To The Stars

“Dvora,” she said stepping forward and taking his hand; her grip was firm, warm. “We have long suspected that Cassius was more than one person. But we can talk about that later, out of this sun. Can I help you with your bags?”

“I think I can manage. There is transportation?”

“Yes, out of sight of the road behind this wreck.”

It was the same sort of vehicle they used in the oil camp, a halftrack, with wheels at the front and tractor treads behind. Jan threw his bags into the back and climbed up into the high front seat next to Dvora. There were no doors. It was open at the sides for air, but a solid metal roof kept the sun off them. Dvora threw a switch on the steering column and they started forward silently, with only the slightest hum coming from the wheels.

“Electric?” Jan asked.

She nodded and pointed at the floor. “High density batteries under the floor, about four hundred kilos of them. But out here these vehicles are almost self-sufficient. The roof is covered with macro-yield solar cells, a new development. If you don’t put too many K’s on this thing during the day it will stay recharged without being plugged to the mains.” She turned her head and frowned slightly when she found him staring at her again.

“Please excuse me,” Jan said. “I know I’m being rude looking at you like that. But you remind me of someone I knew, a good many years ago. She was also an Israeli like you.

“Then you have been to our country before?”

“No. This is the first time. We met near here and I saw her again in England.”

“You’re lucky. Very few of our people get to travel at all.”

“She was — how shall I say — a very talented person. Her name was Sara.”

“Very common, like all of the biblical names.”

“Yes, I’m sure so. I heard her last name just once. Giladi. Sara Giladi.”

Dvora reached down and switched off the wheel motors. The halftrack clanked jerkily to a stop. Then she half-turned on the seat to face Jan, her face impassive, her large dark eyes staring into his.

“There are no coincidences in this world, Jan. Now I know why they sent me instead of one of the muscle-bound field agents. My name is Giladi as well. Sara was my sister.”

She was, she had to be. So much of Sara was in the turn of her cheek, her voice, reminding him constantly of the girl he had once known.

“Sara is dead,” Dvora said quietly. “Did you know that?”

His smile was twisted, humorless. “I was there when she was killed. We were together. Trying to get out of England. And there was no need for it, stupid, she shouldn’t have died. It was a terrible, terrible waste.”

Memory flooded back, the guns, the murder. And Thurgood-Smythe’s presence. All done under his command. Jan’s jaw was locked tight as he remembered and Dvora saw his fingers clench onto the grab handle.

“They told me nothing, no details,” Dvora said. “Just that she had died in the service. You… you were in love with her?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“It is to me. I loved her too. Can you tell me what happened?”

“Of course. It’s simple enough. We were trying to leave the country, but we never had a chance. We were betrayed from the very beginning. But she didn’t know that. Instead of surrendering she fired at them, made them shoot back, willing herself to die so they could not have her knowledge. And that is the most terrible part. They had known everything all of the time.”

“I didn’t hear anything about that. It is terrible, even more terrible for you because you are alive to remember it.”

“It is, yes, but I suppose that it is all past history. We can’t bring her back.”

That was what he said. But he was silent about the rest of his thoughts as the halftrack started up again. Perhaps Thurgood-Smythe and Security had physically killed her. But she had been betrayed by her own people, by her own organization right here in Israel. At least that is what Thurgood-Smythe had said. Where was the truth? He was going to try and find that out before he had anything more to do with these people.

It was a grueling drive and they had little to say to each other, locked in their own thoughts. The sand gave way to rock, then sand again. (?)tnbetnhotou Heights(?) hills; road signs in Hebrew began to appear and he realized that they were out of the Sinai and in Israel.

“Is it much further?”

“A half an hour, no more. We are going to Beersheba. He is waiting for you there.”

“Who?”

Her silence was an answer, and they drove on in the same silence after that. On a paved road now, through small, dusty villages and irrigated fields. Suddenly the desert was gone and everything was green. Across a valley a small city appeared ahead, but they turned off before they reached it. Up a narrow winding road to a solitary villa surrounded by jacaranda trees.

“Leave your bags,” Dvora said, climbing down and stretching. “They’ll be taken care of. But bring the metal box. He’s expecting that.”