Sarah Zettel - Fool's War

Al Shei raised her eyes. “Tully’s here?”

Taylor nodded. “House arrest. Somebody bailed him out of the brig…”

Ah. That would be Uncle Ahmet, at Ruqaiyya’s insistence. This was something else her family had neglected to tell her. “All right, Taylor.” Al Shei tugged at her tunic sleeve. “Thanks for the information.”

“Sorry it’s all bad news, mi capitan ,” he said earnestly. “I promise you, next trip through will be smooth as smooth. I’ll even buy the coffee.”

She mustered a cheerful note for her voice. “I’ll hold you to that.” She closed the line and buried her face in her hands.

Two days! Two days before she could move, and then another five days before she would reach Earth. Seven whole days before she could reach Asil. Seven more days her children would have to face this disaster without her there. Seven days before she could do anything.

She lifted her head. “Intercom to Resit.”

“Here,” Resit’s voice came back. “I’m about to guess that you’ve just learned what I’ve learned from this lovely official bulletin in my desk.”

Al Shei brushed the table top with her palm. “Is there anything we can do about it?”

There was a pause. “I’ve got Incili running the options, but I don’t think so. They’ve got us tightly clamped, especially since Tully appears to have done what he’s accused of. If we try to get out of this, we become accessories.”

“I was afraid you were going to say that.” Al Shei stood up. “All right, I’ll see you at prayer. Let me know if Incili comes up with anything before then. Intercom to close.” She drummed her fingers on the table. “Intercom to Schyler. Did you get the lovely official bulletin too?”

“I did.” He sounded easily as tired as she felt.

“We’ll need a crew briefing to inform everybody of the situation and their rights. Resit will represent everybody, but they can get independent counsel if they want to protest any restrictions on their movements.” She hesitated. “Get it together, will you? In about half an hour.”

“Aye-aye, Engine.”

“Intercom to close.” Al Shei levered herself out of the chair and cycled open the hatch. She kept her eyes fixed straight ahead as she crossed the corridor and opened the hatch to the stairway. She didn’t want to see anybody right now. She just wanted to get to her cabin. She had to talk to Asil. She had to find out how he was. She had to do that now. She couldn’t stand to wait anymore. She climbed to the berthing deck, barely hearing Schyler’s general announcement about a mandatory briefing.

In her cabin, Al Shei locked the hatch and then activated her desk. She bit her lip as she opened her personal account. As she had been afraid of; there was not enough left in there to make a long fast-time call to Earth.

She wrote the commands for a link to the bank lines. She could have gotten Lipinski to do it, but she didn’t want him to hear what was coming next. The link opened and her credit started draining away into it. “To Ahmet Tey, urgent delivery from Katmer Al Shei, will you open a fast time to me aboard the Pasadena at Port Oberon?” She closed the link and sent the message on its way.

She looked down at the account display. She had less than three hours pay left in there.

We’ll make it up somehow, Beloved, she thought towards the place in her mind that held all her memories of her husband. When all this is over.

Somehow, Beloved, he answered in her mind. We’re a long way from finished with this, Katmer.

A text message flashed across her memory board, catching her eye and yanking her out of her reverie.

INCOMING FAST-TIME FOR RECEIPT BY KATMER AL SHEI.

Al Shei wrote ACCEPTand added a period. The desk absorbed the command and lit up the view screen.

Uncle Ahmet, as dignified and immaculate as ever, sat calmly on his side of the screen.

“ Salam , Katmer,” he said solemnly. “I am glad you are back in the system safely.”

Al Shei bit down on the first, caustic reply that rose to her mouth. “So am I, Uncle. I was hoping I might speak to my husband to hear how he and the children are doing under the stress.”

Was it her imagination, or did Uncle Ahmet hesitate? “Muhammad and Vashti are well,” he answered smoothly. “Your grandmother and I thought it best they be put in the care of your brother and sisters until you can return here. They have said that their only sorrow is that they miss their mother. They are at their schools just now.”

What Uncle Ahmet didn’t say bit deeply into Al Shei. He didn’t say “your grandmother, your husband and I.” He didn’t say Asil had anything to do with the decision to send the children to her siblings.

“And where is Asil?” She resisted the temptation to crane her neck to try to see around the corners of the screen. “How is he? May I speak with him?”

There it was again. A split-second hesitation from her completely composed Uncle. “Asil, I am sorry to say, is not here. This sad business has called him away from home just now.”

Al Shei felt the heat of her anger rising. “Uncle Ahmet, is he in police custody?” I will not be lied to! I will be told what is happening to my husband!

“He is not in police custody.” No hesitation. His eyes and voice remained completely steady. “But he is not here, Katmer. As soon as I speak with him, he will know of your concern. When will you be returning home?”

Behind her hijab , Al Shei steadied the trembling in her chin. “In seven days. We are delayed here at port because…” Al Shei hesitated herself. No, she decided. No more covering. “Marcus Tully is under suspicion of smuggling. The Pasadena has been impounded. We cannot leave until the Management Union ship comes to escort us.”

Uncle Ahmet inclined his head once. “I was aware of that. Ruqaiyya wanted to go join her husband, an admirable if misguided desire. Divorce proceedings are being discussed.” By who? Al Shei wondered. Her fists wanted to clench.

“Uncle Ahmet, how is the case against Asil being prosecuted? Is there a trail date or is the investigation still going on?” She leaned forward, pride forgotten. “Please, Uncle, tell me what is happening to my husband. I have some information here, evidence that will help, but my sources are not all that reliable…”

This time she saw it for sure; his eyes did flicker away from her, looking for answers elsewhere than her face. “Nothing has happened except that the accusations have been handed to the family.” He focused on her again. “Those who have made this false statement will be confronted and made to answer for their lies.” His voice almost broke then and for the first time, Al Shei sensed the tide of anger her uncle was holding back. “Come home as quickly as you can, Katmer. Your children need you here. Salam .”

With that, the screen went blank. Al Shei stared at the blank surface. “He who keeps silent, remains safe,” she murmured. She gripped the hem of her tunic in both hands. What is going on! What is going on! Anger flared inside her, useless, helpless anger. Asil was millions of miles away, behind her silent, lying uncle and a cage of bureaucratic procedures. She could do nothing, nothing to reach him. He was trapped and she was trapped and they couldn’t even speak to each other.

Tears burned in her eyes. Not now. Not now! She tightened her fists, forcing tears and fury back down into the darkest places in her soul. You have your crew to care for, and your ship to see to. You have to find a way out of this mess and back home to Asil. Then you can cry. Then you can scream.

“Allah witness what I say,” she whispered to the backs of her fists and her empty cabin. “I will make those who have done this pay until they are bled dry!”