Medjai: The Next Generation
Disclaimer: I own all characters except that of Ardeth Bay. This story is
for entertainment purposes only-no money is being made here. No
infringement intended.
Chapter 1
He had been changing during the past few months. They were subtle changes- his ebony hair was longer, not nearly what one would call conservative, and upon his face he'd grown a mustache and goatee. And his personality had shifted slightly. He was quieter, more guarded than usual. Most people probably wouldn't notice the changes in him, but Rose did. After all, they'd been good friends for the past two years.
She contemplated those thoughts as they strolled down the sidewalk in the dark. The night air was damp with a light rain, and she watched as Ali pulled his jacket tighter about him. She realized he was not a man who enjoyed cold, damp weather. Even though they were living in sunny southern California, during the winters, there were times when the nights could chill one to the bone. Tonight was one of those nights.
"Cold?" Rose inquired of her escort.
"Of course. I dislike winter," he replied with his deep, accented voice.
"But Ali," she taunted, "we are in southern California. You can't exactly call this winter."
"It is winter enough for me," he stated with a light tone.
Those light tones had come less often during the past few months. Rose wondered why Ali had been changing. It wasn't like there had been any drastic transformations in his life that she was aware of. His life had been exactly the same as it had been for the past two years. He walked to his computer programmer office job with Rose each day, always wearing a conservative suit and sporting his wire-rimmed glasses, then escorted her back home, only talking of mundane topics such as his day and the weather. Rarely did he astound her with his chatter, but he did often show more humor than of late. That humor always had surprised Rose, for Ali seemed to fit that typical computer programmer role. He had a handsomeness to him, but he was quiet and reserved. There was nothing bold or heroic about him. Even though he was tall and sinewy in definition, Rose could not picture Ali outside his neat, conservative role.
"You big sissy," she laughed.
He threw her a half smile, but she could see his heart was not in it.
"Ali, what's wrong?" she asked him, finally certain that something in his life was not right.
"Nothing," he insisted.
"I know you better than that," she chided. "Tell me."
She knew him, Ali acknowledged, but she only knew a portion of what he truly was. For two years now, they'd worked in the same high-rise office building among the throngs of people in southern California, walking to and from work together each day. They lived in the same apartment complex a half-mile from the office and occasionally shared a weekend dinner or movie. They were friends and nothing more. But Ali had sensed a shift in time and knew that the friendship he cherished so much would eventually be no more.
Ali hesitated in answering her and glanced down at her as they walked. She was a woman of medium height and build who moved with an athleticism that she attempted to hide. Her brunette hair was cut in a stylish chin-length bob and framed a finely structured face, full-pouty lips and tanned skin. What stood out most on her pretty face were her ice-blue eyes. Ali had noticed them immediately when he'd first laid eyes upon her for they were not only intriguing, but also familiar.
Ali halted his long stride and turned to her. She stood beside him in her long dark coat, her eyes curious.
"All right," he began. "What if I told you that I might have to be leaving soon?"
Rose's face pulled into a frown.
"Leaving? Where? For how long?"
Ali recognized the concern upon her face and answered, "Back home. I will be.needed there soon." He chose his words carefully so as not to give too much away.
Rose had always sensed this day would come. Ali was so guarded about his past and where he came from that she had known instinctively that something in his homeland had a strong hold over him. Most people probably thought his standoffish ways were just that of an eccentric computer geek. After all, he kept few friends aside from her. But regardless of whether or not he was eccentric or just untrusting, she always felt safe with him. Not safe in the sense that if a gang of thugs were to attack that he would fend them off in action hero fashion, but safe in the sense that she could trust him.
And trust was not a luxury Rose could afford to take lightly. Her past was dark and unhappy and because of that, she too maintained a reserved, cool façade. To most people she was just the simple travel agent who worked on the first floor of the high rise. If anyone knew, however, what she was hiding from, she was positive it would shock them immensely.
"Back home? To Egypt?" she inquired.
He nodded.
"What could possibly make you return there? I thought you enjoyed life here in California."
"I do," he said. "But I have family and.a duty to fulfill."
Rose chuckled and took his arm. They began to walk again and she said, "Duty? Ali, you make it sound so serious."
"It is, Rose," he said, halting them again. This time he covered her hand with his as it rested upon his arm. His hand was warm over her cold one and Rose shivered from the feel. It was strange, for she'd never felt anything from his plutonic touch before.
"It has to be serious to take me away from here.away from you," he added.
Rose felt a strange sensation in the pit of her stomach. His words were both delightful and foreboding at the same time. He was a sweet, tender man, and she cherished his friendship like none other. But the tone to his words caused her to feel that she would never see him again once he returned to his homeland.
"You are, after all," Ali continued, "my best friend."
Overcome with emotion, Rose fell into his arms. For the past five years, she had been hiding, suspect of everyone around her. Then she met Ali by simple accident, bumping into him in the lobby of their office building, and she had felt relief that finally she could trust another person and not have to be suspicious or anxious.
Now, he was leaving her.
She didn't want to cry, but the tears came of their own volition. Ali held her tightly to him and if Rose hadn't been so upset, she might have realized this was the first time they had embraced. After all, their relationship had never held any physical affection aside from her taking his arm or hand on occasion. They had simply been friends, nothing more. Being in his arms now though, somehow felt right and Rose wondered why it had taken her until this point to discover that.
It had taken her so long, Rose reminded herself, because of what her father and ex-fiancé had done to her. They'd controlled her, abused her. She'd been nothing but a pawn to them both. Someone for them to parade in front of others and feed their weak egos, making them feel strong. And because of that, she'd withdrawn from society, hidden from her old life and refused to grow close to anyone again. During the past two years, however, she had grown close to Ali but had been unable to see it until now.
Ali held Rose in his arms as she cried. He knew his leaving would hurt her. Though she pretended to be indifferent most times, he realized she had valued their friendship as much as he. The last thing he wanted to do was leave her, for he knew in his heart that she was harboring something horrible deep inside. She was vulnerable despite her outward appearance and if he could avoid what was to come, he surely would, but history and duty would reclaim him soon.
Something lurked in the shadows and Ali's attention quickly turned away from Rose as he looked around. Soon had arrived, he was certain. Releasing Rose, Ali smiled down at her and said, "Do not cry over my departure yet, Rose. I am still here."
"Until when?" she asked.
"I do not know," he fibbed. He knew. The change in the atmosphere around him, the feel of eyes upon his back told him duty had already arrived.
She wiped at the tears on her face and took in a steadying breath.
"All right. I won't cry now. But I just might later. After all, I don't want to lose my escort home. What will I do?"
"Get a car?" he questioned.
She shook her head. "You know I don't have a license."
"Who in California does not have a license?" Ali challenged, thankful for the change in topics as they resumed their walk.
"I don't like driving," she stated, though she knew perfectly well how to drive. Having a license, however, meant another form of documentation existed that could be used to find her. And she did not want to be found.
"In that case, I suppose we'll just have to walk to the movies tomorrow," Ali said, trying to make plans like he would with Rose for any other Saturday afternoon.
"Walking would be wonderful," she said on a laugh, reclaiming his arm and again striding next to him with her smooth athleticism.
Ali forced a smile and again scanned their surroundings. He had made a date for the next day, but when Rose arrived at his apartment, he would be gone.
**
It was subtle, but Ali's ears picked up the faint sound of his front door opening on its hinges regardless. He was in his bedroom, undressing from his suit and tie, and was surprised that they had arrived so quickly. It was not like his people to rush. Especially at night. They were perfect predators at night and usually lay in wait until the right moment. Whoever they had sent must have had a schedule to keep for such a hurried arrival.
Knowing there was nothing to fear, Ali pretended to be unawares and continued to undress. He threw his jacket, tie and glasses on the bed and unbuttoned his white dress shirt. It hung open upon his dark shoulders and as he started to remove it, he turned and caught sight of his image in the dresser mirror. There, upon his chest, were the marks that tied him to his people. Dark, bluish-green tattoos over each breast and above his navel outlined his link to history and soon he would be called upon to carry out his duty.
A face appeared in the mirror behind him and his brown eyes locked onto those of a beautiful woman. He knew the woman well, too well, and without acting shocked or surprised, he drawled confidently, "So, they sent you."
"You were expecting us?" she inquired in their native tongue of the desert. It had been months since Ali had spoken or heard it and he had to carefully replay her words before the language returned to him.
"Yes. I've sensed it for a while," he answered in the same foreign tongue. "But I never expected you."
Yasmeen smiled deviously at him and moved behind him, looping her arms around his waist.
"The Council figured I could lure you back without argument," she purred.
Ali pushed her hands away and turned to face her. Yasmeen was certainly the beauty of his people, and they had once shared a romantic interest when they were young. Her black hair was long, to her waist, and her dark, cat- like eyes could spot weaknesses in people with just one glance. But he was not pleased to see her. They had gone their separate ways a decade before and though they were linked by heritage and culture, he wanted nothing to do with her now.
"You could lure me nowhere," he growled.
Her mouth curved into an evil grin and she reached up to pull his hair from the ponytail he wore. His hair spilled in waves past his collar and no one who had seen him at the office would believe he was the same man. In this state, with his sinewy muscles showing and his hair in its natural style, he looked every inch the dangerous leader he truly was. There was no hint that this man, by day, was the quiet, reserved computer programmer he pretended to be.
"I used to be able to," she insisted.
"Yes, when we were much younger. We are adults now, Yasmeen, much has changed."
Tracing the flowing, ancient symbols upon his chest with her finger, Yasmeen asked, "Has it changed so much that you will refuse to return with me? I have brought escorts just in case you had second thoughts about returning to the tribe."
Grabbing her hand and throwing it to the side, Ali snapped, "That will not be necessary. I know my duty."
Still smiling, despite his rough refusals, Yasmeen sat on the bed, spreading her long white skirt around her as she did. "We were beginning to wonder if you did, Ali. It has been months since we'd heard from you. When you were with us for the funeral, you seemed changed. The Council has been worried ever since."
"Why? Am I not a Bay? Am I not a member of the tribe? And of course I seemed changed, after all, my father had just died."
She frowned then, the mischievous smile disappearing quickly at the mention of their defeated chief.
"You have a valid argument. Your father was a good man. He died before his time. And that is why you must return now," Yasmeen began to explain.
"I was not expecting this to happen so soon," Ali stated. "I thought I would have more time to get my affairs in order."
"The Council would have granted you more time, but we have found some disturbing evidence that your father's death was not merely the work of the renegades we first suspected, but the work of something.much darker."
Further explanation was not necessary, for Ali knew that many mysteries and hidden dangers lurked in the desert his tribe was sworn to protect. When he arrived back in his village, he would be informed of all the latest evidence that the Council had obtained. Until then, he would refocus his energy on the duties ahead and the revenge he would seek for his father's death.
Chapter 1
He had been changing during the past few months. They were subtle changes- his ebony hair was longer, not nearly what one would call conservative, and upon his face he'd grown a mustache and goatee. And his personality had shifted slightly. He was quieter, more guarded than usual. Most people probably wouldn't notice the changes in him, but Rose did. After all, they'd been good friends for the past two years.
She contemplated those thoughts as they strolled down the sidewalk in the dark. The night air was damp with a light rain, and she watched as Ali pulled his jacket tighter about him. She realized he was not a man who enjoyed cold, damp weather. Even though they were living in sunny southern California, during the winters, there were times when the nights could chill one to the bone. Tonight was one of those nights.
"Cold?" Rose inquired of her escort.
"Of course. I dislike winter," he replied with his deep, accented voice.
"But Ali," she taunted, "we are in southern California. You can't exactly call this winter."
"It is winter enough for me," he stated with a light tone.
Those light tones had come less often during the past few months. Rose wondered why Ali had been changing. It wasn't like there had been any drastic transformations in his life that she was aware of. His life had been exactly the same as it had been for the past two years. He walked to his computer programmer office job with Rose each day, always wearing a conservative suit and sporting his wire-rimmed glasses, then escorted her back home, only talking of mundane topics such as his day and the weather. Rarely did he astound her with his chatter, but he did often show more humor than of late. That humor always had surprised Rose, for Ali seemed to fit that typical computer programmer role. He had a handsomeness to him, but he was quiet and reserved. There was nothing bold or heroic about him. Even though he was tall and sinewy in definition, Rose could not picture Ali outside his neat, conservative role.
"You big sissy," she laughed.
He threw her a half smile, but she could see his heart was not in it.
"Ali, what's wrong?" she asked him, finally certain that something in his life was not right.
"Nothing," he insisted.
"I know you better than that," she chided. "Tell me."
She knew him, Ali acknowledged, but she only knew a portion of what he truly was. For two years now, they'd worked in the same high-rise office building among the throngs of people in southern California, walking to and from work together each day. They lived in the same apartment complex a half-mile from the office and occasionally shared a weekend dinner or movie. They were friends and nothing more. But Ali had sensed a shift in time and knew that the friendship he cherished so much would eventually be no more.
Ali hesitated in answering her and glanced down at her as they walked. She was a woman of medium height and build who moved with an athleticism that she attempted to hide. Her brunette hair was cut in a stylish chin-length bob and framed a finely structured face, full-pouty lips and tanned skin. What stood out most on her pretty face were her ice-blue eyes. Ali had noticed them immediately when he'd first laid eyes upon her for they were not only intriguing, but also familiar.
Ali halted his long stride and turned to her. She stood beside him in her long dark coat, her eyes curious.
"All right," he began. "What if I told you that I might have to be leaving soon?"
Rose's face pulled into a frown.
"Leaving? Where? For how long?"
Ali recognized the concern upon her face and answered, "Back home. I will be.needed there soon." He chose his words carefully so as not to give too much away.
Rose had always sensed this day would come. Ali was so guarded about his past and where he came from that she had known instinctively that something in his homeland had a strong hold over him. Most people probably thought his standoffish ways were just that of an eccentric computer geek. After all, he kept few friends aside from her. But regardless of whether or not he was eccentric or just untrusting, she always felt safe with him. Not safe in the sense that if a gang of thugs were to attack that he would fend them off in action hero fashion, but safe in the sense that she could trust him.
And trust was not a luxury Rose could afford to take lightly. Her past was dark and unhappy and because of that, she too maintained a reserved, cool façade. To most people she was just the simple travel agent who worked on the first floor of the high rise. If anyone knew, however, what she was hiding from, she was positive it would shock them immensely.
"Back home? To Egypt?" she inquired.
He nodded.
"What could possibly make you return there? I thought you enjoyed life here in California."
"I do," he said. "But I have family and.a duty to fulfill."
Rose chuckled and took his arm. They began to walk again and she said, "Duty? Ali, you make it sound so serious."
"It is, Rose," he said, halting them again. This time he covered her hand with his as it rested upon his arm. His hand was warm over her cold one and Rose shivered from the feel. It was strange, for she'd never felt anything from his plutonic touch before.
"It has to be serious to take me away from here.away from you," he added.
Rose felt a strange sensation in the pit of her stomach. His words were both delightful and foreboding at the same time. He was a sweet, tender man, and she cherished his friendship like none other. But the tone to his words caused her to feel that she would never see him again once he returned to his homeland.
"You are, after all," Ali continued, "my best friend."
Overcome with emotion, Rose fell into his arms. For the past five years, she had been hiding, suspect of everyone around her. Then she met Ali by simple accident, bumping into him in the lobby of their office building, and she had felt relief that finally she could trust another person and not have to be suspicious or anxious.
Now, he was leaving her.
She didn't want to cry, but the tears came of their own volition. Ali held her tightly to him and if Rose hadn't been so upset, she might have realized this was the first time they had embraced. After all, their relationship had never held any physical affection aside from her taking his arm or hand on occasion. They had simply been friends, nothing more. Being in his arms now though, somehow felt right and Rose wondered why it had taken her until this point to discover that.
It had taken her so long, Rose reminded herself, because of what her father and ex-fiancé had done to her. They'd controlled her, abused her. She'd been nothing but a pawn to them both. Someone for them to parade in front of others and feed their weak egos, making them feel strong. And because of that, she'd withdrawn from society, hidden from her old life and refused to grow close to anyone again. During the past two years, however, she had grown close to Ali but had been unable to see it until now.
Ali held Rose in his arms as she cried. He knew his leaving would hurt her. Though she pretended to be indifferent most times, he realized she had valued their friendship as much as he. The last thing he wanted to do was leave her, for he knew in his heart that she was harboring something horrible deep inside. She was vulnerable despite her outward appearance and if he could avoid what was to come, he surely would, but history and duty would reclaim him soon.
Something lurked in the shadows and Ali's attention quickly turned away from Rose as he looked around. Soon had arrived, he was certain. Releasing Rose, Ali smiled down at her and said, "Do not cry over my departure yet, Rose. I am still here."
"Until when?" she asked.
"I do not know," he fibbed. He knew. The change in the atmosphere around him, the feel of eyes upon his back told him duty had already arrived.
She wiped at the tears on her face and took in a steadying breath.
"All right. I won't cry now. But I just might later. After all, I don't want to lose my escort home. What will I do?"
"Get a car?" he questioned.
She shook her head. "You know I don't have a license."
"Who in California does not have a license?" Ali challenged, thankful for the change in topics as they resumed their walk.
"I don't like driving," she stated, though she knew perfectly well how to drive. Having a license, however, meant another form of documentation existed that could be used to find her. And she did not want to be found.
"In that case, I suppose we'll just have to walk to the movies tomorrow," Ali said, trying to make plans like he would with Rose for any other Saturday afternoon.
"Walking would be wonderful," she said on a laugh, reclaiming his arm and again striding next to him with her smooth athleticism.
Ali forced a smile and again scanned their surroundings. He had made a date for the next day, but when Rose arrived at his apartment, he would be gone.
**
It was subtle, but Ali's ears picked up the faint sound of his front door opening on its hinges regardless. He was in his bedroom, undressing from his suit and tie, and was surprised that they had arrived so quickly. It was not like his people to rush. Especially at night. They were perfect predators at night and usually lay in wait until the right moment. Whoever they had sent must have had a schedule to keep for such a hurried arrival.
Knowing there was nothing to fear, Ali pretended to be unawares and continued to undress. He threw his jacket, tie and glasses on the bed and unbuttoned his white dress shirt. It hung open upon his dark shoulders and as he started to remove it, he turned and caught sight of his image in the dresser mirror. There, upon his chest, were the marks that tied him to his people. Dark, bluish-green tattoos over each breast and above his navel outlined his link to history and soon he would be called upon to carry out his duty.
A face appeared in the mirror behind him and his brown eyes locked onto those of a beautiful woman. He knew the woman well, too well, and without acting shocked or surprised, he drawled confidently, "So, they sent you."
"You were expecting us?" she inquired in their native tongue of the desert. It had been months since Ali had spoken or heard it and he had to carefully replay her words before the language returned to him.
"Yes. I've sensed it for a while," he answered in the same foreign tongue. "But I never expected you."
Yasmeen smiled deviously at him and moved behind him, looping her arms around his waist.
"The Council figured I could lure you back without argument," she purred.
Ali pushed her hands away and turned to face her. Yasmeen was certainly the beauty of his people, and they had once shared a romantic interest when they were young. Her black hair was long, to her waist, and her dark, cat- like eyes could spot weaknesses in people with just one glance. But he was not pleased to see her. They had gone their separate ways a decade before and though they were linked by heritage and culture, he wanted nothing to do with her now.
"You could lure me nowhere," he growled.
Her mouth curved into an evil grin and she reached up to pull his hair from the ponytail he wore. His hair spilled in waves past his collar and no one who had seen him at the office would believe he was the same man. In this state, with his sinewy muscles showing and his hair in its natural style, he looked every inch the dangerous leader he truly was. There was no hint that this man, by day, was the quiet, reserved computer programmer he pretended to be.
"I used to be able to," she insisted.
"Yes, when we were much younger. We are adults now, Yasmeen, much has changed."
Tracing the flowing, ancient symbols upon his chest with her finger, Yasmeen asked, "Has it changed so much that you will refuse to return with me? I have brought escorts just in case you had second thoughts about returning to the tribe."
Grabbing her hand and throwing it to the side, Ali snapped, "That will not be necessary. I know my duty."
Still smiling, despite his rough refusals, Yasmeen sat on the bed, spreading her long white skirt around her as she did. "We were beginning to wonder if you did, Ali. It has been months since we'd heard from you. When you were with us for the funeral, you seemed changed. The Council has been worried ever since."
"Why? Am I not a Bay? Am I not a member of the tribe? And of course I seemed changed, after all, my father had just died."
She frowned then, the mischievous smile disappearing quickly at the mention of their defeated chief.
"You have a valid argument. Your father was a good man. He died before his time. And that is why you must return now," Yasmeen began to explain.
"I was not expecting this to happen so soon," Ali stated. "I thought I would have more time to get my affairs in order."
"The Council would have granted you more time, but we have found some disturbing evidence that your father's death was not merely the work of the renegades we first suspected, but the work of something.much darker."
Further explanation was not necessary, for Ali knew that many mysteries and hidden dangers lurked in the desert his tribe was sworn to protect. When he arrived back in his village, he would be informed of all the latest evidence that the Council had obtained. Until then, he would refocus his energy on the duties ahead and the revenge he would seek for his father's death.