Rakkim stepped around her, working his way through the crowd.

"Are you the husband?" asked an older man in a flared corduroy jacket. He smelled of the orange blossom incense burned at the Muhammad Ali mosque, one of the more prestigious modern mosques. "You're Sarah's husband, aren't you?" He stuck out his hand. "Dr. Ron Wallis, chairman of the history department."

Rakkim wanted to wipe his hand. "Hi, Ron, how are you?"

Wallis's expression revealed his desire to correct Rakkim, suggest Rakkim use his academic title, but he decided against it. "I'm fine, Mr…?"

"Epps. Rakkim Epps. I wish I had more time to talk, but-"

"Epps? Not short for Epstein, I hope." Wallis seemed pleased with himself. "Just kidding. Not that there would be a problem. I have nothing against Hebrews."

"I'm relieved."

"I take a certain pride in judging people on their own merits, regardless of-"

"Ron, I wish I had more time to talk with you, but I really need to speak with Sarah."

"I understand completely." Wallis pinched a deeper dimple into his green bow tie. "These academic affairs can be a little daunting to the…uninitiated."

"Daunted is exactly how I feel, Ron."

"Buck up," said Wallis. "No one here is any better than you, remember that. We just have certain intellectual credentials…areas of expertise." He gave a curt bow. "Remind Sarah my door is always open."

Rakkim started toward Sarah.

Sarah excused herself from the group of young women, put her hand on his arm. "Did Dr. Wallis tell you his door was always open?"

"Always open to you," said Rakkim. "I don't have the intellectual credentials."

"Poor baby," said Sarah, leading him to the group. "Ladies, this is my husband, Rakkim. Rakkim, this is Emily, sociology, Carmella, Chinese history, and Satrice, American history."

Rakkim bowed.

The young women returned the bow, glanced over at Sarah as though for approval. Though they were only ten years or so younger than Sarah, they deferred to her as though she were the queen of the Nile.

"If you'll excuse me, ladies," said Sarah, "I want to pay my respects to Professor Hoffman." She trailed a hand across Rakkim's arm as she left.

"One-note Hoffman?" said Satrice.

"Be nice," said Emily.

Rakkim and the three women exchanged nods, looked around, saw both chaperones glaring at them from their elevated chairs. "I should probably go-"

"Don't mind those two vultures," said Satrice, a short, stocky woman drinking Jihad Cola straight from the bottle.

"Satrice," warned Emily.

"Chill out," said Satrice.

"Are you cold?" asked Rakkim. "I could get you a wrap."

Satrice had a beautiful laugh, warm and without a hint of mockery. "It's old time slang. 'Chill out'…it means relax."

"Satrice did her dissertation on twentieth-century American colloquialisms," said Carmella.

"True dat," said Satrice.

Carmella glanced at the chaperones, lowered her eyes. "I…I should mingle."

They watched her leave. "Finger-lickin' good," said Satrice.

Rakkim looked at her.

"It means she's chicken," said Satrice. "Ah…easily scared."

"It's so amazing to meet your wife," Emily said to Rakkim. "I was in high school when How the West Was Really Won first came out. It changed my life. I immediately knew I wanted to be a historian."

"They removed it from my school library," said Satrice, "flagged it as a corrupter of morals." Her eyes sparkled. "We passed around our copy from girl to girl until it almost fell apart. We memorized whole chapters."

"Is it a little…intimidating to be married to someone so brave?" asked Emily.

"Sometimes," said Rakkim. "Sarah likes making trouble. It's one of the reasons I love her."

The two young women blushed. Satrice covered her reaction by taking a swig of cola, a smear of her bright red lipstick rimming the neck of the bottle.

How the West Was Really Won was the mainstream edition of Sarah's doctoral thesis, which theorized that while there were many factors in the shift of the USA from a secular nation to a moderate Muslim republic, the pivotal events took place in popular culture. Traditionalists were outraged, arguing that the book was sacrilegious for minimizing the role of prophecy and violent jihad. Without the intercession of her uncle, Redbeard, the book would have been burned and Sarah forbidden to ever publish again. As it was, the book became a best-seller that no one read in public.

"'Though the jihadi attacks had little direct, long-term impact on the United States, the true importance of the 9/11 martyrdom was that it induced the former regime to overextend itself in fruitless military engagements around the world,'" said Satrice, reciting the prologue to Sarah's book from memory. "'The political and economic consequences of this U.S. response were profound and long-lasting. After their failed attempt to create democracy in the Islamic homeworld, the Crusaders fled, grown weary of war, eager to return to their idle pursuits. This great retreat left the West no safer than before, but instead drained it of capital, manpower and, most important, will.

"'When the U.S. troops trickled home from their wars of conquest, the former regime was confronted by a prolonged economic downturn, and a jobless recovery that only exacerbated the gap between rich and poor,'" continued Emily, as Satrice mouthed the words along with her. "'Even the election in 2008 of a multiracial president named after the grandson of the Prophet (Peace Be Upon Him) could not prevent a cruel, godless capitalism from sending jobs overseas, where labor costs were cheaper, leaving millions at home unemployed, and embittered. Unlike in education in Muslim nations, God was not allowed to be spoken of in American schools, and the children and adults could draw no moral sustenance from a permissive culture that celebrated immorality and materialism.'"

People nearby stopped to listen, but Satrice and Emily paid them no mind.

"'After the end of martial law, a new generation of pragmatic, modern American Muslim leaders stressed the importance of transforming the popular culture, as a means of affecting the larger population,'" said Satrice. "'Thanks to the generous funding of the Kingdom, a twenty-four-hour Islamic television network offered programming geared to a young, non-Muslim American audience. This network featured innovative graphics, videos, and interviews with entertainers and sports stars who had converted to the true faith."

"'The most important of these conversions was the public embrace of Islam by Jill Stanton at the Academy Awards, February seventh, 2013,'" continued Emily, the pulse at the base of her throat visible. "'Jill Stanton gave her declaration of faith as she received the Academy Award for Best Actress. Her declaration coincided with her announcement of marriage to Mukumbe Otan, a devout Muslim, and center for the world champion Los Angeles Lakers. Within days, Shania X, the most popular country music recording star in the world, made her declaration of faith at the Grand Ole Opry. A week later, three major movie stars declared their submission to the faith, followed by the entire ensemble cast of a top-rated television series. These high-profile conversions created a cascade effect, and within months, thousands, then tens of thousands, then hundreds of thousands of young people were crowding the mosques and studying the holy Quran."

"'The public declarations of Jill Stanton and Shania X were the tipping point for the spiritual renewal that eventually led to the creation of the Islamic States of America,'" the young women said, reciting the words together. "'The marriage of Jill Stanton and Mukumbe Otan, white and black, spoke to the transforming power of Islam over racism, the deepest wound of the West, which all their churches and technology could not stanch. Millions looked at them and wondered, if Islam could soothe the ache of racism, could it not feed the restless hunger of America's dispossessed? The answer was yes. Despite the nobility of our cause, violent jihad alone could never defeat the West. It was the "flowering rose" at the heart of Islam that gave us victory.'"