Chapter 75
We don't receive wisdom;
We must discover it for ourselves
After a journey that no one
Can take for us or spare us.
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—Marcel Proust
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MIKHAIL
The second night in the bādiyat ash-shām is even worse than the first. I circle uselessly, unable to fly ahead. It's foolish to fly in circles, but I cannot bear to feel my blisters pop and burn upon the desert sand.
On the third morning, the shuttle passes overhead again, but it never takes a second look at the primitive tent-people walking towards their base. Even as I wonder if the Halifians are toying with us, I have to admire the old desert adder, for Marwan brings us west far more surely than a compass.
It's far too hot to sleep during the day. I cannot stand the feeling of other people bumping up against me. It's got not
