Jamila 6

Part Three - Jamila Zohra, Lieutenant, Association of Afghan Women

Ever since the death of Jean-Claude, I've been plagued by wierd dreams. Most aren't genuine nightmares, but riddles or nonsense or stories which defy any and all logic. I sense the universe is trying to tell me something, but I haven't caught on yet.
In this particular one, I'm in blue and white naval-type uniform. I relax, know this is only a dream. I'm in a long line of school-age girls, chatting in a foreign language, but I seem to understand. As I near the front, I see it's for food. Everyone is getting a large round flat bread, an orange and a mug of green tea.
As the mug is handed to me, I ask, "could I have some sugar please?"
A 200+ pound food server looks at me in total disbelief, "always playing the clown, you are."
An obvious MP, though I can't read the insignia, taps me on the shoulder, "better come with me, Lieutenant. CO is gonna be right pi**ed at you again." This latter said in a tone as if she's pleased, boasting.
Taking food in hand, I follow her through a tent city refugee camp.
We arrive at a large tent. MP pleasantly says, "after you."
"Ah the prodigal has returned," an older woman in uniform says, as my eyes take in a dozen similarly clad officers. Addressing the MP, "so where did you find her this time?"
"She appears to have got in the wrong foodline, the schoolgirls one."
"Lt, I despair of you. A whole year back here and you act like first day. Now sit, shut up, and pay attention. You gotta stop missing meetings."
Everyone has similar food to me.
First sign that something is unusual about this dream, I can taste the food. Never happens in a dream, sight and sound only. Second sign, dust bothers me and I sneeze.
CO's face definitely looks familiar. Suddenly, with a shock, I see who. The original Parvana, erstwhile weekend sex partner of the original Lily. She doesn't appear to recognize me or maybe it's just an act.
Drily CO remarks, "you've all been on pins and needles, who I'll choose to command the advance party. It's Jamila."
Everyone is looking at me in catatonic disbelief.
"Ma'am, lemme get this straight. She can't even find her way around camp. Yet you're gonna put her on a plane, send her halfway round the world, in charge of an exploration party."
CO grins, "you have every right to question. She did volunteer. And she got the best mark on the map exercise I set for y'all."
Loud cries of disbelief.
"You see my friends," CO continues, "she may have a wierd sense of humor, I'll grant you that. But I know who she really is. Believe it or not, there sits a time traveller."
Further louder cries of disbelief.
"She's navigated her way round 2 dozen planets, centuries off in the future. A true genius. A mere 40 by 60 kilometer island would be a joke for such a person. Our friend here has earned a six-pack of medals with the Imperial Star Ship Marines."
"Uh ma'am, you sure it's only sugar you been putting in your tea?"
For answer, the CO walks to me, rolls up my right sleeve. The 2 tattoos weren't on Lily, but there they are. The centimeter long cross and the colorful logo of ISSM."
CO grins, "our friend belonged to First Gorgons. Caliber of the present day US Special Forces or British Special Air Service. Specifically, company sgt-major of Company C."
How did she know that? Oh yeah, it's a dream, dreams defy logic.
CO turns to me, "so since you seem to be stranded here, missed your ride back, surely you can help out a bit."
I look at the map. A joke. In 30 seconds I have it memorized.
I stand, "right, six likely sites. Now here they are in order of likely desirability." As I rattle off comparisons, one-by-one, I realize I've lost them, they look dazed. Obviously not used to navigation a la Gorgon.
As I finish, CO says triumphantly, "there you go. Is one of you capable of a quarter of that?"
Sheepish looks all around.
"I'll take that as your consent. I mean, unless someone has something to add, to question, to dispute."
Pin-drop silence.
"Right Jamila, let's go round up your crew, get the show on the road."
As we exit the tent, she smiles, "I suppose you wonder how I spotted you?"
"You might say so."
"Name Norbert mean anything to you?"
I gasp, "so you ah lost your argument with the mil bureaucracy?"
"True, they simply had enough of me, stuffed me into the random generator."
"No, I woulda spotted something at the time, back in Canada I mean."
"And so you would. But the suicide of Parvana was after she left Canada. So you saw the original Parvana, not me."
"Ah and I suppose these officers think you're nuts?"
"I ah have a reputation for poetic licence."
"So how was it I came to join you people?"
"You don't remember volunteering?"
"No."
"Really must watch what drugs you take."
"I don't take anything, legal or illegal. I'd prefer the truth."
"My friend Jamila, if I told you that, it'd blow you away. Think a quantum leap up from the stories you carry around. Better off not knowing."
"Isn't that exactly what the Emporer said before the invasion of Zeltar Five?"
She laughs, "I like this gig. Beats Hades outa lying there playing computer games. Hang around a bit, you'll feel the same."
"Do I have a choice?"
"If you're gonna get finicky about it, no you don't. Makes it easier, god gods fate etc."
"Heard that line before, the doctors."
"Admit it, you were bored playing Lily."
"I admit no such thing."
"Oh but it's true, whether you admit it or not. Here we are."
A massive 5'8" sgt shakes her head sadly. Before the CO can even speak, sgt starts lambasting her, "you brought us a white person? A 4'11" one? Have you lost your mind? Now take her back to class and get us another?"
CO grins, "Lt, please explain your site selection to the sgt."
Taking out the map, I give the same spiel I gave at the meeting.
Sgt wraps her arm round me, "hey look, maybe I was a bit outa line with those comments. You do know what you're doing, better than the resta them no-minds. So, friends?"
"Sure."
"Call me Shauzia, and you are Jamila?"
"Yeah."
CO smiles, "I'll leave you to it," and leaves.
Shauzia offers me a cigarette. I feel it wisest to take, just puff lightly.
Once we're lit, she grins, "so, rumor is true? Got the job cuz you pi**ed off the CO more than anyone else?"
"So I'm told."
"Awesome," she hugs me, "my kinda Lt. We're gonna have fun. Get away from the redtape, the bullsh** for 2 months of rattling round in jeeps."
"Sounds like fun to me Shauzia."
"Come on, let's meet the girls."

"Ok sarge," one grins, "joke is over. Take the Lt bars offa her, get her back into class before the teacher marks her truant."
Shauzia wraps an arm round me, "ladies, I give you the one and only. The unique. The famous. The infamous. This little person can pi** off our illustrious CO more in one month than anyone else can in a whole year."
"You mean, that's Jamila?"
"In the flesh."
"Hey sorry Jamila, didn't mean no offence. This here is a right strange unit. That goofy Parvana was always a moody one. But now she's right off the deep end. Sees herself as a latter-day Joan of Arc."
Everyone laughs.
"So Jamila, CO tell you any of her space alien stories?"
I keep a straight face, "next time you're close enough, take a good look at her eyes."
Pindrop silence.
I put my finger over my lip, "word to the wise. Ask her no questions, you get no lies."
"Rumor has it she did too much LSD on her last leave."
I reply, "rumor is usually right, 9/10 of the time."
"Ah so that's it. Yeah she's right strange. Likes giving all niggah jive talk now. So y'all volunteered for this they say?"
"Why not?" I grin, "doesn't a jeep ride beat staring at bushel baskets of silverfish-eaten paper?"
All roar with laughter.
Shauzia says, "now this here is Nilofar, jeep driver and mechanic par excellence. In fact better than those morons in the motor pool. Arezou, driver, ok as mechanic, but not in Nilo's league. We're gonna need their skills, jeeps are thirty years old. And this is Bobogal, one fabulous cook, had to kill to spring her loose from the kitchen for this gig."
"You mean, kill the budget? Trade something?"
Shauzia grins, "it's like this. The MP's had some dope they seized. Owed me a favor. Used some of it to bribe the mess sgt with."
"I see and you have the rest?"
"Of course, think we'd go without?"
"I've ah never tried it myself."
"Get used to it Jamila. If you don't have a reefer or two every day, you go right snaky."
"Yeah, just hide it well so the cargo handlers don't steal it."
"No risk of that, we load ourselves."
"When?"
"Now, plane lifts off tonight. Long flight, Southern Ocean, land in the morning."