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Space Stations Part 20

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As Flynn watched, the amba.s.sador shoved a smaller Haxadis aside and began hissing angrily at the Qian official before her. As the sibilant complaints grew louder, Flynn caught a flash of fangs. At that point the other large Haxadis intervened, interposing himself between the amba.s.sador and the Qian. The amba.s.sador pounded her fists against his broad back, while the smaller aide again moved to the fore and drew the Qian aside for more consultation.

The human shivered. "We didn't have any snakes in Ireland when I grew up. In light of what I've seen in my time on the station here, I'd not be thinking I'd react to them that way, but it's visceral."

"Well, the serpent in the Garden, after all."

"A bit of that, I'll warrant, and more." Flynn smiled as he looked back at the Unvorite. "The Haxadissi call their faith Lyshara, if I'm remembering right. We've no one here affiliated with it or a sister sect, do we?"

Meresin pressed his black-taloned fingertips together. "No, I am afraid we don't.

The Void, of course, embraces all, but the Haxadissi had been hostile to Mephisti ever since a malignant sect of ours slaughtered a 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 Unvoritecounterpart'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 Yamas.h.i.ta, 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, la.s.s. 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 ofexile, 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 amba.s.sador'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 Yamas.h.i.ta." 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 j.a.panese.

"Please, Mr. Doncaster, English. I grew up in San Francisco. My j.a.panese is not very good." She caught Flynn and the Unvorite sharing a glance, since Doncaster had gone to great pains to p.r.o.nounce 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 amba.s.sador, has gone into labor rather prematurely."

Doncaster nodded rea.s.suringly at the two Haxadissi. "Your partic.i.p.ation 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 j.a.panese blood, Father, therefore are descended from Amaterasu-O-Mi-Kami, the G.o.ddess 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, flatface, 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 know Lyshara, you know the Haxadis have three deities.

Good is represented by the earth, Evil by water, and Justice is their solar deity, because of the duality of its nature. In the day, the sun is warm and comforting, as is Justice when it delivers people from oppression. At night, it is cold and dark, as Justice is when it punishes Evil. Even at night, however, the stars remind the people that Justice will smile on them again."

"I remember that."

"Good." The Qian continued, her voice even despite the increased hissing from the male Haxadis. "Chuyn is a ritual employed when a child is being born while aboard a ship, over water. When a child is born on land, goodness and virtue can flow into him normally. When on water, where evil is the most influential essence, the child will be damaged unless Chuyn is performed. The child will fail to thrive and will die. You, being the offspring of a solar deity and a priestess, will represent Justice and shield the child from the influence of evil."

"But we're not over water."

The Qian shook her head. "The Haxadis define this station as a ship, not a planet.

We orbit, we are not orbited."

Doncaster smiled broadly. "Well, there it is, Father. If you will proceed through the doorway there, you can scrub up and enter the delivery room."

"No, I can't." Claire glanced at Flynn. "You know I can't do this."

Before Flynn could reply, the male Haxadis hissed explosively. A hood blossomed from crown to shoulders and his fangs flashed. The aide shrank from him as he slithered forward. Before he could reach her, however, the Unvorite stepped in to shield Claire. He snapped something in a language that crackled and the Haxadis shrank back.

Flynn nodded to the human diplomat. "Percy, perhaps you and Director Chzan can be taking our guests in to see the amba.s.sador while we discuss things."

Claire hugged her arms tightly around herself as the diplomat and the Qian cleared the Haxadissi from the room, then she fixed Flynn with a hard stare. "There is nothing to discuss. You know I can't do this. If they were Catholic or Christian and it was a difficult birth, and they wanted me there to baptize the child, I could do that, but I can't stand as a surrogate for a Lashrish priest."

Meresin tapped a finger against his chin. "I believe Chuyn requires a priestess."

Flynn nodded. "It does, which is exactly why I can't do it."

Her jaw dropped open. "You would do it?"

"How could I not?"

"It's blasphemy." Claire shook her head in disbelief. "You're using your position as a Catholic priest, your office to condone and reinforce the superst.i.tious beliefs of the Haxadis. You're fostering a belief you know to be false, a belief that will lead them to d.a.m.nation. And, for me, it would be worse, since what they really desire is my bloodline. I'm not a Shinto priest. I don't claim divinity. I have rejected that claim, as have my parents and their parents. They are asking us to mock our beliefs, and I won'tdo it."

The Unvorite's head came up. "What of the child?"

"What do you mean?"

Flynn nodded. "Yes, Father Yamas.h.i.ta, the child, think of the child. If you don't do this, the child will die."

"Because it is possessed?" She shook her head adamantly. "We all know, the three of us, that the reason the child will fail to thrive is because the parents won't care for it. They'll let their superst.i.tions convince them that the child is failing, so they will neglect it. Maybe not consciously, maybe it will fall to the aide to let the child die.

Their beliefs allow them to condone pa.s.sive infanticide. That is evil, and we should do something about it, but committing idolatry is not the answer."

Flynn's blue eyes hardened. "Better it is, then, you're thinking, for the child to die without a chance of knowing salvation, than to be raised in a tradition that guarantees d.a.m.nation?"

"There's no other choice."

The elder priest nodded slowly. "Well, Father Yamas.h.i.ta, being as how I'm not female, I can't act here. I think, though, there is always a choice. I can't be faulting your logic, for it's all in keeping with the dictates of the Church. I'm also aware, though, that those teachings and those dictates are written by men, looking to honor and give glory to G.o.d-made-man. Sometimes, I'm thinking, it's a pity that complex things get sacrificed for ease of understanding. Pity you're not of a divine bloodline.

Might let you understand what Jesus might teach on this subject."

Flynn sighed. "I'm told, given how Haxadis births go, you've got a bit of time to be thinking on this."

"There's no thinking to be done."

"Perhaps not." Flynn gave her a nod, then glanced at Meresin. "Father Yamas.h.i.ta needs some time alone. Peace be with you, Claire. If you need me, I'll be in the chapel here, praying. If you're right that there's no thinking left to be done, then praying is the best I can do."

V.

Claire Yamas.h.i.ta felt a little annoyance flash through her as she exited the delivery room. Her eyes narrowed. "Father Flynn."

Flynn nodded and offered a steaming mug. "Father Yamas.h.i.ta."

She shook her head. "I don't drink coffee."

"I know. It's green tea. Your preference runs to oolong, but this is the best I could do."

Claire accepted the mug. "How did you...?"

"I didn't. The Qian did." Flynn stepped aside and pointed with the mug in his left hand toward two chairs in the corner of the waiting room. "If you have a moment."

She paused for a second, during which time fatigue began to pound on her. "Yes, a moment, I guess."

He waited for her to sit, then settled his mug on the round table between their chairs. "I should apologize...."

Claire looked him straight in the eye. "You knew I'd help them, didn't you? Was I that predictable?"

The white-haired cleric pulled back. "I wasn't thinking anything of the sort. When I heard you say there was nothing to think about, I believed you, and there was nothing I was thinking I could say to change your mind. So I did go off and pray,hoping that G.o.d might see His way clear to helping here."

"So you thought I was totally coldhearted?"

Flynn shook his head. "Here's the thing of it, Father. Everything you said was right. I couldn't have been faulting you. Doctrinally, you were right down the line.

Defensible. Laudable. I might have been wanting to debate a point or two, but you were as right in stating your position as you were in chastising me for suggesting I would be wrong for acting otherwise."

Claire regarded him over the mug of tea as he spoke. The soft sound of his voice, the warmth of it, matched the tea for sweet scent and heat. She sipped, let the tea linger on her tongue for a moment, then swallowed. "Do you want to know what changed my mind?"

"If you're of a want to be sharing."

She hesitated for a moment, a blush burning its way onto her face. She stared down into the green-gold depths of her tea. The thought process she'd gone through had taken her from the arrogant heights of self-righteousness, which she'd not consciously realized she'd scaled until her descent began. The humbling journey to her decision to help had been painful and personal. To relate it would open her up, and part of her resisted mightily, but it relented as she had.

Claire nodded slowly. "You said you'd be off praying. I went back to my quarters, thought I might sleep. I couldn't, so I began the rosary again, meditating on the mysteries. I got to the third one, the mystery of the Nativity."

"You saw Mary as a Haxadis?"

"No doubt, if my experience is ever used in a homily, I will remember it that way, just for simplicity's sake." It would have made it all easier for her had the shift been that literal.

For a heartbeat that image of a serpentine Virgin had occurred, but she'd rejected it ruthlessly. It was too glib, too simple, requiring no insight or thought; unlike the way she'd built up her position against helping.

She sipped again, both hands around the mug's warm barrel. "Fact is, I was thinking about what you said, about what Jesus might teach, and through His eyes I saw the worry on Mary's face, then the joy and I knew, regardless of faith, regardless of species, motherhood was a link that Mary shared with the amba.s.sador. We teach that G.o.d is love, that what G.o.d has for us is love, and here I was, letting the love of a mother for her child be severed. I might have been able to justify what I was doing within the teachings of the Church, but doctrine and theology couldn't sanctify an act that was nothing but pure evil."

Claire realized that had Flynn or another priest related to her the same train of thought concerning the decision, she'd have pointed out a gaping flaw: seeing the Amba.s.sador and Mary in parallel situations created a not-so-subtle linkage between Jesus and the Haxadis infant, imbuing that child with a sanct.i.ty that demanded action, no matter how ant.i.thetical it was to Church teaching. She rejected that facile an argument because it was too shallow.

The simple truth was that the Haxadis infant did have sanct.i.ty, the same sanct.i.ty of all living creatures. Because of that, and because of the love between mother and child, she knew her decision had not only been correct, but had been the only one that was G.o.dly.

Her head came up and she smiled. "I have a sister. I was there when her son was born. I don't know if you have ever attended a birth."

Flynn nodded. "A time or three, yes, and even a human birth. People aren't alwaysat their best in that situation."

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Space Stations Part 20 summary

You're reading Space Stations. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Martin H. Greenberg. Already has 634 views.

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