Patriot M.A. Rothman (free ebook reader for iphone .TXT) 📖

he is realistic. He knows there are many things that are within his control, and many things that are not. I happen to be one of the things that is not—much to his dismay.” She smiled again.

“And don’t get me wrong, I’m glad to hear it. Still, it’s surprising, considering…” Connor trailed off.

“Considering what he preaches every day?”

Connor nodded. “He’s extremely vocal about returning to the old ways, to bringing sharia here.”

Aliyah cocked her head to the side, an inquisitive look on her face. “And how do you feel about that, Bashir?”

“I…” As he paused to consider what she was asking, he felt a red flag wave in the back of his mind. If she was part of this whole thing, she could very well be fishing. Probing the new guy. The thought had previously crossed his mind, but he’d dismissed it as paranoid thinking. Now he reconsidered the undertones of this meeting.

The response Connor finally decided on was taken straight from a paper he’d written on the subject in college. “I feel that, as an ideology, sharia severely limits the capabilities and aspirations of women—to a degree that is harmful to all women.”

Aliyah considered him for a long moment, staring through the wisps of steam curling off her tea. Then a smile spread across her face. “This is true.”

Despite himself, Connor felt a weight lifted from his shoulders. It had been a gamble. Her reaction could have very well gone the other direction. He relaxed a little, sitting back in his chair and taking another sip of the awful black tea.

Aliyah’s eyes flicked to something behind Connor and remained there for several seconds. Connor turned and saw a couple walking down the sidewalk toward them, both with suspicious expressions. The woman whispered something to the man, and they abruptly crossed to the other side of the street. As they continued on their way, they occasionally turned back as if to make sure Connor and Aliyah weren’t going to follow and murder them.

Connor sighed and shook his head. “It’s going to be like that for a while, you know.”

“A while? Bashir, I don’t know where you come from, but that is my entire life here in America. Everywhere I go, people give me odd looks. Maybe they think I’m a terrorist, or maybe they just don’t like the hijab or my abaya. Just wearing my traditions makes me suspect to them.”

Connor understood all too well. But he’d also experienced the other side of things. In the military, he’d been truly equal. He hadn’t been a Middle Easterner, he’d just been a soldier. And it had been the same way at the agency.

“You don’t see it that way?” Aliyah asked.

Connor opened his mouth to respond, then paused, searching for the correct words. “I… I do know what you mean. And what you’re saying is almost certainly true in some cases. I don’t discount your experience.”

“But…”

“I think that those attitudes aren’t as prevalent as we think. I think most people you see staring… they’re just naturally curious. Your clothes are different from what they’re used to.”

“Perhaps,” she said. “But I tell you, it is also fear. And truthfully, being in this country and seeing the things I’ve seen, I can’t say that I blame them. Fear does strange things to people.”

“Fear is the mind killer, Muad’Dib,” Connor said, quoting one of his favorite movies. Aliyah frowned, obviously not getting the reference. He waved a hand. “Forget it. I agree with you. I just wish everyone could intellectualize the subject like you.”

Aliyah sat back in her seat, eyes narrowing. For a moment, Connor thought he’d gone too far, but he just couldn’t get the idea out of his head that she was a good woman caught up with the wrong people.

“My father is a very passionate man,” she said. “He is a true believer. He believes the downfall of this society is the modern age of capitalism and imperialism, and he has been able to rally many to his cause because of his passion.”

Connor took a stab in the dark. “But you don’t believe the same?”

“I don’t. For all his preaching, he forgets that it is capitalism and imperialism that allow him the opportunity to speak his words—that allow him to be here in this city. If neither of those things existed, these opportunities wouldn’t have been possible. I’ll grant him that there are many aspects of capitalism and imperialism that deserve criticism. But they are not the evil he makes them out to be.”

Aliyah suddenly glanced around them as if she was worried someone had overheard her. “I apologize.”

“Apologize?” Connor said. “What have you done that you need to be sorry for?”

“We have come here for tea, and I am subjecting you to the philosophic differences I have with my father. I don’t mean to.”

“Not at all. We’re having a conversation—nothing wrong with that.”

Connor took a breath, weighing the words he was about to say carefully. There was a part of him that just wanted to relax and enjoy this time with a beautiful woman, but another side of him was screaming at him to remember why he was here in the first place.

“My parents were killed when I was very young,” he began. “I… I could’ve very easily turned to someone like your father for support and guidance. Listening to him speak now, I know, with one-hundred-percent certainty, that my younger self would’ve been all over that.”

“But not anymore?”

“Now I try to make decisions based on practicality, not emotions.”

Aliyah smiled. “Don’t let my father hear you saying that. He is a fervent man, and obsessive about his beliefs. He demands complete loyalty from the people around him and has no patience for those not committed to the cause. Especially those who give mere lip service to Allah’s commandments. I believe the only reason he is lenient with my sisters and me is because my mother would’ve wanted it that way.” She paused. “Like you, my mother was killed when I was