Grand Central Arena by Ryk E Spoor

Author:Ryk E Spoor [Spoor, Ryk E]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction, Fiction, Space opera, adventure, General
ISBN: 9781439133552
Publisher: Baen
Published: 2010-04-27T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 40

‘‘Ariane Austin, I give you my name, which is Mandallon Ell Ir’Rathsab; my Faction, which is the Faith; and my position, which is Initiate Guide.’’ Mandallon’s body language—which seemed, like Dr. Rel’s, not entirely dissimilar from that of humanity—showed the lingering excitement and tension, and his tone of voice a firmly-leashed pride trying to break forth as he greeted someone for the first time with his new position.

Certainly not about to break his mood, Ariane smiled and bowed low. ‘‘I greet you in friendship and hope,’’ she said, remembering the forms of greeting Nyanthus had used previously and modifying them for the occasion. ‘‘I give you my name, which is Ariane Stephanie Austin; my Faction, which is Humanity; and my position, which is Captain. Congratulations to you, Mandallon.’’ She and the new Initiate Guide were near the center of the large room which was serving as a reception hall following the event. It’s really almost disturbingly amazing how similar we are in many things. But then if you think about it, this sort of ritual and celebration makes an awful lot of sense for civilizations.

‘‘I . . . I can hardly believe it myself. It is a miracle in itself, that I stand here speaking with you!’’ Mandallon’s voice was slightly . . . cleaner, sharper, than Dr. Rel’s, and other little details of skin, fronds, and so on, hinted to Ariane that Mandallon was quite young, the equivalent of twenty or so. ‘‘I had expected to follow the normal path, for another thirty or forty years, before one of the Guides passed beyond or set down his mantle, and even then—as I’m sure you’ve guessed, Captain Austin—there would be many of us vying for the honor. Instead, barely had I completed the Sevenfold Trail when I am Elevated!’’

She nodded, smiling. His breathless enthusiasm felt familiar, much more the behavior of someone closer to her own age than the considered and mature gravitas of Nyanthus, the calculating practical cheerfulness of Orphan, or the omnicompetent confidence of DuQuesne. ‘‘Good luck for you, then. But . . . there must have been an awful lot of older candidates in line for the honor. No offense meant to them, or you, but . . . why would the Faith select you over what was undoubtedly a large field of more experienced candidates?’’

‘‘Symmetry and symbolism, Captain Austin,’’ Nyanthus answered from behind Mandallon, drifting in his mysterious way sideways to stop near Mandallon’s side—but still slightly behind the newly-minted Initiate Guide, clearly yielding him, in this moment, the preeminent position. ‘‘You have been born anew as a people, emerged new-birthed into the Arena. You are a new people, a young people, unknown and untried. You do not need an Initiate Guide steeped in ritual and habit, one who has followed a course laid down centuries ago; you require one as young, untried, and ready to learn as yourselves. Not one unlearned or lacking in Faith, of course, but one who is ready to understand others in a way those of us more anchored to the rocks cannot.

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