A Gentleman's Game

39

The Red Sea 18 September 2159 Local (GMT+2.00) The boat was small, with a cramped cabin that, out of respect, Sinan and Matteen had surrendered to Nia for the duration of the voyage. The crossing from Saudi to Egypt wasn't far, at least not considering the distance they had already covered to reach this point, but it was slow going, and the captain of the vessel, a small Egyptian named Kasam who seemed interested only in the money to be made from this venture, had no desire to hurry.

There were quicker routes into Egypt, to be sure, but none as safe, at least according to Abdul Aziz. Going west from the Wadi-as-Sirhan would have allowed Sinan and the others to travel through Jordan, then down through the Gaza and the Sinai, into Egypt. But Gaza would have been a problem, and Abdul Aziz had been quite clear with Sinan before they had departed.

"Succeed," he had told Sinan. "For the Prince's memory, for Nia's place in Paradise, but most of all, for Allah."

Rocking on the waves of the Red Sea, looking at the star-filled sky and the empty night all around them, success seemed very far away. Kasam ran his boat without lights-Sinan wondered if, in fact, the boat even had lights-and with roughly another hundred kilometers to go before reaching the shore, there was nothing to see. The only noises came from the diesel engine belowdecks, wheezing and grinding, and the slap of the water against the hull.

Sinan turned from the prow, squinting to see through the darkness. He could barely make out Kasam at the wheel, behind the cabin, moving every so often, adjusting their course. Matteen had settled on the deck only a few feet away, was already asleep, and Sinan marveled at his friend's ability to steal rest whenever and wherever it presented itself.

Sinan couldn't, knew that he wouldn't be able to do it, not until they were safely in Cairo.

He looked to the cabin, wondering if Nia was sleeping, thinking how extraordinary it must be to know the hour and moment of your death was approaching, and to know, in your heart of hearts, that this was a good thing, as it should be. Was she impatient, anxious to be on her way to Paradise?

They hadn't truly spoken since leaving the Wadi-as-Sirhan, not even in the interminable ride in the truck to Tabuk before taking the plane to Jeddah. Crammed in the cab of the vehicle, Matteen at the wheel, with Nia wedged between him and Sinan, the drive had been silent, each of them in his own thoughts. When Nia had nodded off to sleep, she had rested her head against Sinan's shoulder, and through her balta he had felt the warmth of her, smelled the fragrance of her, and his dream had returned to him.

Sinan moved to the door of the cabin and knocked lightly. When he heard no response, he opened it and stepped inside. It was even darker in the cabin than out, and he stood for several seconds, trying to find Nia in the room, feeling the gentle sway of the boat.

"Sinan?" she asked hoarsely. "Is that you?"

"Yes."

Only when she moved did he see her, the outline of her shape as she pushed herself up from where she'd been lying on the floor.

"I wanted to see if you were all right," Sinan said.

"I can't sleep."

"Neither can I."

"I want to. I've been trying to."

"We'll be ashore soon, and then we'll go to Cairo, to the hotel. There'll be a bed there, you'll be able to sleep then."

Nia shifted, sitting upright. "Would you sit with me?"

Sinan hesitated.

"Please?"

He moved closer, took a seat on the floor. He could see her smile, and it seemed a look of gratitude to him.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

The smile faded and her look took distance. She turned her head away, as if trying to see through the walls all the way across the water to their goal.

"Nia?"

"I'm just tired, Sinan."

And then she shifted and lowered her head into his lap without a word, resting it upon his thigh and closing her eyes. He felt her hand, small and warm, take his, her fingers closing around his own.

"I'm glad you're here," she whispered.

He put his hand lightly to her head, surprised himself by gently beginning to pet her hair.

"I'm glad I'm here, too."

"I'll miss you, Sinan," she murmured. "When I go, I'll miss you."

"We will see each other again."

"I know," Nia said. "In Paradise."

He felt the weight of her head grow against his thigh as she relaxed, falling asleep.

In Paradise, Sinan thought, and he continued to stroke her hair.