heard,” said Alai. “And I assure you that when it’s actually in my power to control the armies of Islam, they will behave as true Muslims, and not as barbarian conquerors. Meanwhile, however, I’m afraid that bloodshed is likely, and I believe you will be safest here with me in this garden for the next half hour or so.”
“Hot Soup has just taken over in China,” said Petra.
“So I’ve heard.”
“And he’s taking the title of emperor,” she added.
“Back to the good old days.”
“A new dynasty in Beijing now faces the restored Caliphate in Damascus,” said Petra. “It would be a terrible thing, for members of the Jeesh to have to choose up sides and wage war against each other. Surely that’s not what Battle School was ever meant to accomplish.”
“Battle School?” said Alai. “They may have identified us, but we already were who we were before they laid a hand on us. Do you think that without Battle School, I could not be where I am, or Han Tzu where he is? Look at Peter Wiggin— he didn’t go to Battle School, but he got himself appointed Hegemon.”
“An empty title,” said Peter.
“It was when you got it,” said Alai. “Just as my title was until two minutes ago. But when you sit in the chair and wear the hat, some people don’t understand that it’s just a play and start obeying you as if you had real power. And then you have real power. Neh?”
“Eh,” said Petra.
Peter smiled. “I’m not your enemy, Alai,” he said.
“You’re not my friend, either,” said Alai. But then he smiled. “The question is whether you’ll turn out to be a friend to humanity. Or whether I will.” He turned back to Petra. “And so much depends on what your husband chooses to do before he dies.”
Petra nodded gravely. “He’d prefer to do nothing except enjoy the months or perhaps years he’ll have with me and our child.”
“God willing,” said Alai, “that’s all he’ll be required to do.”
A soldier came pounding across the flagstones. “Sir, the compound is secure and none of the council have escaped.”
“I’m happy to hear that,” said Alai.
“Three councilmen are dead, sir,” said the soldier. “It could not be helped.”
“I’m sure that’s the truth,” said Alai. “They are now in God’s hands. The rest are in mine, and now I must try to do what God would have me do. Now, my son, will you take these two friends of the Caliph safely back to their hotel? Our conversation is finished, and I wish them to be free to leave Damascus, unhindered and unrecognized. No one will speak of their presence in this garden on this day.”
“Yes, my Caliph,” said the soldier. He bowed, and then turned to Peter and Petra. “Will you come with me, friends of the Caliph?”
“Thank you,” Petra said. “The Caliph is blessed with true servants in this house.”
The man did not acknowledge her praise. “This way,” he said to Peter.
As they followed him back to the enclosed van, Peter wondered whether he might have unconsciously planned for the events that happened here today, or whether it was just dumb luck.
Or whether Petra and Alai planned it, and Peter was nothing more than their pawn, thinking foolishly that he was making his own decisions and conducting his own strategy.
Or are we, as the Muslims believe, only acting out the script of God?
Not likely. Any God worth believing in could make up a better plan than the mess the world was in now.
In my childhood I set my hand to improving the world, and for a while I succeeded. I stopped a war through words I wrote on the nets, when people didn’t know who I was. But now I have the empty title of Hegemon. Wars are swirling back and forth across swathes of the Earth like a reaper’s scythe, vast populations are seething under the whips of new oppressors, and I am powerless to change a thing.
4
BARGAIN
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[email protected]Re: Suriyawong’s actions