The Iron Man [Serial]

Atonement

The Roc flew toward a masonry platform built atop one mountain peak. Anchoring lines and bags were dropped as the skymen rotated screws and wing panels to slow the barque.

Samir named the place as Abbas Mooring Station.

"After the one who got assassinated?" I whispered to Murphy.

He looked down at me a moment. "Both Abbas were assassinated. But, you probably mean Abbas Hilmi. The one killed in İstanbul just before the war escalated?"

"Ha." Recent leaders of Egypt had been covered in my lessons with Alpha and Hypatia. 

"The platform's named for the elder of the two. He meant it to be a palace, some sort of health retreat, but it was never finished. Sky Navy took over in recent years."

I wondered if there were some advantage in the barques being moored in a high place. I supposed I could see it as a strategic advantage having military atop the Roof of Egypt. The view was outstanding; I could clearly see the plain around St. Katerine, its ancient monastery, and the surrounding peaks and wadis. In some directions, I could see to the sea.

Once the barque was securely moored, Nablus came with Fir'awn to guide us to from the Roc to the edge of the stone platform, where a metal tower supported a series of cables.

Cable-cars ran between Abbas Mooring Station and St. Katerine. I'd not ridden one before, but recognized the suspended gondolas from photos in the Review during Resort Season, when models were depicted spending the Candlefast holiday either in Alpine Chalets or on Mediterranean pleasure cruises in crisp white clothing.

"How do they get the steam-cab down?" I asked.

"No worries," Nablus said, "we've a special sling for vehicles."

We were split between two of the cable-cars constructed of metal, wood, and glass. Murphy and I sat opposite each other, with the luggage on the floor between us and Jericho remaining on a short lead at Murphy's side.

Murphy seemed occupied with calming his dog as the suspended car dropped free of the boarding platform and swung on the overhead cable.

I turned about to view our surroundings. The Roc remained moored with its balloon still plump and cylindrical. I could see skymen pushing the white Hispano steam-cab towards the metal tower. On outcroppings about Abbas, were multiple Ray devices. Below was a steep trail, worn lighter than the surrounding rock.

A second metal tower was anchored in the valley below. As our cable-cars stopped at the lowest point, we opened the doors to exit with our luggage. We waited a short while for the Hispano to follow. Suspended as it was, the cab could be pushed into alignment with the lower platform. The sling was removed and then Samir climbed into the steam-cab to drive it down a ramp along one side.

It was a short ride to the al-Isra home. We drove along the main road lined in public buildings that seemed to increase with age as we went, and then turned onto a narrow drive that sloped uphill. There we came to a modest family compound of several houses sharing a walled yard.

"That's my uncle's house," Murphy said, awkwardly gesturing while also holding a leash and carrying a sitar case. "Neighbors from the Jebeliya helped us build it, during the war. We all lived there at first: Sheikh Jibril and Sina, Laila; Saif's first wife, Hala, who was Sina's nanny; Ilham and Fahim, and my mother, Maya and I. Nablus' mother, Metro, was here sometimes, but she already had the house in El-Tor, then."

I nodded, understanding that during the Great War Sheikh Jibril had been guardian to many women and children in the family.

"The small house is Hala's and the newer house with the animal shed behind is ours."

Murphy's family home was a single story like many others in the area, but appeared somewhat wider. It lacked the wide array of doors of Nablus home in Wadi Feiran, but had instead one central pair of doors.

Murphy released Jericho in the yard and asked me to follow him. I carried my luggage after him, into what appeared a common room with cushions and low tables, and sets of tall shelves holding housewares or books.

Me'rah called out to him, which was to say her quiet voice carried through the house as we entered.

"You may ask me to sleep elsewhere, but you may not ask Julien."

"Murphy." I didn't wish him to talk back to his mother for my sake.

"Look," Murphy said. He gestured with a suitcase. To the left there was a doorway, with curtain tied back, and beyond was what might have once been a bedroom of the house, but which had become an extension of the library.

Murphy followed and set his luggage down. He stepped across the small book-lined room to a narrow bi-fold door, which rattled as he opened it. He waited there for me to look inside.

It was a closet into which someone had added a bedroll atop some crates and cut a hole for a window which was now insulated from drafts by bits of old newspaper. The pegs and shelves showed items a young man might keep: weapons, tools, books, spare clothes.

"There was a time I wanted privacy so much I made it my room. You can sleep here, but you don't have to. Often, Maya, Jericho, and I end up sleeping near the fireplace. It gets cold at night."

"Not really room for two."

"I would be on top of you." Murphy laughed. "Not a good idea yet."

I had to smile at 'yet'.

"Jules," Murphy said, "tomorrow is an important holy day for my mother. Starting this evening she'll want quiet so she can pray and fast, but today she will cook a lot so we can all share a meal together."

"You need to go to prayer?"

"Ha, Bibi. My uncle will come back with us and ask to meet you...then probably give me a lecture about chastity."

"Sorry?"

"It is what it is." Murphy sighed.

-----

Chapter 99!  Tuesday update.

Audio media is "Atonement" from Journey soundtrack by Austin Wintory.