“I’m afraid my time has been cut short,” Iris said, intending to keep the conversation curt. “A message came through justmoments ago. I have been summoned to usher the souls from a generation ship. It looks like I’ll be away for quite some time.”
On the surface, Bacai remained perfectly serene, tan skin unlined. But her eyes darted from side to side ever so slightly. She was checking her own messages, possibly asking her AI companion to flag any reports of generation ships in the news feeds. “Don’t you find it strange, Vessel Iris, that the Primary Temple asked foryou? Someone of—” She didn’t finish.
Someone of your unimportant and unimpressive standing,Iris finished internally.
Someone’s jealous,VIFAI said, and Iris begged it to be silent.
Gently, gently, it was all to be handled gently. Politeness and respect were to be held above all else, especially at the temple, where every clay wall had ears of its own and mouths eager to spread the recent temple gossip. Nothing but universal love for everything and everyone, including Vessel Bacai, whose arrogant big toe now pushed its way past the threshold and took residence in Iris’s room.
“Would you like me to suggest you go, Vessel Bacai, in my stead?” Iris asked, voice tranquil, his face unreadable. It was a daring move. She could easily supersede him and attend to the ship herself, but that would mean he had done her a favor, and Bacai resented owing anything to anyone. So, just as anticipated, she gave a chilling smile and let Iris have a small bow.
“Not at all,” Bacai said, lips stretching along pearly teeth. “I hope you enjoy yourself very much.”
Wouldn’t you like that.Every Vessel had their own subtle ways of practicing vanity. Some more obviously than others. Iris was grateful that unlike Bacai’s jewel-adorned strand of white mala beads, he had the sense to keep his sandalwood. They were the very same beads he had been given at age six when he was welcomed into the Order, and they were soft and warm, woundaround his left wrist as he scurried across the terraces, bag tucked under his arm.
“Do return swiftly, Vessel Iris,” Bacai called after him, her voice a birdsong against the rising suns. “We will all miss you terribly.”
Sweet lies, nothing more.
If he moved fast enough, he would miss most of the Vessels, the Beacons, and the novices as they moved from sunrise prayer to breakfast. Faster even, and he would miss Mother Nova as she emerged from the main garden after collecting the morning’s fruit. Their brief exchanges were mostly neutral and sometimes even pleasant. But recently their conversations had grown strained, weighed down by the gravity of things unsaid. It was simpler to avoid her altogether—cowardly, Iris admitted to himself, but simpler.Check the shuttle schedules,he told VIFAI,and find the ones that express the highest pro-Vessel sentiment, particularly by the captains.The AI buzzed affirmatively and got to work.
Iris flattened himself against a wall and squeezed by a group of elderly monks who were creating an elaborate mandala symbolically representative of the known universe using vibrant sands of reds and yellows. Swirls of colour dusted from tiny, bronzed funnels as the monks gently brushed short metal rods along their lengths, a couple grains of sand at a time. Iris didn’t have the care nor the patience for such artistry. Receiving a disapproving look, he hurried along, never lingering long enough to collect a reprimand. The mandala was to be destroyed as soon as it was completed, to signify the impermanence of even the most beautiful things. What harm was to be done if Iris were to hasten its end? The monks would disagree.
No time to ponder. Iris was already outside the main building, bare feet stepping quickly on the warm dirt of the courtyard.Several calico cats leapt from their napping spots in the sun to dodge his approach, scurrying atop the staircase and perching along the terrace. Just a few more hurried steps and he would be right at the gates, and once he was past the threshold, no one would bother stopping him.
“Blessed sunrise, Vessel Iris.”
Iris dug his heels into the ground.Hurry and find me a shuttle, please,he thought at VIFAI before turning around.
Mother Nova greeted him with a slight bow of the head and a broad smile. A wicker basket filled to the brim with peaches rested on her equally broad hip. “Running off so fast, you will rush the clouds away.”
Iris dropped his duffel bag to the dirt and bowed deeply, eyes glued to the orange dust speckled across the hem of his white trousers. “Blessed sunrise, Mother Nova. I have received a message from the Primary Temple that my services are needed at the—”
“Yes, yes, of course, at Doshua.” Without warning, Mother Nova’s hand was on his shoulder, and Iris nearly crumbled under its weight. “All messages go through me, child. So that I can find the right Vessel to send along.”
“Bacai—”
“Vessel Bacai will receive the assignment that suits her better,” Mother Nova said, squeezing Iris’s shoulder. “Everything is as the Light has intended it. Don’t overthink it, you’ll give yourself a headache. Go on then before the sun is too high in the sky. I hope you’ve packed for a long trip.”
Iris lingered a moment. Of all the ships in all the quadrants of the galaxy, Mother Nova had bestowed the honor of a generation ship upon him. Earlier that year, not six months prior, she had tried to talk him out of going aboard a small passenger ship heading back from Kirai Five, andthatwas far less impressive.He was almost upset he didn’t have to fight Bacai for this assignment.Almost.It was, after all, in Mother Nova’s words,as the Light intended it. Who was he to argue?
“Blessed day,” Iris said, breaking free from the weight of Mother Nova’s hand. He was again able to stand upright, to breathe evenly. He reminded himself that he was thrilled to go, thrilled to serve, to fulfill his purpose as a Vessel, that whatever tensions ate at him would melt away once he passed the threshold.
“Blessed indeed,” Mother Nova said with a warm smile. She walked back towards the temple with the wicker basket still at her hip. Watching her back sway with the rhythm of her steps, Iris thought how she had remained seemingly unchanged since he first walked through the gates nearly twenty years past. How little he had known about her, about her private aspirations and passions, not even her real name. She was as much a fixture of the temple as the terraces and gardens were. Permanent as the mountains looming over the horizon. Both welcoming and impartial as the rolling thunderstorms that came only in the summer nights. How Iris both dreaded and cherished the soft, ashy vowels of her speech. How all these idiosyncrasies fit into one that was the Mother Nova, he didn’t know. It wasn’t his place to know, wasn’t his place to question or understand.
I found us three shuttle options from the station,VIFAI spoke up, no louder than a whisper. Iris sensed it loitering, reluctant to interrupt his thoughts.
With a decisive square of his shoulders, Iris picked up his duffel bag and crossed the threshold of the temple gates.
“Notify the one with the least chatty captain, please.”
2
I pray and I mediate and still it’s no use. Why did you give me these thoughts that I cannot purge myself of? Why did you bestow this evil upon me? If I am a mere reflection of you, O, Light, then you must be just as cruel and vile as I am.
From the unabridged diaries of Vessel Iris, Volume Three
TheCounsel of Nicaea’s hull dominated the view from Doshua Station. The generation ship glided lazily along the length of the peripheral corridor, passing from one meteorite-proof glass segment to the next, panels shimmering like obsidian snake-skin. From Iris’s vantage point, it looked as though it was the station that orbited the ship and not the other way around. An illusion made all the more tempting by the colossal size of the vessel. Craning his neck as far as it would go, he failed to see where the hull ended and space began. Only when he found stretches of darkness devoid of all starlight did he know he was looking at theNicaea.Can you pull some stats on the ship?Iris asked VIFAI as he strode leisurely down the corridor.And anything else you can pull from the feed on generation ships. I’d like to be prepared.
