Space Stations

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 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 ambassador 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?”