Free The Mirage: A Novel by Matt Ruff

them no mercy. Likewise, with the men who sent them on their way. But this”—he waved a hand at the pictures—“this slaughter of innocents, it’s beyond me. Not even in my darkest dreams am I tempted to such savagery. I look at this woman, here, and all I can think of is Fadwa in her last moments. God willing she didn’t suffer long, but to imagine even an instant of her pain and fear, and then to imagine choosing to inflict that same pain and fear on some other blameless woman . . . No. No, that is beyond me. And these children, little children who can have done nothing, nothing to deserve this . . . I don’t understand it. Can you explain it to me, Dr. Costello?
    “Is this Christianity? I’m no expert on your New Testament, but I have read parts of it. The prophet Jesus, peace be unto him, said that there were two great commandments: to love God with all your heart and soul, and to love your neighbor as yourself. True words, Dr. Costello, words that any Muslim would be bound to agree with, for we believe the same thing. But even a very poor Muslim such as I am would have a hard time seeing how you get from those words, to this. Can you explain it to me? Think of your Jessica, in her last moments. If she were here now, and knew what sort of acts you’d been contemplating, what would she say?”
    Costello’s lips moved in a soft murmur.
    “What was that, Dr. Costello? I didn’t quite hear you.”
    “I said, I’m sorry.”
    “I would like to believe that,” Mustafa said. “It would help me to believe that, if you’d talk to me about your dealings with the Hoffmans: What you were planning. Who else was involved. Anything you can tell me that might prevent the deaths of more innocents.”
    But Costello shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”
    “To the contrary, Dr. Costello, it matters very much. Certainly it matters to those who may die. It matters to their families. It matters to me. And as a human being and a child of God, it should matter to you. I won’t lie to you: Even if you choose to cooperate fully, you’re facing a long stretch in prison. For security reasons you’ll be kept in solitary confinement, which means years in a small room with only your own conscience for company. You may not think it now, but over time, over long time, guilt and regret can eat you alive. And if that doesn’t happen? You still have to answer to God on Judgment Day. So I would urge you, for your own sake, to care. Care now , while you can still do some good.”
    Not a bad speech, Mustafa thought, but even before he finished, he could tell that it was wasted. Whatever brief connection he’d established with Costello had already evaporated. The doctor had mentally withdrawn, or maybe sidestepped was a better word—when he spoke again, it was from a different, and very strange, place.
    “It doesn’t matter,” Costello said, “because none of this is real.”
    “What’s not real, Dr. Costello?”
    “This world.”
    “The world isn’t real?”
    “ This world.” Costello tried to spread his arms in an all-encompassing gesture, but, restrained by the cuffs, had to settle for flapping his hands. “This country.”
    “I’m not following you, Dr. Costello.”
    “The ‘United Arab States.’ It’s not real.”
    “You’re saying you don’t recognize the authority of the UAS government?”
    “No, I’m saying it doesn’t exist. It’s a mirage. There is no Arab superpower, no union of Arab states. In the real world, you’re just a bunch of backward third-world countries that no one would even care about except for oil . . .”
    “Dr. Costello, what are you—”
    “It’s a mirage ! All of it: This country. This world. Everything you think you know, about what is, is just an illusion. A dream.” He paused, stymied momentarily by Mustafa’s incredulous expression, but then pushed on. “America. America is the true superpower.”
    “America,” Mustafa said. “Really.”
    “I don’t expect