“To where?” Krista asked.
“Someplace that I hope they won’t even consider looking for us,” Zach said, smiling. “Oman.”
“Oman!” Krista exclaimed. “Where the hell is that?”
“It’s just beneath Saudi Arabia,” Zach replied.
“That sounds horrible,” Krista said.
“I have no idea, but I do know that it’s not a place that many western tourists visit, which will make it easier for us,” Zach said. “This was a magical interlude; Oman will probably be a lot different. It’s mostly a desert and mountains.”
They all made the best of their last day and night, though they were distracted. Mahana and Raina seemed distraught at their leaving, telling them that they had become like family. Susan was visibly upset as they finally made their way in the morning, thanking the policeman at the airport while Zach handed him another fat envelope of money before they boarded the Gulfstream 650ER that was waiting for them. Once again, a simple request accompanied by a bag full of money smoothed their way and almost 24 hours later they were landing at Muscat International Airport in Muscat, the capital of Oman. Even though it was early in the morning, it was already a sweltering 92o.
After clearing Customs and Immigration, they took a taxi to the Shangri-la Al Husn Resort & Spa which had been recommended as the best that Muscat had to offer, an adults-only resort with its own 100m private beach. Susan gasped when she saw the resort as they approached after a 45-minute drive, surrounded by the pristine waters of the Gulf of Oman in the Bay of Barr Al Jissah against a dramatic mountainous backdrop.
“We’ll only be here for a day or two, so I figured that we might as well splurge,” Zach explained after they were shown to their two-bedroom suite on the top floor.
There was a two-page notice on the wall of the room pointing out all of the things that were not allowed in Oman, an Islamic sultanate, including nudity of any sort, and the usual drugs prohibition, which the notice emphasized the mandatory death penalty for abusing. It also advised that women should dress modestly in public, something which alarmed Susan and Krista, as they had nothing that could even remotely be considered as modest.
After breakfasting in their room, they decided to go into Muscat to shop in the market for appropriate clothing and to see what they could learn. Stepping out of their taxi in the middle of a crowded, noisy, and smelly market, they were immediately immersed into a medieval open-air market where the vendors were noisily hawking their wares. Almost immediately they were surrounded by a crowd of people who were glaring at them, Krista and Susan wearing miniskirts and blouses that immediately plastered to their bodies as they began to sweat in the incredible heat, their ruby nipples clearly visible and pressing against the material of their blouses.
Just as they were beginning to fear for their safety, a deeply tanned man with short grey hair and a woman with short blonde hair approached, shouting at the crowd and hustling them into a nearby shop.
“You must be crazy to come to this market dressed like that,” the man said in a thick German accent. “I am Rolf and this is Gretchen.”
“We came to buy some proper clothes,” Susan explained, shaken. “We have nothing appropriate.”
In just a few minutes, Susan and Krista were suffocating in the shapeless black burnooses that Gretchen handed them, swelteringly hot, sweat running down their faces.
“Come, there is a cafe nearby that is air conditioned,” Rolf said.
Not knowing what else to do, they went with them, sighing with relief at the difference even a poorly running air conditioner provided as Gretchen ordered mint tea for all of them.
“It helps keep you cool,” Gretchen explained.
“I could use a beer,” Zach grumbled.
“Not outside of your hotel or resort,” Rolf said, shaking his head. “You’ve just time-traveled back in time several hundred years. This is an extremely intolerant society by western standards. Extremely Islamic, which means that anything that might bring a person pleasure is not allowed. Islam is all about suffering.”
“What do you do here?” Krista asked.
“I arrange tours for those people hardy enough to enjoy them, those who have ticked off all of their other boxes,” Rolf replied. “We’ve been here for five years.”
“How do you tolerate it?” Krista asked Gretchen.
“You get used to it,” Gretchen replied, shrugging. “When you learn the ways of this place, you can find and take your pleasures, it is just necessary to be very careful.”
“But what are you doing here?” Rolf asked. “You obviously know nothing about Oman.”
“We’re trying to avoid an angry husband,” Zach replied, their standard story. “A very dangerous angry husband.”
“Where are you staying?” Gretchen asked, then laughed when they told her. “That’s the most exclusive resort in Oman. I’d think that it would be one of the first places anyone would look. If you can afford to stay there, then your husband must have money and that means that he can find you rather easily,” she said, looking from Krista to Susan, not knowing which one had the problem.
“Nobody knows that we came here,” Zach explained. “It was a random choice at the last minute. I had hoped to find some way to disappear.”
“Are you worried for your physical safety?” Rolf asked.
“Yes,” Zach replied. “Several people have already been killed. It’s why we are so desperate.”
“How long do you need to stay hidden?” Rolf asked.
“A month or two,” Zach replied. “After that we should be able to resolve things. It’s very complicated.”
“Well, Oman is a great place to get lost, but there’s no way to do it comfortably,” Rolf said.
“We can deal with some discomfort,” Susan said.
“Discomfort Oman style would be like hell to you,” Gretchen said with a laugh.
“There would be no air conditioning or western amenities like you are used to,” Rolf explained. “You might have picked a better place.”
“We can’t afford to go anywhere where it would be easy to be found,” Zach explained. “We’re just going to have to deal with it.”
“There is a way, but it would be extremely difficult if not impossible for you,” Rolf said, exchanging looks with Gretchen.
“What would that be?” Krista asked.