Shadow of the giant

this vidman that only her face would be visible. She held
herself almost expressionless, for at this distance any kind of expression
would look histrionic.
    "Once you spoke to me in the corridors of that sterile
place. You said only one word. Salaam, you said. Peace, you said. It filled my
heart with joy."
    She shook her head once, slowly.
    "Come forth from your hiding place, O Caliph Alai, and
own your work. Or if it is not your work, then repudiate it. Join me in
grieving for the innocent."
    Because her hand could not be seen, she flicked with her
fingers to tell the vidman to zoom away and include the whole scene again.
    Now she let her emotions run free. She wept on her knees,
then wailed, then threw herself across the bodies and howled and sobbed. She
let it go on for a full minute. The version for western eyes would have
captions over this part, but for Hindus, the whole shocking scene would be
allowed to linger, uninterrupted. Virlomi defiling herself upon the bodies of
the unwashed dead; but no, no, Virlomi purified by their martyrdom. The people
would not be able to look away.
    Nor would the Muslims who saw it. Some would gloat. But
others would be horrified. Mothers would see themselves in her grief. Fathers
would see themselves in the corpses of the men who had been unable to save their
children.
    What none of them would hear was the thing she had not said:
Not a single threat, not a single curse. Only grief, and a plea to Caliph Alai.
    To the world at large, the video would excite pity and
horror.
    The Muslim world would be divided, but the portion that
rejoiced at this video would be smaller each time it was shown.
    And to Alai, it would be a personal challenge. She was
laying responsibility for this at his door. He would have to come out of
Damascus and take command himself. No more hiding indoors. She had forced his
hand. Now to see what he would do.
     
     
    The video swept around the world, first on the nets, then
picked up by broadcast media—high-resolution files were conveniently provided
for download. Of course there were charges that the whole thing was faked, or
that Hindus had committed the atrocities. But no one really believed that. It
fit too well with the record that Muslims had created for themselves during the
Islamic wars that raged in the century and a half before the Buggers came. And
it was unbelievable to imagine Hindus defiling the dead as these had been
defiled.
    Such atrocities were meant to strike terror in the hearts of
the enemy. But Virlomi had taken this one and turned it into something else.
Grief. Love. Resolve. And, finally, a plea for peace.
    Never mind that she could have peace whenever she wanted,
merely by submitting to Muslim rule. The world would understand that complete
submission to Islam would not be peace, but the death of India and its
replacement by a land of puppets. She had made this so clear in earlier vids
that it did not need to be repeated.
    They tried to keep the vid from Alai, but he refused to let
them block what he saw on his own computer. He watched it over and over again.
    "Wait until we can investigate and see if it's
true," said Ivan Lankowski, the half-Kazakh aide he trusted to be closest
to him, to see him when he was not acting the part of Caliph.
    "I know that it's true," said Alai.
    "Because you know this Virlomi?"
    "Because I know the soldiers who claim to be of
Islam." He looked at Ivan with tears streaming down his cheeks. "My
time in Damascus is done. I am Caliph. I will lead the armies in the field. And
men who act this way, I will punish with my own hand."
    "That is a worthy goal," said Ivan. "But the
kind of men who massacred that village in India and nuked Mecca in the last
war, they're still out there. That's why your orders are not being obeyed. What
makes you think you can reach your armies alive?"
    "Because I truly am Caliph, and if God wants me to lead
his people in righteousness, he will protect me," said Alai.
     
     
     
    11
     
    AFRICAN GOD
     
     
    From: [email protected]
    Posted at site: ShivaDaughter.org
    Re: Suffering daughter of Shiva, the Dragon grieves at the
wounds he caused you.
     
    May not the Dragon and the Tiger be lovers, and bring forth
peace? Or if there is no peace, may not the Tiger and the Dragon fight
together?
     
     
    Bean and Petra were surprised when Peter came to see them in
their little house on the grounds of the Hegemony compound. "You honor our
humble abode," said Bean.
    "I do, don't I,"