The Dead Priest

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The Dead Priest Page 8

by K A Bledsoe


  Lenore couldn’t help but smile back. The girl’s charm was undeniable. “An announcement will be made when departure is imminent.”

  “Thank you, Captain.”

  Lenore nodded and left, closing the door behind her. She debated returning to the bridge but didn’t want to face the questioning glances of her family. She saw the packages of food strapped in the corner and decided to stow them before take-off.

  As the last box slid into place, Diarmin announced departure in sixty seconds. Lenore secured the galley and headed to her cabin. She was unpacking her bag and stowing the wig and rest of her disguise when she felt the ship accelerate. By now she was experienced enough to brace herself, not needing to strap in. The cabin was neat as a pin within the ten minutes needed to go to transwarp. The physical activity helped to calm Lenore and she was ready to face everyone else without losing her emotional control.

  She had just left the cabin when she ran into Diarmin.

  “We need to talk,” he said, pointing toward their cabin.

  “Don’t you need to be on the bridge?”

  “The kids will call us if there is anything unusual.”

  Lenore suppressed a flare of irritation but entered the cabin and stood there as he shut the door.

  “Well?”

  As Diarmin flushed slightly at her question, she realized she had let her annoyance show, which started the cycle of negative emotions again.

  “When did our daughter become so paranoid and sneaky?”

  I guess he’s not beating around the bush. Fine. I won’t either.

  “She’s always been sneaky, you know that.” She ignored Diarmin as he opened his mouth to say something. “And you know what I always say, ‘Better paranoid—’”

  “‘Than hurt or dead.’ Yeah, we’ve heard that enough. She’s been sneaky with her computers, not with people. Now she’s spying on our passengers. What’s next? Invasive sensor sweeps?” Diarmin began his nervous pacing, but in their tiny cabin, he could only get three strides in. “She was the most trusting of all of us. What happened? Quinn has been more distrustful but that’s to be expected with all he has gone through.”

  “You raised them; you tell me.” Lenore crossed her arms again, letting her irritation show.

  He stopped his pacing, eyes snapping with an anger she rarely saw.

  “That’s why I am worried. Alli is not like she used to be.” He stepped toward Lenore. “She’s picking up all that paranoia from you. Do you want her to be like a Xa?”

  Lenore ground her teeth to keep from yelling. “Don’t put all the blame on me. You have been exhibiting more than your fair share of suspicion and dangerous emotions ever since you fired a hand weapon for the first time in years. You’re the one who has changed. And in retrospect, it’s a good thing I was so paranoid, or I might have been caught by Daviss.”

  “That was a coincidence. Also, I am dealing with my issues, but you didn’t answer my question.”

  It was like a splash of cold water in her face as the realization hit her that she hadn’t answered. Is it even slightly possible I want Allison to be like me? Icy fear rippled down her spine and the look on Diarmin’s face calmed her instantly.

  “You are right, I didn’t, and I am sorry.” She relaxed further as Diarmin’s eyes lost some of their anger. “Obviously I don’t want her, or Quinn, to be like the Xa. I have always said that and will continue to say it. I think we can both agree, however, that recent events have changed all of us, especially the kids.” Lenore uncrossed her arms and Diarmin’s shoulders slumped as he nodded.

  “How…” he trailed off as he sat heavily on the edge of their bed. “How can we teach them to protect themselves without becoming mistrustful of everyone?”

  Lenore sat next to him.

  “I don’t know. Maybe we should explain to them that a little paranoia is good, but it can go too far. Maybe,” she patted his knee. “Maybe start showing a little more trust ourselves so our kids won’t become so jaded. Starting with this assignment. After all, I think a single young woman and scrawny scientist hardly pose a threat. It’s off the ship where we can allow suspicion, not here in a safe environment.”

  Diarmin’s smile made her heart lift for the first time in days.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “What is this fabulous dish?”

  Everyone was in the lounge for the evening meal. The extender to the table had been pulled out of storage and couches pushed to the corners to make room for the family and passengers. Even though it had been Diarmin’s idea, he was still worried it was the wrong one, but he couldn’t say exactly why. Awkwardness prevailed, but Kurla Plaad was doing her best to break the ice.

  “That, Ms. Plaad, is called foie gras with Morellian wafers and the main dish is, I believe, Keyon legumes, a rare delicacy said to adjust itself to the eater’s preference,” he replied.

  “Well,” Kurla took another small bite and chewed thoughtfully. “It does appear to do that, and it is absolutely delicious.” She pointed with her fork at Diarmin’s food. “How come I get the good stuff and you all are eating stew? Well, except for Mr. Bondle.”

  “We save the best for our passengers, Ms. Plaad,” said Lenore quickly, glancing at Quinn and Allison. Diarmin figured she spoke up hoping they wouldn’t mention that the family was tired of eating the outlandish food that had been given to them from a king’s larder. But since they had hardly spoken two words since everyone sat down, Diarmin wasn’t worried too much about that.

  “Oh, please, call me Kurla.”

  Silence descended again on the table.

  “So, um, Kurla,” said Lenore. “How did you become a member of your Order? Sounds like an interesting group.”

  “That’s a long story, but I will try to make it short.” She put down her fork, leaned forward with her elbows on the table and made sure to look at everyone in turn as she spoke.

  Interesting, thought Diarmin. Tricks to engage and create trust. Must have learned it in her training as a priest. He took another bite of stew and listened.

  “My parents were farmers on the agricultural planet Omiem, which means ‘Home’ in the native language.” She sighed. “Quite unoriginal, I know, but most of the population are like that, my parents especially. My older brother and sister were quite content with their life, working the farm and digging in the dirt coming as natural as breathing. I found happiness in other things, like books.”

  “Books?” asked Allison. “Not holonovels or vids?”

  “Actual paper books, if you can believe that. The only place to find those ‘luxuries’ as my family called them, was in the city’s public libraries and I wasn’t allowed to go there alone as a youngster.”

  “Not even games?” Allison’s eyes grew huge as her voice dropped to a whisper. “No computers?”

  Kurla laughed. “I know. It seems so primitive and I never realized how sheltered I was. When I was sixteen, I went on a trip with my school into the only large city on the planet. I was overwhelmed at all the technology and experiences that I had never seen growing up. Don’t get me wrong.” She held a palm up, probably in reaction to the look of horror on Allison’s face. “My parents loved me, and I never felt neglected, only that I didn’t fit in. When the class visited the history museum, it changed my life. Most of the students listened to how our ancestors came to the planet to ‘get back to the land’ and lead simpler life. But all I could think about was that there were other planets and different cultures and I craved to see them all!”

  “So that’s why you joined the Order? Because they travel?” asked Quinn, his first words at the table. Diarmin was pleased at his children’s participation.

  “Well, not exactly. That was a coincidence.” Kurla picked up a legume daintily on the tip of her fork, popped it in her mouth and chewed slowly with a slight smile on her face. The entire time looking directly at Quinn which disconcerted Diarmin. From the slight blush, Quinn was a little flustered as well. Probably not for the same reason I am thou
gh.

  “So? How did that happen?” It was Bondle’s turn to ask.

  Very interesting. She has managed to engage everyone at the table.

  “When I turned eighteen, I informed my parents that I was leaving the planet. They were disappointed that I didn’t want to be in the family business, but they had figured that would be my choice. I had saved up some money, and my parents surprised me with a small account that they had started for me when it became apparent that I might want more. ‘For schooling or whatever else you may need,’ they said. I was very grateful and booked the cheapest flight out. All that I owned was contained in one bag and amid tears from parents and siblings and the few friends I had, I left. The strange thing is I wasn’t sad at all, only excited about the huge universe and all its wonders that awaited me.

  “However...”

  Here she stopped and looked around the table again and Diarmin realized everyone’s attention was riveted on Kurla. He could have sworn the slight smile on her face showed she was aware of the attention and reveled in it. He vowed to be less mesmerized, but it was difficult, especially when he reminded himself that he was trying to be less suspicious and paranoid. To set a good example for his kids.

  Right.

  “However, as you know, it takes money to travel and with my naive upbringing, I thought I was rich when I left, but I ran out of credits quickly. I had only been to two planets and was now stuck in a spaceport, no place to live, no job and no money. I had fallen asleep at a cafe table after wandering for over a day. The manager shook me roughly awake and asked me to leave if I wasn’t going to order anything. I staggered out the door, still exhausted, and didn’t notice an older gentleman following me until he gently touched my elbow. So tired was I that I didn’t even react.

  “‘Excuse me,’ he said. ‘But haven’t you anywhere to go?’

  “I shook my head. ‘Was the transient hotel filled?’ he asked. I stared at him dumbfoundedly. ‘What’s a transient hotel?’ I asked. The man smiled and took me to the place he was speaking of, explaining that in most spaceports, there was a space provided for those that couldn’t afford a place to sleep or just wanted a place to take a nap before the next flight. He dropped me off there, helped me secure my belongings in a locker and left me in a large room with dozens of beds and beings from all places sleeping here and there. He assured me he would return after I get a good rest, and I passed out. When I awoke, the man was sitting on the bed next to mine and I professed my gratitude. I looked around the room and vaguely realized that, though there were as many people as when I fell asleep, they weren’t the same ones. But so fascinating. There was a blue-skinned woman, several very large people with huge muscles. I even saw a being with scales and flippers wearing some sort of breathing apparatus.”

  Kurla paused. Diarmin noticed that everyone had stopped eating to listen. “I’m sorry, I am going on and on. I don’t need to describe that hotel, I am sure you all have been to one at some point, well-traveled as you appear to be.”

  Allison opened her mouth to say something but stopped at a slight nudge from her mother. Lenore probably didn’t want to let Kurla know that the children had never been to a transient hotel.

  “Well, speeding by the details, the man turned out to be a priest of the Order of Continuing Clarity. They traveled around, looking for people in need and offering help wherever possible. I was fascinated and returned with him to New Drea to learn more about it. A few months later I joined.”

  “You gave up everything to belong to a strange priesthood?” asked Quinn.

  “Well, I wanted to travel, and this seemed the best way to learn, from a group who knew about traveling.” She grinned at Quinn. “Not to mention I had no money and no idea how to survive in the great big galaxy and these people were kind enough to help.” She lifted her gaze to the ceiling and her eyes took on a distant look. “And now I feel obligated to return that help wherever I can. Well, after I return High Priest Phylian of course.”

  Silence descended at the table and Kurla blinked a few times and looked around. She cleared her throat and applied herself to the rest of her food, her gaze now firmly on her plate. Others began eating as well and Diarmin wondered at the girl’s apparent embarrassment. He tried to start another conversation.

  “That’s a good story, Kurla.” He glanced at Ven Bondle who hadn’t said much the entire meal. “Mr. Bondle. How did you come to be a scientist?”

  A palpable feeling of relief swept across the table as Bondle looked absently at Diarmin.

  “Oh, um, well. It’s not as interesting a story as hers but I’ll try.

  “As I have said, my planet has been threatened by various plagues for over a hundred years. My father died of one when I was seven so my mother returned to work to support us. My older brother worked as well. Since she couldn’t pay for advanced schooling for me, I set my sights on bioresearch since that was the only field supported by the government. My decision was solidified when I was fifteen, after my younger sister died.”

  Diarmin glanced around the table. His story was full of loss, deeper and more intriguing than Kurla’s but his dry, emotionless recitation did not engage the listeners.

  “That year I submitted a paper concerning a possible interpretation of the plagues as one continuously adapting disease, not several different plagues. It won a national award so I came to the attention of the government. They enrolled me into a special, advanced program that let me focus specifically on finding a cure using my methods I had outlined in the paper. I graduated in three years and was instantly put on one of the ships that traveled to a variety of planets to search for a cure. I was fortunate enough to be among the group looking at new colonies and at the third stop, I found the organism I needed to create the cure. The ship dropped off supplies for the lab and two years later, here we are.”

  Bondle immediately returned to his food, obviously finished talking even though his story left way too much unsaid. He was either uneasy with attention on him or simply didn’t want to talk about it. It left another uncomfortable lull.

  “On the contrary, that was an interesting story, Mr. Bondle,” said Lenore. “And it leaves me with a lot of questions.”

  “Which, unfortunately, will have to wait,” said Diarmin. “Perhaps at the next meal.”

  Lenore shot him an annoyed look but stood at the same time and helped clear the dishes. The kids were eying both parents but said nothing.

  “Thank you for the stories but it’s time to return to work.” Diarmin placed his dishes in the recycler and left for the bridge, hoping his family would get the hint and leave the passengers alone.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Since it was Allison’s turn to clean the galley, she was the last one to the bridge. But since everyone was staring at screens not saying a word, she knew she hadn’t missed any discussions. As she sat at her console, she wondered exactly what had caused the tension. All the passengers did was tell their stories. When she heard her mother clear her throat, she knew she’d find out now.

  “Alli, where are our passengers?” she asked, keeping her voice low.

  “When I left the galley, Kurla was scrolling through the entertainment selections and Mr. Bondle had returned to his cabin,” Allison answered.

  “Did you see him go into the cabin?”

  “Well, not exactly but he said to thank everyone for the meal and that he was going back to his cabin.” Allison shrugged. “He left through that doorway, so I assumed that’s where he went. Shall I pull up the video to his cabin and check?” She was joking since she had been given the lecture not to snoop but her parents’ answers surprised her.

  “Yes.”

  “No.”

  Lenore looked at Diarmin, annoyance clear on her face. Her father looked a little angry.

  “I can’t believe you said ‘yes’, Lenore. Why would you invade his privacy like that?”

  “I don’t trust Bondle. Haven’t since he came on board. Especially after his made-up story.


  “Why do you think it was made up?”

  “Come on. Didn’t it sound rehearsed?”

  “Not really, but even if it was, it’s probably because he wants to tell that story with as few words as possible because it's distressing to him.”

  “You don’t think he was trying to play on our sympathies?”

  “Not at all. If anyone was working the table, it was Kurla.”

  “What?” Lenore uncrossed her arms and leaned back in her chair.

  “Now it’s my turn to say, ‘come on.’ You should have caught all the little tricks of the trade used to engage an audience and seem sincere.”

  “Or she could simply be sincere. And who says I didn’t catch them? Sometimes people are naturally gifted storytellers, and it seemed to me that those ‘tricks’, as you call them, were used unconsciously.”

  Privately Allison agreed with her father but wisely kept her mouth shut and fiddled with her control board. Quinn had no such compunction.

  “I agree with Mom,” he said. “There is something off about Bondle. He had zero emotion as he told us about his sister dying. Nobody does that.”

  You do, thought Allison. Especially when you talk about your experience as a captive. But again, she said nothing.

  “Quinn,” said Diarmin. “Sometimes people hide their emotions when talking about a painful subject.” His eyes slid to Lenore and returned quickly.

  “But Bondle was asking all those questions when he first came aboard, then suddenly stopped and instead hides out in his room when he’s not eating or checking his cargo,” said Quinn.

  “We were very hesitant in answering a lot of his questions. Maybe he got the hint that we weren’t just going to tell him everything.”

  “Enough,” said Lenore, her hand lightly slapping the console. “We can guess all we want, but there is really no way of knowing what is in his mind. Ah,” she said, holding up a finger when Diarmin opened his mouth. “Same thing with Kurla. Bottom line is, they haven’t done anything to make us truly suspicious so we will simply be watchful.”

 

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