In Amenas Infinity
"Tassadit works at the gas plant in In Amenas—one of few women engineers in the Sahara. When British consultant Richard arrives on assignment, she shows him that energy flows in more ways than pipelines carry. 'El qowwa mn el dakhel' (القوّة من الداخل) - Power comes from within."
In Amenas pumped energy to Europe. Tassadit made sure it flowed.
"Female engineer?" Richard couldn't hide surprise.
"El mra tsna' kima el rajel." Women build like men. "Tethaddra ktar."
Think more.
Her domain was pressure systems—gas that wanted to explode, pipes that wanted to fail.
"Your safety record is remarkable."
"El qowwa mn el dakhel."
"Inner power?"
"El system y'aref wach yhtaj."
She was substantial—hard hat over headscarf, body that commanded respect.
"How long in the field?"
"Mn el jamia."
"Since university? In this environment?"
"El sahra kweyysa."
Days of assessment taught him. Richard saw systems respond to her—gauges stabilizing, pressures balancing.
"You have a touch."
"El system yetkellem."
"Systems speak?"
"Koulech yetkellem."
"What does the gas tell you?"
"Wach ybghi ykoun."
Night brought different energies—desert stars, generator hum, two people alone.
"El khdma difficult?"
"El khdma el wahda difficult." Work isn't hard. Loneliness is.
"You're alone here?"
"Kount."
Was.
"Tassadit..."
"El system qalli."
"The system told you?"
"Yqoul el pressure stable."
Pressure is stable.
She kissed him in control room after-hours.
"Hada..."
"El qowwa."
She undressed maintaining authority, her curves engineering.
"Mashallah," he breathed.
"El system," she said. "Ana system."
He operated her like learning controls—finding valves, adjusting pressure.
"Richard," she moaned.
"Hna." He found her flow. "El gaz."
She pressurized beneath him, pleasure regulated.
"Dkhol," she gasped. "El pipeline."
He pumped into her, and understood what energy meant.
"El qowwa mn el dakhel," she cried.
"Fina."
Their rhythm was production—steady, powerful, sustaining.
"Qrib," she warned.
"M'aya." He drove into power. "El qowwa mn el dakhel."
They produced together, pleasure energetic. Richard held her through the regulation.
"El assignment?" she asked.
"Extended."
"Shhal?"
"Indefinitely."
His reports praised what numbers missed—human systems, local knowledge, women engineers.
"El approach?" companies asked.
"El qowwa mn el dakhel."
Now he works beside her, learning what consultants miss.
"El consultant w el mohendisa," they say.
"El qowwa jab'tna," Tassadit smiles.
"El qowwa tkhallina," Richard adds.
Some power generates itself.