The Exile Kiss by George Alec Effinger Read Free Book Online Page A

us if—"
"Peace, my nephew," said Papa in his imperturbable voice. He turned to the qadi. "Please, your honor, what is the charge against us?"
"Oh, murder," said the distracted judge. "Murder in the first degree. Now, as I have all the—"
"Murder!" I cried. I heard Hajjar laugh, and I turned and gave him a deadly look. He raised his hands to protect himself. The goon reached across and slapped my face, hard. I turned toward him, raging, but he just waved the barrel of his needle gun under my nose. I subsided a little.
"Whom were we supposed to have killed?" asked Papa.
"Just a moment, I have it here somewhere," said the qadi. "Yes, a police officer named Khalid Maxwell. The crime was discovered by an associate of Shaykh Reda Abu Adil."
"I knew Abu Adil's name would come into this," I growled.
"Khalid Maxwell," said Papa. "I've never had any con-tact at all with anyone by that name."
    "I haven't either," I said. "I've never even heard of the guy."
    "One of my most trusted subordinates," said Hajjar. "The city and the force have suffered a great loss." "We didn't do it, Hajjar!" I shouted. "And you know it!"
The qadi looked at me sternly. "It's much too late for denials," he said. His dark face didn't seem sturdy enough to
    support either his bulbous nose or the bushy growth attached to it. "I've already reached my verdict."
    Papa began to look a trifle upset. "You've already made your decision, without letting us present our side of the story?"
The qadi slapped his handful of paper. "All the facts are here. There are eyewitness accounts and reports from Lieutenant Hajjar's investigation. There's too much docu-mented evidence to allow for even the slightest doubt. What is your side of the story? That you deny committing this foul crime? Of course, that's what you'd have said to me. I didn't need to waste my time listening to it. I have all this!" Again he slapped the papers.
"Then you've reached a verdict," said Papa, "and you've found us guilty."
"Precisely," said the qadi. "Guilty as charged. Guilty in the eyes of Allah and your fellow man. However, the death penalty will be set aside because of an earnest peti-tion from one of the city's most respected citizens."
"Shaykh Reda?" I said. My stomach was starting to bother me again.
"Yes," said the qadi. "Shaykh Reda appealed to me on your behalf. Out of respect for him, you will not be be-headed in the courtyard of the Shimaal Mosque as you deserve. Rather, your sentence is banishment. You're for-bidden ever to return to the city, under pain of arrest and summary execution."
"Well," I said sourly, "that's a relief. Where are you taking us?"
"This shuttle's destination is the kingdom of Asir," said the qadi.
I looked across at Friedlander Bey. He was doing his serene old wise man routine again. I felt a little better, too. I didn't know anything about Asir other than it bor-dered the Red Sea south of Mecca. Asir was better than some places they could have shipped us, and from there we could begin drawing on our resources to prepare our return to the city. It would take time and a lot of money passed under a lot of tables, but we'd come home eventu-ally. I was already looking forward to my reunion with Hajjar.
The qadi glanced from me to Papa, then nodded and retired again to the rear cabin. Hajjar waited for him to leave, then let loose a loud guffaw. "Hey!" he cried. "What you think of that?"
I grabbed his throat before he could duck out of the way. The goon rose out of his seat and threatened me with the needle gun. "Don't shoot!" I said with feigned terror, all the while squeezing Hajjar's larynx tighter. "Please, don't shoot me!"
Hajjar tried to say something, but I had his windpipe shut off. His face was turning the color of the wine of
Paradise.
"Release him, my nephew," said Friedlander Bey af-ter a moment.
"Now, O Shaykh?" I asked. I still hadn't let go.
"Now."
I flung Hajjar away from me, and the back of his head bpunced off the bulkhead behind him. He gasped and