Mrg-Znrnah-of-Hrnsnah, Blessed by the Hunt-of-Good-Lands to be a Most Illustrious Princess-of-The Throne-at-The-Center-of-All-Things, Four Hundred and Ninth of her Line, yadda yadda yadda, et cetera et cetera…yeah, her. She rubbed one side of her face as she pondered the choices in her life which had led to this moment. Namely, that of her sitting in her quarters with ringing ears and having to make a call she really didn’t want to make.
At first, the offer from her current ‘employers’ seemed like a gift straight from the First Pack. She’d have a stable, off-the-books source of income while doing nothing more than behaving as usual while keeping her nose pointed into the wind, so to speak. Then she’d fire off an occasional encrypted report containing all of her observations to a nondescript email box which was deliberately lost in the vastness of the Galnet.
The arrangement went very well for the first twenty years or so. But, of course, the comfort was too good to last. Bit by bit her ‘employers’ started asking for her to take a more active role in gathering information. At first it was nothing extreme, a whispered suggestion here or a planted bit of fake data there, but with every time she said ‘yes’ they seemed to take that as an invitation to ask for more the next time.
By the time she even thought about backing out it was, of course, far too late. Her ‘employers’ were now more properly labeled as her ‘masters’. They had it all, every bit of wrongdoing and illicit data she’d collected…and all of it was tied directly to her. If she told them to go chase their tails, she had no illusion about what would happen next. A few discreet leaks here and there and she’d be at best disowned by the Throne. At worst? At worst she’d be in prison.
So now here she was, taking place in a conspiracy to take advantage of a tiny-chomper. A tiny-chomper who’d been nothing but polite and pleasant to her. It was only due to bad luck that her plan at the zoo had fallen apart; if everything had gone as planned, he would now be her husband and therefore she’d be able to tap into his vast fortune. Well, to be more exact, her ‘employers’ would be able to tap into his vast fortune using her as a mere proxy.
In the Princess’s view [Harry] deserved better than that. He was a genuinely good person, someone who had taken a sudden influx of good fortune and turned it into an attempt to make everyone’s lives better. The galaxy at large remained (mostly) ignorant of [Harry] and his plan to record amazing experiences for future generations, but thanks to the agent planted among his crew Mrg-Znrnah knew about the tiny-chomper’s goals. She privately approved, and wished him great success.
But by this point her personal feelings on the whole mess didn’t matter. Her tail was well and truly clamped in a vise and there was no escaping what was to come. With a sigh she reached forward and tapped out a sequence of numbers into the encrypted comm terminal in front of her.
Entangled quantum bits reached out through the vastness of the universe, connecting the reluctant Dorarizin with…
“[What in the name of Sotek’s withered nethers is going on out there?]” yelled Whrnsnnanth’nan. The white Jornissan shoved her snout right up to her camera and glared out at Mrg-Znrnah.
The Princess winced and put a hand to one ear. “{Please, not so loud. I’m not entirely recovered from that damned sonic alarm.}”
“[I don’t care. We pay you for results, and from where I’m coiled I’m not seeing all that much. This operation is costing us serious money that we haven’t recouped yet. We sent you two operatives and thus far they haven’t done a single thing.]”
Mrg-Znrnah kept any anger off of her face. She glanced towards the door to her quarters, half expecting to see those mentioned operatives eavesdropping on the conversation. She turned her attention back to the terminal. “{This is a delicate operation. We have to be subtle, we can’t just kidnap him…no matter how much you’d like that. I know that our plan would have worked, [Harry] just triggered an accident which threw off our scent. Next time I’ll know better.}”
“[So you’re following him?]”
“{Of course. Not to the next system, that will be far too suspicious. We have his itinerary thanks to your on-board agent, and I’ve chosen where to meet him next. It should appear as just a coincidence.}”
Whrnsnnanth’nan didn’t look too mollified. “[And then what?]”
“{I’ve set out the bait. I was up front about what I wanted, and while he smelled mostly of fear I also scented some interest underlying it all. In a way, this disaster might work in our favor. He’s a…}” Mrg-Znrnah trailed off as she stared at the nearest wall, then shook herself. “{He’s a nice guy. I think he’ll feel bad about how our last date ended, and he will want to make amends. I’ll take advantage of that to the utmost.}”
Her Jornissian minder leaned back from the camera with a thoughtful set to her hood. “[Are you starting to have feelings for this [tiny-chomper]? I hope not, for your sake.]”
Mrg-Znrnah held up a paw. “{I will freely admit, I find [Harry] adorable. When we get this whole scheme to work, I intend to spoil that little tiny-chomper rotten. After you’ve gotten what you want out of him, of course.}”
Whrnsnnanth’nan snorted. “[Just keep your priorities correctly aligned. You satisfy us first, then you can vent that much-vaunted lust of yours on your new husband however many times as you like. I hope you find him a good substitute for a proper familial pack.]”
The Jornissian cut the connection before the Princess could respond. The Dorarizin’s paws balled into fists, and it was a good thing that Whrnsnnanth’nan was not physically present or else the Jornissian would have received a first-hand demonstration of the consequences of insulting a member of the Imperial House.
When Mrg-Znrnah finally spoke it was in a harsh, guttural click-growl which would have made almost anyone flee.
“{That tailless, earless, mange-ridden bitch.}”
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K’iltnah was a red giant puttering along through its stellar retirement; in the meantime its planetary system housed an older and thriving Karnakian colony. A colony which was famous primarily for housing the biggest cathedral in the Galaxy.
“[Second-biggest,]” Kant’nat chimed in from his comms workstation.
Tr’tnan’til was on the bridge as well, using a gauntlet-like device clamped onto Harry’s forearm to monitor his health signs. She’d mentioned that, since Harry wasn’t coming to sickbay for regular checkups she was going to track him down wherever he was. Harry had responded with a ‘Mountain coming to Mohammed’ joke, which in turn made Jevnar give a few pleased wags of his tail upon learning of another human phrase.
“[The Shrine of I’ll’nttna doesn’t count,]” Tr’tnan’til said.
Kant’nat turned and pointed at the picture on the viewscreen. It showed a grassy plain, in the midst of which was a giant volcanic cone formed primarily of black obsidian. Long ago the Karnakians had begun the great work of carving the mountain into a place of worship. It now sported two tall spires flanking a huge, sweeping staircase leading up to an entrance that looked almost big enough for the Thunderbird One to squeeze through.
“[The Shrine of I’ll’nttna is a hollowed-out major asteroid!]” protested the comms officer. “[It’s much bigger than that!]”
The medical officer was not going to be dissuaded; her crest flared out in a pattern indicating frustration. “[But the shrine’s not a proper cathedral! This is! It’s the home for the Bishop of the Ninety-Eighth Path…]”
Harry figured he’d act as the mediator lest a miniature holy war break out on his bridge. “How about we say it’s the largest cathedral on any planet?”
Both Karnakians subsided. “[I’ll accept that,]” said Kant’nat.
Tr’tnan’til didn’t respond, but her crest subsided as she unstrapped the medical gauntlet from Harry’s forearm.
“[So will Sir have the crew rotate through on tours, as we did with the Falls?]” asked Jevnar.
“That’s the plan. They do Congretory Speaking every other day, and I want to make sure our people are there when it happens. Compared with the Falls, it’ll take a little longer for us to all get a chance.”
“[Very well, sir.]” Jevnar turned to address Tr’tnan’til. “[How is Sir’s health?]”
“I’m right here, Jeeves!”
The chief medical officer paid no mind to her charge’s protest. “[His blood pressure is fine, resting heart rate is just as I’d like to see. My main worry is that his body fat percentage is starting to edge upward. Not at an alarming rate, but it’s still something we need to keep an eye on.]”
Harry had a sudden, horrible premonition of what lay in store. “I hear ya, Twiggy. I’ll cut back on the richer food and ask Hubert to make me some more salads.”
“[That will be a good start, sir, but not sufficient,]” said Jevnar with a finality that made Harry wince.
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“Why am I doing this?” groused Harry. He regarded the treadmill in front of him with barely disguised hate.
“[It’s good for you,]” replied Jevnar. He’d replaced his usual spotless suit for a looser set of workout clothes. He stood next to the ominous treadmill with his arms crossed and a particular set of his ears. Harry had finally figured out that particular ear-expression meant there was no way he was talking his way out of this, no matter how cutely he pouted.
“This is silly,” said Harry as he stepped up onto the machine’s rubbery belt. “It’s not like I’m planning to run a marathon or anything.”
“[Sir should still be in good physical condition. I am very capable, but I can’t be everywhere at once to protect Sir.]”
Harry stared up at Jevnar. “Seriously? I mean, I know how fast Dorarizin can run. There’s no way I’m outrunning any theoretical kidnapper, even if I was the second coming of Usain Bolt.”
“[I do not know of that particular [human], but outrunning us is not the point, Sir. You might need to run for a place of shelter, or be able to move out of the way of some oncoming danger.]”
With a heavy sigh Harry set the treadmill for a brisk walking pace so he could warm up. “It’s not like I sat around on my butt before this. Keep in mind, I was a welder. I spent my days clambering in and around tight spaces. I thought I’d left that stuff behind.”
Jevar chuckled. “[Then Sir should be able to perform a lengthy jog no problem.]”
Harry didn’t glance at Jevnar as he set his jaw and reached for the treadmill’s controls. After a bit he was trotting along at a fair pace…fair for a human, of course.
“[After this we’ll do a little practice sparring.]”
Harry hated to admit it but he was already feeling a little winded. He tried and succeeded in keeping any gasping out of his reply as his feet thumped against the moving belt below. “Now I know you’re just messing with me. I think I’m well below your weight class.”
“[Has Sir ever done anything like that?]”
“A little? I was in Golden Gloves for a bit when I was a teenager, but I haven’t so much as thrown a punch since then.”
“[Oh, I’m not expecting Sir to effectively attack me. This will be more training you to properly evade any attackers until I am able to reach Sir. And then I’ll be the one throwing punches…or worse.]”
“License to Kill, eh?” chuckled Harry, then regretted it given how hard he was breathing. “I’ll bet you have a concealed gun and to hell with any local permits.”
“[I could not possibly comment on that, Sir.]” Jevnar remained a picture-perfect example of composure, but even with his merely human reflexes Harry sill caught the slight twitch of one paw towards his armpit. The human knew that gesture meant that Jevnar carried some kind of sidearm. Given the alien’s size, instead of James Bond’s relatively tiny pistol it was probably some flavor of hand-cannon which could take out a finback whale.
Harry knew that James Bond was still kinda-sorta on the Office of Interstellar Harmony’s restricted list, so he decided not to make any further comments about how much Jevnar’s attitude resembled that of a certain martini-swilling superspy.
After fifteen minutes of torture Jevnar gave him a water break. Then the torture continued, this time at an even faster speed. By the end of another fifteen endless minutes Harry was dripping with sweat and panting like crazy.
“[It will get easier, Sir,]” said Jevnar while Harry gulped down more water.
“I hope so,” Harry gasped.
“[Follow me, please.]”
Harry took up a small towel and mopped his forehead as he followed Jevnar into the open center of the gymnasium. “Should I take off my shoes?” he asked. The human bounced a little on the padded, resilient flooring of the gym, enjoying the little bit of air he was able to catch while doing so.
“[That will not be necessary, Sir.]”
Before Harry’s breathing could recover from his run, Jevnar leapt at him.
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Harry set aside his book and stretched his arms over his head. The motion made him feel a slight crackle along his spine. He rose out of his seat and winced. It was the day after Jevnar’s ‘little’ exercise session, and Harry was sore to the point of almost limping thanks to spending a good hour running around and diving to the mat to avoid his butler.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
“He callled it ‘sparring’,” he muttered. “Sparring my arse.”
The door to his quarters emitted a soft chime.
“Come on in!”
Before the door finished sliding open, Harry found himself sharing the cabin with the big green and brown body of Jnsnrnan’sn’ah. The head of his legal team glared at Harry, but this glare wasn’t only due to the Jornissian’s facial structure. The human knew from Jnsnrnan’sn’ah’s tense body language that the lawyer was in a proper snit. Harry hoped that he wasn’t the source of the Jornissian’s anger.
“What’s the matter, Jerry?”
“[We’re getting pushback from Gnranth-Eight.]”
“Bloody hell. Do you think it’s a money thing? We did offer to build a whole new set of stands to accommodate our crew. We could even help bankroll the whole speed trials.”
“[I told them as such, but I think they’re getting pressure from somewhere else.]”
“Maybe their central government?”
“[I don’t think so. The Dorarizin Empire tends to be very hands-off regarding their colonies.]”
Harry rubbed his forehead. “It’s all right. We don’t arrive there until we’ve visited a couple more star systems, so we have plenty of time to get this all straightened out.”
“[It’s such nonsense!]” said Jnsnrnan’sn’ah with vehemence. “[I had this all set up to go as smoothly as possible…]”
The human interrupted his legal counsel in mid-rant by reaching up and placing his hand on the tip of Jnsnrnan’sn’ah’s snout. “It’s okay, buddy. It’ll all work out in the end.”
The Jornissian’s eyes unfocused as he stared off into space, lost in the feeling of that small and oh-so-warm appendage laying against his face. His entire body relaxed and formed a loose coil. “[Thank you, Harry. I just wish I had your optimism.]”
Harry just smiled and gave Jnsnrnan’sn’ah’s nose one final pat.
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Harry tugged at his collar; he was now back in his ‘alien-proof’ suit and ready for his first taste of Congretory Speaking. A proper Speaking was by all accounts one of the most amazing things one could witness and hear with one’s mortal eyes and ears. He hoped that was especially the case for this cathedral; this religious path had been in existence for longer than human civilization. That should have given them lots of time to practice. Harry just wished he didn’t have to wear a tricked-out monkey suit just to attend church.
The other irritation was the steps leading up to the cathedral’s gigantic entrance. They were made shallow, but made shallow for Karnakians. He had to hike his legs up higher than usual to get up them. Before they’d left the shuttle, Jevnar had volunteered to carry Harry up the stairs instead. But such coddling was a bridge too far for the human; he’d decided to put up with the more minor humiliation of walking like an idiot.
Awaiting them at the top of the stairs was a Karnakian whose dark gray feathers were covered with a oily, iridescent sheen. “[Greetings! I am [K’kn’itt’al], the Bishop asked me to attend to you personally during the tour.]” K’kn’itt’al lowered his big fanged head and regarded Harry with evident delight. “[Simply fascinating!]”
Harry kept his smile plastered on his face and waited for the happy raptor to finish his inspection of the human’s aura. After about thirty seconds of being subjected to some very intense four-eyed scrutiny, he figured he’d move things along.
“So, what’s first?”
The question startled the Karnakian out of his reverie. “[Oh! Oh yes, forgive me. Your aura is just so…I don’t know how to describe it.]”
“Sparkly?” replied Harry.
“[Yes! A perfect word.]” With that all sorted, K’kn’itt’al turned and trotted towards the entrance. As with cathedrals on Earth, one of the giant doors was fitted with a much smaller, normal-sized door. Well, normal-sized for aliens.
Behind the doors a large and black-walled foyer stretched off to each side, leading to many different exits. Large ribs extended up to form a vaulted ceiling far overhead. The space was lit with what looked like large oil braziers, but as Harry looked closer at their flickering flames they appeared to be some kind of hologram.
The walls were covered with Karnakian hieroglyphs etched into the obsidian. K’kn’itt’al gestured to the various carvings around them. “[This part of the cathedral took over [eight hundred] [years] to create!]”
Harry looked up at the ceiling far above. It was hard to estimate, but he figured this foyer was about the size of the interior of St. Paul’s cathedral on Earth. Big, but still eight hundred years sounded like too much time to create this. “Neat!” he said aloud while concealing his misgivings.
“[Oh yes! We had at least a thousand people working this area at any given time.]”
The human did a double-take at the intricate stonework around him as the penny finally dropped. “Wait. You carved out this entire cathedral by hand?”
K’kn’itt’al fluffed himself out smugly. “[Of course!]” He led them towards the foyer’s largest exit, a square tunnel leading further into the mountain. “[Please follow me, we have a special place set aside for you on the observation level!]”
The tunnel/hallway also sported a covering of hieroglyphs. K’kn’itt’al gestured at the carvings as they passed by them. “[These writings tell of the history of our Sacred Path, all [six thousand] [years] of it!]”
“[Very interesting,]” said Jevnar. He padded alongside Harry with his usual imperturbable air. “[How long did it take to carve out this entire cathedral?]”
“[A little over [three thousand] years,]” replied K’kn’itt’al. The Karnakian’s matter-of-fact declaration shocked Harry at first. But then he remembered that, thanks to the aliens’ much longer lifespans, three millennia corresponded to ‘only’ a few generations. Cathedrals on Earth had taken proportionally many more generations before completion.
Harry now saw bright lights at the end of the tunnel, lights which resolved into even larger versions of the holographic braziers in the foyer. An almost symphonic chorus of peeps and trills drifted towards the trio, rising and falling in pitch like an orchestra tuning their instruments. A few basso roars added some spice to the noise, roars that made a slight tingle of instinctual fear run up Harry’s spine.
K’kn’itt’al’s floofiness increased and he gave a pleased wiggle of his tail. “[Excellent, we’re just in time! They’re warming up, the Singing will start soon.]”
The human stopped dead as he emerged from the tunnel. He stared up and around at the mammoth dome stretching far overhead. It was hard to tell due to the black coloring, but the main sanctuary’s apex had to be at least half a kilometer above them. A series of fluted obsidian columns stretched up into the expanse to meet the roof; the columns also interconnected with each other in an intricate array of decorated buttresses. Harry tried to make sense of the resulting pattern but gave it up when his eyes started to water.
The floor of the sanctuary consisted of concentric circles of ever-lower levels connected by ramps which led to a small circular dais at the sanctuary’s center. Thousands of Karnakians packed each level, their crests rising and falling along with their voices as they practiced for the upcoming event. Visually that created a sea of pulsing colors, all leading to the single figure at the center dais.
Harry could see even from this distance that the central Karnakian was old. His mottled black-and-white plumage was sparse, and his whole body trembled with effort as he stood upright. He used a cane to support his weight, something that Harry had never seen with any other alien.
“Wow.” It was Harry’s only possible response to the sight.
For once Jevnar also looked awe-struck. “[I must concur, Sir.]”
Their Karnakian escort waggled his crest happily as he regarded their awestruck faces. “[To be honest I still have the same reaction, and I’ve been here [three hundred] years. This way!]” The two of them followed the trotting raptor along the outer ring. The other Thunderbird crew taking part in this particular tour nodded at their boss as he passed; he responded with his usual cheerful wave.
“Is that guy in the center the Bishop?” Henry asked.
“[It is indeed!]” replied K’kn’itt’al. “[He’s led every single Speaking for over [eight hundred] years!]”
K’kn’itt’al led them to an open spot along the outer ring, one which was surrounded by a velvet rope which wouldn’t have looked out of place in front of a popular club. The escort unhooked one of the ropes and waved them in.
Harry looked to either side of ‘their’ area in confusion. “Why reserve this spot for us?”
“[The reason is a bit embarrassing,]” said K’kn’itt’al. “[We designed the roof of the sanctuary to evenly amplify and reflect the sound during Speaking. It works well for the most part, but we found that there were a few places near the walls where the amplification is even larger. This is one of those places. As our first [human] guest we wanted to make sure you had the best experience possible.”
“Getting the red carpet treatment, eh? Thanks for honoring us so.” Harry didn’t miss Jevnar’s slight tail-wag upon hearing and filing away the human term ‘red carpet’.
“[The honor is ours. Oh, and you both should deactivate your translators before the Speaking starts.]”
“We should?”
“[Yes, otherwise they’ll keep yelling in your ear about errors. There’s no way the translation matrix can keep up with something so complex. Oooh, it’s about to start!]”
Harry’s implant only captured sensory input; he’d asked about adding a translation function to it but the testing alone would have added another year to development. Thus he’d opted for the standard semi-permanent earpiece. He went ahead and plucked it out of his ear, just as the aged Karnakian far in the distance straightened up.
The Bishop might be old, but his voice was strong as he sent up a deep, resonant trill into the air above. After a few seconds the innermost ring of Karnakians added in their own voices, building on that original note with their own harmonic tones. The next ring followed suit, then the next, then the next…
The voices built upon each other, complementary musical phrases chasing each other up and down the octaves in a manner that reminded Harry of a work by Bach. Only instead of a mere organ this music was an acapella chant sung by thousands. The volume rose as the outer rings joined in, and then just as the outermost circle began to sing the Bishop raised his feathered arms.
At that signal the volume increased and the resulting song slammed into Harry with a physical force. He stopped trying to pay attention to the various phrases and just let it wash over him like a roiling ocean of sound. As he mentally bobbed along in that aural sea he swore he could understand the meaning behind the Speaking.
Harry felt a palpable sense of longing, of wishing for all to be at one with the universe and for all people everywhere to be at peace. One of his legs twitched with the impulse to walk forward, to make that long trek to the Bishop at the center. He wanted to embrace that ancient Karnakian and to be embraced in return.
The most intense part of the song lasted what seemed like hours but which was really only a few minutes. At another signal from the Bishop, the congregation lowered its volume; the song became more languid and less intense in its harmonies. Harry now felt at peace, as if the universe had answered the congregation’s yearning request and fulfilled it.
With a few final phrases the concentric rows of the congregation began to fall silent, starting with the outermost ring. The silence worked its way inward until at last only the Bishop was left singing the same deep note he’d started with.
And then all was silent within the mammoth sanctuary. Harry blinked as he came back to himself. He wanted to say something appropriately respectful but was too afraid to break the silence. The Bishop gave a nod of his crest and the congregation stood up and began to disperse, the noise of tapping claws and rustling feathers the only sounds echoing through the giant expanse.
Harry pulled the translator out of his pocket and re-inserted it in his ear. “Thank you,” he whispered to K’kn’itt’al.
“[It is always a pleasure to introduce new people to our teachings,]” K’kn’itt’al murmured back.
A few of the Thunderbird’s crew around them began to speak softly to each other. From what Harry could hear the conversations were all variations on ‘bloody hell, that was something innit?’.
K’kn’itt’al bowed deeply towards Harry, managing to boop the human’s nose with his crest feathers. “[The Bishop wished to speak with you after the Speaking, if you are agreeable.]”
“Sure!” Harry glanced over to Jevnar, just to make sure that the Dorarizin was agreeable with the impromptu invitation. Jevnar nodded an ear, and Harry turned back to K’kn’itt’al. “I’d…we’d be glad to!”
With a pleased trill their escort led them to one of the ramps which led to the center dais; the Bishop still stood there, watching benevolently as the congregation filed out of the sanctuary. The trio passed many hundreds of Karnakians on the way to the center, and every single one of them gave intense, four-eyed stares towards the human.
Harry mused on how much he’d gotten used to such scrutiny. When Harry had first started interacting with aliens, getting this much predator-like attention from giant fanged raptors would have sent him into a panic. But now this attention was old hat, and he settled for respectful nods towards those staring at him.
Ti’h’’nna’’’til, The Most Reverend Beacon-of-Light and Bishop of the Ninety-Eighth Path of the Great Spirit, waited for them with a patient air. He leaned both clawed hands on a cane made of polished dark wood; the cane was carved into a gentle organic curve which echoed the original branch it was made from.
When Harry was near, Ti’h’’nna’’’til hopped off of the dais in a sprightly manner that belied his age. And now that he was this close Harry could tell that the Bishop was very old. The pebbled skin of his snout was wrinkled, and the sparseness of his mottled feathers was much more extreme than that of any warm-weather-adapted Karnakian.
And when he spoke, there was an ever-so-subtle cracking in his voice that managed to filter through the translator. “[I bid you welcome, little one! May the Great Spirit guide you always.]”
Harry had read up enough on the Path’s protocols to know the proper response. He bowed a little and replied, “I thank you for your blessing, and may you find wholeness as well.”
The Bishop’s crest bobbed in a pleased manner. “[I am glad you could visit us. May I approach? I have not seen one of your kind in person.]”
“Sure, please do.”
Ti’h’’nna’’’til walked towards Harry. Instead of the normal agile trotting of a typical Karnakian, he moved more slowly and used his cane to support himself. He got within a couple of meters of Harry and stopped, twisting his wrinkled snout back and forth as he examined Harry’s head from all angles.
Nobody said anything while the Bishop performed his scanning, and Harry out of nervousness decided to fill the silence. “I imagine my, er, soul looks interesting. We have some Karnakians among our crew, and they’ve tried to describe what it looks like to me.”
K’kn’itt’al spoke from his position near Harry’s shoulder. “[His Most Reverend is much more adept than most at plucking meaning from the souls he sees. He has spent many years refining this ability.]”
“That’s neat,” said Harry. He turned to the Bishop, who was still doing his side-to-side scan. “How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?”
The Bishop stopped his bobbing and smiled, apparently trying to copy the human expression. It didn’t fill Harry with much confidence, given how that smile exposed rows of teeth the size of steak knives. “[As of this upcoming solstice I shall be [nine hundred and thirty] years of age. About [one hundred] years ago I stopped taking my life-extension treatments, and within a few [decades] I expect to recombine with the Great Spirit.]”
For a moment, Harry was at a loss for words. He’d heard vague statements that the standard alien life expectancy was around a thousand years, but he hadn’t known until now that this limit was artificially imposed.
“That’s…I mean, I guess that’s good? If that’s what you want.”
The Bishop let out a sad little trill upon hearing Harry’s reluctant approval. “[Please forgive me, I forgot how short-lived [humans] are. May I approach and touch you?]”
Ordinarily Harry would demur out of fear of an inadvertent Hanking, but something about the old Karnakian’s demeanor told him that it was safe to let the Bishop do as he’d asked. “Yes, you may.”
Jevnar twitched slightly as the Bishop came right up to Harry and placed a gentle clawed hand on the human’s shoulder. Harry stared, mesmerized, into the yellow four eyes that now seemed to peer into his very soul.
“[In the fullness of time, your kind will become longer-lived just as we have. But you will find, as did we, that there is always [ennui] lurking in the background. When you have seen enough, experienced enough, your soul becomes…stagnant. Eventually it will rot. It is sad to say that there have been many examples of such rotting in our history, always leading to much pain and premature death.]”
He cocked his head, like a bird trying to decide if something in front of him was edible or not. “[Do not weep for me. I have experienced much, and when my time comes those experiences will fuse with the Great Spirit and add to its glory. Just as yours will, when your time comes.]”
Harry let out a shaky laugh. “Really? Even if I’m not of your Path?”
“[The Great Spirit welcomes all. Our teachings deal with how to best live one’s life here, so that when the time comes one may give the Great Spirit the gift of a life well lived. Now, may I tell you what I see in your soul?]”
“Yes, please.” Ordinarily Harry would expect the Bishop to say something along the lines of ‘your head is really sparkly’. But somehow he knew that Ti’h’’nna’’’til would say something more profound.
“[You have found a purpose. You have had great luck in your life, and you wish to spread that luck to others. You wish to give them the experience of living your life, or at least as much as you can.]”
Upon Harry’s slow and amazed nod, he continued. “[I also see that you will be tested in the near future. You will come under great pressure to abandon your purpose, but I tell you now that you must hold fast and do not fear. There are those who will help you, two in particular.]”
As the Bishop paused it was Harry’s turn to tilt his head. “How are you seeing this?”
“[As I come ever closer to my final communion with the Great Spirit, the web of relationships which creates the future becomes more clear. But that web’s details are still somewhat clouded, so I cannot see exactly what this test will be.]” Ti’h’’nna’’’til bowed towards Jevnar. “[You are one of the two that will help [Harry] in his time of need. The other is the [human] you call Driver.]” The Bishop paused. “[I would like to speak to this Driver, if he would permit me. His place in the web of what will come is…intriguing.]”
“I mean, I’ll do my best to get him to visit you. I’ll warn you right now that any conversation will be pretty one-sided.”
“[I fear that Sir speaks the truth,]” added Jevnar.
Ti’h’’nna’’’til lifted his hand from Harry’s shoulder and laughed, a delighted trill which brightened the cavernous space around them. “[Fair enough! If I get the opportunity to see into his soul, just as I see into yours? Yes, that will be more than enough satisfaction.]”