Carnifex

2/6/468 AC, Nicobar Straits

There is no safe harbor except in silence, thought al Naquib, watching out over the polluted waters of the Straits and coughing from the smoky haze that dominated it. There is no safe harbor when the enemy can listen in on every word spoken on a phone or a radio, not when our ranks contain informers and spies.

The down side of silence, though, is coordination. Everything, everything, depends on getting the word at the proper time from a ship's captain I have never laid eyes on nor even spoken to. And to add to the uncertainty, half my force is on this side of the straits, half on the other.

Worries, worries . . . my life is worries. What if my boats are spotted? What if the conexes with the missiles are spotted? What if the Hoogaboom has a delay. What if; what if, what if?

Al Naquib pulled out a compass and oriented himself toward Makkah al Jedidah. Prostrating himself, he prayed, I have done what I can, Lord, all that is in my power to do. It is in Your hands now. My men will do their duty. They are among the best of the faithful. My machines have been cared for, as the new learning says they must be. So, Beneficent One, I ask . . . I plead . . . I beg for Your favor tomorrow as my men go into battle. And, Lord, even if you withhold your favor from our undertaking, I ask that you see to the souls of my men who serve you.