Pastor Thara requests that Cleve and Redd put their weapons completely away, but Cleve’s been burned by too many briar beasts to simply do so. “Is there anything dangerous on this island?” he asks. “The doctor had a weapon.”
“I’m afraid that you are the most dangerous things on this island,” she replies, gesturing at him and Redd. The ensign has yet to put her gun fully away, still awaiting orders from Cleve.
“There are no large animals still around?” I ask.
“Not so long as the sonic repulsor is working,” Thara says calmly.
That’s not sufficient for Cleve. “Or fighting plants? Large trees that will attack you? Briar beasts?”
“No, not on this island. This is far too recent for those kinds of growths to have taken root.”
That’s enough for Cleve to sling his rifle—keeping it still within easy reach—and order Redd to holster her pistol. Thara leads the way to the ruined cryopods. I walk alongside her chatting as we go, taking advantage of this opportunity to learn more about the University and its capabilities. The crashed colony pod she guides us through is in rough shape, much of it open to the elements. “Do you have a small, transportable miasma repulsor field with you, as well?” I ask. “How do you deal with the atmosphere here?”
“No, we are only protected from the miasma within the confines of Sanctuary. Those who wend their way on Paths outside of that take a risk. And we among the explorers, we take those risks in order to discover more Paths for people to take.”
I nod at her philosophical answer and then prompt, “But practically?”
“We’re taking more mundane precautions here. We have some level of filtering in certain more enclosed areas of the wreckage. That’s why we’re staying inside rather than out on the beach.”
Thara has questions of her own, too. “You seem like traveled individuals,” she observes. “Have you considered having your Paths cross through Sanctuary?”
“We’d be interested in visiting sometime, but like you, we are preoccupied with a current project,” I tell her.
“We don’t really know that much about the University,” Cleve says from behind us. I step to the side, opening space to include him in the conversation. “What are the attitudes towards outsiders there? Any protocols for visiting?” Under his breath he adds a little grumpily, “Because knocking on the door doesn’t seem to be a good idea.”
“Your co-leader was leading with a gun, here,” I agree.
“To be fair, we did show up with guns, too, but still,” Cleve says. Even as we talk, his eyes scan the area for threats.
“All are welcome,” Thara says grandly. “There are many Paths to Sanctuary, and I encourage everyone to find what their Path is. But we do ask that everyone come with an open heart and an open mind. And without malice.” That’s an interesting thing to hear from a representative of a group that has contributed military tech and expertise to someone else’s war. But maybe she isn’t aware of that.
Thara produces a pamphlet from one of the large pockets on her jacket. Cleve and I take a moment to flip through it. The title on the cover is Finding Your Path in Life, and on the back is Thara’s contact information at the University of Chiron—including an actual phone number! From the looks of it, the leaflet is a proselytizing tract geared toward people outside Sanctuary. There’s not a sense of once you come, you can’t leave… but there is a push for you to “sanctify yourself”—that is, convert—if you want to live within Sanctuary. Visiting, particularly on diplomatic purposes, is fine, but for any kind of residency—like the equivalent of a work visa—you have to convert. I’m not sure what that means in a practical sense, although from what Damian said, initiating into the University of Chiron is a serious matter. “It’s not a decision to make lightly,” he told me. “Search your datalinks. Search your heart. Find the harmony between the two.”
After a while, Pastor Thara announces that the next room holds the accessible cryopods. “I would ask that, before you go in, you would meditate briefly.” She pauses, closing her eyes and saying a silent prayer. Ensign Redd has been very quiet this whole time, perhaps not wanting to reveal direct affiliation with the Stepdaughters of Chiron, given that her people are soon going to be clashing with University mercenaries fighting for Morgan Industries. She mutters a prayer now herself, directed at the planet.
I rest a hand on the door and close my own eyes, shifting my attention from the human senses I was born with to the chironic ones I’ve developed here. I seek out foreign life, other than that of the humans I already know about. There’s the four of us here, the ranger and Alakai off somewhere else, and the handful of research assistants we’ve passed along the way. But what about beyond this door? Is there any inkling of life still among the cryopods?
No, there isn’t. I let out a sad sigh and flutter my eyes open again. Cleve is watching me, concern deeply etched across his features. There are so many things for him to be worried about here, from the stability of the wreckage to the risk of revealing Data Haven to a potential enemy. The way he’s eying me, it seems like I too am on the list of things that could go wrong. The ensign is also watching me, but with hope and anticipation. She’s going to be disappointed, though.
I remove my hand from the door and tell Cleve, “I think the best we can hope for here is data.”