Whom He May Devour

Lydia watched Ahad play the guitar. He leaned against a boulder, eyes shut, his face positioned to catch the last warm rays of the setting sun. His long, slender fingers caressed the strings, producing a slow, haunting melody. The music almost made his company tolerable.

She was only there because Grandmother had asked her to study this stranger, to get close, to discover what the crew of his starship was up to. Ahad seemed to be so at peace. Despite his unusual clothes and exotic facial features, he wasn’t so different from the local boys. Was he really to blame for his people’s sins? If one never knew the Lord’s law, was it a sin for them to break it? Then again, the star travelers had learned about the True Path in the weeks since they arrived, and they hadn’t changed their ways.

She knew that it was the Devil, seeking yet another way to sow doubt in her heart.

Lydia stared at the implant on Ahad’s left temple, only partially covered by his dark hair. The Devil would claim him in the afterlife for that alone. Against her better judgment, she was fascinated by it. When she shifted for a better look, Ahad opened his eyes at the sound of her moving.  He smiled at her.

“That tune is very old, from back when everyone lived on the same planet,” said Ahad. “Did you like it?”

Was he intentionally reminding her of her own people’s past sins, of the time when they, too, used technology and crossed the stars to come to this world? She let the comment slide. “I liked it very much. It’s impressive, how many melodies you have memorized.”

Ahad chuckled. “Memorized? That would be a lot of work.” He pointed at his temple. “I can access the note sheets for every piece of music ever written, through the Link.”

This time Lydia frowned, and cast her eyes downward. In a small way, she wanted to believe that Ahad’s only sin was that of ignorance. But she knew that it was the Devil, seeking yet another way to sow doubt in her heart.

“I’m sorry,” Ahad said when he saw her expression. “I know the Link is a sensitive subject for your people. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Let me make it up to you? I’ll play you a tune that my father taught me. I remember that one without the Link, honest.”

Father. Lydia looked at the sun, which was halfway behind the mountains by then.

“I’m sorry,” she called out as she scrambled to her feet. “I’m very late. Tomorrow?”

She dashed toward the village.

“Tomorrow, then,” Ahad called after her.

ydia burst into the house, panting from the mile-long run, her heart pounding and trying to jump out of her chest. The rest of the family was already there, her parents and brother seated around the table, all of