Download the Book - Islam and Science Fiction

with his hands as he described a new spatial relativity theory to
Chuck. He sipped his water while Liam joked about his beliefs
suddenly being very convenient, leaving more alcohol for the rest of
us. I was embarrassed by the talk but Jabril nodded, smiling, goodnatured
about it.
It was rare for the four of us to gather in the same room. I
hung at the periphery of the cabin, light and relaxed, one hand curled
about the straw to my drinking bulb, the other lightly resting on a wall
grip. I studied each of my shipmates as they talked over the hardedged
music, to which even I swayed my head in gentle half-time. All
the guys had grown light beards, though when I'd first met them they'd
been clean shaven. Chuck was by far the youngest of us, darkly
attractive in that football-hero way some find so compelling. Liam
was like an older, ruddy, masculine version of me: red-headed and
prone to blushes. Only, he had far fewer freckles than I did and
considerably more hair on him. Considerably more hair. Half the
nutrients in our waste-reclamation compost were probably derived
from Liam's shed arm-hairs, pulled from the air filtration system.
My gaze lingered on Jabril. The others had taken to calling
him Gabe, short for the anglicized version of his name. I didn't think
it suited him.
His skin had a beautiful, translucent quality. His features
were fine, but not weak. For the first time in my life I found myself
thinking of a man's looks as aristocratic. Of all of us, he looked the
healthiest after more than three months in space, and of the men he
was the only one I found more attractive with his short beard than
without.
He happened to look up, meet my gaze over the top of
Chuck's head. I froze, mortified to be caught staring, especially when
he'd made it clear he didn't much like me or want to be my friend.
He'd always been professional and exceedingly polite. But cool.
Always cool. I was surprised when he smiled at me.
I turned to fiddle with the volume control of the console,
forgetting to smile back. I skipped a couple songs on Chuck's
random-seeming playlist just to have something to do while the heat
faded from my face and neck. When I turned again to face the others,
Jabril was gone.
Liam held up the bottle, pump affixed to the slender glass
neck looking incongruous, ungainly. I pushed from the wall with my
toes and eased up beside him, trying to regain my good mood as he
inserted the pump spout into my drinking bulb.
"Did you chase Jabril away?" I asked, attempting humor. Of the
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