Chosen (HMCS Borealis Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page B

large hands.   He turned it over, checking the back of the page as if hoping to find more writing there.
    "Well?" said Ontelis.   The huge man had taken a long time to read such a short note.   But Balhammis was known for his careful, considered way of thinking.   Ontelis reminded himself to be patient, despite his irritation.
    The massive Palani looked down at him.   When Balhammis spoke, his voice was a deep strum.   "Well indeed," he said.   "Your pet has escaped its pen."
    "Pet?" said Ontelis.   "You supported the Elanasal project."
    "I did," said Balhammis, pausing to take a deep breath.   "As did my predecessor, and her predecessor.   We supported it, as we always have.   Supporting the search for the Elanasal, the Chosen One, has become…" he paused a moment, his mouth moving as if chewing at something.   "… an article of faith.   We never expected it to succeed."
    "But it did," said Ontelis.   This giant could be so capricious at times.   One moment he stands by you, the next moment he pretends to forget your name.   "We used a new technique—"
    "So you have told me," thrummed Balhammis.   "Again and again.   After three thousand years with other methods, your new method succeeds on the fourth attempt.   A remarkable achievement, as I've said before."
    Ontelis stared at the taller Pentarch.   When did success become a cause for suspicion?   Were they so set in their ways that they expected to fail at something simply because they always had?   It was time to move beyond old ideas.   There was too much at stake.
    He pointed at the handwritten note in Balhammis's hand.   The young Prophet's calligraphy was excellent, worthy of being displayed, if not for what it said.   "The Prophet doesn't agree with going to war against the humans."
    Balhammis dropped the note on the desk, and shook his massive head.   "That is not what he said, Ontelis.   Read it again."
    "I have read it," Ontelis snapped back.   "Repeatedly.   His exact words were that he 'doesn't understand the need' for war with the humans.   Right now, that is not our concern.   We must find him, and I believe he is headed for human space."
    "Agreed," said Balhammis.   He raised his thick white arms and plucked the eyeglasses from his face.   "The Prophet is wise indeed:   he wishes to learn more about the humans.   Going straight to their homeworld would be… the direct approach."
    "It is foolish.   I have already told our ambassador to make contact with people we can trust."
    Balhammis continued examining his glasses.   "The Exile and her consort?"
    "Yes."
    "You decided to trust the Exile with such a crisis?"
    Ontelis rolled his eyes.   "You tell me, Balhammis, who else there is.   How many agents do you have in human space?"
    "I cannot tell you—"
    It was always the same from Balhammis:   know everything, and tell nothing.   Ontelis waved a hand.   "You can dispense with your game, my friend.   You have no agents among the humans.   None."
    The giant sighed.   "Yes.   None.   Though we are enjoying some success with inorganic methods."
    "I know, I know.   I was at the council meeting where you told us.   At least you respect the council enough to give us half the truth.   Not like Threnia, who ordered the fleet to start blasting human colonies without telling the rest of us.   This is not how the Pentarch Council should function."
    "How fortunate," said Balhammis, his voice growing deeper, "that we have your example of virtue to show us the way."
    Ontelis ignored this, instead tapping one bony white hand on the desk as he tried to concentrate.   The other Pentarchs would have to be told something , of course.   Threnia and Ivenna were enthusiastic — to varying degrees, and for their own reasons — about the Elanasal project.   To them, it was an important symbol.   It was a way to show the Palani people — and the galaxy as a whole — the clarity of their purpose, and then truth of their