When he left the palace complex, it was in a garbage truck. Ivan had protested, but Alai told him, "A Caliph who is afraid to be filthied on God's errand is unworthy to rule." He was sure this would be written down and, if he lived, would be included in a book of the wisdom of Caliph Alai. A book he hoped would be long and worth reading, instead of brief and embarrassing.
Dressed as a pious old woman, Alai rode in the back seat of a little old sedan driven by a soldier in civilian clothes and a false beard much longer than his real one. If he lost, if he was killed, then the fact that he dressed this way would be taken as proof that he was never worthy to be Caliph. But if he won, it would be part of the legend of his cleverness.
The old woman accepted a wheelchair to take her into the hospital, pushed by the bearded man who had driven her to Beirut.
On the roof, three men with ordinary, scuffed suitcases were waiting. It was ten minutes to five.
If someone in the hospital had noticed the disappearance of the old woman, or looked for the wheelchair, or wondered about the three men who had arrived separately, each carrying clothing for a family member to wear home, then word might already have gone out to Alai's enemies. If someone came to investigate, and they had to kill him, it would be as good as setting off an alarm by Rajam's own bed.
Three minutes before five, two young doctors, a man and a woman, came onto the roof, ostensibly to smoke. But soon they withdrew out of the sight of the men waiting with their suitcases.
Ivan looked at Alai questioningly. Alai shook his head. "They are here to kiss," he said. "They are afraid of us reporting them, that's all."
Ivan, being careful, got up and walked to where he could see them. He came back and sat down. "More than kissing," he whispered.
"They should not do that if they aren't married," said Alai. "Why do people always think that the only two choices are either to follow the harshest shari'ah or else discard all the laws of God?"
"You have never been in love," said Ivan.
"You think not?" said Alai. "Just because I can't meet any women does not mean I haven't loved."
"With your mind," said Ivan, "but I happen to know that with your body you have been pure."
"Of course I'm pure," said Alai. "I'm not married."
A medical chopper approached. It was exactly five o'clock. When it came close enough, Alai could see that it was from an Israeli hospital.
"Do Israeli doctors send patients to Beirut?" asked Alai.
"Lebanese doctors send patients to Israel," said Ivan.
"So must we expect that our friends will wait until this chopper leaves? Or are these our friends?"
"You have hidden in garbage and dressed as a woman," said Ivan. "What is riding in a Zionist helicopter compared to that?"
The chopper landed. The door opened. Nobody got out.
Alai picked up the suitcase that he knew was his because it was light—filled only with clothes instead of weaponry—and walked boldly to the door.
"Am I the passenger you came for?"
The pilot nodded.
Alai turned to look back toward where the couple had gone to kiss. He saw a flurry of motion. They had seen. They would speak of it.
He turned back to the pilot. "Can this chopper carry all five of us?"
"Easily," said the pilot.
"What about seven?"
The pilot shrugged. "We fly lower, slower. But we often do."
Alai turned to Ivan. "Please invite our young lovers to come with us." Then Alai climbed into the helicopter. In moments, he had the women's clothing off. Underneath, he was wearing a simple western business suit.
In moments, a pair of terrified doctors climbed into the helicopter at gunpoint, in various stages of deshabille. Apparently they had been warned to maintain absolute silence, because when they saw Alai and recognized him, the man went white and the woman began to weep while trying to refasten her clothing.
Alai came and knelt in front of her. "Daughter of God," he said, "I am not concerned about your immodesty. I am concerned that the man you offered your nakedness to is not your husband."
"We will be married," she said.
"Then when that happy day comes," said Alai, "your nakedness will bless your husband, and his nakedness will belong to you. Until then, I have this clothing for you." He handed her the costume he had worn. "I do not ask that you dress like this all the time. But today, when God has seen how your heart intended to sin, perhaps you might cover yourself in humility."
"Can she wait to dress until we're in the air?" asked the pilot.
"Of course," said Alai.
"Everybody strap down," said the pilot.
There weren't enough seats along the sides; the center was meant to hold a gurney. But Alai's driver grinned and insisted on standing. "I've ridden choppers into battle. If I can't keep my feet in a medical chopper, I deserve some bruises."
The chopper tilted as it rose into the air, but soon it found a workable equilibrium, and the woman unstrapped and awkwardly dressed herself. All the men looked away, except her companion, who helped her.
Meanwhile, Alai and the pilot conversed, making no attempt to lower their voices.
"I don't want these two with us for the main enterprise," said Alai. "But I don't want to kill them either. They need time to find their way back to God."
"They can be held in Haifa," said the pilot. "Or I can have them taken on to Malta, if that would suit you better."
"Haifa will do."
It wasn't a long journey, even flying low and slow. By the time they arrived, the doctors were quiet and looked penitent, holding hands and trying not to look at Alai too much. They landed on the roof of a hospital in Haifa, and the pilot turned off the engine and got out to converse for a moment with a man dressed like a doctor. Then he opened the door. "I have to lift off again," he said, "to make room for your transportation. So you need to come out now. Except those two."
The doctors looked at each other, frightened.
"They'll be safe?" asked Alai.
"Better if they don't see your transportation come and go," said the pilot. "It will soon be dawn and there's a little light. But they'll be safe."
Alai touched them both as he left the chopper.
He and his men watched as the medical chopper lifted off. Instantly, another chopper arrived, but this time a long-range battlejet, large enough to carry many soldiers into battle, and armed heavily enough to get them past a lot of obstacles.
The door opened, and Peter Wiggin stepped out.
Alai walked up to him. "Salaam," he said.
"And in you, too, let there be peace," said Peter.
"You look more like Ender than the public photographs show."
"I have them retouched by computer to make me look older and smarter," said Peter.
Alai grinned. "It was nice of you to give us a ride."
"When Felix told me the sad story of that lonely pedestrian in the Empty Quarter, I couldn't pass up the chance to help."
"I thought it would be Bean," said Alai.
"It's a whole bunch of men trained by Bean," said Peter. "But Bean himself is on another errand. In Rwanda, as it happens."
"So that's happening now?" asked Alai.
"Oh, no," said Peter. "We won't make a move until we see how your little adventure turns out."
"Then let's go," said Alai.
Peter invited Alai to take precedence, but then he himself entered before any of Alai's soldiers. Ivan made as if to protest, but Alai gestured for him to relax. Alai had already bet everything on Peter's being cooperative and trustworthy. Now was not the time to worry about assassination or kidnapping. Even though there were twenty Hegemony soldiers already inside, as well as a sizable amount of equipment. Alai recognized the Thai-looking commander as someone he knew from Battle School. Had to be Suriyawong. Alai nodded to him. Suriyawong nodded back.