A Guilt of Orphans Part Five
Ama pressed her fingertipsto her solar plexus and imagined the color yellow surrounding her. The warm glow she wanted kept drifting toward the wilder energies of fire and solar flares, but that was likely her fear driving the visualization, not some warning from a universe that didn’t notice her.
“We’re here,” Tyce said, his voice clipped and tense.
Ama unfastened her harness and stood. “You will wait here.”
“I should go with you,” he protested.
He was a good man, but she worried about his tendency to believe that action was the path to every solution. Sometimes one needed to be silent, and from what Ama had read about the Rownt, silence was the most powerful asset she had—one that Tyce would shatter.
“The Rownt have asked for guidance from Amali Ahinza, not from fighters.”
“They didn’t ask for help at all, and we can talk on video screens,” he argued. Technically, he was correct. And he was the captain, fairly elected by the crew. However, he understood the limits of his power. In her role as a spiritual advisor, Ama was not constrained to listen to his edicts and she had chosen to interpret the vague call as one requiring spiritual rather than military response. It was more likely that the Rownt had some economic interest in their ship. They were a rather mercenary species, as she understood it. However, if they wished to trade, it was still best to start from a place of the spirit than the weapon. She turned and walked to the shuttle door without answering. As she suspected he would, Tyce sighed and settled into the pilot seat.
The door opened, and Ama got to see a Rownt. This was the species that was providing ore to Command, giving them an even greater advantage in battle. Ribelo had managed to finish their preparations before Earth had landed fighters on the surface of home, but the timeline had been tight.
The battle being lost, they were focused now on the war. That meant Ama had to release her anger at the Rownt for interfering.
Gods and goddesses above, but they were ugly. They had a humanoid face, but it was drawn and reptilian. The one standing in the enormous corridor touched a computer and a mechanical voice said, “Come to see the Grandmothers.”
“Ama,” Tyce said behind her, his voice full of worry.
She walked out of their shuttle without looking back. If she had, he would have recognized the fear in her expression and then he would have insisted on coming with her. The Rownt led her down passages that were not anything like the human ships Ama had lived on or the Cy ship her crew had appropriated. Like a Cy ship, the corridors were dangerously large. If the ship were subjected to unexpected gravity, there was enough room for a human body to get some serious velocity before hitting a wall. However, unlike the Cy ship where the walls were organic and yielding, this ship was made of metal and was closer to a human ship in aesthetics.
Focusing on the décor was her way of avoiding the fear that grew as she followed her guide deep into the Rownt ship. Her guide led her into a room with three Rownt so large that Ama couldn’t help but feel like prey when she stepped into the room. She had to force her gaze away from their still bodies, but her mind kept screaming about predators crouching in the grass, watching an oblivious deer. Ama didn’t discount the warning her subconscious sent her, but she couldn’t focus on it, either.
Instead, she noted the smaller Rownt in the room, one standing near a remarkably tall human. There was also a second human man in the room—a young one. The room was the largest Ama had ever seen, but given the size of the Rownt, that was not surprising. It was divided into a larger front area and a smaller back one by use of light beams that simulated curtains. That implied a psychological need for privacy. The back area was dim with stairs as the only visible feature.
The front area had a number of pieces of art, most featuring alien scenes. However, she was shocked to see an ancient Aizen Myo o in a place of honor. The sight stole her breath. She always advised others to avoid looking to the universe for signs because those reflected the feelings of the person, not a universal truth. However, she could not find a way to explain that symbol on an alien ship. The great king taught people to release passions that could turn into obsessions.
“Welcome to theCalti,” the tall human said. When he spoke, she recognized him. Liam Munson. This one had risked his life at Landing. John and the crew from Command nearly worshipped this one. Ama had read the book of his life because understanding a person’s heroes was the best way to understand the person. It spoke well of them that they admired Munson and his fight to improve himself, but faced with Liam, she did not see the wounded soul described in that book. Perhaps the author needed to update the biography.
“Thank you,” she said after taking a second to catch her breath from the revelations. “The Imshee sent a message suggesting you needed our assistance.” She chose that word specifically because the actual message had been more ambiguous. Imshee had a questionable habit of using a half dozen words in place of one, making their messages vague.
“We do,” Munson said.
