They bought kofta off a grill and ate it hot with their fingers. They came to a place of fortune tellers then. An ancient robotnik sat begging in a corner. His bowl was filled with bits of machinery. He looked up at Saleh, then looked away.

“You know that you don’t have to stay with us,” Elias said.

Saleh felt ashamed, because Elias was his friend.

“The caravan life isn’t for everyone,” Elias said. “It isn’t for most people. You don’t have to stay with us till Bahrain. Nothing is keeping you with us—nothing.”

Elias looked down when he said it. He didn’t meet Saleh’s eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Elias,” Saleh said. “I don’t know what I want.”

“You are still grieving.”

Saleh took the other boy’s hand in his.

“All I know is where I don’t belong,” he said miserably. “And there is nowhere that I do belong.”

“I was born into the caravan,” Elias said. “But I remain by choice. It is my home. My life. It’s family.”

Saleh nodded. It was decided then between them, silently, he realised.

He would not return to the caravan with Elias.

“I will miss you,” Saleh said.

“I will miss you too,” Elias said.

As they stood in an embrace a woman watched them from a doorway. Her face was hidden in a cowl. Above her head was a neon sign that said, simply, Fortune Teller.

“You wish to see your future?” the fortune teller said. Saleh and Elias drew apart. Saleh stared at the woman suspiciously.

“I know my future,” Elias said.

“No one knows their future,” the fortune teller said.

“So then what do you practice?” Elias said. “No offence.”

“None taken, Elias,” the woman said.

Saleh smiled. He knew those tricks, his aunt read fortunes too.

“You heard us speaking,” he said.

“I never said I didn’t. Come. The future is uncertain but by looking at the past one can discern the eddies and currents of probabilities. All I ask for payment is that which you are willing to freely give.”

“And what is that?” Elias said.

A jackal watched them from the shadows. Saleh saw its bright eyes. The jackal grinned at him and shook its head as though in warning. The fortune teller ignored Elias’s question. She went inside. Saleh hesitated, but he was curious, and what harm could it do? He went in after her and Elias followed.

The room was dark, the ceiling low. Incense burned, too sweetly. The room was oddly furnished. Saleh saw rough wooden tables, long and heaped with parts. He saw a robot’s head, a gene sequencer, a cracked roc’s egg, an artificial womb and incubator, screwdrivers and blowtorches and a small black monolith that made his head hurt when he stared at it. The room looked like a workshop.