. 

“Stay in the wagon, Beloved,” she begged.  “The guards can deal with this.  It is their job.”

He touched the side of her face.  “It is their job to guard the caravan,” he agreed.  But he turned to Kareef, who saw clearly that the man intended to get out of the wagon.  Since Qusay had his wife by the other window, that she might have a better view of the countryside and not be sitting between the two men, Kareef opened the door on his side and climbed out to let the Ambassador emerge.  He saw that someone had blocked the road by rolling a wagon across it.

“What are you going to do?”

“I will do what can be done,” said Qusay.  He strode forward to confer with the strangers.  Kareef remained by his door, wondering what the Book would say of this 'particular circumstance'.

“Who the hell are you?” said the man Kareef thought must be their leader. 

“Peace be upon you,” said Qusay.  “I am ambassador to the court of Rado from the Emirates.  You are blocking our path, sir.  Please let us pass.”

“Well, lah-dee-dah.  Looks like it's our lucky day.  Whatcha got in the wagons, Ambassador?”

“Only supplies, books, presents for the Governor, my wife, and a student traveling with us.  Please let us pass now.”

The man looked pained at this.  “Come now, you don't expect to travel for free, do you?  Make it worth our while to move the barrier, and consider yourself lucky.  After all, we could just kill you and take everything.”

Qusay regarded him.  “I'm sure you have bowmen aimed at me.  But surely you know that I came with guards.  Do you think the two you see are all there are?”

The bandit chief rolled his eyes. “Everyone likes to bluff that they have more than you see.  Changes nothing.”

“Were I to make a certain slight gesture,” said Qusay, “the guards who saw your men and peeled off into the woods on either side would make their presence known rather dramatically.  But there is no need for violence.”

“Ha!” said the bandit.  “I have men in the woods too.”

They both heard a sudden strangled cry.

“You have one less, now,” said Qusay.  “I am sorry about that, but I suppose my men wanted you to know I'm not bluffing.  You, sir, have the power to stop this before it becomes worse.  Please clear the road.”

The bandit's eyes flickered left and right.  “I'd prefer not to lose men,” he admitted, “but you must understand that I have a reputation to think of.”

Qusay sighed.  He raised his voice to be heard by all.  “Gentlemen!  I have called upon Allah to end this.  Your leader will fall first.  If the rest of you surrender you will not be harmed.”

The bandit chief laughed.  “A good bluff,” he said.

But soon afterward his eyelids drooped.  He swayed for a few moments, then fell to the ground.

There was another agonized cry from the woods, then silence.  After a minute or so the bushes at the side of the woods parted and guards led four bandits, their hands empty and held high, onto the road.

“If you will be so kind as to remove the barrier,” said Qusay, “we will spare your lives.  I am not a sheriff, and it is not my job to clear the roads of bandits.”

They needed no prodding from the scimitars of the guards to set about the task.  While they heaved the damaged wagon of some less fortunate traveler off the road Qusay turned to one of the guards.  “What happened?”

“One of them was going to shoot you after the leader fell.  We had to prevent it.”

Qusay nodded.  “I am glad you were able to spare the rest.  This is a journey of peace.  I would prefer not to leave a trail of blood and tears all the way to Rado.”

After Qusay had climbed back into the wagon, followed by Kareef, they resumed their travel.  Kareef was looking at the man with a new respect now.  “What happened to the chief?”

Qusay shrugged.  “He was struck down by Allah.”

Kareef grimaced.  “Come on.  We both know you did something.  Doesn't the Book say to always speak the truth?”

“
O you who believe! Keep your duty to Allah and fear Him, and speak (always) the truth.” quoted Qusay.  “Since you ask, I twisted shut a couple of arteries shut that supply blood to his head, but only for a little bit.  With a little luck, he will recover with no more than a headache from it.”

Kareef stared at him.

“Come, now!” said Qusay.  “Did you really think the Order would send you on an important mission without protection?”

Chapter 26

Jeffrey
: quieting madness

“No one is so brave that he is not disturbed by something unexpected.”

– Julius Caesar

The men in the room were not happy.  He was not happy either.

“An alliance with them is madness,” said one, a tall major with many decorations for valor.  “We should attack in force.”

“I have agreed not to,” said Jeffrey.  “It might seem contrary to the spirit of alliance.”

“The Empire does not form
alliances
.  We conquer!”

Jeffrey just looked at him.  “My father might have agreed with you,” he said.  “But he is not here.  He underestimated Rado's resourcefulness, and paid for that with his life.”  He gazed about the office.  “Do you really think that you can do with horses and arrows what he failed to accomplish with tanks and explosives?”  He paused for a few moments to let that sink in.  “This alliance will strengthen Texas and conserve our resources for more important battles.”

Another officer spoke up.  “I have heard that Rado is proposing to try to put together the old Union.  Is this true?  Are you trying to tell us we are no longer the Lone Star Empire, and only a vassal state of Governor Kristana's new Union?”  There were angry murmurings.

“Those of you know know your history,” he said, “know that the old United States was far larger than the territory Texas holds today.  If she is successful in putting most of the old Union together, would you rather be a smaller neighbor...or part of the largest empire in this part of the world?”

Another man snorted.  “She won't succeed.  The Emirates and new Israel will never give up their independence.  Not to mention the Queen of Angeles.  It'll never happen.”

“You might be right. But if so, wouldn't it better to have Rado on our side, than to have to fight the Emirates by ourself?”

He was hoarse and exhausted by the time the officers stomped out of his office.  He wondered how his father had managed it all those years. Were they always this contentious?

An assistant poured him a shot or bourbon.  Jeffrey gulped it, then decided that was a mistake and reached for a glass of iced lemonade to soothe his throat.  “Do I have any more appointments today, Leonard?  I'm bushed.  I can't remember.”

The assistant took the shot glass back from him.  “Just one.  You said you would visit your mother.”

Oh, gods.
  “Tell the Limo driver I'll be down in five minutes.”  Despite the fact that his late father's personal coach was horse-drawn, it had been fashioned from the remains of one of the limousines of the Ancients, so he always called it the Limo.  Jeffrey wondered idly if his engineers could fix it up with one of the old-style gasoline motors and give the horses a rest.  There was plenty of fuel left at the armory in Abilene, now that the tanks it had been refined for were sitting motionless up in Denver.

He finished the lemonade and left the office and headed for the staircase.  All things considered, it might be better to spend the night at the house by the lake.  He couldn't bear the thought of climbing all these stairs again tonight, back up to the Honcho's offices, just to be ready for another day of arguing.

It was already dark by the time the Limo headed out of Dallas.  The driver stopped for a minute to light the oil lamps on the front of the vehicle, the better to navigate on the country road to the mansion.  Jeffrey wondered if he could ask Xander to make him a couple of everflames for it instead, the next time he went up to Denver.

That reminded him of Aria.  Were they really going to go through with the wedding?  How could they make the marriage work, with their differing responsibilities?  He couldn't expect her to stay in Texas, and he certainly couldn't stay up there for very long without the situation down here unraveling without him.

The engagement had seemed like a good idea at the time, a good way for Texas to save face after the failed invasion, but he knew perfectly well that she wasn't madly in love with him, or he with her.  Sure, it had allowed him to return with more than the news of his father's death, and softened what would otherwise have been complete humiliation.  But he knew Aria wasn't interested in being the kind of Honchessa his people would expect.

His mother must have been waiting with that intuition peculiar to parents, because she was out the front door before he could reach it.  He embraced her and walked the rest of the way with her.

“Are they giving you a hard time?”

He sighed.  “You have no idea.  Half of them almost call me a traitor out loud.  The other half want to repudiate the treaty and try to invade Rado again.”

“Oh, you'll handle them.  You're the Honcho now.  Tell me more about Kristana's daughter.  Is she pretty?”

He opened the front door for her.  “She's almost as beautiful as you.  But I hardly know her.  I don't know what's going to happen when they find out she has to spend a lot of time in Rado instead of Texas.”

She smiled and shook her head at his flattery.  “We'd all like to marry for true love.  But sometimes, even a marriage for political reasons can turn out well.  In the old days most marriages were arranged, you know, but you can fall in love after you get married as well as before.”

He started to get the feeling that she might confide something he didn't want to know about his father. 
Time for a change of subject.
“What's for dinner?”