The Veiled World

By Terence Alfred Aditon

420

In a world torn by war and terror, a pandemic descends, decimating every nation, leading finally to the creation of a World Peace Treaty. To achieve the Peace, the world has been divided into the democracies and constitutional monarchies called The New West, and the theocratic governments, ruled by religion, which the West calls The Veiled World, although those countries call themselves The Faithful World. Neutral lands and waters separate the two, although pirates and mercenaries still operate in those areas, pursued by The World Police.

Alyssa Craig, a noted young professor, has presented a paper at the World League, where a young king from The Veiled World has seen her and fallen in love with her. Alyssa then won a prize, a cruise given to twenty young women for their scholarly and scientific achievements, but their ship was attacked by pirates who would traffic the women into their criminal underground. Alyssa is saved by the young king who brings her as his concubine to his Fortress City in his home country. The story shows how she makes a life there as she tries to regain her freedom, her adventures there, her effect on the people she encounters, and the World Peacekeepers' efforts to reclaim her.

This book is the prequel to Land of Angels: Book 1--The Holy Path.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Dec 29, 2022
• ISBN: 9798886857863

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The Veiled World

Terence Alfred Aditon

ISBN 979-8-88685-785-6 (paperback)

ISBN 979-8-88685-786-3 (digital)

Copyright © 2022 by Terence Alfred Aditon

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Christian Faith Publishing

832 Park Avenue

Meadville, PA 16335

www.christianfaithpublishing.com

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Earlier Version 2013 Book Baby.

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Prelude: How It Began

Overture: Alyssa at the World League

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Postlude

About the Author

For Mom, for Dad, for Al, and for Matthew, my great loves.

Prelude: How It Began

Peace had come at last. The price was a divided world.

More than one hundred years before, an Iron Curtain had separated East and West. The uneasy years of the following century became, over time, unremitting terrorism, cultural and religious wars.

Then pandemic struck. The Sickness came out of nowhere and killed half the population of the planet. Death of any kind had finally become too much to bear. People everywhere clamored for peace.

An armistice was declared. Long and exhausting negotiations began, concluding at last with the signing of The World Treaty, the Peace. It required regular meetings to keep its clauses current and to make its enforcement rigorous.

To achieve that Peace, the planet had to be divided into two ‘worlds.' One side was The Veiled World, nations whose governments were based on religious law and who called themselves The Faithful World. The visually dramatic clothing of their peoples, the required head coverings, and in some places, complete veiling of women, symbolized for many the difference between the two worlds.

The other side of the world had secular governments, constitutional monarchies, or democratic republics. They were called The New West, and all of them had strengthened the separations of church and state. Personal liberties and freedom of religion were guaranteed, but no specific religion was permitted to enter the public sphere. Orators could refer to God and God's blessings, but civil law in the Western tradition prevailed. Some parts of Old Asia were in this group of countries, but even they called themselves ‘The New West.'

To separate the two worlds, the Treaty fixed neutral areas of the oceans and lands that neither world could claim. Neither side could enter those neutral lands or waters without specific permission from both sides, unless it was a case of the most extreme emergency requiring rescue from whatever help might be nearest.

Once the conditions of separation were set forth by the Treaty, there had been a brief grace period when people could move out of one part of the world to enter the other. Some left the West to join the Faithful, some left the Veiled lands to come to the West. After that, the Veiled lands were closed. No diplomat, President, Nobel Peace Laureate, or emissary of any sort was permitted to visit. The West remained open but the Veiled World had shut its borders.

The one place where the two worlds met was at the World League, the new incarnation of the old United Nations. The League was in New America, and all meetings were there, never in the Veiled countries.

If dissent was anywhere in the Veiled World, it was well hidden. Of course there were rumors also of spy groups between the West and the Veiled lands, but the Western news feeds rarely even mentioned this. The Peace still felt very fragile.

Although they agreed to share scientific and medical advances, each side had its preferred technologies. The oil-rich Faithful continued and refined the old technologies, plus using solar and wind power. The New West was developing crystal-based power that made old energy sources obsolete.

Violence had not disappeared. There were still mercenaries in the outlying lands that had become a world of its own, seeking to gain access to precious mineral wealth. There were pirates in the neutral waters and slavery was the hidden menace they posed. Women and boys were particular targets of the pirates, who supplied sex slaves in an underworld that had survived even the Treaty.

The Sickness had at last died out as a pandemic, but outbreaks would still occasionally flare, coming out of nowhere, affecting people of all ages. Where it did not kill, it left the survivors sterile. A vaccine was only partially successful, and a cure still evaded the medical researchers.

So now the world was divided, not a paradise, but for the most part, at peace.

Overture: Alyssa at the World League

Alyssa Craig was an academic star, the youngest Professor of Historical Linguistics at the University of the New West. In the academic world and beyond she was known for her brilliant work and widely read publications.

Her University Mentor was Dr. Lawrence Sanderson, whom she called ‘Dr. S.' They had been invited to present their co-authored paper ‘Resisting Seduction: Lessons from Homer,' at a Special Panel of the World League. Such Panels were occasionally convened to honor the new range of university and other types of research made possible by the Peace.

Because the title of their paper included the word ‘seduction,' it had generated greater than usual interest. During the peace negotiations, opponents in both worlds had tried to mount protests against the Treaty, saying that it was a trap or a lie. They painted horrible pictures of tyranny and repression if the Treaty were enacted. The New West Editorials and pro-peace media had dubbed those efforts ‘misguided seduction.'

Happily the opponents of the Peace had lost, although their tactics had been so strong, they sometimes seemed about to win the day. That was why such a large complement of delegates and visitors from various countries was expected along with the many other ‘regulars' who attended these events.

In any case, the Special Panels were always an occasion. Those attending would include leaders of industry, aspiring political candidates, the current crop of ‘beautiful people,' philanthropists, entertainers who supported special social and medical causes, and socialites who loved the attention and the high visibility of the Panel presentations.

For the many scholars attending, it would be a combined conference and mini-vacation. Old friends and colleagues from various Western countries would catch up with each other in person instead of meeting across the distances on their personal viewing screens. And it was a chance to hear firsthand what would be the talk of political and intellectual circles in the coming weeks.

As customary before these talks, an early-morning breakfast meeting would be held for delegates and guests. It was less a time to eat than it was an opportunity for people to see and be seen. The breakfasts added to the ‘stir' of the event, setting excitement in motion, with interesting people everywhere, talking about all sorts of ideas, and enjoying feeling important enough to have eager listeners eavesdropping on their conversations.

Panelists usually breakfasted apart from the others. Alyssa, Dr. Sanderson, and his wife, Emily Walker, had breakfast in a private courtesy suite. The suites were a gift to the presenters, to enable them to prepare up to the last minute and without distraction. It was a boon to Alyssa and her mentor, introverts who appreciated the chance to share their thoughts away from the crowd, before their lecture and the party that would follow.

Emily appreciated the privacy as well. A famed artist, she spent much time in solitary work and thought. In the old monarchies, her family had been nobility, and Alyssa addressed her as ‘Lady Em,' a term of true affection that also expressed Alyssa's high regard for her wondrous talent.

Emily had been touched by the graceful compromise of the title. It gave her a distinct identity with Alyssa apart from her husband's powerful role in the young woman's life. Their families had long been connected through philanthropic work and social policy support. Both women had been raised to believe that helping others was essential to true personhood.

Alyssa's family had been very rich, old money that had been well-invested and generously shared with environmental causes and with the establishment of programs and services for the poor. She remembered a childhood trip with her father when the Peace was still young, and need and devastation were still widespread.

She had accompanied her father to an area that had been overtaken first by drought and then massive rains that had turned the parched fields into muddy rivers.

Oh, Daddy, what shall we do? She had gasped at the ravaged scene before her.

That's exactly the right question, he had assured her, giving her his soft linen handkerchief for her sorrowful, helpless tears. This is what we ask: How can I help? And whom can I help?

She had watched her father and the rest of the team organizing housing, bringing in food and clean water supplies, distributing clothing, setting up prefabricated medical clinics and temporary schoolhouses, training local people as field emergency workers in the process. ‘Help' was the motto of her family's membership in the World Philanthropies Council. It had stayed with her in her fieldwork. She made sure to set up housing facilities, medical centers, and food and water supplies for the workers on her teams' archaeological digs before work started.

Lawrence Sanderson's family, though not possessing Alyssa's fortune or Emily's titles, had deep feelings for social justice. They gave time and money to causes that promoted such programs, often joining rescue operations. Lawrence, as a young man on one of these missions with his family, had encountered Emily and fallen in love with her. He had long ago made his own name in academic circles, and mentoring Alyssa now was all the easier for their families' shared past.

*****

It was almost 11:00 am, time for the presentation, and they went down to the stage, Emily going to her reserved front row seat. It had been agreed beforehand that Dr. Sanderson would be the presenter. Though Alyssa was known in her own right, having presented many of her own papers, she loved to watch her mentor and hear his beautiful voice.

After a brief introduction by a New American delegate and welcoming applause, Dr. Sanderson began. The audience before him became totally silent as he started to speak.

The speaker's lectern was under bright lights, so that Alyssa, sitting behind him, was half in shadows as he read. The paper cited the times in history when populations were ‘seduced' by lies that had led them into tyranny. Its first illustration was a story from Homer's great epic, The Odyssey, the tale of Ulysses's sea voyage at the end of the Trojan War, back to his home in Ithaca. On the way, the ship had to pass through seas where the sirens lived. They were enchantresses, sea nymphs whose music was rumored to be irresistible and lethal, luring sailors into the sea, to their death.

Dr. Sanderson read from their paper, the story familiar to many in the audience: Fearing for himself and his crew, and on the advice of Circe, the sympathetic immortal, Ulysses poured wax into his sailors' ears so that they would not hear the sirens' singing, and jump to their deaths in the sea. Then Ulysses had his men tie him to the ship's mast, to resist the sirens' compelling music. He was a man, a mortal, however heroic, and knew he would be susceptible to their fatal magic.

The audience was pin-drop silent as he continued the story: "Ulysses explained to his men that their very lives were in jeopardy if they heard the siren calls. He ordered them to keep him tightly bound with strong ropes, and no matter what he commanded, not to untie him until they had passed the sirens' domain.

"The sailors obeyed his warning, even tying their king more tightly when he raged and cursed and ordered them to let him go. So beguiling and tempting was the sirens' music that Ulysses, filled with desire, struggled wildly as he tried to get free. When the ship finally sailed beyond the sirens' realm, their music fading away in the distance, Ulysses and his crew were left exhausted and relieved.

This tale of the sirens' song became the metaphor we use to the present day, to describe deception and its dangers, the illusions of rumors and their false promises of safe pleasure. It often takes heroic resistance to preserve life and liberty.

Dr. Sanderson looked up and asked the distinguished audience before him, Do we not wish even today that we could stop people from hearing siren songs, stop them from believing lies?

There was a murmur of appreciative laughter from the political leaders and the array of officials and luminaries sitting before him. As they did so, Dr. Sanderson turned to acknowledge Alyssa. Though the brightest lights shone on her mentor, Alyssa could be seen between light and shadow, her tight blond curls unmistakable even in the half-light.

Turning back to the lectern, he continued, We will see, in the examples to follow, the resistance—or the success—of the siren songs in our history, and their effect on the way we have governed ourselves.

The rest of the paper showed the many instances in history where apparent advantages offered were often unethical, lies, and half-truths to persuade people into alliances that often were their undoing. He drew upon his and Alyssa's research from ancient as well as modern times, describing words that had double meanings, that deceived trusting peoples who thought they could make life better. The examples offered in the paper were learned, splendid, beautifully explained. It concluded with the role of powerful armies, governments, and leaders, who saw themselves as superior beings, bringing benefits to a people who were, essentially, subjugated under foreign laws.

Alyssa noted the many heads nodding but not all. She saw that some in the audience seemed rigidly resistant to Dr. Sanderson's words. Even in the shadowed half-light, she could see the disapproval on their faces and knew by their mode of dress that they were leaders from the Veiled World.

She saw the problem immediately: the paper dealt with belief, and for many in the Veiled World, ‘belief' meant religious differences. Alyssa knew that many of their delegates were very sensitive to any comment on those beliefs or practices, especially from Western commentators. In past years, despite repeated assurances in all the meetings that created the Treaty, Veiled World delegates continued to hear the word ‘believing' as a Western code word for "gullibility' or ‘deception.' This was in spite of the fact that people in the West practiced many different religions—including the Faithful religion—and held a wide variety of religious beliefs.

Alyssa wished that they had prefaced the paper with a disclaimer, that research into the influence of belief on behavior was simply a method of study, but realized that a disclaimer would not have mattered. Discussions of belief raised powerful emotions among the Faithful delegates, who saw themselves always as the targets of critical and scientific rejection by the West. It was a point that the Treaty could not, by itself, resolve. Over time, some way would have to be found—if it could—to establish at least some basic trust over the issue, between the two worlds.

Alyssa could see that one of the disapproving leaders, wearing the dress of the Veiled World, was a young man who was shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Similarly dressed older men were sitting on each side of him, looking at him, not at the speaker. After a moment, when the young man in the center seemed to settle down again, the other two men watched him for a brief time and then refocused their attention on the stage. Alyssa recognized their faces and the names from the list of attendees she had seen. The man in the center was the young king from the country that the West called Ramad. The men at either side were his top delegates to the World League.

Alyssa saw that Dr. Sanderson, absorbed in his presentation, did not see the faces of the audience as she could from her chair. She would discuss all of this with him after the reception that was scheduled to follow their paper. Meanwhile, she continued to study the seated listeners, alert now to the somber faces of leaders who were aligned with the Faithful.

Her gaze kept returning to the young king, whom she now realized, was steadily watching her. The elegant folds of his fine garments made him seem lithely graceful, even as he sat there unmoving.

‘Well,' she thought to herself, ‘the watcher and the watched. Who is watching whom?' She smiled at her thought, and realized with a shock that a hint of a smile now appeared on the king's face.

Oh no! she said to herself. "He thinks I am smiling at him."

Her disciplined sense of public appearance came into play, bred by the many presentations and papers she had given. She had long been seen as a brilliant scholar and was part of a young cohort that was celebrated for its youthful brilliance. Her intellectual gifts had been admired from early in her school days. Young scholars were made to feel especially valued in The New West, where so many scholars and researchers, engineers, and doctors, had died in the Sickness. Alyssa was grateful for the recognition she and the others had received, but she resisted smiling to herself at this latest thought. She knew that if she did so, the young king would again think she was again smiling at him.

Hoping to distract the king's attention back to Dr. Sanderson, Alyssa's gaze assumed an air of easy indifference to her surroundings and to the listeners. She looked at an empty spot in the space above the audience and then focused on her copy of the paper being presented.

Only once did she look up, and in the sweep of her glance across the audience and to her mentor, she saw that the young king was still looking at her, though now he was not smiling. His gaze had power. To her surprise, she felt it as an almost physical touch.

Wondering at this briefly, she quickly dismissed it. Men looked at her; this was no new thing. She had been told often enough that she was beautiful. Beautiful or not, men looked at women, and women looked at women. All women were closely scrutinized. This aspect of behavior seemed deeply resistant to change. The only true anonymity lay in being a colorless and nondescript male. Such men could be anonymous as no woman could. These truths drifted through her mind as she returned to reading the paper she held.

At the conclusion of the talk, she looked up again, to smile at her mentor who beckoned her to stand with him as the audience politely applauded. With a look of delight on her face, she stood but did not come all the way forward. Standing a couple of steps behind him, she shook her head and lightly pointed toward Dr. Sanderson, acknowledging his senior status and her admiration for him. The audience clearly approved her deference and modesty, a light laughter and more applause accompanying their exit from the stage.

You were wonderful, Dr. S., she whispered as they left the stage.

He was pleased, as always, by Alyssa's kindness and warmth toward him. He loved his wife greatly and devotedly, but Alyssa was so attractive in her ways and not only because of her beauty. He could not help feeling, and resisting, the temptation to fall in love with her. But it went no further than that. Alyssa was as faithful to her husband's memory as Lawrence Sanderson was to his living wife.

Alyssa had married at the young age of twenty-one to the man with whom she had shared childhood days. He had turned twenty-one in the month before she did. Their parents had lived in adjoining houses and had been friends for years before these children were born. After their birth, their children had seemed to bond at their first sight of each other in their earliest infancy. All their lives they had loved each other in ways that no science could explain. Their marriage was simply an inevitable next step in the progress of their lives and love, and both sets of parents generously supported their union.

Such a young marriage was unusual since people in the West generally did not marry until they were close to thirty or even older. Alyssa was grateful for this too-brief marriage to her heart-mate, whom she had adored. They had had three months before an unpredictable resurgence of the plague had caught him up in its web, and he was gone. This had happened two years earlier.

Dr. Sanderson, now an old man, often wished he could hold and comfort Alyssa. He could feel the grief that was a foundation line in her life now. He wanted the touch of her, as well as to comfort her. That, however, would be a dreadful thing to do, to use her vulnerability for his own benefit. Even the thought of it made him ashamed.

When he gave in to imagination and the fantasy of having her beside him, it made him feel guilty over Emily. He loved his wife so deeply yet was torn over his love for Alyssa. It was like a small storm in his soul, scattering his determination and attention. It roiled him with an inner vision that held her image and his ardor. And as though Alyssa could read him—she undoubtedly could, for she seemed to see through every pretense and mask—she was warm and daughterly, making sure always that his wife was present or nearby when they worked together on their research.

Alyssa had cultivated her friendship with Emily not only for their family histories, and not only for propriety and the protection of her relationship with Dr. S. Most of all, she valued and admired Emily Walker for the great artist she was. Her paintings deserved their fame for the innovations in her striking colors and themes. Alyssa loved to see glimpses of her new pieces in progress, the two women comfortable with their place in each other's lives.

So while Lawrence Sanderson could not totally suppress all he felt, the old scholar was grateful to Alyssa for her friendship with his wife. He knew he had been fortunate that Alyssa's character was so fine. She might have used his love to advance herself; she might have been indifferent to the wife he also loved. Instead, the women's warm connection strengthened him as he struggled with his feelings, mostly able to keep them well buried under the scholarly patterns and routines of everyday university life.

Only once did he broach the subject, after a long day of writing and rewriting, when Alyssa still seemed fresh and energetic, and he wished for nothing more than to find a bed and have a nap. Ah, I wish I were younger, Alyssa! he said, all his yearnings embodied in that statement.

You are the perfect age, Dr. S., she had said, smiling and using the respectful term of endearment, though he had asked her endless times to call him Lawrence, and to call his wife Emily. Alyssa added lightly and with a sincere smile, Who else would ever have been my perfect mentor, except you?

At that point, as though she had wished or willed it, Emily had walked into the room, and Alyssa gave her a quick hug, and said, Enough for today! We've worn each other out with this research! Emily had understood everything and hugged Alyssa in turn.

*****

Dr. Sanderson and Alyssa walked together from the auditorium toward the reception area. Along the way, some people caught their eye and waved or stopped to say a complimentary word, a small river of guests moving toward the open room where these parties were always held. Great windows, treated to refract light in ways friendly to the human eye, ran floor to ceiling around one wall of the room. Sofas and chairs were placed strategically about, each with access to little tables within easy reach for holding drinks or small plates of food.

Emily was already in the reception hall and had staked out a small sofa and its table. She waved to them discreetly as they entered, and they made their way to her through the clusters of well-wishers, stopping now and again for a brief comment.

Two of the League delegates from the Veiled countries stepped forward, saying Dr. Sanderson's name, stopping him by standing almost directly in front of him. Then they stood together, shoulder to shoulder, and spoke only to him. Alyssa had fully expected that they would ignore her and stood beside her mentor, amused and saddened by his dismay.

The old man could never get used to this behavior, though Alyssa and Emily had talked with him about it several times. In Alyssa's mind, as long as these men were part of the Faithful world, they had no choice but to act as they did. She understood their behavior, though she found it abysmally rude and repellent. Her standing there patiently was a result of her civility and her scholarship, though her heart and emotions were deeply protective of women's dignity.

As Alyssa watched the delegates, she saw the men's nervousness over each other's judgment, afraid that other Veiled delegates would condemn them if they treated Alyssa with deference. Better not to speak to her at all. It was too dangerous, for it could provoke other diplomats' lies and jealousies. The Veiled delegates feared that if they spoke to Alyssa openly, and as an equal, they would be accused of falling into Western ways, that speaking to her would be flirtation, and forbidden familiarity. Alyssa could only think, ‘What a morass.' The delegates' lives were so complicated by Western gender freedoms.

Meanwhile, Dr. Sanderson was shuffling in place, uncomfortable despite their flattering words to him in formal language, spoken with beautiful accents. He controlled his impatience but felt personally assaulted by the manner in which they turned away from Alyssa to speak only with him. In the brief time they detained him with their compliments, Alyssa could feel their anxiety over her presence and nearness. She looked at the men with neutral detachment, unaffected by their nervous shifting about to make sure that they were looking away from her.

Despite all of Alyssa's and Emily's counsels, the delegates' behavior unsettled the old scholar. His face had a look of stern disbelief that he had never been able to suppress when dealing with the Veiled World delegates. Like Alyssa, he understood their behavior all too well. But he was also a man, and now he was a man angry at other men, in ways that only men can be angry at each other when a woman is the issue between them.

My wife is waiting for us, Dr. Sanderson told the two delegates, stopping the conversation they were trying to have with him. Their perplexity when he said this pleased him. He smiled to excuse himself, offering his arm to Alyssa in an old-fashioned way that touched her heart. The delegates retreated at this final breach of etiquette as though from an electric shock, backing away into the crowd.

The two went arm in arm toward Emily, who had picked three chilled glasses of something white and sparkling off a tray when a waiter had gone by and had set the drinks on the little table in front of the sofa.

Other party guests, eyeing them from their own chatting groups, left them to their own company for a little while to give them time to rest and converse.

But Alyssa knew that others wanted to speak to them, and especially to speak with Dr. Sanderson, renowned in and out of academia. It gave a person bragging rights to say that he was a friend or acquaintance. She did not think about her own achievements or that people might want to speak to her too. Her happiness over her friends' fame, and her own preoccupations, foreclosed those thoughts.

*****

Their time of respite was small. After a few minutes together, Alyssa saw that the unspoken interval of polite distance was coming to an end. People were eyeing Emily too, for she was also a ‘person to know,' her art having broken new ground between the abstract and the representational. People saw their own stories in Emily's paintings, in what Alyssa saw as the spiritual magic of Emily's artistic gifts.

Alyssa decided to give them time as a couple, so she did not invite Emily to go with her as women do when they decide to use a restroom. Rather, she simply got up and said to their questioning faces, I'll be back in a few minutes, I'm just going over there, and she signaled toward the far corner, using the vague directional sign that women make, that is universally understood and unquestioned.

As she edged away from the sofa, she was satisfied to see some of the delegates beginning to come toward Dr. Sanderson and Emily. The focus on them enabled her to slip away more easily, and she almost breathed her relief audibly when she entered the cool women's lounge. It was a combined restroom and retreat area with little sofas. It was empty now, for which she was grateful.

Going to the sinks, she ran some cold water and splashed her face, dabbing at it with the one of the new cloth towels developed by a group of young scientists in the last decade. The towels were sterile, recyclable, very soft, used even for babies. Alyssa patted at her face with pleasure, and feeling refreshed, she pushed her curls into some order behind the band that held them. She planned to rejoin her mentor and his wife for only a few minutes and then take her leave and return home. Her house was near the university, set above a small lake. It held the quiet she loved and savored, where she could think about her husband and their love, and let herself cry a bit, and let the time add a tiny bit of healing to her sore and aching heart.

*****

As she came out of the lounge, she saw the young king who had smiled at her from the audience. He was standing nearby with the two men who had been seated with him and was positioned so that he could see Alyssa coming. He said something briefly to the men.

She could see from their body language and their faces that one of them started to protest while the other watched the king. The king made a sharp gesture with one hand, at which the protesting man stopped immediately, and then the two men stepped back slightly as the king left them.

Walking swiftly across the small space, he came directly up to Alyssa. I was very interested in your research, he said, without introducing himself. He knew there was no need to do so.

We found it interesting too, Alyssa replied, friendly but cool. He had not said her name nor addressed her by title. Alyssa ignored his rude behavior. He is trying to have the best of both worlds, she thought wryly, not calling me ‘Doctor' or ‘Professor' and not daring to use my first name. Her gaze at him was steady, waiting.

Her demeanor surprised him, and then he found himself delighted with the challenge of her and an eager sense of wanting to know her better. Generally, women looked at him with a flirtatiousness they found difficult to control, a tilt of the head, a softened response to his virile presence. He saw none of these familiar reactions in Alyssa. She simply stood there, not trying to be alluring, though he could see that she was extraordinarily beautiful. There was a simplicity about her, the same that he saw in the marble beauty of Western statuary, the female in her mystery. He was surprised at the effect of her self-possession upon him, her disinterest in his princely title and power, her steady look, her silence. He felt himself overtaken by her in a way he could hardly comprehend.

Looking at her, he had to control his heartbeat, so moved was he by her unexpected completeness, her self-possession, and her loveliness. He wanted to take her hand, to say all sorts of warm and soft words to her, to lead her out of this place to somewhere that they could be alone, where he could simply be with her. Yet he was too much the king, too well disciplined in his ways, to be so foolhardy as to risk any of those actions.

He could not know that she was reading his thoughts, for she could see in his face, his eyes, his body language, what he thought he was concealing so well. She observed it analytically, a hard-edged understanding that he was used to charming women. Still, and she did not know why, his reaction touched her. She continued to wait.

The king smiled and seemed to regroup his thoughts. My name is Hamid, he said simply.

‘Oh, at last,' she thought. He is playing one of the boring games men try with women. She knew he had many names and titles, and he probably thought that saying his name this simply would disarm her. Other women he had met had caught their breath at his naturalness and apparent simplicity. This time, however, his skill did not work.

You know my name from the program, she replied, continuing her steady and disinterested gaze.

Alyssa, he murmured.

Hamid, she replied coolly.

So now we have had proper introductions, he said in a dry voice that triggered her laughter.

So we have.

She saw the king's two men moving toward them, perhaps hoping to block the view of anyone seeing their conversation, and especially her laughter. The king was handsome, and though she did not care for bearded men, the cut of his beard suited him, short and tight to reveal a strong face. She could only imagine how a woman in his country would have reacted to this conversation.

Whatever that reaction, Alyssa did not enjoy these games played between men and women. She found them tedious and pretentious. He was trying to be regal, cool, but trying also to engage her. He expected at least a question, a remark, something that would reveal her interests or her character. She knew this and saw no point to it. Her impatience, though controlled, was at an end.

And now, she said, whatever the proper way to say it, good-bye, Hamid. He was relieved to see that she said this with a smile, but she waited no longer, moving quickly away from him to the sofa where Dr. Sanderson sat with his wife.

As she left him the king's two men quickly came to stand again at either side of him, waiting on his next move or word. For a minute, he just looked after Alyssa, surprised at the suddenness of her action. He was conscious of having to conceal all the contradictory feelings and strange excitement she had evoked in him, that shift within himself that he had never experienced.

To find some peace, he decided to ignore these feelings, to see them as a man's typical desire when meeting a beautiful woman. Still, for some reason, the situation left him feeling angry and empty. Abruptly, he turned to his men and said, We are leaving now.

His companions said nothing, the king's silence and the half-angry, half-questioning look in his eyes warning them to keep their own counsel. As the king's eyes cleared in their walk toward the waiting car, they were relieved to be away from the Western seductions of beautiful scholars who saw their king as simply another man.

They could not know that this scene at the World League would play endlessly in Hamid's mind, that the woman he was going to tease, the woman he was going to impress, remained indifferent to his presence and his power. He was angry, frustrated, feeling wretched that he had totally miscalculated how this beautiful woman would react to him.

He felt vengeful, wrathful, and then cursed himself for being an idiot. He had lived in the West, secretly, studying there, a university student whose identity was mostly concealed from others. Had he forgotten these women's independence so quickly? And why had he never gotten to know other women like this one, this brilliant beauty, who left him feeling weak with longing? He had seen other women who were academic superstars but had always felt uncomfortable to approach them.

Other men at the university had friends among both men and women, but Hamid had not been part of the easy connection that disregarded gender. He had learned so much in the West, he had made a few close male friends, but now as he left the World League, he felt that he had lived in isolation. He felt a sense of void, a longing for a woman he had seen only today, and only for a few hours. This made him angry again, and he chided himself that he had fallen into that most subtle Western romantic trap, so banal, so powerful.

He felt himself a fool.

He felt himself in love.

Chapter 1

The large, beautiful sailing ship was rocking peacefully as the sun began to set over the azure waters. Alyssa was on a cruise that was a newly created prize, set to be awarded every three years, to twenty young women who had made outstanding achievements in their fields. The ten-day journey along the safe waters would be a time to combine work and play. After short morning presentations of papers reflecting their current work, the women would spend their afternoons swimming, napping, reading, dreaming, playing games, making and listening to music, dancing.

The prize had been the brainchild of Emily Walker, supported by her husband, and as such, eagerly embraced by the Western Education Governors. Winners were chosen by the Governors after wide consultation with scientists and intellectuals in and out of the universities from across all the countries of the New West. Alyssa had been one of their unanimous choices for this first cohort of prize-winners.

The cruise had been launched with much celebration and publicity. The Western news feeds had eagerly described the happy occasion in great detail, glad to have a joyful event to report, after so many years of reporting countless sad events.

Alyssa leaned against the polished railing, savoring the sweet warm breeze, admiring the glorious