• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

“But perhaps that was after we lost the grace of the gods,” Harrar said.

Nen Yim blinked at him, and Nom Anor saw what he was certain was barely concealed disgust in the shaper’s expression.

“In any event,” the shaper said, apparently dismissing Harrar’s suggestion, “this conversation will not bear the fruit that further work will. We speak of things we do not have the data to support.”

“You asked the question,” Tahiri said.

“Yes, and now I’m sorry that I did. If you will all please allow me to go back to my work …”

Nom Anor expected Harrar to snap back, but instead the priest nodded and looked thoughtful.

What in the world was going on here? Were they actually starting to believe his prophecy? Was he?

No, because he knew the source, and the source was a lie. Yes, the planet was a curiosity, but many planets in this galaxy were curiosities. And everything the others saw here was informed by his crèche-tale of a planet of redemption. That filter was causing them to see things in a very strange light.

Would they turn against Shimrra? They might. If Harrar did, he might be able to muster a great deal of support from the priesthood, and with this shaper …

But no. If Harrar turned against Shimrra, it would be to put not the Prophet of the Shamed Ones on the polyp throne, but himself. And he was in a better position to do it than Yu’shaa.

Especially if Yu’shaa never left Zonama Sekot.

And there was also the chance that Harrar already knew Nom Anor’s true identity. He had caught more than one suspicious look from the priest.

“Yu’shaa?” Nen Yim said. “What are you doing?”

“I am sorry, Master,” he said. “It is just that today’s revelations—I must ponder them.”

“You’ve been of enough help today,” Nen Yim told him. “In fact, I would rather be alone for a time.”

“In that case, I will meditate in the splendor of this world.”

He left the clearing and began wandering vaguely uphill.

There were other things to consider. From what he had seen in her qahsa, Nen Yim had come here in fear of Zonama Sekot, prepared to destroy it if necessary. She had protocols that might be useful in that, though they were obviously untried. They were in the shorthand and symbolism of the shapers, so she probably thought he couldn’t understand them.

What she didn’t know was that he had done quite a bit of shaping himself. As she was no ordinary shaper, he was no ordinary executor. He was certain he could understand and use the information if he had to. Though why he would want to destroy the planet, he couldn’t say, except that it would please Shimrra.

That stopped him in his tracks.

It would please Shimrra a lot.

If into that bargain was included the deaths of Corran Horn, who had so embarrassed the Yuuzhan Vong at Ithor, and Tahiri Veila, who had used her dual nature to betray them more than once, and a rogue priest and master shaper even now plotting against not only Shimrra but the very nature of everything Yuuzhan Vong …

Shimrra might be so pleased he wouldn’t have the one who delivered him these things executed, no matter what he was wanted for. So pleased that such a one might actually be elevated to a higher station than he had held before his disgrace.

Musing on that, he continued up the hill. Harrar had mentioned something strange on the horizon.

He stopped when he reached the summit, staring at the enormous made-objects climbing into the sky, and was suddenly shaken to his very core.

Harrar had not spent enough time with the infidels, unlike Nom Anor, who had flown on their lifeless ships and lived in their lifeless stations. Harrar would naturally not understand what he was seeing.

But Nom Anor knew hyperdrive field guides when he saw them, even if they were a thousand times larger than they should be.

But then, they would have to be, to move a planet.

Something clicked into place for Nom Anor. He sat on a stone, listening to the sounds of the strange world for a moment. He was alone, for the first time since they had crashed. With