War World X: Takeover (36 page)

“Yes, but I wanted to tell you that I like you and that is something I could not do unless we were alone. You are not like the other men I see. You are gentle and funny.” She moved toward him, and lifted the veil of her burqa to uncover her mouth. “I find myself wanting to kiss you,” she said, bringing her lips toward his.

Abdullah put his arms around her, and their lips met, hesitantly at first, but then more passionately. He felt her body against him. He had always thought of Faryal as a girl, but this curvy body he held was a woman’s body. He stopped suddenly and backed away. Her veil fell back into place.

“But your father,” he said.

She sighed. “Yes, my father. Always my father, always the goal, always the mission. Regardless of who my father is, I wanted you to know how I feel. You might not think so, many men don’t, but how a woman feels is important. And while you worry about my father, I want to tell you another thing: My mother does not know I am here and would not approve of my actions, but she likes you, too.”

She touched him briefly on the cheek, opened the door and went down the passageway. Abdullah fell back against a workbench, his head whirling. He had dreams like this, but this was no dream. It had been almost a year since he had been with a woman and now it appeared to him that he was cared for by a woman he could not possess. His life had suddenly become very complicated.

Abdullah clipped his harness closed and leaned back into the canvas jump seat. His stomach was knotted and his mouth dry. Even though he had used the head before boarding the drop capsule, he still felt like his bladder was full. He sat near the front of the capsule, his back toward the stern, and if he craned his neck, he could see the twenty people strapped in behind him. Along the floorboards (at least, what they hoped would be the floorboards when they landed), cargo and supplies were lashed to railings. Tawfiq was not in this capsule, instead, it was Barbarossa in the front row beside Abdullah. The Mahdi and his family were in another, as the leaders of the Faithful had scattered themselves among the different capsules to ensure continuity of leadership in the event a capsule was lost.

Abdullah couldn’t stop thinking about the conversation he had overheard in the wardroom so many months ago. He had at least a ten percent chance of dying within the next hour or so. And a significant chance of being hurt or maimed by a rough landing. The crewman looked into the capsule, nodded to Abdullah, and shut the hatch. The wheel in the center spun, the dogs around the edges engaged, and Abdullah heard the thump thump of the man’s fist, indicating that the hatch was sealed and ready to go.

There was a sudden bam as the docking lugs broke free. The capsule was underway. Abdullah felt the pressure of his body against his seat and the dull roar of rocket engines. Then there was a long period of silence, followed by a hissing noise and more pressure. They were entering the atmosphere now. The interior of the capsule began to get warm, which they had been told would not happen. The ride was not smooth, with lots of turbulence, and Abdullah was thrown around roughly in his seat. Then there was a strong yank, which would be the drogue chute deploying. When the main chutes deployed, there was a savage jerk on the capsule and cries of pain all around him.

“Shit,” said Abdullah, in English. Then, as the capsule’s motion smoothed, he was embarrassed. If there had been a problem, he would have died with that obscenity on his lips. They fell for what seemed forever. Abdullah found himself tensing, breathing shallowly.

When the impact came, he felt his spine compress, his neck crack and the capsule tumble, once, and then again. Gear broke free and flew around the capsule, as did a few of the people. There were cries, screams and shouts all around him. Then with a crunch, the capsule came to rest. Abdullah was sideways, the port bulkhead of the capsule now being its floor. There was sobbing behind him and excited conversation. Abdullah carefully unbuckled his straps, unable to prevent himself from falling when the final strap was loosened. He went to the forward hatch and turned the wheel. There was a hiss, and then a pop when the hatch unsealed, the pressure in the capsule being much higher than the air outside.

Abdullah clambered out. They were on a broad and rocky plain near the shore of a large lake. The weather was cool and breezy. They must have landed near their destination, because a few kilometers away from them was a dusty town on the shore of a river that ran from the lake. On the other side of the river, a crude fortress sat on a bluff, with another town before the fortress. Above him, the sky was a faded orange, with a small yellowish sun, and a huge striped planet filling a large part of the sky. The other capsules were hanging in the sky under gleaming white chutes, like seeds from a dandelion. Abdullah knew it was hundreds, but they looked like thousands. He finally looked down and saw there were plants among the rocks at his feet, none that he recognized, and an odd creature running from rock to rock for cover. He needed to take his eyes off the sky. This was his new home.

The losses among the capsules had been lighter than expected, perhaps because Haven’s gravity was a bit weaker than Earth’s. Out of the five hundred capsules, only forty-one failed entirely, mostly due to parachute or retrorocket failures. The injuries in the other capsules were light, many sore necks and backs, and a lot of sprains, but only a scattering of broken bones. Tawfiq, who Abdullah was pleased to see survived the journey, called it a blessing from Allah. Abdullah hid his further pleasure at seeing Faryal at her mother’s side, safe and sound.

Nonetheless, the first order of business was burying the dead. The Qur’an was clear, this task could not wait. There were ceremonies all around them. With every body, they were already making the soil of this world their own.

The mining company, Dover Mining Development, sent out representatives, from the town beyond the fortress, the town called Eureka, flanked by large groups of well-armed CoDo Marines. They asked for a leader, and were pleased to find that the new arrivals were well organized. They told the Mahdi that they would begin providing rations from a nearby protein plant immediately. Water was available from nearby irrigation channels that ran from Dire Lake. They gave strict orders for sanitation. They asked for fifty men who would attend classes on Haven: How its days and nights occurred, its wildlife, its dangers, on the work the mining company had in store for the newcomers. They had two weeks to get themselves settled before three thousand men reported for mine work.

After they left, Barbarossa grumbled. “Are we slaves, to just stand and listen?”

“We have been over this,” the Mahdi said. “Until I say otherwise, we listen, we obey, we watch and we learn. Strike before we are ready and Allah will smite us for our stupidity.”

The first morning brought a welcome sound, the sound of an imam echoing from the buildings of the nearer town, calling the Faithful to prayer. That was about the only welcome surprise they had for the next few weeks were filled with brutally hard work. They discovered that the nearer town, almost exclusively Muslim, was called Medina, and the fort overlooking the two towns was called Fort Camerone. There was also a bridge between the towns and they discovered that Muslims who did not have work or other business in Eureka, the town on the other side of the bridge, were discouraged from crossing.

The cool, thin air made things even harder and they panted for breath as they worked to lever the capsules into a more orderly array. They could not move them far, but at least they could align them in a way that would accommodate streets and other buildings in the future. They also set up tents, many tents, using the parachutes for material. The capsules held only two hundred people when packed tight.

Most unmarried men would be sleeping outdoors for the immediate future. Canvas seats were refashioned into canvas beds and people fanned out into Medina to find out what might be available for sale, what resources there were, where mosques were and which way to face when they prayed.

The land was barren and flat, with hills visible to the north and west of town, and a large mountain range on the far northern horizon. There were a few small farms in the surrounding area, mostly to the north of town, irrigated by water drawn from the river. But mostly the ground was rocky and the soil poor, with thin grass and a plant called bindle weed growing wherever they could. So most of the food came from a CoDominium protein plant located on the outskirts of Eureka.

Trees were sparse and odd looking; bottle trees with their thick trunks and tufts of leaves on top and squat fan trees with their broad but strange looking leaves. Domesticated animals were mostly Earth livestock, with mountain animals like sheep and alpacas heavy in the mix. Horses were in common use as were muskylopes. The only powered vehicles in town were those driven by mining company officials, and CoDominium Marine tanks and trucks.

Barbarossa, always thinking of military matters, obtained a number of wooden staffs, and also materials to fashion bows and arrows. The mining companies and Marines would not let the Faithful buy weapons, but Barbarossa refused to let them remain unarmed. He argued that they needed to be able to defend themselves, but also wanted to continue to hone the martial abilities the Faithful had learned aboard ship.

One truenight, a large man from Medina, with a thick, brown beard, reddish robes, and a dirty turban came to meet with the Mahdi. He had a gun on each hip, a large knife in a sheath stuck through his belt in front. He had four toughs with him, hard men, even dirtier than him, armed with pistols and assault rifles. He had asked to meet with the leaders of the newcomers, and Tawfiq had all his lieutenants around him, even Abdullah sitting in the corner quietly.

The visitor cleared his throat, looked like he wanted to spit, but then thought the better of it. “Are you Tawfiq?” he asked.

Tawfiq nodded.

“And you call yourself the Mahdi?” the man asked, in a voice caught between scorn and wonder.

“Some know me by that name,” Tawfiq replied. “And you are?”

“I am Kabir,” the man said, “and before you get too settled and set in your ways, we need to get some things straight.”

“Continue,” said Tawfiq, with an arched eyebrow.

“Well, first of all, we get five percent of what the mining companies pay everyone. I run a protective service, with roving guards, and it takes money to do that. And no one around here sells liquor without going through me, Or drugs, for that matter.

“And if you have the money,” he said with a grin, “we would be happy to provide you whatever you need.”

Abdullah looked around. Tawfiq had trained his lieutenants well. All sat quietly, as if this man were discussing the weather.

The man went on, “And I have a number of fine whorehouses, where you can find delights that would please any man. I am always looking for fresh girls, or young boys, and offer finders fees, if you know of any good ones who arrived with you.”

At this, there was an audible but faint response, a kind of collective growl. Barbarossa looked pointedly at Tawfiq, his face red. Tawfiq sighed, and nodded, and his lieutenants erupted into action. Before the thugs could even get a shot off, they were overwhelmed and pinned to the floor. One whimpered from the pain of a broken forearm.