colony of theirs several of your centuries back.
They do hold grudges, the Haxadissi.”
“Well, then, I’m guessing if they have any spiritual needs that want to be tended, I’ll be the one doing the job.” Flynn sighed. “Before that, though, I’m thinking someone else might need some help.”
“You’ll give her time before you talk to her?”
“A bit, yes. Let her finish her devotions first.”
“Good.” The Unvorite smiled. “I will leave you to that, then, and suggest to those who want to welcome her to the station that they should wait until they hear from you?”
“That would be a great favor, Meresin, thank you.” The human shook his Unvorite counterpart’s hand. “I will let you know how things go.”
III
Claire had completed her rosary, then had remained sitting there in her small room. She thought of many things—too many—when she really wished to be thinking of nothing at all. The door chime, though an interruption, came as a blessing.
“Enter, please.” She didn’t bother to turn and face the door, since she could imagine only one visitor.
Flynn moved into the dimly lit room, glancing through a far doorway into her small bedchamber. “They’ll be getting your things up to you fair soon, I’m thinking.”
“Thank you.” Claire did force herself to smile slightly, then looked over at him. “I should apologize for being so rude earlier, but I haven’t the energy that the attendant discussion will require.”
“I know that, Father Yamashita, and I’d not be here save for something urgent having come up.” The older priest hesitated for a moment. “Two things for you to consider, though, for when we have that discussion. I know well the way the Church has portrayed Mephists, and I might even be admitting that not trafficking with them is a serious caution for the spiritually vulnerable. That being said, though, Meresin has never been anything but polite and respectful in his dealings with me and my people.”
She brought her head up, but he raised a hand to forestall her comment. “Now, I’m thinking you likely went and talked to Father Olejniczak and his wife before you came out here, just to see what you were getting into, and Marguerite, she gave you an earful about Meresin. They used to get into frightful rows on things theological. Marguerite, while a wonderful woman, gave in to her prejudices and hated Meresin because the Church told her he was the enemy; and the fact that they had what she saw as fights justified it all to her.
“What she missed, though, was that Meresin only engaged her because defending her faith made her happy. It made her feel more important. Now, Mephisti might well be a hedonistic faith, but it operates by the Golden Rule, same as we do.”
Claire frowned. “‘As long as it harms no one, do what thou will,’ is not the Golden Rule.”
“Semantics, Father, and you know it.” Flynn folded his arms across his chest. “And you know as well as I do that hating someone because of some benign trait is foolish.”
“It’s not prejudice, Father. Meresin’s an intelligent creature, he is capable of seeing the error of his beliefs and choosing to accept the truth. By tolerating his beliefs, by chiding me for opposing them, you are allowing him to remain in a state that imperils his soul.”
Flynn smiled broadly. “Oh, very good, very good indeed. Having you here will be very welcome. I look forward to many hours of discussions with you, and that brings me to my second point. You and I, we will be each other’s Confessors. I have to be telling you, despite what you might think of my friendship with Meresin, I do take ministering to the spiritual needs of my flock very seriously. I don’t see being your Confessor, though, as a license to pry into your life.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. The thing of it is this, though, lass. This place is called Purgatory Station because it’s so far away, and those who are sent here, often it’s because of sins they’ve committed, real or imagined. Now, you’re too young to have done anything serious, you’re here for your own reasons. But this isn’t just a place of exile, it’s also a frontier, and a place of new beginnings. I’m not knowing why you chose to come here, but if I can help you get started on that beginning, well, it would be my pleasure.”
She blinked her eyes, surprised at first, then feeling naked and exposed. From the moment she’d made her decision, her family, her lover, everyone had asked her why she had chosen to go so far away. For a heartbeat she wondered if Flynn were simply employing reverse psychology to get her to tell him why she came, but the open, honest expression on his face hid no deception. Her reasons for being there didn’t matter to him, just seeing to her well-being did.
“Again, thank you.” She composed herself, then frowned. “There is another reason you’re here, though, yes?”
“Yes, part of beginnings. I know it’s only been a couple of hours, but you’re needed. Something I can’t do. Please, follow me.”
IV
Claire didn’t interrupt Flynn’s silence as they moved through the station. Clearly the situation was stressful, and she was pleased he was not the sort to babble idly. She noticed his movements were precise, with not a step or motion wasted, which struck her as something of a contrast with the open affability that Marguerite had ascribed to him.
Flynn led her to a brightly lit waiting room in one of the station’s medical facilities. The Mephist priest was already there, as well as the Haxadissi ambassador’s consort and the diminutive aide. In addition to them were two new individuals, the first of whom immediately oriented on her, smiled, and extended a hand.
“Komban-wa, Father Yamashita.” The slender, blond man had a chin slightly weaker than his grip, and blue, watery eyes that appeared a bit close-set. “H. Percival Doncaster at your service. I am the Terran Diplomatic liaison here at the station.” He hesitated, then bowed his head and started to speak again in Japanese.
“Please, Mr. Doncaster, English. I grew up in San Francisco. My Japanese is not very good.” She caught Flynn and the Unvorite sharing a glance, since Doncaster had gone to great pains to pronounce every syllable of her name—an error they had avoided. “How may I be of service?”
“Well, Soluvinum Leyrolis here has requested your attendance at the birth of his child.
His partner, the ambassador, has gone into labor rather prematurely.” Doncaster nodded reassuringly at the two Haxadissi. “Your participation would be seen as most auspicious, you being a priest, of course.”
“But I know nothing of medicine, and even less of xeno-biology.”
“It’s not really a matter of medicine, you see, but of…” He stopped, his face a perplexed mask. “They want you because of who you are.”
The aide glided forward as the male Haxadis hissed sibilantly. “Priestess, my master wishes me to tell you that had they known of your glorious bloodline, you would have been afforded better treatment.”
Claire frowned. “My bloodline?”
A quiet, clear voice cut Doncaster’s explanation off before he’d finished inhaling to begin it. “You are of Imperial Japanese blood, Father, therefore are descended from Amaterasu-O-Mi-Kami, the goddess of the sun.”
The small Qian woman moved around Doncaster, but did not slip a hand from the sleeves of her robe. The robe reflected the lavender hue of her skin. Her broad, flat face, the narrowed dark eyes almost reminded Claire of her grandmother, and likely would have save for the little lights tracing out patterns of circuitry beneath the flesh. “Do you know of the Lashrish ritual known as Chuyn?”
Claire shook her head to clear it, then rubbed a hand over her forehead. “I studied a bit about Lyshara at seminary. Chuyn I don’t recall directly. Now what is this about my bloodline? How do they know that?”
The Qian nodded once. “They know because we know, and we shared that information with them. If you
