Free The Phoenix Crisis by Richard L. Sanders Page B

you?”
    “ No,” they both
admitted.
    Rez’nac felt his fury boil over. “And what
would you have me do? You and all your wisdom of a newborn
child.”
    “ It is clear what we must
do. We must return to pilgrim. It has been nigh six months since
last any of us pilgrimmed. Already our skin is beginning to show
it.” He looked down at himself and then at the others. “You see how
faded we have become?”
    Rez’nac did not see. As far as he could tell
Grimka and the other youthful Polarians were as blue-hued as they’d
always been. True, any time spent away from the Stars of Pilgrimage
would cause the skin to lose some of its vibrant blue color, but it
was not something to be concerned about. The Polarian youths had
made the blueness of their skin a symbol of their piety and worth,
a foolish belief. One that was at its core self-centered and vain.
But one that Rez’nac knew had been taking hold of this younger
generation. And, as the three youths before him took sight of him,
and judged him for the greyness of his skin—its blue almost
completely faded away—they took it as a sign of infidelity.
Clearly, in their minds, he ought to be more pious. Like they saw
themselves.
    “ No matter how many trips
around the Pilgrimage Stars you make, whether it be one or
ten-thousand, no number is enough to achieve the calling of your
birth, nor will it satisfy the duties of your birthright. It is in
how you treat others, and yourself, and how faithfully you follow
the truest spirit and purpose of our ways that decides whether you
join the Honored Dead or the Forgotten Ones when you die. No
pilgrimage will be enough to permit you back into the
Essences.”
    “ The words of a lost sinner
who has forgotten his heritage,” said Grimka. “No number of words
will ever justify your lack of fidelity to our ways.”
    Rez’nac did not want to slay his son, every
fiber of his soul went against it, but all that he knew and
understood of his ways demanded it. The Essences themselves
demanded it. The wrongly slain human soldier demanded it. It was
the unflinching, unyielding, uncaring truth. And he had to submit
to it. “You may have your Arahn-Fi,” said Rez’nac, though the words
were difficult to form. “And on the morrow we will allow the
Essences to decide.”
    Grimka bowed. “And decide they will.”
     

Chapter 6
     
    Of the original twenty-four hour window that
Kalila had given him, Calvin had about four hours left. Fortunately
the Nighthawk had made good time and was scheduled to arrive at the
rendezvous in just under two hours. That left an additional two
hours for Kalila to explain to him what was so urgent.
    The ship had followed a set of interstellar
waypoints that Kalila had provided, the end destination was a star
called Virgo Major. From what Calvin could dig up about the site it
wasn’t home to anyone, or anything. There were some satellites,
mostly rocky debris, and out in a distant orbit there was a large
gaseous planet, but all things considered, Virgo Major was not a
site of interest to anybody. Perhaps that’s why Kalila was there,
somewhere nobody would think to be looking for her.
    He reviewed the message
she’d last sent him. “ Calvin , we have to meet right away.
Time is short. Follow these coordinates. I regret I can only give
you twenty-four hours. After that, it will be too late. I pray you
get this message in time.”
    He wondered if there was more to the
message, perhaps another more specific message buried within the
text. He doubted it, but on the off chance there was, he had the
computer run an analysis. It was still ongoing but so far no useful
patterns had emerged.
    “ After that, it will be too
late,” he repeated in a thoughtful whisper. What would be too late?
Did she have news of something big? Something she expected him and
the Nighthawk to get involved with? He hoped not. Given the state
of the ship: several systems offline, most of the weapons shot, and
nearly all of the port armor