Endgame by Kristine Smith

Author:Kristine Smith
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: HarperCollins

CHAPTER 20

“Glories of the ship’s day to you.”

Rilas looked up from her solitary game of pattern stones to find another of the passengers standing before her table. A female, attired in the most seemly manner. Hair braided in a breeder’s fringe. Trousers, shirt, and overrobe in shades of palest green and sand.

The female bared her teeth, and kept her eyes averted. “I am ná Bolan Thea.” She spoke Vynshàrau Haárin laced with gesture that was almost bornsect in its complexity. “You wish an opponent?”

“I—” Rilas looked down at her stones. They had transitioned to yellow and green spirals, and she had only three stones left to align to complete the required arrangement when ná Bolan interrupted. Now, as she watched, the pattern altered to cross-hatching lines. She had been so close—

“I have lost you your game!” Ná Bolan crossed her right arm over her chest, a most formal gesture of apology.

“Such is not important.” Rilas cast a final look at the stones before sweeping them off the table and into her cup. “I am ná Nahin Sela, and I do wish discourse. Since we departed Elyas Station, I have spoken to no other passengers.” She looked about the games room, empty but for herself and ná Bolan. “One ship-cycle past, yet all still remain in their rooms.” She handed the other female the cup, then smoothed the table covering so the stones would tumble cleanly and lay well.

“They pray. They send transmissions to the worldskein.” Ná Bolan shook the cup and cast the stones. “Ní Tsecha Egri is dead, and they ponder that which comes after.” The polished rounds scattered across the table surface, the first pattern developing almost immediately. Left-hand spirals, a difficult design to manipulate.

Ponder? Rilas watched her new opponent arrange the stones, hands moving with a quickness that rivaled her own. “They worry greatly, I most believe. Many considered ní Tsecha as their propitiator.”

“I did not.” Ná Bolan completed her arrangement just as the spirals altered direction “What status had he, the first Chief Propitiator to be made Haárin? He was anathema.” She then used her handheld to record her points and her time. “NìaRauta Sànalàn is my propitiator.”

Rilas fought the desire to bare her teeth as she collected the stones into her cup and shook them. So good after so long, to hear the words of a godly Haárin.

She cast her stones. X marks. The simplest design. She bared her teeth and arranged the pattern, hands moving as quickly as they had when she assembled her rifle. “I have won this round!” She activated her own handheld and entered her scores. “We shall play a series—”

“Ná Nahin?”

Rilas looked up to find a ship’s security dominant standing before her.

“Glories of the ship’s day to you.” He bared his teeth. “You will accompany me, please, to the security workroom.” He stepped back from the table, then paused, waiting.

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