She stared at him, eyes wide, then she looked down at her plate. Han leaned toward her. “So, what’s for dinner? Doesn’t look great, I gotta admit. But you’ve got to do more than just push it around your plate, you knOW.”
She shook her head. “Please … go away.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “I’m not supposed to be talking to you. You’re not of the One.”
“Sure I am,” Han said. “I’m just a little bit more of an individual One, I guess you’d say.”
921’s mouth quirked, very slightly. Han found himself wishing he could make her really smile. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Pilot Draygo,” she said softly. “I’m afraid that’s obvious.”
“Well, proselytize to me, then,” Han said. “I’ve got an open mind.
Maybe you can convert me.” He smiled, happy that he’d found her, and that she was, at least, talking to him.
921 shook her head. “I’m afraid you’re much too much of an unbeliever, Pilot,” she said.
Han reached out across the table and took her hand, the one she’d injured.
“It’s ‘Vykk,’” he told her, having to fight a crazy impulse to tell her his real name. But he managed to resist. “So, how is your hand? Any ill effects from the other day?”
When he’d first touched her, she’d stiffened, as though to pull away, then when he inquired about the cut, she relaxed. “It’s healing,” she told him, confirming what his eyes told him. “It will just take a little time.”
“It’s a tough job, working down there in the dark and the cold all day long,” Han said. “Wouldn’t you rather do something a little …
easier?”
“Like what?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he said. “What are you good at? What have you studied?”
“Well … at one time I wanted to be a curator in a museum,” she said, sounding faintly wistful. “I was going to study archaeology. I know quite a bit about that.”
“But you came here instead of going on with your studies,” Han guessed.
“Yes,” 921 answered. “This life is spiritually fulfilling. My old life was empty and meaningless.”
Han hesitated. “How do you know that the doctrine they teach here is the right one? There are a lot of religions in the galaxy.”
She considered his question carefully, then, finally, replied, “Because when we are Exulted, I feel very close to the One. It’s a mystical moment.
I feel One with the All. I’m sure the priests must be Divinely Gifted to be able to offer the pilgrims the chance to be Exulted.”
“Hmmmm,” Han said. “Sounds like maybe I should give it a try.” Over my dead body, he thought, but was careful to conceal his true feelings.
“Perhaps you should,” she said. “It’s time to head for the Altar of
Promises, now. Perhaps you’ll be blessed by receiving the Exultation, too.”
“You never know,” Han said. “Can I walk you there?”
She smiled a little, eyes downcast. “All right.”
They walked together up the jungle path, side by side amid the pilgrims, with Muuurgh trailing behind. Han tried to make conversation, but 921 was silent and unresponsive. When they reached the Altar, Han did not withdraw to the back, but instead stood beside 921 in the midst of the group of believers.
“You shouldn’t be here,” she whispered. “It’s obvious you’re not a pilgrim.”
“If anyone complains, just tell them I’m a pilgrim candidate,” Han said, trying to gently tease her, but 921 wasn’t having it. She scowled and turned away from him, concentrating on the ceremony.
Teroenza and the other priests treated the crowd of faithful to a devotion that was identical to the one Han had attended before. This time, Han had little trouble resisting the effects of the Exultation—he remained clearheaded throughout. Instead, he watched 921, saw her rapt face, and inwardly shook his head. How can she be taken in by this ridiculous bilge?
he wondered. She’s obviously intelligent. Why can’t she see that however these priests do what they do, it’s some kind of trick, not a Divine Gift?
Han watched in distress as 921 sank to the ground to receive the Exultation, then he crouched beside her as she writhed on the ground.
It’s a miracle their hearts don’t just stop, he thought. Later, when the moment of Exultation was over, and the priests were gone, he helped her to sit up.
She was smiling, though very weak.
“You okay?” he asked, concerned. The Exultation, whatever its other physical and emotional effects, seemed to leave the pilgrims drained.