That
night, Emily and Mubarak told the others that she would be leaving with the
jinn. Devereaux’s jaw dropped. He stuttered in disbelief: “Y-y-you can’t,
Emily! You just can’t!” The team stared at her with wide eyes, their minds
trying to imagine what lay ahead for her.
“I
am convinced this is my destiny,” she said softly. “I love Mubarak. I care
deeply about him and his people, and I want to learn more about them. I can’t do
that here. I’ll be safe. It’ll be the adventure of a lifetime.”
“We
will protect Emily, I promise,” Mubarak said.
Devereaux
paced back and forth, trying to think of some way to change her mind.
“The
President will want to speak with you,” he said. “You have to come back to
Washington!”
“I’ll
send him a postcard,” Emily said with a shy grin.
“You
take care of yourself, girl,” said Vanessa Willis, her arm around Dan Keller’s
waist. “It sounds pretty scary to me, but after all we’ve been through, it’ll
probably turn out to be a cakewalk.”
“Thanks,
Vanessa,” Emily replied. She paused, and looked around at the team. “I’ll miss
you all. I really will.”
“I
almost envy you, heading out into space, exploring the universe,” said Lasser.
“Almost.” He looked around him at the City of Iram. “I guess I’ll stick to what
I know – or think I know – the Great Underground.”
A
few of them laughed. Bakhashaf poked him in the shoulder.
Emily
said to the team: “If I can send you a message, I will. I promise I’ll try. I
will never forget you.”
They
gathered close around her, exchanging embraces and what they knew would be
farewells.
When
dawn came, the jinn exodus began. It started slowly. One after another, the
jinn citizens of Iram stepped out of their homes, took flight and headed up
toward the pearl dome. Before they reached it, they vanished, entering a rift
in spacetime. The opening carried them into a wormhole, and the wormhole led to
their new world. Soon dozens were flying upward, then hundreds, eventually
thousands. At various secret places around the world, the same process was
underway, though not on so great a scale as at Iram. The jinn of Earth were
leaving.
The
expedition members were invited to witness the departure of the jinn
leadership. A farewell ceremony was arranged in the central plaza. A large
glowing, rose-colored sphere sat in the square, awaiting the leaders. There
appeared to be no doorway or portal into the sphere.
The
jinn leaders approached from a nearby building. Frank Devereaux, as expedition
leader, greeted the officials. Emily Goddard, co-leader, stood back, close to
Mubarak Awda. She wore blue expedition coveralls, but Awda had exchanged his
for a gleaming white Saudi thobe. He also wore a red-and-white-checked shemagh, wrapped and tied like a casual
turban. Emily and Mubarak looked frequently at each other, speaking with their
eyes. Dan Keller stood with the Marines, beside Pvt. Willis. The back of his left hand gently touched the
back of her right; otherwise, they gave no sign they even knew each other. Lasser,
Bakhashaf and Semple whispered together, and the psychiatrist kept looking over
at Mubarak Awda.
Earlier,
Dr. Semple had taken Awda aside, and asked him the question.
“Please
tell me,” he said. “Why did your people create the UFO deception? Why did you
torment us for so many years, with saucer sightings, close encounters, abductions
and the like?”
“Your
wife…”
“Yes.”
“I’m
so sorry, Dr. Semple. I truly am.
Sometimes, these strategic decisions can cause pain and suffering. I realize
that. That was not our intention. What my people did was an act of
self-preservation – nothing more. Do you know of Christopher Sarantakos?”
“No,
I’m afraid I – “
“Perhaps
you know him by his stage name, Criss Angel. He’s an American illusionist, who
performs on television, in Las Vegas and similar venues. He’s known for his
amazing magic stunts. Most of these illusions are achieved through
misdirection. The audience looks in one direction, the illusionist acts in
another. This what the jinn have done. We turned your eyes to outer space,
while we lived around you – and indeed beneath you.”
Mubarak
placed a hand on the doctor’s shoulder. “Again, I’m truly sorry your wife
suffered at our hands.”
Semple
could think of nothing to say. He looked Mubarak in the eye and nodded slowly.
Miriam
addressed the humans. Her rich, almost musical voice carried far throughout the
plaza and above, and some of the departing jinn paused to listen to her.
“We
thank you for witnessing our departure. I must say, this is a sad moment for
all of us. We shall miss the dear Earth and its inhabitants. But we have a
destiny to fulfill, and the time has come.”
She
paused, and Devereaux spoke up.
“When
you are gone, what do we do next? How do we make use of your technology, your
City?”
“That’s
up to you, Mr. Devereaux. I’m sure your government will have some ideas.” She
smiled. “Also, when we depart, I think you’ll find your satellite phone works
much better.”
His
hand went automatically to the small black phone holstered on his belt.
“But
meanwhile, we have something for you that may make your task of comprehending
all this…” She waved her hand. “… somewhat easier.”
She
beckoned to one of her assistants, who brought her a book. It was a small,
thick tome in a glistening green cover. Miriam handed the book to Devereaux. He
paged through it.
“It’s
in English,” he said, surprised.
“We
thought you’d like that,” she said. “It’s an instruction manual of sorts. Call
it our scriptures.”
Devereaux
looked up, his eyes wide. “This is – this is so … thank you,” he said.
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