Page 16 of Under the Arabian Sky

I tried to concentrate on the conversation. “So where exactly are you taking her? The falcon, that is.”

“One of the rocky outcrops. Somewhere with shelter and shade in case she needs to rest her wing. But also a place with rodents and lizards and snakes. She needs to hunt.”

“There are snakes out here?”

“Don’t worry, they’re mostly harmless. Except for the saw-scaled viper. One bite from that snake is enough to kill two people.”

“Seriously?”

“Just stay out of their way and they’ll stay out of yours. Besides, you’ve already got one wound.”

At the mention of it, I touched my fingers to the sticky cut on my temple and winced.

“Don’t touch it,” he warned me. “You’ll get it infected. Let a doctor do the touching.”

“Okay, okay.”

“What are you doing out here anyway? Aside from causing traffic accidents.”

“I’m an arenologist.”

“A what?”

“An arenologist. I study sand, its paths, its patterns, its composition and layers… I’m the life of every dinner party.”

“I imagine you would be.”

“I was kidding.”

“I’m being serious. Sand is fascinating.”

“Thank you… I like to think so. Although you do live in the desert, so I think you’re kind of biased on the subject.”

“You may be right, but nobody can deny that the desert is a spiritual place.”

I raised one eyebrow. “Spiritual? I guess that’s where we differ.”

“How so?”

“When I see the desert, I’m looking at it from a scientific viewpoint.”

He laughed. “So, to you, sand is simply something to study?”

“Yes… and no. There’s actually nothing simple about it. Arenology is one of the few studies that spans several sciences. I’m not only working within the field of geology, but there are many crossovers with chemistry and biology as well. People don’t realise how important sand is to the balance of nature.”

“So tell me, what exactly does an arenologist do out here? Collect samples?”

“I plan to eventually. I only just got here. I was trying to get a feel for the place, work out the lay of the land, take some pictures, make some initial notes and compare them with my predecessor’s notes. Not that I do this sort of thing very often. I’m more of an office-bound scientist.”

“You had a predecessor?”

“A fellow called Roger Cavendish. He’s the reason I’m here. He’s been stationed in Oman for years but…”

“But what?”

“He’s gone. Apparently, he decided to walk into the desert one day and never come back. I’m not sure whether he was running away from himself… or trying to find himself. I guess we’ll never know.”

“I hope wherever he is, he found peace.”

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