The sun was still struggling over the foothills when Jazira brought her ´mobile to a halt at Pru´s door. Like most natives, she preferred to do her outdoor activities when the heat was at a minimum.
Pru climbed into the ´mobile, settling next to her friend, leaning to press a light kiss on her cheek. “How you doing, today?” she asked conventionally. Jazz put the ´mobile in motion before she answered.
“I´ve been thinking, Pru. I do need to do something to bring Zahlman back to reality. These guys he hangs out with aren´t fools. They´ve got an agenda. I don´t know what it is, mind you, but it sure doesn´t include me – it doesn´t include women at all. And if it doesn´t include me, I don´t like it.”
“You´ve been worrying about this for a while, haven´t you?”
“Pru, I read history. I know how Islam behaved in the old days, and how they treated their women. I don´t want that. Enough is enough.”
“That´s mostly over, Jazz. I didn´t mean to spook you yesterday.”
“Oh, it wasn´t you, Pru. You know as well as I do that there´s plenty of the old ideas around. At least, there are guys who think they know what the old ideas were. I see troublemakers all the time. They´ll use anything to make their ideas seem attractive. But, all they really want is to make themselves important.”
“You´re still thinking of The Yemen, Jazz. Those guys were real throwbacks. I never knew the old Bedouin ways still existed. What I mean is those guys didn´t know any better. I doubt if any of them had ever been more than a day or two in a Controlled Area.”
“That´s different, Pru. These are guys from around here. They´ve lived here all their lives, most of them, and they know the score. They´re modern men who´re looking for something they can´t put their fingers on, so they´re looking at doing something scary to make them feel important or give them power. What´s got me scared is that they´ll get Zahl into their craziness.”
“You´re not giving Zahl much credit, Jazz,” Pru said as the ´mobile moved along the wide, even way that led toward the CA, passing fields of vegetables and orchards of fruit trees that supplied the Area.
“I know, Pru. But, he´s not doing himself much credit, either. Playing war games – that´s just kid stuff. But, this Islamist business makes me really worry.”
Jazz pulled the ´mobile into a parking area outside a portal and switched off the fields. The ´mobile settled to the ground, and they stepped out. This close to the Controlled Area, they left their shirts in the vehicle before entering the portal. Pru noted, once again, that Jazira´s flash signified simply “married”, matching her coded earrings.
Inside, they walked through a market area and down to the Metro level, taking a car toward Ceuta Sector.
As they rode, Pru picked up the conversation. “Has Zahlman brought any of this stuff home?” she asked.
“Well, some. One day he started off on the dress business. Modesty and that stuff. I told him what I thought of that and pointed out that his own modern dress was no more or less modest than mine by today´s standards. He really agreed that times had changed and all that. But, I´m worried just the same. If he starts wearing baggy pants instead of a kilt, I´ll freak.”
In Ceuta Sector, they went off through the passages and shopping areas, looking in the windows and examining the different offerings. Pru was again reminded of her visit, years before, to the Grand Bazaar and the Spice Market in Istanbul, with their similar areas of goods displayed in the open. She smiled at the thought that so much had changed, and yet so many things had remained the same. Certainly, the streets in Washington Sector bore no resemblance to those of Ceuta Sector. She inhaled, taking a deep breath of the fragrant atmosphere.
Jazira noticed and said, “I love the fragrances, too. You don´t find the same thing anywhere else.”
“Not in North America or Europe, anyway,” Pru agreed.
They sat for lunch at a café, eating fruits and a salad that had probably come from the same fields through which they had just driven. Pru thought there was a strong chance the raw materials had been brought to market on Jazira and Zahlman´s own lift trucks.
“Tell me about the rest of the gang,” Pru asked, not merely to distract her friend from her concerns.
“Let´s see. Mira still lives in Tangier Sector; she´s still uncommitted and she´s VP at a bank there. Isabella´s gone back to Algiers CA, but I think she´s doing something OC, like me. Not farming – she´s an engineer; remember. Something like running a mine up in the mountains.”
“That sounds a little risky. There are still some of those tribalists running around in those hills.”
“Izzy never worried about risks, Pru. You know that. She´s tough. And, then, there´s Alia and Zaratta. They´ve settled down in the Capitol CA. They run a restaurant and bar in Casablanca Sector.”
“Sounds like them. Are any of them committed or married?”
“Only me, Pru. Zahl and I chose the Islamic Marriage contract. But, Alia and Zaratta might as well be committed; they just don´t wear the flash. I´m the old-fashioned, stay-at-home of the bunch.”
Pru laughed out loud. “You´re the one who made sure we were well armed when we went trekking, and it was you that led the counter-attack when they ambushed us.”
“And it was your sharp-shooting that drove them off. They were all right as long as they could scare the crap out of us, but when you started putting slugs right next to them, they lost it. I´m glad you only had to wound one of them. I don´t like killing.”
“Me either,” Pru said. The memory still gave her mixed emotions. Moving on she asked, “Did you ever do the target practice I asked you to?”
“We all did. I won´t have to rely on rapid fire and spraying the underbrush another time. I used to think that was the only way, until I saw you at it.”
“I hope we don´t have to do that again. But, I´d love to go trekking again. Maybe we should try some really high country. We could take a week in the Atlas Mountains; then, maybe another time, go to Nepal.”
“Sounds great. But, I´ve got to get Zahlman´s feet on the ground before I go off with the girls.”
Eventually, the friends found themselves at the entrance to a Neo-Tantra office. Inside, they were met by a young woman who was wearing a pareo like the ones Pru had seen at the Head Office. Terry had told her that first afternoon that the pareo was the distinctive clothing of Neo-Tantra teachers.
“Peace be with you, how can I help you? I am Sarah.” (The old customs of greeting had never died out.)
Pru spoke up. “Peace be with you. We´d like to know more about Neo-Tantra.”
“Have you been to Neo-Tantra before?” Sarah asked.
Jazira said, “No. My friend, here, is from North America, and she said she´d heard of this. What´s it all about?”
Pru heard Sarah begin a well-developed marketing pitch on the advantages of empathic rapport in the relationships between man and woman, and began looking about the offices. She scanned a series of pictures on the wall that were similar to those she had seen at the Head Office. They depicted a variety of romantic, sensual scenes of men and women that were charming and attractive without being explicit. As she moved away from Jazz and Sarah, she noted a look in the Neo-Tantra woman´s eye and winked at her, whereupon Sarah turned her full charm and attention to Jazira.
Further along the wall, Pru found a door, and looking in saw an attractive man at a desk. He rose as she entered. He, too, was wearing a pareo. Like all the Neo-Tantra teachers, she had seen; his flash read simply, “uncommitted”.
“Good afternoon, Ms Whiteside,” he said, extending his hand. Pru realized that scanners at the door must have sucked her CID.
“Okay, nice trick. Who are you?” she responded, shaking his hand.
He smiled. “I´m Said bin Said. I´m the manager and head instructor. Terry Sideman told my colleague and me in Tangier Sector that you might drop in. I didn´t mean to seem smug.”
“No problem, Said,” Pru said with a smile. “I just wasn´t expecting it. Have you got a minute?”
“Of course. I´m sure Sarah will keep Ms al-Hamdi busy for a few moments. She´s very good at introductory work.” Said gestured for Pru to take a seat and they both sank into chairs.
“I hope you won´t mind if I´m a little abrupt. Ms al-Hamdi´s husband is Zahlman al-Raschid. They own a logistics business in Qatal.”
“I know of them.”
Pru was surprised, but went quickly on. “Zahlman has become involved with a group of men who meet in Wadi Felucca. Do you know the place?” Said nodded. “They´re playing war games with slug-throwers modified to shoot paint balls. The slug-throwers are real and could easily be made fully functional.” Said nodded again, and said nothing.
“These men are pushing old, pre-War Islamist ideology – traditional dress, the ancient ideas of the role of women and, I think, a lot of other stuff we haven´t heard since the 21st century. I brought Jazira here to see if there´s a way Neo-Tantra can help her but also to pass along that information. I don´t know anything about what Neo-Tantra does with stuff like that, but I have a feeling it´s something you people should know; if you don´t already.”
“Thank you. To be quick about it, we have heard about the group in Wadi Felucca, but this is the first time we´ve heard about the religious or ideological side. We hoped it was just a bunch of post-adolescents playing war games. This is helpful information.”
“Can you help Jazira handle this?”
“Perhaps, if she´s willing to take the Neo-Tantra course, and of course, if her husband responds to Neo-Tantra techniques. In any case, you´ve helped a bit with your information. But, I think we´d better re-join them.”
They found Jazira and Sarah seated on comfortable couches in a room off the lobby. Pru introduced Said, “Look what I found, Jazz, another Neo-Tantra person.” They settled on a couch close to the others.
Jazz asked, “You sure you haven´t been here before?”
Said spoke with a grin. “I assure you she´s never been here before. Do you want to see the entry logs?”
Jazz grinned. “I thought you´d probably sucked my CID when we came in. If you´ve got entry logs that prove it.” She turned to Pru. “My guess is you´ve told him about my problem with Zahlman. Well, I´ve been pumping Sarah, here, about this Neo-Tantra stuff and you may have a point here. She thinks Neo-Tantra can make me so sensitive to Zahl´s moods that he won´t be as interested in playing war with the boys.”
Sarah, a little confused, looked at Said. “Ms al-Hamdi told me her husband is spending more time with his male friends than she would like, and wants to know how to deal with that. I explained some of our methods.”
Pru laughed. “Jazz, you know me too well. I wanted to see if I could mobilize these folks to give you some support. But only if you think it will help.”
“It can´t hurt to try. And anyway, I´ve got nothing against getting high on sex.”