13419 lines
650 KiB
Plaintext
13419 lines
650 KiB
Plaintext
===========================================================================
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Archivist note:
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Kellie Matthews-Simmon's email address is now matthewk@ucsu.colorado.edu
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===========================================================================
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Status: RO
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From: JULIA@Jetson.UH.EDU
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To: jfy@cis.ksu.edu
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Subject: (TNG) Silence, A Novel by Kellie Matthews-Simmons, Prologue
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Date: Tue, 31 Aug 1993 12:41:30 -0500 (CDT)
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The following post is part of the novel Silence, which has already been
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submitted to and rejected by Pocket Books, for reasons unclear but probably
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having to do with the absence of a "Big Threat" (tm). It is a character-
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driven work, so if you're an action junkie, look elsewhere.
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I thank Julia Kosatka (who has half of my brain!) not only for posting this
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sucker (for some reason I can't seem to do it!), but for JLP's nightmare-
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sequence as well. It added a wonderful touch to the whole.
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Kellie Matthews-Simmons
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matthews_k@cubldr.colorado.edu//matthewk@spot.colorado.edu
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copyright 1992, Kellie Matthews-Simmons
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all rights reserved
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Standard Disclaimers Apply
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Dedication
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It is a widely accepted fact that most groups of people (as of now,
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homo sapiens is our only example) tend to think of themselves as "human."
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I suspect this is true of every different tribe which has ever inhabited this
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planet. Each human language has a word whose meaning approximates
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"human", and usually is used to refer to the specific ethnic sub-group whose
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language it appears in.
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Gradually, properly, our ethnocentrism is giving way to the concept
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that every variety of homo-sapiens is human. For some, the definition has
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expanded to include other species on the planet, and possibly even the planet
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itself. The perception is evolving, "human" begins to mean "sentient",
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"rational", to include any being which has thoughts, and communicates.
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Eventually, when we find other sentient species, the definition will probably
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expand to include them as well, once we conquer our inherent xenophobia.
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The idea of "human" encompassing other than homo-sapiens is strong
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in science fiction, especially in Star Trek. Gene Roddenberry's original
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concept of the United Federation of Planets symbolizes this idea. Diane
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Duane expressed this philosophy eloquently in her original series novel The
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Wounded Sky. Vulcans, Andorians, Tellarites, Hortas, even (gasp!)
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Klingons, all are human. Not because they have a brain, two legs, two arms
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and walk upright (a Horta doesn't even have legs!); but because they are all
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reasoning, communicating beings. The sooner we learn this, the sooner we
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will cease to have wars over the color of our skin, over the religions we
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practice, over the kind of leaders we choose. We are all human. There is
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no "them", just "us". This novel was written in honor of that philosophy.
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Kellie Matthews-Simmons
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August, 1993
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__________________________________________________________________________
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PROLOGUE
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The ship was badly damaged, once-powerful engines nearly powerless,
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almost all systems but life-support down. Its pilot was immune to damage,
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but, unfortunately, its cargo was not. Already many of them had been
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irreversibly damaged by cell-mutating radiation left by its encounter with a
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cosmic string. With regret, the pilot shut down the outer banks of stasis
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units, allowing the ruined cargo to expire peacefully, without ever gaining
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consciousness, their bodies lending some small defense against the lethal rays
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let in through the massive hull-breach the string had left. The pilot sang
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sadly, both in farewell to those who had Gone, and because it would not be
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able to complete its mission. There would be one less group of unique beings.
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On the outer periphery of its senses, a disturbance caught its attention, the
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cluttered racket of living minds. Its dull glow brightened. Life meant a world
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was near, and where there was one world, there were usually several. Excitedly
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it began to search, and finding, grew dim once more. None of them were
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suitable, being gaseous giants, or rocky, airless husks. Only one world in the
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system was able to support life, and it was only marginally suitable, being too
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hot, and thinly-atmosphered for what remained of its cargo. It would not have
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been right even were it not already inhabited.
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It continued to search, to the limits of its range, and found nothing. Its glow
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faded still further, almost gone. It did not want to give up, but what choice
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had it? It sent a pulsing song into the vast emptiness, a cry to its siblings
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for help. No answering echo reached it, but then, often replies did not come
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for a few moments, as its siblings were far-scattered and intent on their own
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missions. Ordinarily it found time irrelevant, but what was a moment to it
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was a lifetime to its cargo. It could not wait for an answer.
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In desperation it turned its attention again to the inhabited planet. The world
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was not without beauty, with its fierce bronze sky, and sere, brilliant
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landscapes. The singer sensed that once the world had been different, had
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hosted seas, and been a green world, like that which its cargo had called
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home. Otherwise it could not have evolved the water-based lifeforms so
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similar to the singer's cargo. And similar they were, bipedal, beings with a
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single brain, varied sense organs, sexually reproductive. The now-absent seas
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must have been rich in copper salts, for the life-sustaining fluid of these
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beings was based on copper, instead of iron.
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Socially, their organization was not dissimilar, they lived in tribal and
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family groups, though here the female sex was dominant, rather than the male.
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Their mental faculties were more highly developed than were those of the
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singer's shipment, and their civilization far more advanced. They had not yet
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developed spaceflight, but it was not far away. Most importantly, as far as
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the singer was concerned, they had accepted the notion that life probably
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existed elsewhere, in different and varied forms.
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Though such was forbidden, it moved toward the inhabited world. It could
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not allow its cargo to perish, it could not give up hope. The world would be a
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temporary refuge for it and the beings in its care, until one of its siblings
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could come to help. It steered the disabled vessel as well as it could, but the
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heat of entry damaged it still further, more of the lives it contained ceased,
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but not all. When it finally rested on the planet's surface less than half of
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its cargo remained alive. It no longer had enough individuals to make its
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mission viable. It dulled to near invisibility, brooding on the inequitable
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nature of the universe. It had broken many laws to save its cargo, yet had
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failed to preserve enough of them for the species to continue.
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After some time, it ceased brooding. The inhabitants of the planet, curious,
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had come near. They used primitive tools and instruments to measure, to
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inspect; they used their formidable minds to evaluate. It became interested.
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There was a possibility there, of viability. Eagerly, it began to work out the
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necessary details, what amino acids would need to be restructured, what
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chromosomal tinkering would be necessary. Requiring examples of the new
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species for study, it opened the ship, allowing access to its interior, then
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closed it again, trapping the explorers inside. Commanding the small
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worker-machines to life, it gave the visitors sleep, then went to work,
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gathering samples, changing, tampering with the codes of life deep within
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each cell. Within a short time, it had implanted the first generation of
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adapted beings within femalesof both species. It was pleased. They were
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perfect. Then it woke the sleepers of both worlds, and released them from the
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ship.
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The original inhabitants, though shocked at first, extended cautious
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friendship to the newcomers. When the adapted ones were born, it caused
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much consternation. It was obvious the new lives were a blending of both
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species, yet none of the sleepers could account for how they had been
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conceived. The singer found their dismay somewhat amusing, not being
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sexually reproductive itself.
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As the adapted ones matured, they began to manifest extraordinary abilities,
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abilities neither group of progenitors had shown particular aptitude for. The
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singer wondered briefly which of the thousand changes it had made had
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produced those abilities, but then the adapted ones began to take mates of
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their own, both among themselves, and from the unchanged later children of
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their parents, and it became too caught up in the wonder of watching the
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changes it had made take firm hold and replicate in a new generation to
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bother. It was pleased. Its experiment had been successful.
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A third generation had already been conceived when one of the singer's siblings
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replied to its distress call. It listened to the singer's explanations with
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dismay, and called other siblings to debate. Laws had been broken, a thing to
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be punished, yet because of that a new life-form had been created. Like the
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other life-forms they sought to preserve and protect, it was unique. It was
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sentient. It was self-reproducing. It was innocent. They could not punish the
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life-form for existing where it should not, but its presence was disruptive to
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the life already naturally evolved and established on that world.
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By the time a decision was made, the fourth generation were nearly adults.
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The new species, though longer-lived than the original cargo, were still short-
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spanned in comparison to the singers. Since they tended to mate with their
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own kind rather than with either parent stock, they were fixing certain alleles
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in their genes which might eventually prove destructive. Work would have
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to be done to prevent this, and also they had to be removed from the planet
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on which they did not belong. The singer was given a new ship, and the
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responsibility of collecting all the descendants of the non-natives. It placed
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them in stasis and made the first of the necessary genetic modifications while
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an appropriate and uninhabited world was found for them.
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The only appropriate world found was one subject to periodic fluctuations in
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its protective upper-atmosphere. To compensate for that, the singer situated
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their primary dwelling deep underground, where the earth itself lent protection
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during the dangerous time. It also left one of its nodes in place to continue
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making genetic corrections as the species matured. For a little while it
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watched its 'children' to be sure they were well established and safe, then it
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gave itself back to the interstellar winds.
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______________________________________________________________________________
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copyright 1992, Kellie Matthews-Simmons
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matthews_k@cubldr.colorado.edu//matthewk@spot.colorado.edu
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all rights reserved
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Standard Disclaimers Apply
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From JULIA@Jetson.UH.EDU Tue Aug 31 16:33:42 1993
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["31775" "Tue" "31" "August" "1993" "12:42:04" "-0500" "JULIA@Jetson.UH.EDU" "JULIA@Jetson.UH.EDU" nil "660" "(TNG) Silence, A Novel by Kellie Matthews-Simmons, Part 1" "^From:" nil nil "8"])
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<01H2E95INC528XAHXS@Jetson.UH.EDU>; Tue, 31 Aug 1993 12:42:05 CDT
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Message-id: <01H2E95INC548XAHXS@Jetson.UH.EDU>
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Status: RO
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From: JULIA@Jetson.UH.EDU
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To: jfy@cis.ksu.edu
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Subject: (TNG) Silence, A Novel by Kellie Matthews-Simmons, Part 1
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Date: Tue, 31 Aug 1993 12:42:04 -0500 (CDT)
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INTRODUCTION
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High above the planet, a massive white-silver ship glided smoothly into orbit,
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easily avoiding other, smaller vessels, and various pieces of orbital junk.
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Though she had never been intended to enter a planetary atmosphere, her
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lines were sleek, aerodynamic, as if her designers had indulged an eye for
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aesthetic, as well as function.
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A few of the smaller ships darted close, their pilots jockeying to find a spot
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from which to get a good look. In an earlier time, those ships would have
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been a crowd on a wharf, waiting for the ship to dock. Here, she merely
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floated, silently, seemingly oblivious to their presence. After a little while
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her admirers slowly dispersed, taking their memories, leaving her alone.
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###
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Below, farther below even than the planet's surface, a woman woke, startled,
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staring wide-eyed into the once comfortable darkness, heart pounding, breath
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coming shallow and fast. Something had changed. She felt as if she had been
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suddenly picked up, and then set down a few inches from her original
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position, everything had shifted slightly. Between one moment and the next,
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something important had changed. But what?
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She sat up, wrapping her arms around drawn-up knees, rocking slightly as
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she opened out, attempting to identify what it was that had awakened her.
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For many long, frustrating minutes she left herself exposed, but nothing came
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to her. Finally, with a sigh, she stopped trying. Whatever it was, she was
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not destined to know... yet. She would have to wait. A strange sense of
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anticipation constricted her throat, kept her pulse elevated. Knowing she
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would not be able to sleep now, she dressed, and left her dwelling in search of
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food.
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###
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CHAPTER ONE
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Jean-Luc sat down on a rock and dangled his bare feet in the cool water
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of the stream. It was his favorite spot to hide, on those rare summer
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afternoons when he could manage to slip away from the vineyard. Best of all,
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Robert was no longer small enough to easily slip through the underbrush to
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follow him. He leaned back again against the rough bark of the oak and just
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listened to the quiet sounds of the water, the light breeze, and discordant
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but somehow comforting sound of his father's cultivator in the distance.
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He closed his eyes and sighed, wishing, for a moment, that he could stay there
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forever.
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As he sat, peacefully soaking up the stillness, he began to notice that
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the cultivator had developed a peculiarly rhythymic boom. He sighed again.
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Time to go back. He knew his father would be upset enough with the cultivator
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acting up again-- if he found out that his younger son had left the vineyard
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without finishing his work he would be doubly upset. He opened his eyes and
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reached up to grab a branch to pull himself up. It was hard, smooth, and
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coldly metallic under his hand. He knew what was happening, tried to stop it,
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but couldn't.
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<NO!> he screamed, <OH GOD, NOOO!!! NOT AGAIN!! NO!>
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His scream ended in a silent sob. He could feel himself screaming, but
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there was no sound beyond the rhythmic booming of the cultivator. He looked
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with horror at the stream, now encased in a transparent black tube. His body
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continued to stand, and began to walk along the catwalk that had replaced the
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stony stream-bank. Heart pounding, he tried to grab the tree only to discover
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it had become a dead-black pylon supporting another catwalk above him. He
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jerked his hands away in revulsion.
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Jean-Luc looked wildly around, and found that all the trees had become
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lifeless black columns.
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<Let-this-be-a-dream-please-let-me-wake-up-let-me-be-home>.
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His breath came in short, painful gasps. His body, which no longer
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obeyed his commands, was sheathed in a cold sweat. Before him he saw a gray
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door with the word SICKBAY printed on it. He sighed in relief as his body
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moved him toward the door and it slid open
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<beverly-will-help-me-it'll-be-alright-it'll-be-over-beverly-
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will-help-NOOOOO!!!!>.
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Picard lurched upright in bed, panting, his ears ringing with the scream
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that had finally ripped itself free of his raw and burning throat.
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"Lights up, full," he ordered, his voice a raspy travesty.
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An involuntary shudder shook him. He cautiously explored the left side
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of his face, swallowing hard, unable to shake that last dream-image from his
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mind. The image of Beverly Crusher, face dead-white, flaming hair hidden
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behind a black cowl, reaching forward to place the half-mask on his face,
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its attached laser-sight piercing the darkness in a sanguine beam. He
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clenched his fists and drew a deep, painful breath. That made three nights
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in a row. It was starting again. He knew he wasn't going to get any more
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sleep, so he got up and started to check over the next day's schedule, using
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the familiar routine like a mantra.
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###
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Picard looked around the conference table at his officers' faces. Worf was
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stoic, as usual; Data mildly curious, Will Riker and Geordi LaForge were
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doing their best to appear attentive, Beverly Crusher looked downright
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rebellious. He wasn't exactly thrilled himself. Five days of diplomatic
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'presence'... god help him, he wasn't sure he could be pleasant for that many
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days in a row, especially not planetbound, and without his ship's counselor.
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Missions like this were on the dull side at best. He knew none of them would
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be happy about his next words, either.
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"Since our presence has been requested at both the opening and closing
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ceremonies of Guide Kelssohn's Reaffirmation, we will remain here in orbit
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around Halvam for a week. For those of you on the away-team, dress
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uniforms will be required." He sat back, and waited for the reaction. It
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wasn't long in coming. Riker groaned.
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"Not that, anything but that!"
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Picard suppressed a grin, though his amusement was apparent in his eyes.
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He disliked Starfleet's formal dress uniforms as much as the next man, but
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under the circumstances it was unavoidable: Diplomatic functions required
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dress uniforms. Thus, they were stuck with the current model--a bizarre
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fusion of archaic Earth formalwear and Starfleet's current uniforms--until
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someone at Fleet Headquarters got tired of the complaints and came up with
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something new.
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He waited just long enough for them to become really uncomfortable with the
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idea, then dropped the other shoe.
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"Dress uniform will be required at the ceremonies only. In the interim, duty
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uniforms are acceptable."
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An audible sigh of relief went up. Riker eyed him askance, no doubt
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suspecting he had intentionally drawn out the suffering. He had, of course.
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His sense of humor did get the best of him at times. He leaned forward,
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steepling his fingers.
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"While I realize that the next few days will be uncharacteristically routine, I
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hope that you can all remember that we are invited guests of the Halvami
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government, and behave accordingly."
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Beverly Crusher lifted an eyebrow. "As I recall, they requested the Yggdrasil,
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not the Enterprise. That hardly makes us invited."
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"They requested a Starfleet presence." He corrected her, slightly annoyed.
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"As Captain Ng of the Yggdrasil is Halvami, their original preference is
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understandable. However, since the Yggdrasil was damaged in an ion-storm
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and is out for repairs, we were awarded the... honor instead."
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"Mmm." She said, noncomittally. "Still, it does make one feel a little like
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chopped liver."
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Data turned his head toward the doctor, head slightly tilted.
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"Chopped liver, doctor?"
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"A figure of speech, Data." Picard sighed. "Reference it later."
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"Yes, sir."
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"What sort of place is Halvam?" Riker asked.
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"Mr. Data, if you please?"
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Data nodded cordially. "Halvam is a class M planet, extremely temperate due
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to its optimal axial tilt. The solar day is twenty five-point-four hours, and
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the year is three-hundred-fifty-eight solar days. Landmass to watermass ratio
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approximately sixty-eight-point-eight-five, and the..."
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Riker held up a hand, stopping Data's recitation. "I meant the culture, Data,
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not the planet itself."
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Data stared at him for a moment before speaking. "Commander, it would be
|
|
helpful if you were to express your requests more precisely. Halvam is a
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class-A human colony, non-ethnocentric. Its population is relatively stable at
|
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three billion individuals. It was established during Earth's early colonization
|
|
phase one hundred and twenty-six years ago. Halvam's chief exports are rare
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metals, gems, medical stasis field systems, and works of art. The state of the
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economy is very good, recreational time is high, and the cultural atmosphere
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is highly cosmopolitan. Halvam is known throughout the Federation for the
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lavishness of its hospitality. Is there anything else you wish to know?"
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Riker shook his head, smiling. "No, I think that about covers it.
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"Anyone else have questions?" Picard asked, looking around.
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Geordi straightened a little in his chair. "What exactly is Guide Kelssohn's
|
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position, and what's a Reaffirmation?"
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Data turned toward Geordi. "On most human-colony worlds the Halvami
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'Guide' would be termed a 'president'. It is an elected position, those elected
|
|
serve twenty-year terms, and their duties encompass all aspects of
|
|
governance. A Reaffirmation is the ceremony given when an incumbent
|
|
Guide is reelected. This is Guide Kelssohn's second Reaffirmation."
|
|
|
|
Geordi whistled. "So, this Kelssohn's been Guide for forty years, and he's
|
|
starting his third term in office?"
|
|
|
|
Data nodded. "Correct. Election of an individual to a third term has never
|
|
before occurred, which is why they requested a Federation presence at the
|
|
ceremonies. The organizers apparently wished to make them more elaborate
|
|
than usual."
|
|
|
|
Picard waited a moment to see if anyone else would speak. When no one did,
|
|
he stood. "I believe that is all; you are dismissed. Assemble in transporter
|
|
room three in one hour."
|
|
|
|
His officers began to file out, all but the doctor who remained in her chair,
|
|
sitting stiffly, with her arms crossed on her chest. Picard recognized the
|
|
stubborn set of her chin and mentally prepared himself for a fight. When the
|
|
room was empty save for the two of them, he resumed his seat.
|
|
|
|
"Yes, Doctor Crusher?" He kept his tone even and formal.
|
|
|
|
"I still don't see why I have to go down," she said, jumping in with both feet.
|
|
|
|
He gave her his patented 'long-suffering' expression. "Doctor, you know very
|
|
well that second to myself, you are the most senior officer aboard. The
|
|
Halvami could take it as an insult if you were to absent yourself from the
|
|
ceremonies."
|
|
|
|
"It's not as if they'd declare war on us over it, Jean-Luc," she retorted drily.
|
|
|
|
"I know that as well as you do, but sometimes duty comes before personal
|
|
considerations. I realize you are in the midst of a research project, but this
|
|
does take precedence." He paused a moment, then offered his compromise.
|
|
|
|
"It would be acceptable for you to attend the opening and closing ceremonies
|
|
only, and return to the ship between events to continue your work."
|
|
|
|
The tightness disappeared from her jaw and her smile lit the room. He was
|
|
startled for a moment by how beautiful she really was. Generally he
|
|
managed to overlook it, a virtual necessity for their working relationship.
|
|
|
|
"Jean-Luc, you are a sweetheart," she declared vehemently.
|
|
|
|
He lifted an eyebrow. "Kindly refrain from mentioning that within earshot of
|
|
the crew, Doctor."
|
|
|
|
"Certainly," she winked, and gracefully unwound herself from her chair.
|
|
"Thank you, captain, I owe you one."
|
|
|
|
"I'll remember that," he replied smoothly. There were times that having her
|
|
owe him a favor could come in handy. She shot him a narrow-eyed look,
|
|
then smiled wryly.
|
|
|
|
"I'll bet you will."
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
The away-team materialized into a huge, lavishly decorated room, obviously
|
|
meant for formal receptions. At the moment it was empty, save for a
|
|
distinguished-looking man in flowing cobalt-blue robes. He was an inch or
|
|
so taller than Riker, with thick black hair liberally salted with white, and a
|
|
closely trimmed beard. His pale blue eyes flickered quickly over the away
|
|
team. He looked puzzled for a moment as he studied Data, and his nostrils
|
|
flared slightly as his eyes passed Worf, but when he saw Beverly Crusher he
|
|
reacted very strangely. Most men looked at her with admiration. This man
|
|
looked both surprised and appalled. After a moment he recovered and
|
|
smiled, a thin, chill smile devoid of meaning.
|
|
|
|
"Welcome to Halvam, gentlemen, lady. I am Ser Coran Delvekia, Minister of
|
|
Internal Affairs. I have been assigned to see to your needs during your stay.
|
|
Follow me, I will show you to your quarters."
|
|
|
|
Picard disliked him on sight. But then, the feeling appeared to be mutual, if
|
|
Delvekia's outward demeanor was any indication. He mustered a civil smile
|
|
he hoped was more convincing than his host's.
|
|
|
|
"Thank you, Ser Delvekia. I am Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Federation
|
|
Starship Enterprise. This is my first officer, Commander William Riker; my
|
|
Chief Medical Officer, Doctor Beverly Crusher; Lieutenant Commander Data;
|
|
Lieutenant Geordi Laforge, Chief of Engineering; and Lieutenant Worf, Chief
|
|
of Security."
|
|
|
|
Delvekia acknowledged the introductions with a slight inclination of his
|
|
head, then he frowned. "I was not expecting a woman. I shall have to change
|
|
the room assignments. All the serving staff is male."
|
|
|
|
Beverly tried to smooth over the situation. With a smile which could
|
|
normally charm even a Klingon, she spoke. "I'm sure I can manage by myself,
|
|
Ser Delvekia. You needn't go to any trouble."
|
|
|
|
Delvekia looked at her coldly. "You do not understand our ways. The
|
|
servants attend the rooms... always. It would not be seemly for you to have a
|
|
male servant. I will change the assignment."
|
|
|
|
"I..." Beverly started to speak, then caught the almost imperceptible shake of
|
|
Picard's head and paused, revised, then continued. "...thank you. That
|
|
would be very nice."
|
|
|
|
"Wait here. I will return shortly." Delvekia turned and strode away, his long
|
|
robes rippling in the slight breeze he created as he walked. The away-team
|
|
was left standing alone in the center of the hall.
|
|
|
|
Riker looked at Picard, eyebrows lifted in exaggerated curiosity. Picard
|
|
shook his head and shrugged.
|
|
|
|
"Friendly sort, isn't he?" Geordi commented softly, his sarcasm not totally
|
|
disguised by the natural warmth of his voice. "Seems to have something
|
|
against doctors."
|
|
|
|
"Or women," Beverly Crusher said, frowning. "He seemed almost offended
|
|
by me. Data, is this a strongly male-dominated culture?"
|
|
|
|
Data shook his head. "Not according to the records, Doctor. In fact, its
|
|
first, third and fourth Guides were women, which would seem to indicate a
|
|
fairly egalitarian society."
|
|
|
|
"Mmm. Odd. Well, maybe I remind him of his ex-wife," she said, shrugging.
|
|
"I wonder what he meant by that 'The servants attend the rooms... always'
|
|
business?"
|
|
|
|
"I would venture to guess it means the rooms are never unattended, even
|
|
when its occupants are sleeping." Data said.
|
|
|
|
"That could explain the 'it isn't seemly' comment," Picard said, nodding.
|
|
"Data, do you have anything applicable on Halvami mores and customs?"
|
|
|
|
Data paused for a moment, looking at nothing, then shook his head again.
|
|
"No sir, nothing applicable. Previous sociological studies indicate little
|
|
difference between Halvami and current pan-European Earth customs;
|
|
however the last study was done nearly twenty-five years ago, and that is
|
|
more than enough time for a dynamic culture to evolve a new set of customs."
|
|
|
|
Picard frowned. "Twenty-five years ago? Why so long? Is no one from
|
|
Colonial Affairs keeping up with them?"
|
|
|
|
"Apparently it was not felt necessary, since the world is a class-A colony."
|
|
|
|
"And just how do they expect us to be certain we are not offending colonial
|
|
cultures when they give us no current information to work from?" Picard
|
|
demanded irritably. He turned to Riker. "Arrange to have someone from
|
|
Sociology report down as an observer. Without Counselor Troi, it may be the
|
|
only way to stay out of trouble."
|
|
|
|
Riker nodded. "I'll get someone down right away, but don't you think it
|
|
might upset Ser Delvekia if we add someone at this hour?"
|
|
|
|
Picard sighed. "Good point. Doctor Crusher will be returning to the ship
|
|
after the opening ceremonies to continue working on her research project. If
|
|
we bring down our additional person then, it should cause no upset. In the
|
|
meantime, we'll have to manage. Oh, and make sure whoever you bring
|
|
down is female... we wouldn't want Ser Delvekia to have to rearrange the
|
|
rooms again."
|
|
|
|
"No, we certainly wouldn't, would we?" Riker said, grinning, then quickly
|
|
adopted a more serious expression as Coran Delvekia returned, his
|
|
equanimity apparently restored. His smile was slightly more convincing this
|
|
time.
|
|
|
|
"If you will follow me, I will show you the state apartments and halls while
|
|
the room arrangements are being completed. The opening ceremony will
|
|
begin three hours from now, so you will have time to rest after you acquaint
|
|
yourselves with the building."
|
|
|
|
Manifesting polite interest, the group trailed after him as he began to
|
|
describe the meanings of the various symbols displayed on tapestries around
|
|
the great hall. At the rear of the party, Geordi mimed a yawn at Worf. Worf
|
|
scowled at him, and Geordi grinned and shrugged. Through his VISOR, Geordi saw
|
|
a slight change in skin temperature around the Klingon's mouth and knew
|
|
from long experience that Worf was suppressing a smile. Riker caught the
|
|
exchange and shook his head. Geordi sighed resignedly and looked with
|
|
intense interest at the walls.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Their tour finally over, Delvekia had escorted them to their rooms. As Picard
|
|
had suspected, each room had its own attendant, whose only apparent
|
|
function was to attend the occupant of the room they cared for. All the
|
|
attendants were young men... boys really, younger than Wesley, save for
|
|
Beverly's whose was a girl of about twelve. As his room was the last they had
|
|
come to, Picard had the opportunity to notice a disquieting fact. And now as
|
|
he sat in the ornate chamber the Halvami had supplied him, he could not
|
|
shake the feeling that something was wrong.
|
|
|
|
He looked around the room, at the woven hangings of bright silks and metallics,
|
|
the soft couches and ostentatious decoration so unlike his spare, functional
|
|
quarters aboard the Enterprise. The rest of his away-team had been assigned
|
|
equally elaborate rooms. That in itself was not so odd, considering the
|
|
planet's reputation. His gaze traveled to where his attendant sat, quietly
|
|
attentive. That was the source of his unease. It troubled him that not only
|
|
were the room attendants mere children, they were all disturbingly alike...
|
|
small, almost delicate, olive skinned and red haired. Without regard for
|
|
gender, they were dressed alike, wore their hair alike, they even moved alike.
|
|
The sameness was somehow unnerving. Though each was demonstrably individual,
|
|
there was that disconcerting similarity about them.
|
|
|
|
He sat back in his chair, scowling absently. During the course of their tour,
|
|
he had seen two dozen or more of the 'servants.' Never engaged in any
|
|
recreational task, only working. In point of fact, all the laborers he had seen
|
|
during the tour had been of the same type. The very uniformity of the
|
|
phenotype in the servant caste, and its absence elsewhere, suggested
|
|
deliberate discrimination. He strongly suspected that it also explained Ser
|
|
Delvekia's peculiar reaction to Beverly Crusher, whose auburn hair, slight
|
|
build and deceptively fragile features put her squarely within their category.
|
|
He wondered if any of his crewmates had noticed what he had.
|
|
|
|
The other thing which troubled him was that none of the servants appeared
|
|
to be past their mid-teens, though most were much younger. Even if one
|
|
'served' only as a young adult, they had to have elders somewhere... but he
|
|
had not seen a single mature individual who belonged to the phenotype.
|
|
Granted, their tour had been confined to the complex of buildings which
|
|
made up the administrative center, but one would think, given the number of
|
|
servants he had seen, that he would have encountered at least one individual
|
|
older than twenty.
|
|
|
|
As a Federation 'A-status' human colony Halvam had to have, over the hundred
|
|
or so years of its existence, met at least minimum Federation guidelines in
|
|
order to retain its status. It was widely held to be a model of colonial
|
|
success, noted for its organization and prosperity. Yet he was suspicious, in
|
|
fact virtually certain, that they were in violation of one of the Federation's
|
|
most fundamental tenets; that which held that no sentient being could be
|
|
enslaved.
|
|
|
|
He found himself wishing yet again that Deanna Troi was not off at her
|
|
damned symposium. Her empathic insight would be invaluable in
|
|
determining whether or not his suspicions were valid. With a sigh, he
|
|
admitted to himself that he was more dependent on her than he liked... in
|
|
fact, he had become more dependent on all his top officers than he was
|
|
strictly comfortable with. He had never had a crew with whom he meshed so
|
|
well, whose abilities were so uniquely complimentary.
|
|
|
|
It was a once-in-a-lifetime phenomenon. Most captains never acquired a crew
|
|
like his. Over the past three years there had been intense efforts on the
|
|
part of some other captains to lure away some of his best officers. It was a
|
|
point of pride that none of those efforts had succeeded. Even Beverly Crusher
|
|
had opted to return, giving up the directorship of Starfleet Medical to retake
|
|
her place as Enterprise's C.M.O. Because he knew he wasn't the easiest Captain
|
|
in the fleet to work with, their loyalty was doubly appreciated. On that
|
|
thought, he turned to the youngster who waited silently.
|
|
|
|
"Excuse me...," he said.
|
|
|
|
The boy jumped to his feet, brows raised in question.
|
|
|
|
"What is your name?"
|
|
|
|
His query garnered a puzzled frown, then the boy touched his lips and shook
|
|
his head.
|
|
|
|
Picard frowned back at him, not understanding. "What?"
|
|
|
|
Again, the boy touched his lips, then shook his head, then he pointed at
|
|
Picard and touched his ear, smiling.
|
|
|
|
Picard thought for a moment, then his eyes narrowed. "You are not allowed
|
|
to speak to me?"
|
|
|
|
The boy smiled and nodded.
|
|
|
|
"But I may speak to you?"
|
|
|
|
Again, a nod. Picard thought it very odd. Why were they not allowed to
|
|
speak? Perhaps it was simply for the convenience of the guests in the room,
|
|
knowing the propensity of children to chatter.
|
|
|
|
"If I give you permission to speak, may you?"
|
|
|
|
His question was answered by a vehemently shake of head.
|
|
|
|
"I see. Well then, I suppose I must be content with 'hey you', an inelegant
|
|
solution, but the only one available. I am going to ask my first officer to
|
|
join me here shortly. When he comes, I would appreciate privacy."
|
|
|
|
The boy frowned, shaking his head.
|
|
|
|
Picard's brows lifted, a look his crewmembers knew and dreaded. "No?" he
|
|
asked softly.
|
|
|
|
The boy shook his head again, touching his chest, then gesturing around the
|
|
room before going to the door and placing both hands flat against its surface.
|
|
Once more he shook his head.
|
|
|
|
"You are not allowed to leave the room?" Picard queried incredulously. At
|
|
the other's nod, he wondered briefly how he had understood the boy's signs,
|
|
as they were in neither of the nonverbal languages Picard had studied.
|
|
Perhaps it was their simplicity which rendered them decipherable. His scowl
|
|
returned, darker than before.
|
|
|
|
"How do I contact Ser Delvekia?"
|
|
|
|
The boy stiffened, his eyes going wide. Fear, unmistakably. What was he
|
|
afraid of? After a moment, he seemed to regain his control and he gestured at
|
|
a small metal box on the desk. Picard realized it was an old mechanical-
|
|
button comunit. He reached toward it, and the boy was there suddenly, as
|
|
light and quiet as a moth, touching his hand briefly, shaking his head.
|
|
|
|
"You don't want me to contact him?" Picard asked softly.
|
|
|
|
The boy shook his head vehemently.
|
|
|
|
"Are you afraid?"
|
|
|
|
A nod.
|
|
|
|
"You need not be. I mean only to release you from those ridiculous rules. I
|
|
suppose if it is customary, I must have a servant while I stay, but fail to see
|
|
why you should remain bound to the room or to silence."
|
|
|
|
Miserably the child shook his head again. Picard sighed, rubbed the bridge of
|
|
his nose and looked around the room. He hated dealing with children,
|
|
though of necessity he had gotten better at it of late. An idea occurred to him.
|
|
|
|
"Are you allowed to go out on the terrace?"
|
|
|
|
The boy nodded.
|
|
|
|
"Good. I will require you to go out there, with the doors closed, while
|
|
Commander Riker and I speak. Is that acceptable?"
|
|
|
|
Looking pleased, the boy nodded and went to stand by the high glass doors
|
|
which opened onto a small walled terrace. Picard tapped his combadge.
|
|
|
|
"Commander Riker, report."
|
|
|
|
"Here, sir."
|
|
|
|
"Join me in my quarters. I have something I would like to discuss with you."
|
|
|
|
"Certainly, sir... where are you?"
|
|
|
|
"Four doors past you, on the left."
|
|
|
|
"Riker out."
|
|
|
|
Moments later a tap at the door signaled Riker's arrival. Before Picard could
|
|
rise, the boy had crossed to the door and opened it. It was uncanny how
|
|
quietly and quickly he moved, like a ghost. Riker looked down and seemed a
|
|
little startled, then looked at Picard.
|
|
|
|
"You wanted to see me, sir?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes, Number One, a moment." He looked at his attendant, then nodded
|
|
toward the door. The boy quietly removed himself from the room, closing
|
|
the outer doors behind him. Picard waited for Riker to take a seat in one of
|
|
the excessively cushioned chairs before speaking. Riker looked out at the
|
|
attendant who stood looking out at the teal of the sky, his back to the room,
|
|
then his gaze came back to Picard, questioningly.
|
|
|
|
"As I wished to speak about the attendants, I thought it prudent to ask mine
|
|
to leave. Tell me, have you attempted to speak with yours?"
|
|
|
|
Riker made a face. "I have, and he won't"
|
|
|
|
Picard nodded. "The one here is the same, and I have also ascertained that he
|
|
is forbidden to leave the room."
|
|
|
|
He was silent a moment, phrasing his next question. Riker must have sensed
|
|
he was not through, for he waited patiently.
|
|
|
|
"Have you noticed anything unusual about the division of labor on Halvam?
|
|
Physical labor especially?"
|
|
|
|
Riker nodded, frowning. "I have. All the laborers I've seen seem to have the
|
|
same general physical characteristics. Considering the substantial ethnic
|
|
diversity on Halvam, it seemed a little odd."
|
|
|
|
"Precisely my thoughts, Number One. Tell me, does it also strike you as
|
|
peculiar that they aren't allowed to speak with us?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes, it does. What exactly is it you suspect?"
|
|
|
|
"Discrimination at the least, possibly worse. I would like you to ask the
|
|
others if any of their attendants will speak. We must try to ascertain whether
|
|
or not their service is voluntary."
|
|
|
|
Riker nodded. "I'll get right on it." He stepped toward the door, then turned
|
|
back, frowning. "How could they have managed to slip something this
|
|
blatant past the CA review personnel?"
|
|
|
|
Picard lifted one eyebrow ironically. "Really, Number One, are you really so
|
|
idealistic. There must be a thousand ways to slide such things past during a
|
|
review, not the least of which is bribery. There is also the small matter of
|
|
the time lapse since their last review. I begin to suspect why they
|
|
specifically requested the Yggdrasil. As Halvam is Captain Ng's homeworld, he
|
|
might be more likely to overlook directive violations than an unfamiliar ship
|
|
and crew would."
|
|
|
|
"If your theory is correct, then they why haven't they hidden it? It doesn't
|
|
make sense for them to leave things status quo, knowing we would be here."
|
|
|
|
"That is the weakest point of my conjecture." Picard admitted, leaning back in
|
|
his chair and steepling his fingers. "Perhaps they felt it would be less
|
|
noticeable to leave things as they are than to try and hide them. In a
|
|
situation involving a large number of people, deception might prove impossible
|
|
to manage. Then again, perhaps they simply thought we would not notice," he
|
|
said with a slight grimace. "Judging from Ser Delvekia's attitude, they could
|
|
well think us lacking in the necessary intelligence."
|
|
|
|
Riker chuckled. "He doesn't seem to hold Starfleet in particularly high
|
|
regard, does he?"
|
|
|
|
"Apparently not. Let me know what you come up with."
|
|
|
|
Riker nodded and let the room. Picard looked out the doors, a slight frown
|
|
creasing his forehead. He had just decided to call the boy back inside, when
|
|
someone tapped at the door. Wondering what Riker had forgotten, he
|
|
turned.
|
|
|
|
"Come."
|
|
|
|
The door opened, and an elderly woman of Asian descent stepped somewhat
|
|
tentatively into the room. She looked around, almost as if expecting to find
|
|
someone else in the room. Picard quickly rose to greet her.
|
|
|
|
"Please, forgive my rudeness. I thought you were my first officer."
|
|
|
|
"An understandable mistake, as I saw him leave a moment ago. I am not
|
|
offended."
|
|
|
|
"Thank you. What can I do for you?" he asked, studying her. Her lined,
|
|
pinched face spoke of years of unhappiness. Though she was dressed in airy
|
|
layered robes in shades of gold and peach, for all their lightness they sat on
|
|
her like inch-thick armor.
|
|
|
|
She looked around again, in the same, strangely furtive manner, then shook
|
|
her head.
|
|
|
|
"You cannot do anything for me...," she sighed, her voice a whisper. "...but
|
|
possibly for the little ones. I am Seret Ng."
|
|
|
|
"You are Captain Andre Ng's mother?" he guessed.
|
|
|
|
"I am. But that has nothing to do with why I am here." She sighed and
|
|
turned away, then saw the slight figure on the terrace and stiffened visibly, a
|
|
shudder sending the elaborate beadwork on her robes into shimmering
|
|
display.
|
|
|
|
"Are you ill?" Picard asked, concerned. "Please, sit down."
|
|
|
|
She straightened, and turned back to him, her face mask-like. "Yes. I am ill,
|
|
but only with myself. I have done an evil thing, and I mean to undo as much
|
|
of it as I can. That is why I have come. I have not the time to tell you now,
|
|
but please, after the ceremony this evening, will you meet me out on the
|
|
public square, where I may speak freely?"
|
|
|
|
Picard's steady gaze narrowed. She met it for a moment, then looked away,
|
|
her expression one of... guilt? He pressed a little. "Forgive me, but I do not
|
|
understand. What is it you wish to discuss?"
|
|
|
|
"An old wrong, Captain Picard. One I helped create, and one I must help end.
|
|
But I must go, others are waiting for me. Meet me there..." she pointed to
|
|
the wide, white-paved plaza a short walk from his rooms. "...near the fountain
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at the east corner. We will speak more then."
|
|
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"Very well, madam, I will do as you ask."
|
|
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She smiled, her smile transforming her pinched, closed-off face into
|
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something he suspected approximated her former beauty.
|
|
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|
"Thank you, Captain. You are not a priest of old to give me absolution, but
|
|
perhaps my penitence will count for something in the next life. Goodbye,"
|
|
|
|
On that odd note, she turned and left the room in a swirl of silks. He stared
|
|
after her, frowning, then shook his head.
|
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"Curiouser and curiouser," he mused to himself. "I wonder when the white
|
|
rabbit appears?"
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|
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###
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>From a doorway down the hall, a man in a Halvami security forces uniform
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watched Seret Ng leave the Captain's room. After she passed out of sight, he
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stepped out and hurried away, scowling.
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###
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______________________________________________________________________________
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copyright 1992, Kellie Matthews-Simmons
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matthews_k@cubldr.colorado.edu//matthewk@spot.colorado.edu
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all rights reserved
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Standard Disclaimers Apply
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Status: RO
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From: JULIA@Jetson.UH.EDU
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To: jfy@cis.ksu.edu
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Subject: (TNG) Silence, A Novel by Kellie Matthews-Simmons, Part 2
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Date: Tue, 31 Aug 1993 12:42:32 -0500 (CDT)
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CHAPTER TWO
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Jaron Kellsohn's Reaffirmation was typical of its ilk. At least four hundred
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overdressed spectators sitting posterior-to-posterior in the hall which, when
|
|
empty, had seemed immense. Packed with people, its dimensions seemed
|
|
oddly reduced. Fortunately, Picard and his officers had been given space on
|
|
the dais, where there was at least room to breathe without becoming
|
|
unpleasantly intimate with one's neighbor's personal hygiene. Various
|
|
planetary officials droned on bombastically, while the away-team struggled
|
|
to look attentive and pleasant.
|
|
|
|
Personally, Riker would rather have been locked in a room with 'Q'. He
|
|
strongly suspected that at least some of the others would as well. He glanced
|
|
at Picard, who, though his expression was thoughtful and interested, was
|
|
definitely not completely present. Riker wondered what he was thinking
|
|
about. Their last shoreleave on Oceania? No, probably not. Knowing Picard,
|
|
he was worrying at some great philosophical problem. The man definitely
|
|
thought too much. But then, better a commander who thought too much than
|
|
one who thought too little. He settled back slightly in his chair and sighed.
|
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###
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All evening long, Beverly Crusher had garnered nothing but peculiar looks
|
|
from most of the Halvami she met. She had begun to wonder if she had a
|
|
strategically placed hole in her uniform, or perhaps dirt on her face. Between
|
|
that, and the fact that she hadn't wanted to be there in the first place, she
|
|
was not having a good time. She risked a sidelong glance at her companions,
|
|
and caught Will Riker doing the same thing. She winked, almost imperceptibly,
|
|
and he nodded, rolling his eyes: conspirators in boredom. Worf sat at strict
|
|
attention, but his eyes held a glazed-over look. Geordi had a distinct
|
|
advantage over the rest of them, he could be asleep behind his Visor and no
|
|
one would ever be the wiser unless he fell out of his chair. Data had the air
|
|
of someone watching a particularly interesting insect.
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|
She turned her head just enough to see the Captain on her left. Picard, damn
|
|
him, managed somehow to look comfortable and even interested as his gaze
|
|
ranged out over the gathered spectators, but she sensed something was
|
|
distracting him from the events. The everpresent crease between his
|
|
eyebrows seemed deeper than usual. She looked out to see what it was that
|
|
had disturbed him, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Idly, she began to do
|
|
muscle isolations to relieve the aches caused by sitting still for two hours in
|
|
chairs which had no doubt had been designed by Torquemada. And they still
|
|
had the reception to go. She wondered what this planet's version of Swedish
|
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meatballs was like.
|
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|
|
###
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|
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|
Picard sensed his officers' restlessness, and sympathized. If he hadn't been
|
|
preoccupied by thoughts of Seret Ng's strange visit he would have felt
|
|
precisely the same way. Fortunately, that gave him something to think about
|
|
while lending his 'presence' to the affair. He had noticed that there were
|
|
none of the 'servant' phenotype amongst the audience in the room, nor, in fact
|
|
were there any to be seen at all. There were, however, Halvami Security
|
|
Force guards at each entrance to the hall, in full uniform, and armed. A fact
|
|
that made Picard slightly uncomfortable. It seemed the Halvami government
|
|
thought they had something to fear... a fact at odds with the glowing reports
|
|
of a completely satisfied populace which they had been given. It was
|
|
definitely not his imagination that something was very wrong on this world.
|
|
He scanned the audience, but saw no sign of dissatifaction there, save for the
|
|
understandable discontent of complete boredom.
|
|
|
|
A flash of peach and gold caught his eye, and he focused on Seret Ng. Her
|
|
unwavering gaze was fixed on Coran Delvekia, and the loathing in her
|
|
expression was almost tangible. He glanced at the minister, but he seemed
|
|
oblivious to her gaze. Interesting. So he wasn't the only one to dislike
|
|
minister Delvekia. He grew more curious about what Seret Ng had to say to
|
|
him. Would it have anything to do with his suspicions, or was it something
|
|
completely unrelated? He made a mental note to ask Data for any
|
|
information he had on Seret Ng or Coran Delvekia. It was never wise to go
|
|
unprepared.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
The opening observances finally over, they adjourned to the reception. Picard
|
|
cornered Data and managed to find out at least a few facts about Seret Ng.
|
|
What he learned told him little, save that she and Coran Delvekia had once
|
|
been partners in a business. He saw her in the crowd, and nodded pleasently.
|
|
Though she was looking directly at him, she seemed not to see, or at least, she
|
|
did not acknowledge him. He wondered if it was deliberate, or if she had
|
|
really not seen him. He was about to go in search of Beverly Crusher when
|
|
Delvekia appeared, smiling his official smile. He sighed.
|
|
|
|
"Minister Delvekia, what can I do for you?"
|
|
|
|
"Guide Kelssohn has asked to meet you. He has heard about your many
|
|
adventures, and would like to meet the person behind the myth."
|
|
|
|
Picard winced internally. He hated that sort of nonsense, but there was no
|
|
way he could diplomatically refuse. With what he hoped was an acceptable
|
|
expression, he nodded.
|
|
|
|
"I would be honored to make his acquaintance."
|
|
|
|
"I will escort you. He also wished to meet the android."
|
|
|
|
Picard gritted his teeth and asked Data to accompany them. He loathed it
|
|
when people spoke around Data, as if he were not capable of responding
|
|
himself. Data acquiesced, and they followed Delvekia toward the more
|
|
crowded portion of the room. Picard felt rather like a carnival attraction.
|
|
|
|
He noted with interest that the crowd parted for Delvekia with silent, sidelong
|
|
glances which spoke volumes. He was not a popular man, but he was a powerful
|
|
one. Conversations ceased, or changed as soon as he got within hearing
|
|
distance. It took little effort to reach Kelssohn where he sat, like a king
|
|
holding court, in a large chair on a slightly raised dais, surrounded by men
|
|
and women in the most sumptuous garb imaginable.
|
|
|
|
Kelssohn himself was more subdued, his robes a deep, midnight blue, without
|
|
decoration or jewelry. Though he had to be in his seventies, he appeared quite
|
|
youthful. He was a large man, broad-chested, large armed, heavy in a way that
|
|
implied strength, not simple overweight. When he stood to greet them, Picard
|
|
saw that he was close to the same height as his chief minister. The darkness
|
|
of his robes seemed a calculated foil for his thick silver hair and high color.
|
|
His eyes were grey, close-set and shrewd. His grip, as he shook Picard's hand,
|
|
was firm, almost too firm, as if he were testing an adversary, rather than
|
|
greeting an envoy. That in itself was an interesting fact. Picard voiced a
|
|
standard greeting, paying little attention to what he said, concentrating more
|
|
on getting an overall impression of the man.
|
|
|
|
Kelssohn pumped his hand, and spoke in a loud, amiable fashion. He was
|
|
playing for audience effect, one eye on the crowd. Picard pegged him as a
|
|
former actor, but then, most politicians had some of that in them. He
|
|
watched Kelssohn go through the same motions with Data, and saw little of
|
|
the condescension he had expected. That came as a surprise. He had
|
|
expected Kelssohn to treat Data as most people did; as an object rather than a
|
|
person. He gave him points for that. When the man turned his attention back
|
|
to Picard, his expression was serious.
|
|
|
|
"So, it was pretty bad, that Borg busines? We heard about it here. Terrible.
|
|
Only good thing is that it's been good for our economy. With so many ships
|
|
lost, and new ones in the yards, we're getting a lot of requisitions for
|
|
state-of-the-art medical equipment to put on them."
|
|
|
|
"I'm sure your equipment will be most welcome, Guide Kelssohn. The
|
|
Enterprise uses a great deal of Halvami equipment in her sickbay. I'm sure
|
|
Doctor Crusher would be pleased to speak with you about it."
|
|
|
|
Kelssohn snorted derisively. "Ha! As if I'd want to talk medical technology
|
|
with a lovely woman like that! And Captain, please, call me Jaron, none of
|
|
that 'Guide' nonsense. We're all grown men here."
|
|
|
|
Picard disliked the forced familiarity, but nodded. He did not volunteer his
|
|
own first-name for use. If Kelssohn noticed that, it did not seem to perturb
|
|
him.
|
|
|
|
"So, how do you like Halvam, Captain Picard?"
|
|
|
|
"Our stay has been very pleasent, so far. It is a beautiful world, and our
|
|
quarters are more than adequate. I am curious about one thing, though. The
|
|
young people who serve in our rooms, why is it they are not allowed to
|
|
speak?"
|
|
|
|
Kelssohn's eyes shuttered instantly, and some of his air of joviality faded.
|
|
|
|
"Young people... oh. You mean the Government House roomservants?"
|
|
|
|
Picard nodded. Kelssohn shrugged, exaggeratedly.
|
|
|
|
"It's some religious vow they've taken, I believe. I don't know much about it.
|
|
Perhaps Coran could help you there."
|
|
|
|
"I see. I was also curious as to why they all look so much alike. All small,
|
|
slightly built redheads with olive skin. Are they clones?"
|
|
|
|
Kelssohn's stiffening was unmistakable this time. "Clones?" He laughed, the
|
|
sound forced and unnatural. "Of course not! That would be an abuse of
|
|
technology. They're all related, though, cousins or something, I think," his
|
|
eyes darted toward his chief minister, a few yards away, then returned to
|
|
sweep past Picard's face without meeting his eyes. "Again, Coran would
|
|
know more. He's in charge of the work programs."
|
|
|
|
"Thank you, I'll speak to him about it then."
|
|
|
|
Picard let the subject drop. He had gotten a strong enough reaction to know
|
|
he wasn't mistaken. Something was wrong.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
The reception lasted late into the night. After it finally ended, they returned
|
|
to their quarters in the Government House. Picard said cordial goodnights to
|
|
his officers before entering his room to exchange his dress uniform for a
|
|
standard one before leaving for his rendezvous with Seret Ng. As he
|
|
changed, he briefly considered informing Will Riker of his plans, but
|
|
discarded the idea out of hand. Without doubt, Riker would insist that he not
|
|
go, and Picard was determined to ferret out as much information as he could
|
|
before filing an official request for status review with Starfleet. Seret Ng's
|
|
knowledge could prove valuable, and she had requested him, not him, Riker,
|
|
Worf and whatever security personnel Worf chose. He would go alone. After
|
|
all, they were to meet in a very public place, so what harm could come from
|
|
it? He had a moment's misgiving at that thought. It was usually one which
|
|
presaged disaster. Shaking off that unpleasant idea, he nodded to the
|
|
youngster half-asleep on a chair by the door, and left the room through the
|
|
terrace doors.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
The square was brilliantly lit, and oddly deserted. He had expected that after
|
|
the festivities a crowd would gather there, but only a dozen or so gaudily
|
|
robed men and women wandered the broad parquetry. He drew a few
|
|
glances, his uniform no doubt accounting for the interest in him. Reaching
|
|
the fountain, he stood watching the play of water and reflected light within
|
|
the abstractly carved basin, waiting for his... contact.
|
|
|
|
He smiled to himself, the term conjured images of resistance workers, midnight
|
|
rendezvous, and uniformed evil-doers from archaic war novels he had read. He
|
|
had to admit, he felt the same slight edge of excitement he gained from his
|
|
Dixon Hill scenarios on the holodeck. No doubt Deanna Troi would have a field
|
|
day with that. Musing on the origin of the expression 'field day', he idly
|
|
circled the fountain, noting how the water slid in a smooth sheet down one side
|
|
of it, and jumped from tier to tier with spray-shattering steps on another, and
|
|
on the third spiraled in a sucession of small whirlpools. It was a lovely
|
|
piece of work.
|
|
|
|
"Captain Picard."
|
|
|
|
Seret Ng's voice brought him abruptly from his contemplation and he turned.
|
|
Gone were the bright robes. She was still in flowing silks, but these were
|
|
gray, cheerless. The color suited her aura of unhappiness. "Sera Ng," he
|
|
said, acknowledging her presence with the Halvami feminine honorific.
|
|
|
|
"Thank you for coming. Will you walk with me? I prefer to move while we
|
|
speak."
|
|
|
|
"Are you afraid someone will overhear?"
|
|
|
|
She smiled slightly, a humourless baring of teeth. "Yes, I am. I admit it.
|
|
If Coran discovers we have spoken, I will not be long for this life. I may be
|
|
an old and bitter woman, but I do not wish to die yet."
|
|
|
|
"Coran... Delvekia?"
|
|
|
|
"The same."
|
|
|
|
"He was once your partner in a business, a medical research facility, yes?"
|
|
|
|
Her thin brows lifted. "You have done your homework, Captain. Yes. We
|
|
were, and that was the beginning of my evil. Come. Walk."
|
|
|
|
Her command was just short of imperious. He fell into step beside her as she
|
|
moved off down a path which led away from the paved square into a grassy,
|
|
tree-lined park.
|
|
|
|
"Tell me, Captain Picard, did your investigation reveal what sort of research
|
|
we did?"
|
|
|
|
"I know you hold degrees in biochemistry, genetics and immunology. Coran
|
|
Delvekia also hold degrees in biochemistry and immunology. I would
|
|
venture to guess you were working on vaccines."
|
|
|
|
"Correct, in part. We dabbled in designer genetics as well, changing skin,
|
|
hair and eye color, that sort of nonsense. It was a popular fad for a time,
|
|
and I was quite good at it. However that is beside the point. We were the
|
|
best there was, then. Young, eager, greedy. Then the shock came..." she
|
|
stopped suddenly and looked around, frowning.
|
|
|
|
"What is it?
|
|
|
|
"Did you hear..." she began, and while she spoke a familiar but completely
|
|
unexpected tingling sensation suffused him. Transporter effect. Before he
|
|
had time to react, he rematerialized into total darkness.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
As his eyes adjusted to the dark, a quick look around told Picard that he and
|
|
Seret Ng had not been transported to the same location, however it did show
|
|
him four figures coming toward him, each carrying an object whose blunt
|
|
silhouette was all-too-familiar. Phasers. The nearest one lifted the object
|
|
threateningly. Dropping to his knees, he rolled past the man, under his
|
|
guard, then spun around and got in a solid blow to the back of his opponent's
|
|
head that dropped him like a rock.
|
|
|
|
A second man lifted his weapon and Picard feinted right, side-stepped to the
|
|
left, and quickly discovered that was a mistake. The move did take him out
|
|
of range of the descending blow, but unfortunately the ground to his left was
|
|
almost non-existent. He felt the edge begin to crumble. He reached for the
|
|
man who a moment earlier he had been trying to avoid, but missed. As the
|
|
ground disappeared from beneath his feet, his assailant caught him for a
|
|
moment by the front of his uniform, but it quickly slipped from his grasp.
|
|
|
|
The drop was a good three meters, and, unable to roll into his fall, he came
|
|
down with most of his weight on his right foot. Something in his ankle gave
|
|
way in a flare of white-hot pain. With a gasp, he went down on one knee and
|
|
reached for his combadge. His fingers encountered only smooth, unbroken
|
|
fabric. No communicator. Trying to ignore the searing pain, he groped
|
|
around on the ground, looking for it. Then a memory flashed... his erstwhile
|
|
foe catching him by his jacket for a moment. No doubt his communicator
|
|
now lay somewhere on the ground above, dislodged by his attacker.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Not far below, she straightened from her comfortable slouch with a start. There
|
|
it was again! Only stronger, far stronger. Her senses were awake on all levels.
|
|
She stood, uncertain, trying to fathom exactly what it was she was supposed to
|
|
do. Taking several deep, calming breaths, she reached out, searching for
|
|
whatever had triggered the compulsion. This time, unlike before, she found it
|
|
easily. There were Tall Ones above; very close. A lot of them. She isolated
|
|
the different minds... four, no, five. Four filled with dark, harmful intent,
|
|
all too familiar to her. The other... this one was different. Bright, clear,
|
|
sharp... and afraid. That fear created an immediate resonance in her. She knew
|
|
fear, especially fear associated with those other minds. But odd... the other
|
|
was not one of hers. In fact, for all its difference, it seemed to be another
|
|
Tall One. They made war on one of their own, this time.
|
|
|
|
She stood and began to pace, needing to move, and trying to sort out her
|
|
feelings. Why should she help one of them? Why was her talent insisting?
|
|
And how could she help? She had no power to intervene physically, or even
|
|
mentally; at least not when they were so focused on their mayhem. Had it
|
|
been only one, she might have been able to help, but not four, that was too
|
|
many.
|
|
|
|
Because she had not been paying attention for a moment the pain, when it
|
|
came, nearly overwhelmed her; it was almost her own. With a gasp she
|
|
closed off that level of awareness and had to spend a moment reassuring
|
|
herself that she was not, in reality, injured. Then as she turned her
|
|
concentration back to what was happening above, she realized that the
|
|
situation had changed; she had a chance now. The compulsion to help
|
|
strengthened almost unbearably and she succumbed to it. Quickly she
|
|
extinguished her light and scrambled into the passageway which led to the
|
|
surface, moving with the ease of long familiarity.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Picard muttered a soft curse as he shifted to a slightly less painful position
|
|
and looked up, trying to ascertain what was happening. There was a very
|
|
good chance they would come looking for him, so he gritted his teeth, and
|
|
pushed himself under the slight overhang, edging his way along it, away
|
|
from the spot where he had fallen. Hopefully they would assume he had
|
|
transported out, and not look far.
|
|
|
|
Every movement sent shards of agony spearing up from his ankle, which was
|
|
either broken, or badly dislocated. Despite the pain and the circumstances, he
|
|
almost chuckled at the thought of what Will Riker's face would look like
|
|
when he realized he was short one person... the one person he had sworn to
|
|
keep out of trouble. It would almost be worth the pain to be able to see that
|
|
expression. Almost.
|
|
|
|
Something wet and cold splattered against his face, then another, and another.
|
|
It was raining. He sighed. It figured. Off to his left, a fall of earth and
|
|
stones rattled down, and a light flashed across the area, just missing him.
|
|
He swore, and as quickly as he could, moved a few feet further away, fighting
|
|
the need to express his pain in sound. Leaning back, he discovered an
|
|
opening behind him.
|
|
|
|
Gratefully he slid into it, and then barely managed to stifle a yelp of
|
|
surprise as a hand took his. Immediately a finger was placed against his lips
|
|
for a moment, and the hand on his tugged, urging him farther into the shelter
|
|
which seemed to lengthen, and widen immediately. He felt whoever it was
|
|
move past him, heard the sound of stone moving on stone, and what little
|
|
light there had been disappeared. A moment later, the hand returned to pull
|
|
at his sleeve and he followed until he couldn't move any more, the pain rising
|
|
in a dark tide that threatened consciousness. He stopped with a gasp.
|
|
|
|
Immediately he felt cool palms against the sides of his face. Oddly, a tingling
|
|
sensation seemed to spread from where they touched him, and a peculiarly
|
|
sensual feeling of well-being, almost pleasure, flowed down to mask the pain.
|
|
After a moment, the hands left his face and one of them found his hand to
|
|
urge him on. Experimentally, he moved, found it was again possible, and
|
|
followed his benefactor deeper into the tunnel. Unfortunately the masking
|
|
effect didn't last long enough. By the time they reached the end of the tunnel,
|
|
he was moving on sheer will, concentrating so hard on not stopping that it
|
|
took the other's hands against his chest to make him halt. Gratefully, he did,
|
|
wishing it was as easy to stop the pain.
|
|
|
|
He heard movement, a scraping sound, then light flared. He winced from the
|
|
sudden brightness, then made out a figure, bending to light more candles to
|
|
suffuse the small chamber with a warm glow. Finally, she turned to face him.
|
|
Her gender was obvious from her silhouette. His first impression was of
|
|
preternatural being... a dryad. Shades of brown, gold, and red mingled, hints
|
|
of green. He mentally shook himself, not generally being given to flights of
|
|
fancy, and sought more prosaic adjectives.
|
|
|
|
She was small, not over a meter and a half, and slender to the point of
|
|
thinness. The impression of earthiness was enhanced by her coloring; tawny
|
|
skin, coppery hair, a brief sarong-like skirt and vest of bark brown; a good-
|
|
sized knife at her hip gave him a moment's pause, before his eyes returned to
|
|
her face. Even trying for prosaic, she was best described in terms of Raphael,
|
|
Botticelli, or perhaps Hagalt of Risan 5; her eyes actually defied description.
|
|
Hazel was totally inadequate, though that was the word generally used for
|
|
the combination of brown, green, blue and amber. More than their color, it
|
|
was their expression which arrested... haunted, hunted, afraid, guarded,
|
|
defiant... somehow they conveyed all of that. Eyes that made one wonder
|
|
what kind of hell a person's life had been. For a moment they made him
|
|
forget his own pain; it was only physical.
|
|
|
|
She looked away, breaking the spell, and his pain returned full-force. He
|
|
drew in a ragged breath and swore, which seemed somehow to help. She was
|
|
beside him instantly, helping him down into the small chamber. As she eased
|
|
him over to the nest of mismatched cushions against one wall, it dawned on
|
|
him that this was more than the temporary refuge he had assumed it to be, it
|
|
was her home.
|
|
|
|
He noted the piecemeal furnishings, the attempts at decoration expressed by
|
|
shapes woven of dried grasses and flowers, primitive patterns and figures
|
|
painted on the walls, an intricate but worn quilt which held the only vibrant
|
|
color in the room, aside from her hair. The room had the air of having been
|
|
decorated by a magpie, or someone who was forced to live off the castoffs of
|
|
others.
|
|
|
|
His assessment was abruptly curtailed as she pushed him down onto the
|
|
cushions and unsheathed her knife. He stiffened momentarily, wary, but she
|
|
only leaned down and cut the strap which held his uniform trousers in place
|
|
under his left boot, then proceeded to carefully split the outseam on the same
|
|
side to mid-thigh. That done, she resheathed the blade, put two fingers on a
|
|
spot about three inches above his knee on the outside, then closed her eyes,
|
|
scowling slightly. The peculiar tingling sensation manifested again,
|
|
spreading upward, this time much more intense, focused. The undertone of
|
|
sensuality was decidedly more pronounced, and he shifted uncomfortably.
|
|
|
|
Immediately, she smacked his knee with her free hand and shook her head, her
|
|
meaning unmistakable. He smiled a little, but obeyed, and the new sensations
|
|
deepened, blocking the pain as they usurped the nerve-pathways that would have
|
|
carried it. Feeling oddly disassociated, he watched her open the closure on
|
|
his boot as if it were someone else's foot she held. Her fingers left his
|
|
thigh and she eased his boot off, then took his foot in one hand and his
|
|
ankle in the other. Without warning, she rotated them back into alignment.
|
|
Agony blasted through her carefully-wrought blockade, and this time there
|
|
was no fighting it; he surrendered to the rising dark.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
She withdrew, having done all she could for him. Any more would exhaust her too
|
|
completely. It had been much easier after he passed out and she no longer had
|
|
to sustain the pain-blocking as well as trying to heal, but now she felt
|
|
utterly drained. She always did after healing. For a long time she sat and
|
|
stared at him, wondering what had prompted her to aid one of Them.
|
|
Perhaps the simple fact that he had been attacked by his own kind had been
|
|
the trigger. That answer didn't satisfy. No, something had pulled her almost
|
|
bodily into the world Above, and she had felt compelled to obey. The only
|
|
time she had ignored such a compulsion, the day the Darkmind had found
|
|
her and the little-ones. The results had been disastrous. She touched her
|
|
throat, remembering. She would never again disregard such a call.
|
|
|
|
He seemed different, this one. She had not felt disdain from him, as she did
|
|
from most of Them. Why the difference? She studied the clothing he wore, and
|
|
thought it odd. Usually the Tall Ones were not so subdued in their dress,
|
|
preferring flowing robes in brilliant hues, not such austere design or muted
|
|
colors. He was a mature male, not as tall as some, though still taller than
|
|
she, and sparely built. His face was marked with lines of authority, of humor
|
|
and of stress but to her relief, she read no cruelty there, unlike another face
|
|
she recalled all too well. There was a subtle sense of... something, about him.
|
|
She couldn't put a name to it, but she remembered feeling it before, when she
|
|
was a child, from her mother's mother. She strained for a moment to identify
|
|
it, and finally it came. Power. Not of the mind, like hers, but power-over.
|
|
What the Tall Ones called authority, and confidence. He was important, this
|
|
man, if not to the Darkminds, then to some others she did not know.
|
|
|
|
Hope stirred within her, a feeble glow she had not felt in far too many years.
|
|
Perhaps this was the one she had been told to wait for. Perhaps... no. It
|
|
was better not to hope. She would restore him, and send him on his way.
|
|
Shaking off a shiver, she yawned and stretched, relieving cramped muscles, then
|
|
got up and dug through her collection of 'useful items' gleaned in her foragings
|
|
Above. After a few moments she located an object which she could use as a
|
|
splint. With some reluctance, for fabric was something she rarely found, she
|
|
tore a short length of cloth into strips and bound his ankle securely
|
|
into the metal device. She didn't want him ruining the work she had already
|
|
done. That accomplished, and knowing the consequences if she did not rest
|
|
immediately, she extinguished all but two candles and cautiously lay down as
|
|
far as possible from him to sleep.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
______________________________________________________________________________
|
|
copyright 1992, Kellie Matthews-Simmons
|
|
matthews_k@cubldr.colorado.edu//matthewk@spot.colorado.edu
|
|
all rights reserved
|
|
|
|
Standard Disclaimers Apply
|
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|
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Status: RO
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From: JULIA@Jetson.UH.EDU
|
|
To: jfy@cis.ksu.edu
|
|
Subject: (TNG) Silence, A Novel by Kellie Matthews-Simmons, Part 3
|
|
Date: Tue, 31 Aug 1993 12:42:45 -0500 (CDT)
|
|
|
|
CHAPTER THREE
|
|
|
|
Riker tapped on Picard's door. A few moments later it was opened, by the
|
|
roomservant. Riker was having a hard time adjusting to the disconcerting
|
|
sameness of them. Stepping inside, he found to his surprise that Picard was
|
|
not in the room. He turned to the servant.
|
|
|
|
"Where is Captain Picard?"
|
|
|
|
The servant shrugged.
|
|
|
|
"You don't know? When did you last see him?"
|
|
|
|
The youngster looked thoughtful, then turned and pointed through the
|
|
window at the sun, made a fist with one hand and holding his other palm flat,
|
|
lowered his fist from above his palm to below it.
|
|
|
|
Riker stared at him for a moment, without understanding. Patiently, the
|
|
servant pointed at the sun, then at his fist. This time Riker made the
|
|
connection.
|
|
|
|
"Last night?" He demanded.
|
|
|
|
The boy nodded and smiled, obviously pleased.
|
|
|
|
"He hasn't been here since last night?" he asked again, unconsciously
|
|
frowning, and raising his voice.
|
|
|
|
Once more, a nod, this time accompanied by a puzzled frown. He obviously
|
|
did not understand why Riker had asked again, since he had understood the
|
|
first time.
|
|
|
|
Riker cursed and hit his combadge with unnecessary force.
|
|
|
|
"Riker to Picard." he said firmly. Silence greeted his effort, so he tried
|
|
again.
|
|
|
|
"Riker to Picard, please respond."
|
|
|
|
He waited, the seconds lengthened into minutes without a response. He
|
|
turned back to the boy. "Did he say where he was going?"
|
|
|
|
The boy took a step backward and shook his head.
|
|
|
|
Riker took a deep breath. There was probably a perfectly reasonable
|
|
explanation for Picard's disappearance. He tapped his combadge again.
|
|
|
|
"Riker to Enterprise, please locate the Captain."
|
|
|
|
"Yes, sir."
|
|
|
|
The voice was Wesley Crusher's. Riker began to relax. A moment later
|
|
Wesley spoke, sounding puzzled.
|
|
|
|
"Sir... the Captain's combadge has been inactivated."
|
|
|
|
"Inactivated?" Riker asked incredulously. There were only two ways to
|
|
inactivate a combadge: One was to remove it, the other was to destroy it.
|
|
Since they were practically indestructible, it was unlikely to have been
|
|
destroyed, but why the hell would Picard have taken it off?
|
|
|
|
"Is there any way to locate him without it?"
|
|
|
|
There were a few seconds of silence before Wesley spoke again.
|
|
|
|
"I'm sorry, Commander, I can't track him without it, since the Halvami are
|
|
human. There aren't any differential readings to look for. If I was looking for
|
|
Data, or Worf, I could do it, but not the Captain. Is something wrong?"
|
|
|
|
"I'm not sure yet. I'll let you know. Riker out."
|
|
|
|
He thought a moment, trying to decide what to do next, and decided he
|
|
needed another opinion.
|
|
|
|
"Lieutenant Worf, report to the captain's room, immediately."
|
|
|
|
Apparently Worf sensed his unease, for only moments later, he barrelled in,
|
|
skidded to a stop, looked around the room, then at Riker.
|
|
|
|
"The Captain?" he asked.
|
|
|
|
Riker tried not to wince. "Is... missing."
|
|
|
|
"Explain."
|
|
|
|
Riker gestured to the servant, who was regarding Worf with an expression
|
|
akin to awe. "The boy said he hasn't seen him since last night. I had the
|
|
Enterprise try to locate him. Wesley said his combadge has been inactivated."
|
|
|
|
"I see." The Klingon scowled thoughtfully for a moment, then looked up.
|
|
"The Captain appeared disturbed almost since we arrived. Did he speak to
|
|
you about his concerns?"
|
|
|
|
Riker nodded. "As a matter of fact, he was disturbed about the 'servants.' He
|
|
wondered why they all appear to come from the same racial sub-group, and
|
|
why we've seen no one from that group over the age of twenty. He was
|
|
particularly disturbed by the fact that they are not allowed free
|
|
communication with us."
|
|
|
|
"Mmm." Worf said, noncommittally. He looked down at the boy, and
|
|
dropped down on his haunches, putting himself on the same level. Riker was
|
|
startled by the unconsciousness of the motion. When had Worf developed
|
|
that sort of sensitivity?
|
|
|
|
"You saw our captain leave last night. In which direction did he go?"
|
|
|
|
The boy pointed out the balcony doors to the east. Worf nodded
|
|
acknowledgement. "How many hours ago?"
|
|
|
|
After a moment's thought, the youth held up both hands, displaying three
|
|
fingers on each hand.
|
|
|
|
"Six hours? That would mean he left the room shortly after we returned from
|
|
the ceremonies."
|
|
|
|
His deduction drew a nod from the boy, and then, to Riker's astonishment,
|
|
the youngster reached out and traced a finger down the heavy ridges on
|
|
Worf's forehead. He was even more astonished that Worf allowed it. After a
|
|
moment, he stopped and put his fingers against Worf's throat. Worf growled,
|
|
and the boy grinned at him, dropped his hand to his side and bowed slightly.
|
|
|
|
As Worf straightened from his crouch, he noticed Riker's expression and
|
|
looked a trifle sheepish. "They seem to be fascinated by me, especially by my
|
|
voice. The young one who tends my room was similarly curious. They have
|
|
no fear of me at all... a fact I find odd, since they do appear to be afraid of
|
|
certain Halvami."
|
|
|
|
"Perhaps they can tell you're all bark and no bite." Riker said with a grin,
|
|
then he sobered quickly. "I'd like you to see what you can find outside, beam
|
|
down a security team if you need one. I'll contact Ser Delvekia and try to find
|
|
out what the hell is going on! And remember, we're here on a diplomatic
|
|
mission, we'll have to coordinate through Halvami Security."
|
|
|
|
Worf nodded curtly, and left the room, already in contact with the Enterprise.
|
|
Riker sat down at the ancient comunit on the desk to contact Delvekia.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Coran Delvekia paced, subtly annoyed that his pacing was undoubtedly
|
|
damaging the pile on his new carpet. Something else to blame on the
|
|
Fleeters. He still hadn't heard from Davan. He knew they must have been
|
|
successful; his recent conversation with Picard's first officer made that
|
|
obvious. So, where was Davan, with the body? He would have to produce it
|
|
soon, or that damned Klingon would start tearing the place apart looking for
|
|
their captain. Cursed nuisance, having a Klingon for a security chief. Who
|
|
ever heard of a Klingon serving aboard a Federation starship, anyway?
|
|
|
|
He realized now that he should have planned more thoroughly, kept the
|
|
Fleeters away from the Halflings altogether. He hadn't expected them to be
|
|
so perceptive... or so inquisitive. If Yggdrasil had come, as planned, there
|
|
would have been no problem. Captain Ng's mother would have made sure of
|
|
that, since she'd been the one who designed the carrier virus for the plague
|
|
that had, unfortunately, failed to remove the problem completely. He still
|
|
wasn't certain why it had failed, it should not have. It had decimated
|
|
the adults, but somehow many of the children had survived. At least they
|
|
were a convenient source of menial labor, and their silence had been
|
|
surgically ensured. He had done his best to rid the planet of the dual threat
|
|
posed by the Halflings. The simple fact that they had predated the colony
|
|
had put the colony in danger of losing its planet, and as if that weren't
|
|
enough, their metapsychic abilities had been terrifying. He remembered the
|
|
first time he'd realized that they were telepathic. He had almost let them see
|
|
his plans, but had been able to use the shield technique he'd developed as a
|
|
child in defense against his father's torments. Thinking about his father sent
|
|
a rush of adrenalin through him, tightening his stomach into a knot. He had
|
|
gotten him, finally, had paid him back for all the years of secret suffering.
|
|
And no one knew. Not even Davan.
|
|
|
|
His announcer chimed, and he rushed to open the door, expecting Davan. He
|
|
was not disappointed; his younger brother stood outside the door. One look
|
|
at the expression on his face told Coran something was wrong. Impatiently he
|
|
motioned Davan inside and closed the door.
|
|
|
|
"What is it?"
|
|
|
|
"We've lost him," Davan said tensely.
|
|
|
|
"You did what?" Coran demanded.
|
|
|
|
"We had him, easily, but he fell into that damned irrigation ditch just south
|
|
of the filtration plant. We couldn't have been more than a minute or two behind
|
|
him, but we couldn't find him."
|
|
|
|
"He transported?"
|
|
|
|
Davan shook his head. "Impossible. Our instruments would have picked up
|
|
the transporter activity. No, he simply vanished."
|
|
|
|
"Could he have been carried away by the water?"
|
|
|
|
"The canal was dry. The irrigation system is not used so early in the growing
|
|
season. There is no explanation for it at all. We searched for some time, but
|
|
we had to stop when the Fleeter security team showed up. They didn't find
|
|
him either, though they apparently found his communication device."
|
|
|
|
"I don't like it. How could he vanish? It isn't possible. He must be hiding
|
|
somewhere in the area. We cannot afford to have him reappear. Find him,
|
|
and get rid of him."
|
|
|
|
"We have tried..."
|
|
|
|
"Try harder, Davan. Our future depends on it. What about Seret?"
|
|
|
|
Some of the strain left Davan's narrow face. He smiled. "We no longer need
|
|
worry about Seret's belated attack of conscience. She will not be telling our
|
|
story to any Federation investigator."
|
|
|
|
"Good. I hope you managed that with more skill than your other
|
|
assignment."
|
|
|
|
"She was old. It will be taken as a natural death."
|
|
|
|
"It had better be."
|
|
|
|
Davan's mouth hardened into a narrow line as he nodded, then turned and
|
|
left the room. Coran swore softly, and placed a call to Jaron Kelssohn.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Picard woke, the subdued ache in his leg bringing immediate recollection of
|
|
recent events. He sighed; it would have been nice to have dreamed it. Two
|
|
candles still burned in battered metal cups on a nearby rock shelf. He
|
|
chuckled a little, it had been a good many years since he had required a
|
|
nightlight. Darkness held no terrors for him, as he had spent most of his life
|
|
surrounded by the infinite darkness of space. Still, it was a considerate
|
|
gesture.
|
|
|
|
His benefactress lay at the farthest edge of the 'nest' beneath a corner of the
|
|
quilt, deeply asleep. Her face seemed even thinner, and more shadowed than
|
|
before. Small, red-haired, olive-skinned... and about twenty-five, though it
|
|
was hard to tell, since her size made her seem young. She was certainly the
|
|
oldest of the servant-caste he had yet seen. He had managed to find exactly
|
|
what he was looking for, if in a somewhat unorthodox manner. Though he
|
|
had several hundred questions to ask, he let her sleep. She looked as though
|
|
she needed it.
|
|
|
|
He examined his ankle gingerly. She had immobilized it in a U-shaped metal
|
|
bracket which had obviously spent most of its existence inside a machine. The
|
|
short side passed under his instep, with the longer pieces extending up on
|
|
either side of his ankle. She had wrapped strips of cloth around it for padding,
|
|
crisscrossing longer strips over and around both it and his ankle, effectively
|
|
splinting it. It hurt far less than he thought it should, so-she must
|
|
have used that pain-blocking technique again. It was unusual, to say the
|
|
least, unlike anything he had ever heard of, or experienced before. With its
|
|
peculiarly sensual tone, it was also something which would take some getting
|
|
used to.
|
|
|
|
Scowling, he lay back, realizing that he was obviously not going anywhere
|
|
anytime soon. How long would it take his people to find him? He wondered
|
|
if there were a way of contacting them through the woman. Perhaps she
|
|
could be prevailed upon to try and find his combadge, though she had done
|
|
more than he could have hoped for already. He wondered who she was, and
|
|
why she chose to live as she did... or if it was a choice. Halvam was reputed
|
|
to be in good economic condition, but his brief experience on Halvam had
|
|
already told him things might not be as they were touted.
|
|
|
|
Bored, he began trying to piece together exactly what had happened and
|
|
why. Someone had known he was suspicious, and that same person did not
|
|
want him nosing around. In fact, they hadn't wanted it enough to commit the
|
|
utterly stupid mistake of trying to get rid of him. Stupid because there was
|
|
no way Starfleet would simply overlook the injury, death or disappearance of
|
|
one of its captains. How had they planned to explain it? An accident? It was
|
|
highly unlikely that any of his officers would accept that verdict. The very
|
|
fact that an attempt was made at all reinforced his suspicious.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Though it was difficult to tell time without being able to see the sun's
|
|
movement, Picard guessed an hour had passed when his hostess woke. She
|
|
sat up, stretched, rubbed her nose, and then saw him. He could tell that for a
|
|
moment she did not remember him, because her eyes went wide, and all the
|
|
color drained from her face; then apparently memory set in, for she visibly
|
|
relaxed, taking a short, deep breath. He sat up as well, and put out a hand,
|
|
palm out.
|
|
|
|
"I am Jean-Luc Picard, Captain of the Federation Starship Enterprise."
|
|
|
|
She did not answer, but she did put her fingers against his in greeting. She
|
|
did not speak. He frowned a little.
|
|
|
|
"You are...?" he prompted.
|
|
|
|
She made a sound, a breath expelled through her nostrils, and returned his
|
|
scowl. Indicating frustration he wondered? Why? He looked around,
|
|
suspecting a listening device. Lowering his voice to a whisper, he tried again.
|
|
|
|
"Can we be overheard?"
|
|
|
|
She shook her head, and looked exasperated, a universal expression if ever
|
|
there was one. She put her hand on her throat, moved it to her mouth and
|
|
shook her head. She repeated the gesture several times. For a moment, he
|
|
wondered why didn't she simply tell him whatever it was, then the light
|
|
dawned. She did not speak because she could not. She was mute. He looked
|
|
up, and found her nodding assent before he could speak. His eyes narrowed.
|
|
A telepath?
|
|
|
|
Again, she nodded, and touched her chest, her ear, then touched his forehead.
|
|
|
|
"You hear my thoughts?" he ventured.
|
|
|
|
She nodded.
|
|
|
|
"All the time, or only with effort?"
|
|
|
|
She scowled, as if concentrating.
|
|
|
|
"With effort," he translated, looking to her for confirmation. She nodded.
|
|
"Do you have a name?" he asked.
|
|
|
|
For the first time, she seemed to hesitate. After a moment, she shrugged,
|
|
tugged on one of her braids, then reached forward to take a section of his
|
|
uniform between her fingers. The fabric, where she held it, was red.
|
|
|
|
"Red?" he guessed. She nodded. "That's not a name, it's a nickname."
|
|
|
|
She spread her hands apologetically.
|
|
|
|
"Come now, you must have a name. Can you write it for me?"
|
|
|
|
Her expression could have been no less amazed if he had asked her to climb a
|
|
ladder and get him a star. She touched her chest as if to say "Who, me?"
|
|
|
|
He stared back, equally stunned. "You can't write?"
|
|
|
|
She shook her head.
|
|
|
|
"My god...," he breathed, unable to imagine what it must be like to be unable
|
|
to speak, read or write... to have so little ability to communicate would
|
|
surely drive him mad. To have no access to literature, or even basic
|
|
instructions? Appalling. She seemed intelligent, so the lack was all the more
|
|
inexplicable. As a Federation human colony, the government of Halvam was
|
|
required to provide at least basic education for its people. If she was a
|
|
representative sample, Halvam was in deep violation of its charter, and in
|
|
danger of losing its status as a senior colony. He looked at her, shook his
|
|
head.
|
|
|
|
"I'm sorry." The words fell awkwardly, inadequate.
|
|
|
|
She stared at him for a long time, as if trying to ascertain his sincerity.
|
|
Finally, she seemed satisfied, and he returned to his earlier subject.
|
|
|
|
"Do you really not have a name?"
|
|
|
|
She looked away in obvious discomfort. He thought of half a dozen names
|
|
that would suit her. Titania, Galadriel, Guinevere... with sudden
|
|
embarrassment he realized that his it was not his place to name her.
|
|
|
|
She stood suddenly, and walked over to a pile of stones against one wall.
|
|
Carefully she removed them until she uncovered something large and
|
|
rectangular, wrapped in old, ragged cloth. Carrying the object over to where
|
|
he sat, she opened the wrappings to reveal a book. Turning the pages as if
|
|
she were afraid they might break, she paged through the book. Many pages
|
|
bore brilliantly colored vignettes; men and women in ancient costume, in
|
|
various Pre-Raphaelite poses, each picture bordered by intricate interlaced
|
|
figures. There was an almost stained-glass quality to the illustrations. When
|
|
she finally stopped, and smoothed the book open with one hand, he glanced
|
|
at the title; Irish Folk Tales.
|
|
|
|
Picard wondered briefly if there was a connection between her red hair and
|
|
the Irish folktales. Was she of Irish extraction? That might explain her
|
|
coloring. The book lay open to the first page of a story, text on the left, an
|
|
illustration on the right, a woman in a green gown, red-gold hair braided in
|
|
many sections, each one threaded with green and gold ribbons. She touched
|
|
the woman in the drawing, then her lips. He looked into her extraordinary
|
|
eyes, but had to look away after only seconds. Her gaze was too
|
|
disconcerting.
|
|
|
|
"You want me to tell you her name?" he asked.
|
|
|
|
She nodded. He had no idea how he had understood her. With so little to go
|
|
on, he should not have, yet he had. Perhaps she was a projective as well as a
|
|
receptive telepath.
|
|
He read the first few lines of the story, and found the name. Just to make
|
|
certain, he scanned down the page, and confirmed it. As always with a Gaelic
|
|
word, it was anyone's guess how to say it, but he thought he had it.
|
|
|
|
"Her name is Etain." he said, pronouncing it with the second syllable accented,
|
|
a short initial vowel, and a soft 't,' lengthening the internal vowel...
|
|
'Ah-deen'.
|
|
|
|
Her eyes closed, and a slight shudder went through her. He watched her
|
|
hands clench into fists. She knew the sound, obviously.
|
|
|
|
"It is your name?" he asked softly.
|
|
|
|
She nodded, eyes still closed, then abruptly turned away, putting a shaking
|
|
hand to her face for a moment. Before he could think of anything to say, she
|
|
jumped up, vaulted onto the low shelf where the access tunnel opened, and
|
|
was gone. Minutes passed, and when she did not return he settled back and
|
|
wondered what was happening aboard the Enterprise. He was certain they
|
|
had missed him by now, where the hell were they?
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Neither the lightless passageway or the tears that blurred and stung in her
|
|
eyes hampered her. She knew the way by heart; it was not necessary to see.
|
|
Once she had gone that way daily, first to mourn, then later to remember.
|
|
Finally she had stopped going, but she still remembered the way. She rarely
|
|
forgot anything... except her own name. It had been years since she had
|
|
thought of it. She was simply herself. That was all. She had long ago ceased
|
|
to identify herself with a name. The few Tall-Ones she had contact with
|
|
called her Red, but then, they called all of her kind that, among other, less
|
|
pleasant names. Even when the one called Picard had asked, she had not
|
|
been able to remember, but she had remembered the book brought long-ago
|
|
as a gift by the Tall-Ones who had later brought death as a further gift, and
|
|
now she knew. Etain. With the memory of her own name awakened, others
|
|
came. Her mother, Briid, with her laughing gray eyes and almost golden
|
|
hair. Mhaiv, her grandmother, leader, wisewoman; her dark-haired, moody
|
|
father Isin, the twins Connal and Fahn.... every forgotten name had come
|
|
flooding back to torment her with memories best forgotten. Gone now, all
|
|
gone. Only the children, whose systems had responded more quickly to her
|
|
young and uncertain talent still remained, yet perhaps it would have been
|
|
better to let them go as well.
|
|
|
|
Her pace slowed as she grew fatigued, her lungs struggling to draw more air,
|
|
her muscles aching. It was a long way to where the dead lay quiet, waiting
|
|
for her to tell their tale. They might wait forever. Where was the bard who
|
|
could sing without a voice? They asked too much, the dead. But then, not so
|
|
much as the living. Each time she ventured above, and saw her kin where the
|
|
Darkmind kept them, she knew that somehow she must find a way to free
|
|
them, or they would be trapped forever in their childrens bodies, their
|
|
children's minds. She had avoided that fate at least; the Darkmind's knife had
|
|
robbed her of her songs, but she had escaped before they had done the other
|
|
thing to her. She grew, and aged, and learned. They did not. She felt the
|
|
changes in herself more strongly for missing it in them.
|
|
|
|
Now, though the little-ones knew her still, and loved her, and helped her
|
|
from time to time, they were incapable of more. The Darkmind held them too
|
|
firmly, and nothing she could do would change that. They would not betray
|
|
her, but for themselves they would do nothing. They feared him more than
|
|
they loved her. Nothing she could do, no memory she could stir had been
|
|
able to break that hold.
|
|
|
|
She turned a corner, and sensed a change in the air. Here it held a dry, dusty
|
|
sweetness... the scent of the dead. She was close. She slowed, and composed
|
|
herself, rubbing the traces of tears away, straightening her clothing,
|
|
smoothing her hair. She did not wish to be disrespectful. The passage
|
|
widened, now broad enough for six to walk abreast. She knew it extended
|
|
upward the same distance. She put a hand against one wall and explored the
|
|
carvings which covered it, recognizing where she stood. The entrance was
|
|
only a few steps away. She traced the lines of one deep-carved spiral inward,
|
|
calming herself, centering, then lifted her hands higher, and almost above her
|
|
reach found the smooth, cool curve she sought. With both hands against the
|
|
globe she commanded it to life. After a few moments, faintly at first, then
|
|
with growing intensity it began to glow with a pale, milky light. She sighed
|
|
with relief. She hadn't been sure she could still do it, it had been so long.
|
|
|
|
Carvings sprang into sharp clarity as she lowered her hands, turning to face
|
|
the the Mother's Gate. Walls of mahogany-colored stone arched to a point high
|
|
above her head, crowned with relief of a closed crescent. The floor beneath the
|
|
point dipped gently to a similar, though less exaggerated curve below, forming
|
|
a teardrop shape. Every surface of the gate was covered with carvings, lines
|
|
spiraling, interlacing, dizzying. It was the oldest, most sacred place she
|
|
knew. Kneeling just outside the gate's boundary she placed both hands palm-down
|
|
against the floor. Voiceless, she asked admission, waited a moment, then edged
|
|
into the gateway. A shiver coursed through her, awe. She felt Presence, vast,
|
|
unknowable. After a moment, as if some unseen hand had lifted from her back,
|
|
the feeling was gone. She touched her hand quickly to her heart in thanks and
|
|
turned to walk slowly down the incline. Even after so long, she still had
|
|
trouble with the silence. The city should be full of voices, laughter, tears,
|
|
songs, shouts, whispers, anything but silence. She passed the houses where she
|
|
had played, knowing they would never again sound with life. As she had done as
|
|
a child, she short-cut her route by sliding down the channels her ancestors had
|
|
cut to carry away the water which sometimes flooded down from Above when it
|
|
rained. The quick, breathless exhilaration which had accompanied such slides
|
|
in the past flared briefly, and drew a small smile, one which quickly faded as
|
|
she rounded the last corner and came to the standing stones arrayed in the
|
|
center of the vast cave. She shuddered, memory overwhelming her for a moment,
|
|
then took a quick, deep breath and stepped closer to the center stone. What
|
|
remained of Mhaiv's physical being made a very little shape under the cloth
|
|
which covered her. Etain sat down, her back against the stone, and bent her
|
|
head, saying in her mind what she longed to say aloud.
|
|
|
|
__Grandmother... I need you. Is it right to aid one of them, after what they
|
|
have done to us?__
|
|
|
|
She waited. Time passed. Gradually a pervasive calm came over her, and
|
|
with it a surety. She smiled. She had her answer. She had chosen the right
|
|
path. Her stomach growled, and she stood up, brushing the fine sand from
|
|
her skirt. Time to go above, and find food. Food for herself, and for her
|
|
guest. She scowled. That meant a visit one of the kitchens Above, one where
|
|
her kin worked. Normally she scavenged her food, but while one might do it
|
|
for oneself, one did not offer a guest a meal garnered from another's leavings.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
One of the tunnels exited near a place of disused machines not far from the
|
|
dormitory which housed her remaining Kin. She had left one of the blue-gray
|
|
smocks her Kin wore there for just such occasions. Distastefully she stripped
|
|
off her skirt and vest and pulled the ugly thing over her head, then put her
|
|
hair up, securing it with a small, pointed stick, so that it more closely
|
|
resembled the others' short-cropped hair. Though it was ugly, the smock's
|
|
looseness also helped disguise her more mature figure. Finally, she picked up
|
|
a knotted string bag from the floor and slung it over her shoulder. That done,
|
|
Etain crouched in the passage behind the screen-stone and opened her mind,
|
|
searching for threat. She sensed no one near, and, reassured, pushed aside
|
|
the stone and crawled out.
|
|
|
|
It was still night. She was glad. Going Above in daylight was hazardous.
|
|
She glanced west and saw the first pale hint of dawn creeping along the
|
|
horizon. It was night, but just barely. She would have to hurry. Quickly she
|
|
crossed the graveled path which led to the front of the building, wincing as
|
|
the jagged stones hurt her feet, and was glad when she reached the cool
|
|
smoothness of the grass. The Kin were near, she could feel them, sleeping, so
|
|
close, yet beyond her reach forever. Angrily she rubbed her stinging nose,
|
|
leaned against the wall and called to them.
|
|
|
|
__Ndon, are you there?__
|
|
|
|
Startled, sleepy thoughts were her only answer for a little while, then finally,
|
|
Ndon responded.
|
|
|
|
__We are here. You should go, it is not safe!__
|
|
|
|
__I know, but I need food. Can you help?__
|
|
|
|
There was a long pause, then finally, a different personality replied. __I will
|
|
open the door, but no more.__
|
|
|
|
She knew that one, Saren, the soft-hearted. Though Ndon was oldest, Saren
|
|
was the one who remembered her best. Yet even he had paused before
|
|
agreeing. She was close to losing them completely now, the Darkmind had
|
|
made them forget. She put her forehead against the cold rough stone and
|
|
concentrated on the physical discomfort so that she could ignore the mental
|
|
pain. Finally she won back her control.
|
|
|
|
__Thank you Saren, it is enough. I will meet you there.__
|
|
|
|
__No! Wait until I have gone. If they catch me with you, I will be
|
|
punished.__
|
|
|
|
Once Saren would not have cared. He would have risked the punishment to
|
|
spend a few moments with her. The lump in her throat grew unbearable.
|
|
|
|
__I will wait.__
|
|
|
|
She sensed Saren's surreptitious movements as he slipped to the kitchen door
|
|
and unlocked it. Deliberately she waited until she felt his relief and knew he
|
|
was safe back in his bed. Only then did she sneak around to the rear of the
|
|
building to find the open door.
|
|
|
|
It was warm inside the building, and she needed no guide to find the kitchens.
|
|
The way was familiar, and even if it had not been, she would have been able to
|
|
find it by scent alone. She could smell the grains, the fruits and
|
|
vegetables which were stored there. Even though they were kept in sealed
|
|
containers, their scents managed to escape. Her mouth began to water. How
|
|
long had it been since she had last eaten? She was so used to being hungry
|
|
that she sometimes forgot what it was like not to be. This time it had been
|
|
longer than some times, not as long as others. She could also smell the sharp,
|
|
acrid scent of her own fear. Coming here was not safe.
|
|
|
|
Quietly she padded down the short hall which opened onto the kitchen. A
|
|
bowl on one of the wide counters held a dozen apples; she chose two and
|
|
slipped them into her bag. Securing the bag, she boosted herself onto the
|
|
counter and opened the cupboards which would otherwise have been above
|
|
her head. The strong yeasty-nutty aroma of bread washed out, and she
|
|
reached in, then hesitated for a moment. There were fewer loaves than usual,
|
|
only six sat on the shelf. She wanted to take two, as she was feeding an extra
|
|
person, but was sure that would be noticed. From past experience she knew
|
|
that if her theft was too obvious, the blame would be placed on one of the
|
|
little ones. Regretfully she chose the largest of those available, added it to
|
|
her collection and closed the door.
|
|
|
|
Sliding off the counter, she went to the large cold place where the vegetables
|
|
were kept and gathered a few of several different varieties. She glanced at the
|
|
second cold place, the one where they stored meats, and gazed at it wistfully.
|
|
Unfortunately she had no way to cook, so she had to pass it by. What she had
|
|
would have to do. With a sigh she turned to go, and her breath caught in her
|
|
throat as she saw someone standing in the doorway watching her. The sense
|
|
of relief that flooded her when she realized it was only Diertra was almost
|
|
enough to buckle her knees. She had thought she was caught.
|
|
|
|
__Diertra, what are you doing here!__
|
|
|
|
The young girl looked down. __I'm sorry. I sensed you were here, and
|
|
wanted to see you. It's been so long...__
|
|
|
|
Immediately Etain felt ashamed of her reaction. It was her own fear that
|
|
prompted her harshness. She knelt and held out her arms. __No Diertra, I
|
|
am the one who should be sorry, I was just startled. Come here."
|
|
|
|
Diertra needed no further urging and Etain put her arms around her, ruffling
|
|
her dark chesnut hair affectionately. It felt strange to hold her, she was so
|
|
small still. As if echoing her own thoughts, Diertra looked up.
|
|
|
|
__You are bigger than I remember.__
|
|
|
|
__I know. I always am.__ She refrained from telling Diertra why. She had
|
|
long ago learned that reminding the little-ones that they should be as she was
|
|
only upset them. __Are you well, little sister?__
|
|
|
|
Diertra nodded, and put a hand up to touch Etain's hair. __Did you cut it?__
|
|
she asked anxiously.
|
|
|
|
__No, I put it up so I would look more like you.__
|
|
|
|
__Oh.__ Diertra frowned. __Why would you want to look like me?__
|
|
|
|
Etain felt as if someone were squeezing her throat. Yet another lie, on top of
|
|
all the others. But what else to do? __Because you are the prettiest girl I
|
|
know.__
|
|
|
|
Diertra grinned, the expression a quick flash of the boisterous child she had
|
|
once been, but all too soon she sobered. __You should go. He will catch
|
|
you.__
|
|
|
|
__No he won't. I'm too fast for him. But you are right. I should go.__
|
|
|
|
__I wish you could stay.__
|
|
|
|
Etain clenched her teeth against the urge to cry, and shook her head. __I
|
|
cannot. But you could come with me!__
|
|
|
|
Diertra became very still, like a digger caught in the light. Etain could feel
|
|
her fear like a live thing. She touched Diertra's hair once more. __No, I
|
|
know, you cannot do that any more than I can stay. I love you Diertra.__
|
|
|
|
__I love you too.__
|
|
|
|
Etain's vision blurred. __Diertra... please, remember me.__
|
|
|
|
Diertra nodded, her gray eyes wide, puzzled. She didn't understand the
|
|
reason for Etain's request. Etain knew she would forget. All the others had.
|
|
Goddess, it hurt! She leaned down and quickly kissed the Diertra's forehead,
|
|
then stood.
|
|
|
|
__Goodbye little-one.__
|
|
|
|
__Goodbye.__
|
|
|
|
She kept her pace to a walk until she had exited the building. After a cursory
|
|
glance to be sure no one was in sight, she broke into a trot, and finally ran,
|
|
tears streaming down her face, not caring that the stones hurt her feet when
|
|
she came to them. She made her way through the maze-like rows of
|
|
machines, and skinned her knees crawling into the tunnel too quickly. She
|
|
tore off the gray smock, threw it down and ground it savagely into the dirt,
|
|
wishing that the action would do some real damage to the virtually
|
|
indestructable fabric.
|
|
|
|
Abruptly she sat down, hugging her knees, the rage draining away, leaving
|
|
only despair. She was so helpless, so powerless. She hated the way she felt
|
|
when she went there, and she resented the fact that because of Picard she had
|
|
been forced to endure it again. Most of the time she managed to push her
|
|
insignificance to some dark corner of her mind where it did not bother her.
|
|
She sighed. What good did it do to feel sorry for herself? She picked up her
|
|
vest and shrugged into it, wrapped and tied her skirt securely then
|
|
shouldered the bag of provisions and headed back toward her nest.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
______________________________________________________________________________
|
|
copyright 1992, Kellie Matthews-Simmons
|
|
matthews_k@cubldr.colorado.edu//matthewk@spot.colorado.edu
|
|
all rights reserved
|
|
|
|
Standard Disclaimers Apply
|
|
|
|
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From: JULIA@Jetson.UH.EDU
|
|
To: jfy@cis.ksu.edu
|
|
Subject: (TNG) Silence, A Novel by Kellie Matthews-Simmons, Part 4
|
|
Date: Tue, 31 Aug 1993 12:43:17 -0500 (CDT)
|
|
|
|
CHAPTER FOUR
|
|
|
|
Riker sat in Picard's ready-room, in one of the conference-table chairs. Some
|
|
sort of vague, superstitious prejudice had kept him out of the Captain's chair.
|
|
It was one thing to occupy the conn on the bridge, but it felt almost
|
|
sacrilegious to consider taking Picard's place here in his sanctuary. He had
|
|
done it once before, all too recently, and he thought he had dealt with these
|
|
feelings then. Now he knew better. Deliberately steering his thoughts to less
|
|
troublesome topics, he mentally replayed his conversation with Ser Delvekia for
|
|
the fifteenth time at least, trying to put his finger on what it was that made
|
|
him suspect the man was lying. Perhaps it had been the smoothness of his
|
|
surprise when told of the Picard's disappearance. Perhaps the oily, almost
|
|
obsequious tone of his apology, and the transparency of his explanation.
|
|
Anti-Federation terrorists? An amazingly convienient bunch of them, it
|
|
seemed, as Data had checked planetary news records for previous reports of
|
|
anti-Federation factions. There weren't any. Apparently these terrorists had
|
|
conveniently appeared just in time to do something with the Captain. None
|
|
of it added up.
|
|
|
|
He slammed a hand down on the table in frustration. Where was Deanna
|
|
when he needed her? Off at Starbase 204, telling a class of candidates what it
|
|
was like to be a Ship's Counselor, instead where she belonged, on the ship
|
|
being the Counselor! Her empathic abilities would be invaluable right about
|
|
now. If nothing else, her inner calm had a way of centering him, sharpening
|
|
his focus. He wondered if she affected Picard the same way, or if it was his
|
|
own previous relationship with her that produced that effect. The comsignal
|
|
sounded.
|
|
|
|
"Commander Riker?"
|
|
|
|
He sighed, recognizing the voice. "Come."
|
|
|
|
The doors slid open and Worf stepped inside. His eyes went from the
|
|
Captain's chair to Riker's position, and he seemed to nod slightly.
|
|
|
|
"Your report?"
|
|
|
|
"We found this." He extended his hand. Against the darkness of his skin, the
|
|
silver and gold metal seemed oddly bright. Riker took the combadge and set
|
|
it on the table.
|
|
|
|
"Nothing else?"
|
|
|
|
"There were indications of an altercation where we found this, but the heavy
|
|
concentrations of sensor-opaque materials in Halvam's soil make it difficult to
|
|
obtain accurate sensor readings. From visual signs, I would say a group of
|
|
five unknowns attacked the Captain, though how he came to be there is still
|
|
unknown. The signs disappear at the edge of a small ditch, apparently a
|
|
drainage canal. The lack of a trail leading away from the site indicates that
|
|
the group transported out following the confrontation."
|
|
|
|
"So for now we must assume that the Captain is being held hostage by this so-
|
|
called terrorist group, as Ser Delvekia said."
|
|
|
|
"That is our only option at the moment. I am working on others. Ship's
|
|
sensors are focused on the area where we found the combadge, but we are
|
|
experiencing massive signal bounceback from sensor-opaque materials.
|
|
Lieutenant LaForge is working on cleaning up the signal. Apparently his
|
|
VISOR does not have as much trouble with sensor-opacity, so he is
|
|
attempting to patch a similar system into the sensor controls."
|
|
|
|
Riker had a sudden vision of a giant VISOR sitting atop the saucer section and
|
|
ruthlessly controlled a chuckle. It was neither the time or the place for
|
|
humor. "Thank you, Lieutenant. Keep me posted."
|
|
|
|
Worf nodded, and then he straightened and locked his hands behind his back
|
|
in a posture Riker recognised as his 'I want to ask something Klingon' mode.
|
|
|
|
"Is there something else, Lieutenant?"
|
|
|
|
"Sir, I request permission to return to Halvam, to the site where we recovered
|
|
the Captain's combadge."
|
|
|
|
"For what reason?"
|
|
|
|
"To keep Dakhar."
|
|
|
|
Riker's eyebrows lifted. The Dakhar. A sort of Klingon vigil. It was also
|
|
referred to as "finding a pathway where none exists". It involved fasting, and,
|
|
as did most Klingon rituals, a degree of physical discomfort. It was in some
|
|
ways similar to a shamanistic vision-quest. He cleared his throat.
|
|
|
|
"Ah... yes. I see. Do you feel it would be useful?"
|
|
|
|
"If I did not, I would not request it."
|
|
|
|
"It might be to our advantage to have you there, keeping an eye on things.
|
|
You have my permission... but remember one thing. I do not feel that you
|
|
have been lax, nor would the Captain, I am sure. You have no cause to keep
|
|
Dakhar other than your own desire to do so."
|
|
|
|
Worf scowled. "Commander, I have been negligent. If I had not, the Captain
|
|
would not have been taken."
|
|
|
|
"I disagree. Captain Picard did not alert you to his plans, therefore you are
|
|
not responsible for his disappearence. N'kha."
|
|
|
|
Worf bridled at Riker's use of the word which, politely translated, meant 'you
|
|
may not say more.' Accurately translated it meant 'shut up and don't argue,'
|
|
but he did as he was told. With an abrupt nod, he turned to leave the room,
|
|
and Riker stopped him.
|
|
|
|
"Lieutenant Worf, communications are to be coded... no, on second thought,
|
|
that would alert them to our suspicions. Don't use code, but make any
|
|
transmissions as... cryptic as possible."
|
|
|
|
"I understand."
|
|
|
|
Worf left, and Riker returned to his previous occupation, feeling singularly
|
|
helpless. Not a feeling he was accustomed to. Not a feeling he enjoyed at all.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
A sound in the access tunnel caused Picard to tense. He pulled the quilt
|
|
partially over himself so that he could see, but not readily be seen. A moment
|
|
later Etain appeared in the opening. She dropped into the room, and stood
|
|
for a moment, staring down at an object she held in her hands, then, slowly,
|
|
she walked to the single chair and sat down, still staring at the object. He
|
|
squinted, trying to make out what it was. It looked like a small cloth bag.
|
|
|
|
His guess was confirmed when she opened it, and dumped several objects
|
|
haphazardly onto the floor. She stared at them the same way she had stared at
|
|
the bag. It was strange, she just gazing blankly. Suddenly she curled in on
|
|
herself, drawing up her knees, wrapping her arms around them and putting her
|
|
head on her arms. It wasn't until then, seeing the reflection of light off the
|
|
moisture on her face, that he realized she was crying. He stared at the
|
|
objects himself, one was larger than the others, brown, and rounded; two were
|
|
reddish, also round, but more globular, several long, leafy green and orange
|
|
things. A still life of bread, fruit and vegetables. Not exactly subjects to
|
|
weep over.
|
|
|
|
Several moments passed, then she sniffed, rubbed her face with her hands,
|
|
took a deep breath and leaned over to pick up the food from where she had
|
|
dropped it, dusting each piece off carefully as she replaced it on the table.
|
|
Suddenly, as if just remembering his presence, she turned toward him. When
|
|
she realized he had been watching her, a flush dark enough to see even in the
|
|
dimness flooded her face. After a moment she shook her head again, this
|
|
time looking resigned. With an audible sigh, she turned away, picked up one
|
|
of the apples and threw it to him.
|
|
|
|
Startled, he still managed to catch it as she picked up the other one and bit
|
|
into it. He watched her, remembering her earlier reaction to it, and wondered
|
|
why the sudden change of attitude. Without thinking about it, he asked.
|
|
|
|
"Why did the food upset you?"
|
|
|
|
She spun to face him, her eyes seeking his. She looked down at the fruit and
|
|
once again a dark flush colored her face. She put the apple down, looked at
|
|
him with an expression that was angry and hurt, almost accusatory, then she
|
|
turned away again, deliberately, and sat down with her back to him. He
|
|
scowled, baffled by her reaction. What would account for her response, both
|
|
then, and now? So far he seemed to have done quite well in interpreting her
|
|
gestures, but without her willingness to communicate, he might never find out.
|
|
Giving up, he bit into his apple, letting its cool, sweet-sour taste distract
|
|
him from her silence. He was surprisingly hungry, which made him wonder
|
|
exactly how long he had been below ground. He had no way to tell if it had
|
|
been hours or days. How long had he been unconscious? How long was he
|
|
going to have to stay? His thoughts turned to how he was going to keep
|
|
himself from going mad with boredom while waiting for his crew to track
|
|
him down. No conversation, and worse, no books.
|
|
|
|
He remembered suddenly that he did have at least one book. The one she
|
|
had shown him earlier. He reached down beside the cushions where he had placed
|
|
it, picked it up and opened it to the title page. It was a limited edition,
|
|
from an obscure press, and almost forty years old: a collector's dream. It was
|
|
exquisite, printed on sealed paper, in a twentieth-century roman typeface. He
|
|
wondered how she had come by it. It seemed odd that someone who could
|
|
not read would possess, and obviously treasure, a book. He turned to the
|
|
first page and began to read.
|
|
|
|
After a little while he became aware that she was watching him. He looked
|
|
up, in time to catch the brief instant of loss, pain and raw longing in her
|
|
expression before she masked it, looking away as if she did not care. He
|
|
looked from the book, to her, and as clearly as if she had spoken he knew that
|
|
although she could not read, someone once had read to her. Someone she
|
|
had cared about, and missed. Probably a parent, he guessed. It made sense,
|
|
especially as she had been named for a character in the book. He found
|
|
himself feeling strangely guilty for his ability to read. It was, however, an
|
|
ability he could share.
|
|
|
|
"Etain?"
|
|
|
|
She jumped, obviously startled, and turned to stare at him. No doubt the
|
|
sound of a voice in this place seemed strange to her.
|
|
|
|
"Would you like me to read to you?" he asked.
|
|
|
|
She eyed him suspiciously, her gaze going from his face, to the book, and
|
|
back several times before she finally nodded, a quick, jerky, barely-there nod.
|
|
|
|
Wondering why she was so suspicious of him, Picard turned back to the
|
|
beginning of the story and began to read, somewhat awkwardly at first. It
|
|
was a very different thing to read for someone else's enjoyment rather than
|
|
one's own but before long, the words took on a life of their own. Soon Etain
|
|
had moved from her position across the room to one near enough for her to
|
|
see both him and the book, and she listened with a disturbing intensity. He
|
|
tried to hold the book flat so that she could see the pages from where she sat,
|
|
since she would not come within arms' reach.
|
|
|
|
He read until his voice began to grow hoarse. He realized he was thirsty, and
|
|
at the same time began to be uncomfortably aware of certain other, more
|
|
prosaic, bodily needs. Generally the availability of sanitary facilities was a
|
|
given, but he had seen nothing to indicate the presence of such a thing here,
|
|
not even a chamber-pot. He glanced over at Etain and found her grinning at
|
|
him. He was so surprised by her smile that he momentarily forgot he was
|
|
thirsty and uncomfortable, and simply stared at her. Then it occurred to him
|
|
to wonder what she was grinning about. Seconds after that, he remembered
|
|
she was a telepath. He found himself grinning back.
|
|
|
|
"Well, are you going to keep me in suspense?" he asked.
|
|
|
|
Still smiling, she shook her head and flowed to her feet from the cross-legged
|
|
position she had assumed for listening. She had that same oddly effortless
|
|
grace he had seen in others of her kind. Oddly, he caught himself thinking of
|
|
her as not entirely human. She extended her hands down toward him and
|
|
helped him to his feet, then took most of his weight on herself as she
|
|
awkwardly maneuvered him across the small space to a spot by the wall.
|
|
The wall? He wondered exactly what it was he was supposed to do with the
|
|
wall?
|
|
|
|
She tapped his wrist to get his full attention, then reached out and pointed to
|
|
one of the painted hand-prints which adorned the surface there. It seemed a
|
|
slightly different color than the rest. Steadying him carefully, she placed
|
|
her hand against it and pushed. With a slight scraping sound, the solid rock
|
|
seemed to give way. It was a door, set in stone, and carefully
|
|
counterweighted to swing easily. Without knowing it was there, he would
|
|
probably never have found it. The small chamber rather resembled a
|
|
medieval garderobe. Puzzled, he studied the room. A shallow basin had
|
|
been hollowed from the living stone, water from some unknown source
|
|
above flowed into it along a masoned groove. The overflow from the basin
|
|
was channelled along a similar groove which carried it into what was
|
|
unmistakably what he had been looking for, from whence it no doubt carried
|
|
wastes away into some distant receptacle.
|
|
|
|
It was simple, elegant, and utterly bizarre. Who would go to such trouble,
|
|
carving native stone and coaxing groundwater to do the job an ordinary
|
|
disposal chamber could do with far less work and expense? Some anti-
|
|
technology sort? He stared at the workmanship, and ran his fingers along the
|
|
edge of the upper groove, noticing how smooth the flow of water had worn
|
|
the stone. It took time for that to occur. Too much time. Would a hundred
|
|
years be sufficient? Halvam had been colonized only a little over that. Then
|
|
he recalled his thought of a moment earlier, that she was not entirely human.
|
|
With a sinking certainty he began to wonder if he was dealing with
|
|
something far worse than simple discrimination.
|
|
|
|
"Etain... you, your people, how long have you been here? On this world, I
|
|
mean?"
|
|
|
|
She shrugged, then pointed meaningfully at the garderobe, turned and left
|
|
him alone. He cursed softly at the communication difficulty and hopped
|
|
awkwardly over to the basin to scoop up a drink in cupped palms. His ankle
|
|
had begun to throb within its bindings.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
When he had finished, he called her back and she helped him return to his
|
|
place in the cushions, then picked up the book and held it out to him, her
|
|
desire obvious. He shook his head.
|
|
|
|
"Not just yet, Etain. I need to ask you some questions... I will try to phrase
|
|
them in such a way you can easily answer."
|
|
|
|
Her face fell, disappointment obvious, her expression a classic pout. He
|
|
chuckled.
|
|
|
|
"I promise you, more later. Now, were your people here before the... before
|
|
our colonists arrived?"
|
|
|
|
She looked puzzled, then held one hand a good distance above her head.
|
|
|
|
"I'm sorry, I don't understand."
|
|
|
|
She huffed and rolled her eyes in frustration, then reached forward to tap him
|
|
on the chest, and once more hold her hand above her head. Obviously she
|
|
was having difficulty with the question. But with which part? He reviewed
|
|
his words, matched them with her actions. There was only one difficult
|
|
word, but he couldn't associate her actions with it.
|
|
|
|
"You don't know the word 'colonist'?" he ventured.
|
|
|
|
She nodded. He sighed. This was going to be a lot of work. He understood
|
|
why she had tapped him, she was identifying him with the colonists, but why
|
|
was she holding her hand over her head?
|
|
|
|
She stood up, pointed at herself and put her hand on top of her head. Then
|
|
she pointed at him, and raised her hand about eight inches.
|
|
|
|
He understood, finally. "Of course, they're all taller than you are, aren't
|
|
they? Yes. That is exactly who I meant by colonists. Were your people here
|
|
before they came?"
|
|
|
|
She nodded. Even though he had been half-expecting that answer, Picard still
|
|
felt as if someone had punched him in the stomach.
|
|
|
|
"My god..." he breathed. "A preexisting native population, and they're using
|
|
them for slave labor! How the hell did this world get certified for
|
|
colonization with extant sentient inhabitants?"
|
|
|
|
He looked up to find her frowning at him obviously trying to make sense of
|
|
his words. He shook his head.
|
|
|
|
"Sorry. I was talking to myself. A bad habit. So, your species is telepathic
|
|
rather than verbal..." he broke off, realized he was speaking above her head
|
|
and rephrased the questions. "I mean, you use thoughts to communicate
|
|
rather than words?"
|
|
|
|
She shook her head slowly, her hand going to her throat in a oddly protective
|
|
gesture. The hunted look he had seen on her face that first moment returned
|
|
for a fleeting second.
|
|
|
|
"You do use words?" he asked, puzzled.
|
|
|
|
She nodded.
|
|
|
|
"Then why don't you, any of you, speak?"
|
|
|
|
For answer she reached down and unsheathed her knife, mimed drawing its edge
|
|
down her throat, then made a pulling-out-throwing-away gesture. With her knife
|
|
still in her hand, she pointed up, and made the sign for the colonists once
|
|
more.
|
|
|
|
He had no difficulty translating what she had just told him. The colonists had
|
|
deliberately deprived them of the ability to speak. A cold rage flared in him,
|
|
and he instinctively started to his feet to take action... any kind of action.
|
|
Pain forced him back down with a startled gasp. He had forgotten about his
|
|
ankle.
|
|
|
|
She was beside him instantly, her left hand on his ankle, the other above his
|
|
knee, like before. Remembering what she had done then, Picard grabbed her
|
|
right hand and lifted it away before she could begin. She looked up at him,
|
|
startled and confused. Her 'why not?' came through clearly.
|
|
|
|
"Do you know what sort of sensation you engender when you do that?"
|
|
|
|
Wide eyed, she shook her head.
|
|
|
|
With a sigh, he let go of her wrist.
|
|
|
|
"Never mind, then. Just suffice it to say I would rather you didn't do that."
|
|
|
|
Etain shrugged, and turned her attention back to his ankle, slipping the
|
|
fingers of her left hand beneath the bandages but holding her other hand
|
|
away from his knee. The ache in his ankle began to intensify, growing past
|
|
easily bearable into real torment. She was barely touching him, but somehow
|
|
he knew that she was doing something which increased the pain.
|
|
|
|
"What are you doing?" he managed to grit out from between clenched teeth.
|
|
|
|
She glanced up at him, her free hand hovering above his knee as she lifted her
|
|
eyebrows in question.
|
|
|
|
"I know, you can't answer that. Is this in retaliation for my not reading
|
|
more?"
|
|
|
|
The pain eased abruptly as she lifted her hand, her eyes met his, her
|
|
expression wounded.
|
|
|
|
"Etain, it was a joke," he explained gently, "...but I don't understand what
|
|
you're doing, or why."
|
|
|
|
She reached up and touched her fingers to his face, two just above his nose,
|
|
two on his cheek, her thumb against his jaw, then closed her eyes and
|
|
scowled fiercely. With a shock he recognized the configuration as the one
|
|
used by Vulcans in the mind-meld. It took only a moment, but suddenly he
|
|
knew. Without words, she told him. She was healing him, or trying to. He
|
|
understood finally that the pain had increased due to the acceleration of the
|
|
normal healing process, just as it did with the mechanical regenerator units
|
|
the Federation used. Her pain-block took the place of the endorphin booster
|
|
the regen unit used. Not a common ability among humans. Of course, no
|
|
matter how human she looked, he had to remember he was dealing with a new
|
|
species here. Her fingers left his face and she sat back. He stared at her,
|
|
shaking his head.
|
|
|
|
"Why would you do that for me? After what my kind has done?" he asked
|
|
quietly.
|
|
|
|
She shrugged, with the embarrassed expression common to those who cannot
|
|
explain their motives to themselves, let alone to someone else.
|
|
|
|
"Whatever the reason, I thank you, and I cannot apologize enough for the
|
|
barbarity of my fellow humans. You may rest assured, if... no, when, I get
|
|
back to my ship I will make certain that the situation does not remain as it
|
|
is."
|
|
|
|
She stared at him for so long that he began to wonder what he'd done or said
|
|
wrong. Finally, with careful gravity, she reached out and took his hand,
|
|
holding it in hers palm-up; touched it briefly to her forehead, then her chest,
|
|
then put his palm against hers before letting it go. Recognizing a ritual of
|
|
some sort, he allowed his hand to rest against hers for a moment before he
|
|
lowered it.
|
|
|
|
He didn't want to offend her, but it was risky to participate in a ritual he
|
|
didn't completely understand. With more than a bit of trepidation, he hoped
|
|
he hadn't just managed to get engaged. He recalled a similar ritual from
|
|
Earth's past, an oath pledging head, heart, and hand in service to another, a
|
|
kind of fealty. Hopefully that was Etain's intent. Even that was more than he
|
|
should accept.
|
|
|
|
"You honor me, but I cannot accept a pledge given without full
|
|
understanding. I mean no insult, but am bound by my own codes."
|
|
|
|
She nodded understanding, and did not seem offended. She reached for his
|
|
ankle, and her right hand headed for his knee. Once more he stopped her.
|
|
|
|
"No, Etain. I can manage without that."
|
|
|
|
She frowned, obviously perplexed by his refusal. He couldn't come up with a
|
|
way to explain it that wasn't embarrassing, or that she would understand.
|
|
She obviously had no idea what her pain-block did to an adult male. Another
|
|
gap in her eduction, one he had no intention of remedying.
|
|
|
|
"Please, I'd rather try to get through it without your pain-block. It has an...
|
|
uncomfortable effect on me."
|
|
|
|
She sighed and shrugged. He could tell that she was thinking something
|
|
along the lines of 'if he wants to be stupid, let him.' It was remarkable how
|
|
well she managed to communicate considering her disability.
|
|
|
|
She bent over his ankle and slid her fingers beneath the bindings again. He
|
|
set his jaw, and waited. She worked in stages, a scowl of fierce concentration
|
|
on her face. Each time she stopped she seemed to lose something, to become
|
|
somehow smaller, less vibrant. He began to realize, belatedly, that healing
|
|
was not something she accomplished without cost.
|
|
|
|
After the third time, when she would have begun again, he reached down
|
|
and put his hands over hers, drawing them away. She lifted her head,
|
|
swaying, and stared at him with a puzzled, half-drunken expression, blinking
|
|
owlishly.
|
|
|
|
"Stop now, there's no need for you to continue at your own expense. My
|
|
people will find me soon, and they will take care of this. Do you understand?"
|
|
|
|
She nodded, closed her eyes, and started to slide sideways. Startled, Picard
|
|
caught her before she hit the floor and eased her down onto the cushions
|
|
instead. He studied her for a moment, concerned, but her deep, even
|
|
breathing reassured him. It seemed she was simply exhausted. He frowned,
|
|
realizing that her state was due to what she had done for him. Had he
|
|
realized earlier what it was costing her, he would not have allowed her to
|
|
continue. He would never have allowed a crewmember to be put in physical
|
|
jeopardy, and she wasn't even that. Also, he didn't like being indebted, to
|
|
anyone. But then, he was already in her debt, so what mattered one more
|
|
thing? He sighed, and studied her again. Although she was so thin he could
|
|
practically see where the bones lay beneath her skin, she seemed healthy
|
|
enough, not having the dry, brittle hair or dull skin of the chronically
|
|
malnourished.
|
|
|
|
Despite her apparent health, he didn't think her thinness was natural to her.
|
|
The others of her kind had been nowhere near as slight, though they had been
|
|
small and delicately built. He wished he had a better word for them; calling
|
|
them 'servants' only perpetuated an image he wanted to destroy. After a
|
|
moment's deliberation, he decided to refer to them as natives. It felt more
|
|
appropriate, if they truly had predated the colonists. At this point, he had
|
|
no reason to believe they had not; it explained too much.
|
|
|
|
God... he had so many questions! Where were all the adults? Where were their
|
|
cities... what level of technology had they possessed, prior to the human
|
|
colonization of Halvam? If Etain's chamber was any indication, they must have
|
|
still been fairly primitive. Knowing that the level of a civilization could
|
|
often be judged by its weapons, he cautiously reached down and slid her
|
|
knife from its sheath. She didn't stir. He examined the dagger carefully, not
|
|
touching the blade with his fingers to keep the oils in his skin from damaging
|
|
it, and whistled softly.
|
|
|
|
It was bronze, leaf-bladed, inlaid with a repeating spiral pattern in silver
|
|
down its spine. The hilt was bound in braided silver wire, whose
|
|
irregularities indicated it had been extruded by hand. Faint, crescent-shaped
|
|
dents in the blade were probably the hammer-marks left from its forging.
|
|
Halvam's native culture had obviously been equivalent to bronze-age. How
|
|
had they been missed? Perhaps they had not. Not every explorer, or colonist
|
|
had the kind of integrity necessary to pass up a nearly perfect planet just
|
|
because it had one slight flaw... sentient inhabitants. It had been over a
|
|
hundred years since Halvam's colonization. By now, the native culture had
|
|
without doubt been irreparably damaged, if not altogether destroyed. Absently
|
|
he tested the blade against his thumb and hissed in surprise as it bit.
|
|
The damned thing was razor sharp! He knew bronze didn't hold an edge
|
|
well, so she must sharpen it frequently.
|
|
|
|
Etain stirred, opened her eyes and looked at her hand, a puzzled frown
|
|
creasing her forehead as she poked a finger at the ball of her thumb. After a
|
|
moment she looked up at him, eyelids drooping sleepily. He realized she had
|
|
been woken by his pain... as if she felt it herself. How did one survive with
|
|
that degree of empathy? If it were him, he would probably be completely
|
|
mad. Shaking his head, he showed her the slight crease where he had cut
|
|
himself.
|
|
|
|
"It's all right, it's just a scratch. Go back to sleep."
|
|
|
|
She stared at his thumb, her frown deepening, pushed herself up on one
|
|
elbow and reached out to touch the tip of her index finger to the slight
|
|
welling of red along the cut. Drawing her hand back, she studied his blood
|
|
intently for several moments. She sniffed it, then, oddly, touched it to her
|
|
tongue. He watched her, as puzzled by her actions as she obviously was by
|
|
his blood. Had she never seen blood before? It seemed impossible, for
|
|
someone with such extraordinary healing ability.
|
|
|
|
Slowly, she sat up, still staring at him. After a moment, she pointed at her
|
|
dagger and put her hand out. He gave it back to her, hilt first, so she
|
|
wouldn't think he might be attacking. She took it, looked down at her hand,
|
|
and before he could stop her, had nicked her own finger, then held her injury
|
|
next to his. Her blood was much darker than the bright crimson of his,
|
|
almost mahogany-colored. He understood immediately. She was comparing.
|
|
Until now she hadn't realized they were two different species. He could see
|
|
the knowledge come to her, lighting her face. She pointed at him, then at
|
|
herself, put her palms together, then abruptly separated them. He didn't
|
|
need to interpret, he knew exactly what she was asking. His estimation of her
|
|
intelligence rose. Having never been exposed to the idea of other sentient
|
|
species, she was bright enough to theorize it on her own.
|
|
|
|
"Yes. Exactly. We're not the same kind of being. In some ways, similar, yes,
|
|
but not the same. My people are not native to this world. Yours probably
|
|
are."
|
|
|
|
Etain nodded slowly, sucked the blood off her finger and wrapped her arms
|
|
around her knees, leaning her chin against them. He wished he knew what she
|
|
was thinking. He knew what he would be thinking, given reversed circumstances.
|
|
None of it was charitable. She didn't move for a long time, and finally he
|
|
realized that, unable to fight her need for sleep, she had drifted
|
|
off again. As she began to list to one side, he guided her down, pulled the
|
|
quilt over her, and sat back, restlessly wondering what the hell was taking
|
|
Will Riker so long. They should have located him hours ago... unless there
|
|
was some sort of problem with the ship. Then there was Seret Ng. She had
|
|
been fearful of retalitation, and she had been transported to a different
|
|
destination than his. He was afraid her fears might have been realized, but he
|
|
had no way of checking without access to his communicator.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Using the mirror installed behind his office door, Coran smiled and carefully
|
|
arranged the folds of his white mourning-robes, thinking that it was too bad
|
|
important folk didn't die more often. White was a good color for him. To his
|
|
relief, as Davan had promised, Seret Ng's death had been accepted as natural,
|
|
and her memorial was scheduled to begin in only a few minutes. He had
|
|
prepared a speech, praising her contributions to Halvam. Unfortunately he
|
|
could not praise her most important one. Without her engineering of the
|
|
carrier DNA, he would not have been able to rid Halvam of the Halflings so
|
|
neatly. Of course, they were not gone entirely, but since he had seen to it
|
|
that they would never reproduce, it was only a matter of time.
|
|
|
|
Turning, he looked out his window and read the anti-Federation slogan
|
|
phaser-burned into the surface of a neighboring building. The men Davan
|
|
had assigned to the task must have been hard at work. He had seen reports
|
|
of several such defacements over the past day or so. It was a shame to mar
|
|
the stonework, but it was easily cleaned, and he had to do something to
|
|
convince the Enterprise's security that there really was a terrorist threat.
|
|
They were not easily convinced. He had contemplated having Davan bomb a
|
|
building or two, but he hated to consider the expense of replacing them.
|
|
Perhaps instead he could have someone kill that damned Klingon. He had
|
|
virtually set up camp near the spot where they had found Picard's
|
|
communicator, and no amount of assurances from either Davan or himself
|
|
would move him. Riker had proved equally intractable, refusing to order his
|
|
man away from the scene, citing some obscure Klingon ritual he was allowing
|
|
the man to observe.
|
|
|
|
Thinking about Picard's disappearence disturbed him. There was something
|
|
altogether too convenient about it. Yet, Davan was his brother, and had
|
|
proven himself trustworthy. What possible reason could Davan have for
|
|
wishing to countermand his orders, if indeed he had? On the other hand, what
|
|
else could explain it? Picard was obviously not aboard his ship, Davan might
|
|
or might not have him. If he didn't, then where was he? People didn't just
|
|
disappear; at least, not those whose disappearences he had not arranged himself.
|
|
Before they had discovered the Halflings, people had occasionally disappeared,
|
|
only to reappear weeks later with strange tales of "little people".
|
|
Classic hallucinations, it had been thought, until someone had stumbled
|
|
across the City.
|
|
|
|
He stiffened. The City... gods, he hadn't thought about it in years! Could
|
|
Picard have somehow found it? Was that where he was hiding? No, it didn't
|
|
make sense. He had disappeared miles from the underground metropolis. So
|
|
much for that idea. He came back to the annoying possibility that Davan had
|
|
something to do with it. Perhaps one of Davan's underlings could be
|
|
persuaded to talk. If credits didn't work, there was always the possibility
|
|
that one of them had a family he wished to protect. Coran knew a great deal
|
|
about persuasion. A hurrying figure in white crossed the pavement outside
|
|
and he realized it was time to go. He glanced one last time in the mirror
|
|
before leaving his office to deliver Seret Ng's memoriam, savoring the irony
|
|
of the situation.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Picard glanced over at Etain and found her staring at one of the candles in an
|
|
unfocused manner. He wondered what she was thinking. She sighed suddenly and
|
|
looked down at her hands with an expression of ineffable sadness.
|
|
|
|
"Can you tell me what's wrong?" he asked gently.
|
|
|
|
She looked up, her eyes shadowed, memory-haunted. After a moment she shook
|
|
her head, lifting her hands in her all-too-familiar gesture of negation. He
|
|
sighed. Their inability to really communicate was growing increasingly
|
|
irritating. He realized, suddenly, that he had never attempted to find the
|
|
answer to the question that had most disturbed him, the question that had
|
|
precipitated his current predicament.
|
|
|
|
"Etain?"
|
|
|
|
She looked up, questioningly.
|
|
|
|
"Where are the others? Your parents, the other adults?"
|
|
|
|
For a moment she seemed frozen, not even a breath disturbed her utter
|
|
motionlessness. Finally, he heard a harsh intake of air, saw her face fill
|
|
with pain before she lifted her hands as if to shield herself from him. For
|
|
several long moments she sat like that, only the slight tremor of her shoulders
|
|
betrayed her tears. Finally, she took a deep breath, and lowered her hands.
|
|
The totality of loss in her expression gave him the answer to his question
|
|
more eloquently than any spoken sentence could have.
|
|
|
|
"They are dead? All of them?" he asked incredulously.
|
|
|
|
She nodded, slowly.
|
|
|
|
"How?" he asked, forgetting she had no way to tell him.
|
|
|
|
Her fists clenched, and the gaze that met his burned with rage, hate, and...
|
|
accusation? Dark color suffused her face.
|
|
|
|
He had never seen her angry before, and was taken aback, both by the depth of
|
|
her fury, and the accusation he sensed. For the first time in her presence he
|
|
was afraid. This was a being who felt she had reason to kill, perhaps not him,
|
|
but someone.
|
|
|
|
"Etain... what is it?"
|
|
|
|
A visible shudder went through her, and she tore her gaze away from his, her
|
|
eyes tightly closed, her breath coming fast and shallow, as if she were
|
|
physically exerting herself. When she opened them again, her gaze was
|
|
blank, almost without intelligence. She stood up abruptly and he edged
|
|
warily away from her. To his relief she stood for a moment, staring down at
|
|
him, then shook her head violently, leapt for the access-way, and was gone.
|
|
|
|
He stared after her, scowling, wondering what could have triggered her
|
|
reaction. For just a moment he had actually expected her to become
|
|
physically violent, the pain and anger in her had been almost tangible. Why?
|
|
Because he had asked about the others? What reason could she have for such
|
|
an extreme response? Unless... she saw him not as himself, but as one of the
|
|
colonists. He felt a cold tension in his midsection. Someone among the
|
|
colonists had gone so far as to surgically mute the children, could they have
|
|
been ruthless enough to have killed the adults? He didn't want to consider
|
|
the possibility, but what else could have provoked such rage? He rubbed the
|
|
bridge of his nose with both hands, pressing away the headache that
|
|
threatened, and hoped fervently that he was wrong.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Etain kneeled a little way from her nest, beating the hard-packed floor of the
|
|
passage with her fists, ripping her nails as she clawed at the dirt, scraping
|
|
her fingers and palms against the rocks and rough soil. It had taken every bit
|
|
of control she had not to do to him what she did to the ground. He was not
|
|
guilty, she could not punish him for another's deed, but Goddess, how she
|
|
had wanted to! She had not known until that instant that the blood of the
|
|
battle-fury ran in her veins. She had thought the legendary madness had
|
|
been tamed by the years and Sleeps since they had left First Home, and by
|
|
joining with the Shi. Only now did she find it still boiled, hot and strong
|
|
and wild, beneath her own skin.
|
|
|
|
It frightened her, and she pushed it away frantically with each blow against
|
|
the earth until finally, the last of it drained away and she was left crouching
|
|
in the darkness, panting like an animal, tears and sweat dripping off her face
|
|
to mingle with the blood on her hands... her own blood, thank the Old Ones,
|
|
not his. After long minutes had passed, she sat back on her heels and wiped
|
|
her face with the back of one hand. She could smell the anger on herself, the
|
|
fear, the instinctive violence. It stank. She stank. She gagged, and
|
|
shuddered wanting only to rid herself of the stench.
|
|
|
|
She stood up and took a step toward her nest, then stopped. Something inside
|
|
her warned her, not there, not yet. It was too soon, her anger still too
|
|
close to the surface. Slowly she turned and followed the tunnels down,
|
|
toward the sanctuary of the dead. They would not mind her state, and the
|
|
hot-spring there would both cleanse and ease her. Later, when she was fully
|
|
sure of her control, she would return to the nest, though she knew she could
|
|
never explain to Picard what had happened, or why.
|
|
|
|
For a moment she thought of using the mind-touch, as she had that once, when he
|
|
had needed to understand that she was healing him; but she discarded the idea
|
|
almost immediately. That had been too close, too disturbingly... invasive, to
|
|
touch another's mind so directly. She felt as if she had left a piece of
|
|
herself there, and did not want to risk further loss.
|
|
|
|
She walked slowly, trying to leach off the last of her anger before she reached
|
|
Dhara. It seemed inappropriate to carry it there, no matter that the cause of
|
|
it was her desire to avenge the dead... and the living. It seemed odd to be
|
|
going there again so soon, it had been a long time since she had been there at
|
|
all, now twice in only a few days. Perhaps that was why her reaction to
|
|
Picard's question had been so extreme. The memory of death had been stirred
|
|
anew by her last visit. She determined this time she would not take away
|
|
memories to overwhelm her later. She would only remember the times before the
|
|
Dying.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Steam rose in white clouds, the air held the slightly eggy scent she remembered
|
|
from the past. It brought back memories of laughter, splashing, dunking,
|
|
children and adults relaxing in the heat. Sitting on a ledge was a clay jar,
|
|
its surface intricate in black and white interlace. Smiling, Etain reached
|
|
over and worked its cork stopper loose. Even after so long, the herbs inside
|
|
the jar were still fragrant, recalling sunlight and spring, the times before
|
|
her first Sleep when she had gone gathering. She sprinkled a handful of loose
|
|
herbs into the water and replaced the stopper in the jar, then took off her
|
|
skirt and vest, dropping them into the steaming pool. No doubt they stank as
|
|
badly as she did. She stood for a moment, deliberately blocking out newer
|
|
memories and then stepped into the water.
|
|
|
|
It was hotter than she remembered, she had to immerse herself a little at a
|
|
time to stand the heat. Perhaps it was just that she had become used to
|
|
washing with the cold water available in her nest. She sat down, finally, and
|
|
let the heat enclose her, leaning back with her head against the ledge which
|
|
held the herb-pot. She drifted, half-dreaming, caught in a fantasy that all
|
|
was as it had once been, that she was a child, without the awareness of death,
|
|
or pain, or hatred.
|
|
|
|
It was a pleasant dream while it lasted, unfortunately the heat of the steam
|
|
made her drowsy, and decided she had best get out before she fell asleep and
|
|
drowned. She rinsed her clothing and wrung it damp-dry before putting it
|
|
back on, and finger-combed her hair as best she could before braiding it. She
|
|
felt like an entirely different person than the she had earlier. It was
|
|
something of a revelation, that remembering did not have to be painful.
|
|
|
|
As she walked away from the baths, past the houses which held the dead, a
|
|
little of her good mood trailed away. It was difficult to maintain with so
|
|
many bad memories clamoring for attention. She stopped and stood for a
|
|
moment, gazing at the rath which had once been her home, knowing it was
|
|
empty now, even of dead, as her family had been elsewhere when the
|
|
sickness came. Slowly she walked toward it, and ducked under the low lintel
|
|
of the doorway.
|
|
|
|
Dust covered everything, once-bright coverings of the pallets now muted, even
|
|
thread-bare in places from the predations of the moths and mice which inhabited
|
|
the city. On the table lay the desiccated remains of their last meal
|
|
together... flat, coarse-textured nutbread, a clay pot containing the
|
|
crystallized residue of honey, the shriveled brown remains of apples, one
|
|
showed signs of having been digger-gnawed. The shrine still held its statues,
|
|
the Three, and the Horned One. They were dust-covered as well. She wondered
|
|
if that was disrespectful, then decided if they wished to be clean, they would
|
|
be.
|
|
|
|
Her father's flute lay on the table as well, its wooden surface dulled by
|
|
neglect. She picked it up and carefully blew it clean, then lifted it to her
|
|
lips. A discordant tone and a sifting of dust emerged. She laughed at the
|
|
thought of how she must look, and blew into it again, clearing the last of the
|
|
fine dust from it, then played a rill of notes. The sound was hollow and
|
|
faintly eerie, yet at the same time sweet. It suited her mood, and she left
|
|
the house playing haltingly, she had never been very good with it, and it had
|
|
been years since she had even thought of playing, but the sense of familiarity
|
|
it gave her was soothing.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
At first Picard thought he was imagining the soft, haunting sound that
|
|
gradually insinuated itself into his awareness. He had become so used to the
|
|
silence that even the soft trickle of water from the garderobe and the sputter
|
|
and hiss of candle-flames were audible. For a few seconds he suspected that
|
|
his mind was making up for the lack of stimuli by supplying a sound, but it
|
|
was not a familiar song, or instrument. It was not the sound of the flute he
|
|
knew, and it had a wider range than an ocarina. He listened intently, puzzled
|
|
by the sound, wondering what, and more importantly, who had produced it.
|
|
The tune was aimless, wandering, with no particular tempo or theme, as if
|
|
whoever produced it had no song in mind, just sound; like a child practicing
|
|
scales, but with more variation.
|
|
|
|
It grew progressively louder, presumably closer, then stopped suddenly. The
|
|
quiet seemed a thousand times more intense than it had before. He hadn't
|
|
realized how much he missed sound. He had been quite aware of missing
|
|
other stimuli, books, conversation, access to music, the day-to-day details of
|
|
the ship, but he had not been conscious of how much he missed the
|
|
continuous little hums, chirps and other background noises of the Enterprise.
|
|
The realization helped explain why he found himself increasingly irritable,
|
|
feeling virtually a prisoner. He was experiencing a mild form of sensory
|
|
deprivation. He wondered briefly how Etain stood it, but perhaps she had no
|
|
experience with anything else. Coming from a world of intense sensory
|
|
input, he was having difficulties with the lack thereof. He flexed his
|
|
shoulders, his body stiff and aching from disuse. He had never dealt well
|
|
with forced inactivity. For the thousandth time he wondered what the hell
|
|
was taking so long. Riker should have located him by now.
|
|
|
|
Without warning Etain slid over the low sill of the outer access into the room.
|
|
He tensed momentarily, wondering if her previous mood was still on her. A
|
|
moment's study told him it was not. Something was different, not just her
|
|
expression, though that was far more amicable than before, it was something
|
|
almost tangible, physical. Perhaps it was simply that she seemed somehow
|
|
lighter, less... burdened. The change was very noticeable. She held a long
|
|
slender object in one hand, and her hair and clothing appeared damp. She
|
|
stood for a moment, uncertainly, then resolutely advanced to where he was
|
|
and sat down across from him, holding out her hands, palm up, her
|
|
expression apologetic. She smelled of... what? Flowers? No, but the scent
|
|
was fresh, green, it made him think of the fields and vineyards he had played
|
|
in as a child. He had never noticed her scent before. He shook his head, not
|
|
accepting her apology.
|
|
|
|
"There is nothing for you to apologize for, but I am sorry, if I stirred
|
|
painful memories."
|
|
|
|
She nodded minutely, and shrugged, letting her hands fall to her knees,
|
|
attracting his attention to the object she had carried, now lying in her lap.
|
|
It was a slim wooden cylinder, intricately carved, with a series of small holes
|
|
drilled in it. He smiled, the mystery was solved.
|
|
|
|
"That was you playing, earlier?"
|
|
|
|
She nodded, a slightly wistful smile on her face.
|
|
|
|
"It has a lovely sound."
|
|
|
|
She nodded again.
|
|
|
|
"Is it yours?"
|
|
|
|
She shook her head, touched her chest, then hesitated, obviously unsure how
|
|
to continue. After a moment she sighed and shrugged again. He controlled
|
|
the urge to sigh as well. Their attempts at communication often ended that
|
|
way, with her unable to find a way to express an idea, and him having no
|
|
way to prompt her.
|
|
|
|
After a moment she brightened, touched her chest again, then held her arms
|
|
as if cradling a child.
|
|
|
|
"It belonged to your mother?" he queried.
|
|
|
|
She scowled and shook her head, making the sign they had agreed on for
|
|
'close', the thumb and forefinger held marginally apart, then repeated the
|
|
motions, this time touching him at the end of the sequence. He thought for a
|
|
moment. The only difference had been her inclusion of him. Since he knew
|
|
his first guess had been close to the correct meaning, and he was obviously
|
|
not the owner of the flute, the difference seemed to be gender. He tried again.
|
|
|
|
"Your father?"
|
|
|
|
She grinned, nodding.
|
|
|
|
He found himself smiling back, then he sobered, remembering her reaction to
|
|
his question about her parents. "Someday I hope you can tell me about
|
|
them."
|
|
|
|
Her gaze fell, but she nodded. After a moment she stood up and went to the
|
|
shelf where she kept their food, her expression grave. She sighed and turned
|
|
away, touched her chest and pointed up.
|
|
|
|
"You don't have to do that, you know," he said, feeling vaguely guilty. The
|
|
last time she had gone above she had returned in a state of extreme agitation.
|
|
He knew his presence was causing her to go for food more often than she
|
|
would ordinarily.
|
|
|
|
He didn't know where she got their provisions, but he had the uneasy feeling
|
|
that she was stealing it. She obviously hadn't the means to purchase it, and
|
|
he was fairly certain she wasn't getting the food from any of the social
|
|
service organizations which existed to help the indigent. She was probably
|
|
afraid to.
|
|
|
|
She shifted her shoulders back stiffly and lifted an eyebrow at him in an
|
|
uncanny imitation of one of his own expressions. Her meaning was quite
|
|
clear. Of course she had to feed him. He chuckled, acknowledging the
|
|
mimicry.
|
|
|
|
"That's quite good, you know."
|
|
|
|
She grinned, then repeated her earlier gestures. He nodded.
|
|
|
|
"If you feel you must, but be careful."
|
|
|
|
She acknowledged his admonition with a short nod, then ducked out of the
|
|
nest again, leaving him alone once more, in the quiet. A moment later the
|
|
sound of the flute drifted back, gradually fading as she gained more distance.
|
|
He felt slightly disappointed when the sound dwindled away to nothing. It
|
|
had been a pleasant distraction from the silence. He picked up her book and
|
|
began, with little enthusiasm, to peruse it for the fourth or fifth time.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Etain felt almost happy as she traveled toward the surface, closer to being
|
|
happy than she had been in a long time. Somehow, the spasm of rage that
|
|
had filled her and drained away had taken with it years of pain. Things could
|
|
never be the same, but they were not so bad now. She thought of the little
|
|
ones, and smiled, instead of feeling her eyes fill with tears. Perhaps they
|
|
would be all right, be released from whatever magic held them captive,
|
|
children, instead of the young men and women they were meant to be. For
|
|
the first time since she could remember, she had hope.
|
|
|
|
In the beginning, when Picard had said he would help, she had not believed
|
|
him; but she could sense, and now acknowledge, that he was a man who kept
|
|
his word. For some reason, she found herself remembering the small, amber-
|
|
skinned, dark-haired woman who had aided her, so long ago. She had confused
|
|
Etain terribly, her emotions a mass of contradictions... she seemed to hate
|
|
the Rua'shi, yet had helped Etain escape the Darkmind's lair. It had made no
|
|
sense to her, it still did not, but she had accepted the help gratefully.
|
|
She thought back to that night. It had been only a day since they had stolen
|
|
her voice, and she still had been weak, and in pain when the woman had
|
|
come, furtive and strange, to hurry her from her bed and into the darkness.
|
|
For a moment the sadness returned. If only the woman had been able to free
|
|
the others as well! But then, if she had, the Darkmind would have continued
|
|
to hunt for them, and eventually found them. One, he had not missed. All,
|
|
he would have. Shaking off that thought, she lifted the flute and began to
|
|
play again.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Once more she donned the hated gray smock, and put up her hair. To ease
|
|
the discomfort she felt in those clothes, she pocketed her father's flute and
|
|
fingered it, out of sight, for reassurance. She knew she could not go back to
|
|
the dormitory kitchen so soon, but there was another place not far, where
|
|
Tall-Ones' gathered to eat and socialize. She had foraged there many times.
|
|
There were others, not Kin, who foraged there as well, and one of the kitchen
|
|
helpers made it a habit to leave small bundles of food outside the back door
|
|
for whomever needed it.
|
|
|
|
Emerging from the tunnels, she found it bright day Above. That made her
|
|
task more difficult, but she had learned that if she walked carefully and did
|
|
not hurry, she would be taken for one of the children ferrying a message.
|
|
Feeling a prickle of apprehension between her shoulderblades, and an
|
|
anxious twisting in her stomach, she set off, imitating the grounded, almost
|
|
shuffling gait of her kin.
|
|
|
|
None of the Tall-Ones who walked the street glanced twice at her as she
|
|
traversed the hard-surfaced pavement, eyes carefully downcast. That was
|
|
just as well, for a second glance might have revealed her bare feet, or her
|
|
height, betraying her. As it was, she reached the building she wanted
|
|
without incident. Waiting a moment to watch for others, she cautiously
|
|
slipped around to the back of the building.
|
|
|
|
No one was in sight, but the steps held several bundles, each carefully
|
|
wrapped in the strange, clear material she had come to expect. She stooped
|
|
to study the bundles, trying to decide which would be the most useful. One
|
|
contained some sort of stew, another some unfamiliar pink stuff, a third
|
|
several small rolls and fruit. She reached for that one and had just taken
|
|
hold of it when a loud voice spoke from behind her.
|
|
|
|
"Hey, you!"
|
|
|
|
She straightened with a gasp, the package still in her hand. There was a man
|
|
at the entrance to the alleyway; frighteningly tall, heavily muscled, wearing
|
|
the blue-black uniform of the Darkmind's minions. He started forward,
|
|
scowling.
|
|
|
|
"What are you doing here? What's that you have? Why aren't you at the
|
|
dormitory?"
|
|
|
|
Etain glanced around agitatedly, trying to find a way out, but nothing
|
|
presented itself. The man stood between her and the only way out, at her
|
|
back was the door to the kitchen, which contained more Tall-ones who
|
|
would, no doubt, aid in her capture. Despite that, she retreated as he
|
|
approached, until her back was against the door. He was close now, she
|
|
could see that he was fair-haired, young, and hard-looking. He studied her
|
|
with a vaguely puzzled expression, his glance taking in her bare feet and the
|
|
package in her hand.
|
|
|
|
"Here, now, what are you doing?" he repeated loudly, as if she were deaf, not
|
|
mute.
|
|
|
|
She shook her head, then almost fell as the door behind her opened. She felt
|
|
large hands on her shoulders, and was surprised when she realized they
|
|
steadied her, and did not detain her. She glanced back, saw the familiar gray-
|
|
brown hair and worn, pleasant features of the woman who left the packages.
|
|
Etain relaxed slightly, at least she wouldn't accuse her of stealing. The
|
|
woman nodded at her reassuringly, then lifted her gaze angrily to the
|
|
younger man.
|
|
|
|
"Leave the child alone! She's just hungry. If I've no quarrel with her, you
|
|
shouldn't either."
|
|
|
|
The blonde man's expression turned belligerent. "She should be at work, or
|
|
in the dormitory. She's not supposed to be roaming around doing nothing."
|
|
|
|
"What, hasn't she a life of her own? Don't be so damned stiff man, she's not
|
|
hurting anyone. Why don't you come inside, have something to eat, and
|
|
forget about her?"
|
|
|
|
The young guard hesitated, indecisive. Etain felt a slight push and saw the
|
|
woman nod toward the alley's entrance. Cautiously she took a step away
|
|
from her protector's bulk. The guard didn't move. She sidled a few steps
|
|
more, staying as far away from him as she could. Still he did not move.
|
|
Heartened, she began to edge past him, when suddenly his arm shot out and
|
|
she was caught in his grip and yanked close to him.
|
|
|
|
"Don't let me catch you here ag..." his voice trailed off in surprise as he
|
|
stared down at her, and then he deliberately ran his hand across her chest.
|
|
His brows drew down in consternation as his hand encountered the unmistakable
|
|
softness of small, but definitely present breasts.
|
|
|
|
"What the hell!" He exclaimed harshly. "Who are you... what are you?"
|
|
|
|
"Stop that!" the portly woman snapped angrily, advancing on them with her
|
|
fists clenched menacingly. She was nearly as tall as the guard, and definitely
|
|
outweighed him. He took a step back, his grip on Etain loosening. Frantic,
|
|
she tore herself from his grasp and dashed for freedom, but lost her footing
|
|
on the dirt which had accumulated in the alley and went down on hands and
|
|
knees, skinning them painfully. She scrambled to her feet and glanced back.
|
|
The guard was struggling with the woman, trying to chase Etain, but unable
|
|
to free himself from the bear-hug in which he was entrapped.
|
|
|
|
"Go, child, go on!" the woman called.
|
|
|
|
Etain needed no second prompting. She ran.
|
|
|
|
Something fell from her pocket, and bounced on the ground with a light,
|
|
hollow sound. She skidded to a stop, realizing what it had been, the flute.
|
|
Without thinking she stooped and groped for it, found it, and looked back.
|
|
The young guardsman a scant two yards from her, and in seconds, he had
|
|
her, hands tight around her upper arms as he shook her hard enough to
|
|
loosen her hair from its binding to spill down around her shoulders.
|
|
|
|
"You're no halfling! What the hell are you?"
|
|
|
|
She struggled in his grasp, trying to pull free, but he was far larger and
|
|
stronger than she. He let go of her with one hand, the other tightening
|
|
painfully as he drew back his hand. She closed her eyes and turned her face,
|
|
trying to avoid the blow. Strangely, it never came, and his grip on her arm
|
|
went suddenly slack as he crumpled to the ground. Startled, she opened her
|
|
eyes to find her benefactress standing over the man, a large, flat metal object
|
|
in her hand, and an expression of extreme satisfaction on her face. She
|
|
chuckled, seemingly at the bewildered expression on Etain's face.
|
|
|
|
"He'll not be manhandling you again any time soon. Go on, get out of here
|
|
before he wakes up."
|
|
|
|
Etain nodded, and backed away, then stopped. How to thank her? There
|
|
was no reason for her to have helped, yet she had. For the second time lately,
|
|
her surety that all Tall-ones were evil had been shaken. Perhaps she had been
|
|
wrong. She put her hand to her throat, and shook her head, then put her
|
|
palms together and ducked her head over them, as she had seen the little-
|
|
ones do when expressing gratitude. The woman smiled.
|
|
|
|
"You're welcome. Now, get."
|
|
|
|
Etain got.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Once safely back in the tunnels, Etain realized with surprise that through the
|
|
entire episode, she had unconsciously managed to hang onto the packet of food.
|
|
The rolls were slightly flattened, and the fruit a little bruised, but both
|
|
were still edible. Unfortunately the flute had sustained more abuse, the old,
|
|
dry wood had split along the spine, damaging it irreparably. Pragmatically,
|
|
she decided better it than her, and headed back toward her c_s where Picard
|
|
waited.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Picard looked up as Etain came in, and catching her pained expression, he
|
|
studied her more closely as she limped over to the table and set down her
|
|
bag. Her hair was wild, her knees and hands were stained dark, and looked
|
|
skinned. He sat up, instantly concerned.
|
|
|
|
"What happened?" he demanded, before remembering she could not tell him.
|
|
A little exasperated, he rephrased. "Did something happen?"
|
|
|
|
She nodded, with a sigh, and rubbed at her arms, then picked up a bowl,
|
|
crossed to the garderobe entrance and disappeared. She emerged a moment
|
|
later carrying the bow, filled with water, and a scrap of cloth. Sitting down
|
|
across from him, she began to carefully clean her skinned knees. Up close he
|
|
could see that both her upper-arms were encircled by hand-width bands of
|
|
purpling bruises. He frowned, suspecting the cause.
|
|
|
|
"Someone almost caught you, didn't they?"
|
|
|
|
She nodded, not looking at him, concentrating on picking small bits of gravel
|
|
out of her knee.
|
|
|
|
"Have you been stealing food for me?" he asked quietly.
|
|
|
|
She looked up and nodded, obviously surprised that he needed to ask. He
|
|
sighed.
|
|
|
|
"I would rather you didn't."
|
|
|
|
She frowned, shaking her head, and touched her chest, then lifted her hands as
|
|
if to say "what else can I do?" A trickle of rust-colored water ran down her
|
|
arm from her hand when she raised it. She looked annoyed and wiped it off
|
|
with the cloth. He leaned forward and took one of her hands in his,
|
|
inspecting the damage, and found that along with the fresh scrapes and cuts on
|
|
the heel of her hand, slightly older scratches marred her palm, and her nails
|
|
were raggedly torn. He could tell those injuries were older, for her nails
|
|
and the older scratches were cleaner. Wondering how she had gotten the
|
|
other scrapes, he held out his hand for the cloth. She eyed him dubiously,
|
|
then with some reluctance gave it to him and he began to clean the abrasions
|
|
for her.
|
|
|
|
"There are places you can go, to get food, that don't involve stealing." he
|
|
said gently, trying not to sound as if he were reprimanding her.
|
|
|
|
She shook her head.
|
|
|
|
"Yes, really. You just need to know where to go."
|
|
|
|
She shook her head again, more vehemently and pointed up with her free
|
|
hand, then touched the bruises on her arm, and the scrapes on her hand. He
|
|
understood that she felt she would be caught if she went somewhere openly.
|
|
Perhaps she was right. It was her world, she knew it better than he could.
|
|
|
|
"I suppose that's true." he acknowledged, reluctantly. "I'm sorry you were
|
|
hurt."
|
|
|
|
She shrugged, her usual response to any expression of concern on his part.
|
|
He frowned.
|
|
|
|
"No, it is not alright! Not at all! I am endangering you. I've got to get
|
|
out of here! Will you take me above, where I can contact my ship, and find
|
|
some way to correct this situation? It's intolerable!"
|
|
|
|
She pulled away, startled by his sudden vehemence, and winced as his
|
|
fingers skimmed her injured palm. She shook her head forcefully in absolute
|
|
refusal of his request.
|
|
|
|
"Why?" he demanded.
|
|
|
|
For answer she pulled her knife from its sheath and brandished it at an
|
|
imaginary foe, holding her other arm before her face defensively, then she
|
|
pointed to his ankle.
|
|
|
|
He sighed. "Yes, I know it's dangerous, and I realize I'm not particularly
|
|
mobile, but I can't stay here! There must be something wrong, since my
|
|
people haven't found me yet. I need to get back!" He saw the stubborn set of
|
|
her chin and changed his approach, softening his manner. "I also can do
|
|
nothing to help you or the others until I return to my ship. Once there, I can
|
|
begin the work needed to free them, and you."
|
|
|
|
His change of tactic almost worked. He saw the muscles in her jaw relax, she
|
|
looked hesitant for a moment, then the tension returned and she shook her
|
|
head again, pointing once more to his ankle, and holding up three fingers.
|
|
|
|
"Three what?"
|
|
|
|
Making a circle of her fingers, she passed them in an arc above her head. He
|
|
scowled.
|
|
|
|
"Three days? Too long." he insisted.
|
|
|
|
She shrugged, wrapped her arms around her knees and looked away.
|
|
|
|
He sighed. Obviously she wasn't going to give in on the subject. She was
|
|
every bit as stubborn as Beverly Crusher. He gave her a moment, then held
|
|
out his hand again.
|
|
|
|
"I wasn't finished with that. Give it back."
|
|
|
|
She hesitated, then stuck her hand out gracelessly and let him finish, but
|
|
refused to look at him. He wondered what he'd said wrong this time.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Picard watched Etain sharpen her knife with growing irritation. He was bored,
|
|
sick of hiding, tired of being in pain, and jealous of her ability to come
|
|
and go as she pleased. On top of that, he was growing seriously worried
|
|
about his ship. It was taking too long, something was obviously wrong.
|
|
Altogether, he was not in a good mood, the mixture of annoyances and worry
|
|
combined into a roiling simmer or frustration. Needing some sort of outlet,
|
|
he swore. Etain jumped, startled. He found her reaction was obscurely
|
|
satisfying. He favored her with one of his patented icy stares. She seemed to
|
|
sway an inch or two farther away, her eyes widening.
|
|
|
|
"Must you make that noise?" he enquired frostily.
|
|
|
|
She looked down at the knife and whetstone, shook her head, and set the stone
|
|
down. Carefully she cleaned the blade and replaced it in its sheath. For
|
|
a moment she seemed indecisive, then she picked up the bowl which held her
|
|
meager provisions and advanced on him, holding it out, looking for all the
|
|
world like some acolyte offering sacrifice.
|
|
|
|
"No, thank you," he snapped, before she got within reach.
|
|
|
|
She stopped, and turned away, setting the bowl back on the flat sheet of metal
|
|
that served as a table. Again, she seemed at a loss, then brightened, and
|
|
picked up her one book, turning to bring it to him.
|
|
|
|
"I don't want that, either. What I want is out of here!"
|
|
|
|
She dropped the book; her face paled, then flushed, and her gaze lowered,
|
|
then lifted hesitantly. He saw the pain there and winced. He was being petty,
|
|
and she didn't deserve it. She had done nothing but try to help. Belatedly,
|
|
he tried to apologise.
|
|
|
|
"I'm sorry... I'm not used to inactivity. I..."
|
|
|
|
She shook her head violently, and waved a hand, negating his words. Quickly
|
|
she touched two fingers to her chest, then pointed up, her way of saying she
|
|
was going above. Before he could respond, she had gone. He swore, more
|
|
meaningfully this time. His actions had been uncalled for, and he felt worse,
|
|
not better, for indulging his bad disposition. Now she was gone again, above.
|
|
Every time she went above, she returned in a state of emotional agitation, and
|
|
so far had been unable to make him understand why. It had something to do with
|
|
the others of her kind, but not, as he had first thought, with their
|
|
enslavement. That seemed to make little difference to her. It was something
|
|
else, something to do with their size, as far as he could ascertain. In any
|
|
case, he had hurt her.
|
|
|
|
Feeling more than a little ashamed of himself, he maneuvered over to where she
|
|
had dropped her book and retrieved it. Wrapping it carefully in its cloth, he
|
|
replaced it in its stone cubbyhole, noting a smaller cloth-wrapped parcel
|
|
tucked into a corner of the same hiding place. He almost took it out to look
|
|
at it, in hopes that it was another book, but didn't. He had no right to pry
|
|
into her belongings, especially not now. He only hoped he had not
|
|
irretrievably shattered the fragile trust she had bestowed on him.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
______________________________________________________________________________
|
|
copyright 1992, Kellie Matthews-Simmons
|
|
matthews_k@cubldr.colorado.edu//matthewk@spot.colorado.edu
|
|
all rights reserved
|
|
|
|
Standard Disclaimers Apply
|
|
|
|
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From: JULIA@Jetson.UH.EDU
|
|
To: jfy@cis.ksu.edu
|
|
Subject: (TNG) Silence, A Novel by Kellie Matthews-Simmons, Part 5
|
|
Date: Tue, 31 Aug 1993 12:43:37 -0500 (CDT)
|
|
|
|
CHAPTER FIVE
|
|
|
|
Etain sat at the juncture of two tunnels, arms wrapped around her knees as if
|
|
to ward off a chill, though the temperature was no lower than normal. She
|
|
didn't understand why he had behaved as he had, but the truth behind his
|
|
statement had left no room for doubt. He did want out. Out, and up, not just
|
|
Above, but to his... ship. The star-ship that he spoke of in tones she would
|
|
have reserved for a parent, or a mate. Worse, she didn't understand why she
|
|
did not want him to go just as much as he seemed to want it.
|
|
|
|
She had not wanted to help him in the first place, now she did not want him
|
|
to go. It had been so long, since she had been gifted with another human
|
|
presence. It was hard, to let him go, even if he was a Tall-One. Odd, how she
|
|
thought of him as human, when he was not. His blood, his skin, his ears, his
|
|
mind... all told her he was Other. She would not have thought it possible,
|
|
just days before, that she would ever consider a Tall-One fully human. She had
|
|
never understood why they seemed so different. Now she knew that they
|
|
were different, not just in outlook, but physically, in the same way that she
|
|
was different from the small, blind diggers she found in the deepest tunnels.
|
|
But Picard was human, nonetheless.
|
|
|
|
Finally, she came to a decision, on her own, without consulting her
|
|
grandmother, or the Lady. He had to go. Her frequent visits to the kitchens
|
|
were becoming dangerous. Soon, someone would see her, despite her
|
|
precautions, and she would be caught. Left to herself, she could forage food
|
|
elsewhere. But how? Despite her best efforts, he could not walk yet, and if
|
|
he ventured above the Darkmind's servants might find and kill him. That meant
|
|
she had to find someone who would shield him. Easier thought than
|
|
accomplished. She scowled, wondering how she was supposed to find such
|
|
help. Then it occurred to her that he had said several times that his... crew
|
|
would be looking for him. If so, perhaps she could find one of them. But that
|
|
entailed going looking for them; a task more dangerous than her trips to the
|
|
kitchens, since it meant exposing herself to even more Tall-Ones.
|
|
|
|
Further reflection brought another memory. He had also spoken of a device, a
|
|
small metal object, with which he could contact his friends. It had been lost
|
|
in his fight with the Darkmind's servants. If she could locate it, he could
|
|
call for help. She had not gone to look for it then, because they had been
|
|
there, looking for him. But now, if she could find it, he could return safely
|
|
to his proper place. Away from her... but then, that was just as well. It was
|
|
dangerous to allow others a place in one's life. Painful. Had he not just
|
|
proven that to her yet again?
|
|
|
|
She stood, and took the left-hand passage, the one that led upward,
|
|
eventually coming to the small branch that was too low-ceilinged to allow
|
|
walking, the one she had used the night she had brought Picard below.
|
|
Following it to its end, she paused cautiously and extended her awareness
|
|
above, to see if it was safe to venture out. Sensing none of the Darkmind's
|
|
servants about, she reached to open the screen which sheilded the passage
|
|
entryway, and stopped suddenly.
|
|
|
|
There was something... something odd above. A thing she had never sensed
|
|
before. Something large, and... very strange. For a moment she had thought
|
|
it an animal, but its thought-patterns were too orderly, almost like a human's,
|
|
though she could not read them easily.
|
|
|
|
Etain tried harder to access the nature of the being, frowning fiercely in
|
|
concentration, sending probes first one way, then another, until finally, like
|
|
water finding a weak spot in a child's mud dam, she found a way in. A
|
|
trickle at first, then a flood. She hastily cut off the flow of information,
|
|
shaking her head at the sheer power of it. The strength of emotions this being
|
|
held pent within itself was astonishing, the dark, hot undertones of wished-
|
|
for violence made her shudder. But for all its un-human strangeness, two
|
|
things were clear. This was no Darkmind. For all its fierceness, it held that
|
|
part of itself in tight control. And it knew Picard. Not as prey, but as
|
|
leader. She no longer needed to find the metal device, she had found something
|
|
far better. Drawing a deep breath, she opened the gate.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Worf sat immobile, crouched on haunches that had become slightly numb
|
|
from too long without movement. He stared at the scuffed, crumbling
|
|
ground where he had found Picard's communicator, and cursed himself. He
|
|
was responsible for the captain's safety, and he had failed to carry out his
|
|
duty. He had known that the Captain seemed disturbed, but had not
|
|
watched, not questioned, assuming the disturbance to be some inner, human
|
|
thing. He should have known better. Now the Captain was gone, perhaps
|
|
dead, perhaps not, but Worf had no way of knowing which. For once he
|
|
would have welcomed the silly Counselor, she would be able to tell at least
|
|
that much; but he had only Riker's guess that Coran Delvekia was lying about
|
|
the supposed terrorists. So he waited, where the captain had last been traced
|
|
by the combadge monitor, as he should. He would wait there, without food
|
|
or water, until he received understanding of what to do next.
|
|
|
|
A sound jerked his head up and he tensed, listening for the slight stone-
|
|
against-stone noise he had heard to be repeated. No sound came. He sighed,
|
|
and turned his gaze once more toward the earth. As he had hoped, once he had
|
|
stilled another sound came. Not the stone sound, but the subtle rustle of bare
|
|
feet on dry grasses, the tiny whistle of half-caught breaths. Small, human...
|
|
or human-like, female... he could smell her, sense her... he flexed the
|
|
muscles in his legs, ready to spring. She came closer, then stopped, almost as
|
|
if waiting. He waited as well until he could wait no more. With a growl, he
|
|
moved, and caught her wrist as she gasped, but did not move.
|
|
|
|
He looked at his hand, which covered almost all of her forearm, at her long
|
|
russet hair, at her oddly familiar features, and slowly released her. She
|
|
still did not move, save to rub at the welts his grip had left on her arm. He
|
|
looked in her eyes, and her gaze did not waver. He saw astonishment in her,
|
|
and fear, and recognised the effort it took her not to run. It was one of the
|
|
little ones, but one who had never seen a Klingon before, one a little older,
|
|
a little more individual than the others.
|
|
|
|
He stepped back a few paces, and she seemed to relax slightly, her breath
|
|
coming a little more deeply. He nodded.
|
|
|
|
"You wish something?" he asked curtly, wondering what she was doing out
|
|
in the middle of nowhere... and more importantly, where she had come from.
|
|
|
|
She nodded.
|
|
|
|
"What?"
|
|
|
|
She drew a deep breath and stepped closer to him, reaching out to point to,
|
|
but not touch, his combadge with a finger that shook slightly. He looked
|
|
from it to her, puzzled.
|
|
|
|
"You wish to have my combadge?"
|
|
|
|
She sagged a little, and shook her head. After a moment, she pointed to the
|
|
ground, then again to his communicator. He was even more puzzled.
|
|
|
|
"You wish me to place my communicator on the ground?"
|
|
|
|
She shook her head strongly, and scowled, obviously trying to find a way to
|
|
communicate her meaning. He waited patiently. Usually the little ones
|
|
eventually found the means to express themselves. After two half-hearted
|
|
attempts, she finally pulled at his sleeve, and pointed toward the edge of the
|
|
canal. He allowed her to guide him to the edge, and watched as she lowered
|
|
herself over the side where the drop was the shallowest and then stand there
|
|
looking expectantly up at him. He frowned. She obviously intended him to
|
|
follow. He crossed his arms on his chest and planted his feet.
|
|
|
|
"Why should I accompany you?"
|
|
|
|
She rolled her eyes, and looked disgusted. After a moment she touched her
|
|
throat, sighed, and held her splayed hands out in front of her, shaking them
|
|
in obvious frustation. Then suddenly, her face lit. She had obviously had an
|
|
idea. Grabbing a small stick from the ground, she swept her hair back in a
|
|
tight knot and stuck the stick through it to hold it in place. Then she turned
|
|
toward him with her face set and grim, turned an icy, arch-browed gaze on
|
|
him, and deliberately, took hold of the bottom edge of her vest and yanked it
|
|
down an inch.
|
|
|
|
The impersonation was unmistakable. He stared at her in shock.
|
|
|
|
"Captain Picard?" he managed to ask.
|
|
|
|
The imperious look disappeared, replaced by a triumphant grin as she
|
|
nodded, the motion sending her hair flying loose from its makeshift binding.
|
|
He crouched and jumped, landing close enough beside her to startle her into
|
|
backing up, against the channel wall. Worf moved out of her space, trying to
|
|
stay in control, and not to intimidate her
|
|
|
|
"He is alive, he is well?" he demanded with all the civility he could manage.
|
|
|
|
She nodded, then bent to touch her leg and make a face, as if in pain. Since
|
|
she had not exhibited any sign of pain before, he took that as answer to his
|
|
second question. The captain's leg was injured in some way.
|
|
|
|
"I understand. Where is he?"
|
|
|
|
She motioned for him to follow and walked along the channel floor for about
|
|
two meters, then stopped. Carefully she pushed on one edge of a large
|
|
boulder there, and it moved, with the distinctive stone-on-stone sound that
|
|
had alerted him earlier; swinging open to reveal a narrow opening behind it.
|
|
She pointed.
|
|
|
|
"He is in there?"
|
|
|
|
She nodded, and made a sweeping motion, as if to indicate distance. Worf
|
|
ducked and looked into the opening, realizing it was the entrance to a
|
|
passageway. He gauged the width of the opening, and decided he could pass
|
|
through, barely. He looked back at the woman.
|
|
|
|
"Does the passage narrow?"
|
|
|
|
She shook her head, and put her palms together, then separated them.
|
|
|
|
"It widens?" he guessed.
|
|
|
|
She nodded. He reached up and touched his combadge.
|
|
|
|
"Worf to Commander Riker."
|
|
|
|
The reply was almost instantaneous. "Riker here." The commander's voice
|
|
held the sharpness of strain. Worf understood that. The young woman was
|
|
staring at his chest, her expression baffled, apparently startled by the voice
|
|
without a source.
|
|
|
|
"I believe I have had a... revelation, Commander." Worf knew that Riker
|
|
would understand. They had agreed not to speak openly, since they
|
|
suspected Halvam's Security Forces of having had a hand in the Captain's
|
|
disappearence. He heard the commander's sharply drawn breath, then a
|
|
moment later he acknowleged Worf's words.
|
|
|
|
"I see. Are you well?"
|
|
|
|
"I am well, but I have been in the dark, and I may have difficulty walking."
|
|
|
|
"I... understand. I will send a team with the necessary equipment to your
|
|
current coordinates."
|
|
|
|
"Thank you, sir. Worf out."
|
|
|
|
He looked back at his guide, found her still staring curiously at his combadge.
|
|
Considering her reaction to the communicator, he thought it prudent to warn
|
|
her about the transporter.
|
|
|
|
"Others will be arriving in a few moments. They are here to help. You need
|
|
not fear them. Will you guide us after they come?"
|
|
|
|
She lifted her gaze to his, searching his face with her eyes. Slowly she
|
|
nodded, then dropped to her knees and settled back, as if to wait there. He
|
|
saw no reason for her not to wait where she pleased, and crouched down to
|
|
her level.
|
|
|
|
"You have courage. That is good."
|
|
|
|
She dropped her eyes with a human child's shyness, and shrugged, then the
|
|
transporter's chiming tones began and her gaze ranged past him, to widen in
|
|
awe. Worf saw her make a peculiar motion with one hand, and edge into the
|
|
shadow of the passage as he turned to meet his crewmates.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Etain watched nothing solidify into something, and become five men. She gaped
|
|
like an idiot, and involuntarily made the sign against evil, something she had
|
|
not done since she was a child. Once they had fully formed, the tallest of
|
|
them, a dark-bearded man nearly as tall as the Fierce-one, whose only analog
|
|
in her knowledge lay in ancient tales of trolls and spirits, stepped forward
|
|
and began to speak with her companion in quiet, clipped tones.
|
|
|
|
All were clothed as Picard, though in differing colors. Two of the newcomers
|
|
wore gold the color of old leaves, the same color the Fierce-one wore. Two
|
|
wore night-sky-blue, and carried between them a strange sled-shaped object
|
|
which seemed to float, as they appeared to bear none of its weight. The tall,
|
|
bearded one wore crimson, like Picard. She wondered what the colors
|
|
signified, if anything. She scanned them quickly, and to her relief found no
|
|
animosity there, only anxiety, and flaring hope.
|
|
|
|
After a moment, the bearded-one turned his scrutiny to her. He studied her for
|
|
several moments, too long, it felt to her. One eyebrow lifted in a way very
|
|
unlike Picard's; though the action was the same, the intent was not.
|
|
Something about this expression made her slightly uncomfortable. The smile
|
|
which curved the man's mouth did little to erase her discomfort as he
|
|
extended his hand, but his voice was even and pleasant when he spoke, and
|
|
his words to the point.
|
|
|
|
"I'm Commander Riker. I understand you know where the Captain is?"
|
|
|
|
She nodded, and briefly touched her fingers to his in greeting, wishing they
|
|
would hurry up and let her take them to Picard. She had been in the open far
|
|
too long for comfort, and a knot of fearful anticipation had begun to writhe
|
|
and coil in her stomach. Impatiently, she gestured for them to follow her.
|
|
The bearded-one, Riker, turned to his companions.
|
|
|
|
"The stretcher won't fit. Worf and I will go down and see if we can bring him
|
|
up without it. Wait here, stay alert, and if you haven't heard from us in
|
|
fifteen minutes, come in after us... armed."
|
|
|
|
Etain bristled. Armed? Did they think she led them into a trap? It was they
|
|
who endangered her, not the other way. She seethed for a moment before she
|
|
realized that unlike herself, they had no way of knowing her sincerity. They
|
|
were merely cautious, as she would be in their place. She let the anger flow
|
|
away and started down the tunnel, trusting them to follow.
|
|
|
|
Sudden light filled her eyes and she winced from its brilliance, turning to
|
|
find its source. The one called Riker held a small sun in his hand, the glow
|
|
too bright for her to look at directly. He turned it away from her, and she
|
|
could see the light emanated from a small box.
|
|
|
|
"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."
|
|
|
|
The Fierce-one appeared to understand her reaction better. From behind
|
|
Riker his low, resonant voice filled the corridor.
|
|
|
|
"It is a mechanical device, a... cold torch."
|
|
|
|
She nodded. Like the globes near the city, though much brighter. A helpful
|
|
device for those unused to the dark. Turning back, she resumed the lead.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Picard heard them long before he saw them. They made far more noise in the
|
|
passage than Etain ever did. The low register of one of the two male voices
|
|
he heard was so familiar that he never doubted the identity of its owner.
|
|
Worf. His relief at hearing that voice was so intense that it startled him.
|
|
He thought he had been dealing with his situation fairly well, but his earlier
|
|
mood and his feelings now told him otherwise. All he could think about was
|
|
getting back to the ship.
|
|
|
|
He was surprised when Etain appeared first, familiar bare feet dangling over
|
|
the edge of the low drop before she slid into the chamber. Had she brought
|
|
them? His question was forgotten as first Riker, then Worf entered. Their
|
|
size made the chamber seem even smaller than usual.
|
|
|
|
Riker stood for a moment, staring at him with a peculiar mix of relief, anger
|
|
and apprehension on his face. Picard was reminded that he wanted to look at
|
|
the log-tape of Riker's return to the ship. That was the expression he really
|
|
wanted to see.
|
|
|
|
"Number One," he said quietly, acknowledging Riker's presence.
|
|
|
|
"Captain... it's good to see you."
|
|
|
|
"Likewise, Number One."
|
|
|
|
Riker nodded, and after a moment began to speak. "Captain, I..."
|
|
|
|
"Forget it, Will. These things happen now and then. And you as well,
|
|
Lieutenant Worf. If I insist on haring off without informing you, you cannot
|
|
be expected to properly fulfil your duties."
|
|
|
|
Both officers nodded, but he expected to have to deal with totally unfounded
|
|
mea culpas from each of them at a later time.
|
|
|
|
"I am curious as to why it took so long for you to locate me."
|
|
|
|
Riker shook his head. "A combination of things, really. Sensor-opaque
|
|
materials in the soil, and a ninety-eight percent human population among
|
|
them. We still wouldn't have found you if we hadn't had help. Here, I
|
|
believe this is yours." Riker held out Picard's combadge.
|
|
|
|
Picard took it from him with a grin. "Diplomatic of you not to mention the
|
|
fact that I lost my combadge like a first-year cadet. At any rate, I'm
|
|
pleased to see you both. There are things I need to attend to."
|
|
|
|
"Yes sir." Riker hesitated a moment, then plunged on. "The woman indicated
|
|
that you might be injured..."
|
|
|
|
"A broken ankle, yes, however it's not too bad now, Etain's worked on it quite
|
|
a bit."
|
|
|
|
Amused by his first officer's look of relief, Jean-Luc stood, balancing
|
|
gingerly on his uninjured foot, accepting Riker's offer of support. As he
|
|
turned to thank Etain for her help, he suddenly realized she was not there.
|
|
She must have gone while he had been speaking with Riker.
|
|
|
|
He immediately understood why she had left. He had hurt her, and she
|
|
wanted him gone. Enough to risk going above and finding someone to take
|
|
him. The thought was not a pleasant one. He had a feeling that he had just
|
|
made a rather vital error. At the moment, he could forsee no particular
|
|
consequences, but the feeling was there, nonetheless. He couldn't even leave
|
|
her a note apologizing, since she could not read. The only apology he could
|
|
possibly offer was to get to the bottom of whatever was going on, and do
|
|
something for her, and her people. He sighed, and shook his head.
|
|
|
|
"Something wrong, sir?" Riker inquired, concerned.
|
|
|
|
"Just my own ineptitude, I'm afraid, Number One."
|
|
|
|
Riker lifted an eyebrow, glancing over to where the woman had stood
|
|
moments earlier, and frowned. "She's gone."
|
|
|
|
Worf nodded. "She left as you were speaking." his voice sounded vaguely
|
|
puzzled. "Should I have detained her?"
|
|
|
|
Picard shook his head. "No, you did right. All she did was try to help. She
|
|
poses no threat at all, not to us at any rate. Shall we?"
|
|
|
|
"We're not sure if we'll be able to beam up from here, or if we'll have to go
|
|
to the surface first, but we'll give it a shot," Riker touched his combadge.
|
|
"Enterprise, come in."
|
|
|
|
There was a moment's pause, then a startled sounding O'Brien replied.
|
|
"Enterprise here sir, we are receiving you, and we have a clear signal."
|
|
|
|
"Three to beam up."
|
|
|
|
"Aye, sir. Energizing now."
|
|
|
|
The last thing Picard saw before the transporter effect obscured his vision
|
|
were the handprints on the wall.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Etain listened to Picard and the others making their loud noises in her long-
|
|
quiet world. She crouched in a side passage, and refused to give vent to the
|
|
feelings stirring and twisting inside, hoping that if she did not acknowledge
|
|
them, they would go away. The distress she felt was unpleasantly similar to
|
|
the way she had felt twenty winters since, the day the Darkmind took away
|
|
what was left of the RuaShi. This time the pain was of her own making. She
|
|
had allowed herself to care, and in so doing, had given her curse a chance to
|
|
work yet again. She had wondered if it had gone away, but it was clear now
|
|
that it had not. Instead, everything she cared about went away.
|
|
|
|
The Fierce-one had moved to stop her from leaving, and she had gone Inside,
|
|
into his mind, to remove the impulse and make him let her go. She had never
|
|
done such a thing before, never made another obey her will. Mhaiv had
|
|
taught her that to use that path led to soullessness. She begged silent
|
|
forgiveness of him, hoping he understood her need. She could not stay to
|
|
watch, to feel the friendship that flowed between Picard and the Bearded-one,
|
|
Riker. She had felt only the slightest touch of that, and craved it like she
|
|
sometimes craved green growing things, and sunlight.
|
|
|
|
She waited until the sounds had died away completely before she returned to her
|
|
nest. It was quiet, and empty, as it had always been. She sat down and stared
|
|
around, trying to reaccustom herself to the lack. She felt tired, as if she
|
|
had been days without sleep, as if she had Healed. Stretching out, she tried
|
|
not to notice that the cushions were a little warm, and still held a scent
|
|
other than her own; and closed her eyes.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
It seemed only a little while later when the sound of footsteps and low male
|
|
voices woke her. She sat up, smiling, wondering why they had returned, but
|
|
not displeased. Light poured into the chamber from the passage and blinded
|
|
her for a moment. As she blinked, trying to see past the glare someone spoke,
|
|
and an unfamiliar voice wrapped fingers around her heart and squeezed.
|
|
|
|
"Well now, what have we here? A Halfling who's a bit more than half. How
|
|
did you escape the net, sweetheart?"
|
|
|
|
She rolled to her knees, her hand trembling on the hilt of her blade. She
|
|
didn't reach out. She didn't need to. The Darkmind's servants had found her.
|
|
The feeling she had ignored today had not been entirely her own pain. Her
|
|
meager fore-sense had tried to warn her. A second voice sounded,
|
|
whispering something to the first, who laughed.
|
|
|
|
"Yes, perhaps Coran should have let the girls grow up. They might have had
|
|
their uses, if they had turned out like this one. Ah well, too late. Come on,
|
|
we've work to do."
|
|
|
|
The light moved, finally, revealing not two, but four, and another just
|
|
entering the chamber. Loosening her blade in its sheath, she invoked the
|
|
Hunter as they moved toward her; she could not take all of them, but with
|
|
His help perhaps she could mark a few before she fell.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Cool, silver walls came into being around him, carpeted floor vibrating almost
|
|
imperceptibly beneath his feet. Picard felt the tension in his shoulders fade
|
|
for the first time in three days. He took a breath, testing the scent of the
|
|
air. Home. Enterprise; intact; peaceful. He felt the covert hum of her power
|
|
singing through him and acknowledged, yet again, that no flesh and blood
|
|
female would ever hold the same fascination for him. His sense of rightness,
|
|
of well-being was so intense that he forgot and took a step unaided, but when
|
|
he did so, pain reminded him and he stopped, teeth set. Etain had worked
|
|
wonders with his ankle, but it could not yet bear his full weight. The nearest
|
|
of the sickbay tables was several meters away.
|
|
|
|
Worf put out a hand as if to help, then hesitated. Suspecting some obscure
|
|
Klingon custom held him back, Picard spoke to put him at ease.
|
|
|
|
"I would be glad of your assistance, Lieutenant."
|
|
|
|
"Certainly, sir."
|
|
|
|
Worf stepped forward, both hands extended. Picard, realizing his intent,
|
|
quickly shook his head.
|
|
|
|
"I believe I can walk, with support, Lieutenant."
|
|
|
|
Worf nodded, and dropped one hand, extending his arm instead. Picard was
|
|
once again reminded of a lion, not an inapt simile in either temperament or
|
|
appearance. Worf was leonine by nature.
|
|
|
|
Picard leaned on Worf's proffered arm, stifling a sigh of relief. The thought
|
|
of his crew's reaction to his being carried by his security chief was not one
|
|
he cared to experience. Beverly Crusher exploded into the room, her face tight
|
|
with concern. She searched his face, looking for... something, he wondered
|
|
exactly what. He found an impulse within himself to avoid her gaze, feeling
|
|
a slight flush. She looked away, seeming a little highly-colored herself. He
|
|
resisted shaking his head. That quiet mutual attraction was still there,
|
|
sublimated nearly into extinction by both of them, but definitely still there.
|
|
Beverly suddenly cleared her throat and pulled her professional demeanor
|
|
around herself like a cloak.
|
|
|
|
"Would you help the Captain onto the diagnostic table, please, Lieutenant?"
|
|
|
|
Worf did as she had asked, then with a nod to the captain, left the room.
|
|
Beverly picked up a scanner and turned toward him.
|
|
|
|
"So, what seems to be the problem?"
|
|
|
|
He nearly chuckled at her words. So... physician-like. "I 'seem' to have
|
|
broken my ankle."
|
|
|
|
"Ah." She passed her scanner over his leg, read it, frowned, then repeated the
|
|
action. After reading the second scan, she looked up, her expression troubled.
|
|
|
|
"Jean-Luc, I know damn well you did not leave this ship with a broken ankle,
|
|
but this reading is of an injury several weeks old, not several days old! Did
|
|
someone down there use a regenerator on you?"
|
|
|
|
"In a manner of speaking. The woman who helped me is a healer."
|
|
|
|
"A what?"
|
|
|
|
"She uses psionic power to speed recovery."
|
|
|
|
Beverly frowned. "Unusual. Are you certain she didn't use a regen unit?"
|
|
|
|
"Absolutely. She also has a rather unique method of psionically blocking
|
|
pain."
|
|
|
|
"Interesting. I've heard of such things, even seen a few. Most of the real
|
|
ones could not have done something as extensive as this, and many of those who
|
|
claim such abilities are frauds."
|
|
|
|
"I assure you, Beverly, she's no fraud. There is no way she could have faked
|
|
this. She doesn't have access to the technology."
|
|
|
|
Beverly scowled, obviously not convinced. "Well, she seems to have done
|
|
well enough, as far as she went. Everything is where it's supposed to be, and
|
|
healing nicely. An hour or two with a slow fusion unit and you'll be as good
|
|
as new," she passed the scanner over the rest of him before looking up again.
|
|
"And it seems that, apart from your ankle, you're as healthy as the proverbial
|
|
horse. Stay put, I'll be right back."
|
|
|
|
As she walked around the corner, he turned to Will Riker.
|
|
|
|
"Fill me in, Number One."
|
|
|
|
"Yes sir. The Halvami claim that it was an anti-Federation terrorist faction
|
|
who attacked you."
|
|
|
|
"However, you suspect otherwise." Picard read, filling in the unspoken.
|
|
"Why?"
|
|
|
|
Riker rubbed his ear, looked uncomfortable, and shrugged. "I'm not sure.
|
|
Intuition?" he said, finally.
|
|
|
|
"Intuition, Number One? Isn't that Counselor Troi's domain?"
|
|
|
|
Riker's smile flashed whitely in the darkness of his beard. "Yes sir, but
|
|
since she's not here at the moment..."
|
|
|
|
"It's a dirty job, but someone's got to do it?" Picard finished, amused.
|
|
|
|
"Something like that, sir." Riker was smiling as well, sharing the old
|
|
metaphor's banality.
|
|
|
|
"So. Any evidence?"
|
|
|
|
"No, none, apart from our earlier suspicions about slavery. I was hoping you
|
|
might be able to shed some light on the matter."
|
|
|
|
"Mmm." Picard frowned thoughtfully at his hands for a moment, then looked
|
|
up. "I would say that your intuition is correct, Number One, however I have
|
|
somewhat more reason to suspect them. I was told that Coran Delvekia
|
|
would be behind any attack."
|
|
|
|
"Told, sir? By whom?"
|
|
|
|
"By Seret Ng. I am certain she would be willing to testify."
|
|
|
|
"Seret Ng? I'm sorry, but Seret Ng is dead. Ostensibly of heart-failure
|
|
during the attack on you."
|
|
|
|
Picard stiffened, then shook his head regretfully. "Damn, I was afraid of
|
|
that. And she was our only witness, no, wait. Perhaps there is another."
|
|
|
|
"Who?"
|
|
|
|
"The young woman who brought you to me. She has knowledge of the
|
|
events Seret Ng was trying to tell me about when we were separated."
|
|
|
|
Riker nodded, frowing. "I see. Would she be willing to speak before a
|
|
Federation Council meeting?"
|
|
|
|
"I don't know. It could be difficult. She, like all the others of her kind,
|
|
is mute, and neither reads, writes or signs in any recognized language."
|
|
|
|
Riker looked puzzled. "Then how did she tell you?"
|
|
|
|
"She may be mute, but she communicates, after a fashion. It's rather like
|
|
playing charades, with a lot of contextual reading and a good deal of
|
|
guesswork. She is also a receptive telepath, and I suspect she augments her
|
|
attempts to communicate with projective telepathy as well. There were times
|
|
I understood her, and I'm still not sure how I did."
|
|
|
|
"I see." Riker mused thoughtfully for a few seconds, then looked up, a gleam
|
|
in his eye. "Since she's telepathic, we could bring up Lieutenant T'kar.
|
|
She's been on Halvam doing that sociological study you asked for, but aside
|
|
from Deanna she's the best we have."
|
|
|
|
Picard searched his memory, and a face clicked into place. T'kar. Vulcan, a
|
|
specialist in xeno-sociology and psychology. Her psi ratings were very high,
|
|
among the highest in the fleet. She had been one of three finalists for his
|
|
Ship's Counselor position. Starfleet, deciding that his natural tendency
|
|
toward non-emotion needed no reinforcing, had assigned him someone with
|
|
more 'emotional depth.'
|
|
|
|
Despite offers from several other ships, T'kar had chosen to remain aboard
|
|
the Enterprise where she felt she had more potential for contact with
|
|
previously unknown species.
|
|
|
|
"As I recall, most Vulcans prefer not to use their mental abilities in cross-
|
|
species interaction, the emotional levels apparently being unsettling to them;
|
|
however, as she was up for the Counselor position, Lieutenant T'kar may
|
|
have fewer reservations about such things than normal. Good suggestion,
|
|
Number One, please ask her if she would be willing to work with Etain in this
|
|
matter."
|
|
|
|
"Etain? Unusual name."
|
|
|
|
"Yes, it is." Beverly Crusher said as she reentered the room carrying a
|
|
portable slow fusion unit. She sat down on the edge of the table with her
|
|
back to Picard and began fitting it around his injured ankle. "It's Gaelic, I
|
|
believe. I remember my Grandmother telling us Old Earth fables as a child,
|
|
Etain's among them. She was supposed to have been the most beautiful
|
|
woman in all of Ireland, as well as one of the bravest." She paused for a
|
|
moment, then went on with studied casualness. "Does she resemble her
|
|
namesake?"
|
|
|
|
"As a matter of fact, she does." Picard said, quietly.
|
|
|
|
"Oh?" she breathed softly, tightening the closure of the device with
|
|
unnecessary roughness. Picard winced, then a second later a barely
|
|
perceptible smile curved his mouth.
|
|
|
|
"In fact, she reminded me quite strongly of another red-headed healer I know
|
|
in a number of ways."
|
|
|
|
Riker grinned broadly for an instant, then hid it quickly behind his hand as he
|
|
feigned scratching his nose. The doctor swung around to stare at Picard.
|
|
|
|
"Red-headed?"
|
|
|
|
Picard nodded. "Mmmhmm."
|
|
|
|
Beverly stared at him for a moment. "What ways?"
|
|
|
|
"Pardon?"
|
|
|
|
"In what ways did she remind you of m... of this other 'healer'?"
|
|
|
|
Picard studied the ceiling nonchalantly, considering. "Hmm, bedside
|
|
manner, perhaps."
|
|
|
|
Riker took a step back, then another. Picard shot him a look that called him a
|
|
coward quite eloquently, and he stopped.
|
|
|
|
"I see." She said after a moment, her eyes flashing. "I suppose I shouldn't
|
|
ask if that is a positive or a negative comparison."
|
|
|
|
"Oh, positive, of course."
|
|
|
|
"Of course." The fire in her eyes softened. She knew she was being baited,
|
|
and chose not to rise to it. "You stay put until I tell you that you can go."
|
|
|
|
Picard frowned. "And how long will that be?"
|
|
|
|
"An hour at least. After that, we'll see."
|
|
|
|
"Doctor Crusher, I have work to do!"
|
|
|
|
"Do it from here. You're not moving without my permission."
|
|
|
|
With a sigh Picard sat back, reflecting that Beverly and Etain certainly did
|
|
have similar dispositions, at least as far as their patients were concerned.
|
|
He didn't like it. He had a growing feeling that something was very wrong, and
|
|
felt he needed to be on the bridge, or at least doing something active. With a
|
|
long-suffering glance at his first officer he shrugged.
|
|
|
|
"Well, Number One, it looks like you'll have the conn a little longer. Contact
|
|
Lieutenant T'kar, see if she is willing to help us with Etain. As I recall,
|
|
there is legal precedent for the use of telepathic depositions."
|
|
|
|
Riker nodded. "Assuming she agrees, where will I find Etain?"
|
|
|
|
"The same place you found me. That is her home."
|
|
|
|
Riker stared at him, a frown etching its way across his face. Picard's earlier
|
|
unease deepened, this time with a specific subject. Something was wrong
|
|
with Etain.
|
|
|
|
"What is it, Will?"
|
|
|
|
"Data mentioned that the Halvami were tracking our transporter activity. At
|
|
the time, I didn't think it unusual, but..."
|
|
|
|
The unease solidified into real fear. "My God, if she's right about them, and
|
|
they know where I was, they'll be after her..."
|
|
|
|
"My thoughts exactly."
|
|
|
|
"Get her, Number One, now."
|
|
|
|
"On my way."
|
|
|
|
As Riker strode out, Picard looked down at his ankle and cursed softly.
|
|
Beverly looked at him and frowned.
|
|
|
|
"You think they would harm her? For sheltering you?"
|
|
|
|
"Absolutely. Unless she was lying to me, neither she nor any of the other
|
|
'servants' were born mute. She told me they were surgically modified to
|
|
prevent them from speaking. If they would do that to a child, what would
|
|
they do to an adult?"
|
|
|
|
"My God, Jean-Luc... a child?"
|
|
|
|
He nodded. "She was probably ten or twelve at the time. She doesn't
|
|
remember exactly how old she was when it happened, and seems to have had
|
|
no formal education at all."
|
|
|
|
"How old is she now?"
|
|
|
|
He shrugged. "I'm not certain, twenty-five, at a guess, judging from physical
|
|
signs alone."
|
|
|
|
"Fifteen years?" Beverly said, aghast. "Fifteen years with no means of
|
|
communication? That's inhuman!"
|
|
|
|
He nodded grimly. "I agree. Unfortunately it is all too probable."
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Riker chose Worf and two other security officers, Johnson and Narat as the
|
|
additional members of his away-team, issued phasers, and transported back
|
|
down to the culvert where the entrance to Etain's dwelling was located. The
|
|
concealing screen-boulder was gone, leaving the opening obvious. Worf
|
|
studied the ground for a moment, frowning.
|
|
|
|
"There were many men here, after we were. Their boots have a different sole
|
|
construction."
|
|
|
|
Riker winced internally, and took a deep breath. "Well, come on."
|
|
|
|
Worf posted Narat to guard the entrance to the tunnel, then preceded Riker
|
|
into the the access tunnel, Johnson bringing up the rear. As a precaution, they
|
|
did not use their lights, and the darkness was so complete Riker could not
|
|
even see his hand in front of his face. He wondered how Worf could
|
|
remember which turns to take. As they reached the end of the tunnel, Worf
|
|
growled, the sound low and chilling.
|
|
|
|
"What is it?" Riker whispered, waiting for the Klingon's reply before turning
|
|
on the light. If there was anyone there, he didn't want to alert them too soon.
|
|
|
|
"Blood." Worf hissed back. "Blood, and fear."
|
|
|
|
"Life-form readings?"
|
|
|
|
A greenish glow lit Worf's face, momentarily rendering him an ebony
|
|
gargoyle as he quickly checked his tricorder. "One, very faint. About a meter
|
|
and a half to our left."
|
|
|
|
"Damn." Riker switched on his light, and its brilliance actinic after the
|
|
darkness.
|
|
|
|
He squinted, and as his eyes adjusted he saw that the small room was a
|
|
shambles, barely resembling the orderly habitation he had seen before. He
|
|
began to pick his way through the mess toward where Worf had picked up
|
|
the reading, still blinking from the sudden brightness. Worf put a hand on
|
|
his shoulder, stopping him, then pointed, his expression even more grim than
|
|
usual. Riker looked, and for a moment saw nothing. Then it registered.
|
|
Johnson gagged, turning away.
|
|
|
|
"Oh my God..." he said softly, closing his eyes for a moment, but only a
|
|
moment; then he punched his combadge.
|
|
|
|
"Riker to O'Brien."
|
|
|
|
"Here, sir."
|
|
|
|
"Four to beam up, on my signal, directly to sickbay; we have a medical
|
|
emergency."
|
|
|
|
"Standing by, sir."
|
|
|
|
Riker knelt beside her, and tried to figure out how best to pick her up. Worf
|
|
put a hand on his shoulder, and shook his head.
|
|
|
|
"Leave her so. Moving her might... damage her further."
|
|
|
|
Riker laughed harshly. "I fail to see how she could get much more 'damaged',
|
|
but I'll take your advice." He touched his combadge again.
|
|
|
|
"Now, Mr. O'Brien."
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Picard heard O'Brien relay the 'medical emergency' message and went cold,
|
|
somehow certain that none of his crew were injured. That left only one
|
|
possibility. The certainty was curious, but seemed to go with his earlier
|
|
conviction that something was wrong with Etain. He tried to prepare himself
|
|
mentally, but nothing could have prepared him for what materialized on the
|
|
sickbay floor between his officers; or for the stunning wave of guilt he felt,
|
|
knowing that if she hadn't helped him, it would not have happened. He
|
|
heard Beverly Crusher gasp, obviously shocked, but she recovered instantly
|
|
and was on the floor beside Etain in seconds, her face set and grim as she
|
|
worked. Riker moved over to Picard, shaking his head.
|
|
|
|
"I'm sorry, sir. We were too late."
|
|
|
|
Picard nodded, curtly, acknowledging without blame. "We need Lieutenant
|
|
T'kar. Find her."
|
|
|
|
Riker nodded and left, Worf followed him. After a few moments, Beverly
|
|
stood up.
|
|
|
|
"There are no spinal injuries, get her on the table fast. Chisholm, Frey, we
|
|
need full life-support fields, now! And get her typed, her blood looks odd,
|
|
she's probably not human, so we need to know what she is."
|
|
|
|
With a quick nod, Frey hurried away. Two other staffers lifted Etain onto the
|
|
central table. Beverly took a deep breath, then turned to face Picard, her
|
|
face stark with anger.
|
|
|
|
"How could one sentient being could do that to another! What kind of
|
|
animals are we dealing with here?"
|
|
|
|
"The worst kind... those who know what is right, and yet consciously choose
|
|
to ignore it. How bad is she?"
|
|
|
|
"Bad. She's in shock, massive internal bleeding, damage to liver, spleen and
|
|
kidneys, broken ribs, punctured lung, both arms fractured just above the
|
|
wrists... odd, that."
|
|
|
|
Picard shook his head. "Not so odd," he lifted his arms in demonstration, as
|
|
if to protect his face. "...they're probably defensive injuries."
|
|
|
|
"Def... of course. I should have guessed. Another peculiarity, no head
|
|
injuries, save some minimal bruising and abrasions."
|
|
|
|
"Deliberate, I'm sure. They intended for her to remain conscious for as long
|
|
as possible."
|
|
|
|
The doctor looked sick for a moment, then looked to where her people were
|
|
preparing Etain, and her expression became even bleaker.
|
|
|
|
"Jean-Luc, she wasn't lying about not being congenitally mute, someone did a
|
|
very thorough job of assuring her silence. Not only were her vocal cords
|
|
removed, but the vocal nerves were deliberately destroyed as well. She
|
|
couldn't even use a voder."
|
|
|
|
"Damn. I was hoping for that option."
|
|
|
|
"Whoever silenced her knew what they were doing. It was no amateur job."
|
|
|
|
He nodded. "I understand. That's in the past, though. For now, will she
|
|
live?"
|
|
|
|
"Honestly... I don't know. Right now, the odds aren't good. A lot depends on
|
|
her. From what you've said, she seems to be a natural survivor. That may
|
|
make the difference."
|
|
|
|
He nodded, looked down at his ankle, then looked up again. "Take the regen
|
|
unit off."
|
|
|
|
"Jean-Luc, I told you... " His gaze locked with hers, and her voice trailed
|
|
off. After a moment, she nodded. "It might help. You're the only person on
|
|
the ship she knows. Studies have shown that patients sometimes respond
|
|
positively to a familiar presence even when deeply unconscious. But you
|
|
must promise to complete the treatment later."
|
|
|
|
"As soon as I can," he agreed.
|
|
|
|
She leaned down and shut the device off, removed it, and helped him over to
|
|
where Etain lay. Grabbing a lab stool, she pushed him down onto it and
|
|
stepped back.
|
|
|
|
"Just try to stay out of the way."
|
|
|
|
Picard nodded. "Of course."
|
|
|
|
She turned away and began to arrange her instruments. Picard looked at
|
|
Etain, and winced. She looked worse up close. There probably wasn't a full
|
|
centimeter of her body not bloody, bruised or abraded except for her face.
|
|
Even that was not entirely untouched. Feeling ill at ease, he cleared his
|
|
throat.
|
|
|
|
"Etain, you're aboard the Enterprise. My people are helping you." As he said
|
|
it, he wondered if it was a lie. He wasn't sure they would be able to.
|
|
|
|
There was no response, not that he had really expected one. He looked up,
|
|
saw Beverly watching him. He lifted his hands, helplessly. She nodded
|
|
encouragement. He tried again. "Etain, can you hear me?"
|
|
|
|
Was it his imagination, or did she stir for a moment? He couldn't read the
|
|
medical scanners, so he didn't know if her condition had changed. Her face
|
|
was not peaceful; her pain showed even through her unconsciousness.
|
|
Damn! The whole situation was his fault. His incurable curiousity had
|
|
involved her in the first place, and his thoughtlessness had subjected her to
|
|
this.
|
|
|
|
He had been too elated by the prospect of going home to make sure she was
|
|
in no danger. She had seemed agitated when she brought Worf and Riker,
|
|
had she suspected? God... had she known? Could she be precognitive too?
|
|
Telepathic, empathic, a healer, and a precog? He'd never heard of one person
|
|
having so many metafunctions, but he supposed it was possible. He rubbed
|
|
his forehead.
|
|
|
|
"Etain, I'm sorry."
|
|
|
|
He didn't imagine it this time. She arched, as far as the life-support device
|
|
would allow, her face contorted with pain. Her eyes opened, met his. Almost
|
|
imperceptibly she shook her head. Simultaneously, the field-generator
|
|
alarms sounded. Her eyes closed, her body went limp, and something...a
|
|
presence he had not even been aware of until that moment faded from his
|
|
mind. The medical team began working even more frantically. He didn't
|
|
have to be told what had just happened. He knew. Angry, as he always was
|
|
when someone he felt responsible for died, he leaned forward and touched
|
|
Etain's face.
|
|
|
|
"Damn it Etain, I did not give you permission to leave!" he hissed.
|
|
|
|
He felt no response, no stirring. Beverly's face was intent as she worked, not
|
|
sparing a glance at him. He closed his eyes.
|
|
|
|
"Etain, please, I would not have your death on my conscience," he said softly,
|
|
trying to shove the guilt feelings down to where they did not interfere with
|
|
his thinking.
|
|
|
|
Beneath his fingers he felt her shudder. At the edge of his consciousness he
|
|
felt that odd... awareness return. Once more her eyes opened, locked with his.
|
|
She was back. He took a deep breath, only then realizing he had been
|
|
holding it. The alarms subsided.
|
|
|
|
"We got her!" Beverly crowed, triumphantly. "Lock it down... and where the
|
|
hell's that blood survey I asked for?"
|
|
|
|
Two voices spoke at once, conflicting.
|
|
|
|
"I can't seem to..."
|
|
|
|
"My God... she's conscious!"
|
|
|
|
Beverly whirled. "She's what?" she demanded. "That's impossible..." she
|
|
began. The tech interrupted her.
|
|
|
|
"Look at her scan-patterns... look at her face!" he insisted, his own face
|
|
pale, shocked.
|
|
|
|
The doctor looked, swore, and grabbed for a hypo. "The pain must be
|
|
intolerable! How can she possibly... never mind. I just hope this works."
|
|
|
|
The hypo hissed against the side of Etain's neck. Picard watched her eyes go
|
|
unfocused, then drift closed as the medication took effect. Beverly sighed.
|
|
|
|
"That's done it, thank God! I've never seen anyone resist a sedative like that.
|
|
I gave her enough to put Worf under! Now, where's her typing information,
|
|
Frey?"
|
|
|
|
The technician standing by the genetic analyzer spoke, his expression
|
|
sheepish. "I can't seem to get this thing to work."
|
|
|
|
Beverly huffed, irritated. "For heaven's sake Bill, it's a simple enough
|
|
procedure, for all that we don't have to use it very often! Here, let me do
|
|
it." She walked over to where he stood, inserted the sample, pressed a few
|
|
keys and waited, tapping her foot impatiently. After a moment the machine's
|
|
small screen lit up. She read the display, and scowled.
|
|
|
|
"'Species and genotype unknown'?" she snapped at the silent machine.
|
|
|
|
Frey looked smug. "That's what it keeps telling me."
|
|
|
|
""Damn it, that's all I need! Frey, go down to Bio for comparisons, I need a
|
|
full work-up, and fast... she's stabilized, but I need to get her plasma levels
|
|
up before we can really work on her, and if it isn't soon, we may lose her
|
|
again!"
|
|
|
|
Frey nodded, retrieved the sample from the machine and dashed out with it.
|
|
Beverly pushed her hair out of her face and scowled at Picard.
|
|
|
|
"There's more to this one than meets the eye, Jean-Luc. What is she?"
|
|
|
|
"I don't know. We may be dealing with a prime directive violation. I believe
|
|
her people are native to this world."
|
|
|
|
"Native to Halvam? But how could the surveys have missed them? How
|
|
could we have established a colony on a world already posessing sentient
|
|
life?"
|
|
|
|
"I don't know, but I intend to find out." He frowned, remembering the
|
|
sensation of presence/not-presence he had experienced moments earlier and
|
|
frowned.
|
|
|
|
"Beverly, is it possible to... develop metafunctions, spontaneously, at my age?"
|
|
|
|
Her gaze narrowed. "Under certain circumstances... why?"
|
|
|
|
"Because a few moments ago, when Etain 'died', I felt it, here." he touched
|
|
his forehead. "Considering the fact that I've always scored in the lowest
|
|
percentiles for metafunction, I found that rather odd."
|
|
|
|
"You didn't get hit on the head down there did you, or suffer some sort of
|
|
severe emotional distress?"
|
|
|
|
"No. Why?"
|
|
|
|
"Because those are the two occurrences which most commonly trigger latent
|
|
metafunctions into operancy."
|
|
|
|
Picard shook his head. "Neither of those things occurred. I will admit to being
|
|
concerned, and a trifle annoyed, but that hardly qualifies as severe emotional
|
|
distress."
|
|
|
|
"No, it doesn't," she lifted her scanner and examined him for a moment, then
|
|
shook her head. "Your readings are perfectly normal, I see nothing to account
|
|
for the change. If it keeps up, we can re-test you, see if you really are going
|
|
operant."
|
|
|
|
He nodded, frowning, not liking the thought that something unknown was
|
|
taking place in his mind. His attention was momentarily distracted when the
|
|
doors opened and Riker appeared, escorting a Vulcan woman in Sciences teal.
|
|
He recalled her instantly: T'kar. Surprisingly small for a Vulcan, she was
|
|
shorter than he. Overlarge eyes in a heart-shaped face managed
|
|
simultaneously to convey both impassivity and concern. Unlike the usual
|
|
serviceable Vulcan hairstyle, she wore her glossy black hair in a braided
|
|
coronet. Before the doors had completely closed behind them, the medtech,
|
|
Frey came barrelling through, his expression very disturbed.
|
|
|
|
Picard held up a hand to forestall any words from Riker or T'kar, and nodded
|
|
toward Frey. His information had a more urgent priority.
|
|
|
|
"Your report?" Beverly queried.
|
|
|
|
"You're not going to like it," he said unhappily. "We ran the sample three
|
|
times, and all the readings were the same: 'Species and genotype unknown'.
|
|
Then Barak tested for common hybrids, and got a partial confirmation on the
|
|
Vulcan-Human template... but, and this is the really weird thing... it gave us
|
|
a massive evolutionary distortion factor, somewhere in the neighborhood of
|
|
three to four thousand years! I don't understand how that's possible!"
|
|
|
|
"It isn't," Beverly snapped. "Give me that, I'll do it myself."
|
|
|
|
"Wait..." All eyes turned toward the Vulcan woman who stood beside Riker.
|
|
"May I?" she asked.
|
|
|
|
Beverly sighed. "Why not? Everyone else has! Meanwhile, since it's obvious
|
|
that we're never going to get a match on her, let's whip up a compatible
|
|
synthetic and get to work. We've got a lot to do."
|
|
|
|
As the team of physicians moved away, T'kar took the sample and inserted it
|
|
into the machine, touched a few keys, then turned to Picard, gesturing toward
|
|
Etain.
|
|
|
|
"Is she the person from whom the sample was obtained?" she asked.
|
|
|
|
"It is."
|
|
|
|
"Will it cause any harm if I touch her?"
|
|
|
|
"I wouldn't think so, why?"
|
|
|
|
"I am curious..." She leaned over and cautiously lifted Etain's hair away from
|
|
one ear, then nodded, as if in confirmation.
|
|
|
|
Picard was startled. In three days of close quarters, he had not noticed that
|
|
Etain had pointed ears, and the slight upward slant of her brows had been
|
|
enough within human norms for him to ignore, since she lacked the
|
|
distinctive physiognomy and coloration of a full Vulcan. The discovery did
|
|
help explain why he had thought her fey, and, now that he thought of it, her
|
|
use of the mind-meld. T'kar looked up at him.
|
|
|
|
"Commander Riker indicated that you spent considerable time in her
|
|
company. Did she demonstrate an unusual degree of metafunction?"
|
|
|
|
Jean-Luc's eyes narrowed, startled. He nodded slowly. "Yes."
|
|
|
|
"Which talents?"
|
|
|
|
"Healing, empathy, and telepathy. I suspect she may also have some degree
|
|
of prescience, but I have no direct evidence of that."
|
|
|
|
T'kar's nodded thoughtfully, then walked to the scanner and read the results
|
|
on the small screen. She shook her head. "I thought the legends were just
|
|
that... but here is what seems to be proof," she said softly, obviously
|
|
speaking more to herself than to them.
|
|
|
|
"What legends, Lieutenant?" Picard prompted.
|
|
|
|
T'kar took a deep breath and turned to face him. "It is difficult to
|
|
explain... there are so many of the old tales I do not know, but we have a
|
|
legend about beings like this. What I recall of it also mentions the
|
|
Preservers."
|
|
|
|
Picard frowned thoughtfully. "The semi-mythical beings who appear to have
|
|
devoted their time to spreading early sentient life-forms among the habitable
|
|
worlds in our galaxy?"
|
|
|
|
T'kar nodded. "The same. What I recall of the legend indicated that a
|
|
Preserver vessel may have come to Vulcan thousands of years ago, and from
|
|
a blending of its... cargo and native Vulcans, a group of mixed-species beings
|
|
were generated who manifested extraordinary metapsychic abilities, almost
|
|
from birth. It also mentioned that nearly all of them were 'fire-colored'..."
|
|
she pointed to Etain, "...like her. No doubt that was part of the reason for
|
|
the persistence of the legend. Hers is the rarest of colorings among Vulcans.
|
|
Only two percent of our population even carries a recessive for it. To
|
|
Vulcans, a population of red-haired beings was quite remarkable."
|
|
|
|
"Interesting. You believe that legend in some way relates to Etain?"
|
|
|
|
"It seems likely. It would certainly explain both her genetic makeup, and the
|
|
evolutionary distancing reported by the analyzer. The legends are quite old."
|
|
|
|
"An interesting theory. However, it does not explain how she, or the others
|
|
for that matter, came to be here."
|
|
|
|
"Was she born on Halvam?"
|
|
|
|
"To the best of my knowlege, yes; also, she told me that her people were
|
|
resident on Halvam before the colonists arrived."
|
|
|
|
T'kar's eyebrows went up. "Fascinating. I will have to consult the computer
|
|
for the full text of the legend, as I was never told its conclusion. One
|
|
thing is clear, she is obviously of the same species as the Halvami workers;
|
|
the phenotype is quite recognizable... as if it sprang from a closed genetic
|
|
pool...." T'kar was quiet for a moment, then looked up, her eyes lit with an
|
|
un-Vulcan intensity. "Captain, I would like permission to return to Halvam and
|
|
attempt to obtain genetic samples from some of the others who resemble her."
|
|
|
|
"Permission granted... after we are certain your services will not be needed
|
|
here, Lieutenant. Has Commander Riker explained what we may need you to
|
|
do?"
|
|
|
|
She shook her head. "Not fully, Captain. He said you may need my
|
|
telepathic ability, but not in what capacity."
|
|
|
|
Picard straightened, lacing his fingers together; a clear indication of
|
|
discomfort to Riker's experienced eye.
|
|
|
|
"What I ask may be difficult for you. I have only the word of a human
|
|
woman, Seret Ng, for what occurred, and she was silenced before she could
|
|
testify. None of the surviving natives, save Etain, have much knowlege of
|
|
what happened, as most were too young to remember. We may need you to
|
|
go into her mind to document the occurrence."
|
|
|
|
T'kar nodded. "It is a difficult request, but I understand its necessity.
|
|
Should she die, you have no witness. I am prepared to do as you ask."
|
|
|
|
"Thank you, Lieutenant. Number One, arrange an away team including Lieutenant
|
|
T'kar to be dispatched after Etain is stabilized." He did not allow
|
|
himself to mention the other possibility. "Send full security, plus someone
|
|
from medical to perform the genetic testing... and don't alert the Halvami that
|
|
you're coming. Let's see if we can catch them with their (proverbial) pants
|
|
down."
|
|
|
|
Riker grinned and nodded. "I will see to it personally, sir."
|
|
|
|
"These humans who were brought to Vulcan, have your legends any record of
|
|
what they called themselves?" Picard asked T'kar, curiously.
|
|
|
|
She shook her head. "I am afraid I do not know. As I said, I never learned
|
|
the full text of the old stories, as I never thought to need them. I will
|
|
access them and report back to you."
|
|
|
|
"Very good, Lieutenant." Picard watched the group surrounding Etain for a
|
|
moment, then turned back to T'kar. "Lieutenant T'kar, is it possible that
|
|
Etain knows the Vulcan self-healing trance?"
|
|
|
|
T'kar shook her head. "I believe not. It is a relatively recent development,
|
|
only a thousand years old. Even if she is of Vulcan descent, I doubt they
|
|
would know the skill."
|
|
|
|
"Could you teach it to her?"
|
|
|
|
T'kar tilted her head slightly to one side, almost quizzically. "I am not
|
|
certain. I could attempt it. It would require the mind-meld, and there could
|
|
be danger in using it in such a situation."
|
|
|
|
"What sort of danger?"
|
|
|
|
"The meld is quite stressful for both parties. She may not be strong enough to
|
|
absorb the shock of the intrusion. There is also the possiblitity that if she
|
|
were to worsen while we were linked, I could be drawn down with her.
|
|
However, I believe it would be worth the risk, if I could help her."
|
|
|
|
"I appreciate your help. Etain may be stronger than we think. A few moments
|
|
ago, she... died, for a few seconds, I felt it happen. I also felt her return.
|
|
She willed herself back. The fact that I did feel it was remarkable, as it is
|
|
a type of awareness I have never had before."
|
|
|
|
T'kar's eyes narrowed. She reached toward his face, then abruptly stopped,
|
|
dropping her hand. "Forgive me. That was rude. May I see what sort of
|
|
connection there is?"
|
|
|
|
Picard nodded, and T'kar put her fingers on his face in a startlingly familiar
|
|
gesture. He braced for the expected surge of sensation, but it did not come.
|
|
Instead, a distant coolness seemed to spread from her hand. He was aware of
|
|
her presence, but not at all in the same way that he had been aware of Etain
|
|
under similar circumstances. After a moment she drew back, and was silent
|
|
for several moments. Finally, she looked up.
|
|
|
|
"You have a remarkably well-ordered mind, for a human. Have you studied
|
|
on Vulcan?"
|
|
|
|
He shook his head. "No, I regret I never had that opportunity, although..." he
|
|
smiled drily, "...I have been asked that question before. What did you find,
|
|
aside from that?"
|
|
|
|
She looked at him enigmatically for a moment, then shook her head. "There is
|
|
a connection; but I cannot explain it, for I have never seen its like. It is
|
|
as if she left something in you, almost like a catalyst which works to enhance
|
|
your own natural abilities."
|
|
|
|
"What sort of abilities?" Picard asked, skeptically.
|
|
|
|
"Empathy. I would speculate that if we administered the Reich series now,
|
|
your scores in empathic metafunction would be considerably higher than
|
|
normal."
|
|
|
|
Her words confirmed his own suspicions. He scowled. The thought that his
|
|
mind had been tampered with, no matter how altruistically, was offensive to
|
|
him. In addition, he strongly suspected that increased empathy might
|
|
negatively impact his ability to make the more difficult decisions he
|
|
sometimes had to make. His face must have betrayed his thoughts, for T'kar
|
|
spoke again, gently.
|
|
|
|
"She has not significantly altered your mind, Captain. It is simply an
|
|
enhancement of your natural abilities. It is quite harmless. In fact, it
|
|
should be studied, to see if the technique is viable for other species. Still,
|
|
if you wish, I believe it could be removed."
|
|
|
|
He thought about it for a moment, then shook his head. "Leave it, for now. It
|
|
may be useful. Can you help her?"
|
|
|
|
Slowly, she nodded. "It is possible, but we must wait until the Doctor has
|
|
completed her work, and Etain is as stable as possible."
|
|
|
|
"Of course." He resisted looking at Etain again, instead turning his attention
|
|
to Riker.
|
|
|
|
"Any thoughts, Number One?"
|
|
|
|
"If her people were here before the colony, it seems odd that no one reported
|
|
their presence earlier. Could the preliminary survey teams have missed a
|
|
native population?
|
|
|
|
Picard sighed. "During our initial colonization period, some were not
|
|
particularly scrupulous about planetary surveys, or the prime directive.
|
|
Etain's dwelling was underground, and shielded by sensor-blocking
|
|
elements. If the pre-existing population lived in similar underground areas,
|
|
they might not have been detected by a standard survey at all."
|
|
|
|
"But how could the colonists have hidden a native population for so long, and
|
|
so successfully? Surely, if nothing else, one of the 'natives' would have
|
|
contacted the Federation."
|
|
|
|
"Conceivably they were not advanced enough to understand it was possible,"
|
|
T'kar offered.
|
|
|
|
"Or perhaps they were simply afraid to." Picard said softly. "They seem to
|
|
have been actively repressed by the colonists. As I told you earlier, Etain
|
|
was not born mute. Nor, I suspect, were any of the others. They were
|
|
systematically deprived of all effective means of communication, probably in
|
|
order to prevent word-of their plight reaching the proper authorities."
|
|
|
|
"If Colonial Affairs hasn't done a sociological study of Halvam for twenty-five
|
|
years, I wonder when their last Evaluation was?" Riker asked grimly.
|
|
|
|
Picard stared at his first officer for a moment, then he nodded. It was a good
|
|
idea. "Find out, Number One, and I want to see that report."
|
|
|
|
"Yes, sir!"
|
|
|
|
"Captain," Beverly Crusher's voice sounded strained, tired.
|
|
|
|
He turned. Her fine-boned, feline face was pale, and the normally invisible
|
|
lines around her mouth pulled downward. She pushed a strand of auburn
|
|
hair irritably out of her eyes. For just a moment he was pushed back years,
|
|
and he saw her face after he told her about Jack. He shook off the unpleasant
|
|
memory and brought himself back.
|
|
|
|
"We've done what we can. She'll live, barring complications, but it's going to
|
|
be a long, difficult recovery. We couldn't use regen stimulants because we've
|
|
no idea how her body would react to them, and we couldn't do transplants
|
|
because her tissue doesn't match anything we've got on hand. We've taken
|
|
samples for cloning, but it will be months before the replacements will be
|
|
ready... providing the samples respond positively to the cloning medium in
|
|
the first place. We don't generally have any problem cloning either Vulcan or
|
|
Human tissue, but who knows about a fusion of the two?" She sighed and
|
|
shook her head. "We're going to have to do things the old-fashioned way for
|
|
a while."
|
|
|
|
"The old-fashioned way?" Riker prodded.
|
|
|
|
"Mechanical support. Periodic dialysis, that sort of thing. Not pleasant."
|
|
|
|
"No, it doesn't sound like it." Picard said quietly.
|
|
|
|
T'kar stepped forward. "I may be able to help. I would like, with your
|
|
permission, to attempt to induce a healing-trance in your patient."
|
|
|
|
Beverly brightened visibly. "That could be an immense help, if she responds
|
|
at all similarly to a Vulcan."
|
|
|
|
"I do not know if it will be successful, but I believe it is worth the attempt.
|
|
Captain, you say she has demonstrated healing abilities, were you the
|
|
subject?"
|
|
|
|
"I was."
|
|
|
|
"May I access your memory of how she did so?"
|
|
|
|
He thought about it for a moment, finally nodded. "I suppose so, but I must
|
|
warn you, it is rather... unsettling, even for a human, used to the sort of
|
|
sensations evoked. I suspect you will find it even more so."
|
|
|
|
T'kar was obviously puzzled. "It was unpleasant? Painful?"
|
|
|
|
He had to smile. "No, precisely the opposite. Which is why I think it will be
|
|
difficult for you."
|
|
|
|
T'kar's eyebrows drew down, and she stared at him for a long moment.
|
|
Finally she nodded. "I believe I understand. I will be prepared."
|
|
|
|
Once more she placed her fingers on his face, and coolness invaded his mind.
|
|
Picard found himself reliving the first time Etain had used her talent on him.
|
|
He heard a startled hiss of breath, and the contact was abruptly broken off.
|
|
He opened his eyes and found a very flustered-looking T'kar avoiding his
|
|
gaze. He chuckled.
|
|
|
|
"I warned you."
|
|
|
|
She nodded gravely. "You did, and I thank you. As you said, it is quite
|
|
unsettling. I have never encountered such an unusual method of relieving
|
|
pain."
|
|
|
|
"Nor had I," he admitted, wryly.
|
|
|
|
"What are you talking about?" Beverly Crusher asked, more than a little
|
|
suspiciously.
|
|
|
|
T'kar shook her head. "It is not something one can easily describe."
|
|
|
|
Picard silently thanked whatever deity ruled close calls. He really didn't
|
|
want to go into the precise nature of the side-effects of Etain's healing
|
|
abilities.
|
|
|
|
"Oh," The doctor's expression was decidedly put out. She tossed her hair in a
|
|
familiar gesture of irritation, and shrugged. "Well then, if you will excuse
|
|
me, I'm going to my office to update today's log entries."
|
|
|
|
"Of course," Picard said charitably, trying not to betray his relief. The
|
|
situation was rife with possibilities for awkwardness, none of which he cared
|
|
to incur.
|
|
|
|
Beverly walked away, not quite stomping, but almost. At times her familial
|
|
resemblance to her son could be quite pronounced. He turned back to T'kar.
|
|
|
|
"Thank you for your diplomacy, Lieutenant. Were you able to learn what you
|
|
needed?"
|
|
|
|
"I believe so. What she uses what may eventually have become the self-
|
|
healing program, overlaid with a neural shunt which reroutes pain impulses
|
|
into pleasure. It should be easy enough to show her how to alter the program
|
|
to heal herself, rather than another. It amazes me that she is able to use it
|
|
on another, it must take both an extraordinarily strong projective ability, and
|
|
a great deal of energy to use it. I know of no full-Vulcan who would be able
|
|
to make it work. Her mental assay must be quite remarkable, if she can do
|
|
this, and is both a projective and receptive telepath as well. You said you
|
|
believed she might also be precognitive?" Picard nodded response, and she
|
|
shook her head. "As I said, remarkable. I can attempt the meld now, knowing
|
|
what I must show her."
|
|
|
|
Picard felt a surge of relief. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
|
|
|
|
"If there is any change for the worse in her condition while I am working,
|
|
break the contact by moving my hands from her face. If that doesn't bring me
|
|
out, you may have to strike me, quite forcefully. Do not be afraid to do so;
|
|
you cannot hurt me. If nothing goes wrong, the procedure should take only a
|
|
few moments to complete, so if I should remain in the meld for longer than
|
|
ten minutes, you must bring me back."
|
|
|
|
"I understand. Is that all?" Picard asked, having expected something more
|
|
involved.
|
|
|
|
T'kar nodded. "It is." She looked toward the table where Etain lay.
|
|
|
|
Picard's eyes followed her gaze, saw a technician monitoring the readouts
|
|
carefully.
|
|
|
|
"Shall we proceed?" she asked.
|
|
|
|
"If you are ready."
|
|
|
|
"I am. Do you need help? I sensed that she had not had time to complete the
|
|
healing."
|
|
|
|
He nodded ruefully. "Correct. Until I can find a free hour to use the regen
|
|
unit, I'm still an invalid of sorts."
|
|
|
|
He stood; she moved his chair, then aided him to it. He was surprised by her
|
|
lack of reticence toward being touched. Most Vulcans he had known
|
|
conscientiously avoided being touched, or touching. T'kar seemed to have many
|
|
mannerisms that were almost human. He wondered if long exposure to humankind
|
|
accounted for her atypical behaviour. He watched her settle onto the edge of
|
|
the table, and place her hands carefully on Etain's face, T'kar's long fingers
|
|
framing Etain's closed eyes as she found the contact-points she sought. T'kar's
|
|
eyes closed as well, and for a moment her face was serene, masklike; then
|
|
reflected agony etched across it and she moaned. He almost reached to pull her
|
|
hands away, but her eyes opened and she spoke.
|
|
|
|
"No, not now. If she can bear it, I can. A moment, and I will try again."
|
|
T'kar took several deep, steadying breaths, and closed her eyes again. Once
|
|
more she winced, but this time was silent. After a moment her expression
|
|
smoothed out as she mastered the pain.
|
|
|
|
"Computer, mark time, signal at ten minutes," he said quietly, then sat back
|
|
to watch. The technician moved closer, obviously curious. After a moment
|
|
he whispered.
|
|
|
|
"May I ask what she's doing?"
|
|
|
|
Picard glanced at him, recalling that his name was Torrez. He nodded. "She
|
|
is attempting to teach your patient how to use the Vulcan self-healing
|
|
program."
|
|
|
|
"Interesting. I've heard of the mind-meld, but never seen it in action before."
|
|
|
|
"I have. I've even experienced it." Picard recalled Sarek with a certain
|
|
feeling of sadness. It was a shame that such a fine man should be afflicted
|
|
with what amounted to senility, with no hope of cure.
|
|
|
|
They both watched. After a few moments, Torrez leaned over and checked
|
|
some readings, looking surprised. "Well, she seems to be succeeding. Vitals
|
|
just improved significantly, and the pain indicators are dropping off."
|
|
|
|
"Good."
|
|
|
|
Torrez straightened, turned away, then back. He stared at the monitor and
|
|
whistled softly. "I think I'd better call Dr. Crusher. She'll want to see
|
|
this."
|
|
|
|
"See what?" Picard demanded.
|
|
|
|
"Not even a Vulcan heals this fast! My God, you can practically see it
|
|
happening even without the monitors! Excuse me..." he smacked his
|
|
combadge. "Dr. Crusher, report to sickbay immediately."
|
|
|
|
"Acknowledged."
|
|
|
|
The doctor was in the room almost before the final syllable had cut off. She
|
|
conferred with Torrez, scanned the monitors, used a hand-scanner and shook
|
|
her head, her expression one of disbelief. She looked up toward the ceiling.
|
|
|
|
"Computer, begin full medical report logging immediately. All available
|
|
enhancements."
|
|
|
|
Turning to Picard, she shook her head. "I've never seen anything like this!
|
|
It's practically magic! If I wasn't seeing it with my own eyes, I wouldn't
|
|
believe it! Look... " She pointed to an ugly sepia and indigo bruise on
|
|
Etain's shoulder. "Watch it for a moment." As he watched, the bruise grew
|
|
progressively lighter, fading from a dark palm-sized mark, to pale greenish
|
|
one, simultaneously diminishing in size. It did not disappear entirely, but
|
|
as she had said, the improvement was almost supernatural.
|
|
|
|
"The same thing's happening inside," Beverly said excitedly, leaning down to
|
|
study a display, "slower, probably because the damage there is so much more
|
|
extensive."
|
|
|
|
T'kar shuddered suddenly, breaking the contact, and Beverly moved quickly to
|
|
help her sit up. Her hands fell limply to her sides for a moment, then she
|
|
lifted them to her face and sat like that, silent, for several seconds.
|
|
Finally she let her hands drop once more and she stood, swaying a little.
|
|
Beverly put a hand on her shoulder, steadying her.
|
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|
|
"Are you all right, Lieutenant?" she asked, lifting her scanner.
|
|
|
|
T'kar took a deep breath and nodded. "Physically, yes. It is difficult, to
|
|
become another. Especially such another. Such talent..." She broke off and
|
|
turned to Picard, her face strained with uncharacteristically Vulcan
|
|
vehemence. "Captain, she must be trained! Even without training she has
|
|
abilities we never thought possible. We cannot send her back to that place, to
|
|
the things she has endured--it would be inhuman!"
|
|
|
|
Picard held up his hands in a gesture of pacification. "I have no intention of
|
|
returning her to Halvam... not under the present circumstances, at least. But
|
|
explain, please, what do you mean 'she must be trained'?"
|
|
|
|
T'kar assumed a very straight, intense posture, leaning forward slightly. "To
|
|
let someone as exceptional as she is go without learning is a crime. She is
|
|
already so far beyond even the best of us in metafunctions that she is a
|
|
considerable resource. With education, she would be priceless. She took
|
|
what I showed her, and even in her present state, was able to alter it, improve
|
|
it, and you see the result." She waved a hand toward Etain, shaking her head.
|
|
|
|
"Lieutenant T'kar, are feeling well? You seem... overwrought," Beverly
|
|
asked, obviously as taken aback as Picard was by the level of emotion the
|
|
Vulcan woman displayed.
|
|
|
|
T'kar looked from one to the other, and seemed to shiver for a moment. She
|
|
closed her eyes, and opened them a moment later. "Forgive my unseemly display
|
|
of emotion. I have not yet fully reintegrated. To some extent, it is her
|
|
fear speaking. She is terrified that she will be sent back."
|
|
|
|
Beverly looked puzzled. "You sound as if she were fully aware. How could
|
|
you tell that from someone under sedation?"
|
|
|
|
T'kar frowned slightly. "Until this moment I had not thought it odd, but in a
|
|
way she is conscious. It is as if her mind operates in disconnection with her
|
|
body. Your drugs seem to have isolated her conscious mind from her
|
|
external awareness, but logical thought continues. I do not know if it is
|
|
characteristic of her species, or a talent she alone has produced."
|
|
|
|
"Conscious, under fifteen cc's of clophine? I'd say it was impossible, but a
|
|
lot of impossible things seem to be happening around here today. I thought her
|
|
brain-activity seemed high, but since we're dealing with an unknown... this is
|
|
one for the textbooks."
|
|
|
|
"In more ways than one, I suspect," Picard said. "Thank you, Lieutenant, for
|
|
your efforts. I understand how difficult it is for you, having experienced a
|
|
mind-meld once myself. I hope that I will not need to ask such a service of
|
|
you again. You are free to go, and when you feel recovered, check with
|
|
Commander Riker about that away-team you requested."
|
|
|
|
T'kar inclined her head. "Thank you, sir. I will report my findings back as
|
|
soon as possible."
|
|
|
|
"Not as soon as possible, Lieutenant." Picard said gently, trying not to push.
|
|
Her emotional state was obviously fragile at the moment. "Please give
|
|
yourself a little time to rest first."
|
|
|
|
T'kar nodded stiffly. "As you wish, sir."
|
|
|
|
Picard thoughtfully watched her go then turned toward Beverly. "Doctor, I
|
|
have a great deal of work to do. Will you allow me to work in my quarters,
|
|
and use the regen-unit there?"
|
|
|
|
Beverly surveyed him skeptically. "Only if you swear you won't move while
|
|
it's on. I don't want to have to re-break your ankle so it will heal properly."
|
|
|
|
Picard winced. "You have my word, Doctor. I've no wish to undergo such a
|
|
procedure."
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
______________________________________________________________________________
|
|
copyright 1992, Kellie Matthews-Simmons
|
|
matthews_k@cubldr.colorado.edu//matthewk@spot.colorado.edu
|
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all rights reserved
|
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Standard Disclaimers Apply
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Status: RO
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From: JULIA@Jetson.UH.EDU
|
|
To: jfy@cis.ksu.edu
|
|
Subject: (TNG) Silence, A Novel by Kellie Matthews-Simmons, Part 6
|
|
Date: Tue, 31 Aug 1993 12:43:59 -0500 (CDT)
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CHAPTER SIX
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|
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Although she had been self-aware all along, awareness of externals returned
|
|
to Etain gradually. She first heard the mutter of unfamiliar voices, then
|
|
smelled the strange, sharp, inorganic scent of the air, sensed a firm yet
|
|
peculiarly yielding surface beneath her, and felt the softness of an unfamiliar
|
|
fabric against her skin. She ached a little. Hoping to make some sense of the
|
|
unusual sensations, she opened her eyes and blinked at the brightness. After
|
|
a moment, her eyes adjusted. The light in the room was bright, yet strangely
|
|
soft. She found herself gazing up at a smooth, featureless expanse of cool
|
|
grey.
|
|
|
|
Unimpressed, she turned her head, and saw a wall of glossy darkness, like
|
|
obsidian, broken intermittently by small colored lights which seemed to move
|
|
and change. Strangely, that black sheened wall seemed familiar. What did it
|
|
remind her of? She searched for the memory, but could not seem to find it.
|
|
After a moment, she knew where she was - the recollection of Picard's words
|
|
gave her that much, but even that knowledge did little to help suppress the
|
|
stirring tendrils of fear she felt. She was alone and disabled in a place of
|
|
the Tall-Ones. Lifting herself a little, she discovered that she lay naked on
|
|
a raised platform, covered by a thin, soft cloth of deep maroon shot through
|
|
with metallic threads. She couldn't imagine anyone using such a rich fabric
|
|
for anything as ordinary as a blanket! She sat up, letting the cloth fall away
|
|
so she could look at herself. Cautiously, almost with awe, she touched one of
|
|
the faded greenish-brown bruises which practically covered her body, bruises
|
|
which just hours earlier had been nearly fatal injuries.
|
|
|
|
The one who had come into her mind had been female, but she had been too calm,
|
|
to precise, too... perfect. Etain could not understand such serenity, and even
|
|
feared it a little, but the gift which the cool-minded one had given her was
|
|
priceless. Why had she never thought of it before? So simple! She touched
|
|
her throat, wondering if it was possible, after so long, to restore what
|
|
the Tall Ones had taken from her. If she could restore her own voice, she
|
|
could restore the others! She knew she had no energy to even attempt it now,
|
|
but someday she would try.
|
|
|
|
Looking down, she wondered why people would choose to sleep so far off the
|
|
ground. She would never be able to sleep now, for wondering when she was going
|
|
to fall. Cautiously she dangled her legs over the edge of the platform and
|
|
slid the short distance to the floor. Coming upright made her very aware that
|
|
she was stiff, and sore. Not really in pain, not like before, but not normal
|
|
either. Indecisively she stood beside the table-like bed, wondering what to do
|
|
next. Whatever it was, she could not remain here, in this cold, lifeless,
|
|
too-bright, too-large place. She felt small and very alone, and though she
|
|
told herself it was nonsense, she was afraid. She could sense many, many minds
|
|
here, too many, and she knew none of them, save Picard. She had to find him.
|
|
|
|
Being practical, she realized she needed something to wear; unfortunately,
|
|
she had no idea where to find her clothes. After a moment she picked up the
|
|
blanket, wrapped it around from back to front, crossed the ends and tied them
|
|
at the nape of her neck. She was pleased with the result, finding it a far
|
|
more appropriate use for the fabric. Feeling less vulnerable clothed, she
|
|
closed her eyes and let her othersense range outward, seeking the one
|
|
familiar presence she knew she would find in this strange place.
|
|
|
|
It was only a few seconds before she sensed him, his mind-pattern familiar but
|
|
quiet. He slept. Not terribly far, but farther than she had hoped. His...
|
|
ship, Enterprise he had called it, was unfamiliar to her. Finding him would
|
|
be difficult. She moved cautiously to the open doorway of the room and looked
|
|
out. There were many Tall-Ones in the adjacent room, all busy with various
|
|
obscure things. All wore the same style of clothing as Picard, though all those
|
|
she saw here were in a blue the color of the night sky, rather than the
|
|
blood-color of his. She realized she would stand out terribly. There was only
|
|
one way to pass them without their knowing it, she would have to go Unseen.
|
|
That thought relieved her. She didn't so much mind that her clothing had
|
|
been taken, but she did miss her knife. To go unarmed amidst so many
|
|
strangers felt wrong, even though no one else she saw appeared to be armed,
|
|
and the fit of their clothing left few places to conceal a weapon.
|
|
|
|
She stood quietly and watched the strangers for a time, to see how they
|
|
moved, where they went, what they did. She was amazed by the outer door,
|
|
which seemed somehow to understand when a person wished to pass and
|
|
opened of itself. She hoped it would not sense that she did not belong, and
|
|
not allow her to pass. Though these folk did not have the Mindways, they
|
|
obviously had other ways just as mystical. Finally, she felt she could wait no
|
|
longer without risk of discovery. After a little while, she chose a female who
|
|
was close to her own size and coloring, and went inside her, letting herself
|
|
absorb the other's purpose, matching her breathing, her movements and
|
|
mannerisms, until she almost was the other. Then, holding that essence
|
|
before her like a shield, she stepped out.
|
|
|
|
Quickly and with determination she crossed the room and approached the
|
|
arcane doorway. To her great relief it opened, admitting her to a broad,
|
|
bright corridor where many beings walked purposefully toward unknown
|
|
destinations. No one challenged her. Her sense of relief was so great she
|
|
almost stumbled, her bare feet unused to the soft, strange texture of the
|
|
flooring. She had done it. She was free. Now, to find Picard.
|
|
|
|
She found a doorway to stand in and stood for a moment in search, sensing
|
|
direction, and then began to walk. With few exceptions, all the people she
|
|
saw were taller than she was. Some of them were very odd to look at, having
|
|
peculiar features like those of a cat, or lizard, some had oddly colored skin.
|
|
Once she saw a man whose ears and brows were much like her own, but she
|
|
could sense that he was not Rua'Shi, but instead like the Cold-One. To her
|
|
surprise she saw children. She had thought that there would only be adults
|
|
on this ship that sailed the stars.
|
|
|
|
Never had she been forced to remain in the presence of so many for so long
|
|
before. Fortunately, most of them ignored her, though a few, primarily
|
|
males, stared at her. That scrutiny made her breath come shallow, and
|
|
caused uncontrollable tremors to race her spine. She had learned there was
|
|
reason to fear males far more than females. She felt surrounded,
|
|
claustrophobic for the first time in her life despite the open breadth of the
|
|
corridor. She clung to the presence she sensed, the only being she had felt
|
|
truly comfortable with since... She stopped that thought abruptly, not
|
|
wanting to remember how it had once been. It was too painful.
|
|
|
|
Once more ducking into one of the many recessed doorways, she closed her
|
|
eyes, reaching out, searching for well-hidden warmth, like a coal under ashes.
|
|
She found him. He was... below? Not far, but definitely down. How could
|
|
he be down? She had seen no stairs, no ladders, no tunnels. She had walked
|
|
a long way since leaving the place where she had awoken. The structure
|
|
must be far larger than it appeared if there were more levels to it. From her
|
|
niche, she observed the comings and goings of the structure's inhabitants,
|
|
hoping to gain a clue from one of them. She supposed it was possible that
|
|
they possessed a Talent she lacked, and were able to teleport themselves from
|
|
level to level, but she had sensed very little Talent in any of them. Only the
|
|
Cold-One had possessed anything she considered true ability, and hers was
|
|
quite limited. Perhaps they were somehow shielded.
|
|
|
|
After a little time had passed, she noticed a small room at the end of the
|
|
corridor whose doors opened and closed, admitting and expelling folk; but
|
|
those who exited were never the same as those who entered, even though the
|
|
room appeared to have no other exit. She recalled seeing such rooms before,
|
|
on Home; they traveled up and down, carrying passengers. She smiled,
|
|
pleased with herself for having found the answer, but that still left
|
|
unanswered the question of how it functioned. The next time it opened, she
|
|
followed the person into the room. The other woman looked at her, and a
|
|
small smile curved one corner of her mouth. Etain suspected it was her
|
|
clothing which caused the smile, but there was little she could do about it.
|
|
|
|
"Rough night, eh?" her fellow-traveler queried.
|
|
|
|
Though she did not understand the comment, Etain nodded, hoping that
|
|
would be sufficient. The woman nodded back, and spoke again, as if to a
|
|
third person, though none was present.
|
|
|
|
"Deck three, please."
|
|
|
|
At her words, the room began to move. Etain forced herself to stand still, and
|
|
not grab the hip-level rail which surrounded the room, pretending that it was
|
|
commonplace for a room to move. She realized with exasperation that they
|
|
were ascending, not descending. The ship must be huge, for it to have levels
|
|
both above and below. Only a few seconds later the room stopped moving,
|
|
and the doors opened. She followed the woman out, waited a moment, then
|
|
stepped back in.
|
|
|
|
She studied the room carefully, in growing despair. Was speaking the only
|
|
way to make it move? If so, she was trapped until someone happened to go
|
|
to the level she needed. It was impossible! Were there none among these
|
|
beings who lacked speech? Was there no other way to make the room move?
|
|
A voice spoke, out of nowhere, female, and oddly toneless.
|
|
|
|
"Destination please?"
|
|
|
|
She jumped, gasped, and stared around, putting her hands to her throat as if
|
|
to force sound from it. None came, of course. Was someone watching her? If
|
|
so, why did they not come to her assistance? In frustration she struck out,
|
|
smacking her hand painfully against an inscribed metal plate.
|
|
|
|
"Deck four, acknowledged," the voice replied as she sucked at her scraped
|
|
knuckles. The room began to move downward. The plate her hand had
|
|
collided with glowed softly. The motion slowed, stopped, and the doors
|
|
opened on the hallway where she had stood a few moments earlier. She
|
|
began to smile. Boldly, she touched the next plate in the series. The doors
|
|
closed, and the downward motion resumed. When the doors opened, she
|
|
scanned, and knew she was still too high. She moved her hand lower,
|
|
touched a plate several steps down from the lighted one. This time when the
|
|
doors opened, she stepped out, following the mental signature she held in her
|
|
mind. This level was quieter, few others roamed the wide hall to intimidate
|
|
her. Stopping periodically to close her eyes and search, she walked the long
|
|
curve of the passageway, finally stopping before a closed door.
|
|
|
|
He was there, just a few feet away, behind the door. Cautiously she put her
|
|
hands against the cool metal and jumped back, startled, when it parted with a
|
|
soft hiss. She had not expected it to be so easy. It seemed beyond
|
|
understanding that a place existed where people slept without concealing
|
|
themselves for protection. She stepped into the room, and the door slid
|
|
closed behind her. The room was easily twice the size of her nest, and
|
|
another opening implied a second chamber beyond the first.
|
|
|
|
The chamber was oddly shaped, higher at the entryway than at the edge. The
|
|
ceiling curved and became wall, then floor at the far edge. There was, to her
|
|
mind, a great deal of furniture, all of it sleek, made of metal, glass, cloth,
|
|
and a smooth gray-beige substance which resembled leather, though she could
|
|
detect no scent of cured hide in the air. Here and there small lights shone,
|
|
green, red, blue, yellow; she did not know their purpose, but they were
|
|
attractive. From overhead a faint glow lit the room, with the brightness of
|
|
one or two candles. A painting on one wall showed a strangely shaped object
|
|
silhouetted against stars. She wondered if it depicted the structure within
|
|
which she now stood. She had understood that the Enterprise, as he called it,
|
|
was a vessel which rode not water, but space, such as the one the Shining
|
|
Ones had used. Her curiosity faded. He was not there, so he must be in the
|
|
adjoining room. Cautiously she crossed to the doorway which held no door,
|
|
and froze, staring.
|
|
|
|
What held her panicked gaze was the fiery brilliance of stars which seemed to
|
|
float past the window above where he slept. They were so close, so bright, not
|
|
at all as they appeared in the teal-shaded night sky she was familiar with.
|
|
The backdrop they glowed against was black, as black as the pupil of an eye,
|
|
with no hint of light beside the stars.
|
|
|
|
Etain shuddered, feeling cold and very small, disoriented by the sudden
|
|
realization that only a thin barrier lay between her and the cold emptiness
|
|
beyond. She looked away, deliberately veiling the sight. How could he deal
|
|
with that above his bed? How did one sleep knowing death waited so close?
|
|
No wonder he had not feared the darkness. She shivered again and, perching
|
|
a hip on his bed, reached down to touch his shoulder.
|
|
|
|
"What the hell?" he snapped, instantly awake and sitting up.
|
|
|
|
To her surprise, she sensed anger, irritation, surprise, none of which she had
|
|
expected. Fear flooded her, and instinctively she slid off the bed, into a
|
|
crouch on the floor, trying to think of a way to communicate her apologies.
|
|
She had not meant to anger him. She didn't want him to send her back to her
|
|
nest, where the Darkmind's servants might come and hurt her again. She
|
|
found herself shivering anew. He cursed softly, and stood, leaning down to
|
|
look at her more closely, then she felt the warmth of his hand on her arm as
|
|
he drew her to her feet. She avoided his eyes, not daring to reach out with
|
|
her othersense, fearing what she would find.
|
|
|
|
"Etain, I'm not angry with you, and I certainly won't harm you. You know
|
|
that. I was just startled. How did you get in here?"
|
|
|
|
She pointed toward the other room, and mimed the door opening. He
|
|
looked, then shook his head, chuckling.
|
|
|
|
"Wouldn't you know, the one time I forget to engage the privacy lock, I have a
|
|
visitor who doesn't know how to knock! How did you find me?"
|
|
|
|
She touched her forehead, then her ear.
|
|
|
|
"You 'listened' for me? It's a long way here from sickbay, and you're
|
|
unfamiliar with the ship, how did you manage? Oh, never mind, that's too
|
|
complex a question to answer, isn't it?
|
|
|
|
Etain nodded.
|
|
|
|
Jean-Luc sighed and put his hand on her shoulder. She jerked away, and
|
|
stared up at him, the expression on her face one he had never seen there
|
|
before. Just for a moment, she was plainly terrified of him, and there was
|
|
something else... an awareness he had never sensed from her.
|
|
|
|
He stared back, trying to understand why. She had never flinched from him
|
|
before. What had he done to evoke such a reaction? Simply touched her
|
|
shoulder. He looked at his hand, at her face, and with a sinking certainty he
|
|
knew. That awareness was sexual, something Etain had never evidenced
|
|
understanding of before. He closed his eyes momentarily, against the
|
|
realization. Apparently Beverly had left out something in her list of Etain's
|
|
injuries. And what she had omitted had changed their relationship, probably
|
|
irrevocably. Etain was conscious of him as male now, and because of what
|
|
had obviously happened to her, she would have a great deal of difficulty in
|
|
trusting a man.
|
|
|
|
He shook his head. "Ah, gods... that too? I didn't realize..." He looked
|
|
steadily at her. "Etain, you know I will not hurt you, you know that," he
|
|
said, with deliberate emphasis. "I will not touch you again without your
|
|
permission. You have nothing to fear from me, or from anyone aboard my
|
|
ship, I give you my word. Do you understand?"
|
|
|
|
She eyed him doubtfully, then slowly nodded, though his assurance did not
|
|
chase all the wariness from her eyes.
|
|
|
|
"I would ask you if you wanted to talk about it, but that wouldn't do much
|
|
good, would it?" he asked ruefully.
|
|
|
|
She shook her head and tried to smile in response. No smile came. He
|
|
waited for any further response, then, when none was forthcoming, he spoke
|
|
again.
|
|
|
|
"What can I do to help?"
|
|
|
|
For just a moment she lifted her eyes to his, looked away. She stared down at
|
|
her hands, which were shaking, and leaned forward in a futile effort to hide
|
|
the fact that there were tears sliding slowly down her face.
|
|
|
|
He almost reached out, but remembering his promise, stopped. The guilt was
|
|
back, full-force. Why hadn't he made sure she was safe?
|
|
|
|
"Etain, I feel that what happened to you is partly my responsibility. I should
|
|
have made certain that you were safe."
|
|
|
|
Etain blinked to clear away the tears, and looked at him, obviously puzzled.
|
|
She pointed at him, lifting her eyebrows.
|
|
|
|
"Me? Yes, me. I sensed something was wrong, but I did not bother to ask.
|
|
Did you know what would happen when I left?"
|
|
|
|
She frowned, and shook her head. Did he think she would have stayed to
|
|
face it, had she known? He must think her braver than she was! She had
|
|
sensed that something bad was going to occur, but not how bad. How could
|
|
it have been his fault? He had not called the pain-givers, he had not shown
|
|
them where to find her. As if reading her thoughts, he spoke again.
|
|
|
|
"They tracked our transporter beam to find you. When Riker told me they
|
|
had monitored our beam-up, I knew, and I sent him to find you, but by that
|
|
time it was too late."
|
|
|
|
His words penetrated her consciousness slowly. For a moment she didn't
|
|
understand, then she did. They would never have found her if not for him.
|
|
In essence, he had called them. She could not keep the feeling of betrayal
|
|
from showing in her face, and he flinched, much as she had moments earlier.
|
|
|
|
For a moment Etain felt the harsh burn of anger in her stomach, then she
|
|
realized that he could not have known, any more than she had. The failure
|
|
had been hers, she had not fought hard enough, or well enough. If not for
|
|
him, if he had not realized the danger and sent someone after her she would
|
|
be dead. She did not like the idea of being dead. What they had done to her
|
|
had been terrible, but the thought of death was worse. She knew death, she
|
|
had seen it, smelled it, felt it, hundreds of times. She shuddered,
|
|
remembering the Dying Time. If she died there would be no one left who
|
|
remembered, no one left to seek justice.
|
|
|
|
She took a deep breath, and reached for his hand, touched it to her forehead,
|
|
her lips and her breastbone, hoping he would remember the gesture. It
|
|
occurred to her that it was odd: as long as it was her choice, she did not mind
|
|
touching him.
|
|
|
|
Apparently he did remember. He let her guide his hand as she wished, and
|
|
then lifted it, palm out.
|
|
|
|
She pressed her palm against his, then let it fall.
|
|
|
|
"Thank you," he said quietly. "I appreciate your clemency."
|
|
|
|
She waved her hand, as if to say it was nothing. He shook his head.
|
|
|
|
"It was not 'nothing'." He turned and paced a few steps, then turned back to
|
|
her, his face set, unreadable.
|
|
|
|
"Etain, I want you to know that I understand, perhaps better than most. There
|
|
is something you must understand." he paused a moment, obviously trying to
|
|
choose the right words. When he finally spoke, it was almost a whisper. "It
|
|
was not your fault. Never think it, never believe it. That is not how it is
|
|
meant to be, and it was not your fault. No matter how well or how hard you
|
|
fought them, you would have lost, because there was no way out. There were too
|
|
many of them. The only blame attaches to them, not to you."
|
|
|
|
She stared at him, a faint frown creasing her forehead. How had he known?
|
|
How could he have known? He did not have Hearing. His only Talent was
|
|
Feeling, and little of that. Yet it was as if he had heard her thoughts of a
|
|
moment earlier. She extended her own Hearing and touched him, lightly,
|
|
then recoiled from what she found, shuddering, her hand involuntarily
|
|
touching her own face, feeling for the covering of cold metal, the invasive,
|
|
inhuman... things she had sensed in his mind, things she had no words for
|
|
and no concept of. He understood. The execution had been different, but the
|
|
result in many ways the same.
|
|
|
|
"Etain?" he queried softly.
|
|
|
|
She let her hand fall and met his gaze, trying to convey both sympathy and
|
|
regret.
|
|
|
|
"Different, but the same," he said evenly, again echoing her thoughts. "It is
|
|
not an easy thing."
|
|
|
|
She nodded. To her embarrassment, she suddenly began to yawn, and tried to
|
|
hide it. It seemed terribly callous to yawn after such a revelation. To her
|
|
relief he did not seem to mind, for he smiled.
|
|
|
|
"Tired? I'm not surprised. I take it you came here because you were
|
|
uncomfortable in Sickbay?"
|
|
|
|
Again, a nod, a rather vehement one. He chuckled.
|
|
|
|
"You're welcome to stay. I have bridge duty in a few minutes. Will you be
|
|
alright alone, or should I call someone to stay with you? Lieutenant T'kar
|
|
would probably be willing to come."
|
|
|
|
Etain gave him her standard 'I-don't-understand' look.
|
|
|
|
"Lieutenant T'kar?" he guessed. "She is the one who taught you the self-
|
|
healing program."
|
|
|
|
That triggered the image of the other, the Cool-one. She shook her head. She
|
|
would rather be alone than face that one. Besides, here in a small area with
|
|
low light and at least one familiar scent, she felt almost at home. She did
|
|
not think she would have trouble resting. Save for one thing. She looked up
|
|
at the stars, pointed, then put her hands over her eyes.
|
|
|
|
Picard chuckled. "They bother you, do they? It's a fairly common reaction.
|
|
Computer, opaque window plates please."
|
|
|
|
The sparkling vista faded to a solid dark gray, far more comforting than the
|
|
moving stars. She relaxed. Just as she began to sit down on his sleeping-
|
|
place, a platform at a more reasonable height than the one she had awakened
|
|
on, a loud chirping sound startled her, and she turned, seeking its source.
|
|
Seconds later, a female voice spoke, not toneless as the one in the moving
|
|
room had been. This woman sounded upset.
|
|
|
|
"Crusher to Picard."
|
|
|
|
To Etain's surprise, Picard grinned as he replied.
|
|
|
|
"Picard here. What is it, Doctor?"
|
|
|
|
"I don't know quite how this happened, and I assure you we're doing all we
|
|
can to find her, but our visitor seems to have disappeared from Sickbay."
|
|
|
|
Picard's clipped, severe tone was at odds with his amused expression as he
|
|
replied. "Disappeared? How?"
|
|
|
|
"I don't know yet. We had no idea that we needed to put a guard on her, and
|
|
since her condition was so good, I was only having a tech monitor her every
|
|
half hour. Apparently she simply got up and walked away, through a whole
|
|
roomful of people, none of whom noticed. We haven't found her yet, though
|
|
I really would have thought someone would have reported a naked woman
|
|
wandering the corridors by now."
|
|
|
|
Picard glanced at Etain, obviously wondering how he had managed to miss
|
|
that. Etain fingered the cloth she wore and smiled. He shook his head.
|
|
|
|
"She's not naked, Beverly. She's wearing one of your blankets."
|
|
|
|
"Oh, well that explains it th...." The voice trailed off without finishing,
|
|
then returned a moment later. "Jean-Luc, are you telling me you knew about
|
|
this already?"
|
|
|
|
"I could hardly help knowing about it Beverly. She's standing in my
|
|
quarters."
|
|
|
|
"She's... damn it, Jean-Luc, she's been there the whole time? And you let me
|
|
go through that?"
|
|
|
|
His smile went away. "It seems little enough for a chief medical officer who
|
|
has managed to lose, and I mean that literally, a patient who could be an
|
|
important witness in a prime-directive violation case."
|
|
|
|
There was a moment of silence. When she finally replied, the woman's voice
|
|
held a mixture of annoyance and contrition.
|
|
|
|
"I'll see to tightening our security procedures, Captain." She placed an odd
|
|
emphasis on his title.
|
|
|
|
"See that you do, Doctor," Picard replied, with similar emphasis.
|
|
|
|
"I'll send someone down to escort her back to Sickbay."
|
|
|
|
"No. She will be staying here, until suitable quarters can be arranged."
|
|
|
|
Once again there were several seconds of complete silence. After a moment,
|
|
the doctor spoke again. "I see. I'll need to verify the status of her health
|
|
before I can officially release her from Sickbay."
|
|
|
|
"That should be no problem. You know where to find her."
|
|
|
|
"I certainly do. Crusher out."
|
|
|
|
Etain looked dubiously at Picard. The woman had sounded very annoyed.
|
|
She hoped she had not been the cause. She had no wish to annoy anyone.
|
|
Annoying people generally resulted in pain. Picard was frowning slightly,
|
|
looking at her from beneath his eyebrows in a way that made her
|
|
uncomfortable.
|
|
|
|
"Well, that's certainly set the cat among the pigeons now, hasn't it?" he
|
|
remarked cryptically, moving to touch the wall across from his bed. It
|
|
opened, and he removed a set of clothing like those he had worn before.
|
|
|
|
His action prompted Etain to notice for the first time that he was not wearing
|
|
his usual red and black garb. Earlier she had been too preoccupied to observe
|
|
that he wore an overlapped shirt and shorts of slate blue. So, his people did
|
|
sometimes wear clothing other than the uniform which so far had been all she
|
|
had seen. She felt pleased, thinking that perhaps she would not have to
|
|
conform to their standard attire which, though attractive, looked restrictive,
|
|
and too warm.
|
|
|
|
"If you will excuse me?" he said. It was more of a statement though it was
|
|
phrased as a question.
|
|
|
|
Etain shrugged, uncertain as to the proper response. He apparently took it as
|
|
assent, for he disappeared through an adjoining door. She stood for a
|
|
moment, uncertainly, then followed the call of her body and slid beneath the
|
|
thin, but surprisingly warm blanket on his bed and closed her eyes.
|
|
|
|
______________________________________________________________________________
|
|
copyright 1992, Kellie Matthews-Simmons
|
|
matthews_k@cubldr.colorado.edu//matthewk@spot.colorado.edu
|
|
all rights reserved
|
|
|
|
Standard Disclaimers Apply
|
|
|
|
From JULIA@Jetson.UH.EDU Tue Aug 31 16:34:09 1993
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Status: RO
|
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From: JULIA@Jetson.UH.EDU
|
|
To: jfy@cis.ksu.edu
|
|
Subject: (TNG) Silence, A Novel by Kellie Matthews-Simmons, Part 7
|
|
Date: Tue, 31 Aug 1993 12:44:15 -0500 (CDT)
|
|
|
|
CHAPTER SEVEN
|
|
|
|
When Picard emerged minutes later, re-uniformed, he glanced at the bed and
|
|
smiled, shaking his head. It was rather an odd feeling to have another being
|
|
consider him the only source of familiarity in a strange world. He wondered
|
|
why he understood it so well, as it was not a particularly familiar situation.
|
|
Granted, his crew was, in some ways, dependent on him, but not in an
|
|
emotional manner. He put away his things and headed for the bridge,
|
|
leaving the door unlocked so that Beverly Crusher could get in when she
|
|
came by.
|
|
|
|
For a moment he thought about the obvious assumption the doctor had made
|
|
and chuckled. Ordinarily he wouldn't find such a situation amusing, but
|
|
there was something about this one that struck him. He would have to
|
|
straighten it out, of course. It wouldn't do to have her annoyed with him for
|
|
too long. Knowing he still had a few minutes until he was due on the bridge,
|
|
he stepped into the turbolift and gave his destination.
|
|
|
|
Arriving in Sickbay, Picard walked into the Doctor's office and stood for a
|
|
moment, watching Beverly as she sat at her desk, eyes fixed on the computer
|
|
screen in front of her, unaware of his presence. She leaned forward suddenly,
|
|
and a touch stopped the downward scroll of the display for a moment, then
|
|
her fingers moved down the sensitive surface of the screen and the image
|
|
enlarged. He heard her whisper a quiet curse, shaking her head.
|
|
|
|
"Beverly Crusher, you are getting incompetent in your old age!" she muttered
|
|
softly. "Damn! How could you be so careless? How did you miss that?"
|
|
|
|
Picard glanced at the screen. It showed a scan-enhanced image of a
|
|
humanoid female. He could not read the patient's name, but he suspected he
|
|
knew who it was. He cleared his throat.
|
|
|
|
"Doctor..."
|
|
|
|
She turned, obviously startled, then sighed. "Captain. I'm sorry, I didn't
|
|
hear you."
|
|
|
|
"No apology necessary. What is it you missed?"
|
|
|
|
She looked away. "I seem to have overlooked something during my first
|
|
diagnostic of Etain's injuries. I was so concerned with the life-threatening
|
|
injuries that I did not notice it."
|
|
|
|
Picard found himself immediately certain he knew what it was she had just
|
|
discovered. He wondered if it was a result of his newly enhanced psi, or
|
|
simply that he knew her well enough to read her unspoken discomfort. He
|
|
relieved her of the burden of trying to tell him.
|
|
|
|
"She was sexually assaulted."
|
|
|
|
Beverly looked up, surprised, then away again. "How did you know?"
|
|
|
|
"There is an... awareness in her now that wasn't there before. An awareness
|
|
of me as a male, not just as a person. And fear. She was never afraid of me
|
|
before."
|
|
|
|
Beverly stared at him for a moment, then an odd expression flashed across
|
|
her face for a fraction of a second. Her relief was almost tangible to him.
|
|
What had he said to make her feel that? He thought about it for a moment,
|
|
and the answer came. His eyes widened slightly. Was he reading something
|
|
into her reaction? Had she really been jealous of his imagined relationship
|
|
with Etain? He began to see why Deanna sometimes considered her talent more
|
|
of a curse. It forced one to confront possibilities one might prefer not to
|
|
confront.
|
|
|
|
Beverly gave no further sign of emotion. "I see. Unfortunately, treating that
|
|
hurt is more in Deanna's field than in mine."
|
|
|
|
"I thought it might help for her to have someone with her, preferably female.
|
|
I offered to send Lieutenant T'kar, but she rejected that notion quite
|
|
vehemently."
|
|
|
|
"I'm not surprised." Beverly said drily. "A Vulcan isn't exactly who I'd send
|
|
to someone in emotional distress. I'll go up. I have to see her anyway, to
|
|
check her over. How does she seem?"
|
|
|
|
Picard shook his head. "She seems composed. Remarkably so, really. I can't
|
|
imagine myself reacting with anything like the equanimity she displays were
|
|
I..." he stopped, frowned, then shook his head. "On second thought, I can. I
|
|
have. Perhaps it is a more common reaction than I thought."
|
|
|
|
Beverly watched him for a moment, her eyes narrowed in professional
|
|
evaluation as she weighed his response. After a moment, she finally chose
|
|
not to comment on his remark.
|
|
"I wish we had some way to talk with her, to really communicate!"
|
|
|
|
"As do I. It seems, between Seret Ng and what little I have gathered from
|
|
Etain, that we have two-thirds of a story. We need that missing third. I am
|
|
hopeful that we will have it soon. Etain is very bright, I had begun teaching
|
|
her Feslan, and she was learning quite easily. Once she learns it, she should
|
|
have no problem communicating." He referred to the most common
|
|
nonverbal language used in the Federation.
|
|
|
|
Beverly nodded, then her expression grew thoughtful. "You know, she might
|
|
have enough human ancestry to be compatible for a drip-learning course on
|
|
Feslan. I'll check on it."
|
|
|
|
"That could save us a great deal of time. I must be on the bridge in a few
|
|
moments. Doctor, thank you for your understanding."
|
|
|
|
She snorted derisively as she turned and began to gather up equipment.
|
|
|
|
"What understanding? I jumped to a conclusion with both feet... but then, I
|
|
suppose I can't imagine spending three days alone with you and not..." She
|
|
paused, turned back to him and winked broadly. "Later, Captain."
|
|
|
|
With that she brushed past him and left sickbay. Picard stared after her, then
|
|
shook his head, smiling. She did manage to slide those jabs right under his
|
|
guard at the damnedest moments. At least they were comfortable enough
|
|
with the subject to joke about it now. There had been a time when it would
|
|
have been impossible. Her year's reassignment had given them both time to
|
|
reassess, and come to terms with the situation as it must be. He headed for
|
|
the bridge.
|
|
|
|
Something prompted Picard to look up from the screen displaying the Security
|
|
report on Etain's dwelling. He glanced around the room, puzzled as to what
|
|
had caught his attention, but nothing out of place to catch his eye, no strange
|
|
sound to break the quiet. The Stargazer replica sailed serenely, as usual, the
|
|
painting of Spacedock wasn't askew, the brass plate listing all the Enterprise's
|
|
forerunners was not in need of polishing. With a slight frown, he turned his
|
|
attention back to the report. Her attackers had not taken her without effort.
|
|
Security had recovered her knife, its tip broken off, its edges dulled, and had
|
|
mapped two different sets of DNA from the blood on its blade. She had fought
|
|
them, but had not had the strength to stand up to the six Worf estimated had
|
|
been sent against her. Six, against someone not much larger than a child;
|
|
advanced weapons against a bronze knife. The thought rankled. What kind of
|
|
people was he dealing with?
|
|
|
|
He glanced at the objects which lay on the conference-table. At his request,
|
|
they had retrieved her book from its hiding place. With it they had found
|
|
another cloth-wrapped parcel, whose contents now lay gleaming dull-gold
|
|
against the glossy surface of the table. Two knot-chased penannulars, six
|
|
bracelets, three rings, and a crescent-shaped necklet so thin it looked as if a
|
|
touch would mar its inscribed surface. He had seen similar collections in
|
|
museums, dug out of the tombs of prehistoric men and women, behind
|
|
screens set to keep out human touch. These were the prized possessions of a
|
|
living being, meant to be worn, to be enjoyed.
|
|
|
|
The items brought a troubling question into abrupt focus. How had her
|
|
culture remained in stasis so long? They had been gone from Earth three-
|
|
thousand years or more, and had been intermixed with Vulcan civilization as
|
|
well, yet they seemed to have remained a virtual living museum of Earth's
|
|
late bronze-age Celts. It simply defied belief that their societal structure
|
|
would not have changed out of all recognition after so long. Even if the
|
|
colonists had not come along and interfered, could they have survived
|
|
without growth? Was the handful of Etain's kin he had seen all that was left?
|
|
Had their gene-pool been too small to support viability? Gods! It was
|
|
frustrating beyond belief. He had a thousand questions, and not one answer.
|
|
|
|
He stood and began to pace the small area near the viewport, stopping once
|
|
to tap at the glass of the aquarium and watch the scorpionfish raise its spines
|
|
defensively. A wry smile lifted one corner of his mouth. It was an
|
|
appropriate mascot for himself; a spiny, defensive creature, easily riled.
|
|
Perhaps too appropriate. Without turning he snapped "Come.", then swung
|
|
around, startled, as the chime sounded a second after he spoke. The door
|
|
hissed open and Guinan stepped inside, regarding him oddly, a little amused.
|
|
|
|
"I see she worked on more than just your ankle." she commented quietly.
|
|
|
|
Picard nodded slowly, still astonished by the realization that he had
|
|
responded before Guinan had requested admittance. He rubbed his forehead,
|
|
as if he could feel there some physical manifestation of the unquestionable
|
|
change Etain had made in him.
|
|
|
|
"I hadn't realized," he began, then stopped, frowning. "I will ask her to
|
|
remove it. I prefer myself un-enhanced."
|
|
|
|
To his surprise Guinan nodded. "I agree. You were never meant to have
|
|
what she has given you. It isn't in your nature."
|
|
|
|
Strangely relieved by her concurrence, Picard leaned against the conference
|
|
table and waited for her to get around to telling him why she was there. He
|
|
had learned long ago not to try and rush Guinan. She would tell him when
|
|
she was ready.
|
|
|
|
She circled the room once, as if re-familiarizing herself with its contents,
|
|
stopped to stare out the viewport for a moment, then turned to him. "You
|
|
know I don't like to meddle..."
|
|
|
|
"Do I?" he asked, chuckling.
|
|
|
|
Guinan grinned in return. "Well, you have me there. So I do like to meddle.
|
|
But only when I feel it's necessary."
|
|
|
|
"And you feel it necessary now?"
|
|
|
|
"I do. This woman you brought aboard is very special."
|
|
|
|
He nodded cautiously, wondering in what sense she meant special.
|
|
|
|
"I am afraid for her."
|
|
|
|
His eyes narrowed. "For her, or of her?"
|
|
|
|
"Not of her, she is too like me, like I once was anyway. Lost, afraid, alone,"
|
|
she shuddered, touching the thick cold transparency of the viewport. "So
|
|
alone. And so bright, so much potential."
|
|
|
|
"Interesting, that's almost exactly what T'kar said."
|
|
|
|
"She was right. A Vulcan would feel it, though not as I do. But I'm afraid
|
|
she may have too much potential for the fragility of her state right now.
|
|
Things are too uncertain, and she needs connection, something to shore her up."
|
|
|
|
Picard tensed, suspecting what her next words would be. He had the feeling
|
|
he had heard this speech once before, from Deanna Troi, and knew he could
|
|
not possibly comply. To his relief, Guinan looked at him and shook her head,
|
|
smiling.
|
|
|
|
"No, I'm not suggesting you 'parent' her, Captain. We both know how well
|
|
that turned out last time, and I don't think knife-wounds are particularly
|
|
good for you. She needs friends, not parents. But even that isn't what I was
|
|
going to suggest. The environment here is totally alien. She needs something
|
|
familiar."
|
|
|
|
Picard's gaze went to the collection on the table and he nodded. "I think I
|
|
may have exactly what you want, Guinan. But how do you know this? Have
|
|
you spoken with her?"
|
|
|
|
"I didn't need to. I hear her as plainly as if we had spoken. I would like to
|
|
meet her, with your permission, to let her know that there is at least one
|
|
person aboard capable of communicating with her."
|
|
|
|
Picard stared at her, then slowly shook his head. "I've been an idiot! Here
|
|
I've been relying on amateurs, when I have a professional at my fingertips."
|
|
|
|
She shrugged, her expression bland. "I was wondering when you were going
|
|
to remember me. I suppose it's because I'm not regular crew, and I can
|
|
understand why I slipped your mind. Besides, with so much on your mind..."
|
|
|
|
"Enough, Guinan, I was wrong. By all means, take Etain under your wing,
|
|
she could use a mother hen right now."
|
|
|
|
Guinan winced. "Mother hen? I've been called a lot of things, but mother
|
|
hen?."
|
|
|
|
"Why not? It's one of your chief talents."
|
|
|
|
"Mother I'll grant, but hen? The image is so unattractive."
|
|
|
|
"Unlike you." Picard offered with a slight smile.
|
|
|
|
Guinan chuckled. "You're forgiven. Where is she?"
|
|
|
|
"In my quarters, sleeping."
|
|
|
|
Guinan raised non-existent eyebrows. "In your quarters?"
|
|
|
|
Picard sighed, wishing he had never offered Etain that convenience. "She was
|
|
intimidated by the size and atmosphere of the Sickbay. As I was on my way
|
|
here, I thought it would do no harm, however, I have requested that the guest
|
|
suite on deck eight be prepared for her. When she awakens, I would
|
|
appreciate it if you would escort her there."
|
|
|
|
"I should think so. You're going to get a reputation if you're not careful."
|
|
|
|
"I somehow doubt it," he returned drily. Turning, he carefully placed Etain's
|
|
ornaments and book in the case Security had supplied, and held it out toward
|
|
Guinan. "Here. These might supply that sense of connection you were speaking
|
|
of. Also, I asked the purser to review Security's recordings of Etain's
|
|
dwelling before furnishing the guest suite. Hopefully he has come up with
|
|
something she will find reasonably familiar."
|
|
|
|
Guinan nodded as she took the case. "Good idea, very good."
|
|
|
|
Picard shrugged, his gaze drawn toward the door. That feeling was back.
|
|
That peculiar sensation of knowing. Seconds later Riker's voice came over the
|
|
intercom, softer than usual, muted, as if he were trying to be quiet.
|
|
"Captain Picard to the bridge."
|
|
|
|
Guinan and Picard exchanged glances, and she nodded, confirming his guess.
|
|
|
|
"She's not asleep anymore." Guinan said softly.
|
|
|
|
|
|
He nodded, wondering what Etain was up to now. Entering the bridge,
|
|
oddly, the first thing he noticed was Wesley Crusher, whose expression was
|
|
one of sheer adolescent desire; the boy was practically drooling. Picard
|
|
turned slowly to follow his gaze, knowing exactly who the young ensign was
|
|
staring at. It was little comfort finding he was correct. Etain had found her
|
|
way to the bridge. And she'd appropriated his sleeping gear as her uniform
|
|
du jour.
|
|
|
|
The sickbay blanket had been more decorous, as on a woman the wide wrapped 'v'
|
|
of his tunic stopped just short of indecency. He wasn't entirely certain how
|
|
his shorts were staying on her at all, but since the tunic ended at hip-level,
|
|
it was a good thing they were. He closed his eyes for a moment and prayed for
|
|
patience. It wouldn't do to frighten her any more than she obviously already
|
|
was. Her eyes were riveted on the main screen with its almost infinite view of
|
|
space and planet, her face was pale, and her clenched fists white-knuckled. He
|
|
remembered her reaction to the far less dizzying view in his cabin and
|
|
understood immediately. He shot a glance at Riker, and found his expression
|
|
amused and waiting. He sighed, and gave his uniform a particularly irritated
|
|
yank.
|
|
|
|
"Main viewer off." he said quietly to the young woman at the security station.
|
|
She dragged her suspicious gaze away from Etain and nodded, hands moving
|
|
quickly.
|
|
|
|
"Main viewer off, aye sir."
|
|
|
|
The screen faded to pearl-gray and Etain sagged slightly, but recovered before
|
|
Picard was more than halfway to her. She shuddered, took a deep breath, then
|
|
straightened, and stuck out her chin. Tentatively she took a step toward him,
|
|
and as she did, the shorts slid down a good inch.
|
|
|
|
There was a collective intake of breath across the bridge, and a sound
|
|
suspiciously like a smothered chuckle from Guinan. Etain scowled and
|
|
reached down to tug them back into place. Before she could move again, he
|
|
crossed the distance and took her arm, gently.
|
|
|
|
"Etain, I'm afraid the bridge is off-limits. You should not be here, "
|
|
|
|
Etain's gaze dropped, and she nodded, obviously crestfallen.
|
|
|
|
Picard turned toward Guinan, the only person aboard who was equipped to
|
|
deal with an extremely naive and curious telepath. Deanna would have been
|
|
his first choice, lacking the sense of mischief that Guinan had, but since she
|
|
was unavailable, that was out. Only Guinan had the infinite calm, the
|
|
patience, and the understanding to deal with Etain, whose recent experiences
|
|
had no doubt left her somewhat fragile.
|
|
|
|
"Come, I have someone you must meet." he turned. "Commander Riker, you
|
|
have the conn."
|
|
|
|
Riker nodded acceptance, and Picard herded Etain back into the turbolift she
|
|
had exited only moments earlier, firmly controlling the urge to pull her tunic
|
|
closed. Guinan followed.
|
|
|
|
As the doors closed, Guinan reached out and touched her fingers to Etain's
|
|
wrist. Etain's head jerked up, and she stared at Guinan in absolute shock.
|
|
|
|
"I am Guinan." she said simply.
|
|
|
|
Etain stared at her, wide-eyed, for a moment, then slowly lifted her own hand
|
|
to rest momentarily against Guinan's.
|
|
|
|
"Her name is Etain." Picard supplied.
|
|
|
|
Guinan nodded. "I am very pleased to meet you. I sensed you, earlier. I'm
|
|
glad you are feeling better now."
|
|
|
|
Etain nodded, still staring at Guinan as if she had just descended from heaven
|
|
on a cloud. The turbolift slowed, then stopped. Guinan looked at Picard and
|
|
smiled.
|
|
|
|
"I can take it from here."
|
|
|
|
Picard nodded, and turned to Etain. "Go with Guinan, she'll show you to
|
|
your quarters. I will come by later."
|
|
|
|
Etain nodded, her eyes never leaving Guinan. Picard stepped back as Guinan
|
|
held out her hand. "Come child, we have a lot to talk about."
|
|
|
|
Etain took it, with the open trust of the child Guinan had named her. As they
|
|
moved away down the corridor, Etain reached down and hitched up her
|
|
shorts yet again. Picard shook his head, trying not to laugh.
|
|
|
|
"Oh, and Guinan," he called.
|
|
|
|
She turned, expectantly.
|
|
|
|
"For heaven's sake, get her something to wear!"
|
|
|
|
The doors hissed closed on Guinan's low chuckle. Picard stood for a moment,
|
|
feeling vaguely left out, then shook himself mentally.
|
|
"Bridge."
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Etain was overwhelmed with sudden questions. Where had this woman
|
|
come from? Why had she not felt her presence before? How could she have
|
|
not sensed a being with whom she could freely communicate? Too surprised
|
|
and curious to be discreet, she stared at Guinan as she led her down the
|
|
corridor.
|
|
|
|
She was not tall, perhaps a handspan or so taller than Etain herself. She
|
|
moved fluidly, and seemed to be formed completely of smooth curves, no
|
|
angles at all. Her skin gleamed like polished dark wood, and though her
|
|
expression was serene below the odd head-dress she wore, her eyes were old,
|
|
wise, sad, and yet filled with vitality and laughter. They were Maivh's eyes.
|
|
Eyes that had seen too much, and yet not enough. She contained her desire to
|
|
spy into the woman's mind, but she could sense that she practiced some
|
|
version of the Mindways. She fairly glowed with Talents.
|
|
|
|
She was so intent on observing Guinan that she nearly ran into her when the
|
|
other woman stopped before one of the many doors which lined the
|
|
passageway. Embarrassed, lifted her hands in apology, but her companion
|
|
only laughed.
|
|
|
|
"It's all right. I don't mind. I've been stared at by many in my time. This
|
|
is your cabin, you'll be staying here, at least until we figure out what to do
|
|
with you."
|
|
|
|
The doors opened, and what lay behind them distracted Etain from the fear
|
|
Guinan's words had evoked. Her mouth opened in surprise, but she quickly
|
|
closed it. Home, it was home. Or almost. The room was scentless, obviously
|
|
new, yet so like her own. Someone had gone to great trouble to put her at ease.
|
|
After a moment she began to notice the differences, the smooth, white walls,
|
|
the soft padding underfoot; still, her first impression had been correct.
|
|
Everything fit her, cushions low on the floor, dimmed lights, earthy colors.
|
|
As she wandered, taking it in, she noticed a small carving of the Mother
|
|
displayed on a shelf against one wall, Her rich fullness rendered in sketchy
|
|
detail, very like the one which belonged to her own mother. She smiled,
|
|
realizing that whoever had put it there had not understood that the Maiden's
|
|
slim lines were more appropriate to her. The small error made no difference,
|
|
the effort was what was important. Her nose stung, and she had to blink
|
|
hard to push back tears.
|
|
|
|
A sudden wave of scent diverted her from her observations, and her mouth
|
|
began to water at the rich, spicy odor. Until that moment she had not realized
|
|
that she was hungry, in fact, ravenous. Guinan turned away from a panel at
|
|
the other side of the room, bearing a tray in her hands. On it were two
|
|
transparent cups; one containing a reddish-brown liquid, the other held what
|
|
seemed to be water; between the cups sat a bowl from which steam curled
|
|
and drifted. Food of some sort, cooked, and still hot. She couldn't remember
|
|
the last time she had eaten food still warm from its cooking. She had always
|
|
feared that the smoke from a fire might betray her.
|
|
|
|
Puzzled, she wondered where had it come from. The food had not been there
|
|
when they entered the room, yet it was undeniably real, no illusion conjured
|
|
by hunger. Guinan set the tray down on the low table and motioned for her
|
|
to sit. She did, and started to reach for the bowl when it occurred to her
|
|
that she was making an unwarranted assumption, and the food was not necessarily
|
|
for her. Embarrassed, she put her hands in her lap and looked away politely,
|
|
then was startled when the other woman placed a hand gently on her arm.
|
|
|
|
"Etain, it's yours. I certainly don't need it," she chuckled, as if at some
|
|
secret jest. "... but you do. Eat now, and we'll talk when you finish."
|
|
|
|
With a quick, and she hoped not ungracious nod, Etain turned her attention
|
|
to the bowl which held a mixture of vegetables and an unfamiliar grain. Seeing
|
|
no spoon, she carefully tested the temperature with a finger, then finding it
|
|
bearable she used two fingers as a scoop to carry a bite to her mouth. It was
|
|
delicious, the vegetables slightly crisp, the grain firm but soft, all in a
|
|
slightly salty, extremely flavorful broth whose spices were unfamiliar to her.
|
|
She saw Guinan smile and made her 'curious' face, wondering what had amused
|
|
her. She shook her head.
|
|
|
|
"Worf's going to love you." Guinan said cryptically, then reached down and
|
|
picked up the odd, pronged object which lay beside the bowl. "Try this."
|
|
Demonstrating, she speared a vegetable on the prongs, and caught some of the
|
|
grain with the flat side, then lifted it to Etain's mouth. Etain took the bite,
|
|
and then the object, studying it. It was like a spoon with two slits cut in
|
|
it. Easy enough to use, if one was careful with the pointed end. She
|
|
continued to eat, using the utensil. After a few bites she stopped, held it up,
|
|
and with the difficulty of long disuse, projected her question.
|
|
|
|
__What is this called?__
|
|
|
|
Guinan laughed. "There, I knew you could do it! It's just been a long time,
|
|
hasn't it? It's called a fork."
|
|
|
|
__A fork? Thank you. And, yes, it has been a long time. The others will not
|
|
speak this way, I do not think they have forgotten, but they are afraid to
|
|
speak with me.__
|
|
|
|
Guinan looked at her sharply. "The others?"
|
|
|
|
Etain nodded, cautiously taking another bite from the fork. She was relieved
|
|
that she didn't have to try to sign. Communicating this way, she could eat
|
|
and still 'talk'.
|
|
|
|
__The others. The Darkmind took them for his slaves, and though many are
|
|
as old as I, he keeps them all as children through some magic I do not
|
|
understand.__
|
|
|
|
"Whoa, wait just a minute here. I think you need to back up and start at the
|
|
beginning. Who is 'the Darkmind'?"
|
|
|
|
Etain projected an image.
|
|
|
|
"Ugh. Nice fellow. Does he really look like that, or is that his personality
|
|
showing?"
|
|
|
|
Etain examined the image she had given Guinan critically. Revising it, she
|
|
sent it out again, with an apologetic smile. __My feelings have influenced my
|
|
view of him. He is evil, but that does not show in his face. This is his true
|
|
seeming.__
|
|
|
|
"That's more like it. No running sores, no glowing eyes. Much more realistic.
|
|
I might know this person if I ran into him. No name?"
|
|
|
|
__If he has one, I do not know it. I call him the Darkmind for that is what he
|
|
is.__
|
|
|
|
"I see. This sounds like a long story, that is, if you don't mind telling it."
|
|
|
|
Tears flooded Etain's eyes. __I live to tell it. That was my promise, that I
|
|
would become fiach fiarsain and sing the tale.__
|
|
|
|
Guinan took a sip of her tea and settled in to listen. It was what she did
|
|
best.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
His watch finished, Picard turned the conn over to Data and headed for his
|
|
quarters, but before the lift opened on deck eight, he wondered if Guinan was
|
|
still with Etain. Knowing how to satisfy his curiosity without interrupting,
|
|
he changed his destination and made his way to Ten Forward.
|
|
|
|
Guinan was not in evidence, either behind the bar, or in any of the groups
|
|
scattered around the room. Disappointed, he was about to leave when he
|
|
noted how many eyes were on him, and realized it would look odd for him to
|
|
leave, having just entered. Revising his plans, he turned and requested an
|
|
armangac from the Mellarian who took Guinan's place while she was gone,
|
|
and wished that Will Riker or Deanna Troi was there to talk to. He was all
|
|
too aware of the fact that anytime he entered Ten Forward unaccompanied, a
|
|
good portion of the crew-members present grew quiet, and a little tense. The
|
|
'captain on the bridge' syndrome was something that he had learned, over
|
|
time, was unavoidable. Knowing it was a sign of respect didn't make it any
|
|
easier to accept. Holding his drink, he turned and casually scanned the room.
|
|
Geordi LaForge sat a few tables away, by himself. With a sub-vocal sigh of
|
|
relief, Picard made his way over to where his chief engineer sat, toying idly
|
|
with a tricorder. An odd recreational device.
|
|
|
|
"Mr. LaForge," he said, nodding in greeting.
|
|
|
|
"Captain!" La Forge seemed startled, he had obviously not noticed Picard
|
|
earlier. He recovered quickly, though, and waved a hand toward the empty
|
|
seats at the table. "Will you join me?"
|
|
|
|
"For a moment, only. I've no wish to intrude."
|
|
|
|
"Not at all. I was just waiting for Wes. I wanted his input on this sensor
|
|
modification."
|
|
|
|
Picard leaned forward, interested. No one had mentioned any sensor
|
|
modification. "What sensor modification?"
|
|
|
|
Geordi warmed to his topic instantly. "Commander Riker asked me to work
|
|
on it when you," he hesitated a moment, then continued. "...went missing.
|
|
As you know, our sensors don't read worth a damn through certain minerals,
|
|
and metals. My VISOR has less trouble with some of them, so we've been
|
|
trying to develop a sensor mode which operates more like my VISOR."
|
|
|
|
"Interesting. It sounds like a good idea." he studied the tricorder for a
|
|
moment, then looked up. "Why are you doing this on your own time?"
|
|
|
|
Geordi's coloring made it nearly impossible to tell if he was flushed, but he
|
|
seemed embarrassed nonetheless. "Well, when you returned it made the
|
|
project obsolete; but I wanted to keep working on it. It seemed worthwhile."
|
|
|
|
"Indeed, quite worthwhile. However, I think it best left to your on-duty
|
|
hours. I look forward to seeing the results of your work; any modification
|
|
which improves our sensor capabilities should be given the time and talent it
|
|
needs."
|
|
|
|
Geordi grinned, obviously pleased. "Really, sir?"
|
|
|
|
"Absolutely, Lieutenant. I will note my approval of the project in the ship's
|
|
log."
|
|
|
|
Geordi half-rose, as if ready to leave. "Thank you, sir. We'll get right on
|
|
it."
|
|
|
|
"No, Mr. La Forge, you'll finish your off-shift, and then get right on it."
|
|
|
|
Geordi resumed his seat, and shook his head, chuckling. "Of course, sir." He
|
|
lifted his head, looking beyond Picard toward Ten-Forward's main doors, and
|
|
whistled softly. "Whoa, is that Guinan? There's trouble brewing from that
|
|
direction! I've never seen her look like that! She looks like an electrical
|
|
storm about to break!"
|
|
|
|
Picard swiveled, and found himself tempted to agree, though his un-enhanced
|
|
vision was confined to her physical expression. He had, perhaps, seen her so
|
|
disturbed once, when she had confronted 'Q'. She brushed past the table as if
|
|
he wasn't there, and headed straight for the huge viewplate where she stood,
|
|
and stared out, her normally placid expression gone, replaced by lines of anger
|
|
and stress between her brows, around her mouth. Picard went to stand with her,
|
|
quietly, waiting. Finally she turned, shaking her head.
|
|
|
|
"We need to talk, but not here. I shouldn't bring this here, this is a place
|
|
for healing."
|
|
|
|
Picard nodded, knowing exactly what she meant. It was why he had insisted
|
|
that Ten Forward be created, and that she run it. "My ready room is
|
|
available." he suggested.
|
|
|
|
"Good. I'll meet you there. Right now I need to be alone for a few minutes."
|
|
|
|
"Of course. I will wait."
|
|
|
|
Without acknowledging him, she turned and strode out. Picard followed,
|
|
more slowly.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
"She's more like me than I knew, Jean-Luc. I thought I understood, but it's
|
|
worse. Much worse."
|
|
|
|
Picard tensed, but spoke calmly. "Explain, Guinan."
|
|
|
|
"Do you have any idea what was done to her, to them? Slavery, and worse,
|
|
genocide. He tried to eradicate her entire species! She managed to save a
|
|
few, she had just begun to understand and use her healing talent, damn, it's
|
|
worse than the Borg, at least they didn't understand what it was they
|
|
destroyed! This one, he knows."
|
|
|
|
"Who knows?"
|
|
|
|
"I don't know who. She calls him 'the Darkmind'. A tall, good-looking man in
|
|
reality, but his mind is exactly as Etain describes. Dark. It has to be, to
|
|
conceive of such filth."
|
|
|
|
"What is it he has done?"
|
|
|
|
"He killed them. All of them, except the few Etain managed to save.
|
|
Hundreds of them, in the space of days, dying in man-made agony." she
|
|
looked at him, her eyes angry, and bitter. "Your kind has so much good, Jean-
|
|
Luc. How can you also be so evil?"
|
|
|
|
His gaze fell before hers, and he shook his head. "We seem to have an equal
|
|
capacity for either, I cannot excuse, or explain it. It just is."
|
|
|
|
She closed her eyes. "It just is. Insh'allah, some would say. The will of
|
|
God. Even your gods are out of balance."
|
|
|
|
Picard did not reply, knowing no reply he could frame would help. After a
|
|
moment, he spoke again.
|
|
|
|
"Tell me, Guinan. Otherwise, I cannot help."
|
|
|
|
Guinan took a deep breath, and nodded. "It may well be too late to help, but
|
|
we have to try. As she told you, her people, she calls them the Rua'Shi, were
|
|
on Halvam first, though I don't believe they are native to this world. They
|
|
are part human, her people, and perhaps part Rihannsu, or Vulcan. I suspect
|
|
they were placed here, long ago."
|
|
|
|
"That much we had already surmised. T'kar suspects Preserver influence."
|
|
|
|
She looked up sharply, a speculative gleam in her eyes. "Yes, that makes
|
|
sense. The long sleep, of course!"
|
|
|
|
"The long sleep?"
|
|
|
|
"Etain said that they had only recently awoken from something she called 'the
|
|
Long Sleep' when the sickness came. I thought perhaps her species
|
|
hibernates, but Preserver technology makes more sense. For some reason, it's
|
|
been periodically putting them to sleep, and waking them up years later."
|
|
|
|
"Odd. I wonder why? Continue."
|
|
|
|
"This time, when the Rua'Shi woke, the colony was well-established. They
|
|
were surprised, yet accepted the change, they are, or were, a very accepting
|
|
people. They studied them surreptitiously, and even began to interact with
|
|
them. A few were taken and 'entertained', as is their custom. Two children
|
|
were born of matings between RuaShi and colonist; apparently a deliberate
|
|
experiment, the Rua'Shi were trying to see if a species so mind-blind could
|
|
possibly be human," she chuckled mirthlessly. "They were right to wonder.
|
|
Inevitably, a group of colonists found the Rua'Shi city, even hidden as it was,
|
|
underground. Because initially they showed no sign of aggression, they were
|
|
welcomed, allowed to come and go as they pleased. The man Etain calls the
|
|
Darkmind was among them. Six months later, the Rua'Shi began to die. In
|
|
four days, all but forty-three had died. All that saved those few was the fact
|
|
that Etain had developed enough of her healing abilities to teach their bodies
|
|
how to repel the virus, and neutralize it. She said her mother who was also a
|
|
healer, helped her find the solution, but died when Etain was only able to
|
|
make it work on those her own age, or less."
|
|
|
|
An involuntary shudder rippled Picard's spine. He knew now, why Etain's
|
|
eyes were so haunted. She had accepted the burden of death, and life for her
|
|
people, at an age when most human children had never even faced the reality
|
|
of death. And she had known the agonizing futility of finding enough of an
|
|
answer to help herself, yet be unable help her own family. He realized, with
|
|
shock, that he had very badly underestimated her. Clearing his throat of the
|
|
lump that constricted it, he spoke hoarsely.
|
|
|
|
"Go on."
|
|
|
|
"She took the survivors to another place, nearby. They didn't want to stay
|
|
with the dead. Because of that, they had a few months respite, then he found
|
|
them. Realizing they were immune to the disease, the first thing he did was
|
|
take away their voices so they could not tell anyone what he did to them.
|
|
With help from a human woman Etain managed to get away, before he did to
|
|
her whatever it was that changed the others."
|
|
|
|
"What do you mean, changed?"
|
|
|
|
"He altered their metabolism somehow. In point of fact, they are all the same
|
|
age as Etain, give or take a few years."
|
|
|
|
"Impossible! I've seen them, they're children, no more!"
|
|
|
|
"They look like children, act like children, they even think they are children,
|
|
but they are not. The youngest of them is only eight years her junior, and
|
|
she's nearly thirty-five."
|
|
|
|
"Thirty-five?" Picard asked, taken aback. "She looks and acts far younger."
|
|
|
|
"I know. Like my people, they were a slow-maturing race even without
|
|
human interference, and her lack of socialization accentuates her apparent
|
|
youth; but according to her, the others haven't aged a year since they were
|
|
captured. They have remained exactly as they were twenty years ago. And
|
|
that isn't normal."
|
|
|
|
"No, it isn't, but then very little seems normal about this world." he paused,
|
|
thoughtfully, then studied Guinan with narrowed eyes. "Would you be able
|
|
to identify the man she calls the Darkmind?"
|
|
|
|
"I would. Unequivocally."
|
|
|
|
"Good. Computer, generate image of Coran Delvekia of Halvam."
|
|
|
|
Above the table a holofield sprang into being, resolving into an hologram of
|
|
Coran Delvekia. Guinan studied it for a few seconds, then looked to Picard,
|
|
face grim."
|
|
|
|
"That's him."
|
|
|
|
"Damn, I suspected it."
|
|
|
|
He was silent a moment, thinking about what she had just told him, finding it
|
|
difficult to comprehend. An entire people gone... his first reaction was,
|
|
oddly, to wonder why. What had Delvekia feared from a people who, if Etain
|
|
was a representative example, could not possibly have been a threat. He
|
|
stared at Guinan blankly, and realized she was scowling at him.
|
|
|
|
"Don't you care, Jean-Luc? You sit there so calmly!" Guinan demanded hotly.
|
|
|
|
He closed his eyes, momentarily at a loss for words as he tried to find a way
|
|
to explain his reaction. He was well aware that it looked odd. Finally, he
|
|
made the attempt.
|
|
|
|
"I care, Guinan, very much. I am as horrified as you, as disgusted... perhaps
|
|
more so, since the man who perpetrated this thing is of Human stock. But it
|
|
is difficult to grasp the scope, the full nature of it. As an empath, you
|
|
cannot help but feel it. It is a unique failing among humans that we have
|
|
difficulty in dealing with tragedy on so vast a scale," he sighed, and rubbed
|
|
the bridge of his nose, feeling pressed to continue.
|
|
|
|
"A single death, of someone close, affects us greatly. We can grasp that, can
|
|
feel it. But an entire population gone is too much to comprehend. A part of
|
|
the mind shuts down, until it can find a way to understand it, leaving a mask
|
|
of calm in its place. Even today there are those who refuse to believe that
|
|
the masscre on Tarsus Four took place, though there is indisputable proof.
|
|
Their inability to accept it is symptomatic of the same human failing. I don't
|
|
excuse it, I can't, but it does exist."
|
|
|
|
Guinan shook her head, disgusted. "Humans! Why do I bother?" She shivered.
|
|
"If you could feel what she felt... see through her eyes, then perhaps
|
|
you wouldn't have this 'failing,' as you put it. Instead of removing that
|
|
empathic booster, maybe she should enhance it! Your kind needs to
|
|
experience this horror in order to stop repeating it!"
|
|
|
|
"You're absolutely right. I can't argue with your reasoning. We do need to
|
|
experience such things personally. I suspect I will, when I try to sleep
|
|
tonight." He shook his head, his expression taut and grim. "It's too late,
|
|
that's the worst thing. We cannot change it, or stop it. We can only try to
|
|
repair the damage as best we may. I'd have him in the brig now, save we've no
|
|
proof."
|
|
|
|
"We do now."
|
|
|
|
He shook his head again. "Barely. Telepathic deputation is legally
|
|
acceptable, but we need something, anything, to corroborate it before we have
|
|
a case we can bring to trial. I would have had a witness, but Seret Ng died
|
|
before she could finish telling me her story. I suspect she was killed to
|
|
prevent her from speaking with me, though her death was passed off as
|
|
heart-failure brought on by the attack on me."
|
|
|
|
Guinan shook her head, scowling. "There has got to be something, some way
|
|
to prove it."
|
|
|
|
Picard straightened suddenly, an idea beginning to take shape. "Perhaps there
|
|
is. You said there was an underground city, where they left the dead?"
|
|
|
|
Guinan shuddered, swallowing as if to stave off nausea. "Yes. Her memories
|
|
are very vivid. They died so fast, there was neither time or hands enough to
|
|
bury or cremate them. She did what she could, covering them, laying them
|
|
out, but they are all there, right where they died."
|
|
|
|
Repressing the image that conjured, he finished her thought. "And with them
|
|
probably evidence that the disease that killed them was manufactured. The
|
|
pieces finally begin to fall into place! Seret Ng said she had 'done an evil
|
|
thing'. She and DelVekia were partners in a genetic-engineering laboratory.
|
|
She probably helped him develop the virus or bacterium that killed them. If
|
|
we can prove it, if there is a way to trace it back to him, we have our proof!"
|
|
|
|
"Interesting, I wonder if the woman who helped Etain escape was Seret Ng,
|
|
trying to assuage her conscience?"
|
|
|
|
"It seems likely, though by that time it was far too late. But if we can't
|
|
make the link, we still have no case."
|
|
|
|
"We've got to try. They didn't know about the nature of the disease until
|
|
after it was over. Before Delvekia caught the survivors, they thought it had
|
|
been some terrible, but natural plague. When he found that some of the Rua'Shi
|
|
had survived, Delvekia was so angry that he spoke in front of them. Etain
|
|
understood enough of what he was saying to realize that he had unleashed that
|
|
devastation on her folk deliberately. She said she tried to kill him then,
|
|
but was unable to do so."
|
|
|
|
"Unfortunate." he gritted, harshly.
|
|
|
|
Guinan looked at him in astonishment. It was indicative of how strongly he
|
|
felt, normally such a sentiment would never have passed his lips. She sighed.
|
|
"Jean-Luc, death is something we must all deal with, but murder should not
|
|
have to be. She was a child, would you wish a lifetime of regret on her?"
|
|
|
|
He sighed. "No, Guinan, you know I wouldn't. If we can locate her 'city of
|
|
the dead', we may be able to find enough evidence there to support an
|
|
indictment. Do you think she would be willing to take a security team there?"
|
|
|
|
Guinan nodded, slowly. "I think if you ask, she will. She trusts you."
|
|
|
|
Picard shifted uncomfortably. "I can't think why, after what happened."
|
|
|
|
"That wasn't your fault, and she knows it." Guinan grinned, her smile
|
|
relieving a little of the tension that had developed. "Face it, Jean-Luc,
|
|
you're just one of those people everyone trusts, except those who have
|
|
something to hide."
|
|
|
|
He eyed her, disgruntled. "You make me sound like some damned galactic
|
|
boy-scout." he complained.
|
|
|
|
Guinan grinned. "If the shoe fits...."
|
|
|
|
He stood abruptly, still tense. "Where is she?"
|
|
|
|
"Hopefully in the guest suite where I left her, though she seems to have a
|
|
tendency to wander off. She knows she's in no danger here, and so feels no
|
|
qualms about exploring. She wants to learn, and she's very intelligent."
|
|
|
|
"That I know. And, as you know, I have already had experience with her
|
|
tendency toward exploration," he chuckled, feeling a little of the tension
|
|
leave him. "She seems to be ideal Starfleet material, save for her lack of
|
|
education, and a certain inability to follow orders"
|
|
|
|
Guinan looked at him, head tilted to one side, eyes sharp and narrowed, like
|
|
a bird. "You're absolutely right. She has no real xenophobia at all, which is
|
|
odd considering her experiences. It seems that as long as she can sense
|
|
sentience, that being is regarded as a person no matter what they look like.
|
|
That attitude could be a tremendous asset in Starfleet. You know that most
|
|
telepathic species have trouble reading Klingons, but she said that though
|
|
Worf is different, he is perfectly readable. You may have just come up with a
|
|
solution to her for what seems to worry her the most."
|
|
|
|
"Which is?" Picard prompted, curious.
|
|
|
|
"What she, and the others, are going to do after all this is over."
|
|
|
|
Guinan's words were matter-of-fact, but Picard sensed the seriousness behind
|
|
it. Etain's way of life had twice been destroyed. First when her people had
|
|
been nearly exterminated, after which she had managed to make a new life
|
|
for herself, now once again it had been torn apart. It was an understandable
|
|
worry. He frowned, realizing for the first time that something would have to
|
|
be done with all of the Rua'Shi. Their world had been irrevocably shattered,
|
|
they could not return to it. Nor could they be left to fend for themselves,
|
|
especially not, if as Etain had told Guinan, they had been developmentally
|
|
arrested. Depending on the cause, the condition might or might not be
|
|
reversible.
|
|
|
|
He looked up to find Guinan watching him intently and smiled, dryly,
|
|
knowing she had followed his train of thought. Sometimes he suspected that
|
|
being close friends with a telepath was a lot like being married. He'd heard
|
|
that spouses, like telepaths, seemed to know ones' thoughts without even
|
|
trying.
|
|
|
|
"I'll get someone to work on the relocation problem immediately, Guinan, and
|
|
thank you for bringing it to my attention."
|
|
|
|
Guinan inclined her head, looking for all the world like one of Earth's famous
|
|
Black Madonnas', her headdress uncannily like a halo.
|
|
|
|
"I thought you would. I will go down to legal and file my deposition now, if
|
|
you've nothing further."
|
|
|
|
"Of course, Guinan, you have my thanks."
|
|
|
|
She paused as the doors opened and looked back at him, her expression
|
|
troubled.
|
|
|
|
"Go soon. Something's going to happen. Something bad."
|
|
|
|
He nodded, accepting the warning. Guinan could be annoyingly cryptic, but
|
|
her warnings were always valid. As she left, he stood, unconsciously
|
|
reseating the lower edge of his uniform tunic, and went to ask Etain for help
|
|
he wasn't certain she would be willing to provide.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
The guest-suite door was open when he approached, apparently Etain had
|
|
asked Guinan to leave it so. Picard released it to close behind him, wanting
|
|
privacy for this conversation. Etain sat on the low couch, eyes closed, her
|
|
arms wrapped around her book, and her face resting against it. The posture
|
|
was simultaneously protective, and possessive, reminiscent of a child with a
|
|
favored blanket. As he had requested, Guinan had seen to her clothing, Etain
|
|
now wore a loose tunic and leggings of winter-white. Her feet were bare. He
|
|
wondered briefly if white was the color of mourning in her culture as it was
|
|
in so many. Dull gold gleamed on her fingers, wrists, shoulders, and throat,
|
|
all her familiar things, displayed like talismans. He sensed that she was not
|
|
asleep, and also that she knew he was there, so he waited, as he waited for
|
|
Guinan. After a few moments, she seemed to shudder, and lifted her head to
|
|
look at him, then nodded.
|
|
|
|
He didn't need to ask what it was she agreed to. He could tell, simply by the
|
|
ghosts that he saw reflected in her eyes. How had she known what he had
|
|
come to ask? Was he that transparent to her now? It was a disquieting
|
|
thought. He had never liked sharing very much of himself. It reminded him,
|
|
though, that there was another matter he needed to take care of. He took a
|
|
seat in the chair across from her, and thought for a moment, of how to say
|
|
what needed to be said. Steepling his fingers, he began.
|
|
|
|
"You gave me a gift I am not equipped to use, Etain. I need you to put me
|
|
back the way I was."
|
|
|
|
She stared at him, a puzzled frown drawing her eyebrows down, and shook
|
|
her head.
|
|
|
|
He sighed. He had hoped it would be easier. "As you no doubt are aware,
|
|
we most humans have very little psionic ability, the ability to use your mind
|
|
to speak, to hear, to heal, that sort of thing. We aren't very good at them."
|
|
|
|
She nodded. He had the feeling she was amused.
|
|
|
|
"You changed something, inside my mind. Unlocked an ability I was unable
|
|
to use before. An ability to sense things, especially emotions, with thought
|
|
alone."
|
|
|
|
She touched her chest, eyebrows lifted.
|
|
|
|
Her unspoken "Me?" was obvious. He began to wonder if he, Guinan and
|
|
T'kar could be wrong. Then he remembered telling Guinan to come in before
|
|
she had asked, knowing that Etain was on the bridge before Riker called, and
|
|
knew he was not.
|
|
|
|
"Yes, you. Both Guinan and T'kar confirmed it. It wasn't deliberate?"
|
|
|
|
She shook her head, and, setting the book aside got to her feet. It was odd,
|
|
but she seemed older than before. Perhaps it was the fact that he now knew
|
|
how old she was, or possibly it was her clothing that made it seem so. He had
|
|
never seen her so completely covered before. She knelt down beside him and
|
|
lifted her hand to touch his temple, her eyes closed and her familiar scowl of
|
|
concentration creasing her forehead. He felt something. A feather-light
|
|
sensation of peculiar intimacy. After a moment she let her hand fall and sat
|
|
back on her heels, shaking her head, seeming confused.
|
|
|
|
"You feel it?"
|
|
|
|
She nodded.
|
|
|
|
"Is it your doing?"
|
|
|
|
She hesitated, then after a moment, nodded, without conviction.
|
|
|
|
Her confusion bothered him. If she didn't know how she had done it, could
|
|
she reverse it?
|
|
|
|
"Can you undo it?" he asked.
|
|
|
|
For several moments, Etain did not respond. Finally, she shrugged. He
|
|
frowned.
|
|
|
|
"You don't know?"
|
|
|
|
She shook her head. For just a moment, he felt afraid, and with the fear,
|
|
anger. He didn't want to stay this way. He didn't like it. The new abilities
|
|
had begun to affect his thought processes, and it was becoming clear that it
|
|
would continue to do so. Her hand closed around his wrist and he looked at
|
|
her. There was apprehension in her eyes, and determination as well. After he
|
|
met her eyes, she let go, touched her chest, then held out her hands fingers
|
|
curved and lifted as she slowly moved her hands toward his face, in her gaze
|
|
a question. He nodded.
|
|
|
|
"I need you to try. The change is not a part of who I was meant to be."
|
|
|
|
She nodded, slowly, and closed her eyes. Her fingers found his face, her touch,
|
|
as before, cool and slightly electric. He found his eyes drifting closed as
|
|
well, felt as if he were drifting off to sleep, very relaxed, peaceful.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
______________________________________________________________________________
|
|
copyright 1992, Kellie Matthews-Simmons
|
|
matthews_k@cubldr.colorado.edu//matthewk@spot.colorado.edu
|
|
all rights reserved
|
|
|
|
Standard Disclaimers Apply
|
|
|
|
From JULIA@Jetson.UH.EDU Tue Aug 31 16:34:14 1993
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From: JULIA@Jetson.UH.EDU
|
|
To: jfy@cis.ksu.edu
|
|
Subject: (TNG) Silence, A Novel by Kellie Matthews-Simmons, Part 8
|
|
Date: Tue, 31 Aug 1993 12:44:45 -0500 (CDT)
|
|
|
|
CHAPTER EIGHT
|
|
|
|
Jean-Luc woke with a start, suddenly completely aware. He felt Etain's
|
|
fingers, warm now, leave his face. He opened his eyes to find her still on her
|
|
knees beside him. For an instant her face betrayed loss, then she looked
|
|
down, letting her hands fall into her lap. She sighed. He sensed a gap, like
|
|
the space left by a lost tooth, before the new one grows in, and knew it was
|
|
done. Oddly, despite not liking the change, he found he missed it now. He
|
|
kept that feeling from his voice as he sat up straighter.
|
|
|
|
"Thank you."
|
|
|
|
She nodded, still looking at the floor. He wondered what she was thinking,
|
|
what she was feeling. Without the empathy, he could no longer interpret her
|
|
easily. Was that why she had changed him in the first place? Had she done it
|
|
on some instinctive level, to facilitate communication? If so, that explained
|
|
much.
|
|
|
|
"Are you well?"
|
|
|
|
She nodded, looking up finally. She looked tired, but not as drained as she
|
|
had after her healings. She also looked unhappy, and resigned. Before he
|
|
could ask why, she rose, in that fluid way that reminded him she was not as
|
|
human as she looked. She took three steps toward the door, then looked back
|
|
at him and motioned for him to follow.
|
|
"Wait, where are you going?"
|
|
|
|
Her face went bleak. She pointed, towards the floor, then clenched her fist
|
|
and put it between her breasts. Sometimes, her elementary sign was as
|
|
eloquent as the best human speech. He stood.
|
|
|
|
"Not yet, Etain." he said gently. "It will take me a little while to
|
|
organize an away team, stay here, rest, I will come get you when it's time."
|
|
|
|
With a barely perceptible nod, she turned and went back to the couch, picking
|
|
up her book, holding it, unopened, against her. He hesitated a moment,
|
|
something was wrong, but nothing he could identify. He remembered Guinan's
|
|
comment about Etain's fragility, and hoped she was stronger than she seemed at
|
|
this moment. She would have to be, to take him where she needed to. He rose,
|
|
wondering why he felt as if he'd been sitting for hours in one position, and
|
|
left the room. On his way to his own quarters, he concluded that it was most
|
|
likely due to the fact that he hadn't gotten any real exercise in days. As
|
|
soon as he had things in hand, he would have to get back on a regular schedule.
|
|
It had been a while since he had practiced his fencing, that would be a good
|
|
start.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Guinan stood behind the bar trying to let the familiarity of Ten-Forward wash
|
|
away the bitterness, and the nagging feeling of unease that had lingered since
|
|
her talks with Etain, and then the Captain. She couldn't shake the feeling
|
|
that something terrible had been set in motion. If she could only see what it
|
|
was, perhaps she could also see a way around it, but so far that had eluded her.
|
|
Her attention was caught by the entry of Will Riker and Wesley Crusher.
|
|
>From the gleam of mischief in Riker's eyes, he was up to something. She
|
|
moved down toward the end of the bar, close enough to hear their
|
|
conversation. She could use a little mischief at the moment.
|
|
|
|
"... so you were impressed by our visitor?" Riker asked the younger man.
|
|
|
|
Wesley's eyes went unfocused for a moment, then he grinned sheepishly. "I
|
|
guess that was a little obvious. She's very pretty, don't you think?"
|
|
|
|
Riker ignored the question for a moment and turned toward Guinan.
|
|
Knowing Wes couldn't see it from where he stood, he winked broadly at her.
|
|
|
|
"Argellan ale, please, Guinan."
|
|
|
|
She nodded. "Coming right up, and for you, Wes?"
|
|
|
|
Still waiting for Riker's answer, Wesley was a little startled by her query and
|
|
had to think for a moment. "Uh, orange juice, I guess."
|
|
|
|
She turned to prepare their drinks, ears focused as Riker finally replied.
|
|
|
|
"Actually, yes, I do. She is quite attractive."
|
|
|
|
Wesley seemed pleased. Guinan turned to place their drinks on the counter
|
|
and saw Riker looking absently at the ceiling, something he was prone to
|
|
doing when he was trying to stave off laughter. Wesley picked up his glass
|
|
and took a sip, which was apparently Riker's cue.
|
|
|
|
"You know, she kind of reminds me of your mother."
|
|
|
|
Wesley narrowly avoided spluttering his mouthful of juice all over the
|
|
counter, managing instead to swallow it as he turned horrified eyes on Riker.
|
|
|
|
"My mother?" he demanded in tones similar to those he would have used
|
|
had someone had compared Etain to a Regulan blood-worm.
|
|
|
|
Guinan smothered a chuckle. Riker's sense of humor could be wicked.
|
|
|
|
"Mmmhmm. I noticed it right off."
|
|
|
|
"My mother?" Wesley repeated, aghast. "You've got to be kidding!"
|
|
|
|
Riker shook his head, innocently. "Don't you think so?"
|
|
|
|
"No!"
|
|
|
|
"Really? Odd, they're about the same height and coloring, and build. Small,
|
|
neat, not excessive... if you know what I mean."
|
|
|
|
A blush washed up into Wesley's face and he hastily took a drink. Guinan
|
|
could almost see him thinking, trying to find some way to refute his
|
|
companion's words. A disgusted frown etched its way across his face as he
|
|
realized he couldn't. Then, after a moment, a gleam almost as wicked as
|
|
Riker's lit his young face. Guinan waited expectantly as he turned back to
|
|
Riker with a canary-eating grin.
|
|
|
|
"So, you think my mom's good-looking?"
|
|
|
|
Guinan let out one short chortle, then choked it back, disguising it as a cough
|
|
as she watched Riker back-pedal, frantically trying to figure a graceful way
|
|
out. Before he had found one, his combadge signaled him with three short
|
|
chirps. With a look of utter gratitude, he touched it to acknowledge the
|
|
signal, and spread his hands apologetically.
|
|
|
|
"Sorry, can't talk now, got to go." He picked up his ale and gulped down a
|
|
few swallows before he set it down and headed for the door.
|
|
|
|
After he had gone, Wesley turned to Guinan with a grin. "So, how'd I do?"
|
|
|
|
"Oh, pretty good, I'd say," she answered noncommittally, but returned his
|
|
grin.
|
|
|
|
"I thought so too." he said, lifting his glass in a silent toast. "Thanks for
|
|
the advice. It's the first time I've managed to turn the tables on him."
|
|
|
|
"Keep it up, pretty soon he'll go looking for less wary prey."
|
|
|
|
Wes laughed and nodded, then wandered away to a table where several
|
|
young people his age sat. She watched him go, momentarily startled by the
|
|
maturity she saw in him. He had grown up so much of late. But then,
|
|
humans did that, they were a fast-maturing species. Guinan wondered how
|
|
long it would be before Beverly dropped by to talk about Wes. Guinan had
|
|
become her choice of sympathetic ear where Wesley was concerned, since
|
|
Deanna had no experience with this phase of parenting, and Guinan had
|
|
much. A new group wandered into the bar, and she turned, smiling, to help
|
|
them.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Riker paced nervously outside the Captain's quarters, trying to find the best
|
|
way to phrase what he had come to talk about. Finally deciding there was no
|
|
best way, he touched the call switch. Almost instantly, Picard's usual
|
|
peremptory invitation opened the door. Riker stepped in, much relieved to
|
|
find Picard sitting at his desk, looking at his comscreen, alone. That made
|
|
it a little easier.
|
|
|
|
"Number One, what can I do for you?"
|
|
|
|
"We need to talk, sir. Permission to speak freely."
|
|
|
|
Picard's eyebrows rose in curiosity. "Of course, Will, please, sit down."
|
|
|
|
He motioned to a chair in his living-area, and left his desk to take a seat on
|
|
the settee across from it. Riker sat, fidgeted for a moment, then finally
|
|
looked up uncomfortably.
|
|
|
|
"Captain, I thought I should point out that there are rumors beginning to
|
|
circulate about you, and Etain."
|
|
|
|
Picard sighed, and made a disgusted face. "Guinan warned me that might
|
|
happen, but I thought she was wrong. For heaven's sake, Will, I've spent
|
|
scarcely an hour alone in her company since she came aboard!"
|
|
|
|
Riker stared at him, surprised. An hour? Picard stared back at him, scowling.
|
|
|
|
"Surely you put no credence in these rumors, Number One?"
|
|
|
|
"I... ah..." Riker closed his mouth. If the captain wanted to pretend he
|
|
hadn't just spent at least the last four hours in Etain's quarters, should he
|
|
contradict him? He debated with himself for a moment, and saw Picard's eyes
|
|
narrow. He was getting angry. Uh oh.
|
|
"I see that you did. I should think you knew me better than that by now. I do
|
|
not mix business with pleasure, Will."
|
|
|
|
"Captain, wait. I do know that it's not generally in your nature, but
|
|
considering the amount of time you've spent..."
|
|
|
|
"What, an hour? Aren't you being just a little judgemental?"
|
|
|
|
"Damn it, Captain, it wasn't a hour, and we both know it! Four hours ago I
|
|
tried to contact you to let you know Deanna was on her way back via long-
|
|
range shuttle. You didn't respond. I queried your whereabouts, and the
|
|
computer located you in the guest suite on deck eight. I requested that I be
|
|
notified when you left it. That happened five minutes ago."
|
|
|
|
Picard sat back, obviously nonplussed. "Four hours ago?"
|
|
|
|
Riker nodded.
|
|
|
|
"Are you certain?"
|
|
|
|
"Absolutely."
|
|
|
|
Picard got to his feet and began to pace. Suddenly he stopped, and turned, a
|
|
suspicious frown on his face.
|
|
|
|
"This isn't one of your practical jokes, is it?"
|
|
|
|
"No sir, it is not."
|
|
|
|
"Computer, ship's time please."
|
|
|
|
The computer responded pleasently. "The time is twenty hours, ten minutes,
|
|
forty-seven seconds."
|
|
|
|
Picard went noticeably pale.
|
|
|
|
"Six hours, my God, six hours!"
|
|
|
|
"Sir?"
|
|
|
|
Picard sat down, slowly, and shook his head. "The last thing I remember
|
|
happened almost six hours ago. After I left the bridge I saw Guinan, and then
|
|
went to speak with Etain. She agreed to guide an away-team to the Rua'Shi
|
|
city so we could search for evidence that the plague which decimated her
|
|
people was genetically engineered. Then I asked her to remove the psionic
|
|
amplifier which she had somehow activated in me. She agreed to try, and we
|
|
began. The next thing I recall happened less than fifteen minutes ago."
|
|
|
|
A ripple of discomfort made Riker sit straighter. "You remember nothing
|
|
between the beginning of that process, and now?"
|
|
|
|
"Not a damned thing. I remember her beginning the meld, and feeling tired.
|
|
It seemed only a few minutes later when I woke, and realized she had done as
|
|
I asked. The ability she had evoked in me was gone. I had no idea it had
|
|
been that long, until you told me, just now. Your attempt to contact me must
|
|
have occurred sometime in the interval."
|
|
|
|
Riker nodded, scowling. "You voluntarily submitted to this procedure?"
|
|
|
|
"Submitted? Will, I asked her to do it! I'm not cut out to be an empath! You
|
|
know what the really odd thing is? She didn't even know she'd done it until I
|
|
pointed it out. It was totally unconscious on her part."
|
|
|
|
Riker sighed. "Captain, you do realize that in six hours, she could have
|
|
significantly tampered with your mind."
|
|
|
|
Picard nodded. "I understand your fear that she has done so, however I do
|
|
not believe she has. However, I am perfectly willing to have Doctor Crusher
|
|
perform whatever tests she feels may be necessary to certify that I am still
|
|
myself."
|
|
|
|
"What makes you so certain that she hasn't done anything? You didn't know
|
|
she'd done it in the first place."
|
|
|
|
Picard looked at him, his eyes bleak. "What she did was harmless. I have
|
|
been... tampered with, in other ways, on three occasions, Number One. The
|
|
energy being, the Ferenghi, the Borg.... Believe me, one knows. Also, you
|
|
found her, you know what was done to her. A psychic violation is as
|
|
traumatic as a physical one. She would not do to another what was done to
|
|
her."
|
|
|
|
The memory of finding Etain made Riker swallow hard. Of all Picard's
|
|
arguments, this one was the most convincing.
|
|
|
|
"So, you think it simply took her six hours to undo what she'd done?"
|
|
|
|
"I don't know, but I am going to ask her."
|
|
|
|
"After we make a trip to sickbay." Riker said, expecting an argument. To his
|
|
surprise, he didn't get one.
|
|
|
|
"Of course. As I said, I believe it the easiest way to allay your fears. By
|
|
the way, exactly when does Counselor Troi arrive?"
|
|
|
|
"She should be here any time now. Her ETA was twenty-one hundred
|
|
hours."
|
|
|
|
"Good. She can add her seal of approval to Dr. Crusher's. Would you ask
|
|
Guinan to bring Etain to sickbay, so I can ask her exactly what did happen?
|
|
Guinan can serve as interpreter, if necessary."
|
|
|
|
Riker nodded. "Of course."
|
|
|
|
Picard stood up. After a moment, Riker hastily stood up as well, and
|
|
followed him out of the room.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Deanna Troi had sensed that something was up as far away as Starbase 214.
|
|
Her mental connection with Jean-Luc Picard, and the surer one with Will
|
|
Riker had told her something unusual was going on, but not what. Once she
|
|
would have put her feeling down to her own insecurity, but she had learned
|
|
to trust her instincts. She was needed, of that she was certain. To her
|
|
irritation, she could only sense a disturbance, not its nature. Even so, it
|
|
had been enough to start her scrambling for transportation, not wanting to wait
|
|
for her scheduled rendezvous when she was required immediately.
|
|
|
|
It had taken her mother's influence to get her aboard the diplomatic long-
|
|
range shuttle that was passing Halvam on its way to a rendezvous with the
|
|
USS Powell. They had, somewhat reluctantly, agreed to swing in close
|
|
enough to transport her over to the Enterprise. She had no doubt but that
|
|
Lwaxanna would call in the debt in the not too distant future. Perhaps
|
|
another visit to the Enterprise, to pester Deanna, and the Captain, and turn
|
|
everything upside-down for the duration of her stay. Deanna only hoped it
|
|
was worth it.
|
|
|
|
As they came closer, the feelings intensified, and became more perplexing.
|
|
There was something different about what she sensed from Picard.
|
|
Something... softer? Was that the right word? Not really, Something more
|
|
emotional. No, she decided finally, it was something more empathic. It was a
|
|
shock to come to that conclusion. What had occurred in her absence, to bring
|
|
out in him that particular ability? Not that he did not have a goodly share of
|
|
ordinary human empathy, but the empathy of her species, the ability to sense
|
|
emotions as others read the written word, that had never been part of his
|
|
makeup.
|
|
|
|
By the time the ships were within an hour of rendezvous, she began to sense a
|
|
new presence, one she had never felt before. A being, terrified, alone, and
|
|
desperately unhappy. It was female, but with a peculiar mix of child-like and
|
|
mature qualities, not like a Human adolescent, but something far more
|
|
reminiscent of a young but physically mature Betazed. Whatever the form it
|
|
wore, the power of the mind she sensed was awesome. Even among her own
|
|
race, who were among the most psionically gifted races in the galaxy, such
|
|
strength was unusual.
|
|
|
|
Whoever she was, her presence was, without doubt, the source of the change
|
|
in Picard. She could sense the resonances, the tenuous links. Even though in
|
|
the three years since she had become Picard's counselor, she had grown
|
|
accustomed to dealing with the uncontrolled emotions of others, had learned
|
|
to screen them, so they did not cut so deeply into the heart of her self; this
|
|
terrible sadness and fear was so powerful it made her want to weep. With
|
|
rigid control, she channeled the pain away, and kept herself at least
|
|
physically calm. Mentally she was a wreck.
|
|
|
|
Her shuttle was in final approach, when suddenly something changed. With
|
|
a tremor like the snap of an overstressed harp-string, Picard was himself
|
|
again. In that other presence, the sense of aloneness multiplied a hundred-
|
|
fold. Deanna clutched the padded armrests of her seat with a stifled moan,
|
|
and quickly shut down her sensing ability. It was too much even for her
|
|
practiced mind to bear. The Arkanoi ambassador looked at her with concern,
|
|
hir feathered ruff flaring as s/he leaned toward Deanna.
|
|
|
|
"Are you well, daughter of Lwaxanna?" S/he trilled.
|
|
|
|
Deanna straightened, and nodded, smiling reassuringly. The last thing she
|
|
needed was for Rlai to tell her mother she was ill.
|
|
|
|
"Yes, Ambassador, I'm fine. Just pleased to be home." she lied.
|
|
|
|
Rlai shook hir head in agreement. "Understand, home is best."
|
|
|
|
Deanna nodded, and hoped it wouldn't be much longer. As if in answer to
|
|
her wish, her combadge chirped, and Chief O'Brien's familiar brogue came
|
|
over the channel."
|
|
|
|
"We have your coordinates, counselor, but unless you want to arrive in a less
|
|
than dignified position, I suggest you stand up."
|
|
|
|
Deanna laughed. Having no desire to end up sprawled on her rear end on
|
|
the transporter pad, she did as he asked, and picking up her bag bowed
|
|
politely to Rlai.
|
|
|
|
"Thank you Ambassador, for the ride. If I can ever do a service for you, let
|
|
me know."
|
|
|
|
"Assuredly," Rlai warbled, and ducked hir head until hir beak touched the
|
|
spill of pastel pink feathers on hir breast. "Regards to parent."
|
|
|
|
"Assuredly," Deanna agreed, and touched her combadge. "Ready, Mr.
|
|
O'Brien."
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Rlai's beaky, feathered countenance faded, to be replaced by Miles O'Brien's
|
|
wide, pleasant smile. The stocky, good-natured transporter chief was one of
|
|
Deanna's favorite people, probably because he had never come to her with
|
|
any problem she had to solve, in the next five minutes, or he would have a
|
|
breakdown. It was refreshing. He nodded, acknowledging her arrival.
|
|
|
|
"Welcome aboard, counselor."
|
|
|
|
"Thank you, Mr. O'Brien." Deanna stepped off the transporter dais and
|
|
glanced around, having expected Will Riker to meet her. The fact that he
|
|
hadn't told her that she was right. Something important was going on.
|
|
Cautiously, she tested the emotional waters, and to her relief found that
|
|
things were relatively normal. She turned back to the transporter chief.
|
|
|
|
"So, Miles, tell me what's been going on here since I left?"
|
|
|
|
O'Brien shook his head with a sigh. "Better to ask what hasn't happened since
|
|
you left! Have you got a spare hour?"
|
|
|
|
"It's been that bad?" She set her bag down and leaned over the transporter
|
|
console, propping her elbows on it. "Tell me, I'm all ears."
|
|
|
|
O'Brien eyed her up and down, favored her with a broad wink, and shook his
|
|
head. "No, that you're not. But anyway, I suppose I should start with the
|
|
Captain's disappearance."
|
|
|
|
"With what?" Deanna demanded, stunned.
|
|
|
|
"Don't worry, we got him back, but he was gone for three days."
|
|
|
|
"I see." she relaxed a little. "Go on."
|
|
|
|
By the time O'Brien finished, Deanna didn't know whether she was more
|
|
confused or less. Despite the fact that he was usually one of the best
|
|
information sources on the ship, he had only sketchy details, and rumors she
|
|
absolutely did not believe. It was obvious that she would have to get Picard
|
|
and Riker to fill in the details. She thanked O'Brien and left the transporter
|
|
room after querying Picard and Riker's whereabouts. Finding that they were
|
|
both in sickbay made her pace a little quicker, though she was certain neither
|
|
of them was hurt. That she would have been able to feel. She felt Guinan's
|
|
familiar presence and was pleased that they had brought her in. In her own
|
|
absence, Guinan was the best person to call on, as she might be able to help
|
|
the owner of the powerful mind that she had sensed earlier was approaching
|
|
collapse.
|
|
|
|
She entered sickbay and stood quietly in the outer office, unabashedly
|
|
eavesdropping both psychically and aurally, before going in. Beverly and
|
|
Will were both emitting worry, and annoyance. Comparatively, Picard was
|
|
an ocean of calm, though he also seemed a little annoyed. Guinan was...
|
|
Guinan, and the newcomer was as bad, if not worse, than before. Cautiously,
|
|
Deanna attempted to sort out the tangled skeins of emotion, and managed to
|
|
identify the primary threads. Fear, regret, and a confused braid of
|
|
love/respect/anger. Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the room.
|
|
|
|
Picard saw her first, and his smile was genuine and reassuring.
|
|
|
|
"Deanna, welcome home."
|
|
|
|
As Picard's greeting was echoed by Will and Beverly, Deanna smiled, unable
|
|
to resist as she was suddenly enveloped in the warm mental welcome of three
|
|
of her closest friends. If ever she doubted that this was, indeed, home, the
|
|
memory of this reception, and countless others like it, would assuage that
|
|
doubt.
|
|
|
|
"Thank you, Captain, I am very glad to be back."
|
|
|
|
She turned toward Guinan and her companion, and froze, as the full impact of
|
|
the other's silent pain hit her. She swallowed hard, letting it flow over,
|
|
rather than into her, Finally it passed, and she tried to project reassurance
|
|
as she studied the one unfamiliar presence in the room. She was small, inches
|
|
shorter than Deanna, with hair almost the exact same shade as Beverly
|
|
Crusher's, though her skin was darker, almost green-tinged. She wore a loose
|
|
ivory-colored tunic and leggings which seemed to bear Guinan's stamp, save
|
|
for the gold ornaments which gleamed on it; Guinan's clothes were always
|
|
bare of decoration. Although she appeared youthful it took Deanna only
|
|
seconds to decide she was an adult, of whatever species she was. The
|
|
nuances of emotion she manifested were not those of a child. The red-haired
|
|
woman held out her hands, her expression repentant.
|
|
|
|
__I am sorry, I have not had to hold my thoughts in check for so long, I have
|
|
forgotten how. I did not mean to hurt you,__ she then glanced at Guinan
|
|
__...or you.__
|
|
|
|
Deanna nodded. "I understand, it caused no harm, I am fine. I am Deanna
|
|
Troi. I am the ship's counselor." She underscored her words with telepathy,
|
|
knowing that would convince where words might not.
|
|
|
|
"This is Etain," Picard said, easing the awkward pause which threatened.
|
|
"She is mute."
|
|
|
|
"But she is an accomplished telepath." Deanna said with a smile, offering her
|
|
hand.
|
|
|
|
Etain reached out, touching Deanna's fingertips with her own. Through the
|
|
touch, Deanna heard the bitter response to Picard's introduction which
|
|
echoed in Etain's mind. 'Etain, of nothing, and no one, and no place' and
|
|
immediately understood the source of the pain she had felt. Etain had sensed
|
|
the warmth and welcome Riker, Picard and Crusher had extended, and had
|
|
reacted to it with a combination of fierce desire, and jealousy that had been
|
|
psychically and physically painful.
|
|
|
|
Deanna tried to convey her understanding, but as she did Etain snatched her
|
|
hand back, and looked away, her face coloring. Deanna let it go, for the time
|
|
being, knowing she would come back to it later. Even without empathy, she
|
|
could sense that it would take very little to shatter Etain's control
|
|
completely right now.
|
|
|
|
Beverly Crusher seemed to understand the need for a distraction, and jumped in.
|
|
"Deanna, I'm glad you're here. I've run all the standard psych tests on the
|
|
captain, and can find nothing out of the ordinary, but your confirmation
|
|
would be reassuring."
|
|
|
|
Concerned, Deanna pivoted toward Picard, automatically extending psychic
|
|
antennae. "What is it, what's wrong?"
|
|
|
|
Picard shook his head. "Nothing, I just need to convince these two of that.
|
|
They are concerned that Etain may have meddled in my mind. I've told them
|
|
that what she did was to un-meddle. Guinan has confirmed that, but your
|
|
judgement would be welcome."
|
|
|
|
Picard's words echoed what Troi had felt aboard the shuttle. The sudden
|
|
recovery of normalcy. She nodded.
|
|
|
|
"I will try, but it really would be helpful to know exactly what you've been
|
|
up to since I left. As it is, I don't know what it is I'm looking for." She
|
|
complained, testing and prodding nonetheless.
|
|
|
|
"It's a long story."
|
|
|
|
"I had part of it from Chief O'Brien. I know that you were missing for several
|
|
days, and returned injured. Also that shortly after you returned, Will and
|
|
Worf brought back a severely injured woman from the surface, who
|
|
managed, somehow, to be whole and walking within a matter of hours. That,
|
|
I assume, was Etain."
|
|
|
|
Picard nodded. "All correct. The parts you are missing will take a little
|
|
explaining, but I will try to be brief. Etain is not human, but of a species
|
|
she calls Rua'Shi, apparently native to this world. There is a good
|
|
possibility that they are Human-Vulcan hybrids. She has, according to Guinan
|
|
and T'kar, rather extraordinary array of psionic abilities."
|
|
|
|
"What sort of abilities?"
|
|
|
|
"Projective and receptive telepathy, healing, empathy, and some degree of
|
|
prescience."
|
|
|
|
Deanna glanced at Etain, who did not look like she enjoyed being discussed
|
|
as if she wasn't there. It was a formidable combination of abilities.
|
|
Something Picard had said a suddenly impinged on her consciousness, and
|
|
she focused on him again.
|
|
|
|
"If her race is native to Halvam, how can they be Human-Vulcan hybrids?"
|
|
|
|
Picard exchanged glances with Will Riker, his expression grim. "A good
|
|
question, Counselor. We really don't know, though Lieutenant T'kar has a
|
|
theory which involves the Preservers. At any rate, it is fairly certain her
|
|
people have been all but wiped out by the human colonists. That we can get
|
|
into later. I was attacked while investigating, Etain healed me, and hid me
|
|
until I was able to return to the Enterprise."
|
|
|
|
Deanna opened her mouth to ask the reason for the sudden surge of regret
|
|
and guilt Picard broadcast. Before she could, he continued.
|
|
|
|
"Apparently at some point during my stay with her, she unconsciously
|
|
altered my mind, T'kar said she enhanced my own abilities. I believe she did
|
|
this in order to communicate more effectively, since she is unable to speak,
|
|
and has never been taught sign. The difficulty occurred when I asked her to
|
|
remove that enhancement. It is gone, but apparently it took her six hours to
|
|
do it. Six hours of which I have no memory. Will and Beverly are
|
|
understandably concerned as to what else she might have done during that
|
|
time."
|
|
|
|
__I did nothing!" Etain interjected strongly. __Nothing save what he asked.
|
|
They have no cause for worry, I would not so impose my will on another.
|
|
That way lies darkness!__
|
|
|
|
Troi could sense no deceit. Etain told the truth, at least as she perceived
|
|
it. Deanna had one concern, but it was not one she could voice aloud, not
|
|
without risking humiliating Etain. Carefully she projected her question on a
|
|
narrow band.
|
|
|
|
__I know that you believe you made no other changes, but the time involved
|
|
is very long. If you were able to make the changes originally without either
|
|
of you knowing it, why did it take so long to reverse them?__
|
|
|
|
What she sensed in response to her question was complex. Fear,
|
|
embarrassment, regret, sorrow, guilt, and a thread of defiance. Deanna found
|
|
that there were strange echoes of Picard in Etain, her thoughts and emotions
|
|
ran along oddly similar paths. Had the connection, however temporary,
|
|
altered Etain's mind, not Picard's? Her attention was brought back by Etain's
|
|
reply.
|
|
|
|
__I did not know how to undo it. It took time to learn.__
|
|
|
|
Deanna frowned. Etain was holding back. __That is not all,__ she prompted.
|
|
|
|
The guilt grew stronger, and Etain's eyes dropped. She did not reply for
|
|
several moments, then, finally, __No,__ she admitted. __I did not want to do
|
|
it. I fought myself, one way, and the other, for a long time. I wanted to
|
|
keep the bond, it is all I have here. Without it I am alone here. Once I was
|
|
not afraid of being alone. Now I am.__
|
|
|
|
Her chin came up, and she met Deanna's gaze full-on. __But I did as he
|
|
asked. It is done.__
|
|
|
|
A barrage of images lurked behind Etain's fear, half-seen, indistinct, yet so
|
|
clear: enemies, pain, helplessness, complete and utter helplessness;
|
|
encroachment on the inmost self. Deanna drew back, shocked, but that short
|
|
glimpse had revealed the elusive connection she had wondered about. Etain's
|
|
thought-patterns seemed to echo Picard's not because of any psionic
|
|
connection, but because they shared a common fear; one which shaped some
|
|
of their responses and reactions. The fear of being controlled, of the loss of
|
|
self, of defenselessness. All the trauma associated with rape, whether
|
|
physical, or mental. She felt tears gathering and quickly blinked them away.
|
|
|
|
"I'm so sorry..." she whispered, then realized she had verbalized the thought.
|
|
She shook her head and stood up a little straighter as she turned to Beverly.
|
|
|
|
"I find nothing out of the ordinary, Doctor. The Captain is fine. Sorting out
|
|
the links and disconnecting them was a difficult process, and took a great deal
|
|
of time, and energy. I have no reservations about Captain Picard's fitness for
|
|
command."
|
|
|
|
Guinan grinned. "See? I told you so."
|
|
|
|
Beverly relaxed visibly, Deanna felt her worry ease as she sighed and
|
|
shrugged.
|
|
|
|
"Yes, you did. But I am relieved to have your opinion confirmed."
|
|
|
|
Beverly's annoyance had not abated. She rounded on Picard, index finger out
|
|
and jabbing toward his chest.
|
|
|
|
"You, however, should know better. Next time you decide to have someone
|
|
muck around with your mind, you get someone to be an observer!"
|
|
|
|
Picard nodded, smiling wryly. "Aye, Doctor."
|
|
|
|
Beverly shook her head disgustedly. "You do seem to have a knack for getting
|
|
into this sort of situation. I've only been on this ship three years, and
|
|
this is the third time some being has decided you'd be a great addition to the
|
|
fold!"
|
|
|
|
The smile faded from Picard's face, his color seemed to fade, and grow ashen.
|
|
"I am well aware of that, Beverly, well aware."
|
|
|
|
The doctor frowned, momentarily puzzled, then she realized what she'd
|
|
done, dredging up nightmares of the machine-human hybrids who had tried
|
|
to make him their own. Her irritation faded instantly, replaced by
|
|
compassion, and that more-than-compassion that Deanna occasionally sensed
|
|
between the two of them. She put a hand on his arm. "Jean-Luc, I'm sorry. I
|
|
didn't mean to remind you."
|
|
|
|
"It's all right, Beverly." His color began to come back as he gently moved
|
|
Beverly Crusher's hand from his arm, and turned to Riker.
|
|
|
|
"Will, assemble an away-team, including bio-medical and archaeological
|
|
personnel, when you've done so, Etain will guide you to the Rua'Shi city.
|
|
Guinan, please look after Etain until Commander Riker is ready. Counselor
|
|
Troi, I would like to speak with you for a few moments in my ready-room as
|
|
soon as it is convenient."
|
|
|
|
"Of course, Captain. I can accompany you there now."
|
|
|
|
"Very good."
|
|
|
|
He took a step, hesitated, and looked past Deanna to where Etain stood.
|
|
|
|
"Etain, will you be alright with Guinan?" Picard asked, his voice lower,
|
|
warmer than usual.
|
|
|
|
Etain nodded, subdued.
|
|
|
|
"It will not be long, I promise, I know waiting is the worst part."
|
|
|
|
Again, Etain's response was a nod. Picard frowned slightly, then shook his
|
|
head and headed for the exit. Deanna followed closely, keeping pace with him.
|
|
They reached the turbolift and entered it, along with several other crew
|
|
members. Deanna wondered about the change in his voice and manner when he spoke
|
|
to Etain. He was a difficult man to read, keeping himself under control so
|
|
tight even a full Betazed would have trouble reading him. Had he developed
|
|
some sort of feelings for Etain? If so, did he even realize it? She decided
|
|
he probably did not. It wasn't something he would want to know, and he was
|
|
very good about not seeing things he didn't want to see.
|
|
|
|
"So, how was your seminar?"
|
|
|
|
"What?" Deanna jumped, startled out of her reverie. "Oh, the seminar. Fine,
|
|
I suppose. We'll get a few good counselors out of the lot. I'm afraid that I
|
|
was somewhat distracted, wondering what was happening here. I could
|
|
sense that something was wrong, not what, or when, just a vague sense of
|
|
unease. I'm afraid I had to ask a favor of my mother to get transportation
|
|
back."
|
|
|
|
"I'm sorry for that. I know you don't like to owe your mother favors."
|
|
|
|
Deanna laughed. "Captain, no one likes to owe my mother favors! She
|
|
invariably collects what is owed! But, what's done is done. I don't regret it."
|
|
|
|
"I'm glad, and I appreciate your timing. We have a slight problem which you
|
|
may be able to solve."
|
|
|
|
"Which is?"
|
|
|
|
"What to do with Etain, and her Rua'Shi, once we have them."
|
|
|
|
"I'm afraid I need more information before I can make a recommendation,
|
|
Captain."
|
|
|
|
"I know that. I had intended for you to read my log entries which summarize
|
|
the past few days to familiarize yourself with the situation. T'kar may have
|
|
some useful comments as well."
|
|
|
|
Deanna nodded, but before she could frame a reply, the turbolift doors
|
|
opened on the bridge. Picard stepped out, waited just long enough for her to
|
|
step out, then took off for the ready-room at a pace just short of a run. She
|
|
had always suspected he did that just to see if whoever was with him would
|
|
try to keep up, or drop back to a more comfortable pace. She decided to opt
|
|
for the latter, and entered the room a few seconds behind him. He was
|
|
already seated, scowling at the comscreen, fingers moving surely on
|
|
touchpads as he accessed his files. Deanna walked over to the desk and stood
|
|
in front of it, hands on her hips. She knew he saw her, because she suddenly
|
|
sensed amusement, and saw the nearly imperceptible curve of his mouth. He
|
|
finished what he was doing, then looked up.
|
|
|
|
"Yes, counselor? Am I to assume I'm 'on your list' again?"
|
|
|
|
"You are. Why didn't you tell me it was still bothering you?"
|
|
|
|
"Why didn't I tell you what was still bothering me?" he asked blandly.
|
|
|
|
"You know very well what I mean. The Borg. Have the nightmares
|
|
returned?"
|
|
|
|
"No, not often, anyway. In all honesty, do you truly believe I will ever be
|
|
completely free of them?"
|
|
|
|
Deanna sighed, and sat down in the chair closest to him. "I don't know. I had
|
|
hoped so. How bad is it?"
|
|
|
|
"I can live with it. I think it has surfaced right now because I feel a sort
|
|
of," he smiled. "...empathy, with Etain. At least part of what happened to
|
|
her bears some uncomfortable similarities to what happened to me."
|
|
|
|
Once again, Deanna felt a wave of guilt from him. She frowned, and leaned
|
|
forward.
|
|
|
|
"I know what you refer to, I sensed it, when I asked why it took her six hours
|
|
to break the bond; and you're right, there are similarities between your
|
|
experiences. But why is it you feel responsible for what happened to her? I
|
|
know you too well to believe you capable of that."
|
|
|
|
Picard stood and began to pace, then stopped to stare at the commemorative
|
|
plaque on the wall, and finally looked up, his eyes shadowed.
|
|
|
|
"You know me too well, granted. You know me better than any other being in the
|
|
galaxy, I suspect. No, I was not, physically, responsible, however it is
|
|
difficult for me to dismiss culpability when it was my impatience that created
|
|
the opportunity for it to occur."
|
|
|
|
"Tell me." she prompted.
|
|
|
|
He stood for a few moments before returning to his seat, and turning the
|
|
comscreen toward her. "Read the log entries, then I'll fill in the details."
|
|
|
|
She nodded, knowing that was the best she was going to get. He wanted time
|
|
to rehearse what he was going to say, time to try to camouflage, and conceal
|
|
his feelings. That was alright with her, it wouldn't work anyway. Hiding a
|
|
smile, she turned to the screen and began to read.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Counselor Troi left the Captain's office feeling quite dissatisfied. She had
|
|
sensed him holding out on her, but, as usual, had been unable to pry loose the
|
|
iron grip he kept on his emotions. He had been more than usually forthcoming
|
|
about everything that had happened on Halvam, but she suspected that was simply
|
|
as cover for what was really bothering him. She wondered if Etain's experience
|
|
had brought Picard's memories of the Borg too close to the surface. It had taken
|
|
months of work to get him to stop blaming himself for the death and destruction
|
|
the Borg had wrought through him. Now those feelings seemed perilously close
|
|
to the surface once more. She sighed, not caring that the soft sound drew
|
|
curious glances from the bridge personnel as she waited for the turbolift. As
|
|
Ship's Counselor, an occasional sigh was her prerogative.
|
|
|
|
The lift arrived and she stepped inside, reviewing what Picard had told her
|
|
about Etain. It was a wonder she was alive, and mentally functional after all
|
|
she had gone through. She was definitely a survivor. Deanna frowned.
|
|
Being a survivor sometimes brought its own set of problems, and Etain
|
|
obviously had some of those. Her total lack of compunction about stealing
|
|
and her desperate need for emotional contact were the most obvious. What
|
|
Deanna found surprising was that Etain had latched onto Picard to supply that
|
|
contact. Picard, with the exception of a few Vulcans, was one of the least
|
|
emotional people she knew. Why choose him?
|
|
|
|
She stepped back from her own involvement and looked at the situation
|
|
clinically. It did have a sort of logic about it. After so long without
|
|
companionship, perhaps Picard's distance was an appropriate interim step, to
|
|
help Etain become accustomed to dealing with others before she flung herself
|
|
headlong into the give and take of more openly emotional people.
|
|
|
|
The Counselor smiled, pleased with her solution, then wryly scolded herself
|
|
with a quiet admonition. "You know it's rarely that simple, Deanna Troi.
|
|
Don't make unwarranted assumptions."
|
|
|
|
The lift doors opened to admit a young human ensign from Engineering and
|
|
a pair of Kardassans in Sciences' teals who wore lieutenant's pips. She
|
|
nodded pleasantly to the trio, and stepped out of their way, hoping none of
|
|
them had heard her talking to herself. After a moment the human cleared her
|
|
throat nervously, and turned toward Deanna, worry obvious in the furrows
|
|
that marred the smooth, dark skin of her forehead.
|
|
|
|
"Counselor Troi, I'm sure you would know. Is everything all right?"
|
|
|
|
"How do you mean, Ensign...?" she paused, prompting.
|
|
|
|
"Tyrrell, Kattrin Tyrrell," she supplied quickly. "I mean, well, there's been
|
|
all kinds of uproar. The Captain was gone, but now he's back, but we're still
|
|
here. I thought this was just a routine diplomatic stopover."
|
|
|
|
Deanna hid her surprise at the fact that neither Picard or Riker had given out
|
|
any explanation for their delay. "Well, Ensign Tyrrell, it was supposed to be
|
|
routine, I'm afraid it's become a little more complicated than that. I can't
|
|
explain without permission, but it's nothing you need to be concerned about.
|
|
It's a Federation judiciary matter."
|
|
|
|
Ensign Tyrrell looked faintly disappointed. "Oh."
|
|
|
|
Deanna chuckled. "How long have you been with the Enterprise, Ensign
|
|
Tyrrell? I don't believe I've met you before."
|
|
|
|
"I came aboard thirty-two days ago, at Starbase Eleven."
|
|
|
|
"Well, don't worry. You'll get your excitement soon enough. It's rare for us
|
|
to go more than a month without any disruptions."
|
|
|
|
Tyrrell gave her a slightly embarrassed grin. "Oh. Was I that obvious?
|
|
|
|
"Only to a Betazoid." Deanna lied.
|
|
|
|
"Good. I'd hate to think I was."
|
|
|
|
"Not at all, if you will excuse me, this is my deck."
|
|
|
|
The Kardassans moved aside in the peculiarly simultaneous way they had.
|
|
Tyrrell nodded her thanks, and Deanna stepped out of the lift onto Deck
|
|
Eight. She stood for a moment, trying to decide whether to go to her own
|
|
quarters, or visit Etain to see what she could learn about the young woman
|
|
firsthand. Curiosity won out, and she headed in the opposite direction from
|
|
her own cabin.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Etain heard the tone she had come to realize meant someone desired entry to
|
|
her room. She welcomed the distraction, having dwelled too long on
|
|
memories. For a moment she felt helpless, wondering how she was to let her
|
|
visitor in. Both Guinan and Picard had spoken to allow someone else access.
|
|
She could not. She knew how to let herself out, though, and that should at
|
|
least cause the door to open. She stood up crossed to the door, and put her
|
|
hand on it. Obediently it slid open with a soft hissing sound.
|
|
|
|
Etain found herself nose-to-nose with the lovely dark-haired woman Picard
|
|
had called Counselor Troi, who looked a little startled as she took a step back.
|
|
|
|
"I'm sorry, were you going out?" she asked. Her voice was melodic, the
|
|
sound rounded and fluid. Etain wondered briefly if she sang, and shook her
|
|
head in answer, then remembered that like Guinan, this one could hear her.
|
|
|
|
__No, but it is the only way I knew to open the door. I cannot tell it to
|
|
open, as you do.__
|
|
|
|
The other woman smiled. __I understand. If I may come in, I can show you
|
|
how.__
|
|
|
|
Etain nodded and stepped aside to allow her to enter. The Counselor stepped
|
|
in, turned, waited for the door to close behind her, then pointed to a small
|
|
lighted pad beside the door.
|
|
|
|
__Here, to signal it to open, press the top key. This is also how you set your
|
|
lock. If you would like to be private, simply touch these three keys
|
|
simultaneously. To release the lock, just press the three again.__
|
|
|
|
Etain nodded her comprehension and practiced with the keys for a few
|
|
moments, until she felt at ease with the mechanism, then allowed the door to
|
|
cycle closed and turned to the Counselor with a smile.
|
|
|
|
__Thank you. This place holds many secrets for one uninitiated in its ways.
|
|
For instance, I know there is a way to get water, because Guinan did so
|
|
earlier, but I do not know how she did it.__
|
|
|
|
Her guest shook her head ruefully. __I'm afraid we do tend to take these
|
|
things for granted. May I give you a short course in how to use the
|
|
synthicator? You can get anything you need from it.__
|
|
|
|
__My needs are few.__
|
|
|
|
The counselor chuckled. __You may find that having ready access to a vast
|
|
array of goods tends to increase the amount of things you think you 'need', at
|
|
least until you get used to it.__
|
|
|
|
Etain nodded, thoughtfully. __I can see how that might be, yet what else do I
|
|
need?__ she gestured around the room, then to herself. __I have shelter, and
|
|
clothing. Apart from that, I need only food and water.__
|
|
|
|
Troi regarded her chuckled ruefully. __I wish my needs were as simple. I'm
|
|
afraid I'm rather material. I like things.__
|
|
|
|
Etain looked at her, puzzled, uncertain as to what sort of things the other
|
|
woman referred. She was suddenly curious about her, wondering what,
|
|
exactly, a counselor did, and why the others could not communicate as she
|
|
did.
|
|
|
|
__Why is it you can speak with me, you, and Guinan; but the others
|
|
cannot?__
|
|
|
|
The counselor looked up, seemingly surprised. Etain noticed for the first time
|
|
that her large, dark eyes seemed to have no pupils, or rather, to be all pupil.
|
|
|
|
__You don't know? Guinan and I are not human, well, I am half-human, my
|
|
father was from Earth. My mother's world is called Betazed, its inhabitants
|
|
are telepathic and empathic by nature, unlike most humans. I inherited some
|
|
of those gifts from my mother, though they are somewhat tempered by my
|
|
human genes.__
|
|
|
|
Understanding came. __So, you are different from Picard, as he is different
|
|
from me? Not the same blood, though in some ways similar.__
|
|
|
|
__Yes, exactly.__
|
|
|
|
__And Guinan, she is of Betazed also?__
|
|
|
|
__No. To be honest, I don't know exactly where Guinan is from, though I do
|
|
know that her people were largely destroyed by beings called the Borg.__
|
|
|
|
The image the counselor supplied called up sudden pain, terror, memories
|
|
not her own, but overwhelming. She shuddered, and her hand crept up to
|
|
her face. __Borg. Yes. They hurt him, Picard.__
|
|
|
|
Etain sensed the counselor's sudden, sharp interest.
|
|
|
|
__Yes, they did, how did you know that?__
|
|
|
|
__I touched them, inside him. Hidden there, deep, waiting, to tear at him like
|
|
carrion-birds when he sleeps. I know that fear. His fear is mine.__
|
|
|
|
The counselor stared at her, obviously shocked. __He let you see that?__
|
|
|
|
Etain shook her head. __Not intentionally. He only meant to comfort, for I
|
|
blamed myself, I could not help but see it.__
|
|
|
|
Troi shook her head. __He was right, Etain, never blame yourself. It wasn't
|
|
your fault, not at all.__
|
|
|
|
__I know that, now. I am learning to accept it. It is sometimes hard.__ She
|
|
met the other's probing gaze evenly, to let her see she was not lying. After a
|
|
moment the counselor seemed satisfied.
|
|
|
|
__If you ever have trouble believing it, come see me. That's my job, what I do
|
|
here.__
|
|
|
|
__What is?__ Etain asked puzzled.
|
|
|
|
__I help people deal with their fears, their hopes, their disappointments,
|
|
anything emotional.__
|
|
|
|
Etain thought about that for a moment, the concept strange, but not offensive.
|
|
__That seems a worthy skill, but is it not very draining?__
|
|
|
|
__Yes, often it is. But it can also be very rewarding.__
|
|
|
|
Etain nodded. __I see that it could be.__ She paused, studying the other
|
|
woman's features for a moment, then frowned, puzzled anew by her eyes,
|
|
this time by the shadowy coloration around them. Impulsively she leaned
|
|
closer and touched a finger to the counselor's brow-arch, where the color
|
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darkened in an outswept stroke. Startled, Troi pulled back, and Etain's gaze
|
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fell as she colored, embarrassed.
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__I'm sorry, I did not mean to startle you, I just wondered.__
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__About what?__
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Etain stared at her fingertip and found it frosted with a soft mauve color,
|
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like the dust a moth's wings leave when touched. She held out her finger.
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__This. The color. I have never seen eyes like yours, I wondered if it was
|
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part of you.__
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To her relief the counselor didn't seem offended, in fact, she laughed. __No,
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not at all, except that my conceit is a part of me. I use cosmetics, to
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enhance my eyes. I'm afraid I'm rather vain about them.__
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Etain shook her head. __I do not know this word, 'cosmetics.' What is it?__
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__Here, it's much easier to show you than to try and explain.__ She motioned
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for Etain to follow her to the multi-lighted panel across the room, grinning.
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__This should be fun, I haven't done this since Tasha...__
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The thought trailed away into a distant sadness. Etain sensed that the person
|
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of whom Troi had spoken was no longer living. Immediately she regretted
|
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asking about the cosmetics. She didn't want to bring up painful memories.
|
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__Forgive me, I intrude.__
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The counselor straightened and sighed. __No, not at all. I just hadn't
|
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thought of her in a long time. She was a friend.__
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Etain nodded understanding. Death was not an easy thing, she knew that
|
|
well. She offered what comfort she could.
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__Her memory lives in you, perhaps that will draw her spirit when the
|
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Mother brings new life through you.__
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The counselor looked at her oddly, obviously puzzling out her meaning. __If
|
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I understand you correctly, you mean if I have a child, her soul might come to
|
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inhabit it?__ she paused until Etain nodded, then smiled. "That would be
|
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quite an experience. A child like Tasha would certainly make life interesting.
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But, let me show you how to use the synthicator, and then we'll play.__
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__Play?__
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The counselor smiled. __You'll see.__
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###
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______________________________________________________________________________
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copyright 1992, Kellie Matthews-Simmons
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matthews_k@cubldr.colorado.edu//matthewk@spot.colorado.edu
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all rights reserved
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Standard Disclaimers Apply
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Status: RO
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From: JULIA@Jetson.UH.EDU
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To: jfy@cis.ksu.edu
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Subject: (TNG) Silence, A Novel by Kellie Matthews-Simmons, Part 9
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Date: Tue, 31 Aug 1993 12:44:58 -0500 (CDT)
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CHAPTER NINE
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Riker stood across the width of the desk from Picard, feet planted firmly,
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arms crossed, his very posture radiating stubbornness.
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"No, Captain. Absolutely not. We don't know what we'll find down there,
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and I will not put you at risk. You know I'm right on this."
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Picard's face was set, faintly disgusted. "Technically, yes, Number One, but I
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still feel I should be there. Guinan said something bad was going to happen."
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"All the more reason for you to stay here! Besides, we haven't let Delvekia
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know for certain that we got you back, and if you were seen, it could tip our
|
|
hand. It just doesn't make sense for you to go."
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Picard sighed, rubbed the back of his neck, and nodded, finally. "Very well,
|
|
you win again, but under protest."
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Riker ruthlessly controlled the grin that threatened to break out, knowing it
|
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would annoy Picard no end. "Protest noted, sir. Would you like to see the
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away-team roster I've assembled?"
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"I would, thank you."
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Riker handed the datapadd across the desk and waited while Picard reviewed
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it. After a moment, Picard nodded and handed the padd back to him.
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"Looks good, Number One. Why Ensign Aalgan?"
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"He spent two years at the archaeo-biology station on Ettar Seven. I thought
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he might be useful here."
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"Good choice. I've asked Mr. Data to review the files on previous Preserver
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finds, he may be able to make correlations between our findings here, and
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those documented elsewhere."
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"I certainly hope so."
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"When have you scheduled your departure?"
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"Fourteen-hundred hours."
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"Good. Transporter-room Four?"
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"Yes, sir." Riker turned to go, but was brought up short by the Captain's next
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words, as offhand as their delivery seemed, he knew they were deadly
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serious.
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"Oh, and Commander, issue phasers. Guinan's warnings aren't to be taken
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lightly."
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"No, sir, definitely not. I'll have Lieutenant Worf assign extra security as
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well."
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"That would be prudent. I'll get Etain, and explain why I'm not going, on the
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way to meet you."
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Picard didn't sound as though he were particularly excited by that prospect.
|
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Riker nodded, and left the room, knowing better than to comment.
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|
|
###
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|
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|
Etain stared at herself in the mirror, and couldn't resist reaching out to
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|
touch the smooth, cool surface, wonderingly. The only mirrors she had ever
|
|
seen had given back a wavery, golden image that she had assumed was herself.
|
|
Seen in this one, she was entirely different, not altogether due to Deanna's
|
|
artistry. She was older, but then it had been years since she had bothered to
|
|
look at herself. What gave her the most pause was how strongly she had
|
|
come to resemble her grandmother. Granted, she had only seen Mhaiv in the
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|
winter of her years, even so she could see that the bones that underlay her
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skin were the same, her coloring the same, the set of her jaw had the same,
|
|
slightly stubborn look. The resemblance was almost uncanny. Lightly she
|
|
traced the contour of one cheek in the mirror.
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"Well?"
|
|
|
|
Her eyes met the counselor's in the mirror, and she smiled, tentatively. __I
|
|
like it.__
|
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Deanna grinned back at her. __I'm glad. I think I'm rather good at it.
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|
Perhaps if I ever tire of counseling, I can go into cosmetology.__
|
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|
|
Etain understood from Deanna's tone that she was joking, and smiled, though
|
|
she didn't understand the reference. She stepped back to get a fuller view of
|
|
herself just as the door signal sounded. She walked to the door, hesitated a
|
|
moment trying to remember which key to press, then ostentatiously pressed
|
|
the correct one. As the door slid open, she glanced back over her shoulder at
|
|
Deanna with a triumphant grin. Deanna returned the smile. Etain turned to
|
|
see who her visitor was found Picard standing there, looking at her with a
|
|
thoughtful, almost puzzled expression on his face.
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|
|
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She wondered what puzzled him, and motioned him in. He complied, his
|
|
gaze sliding past her to the Counselor. After a moment he nodded toward
|
|
Etain.
|
|
|
|
"Your handiwork, Counselor?"
|
|
|
|
Deanna nodded, a tentative expression on her face, her hands behind her
|
|
back like a wayward child's, hiding the cosmetic brush she still held.
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Picard studied Etain a moment longer, then a slight smile curved his mouth.
|
|
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|
"Very nice."
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|
|
Deanna colored. "I had a good subject to begin with. She's lovely."
|
|
|
|
Picard nodded. "I quite agree with you, Counselor."
|
|
|
|
Etain looked from one to the other, convinced they were teasing her, but
|
|
sensed no insincerity. She frowned, never having thought of herself as
|
|
particularly attractive. It was a strange thought. She looked back at Picard,
|
|
and realized suddenly why he was there. Instantly her spirits fell. It must
|
|
have shown on her face, for his expression softened, and he shook his head.
|
|
|
|
"I'm sorry, Etain, but it is time. In order to bring those who hurt you, and
|
|
your people, to justice I must ask this of you, otherwise I would not."
|
|
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|
She nodded understanding, eyes on the floor. She felt Picard watching her
|
|
for a moment, then he shifted his attention to the Counselor again.
|
|
|
|
"Will you go with them? She may need you, to communicate with, if for no
|
|
other reason."
|
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|
|
"Of course sir. I would be happy to."
|
|
|
|
"Thank you. Commander Riker is assembling the away-team in Transporter-
|
|
room Four as we speak. Will you meet us there?"
|
|
|
|
Deanna nodded, and took the hint. Moments later Etain and Picard were
|
|
alone in the room. Picard began to pace, alerting Etain to his discomfort and
|
|
unease. She waited for him to speak, not knowing how to prompt him.
|
|
Finally he did.
|
|
|
|
"I wanted to accompany you there, but I have been asked, or rather, told to
|
|
remain here. It is a regulation, a stricture placed on me by my position. I
|
|
have no choice."
|
|
|
|
A sudden tightness began to form in her stomach. He was not going. Somehow
|
|
that changed things, made them far more difficult, more fearsome. She could
|
|
feel that he was unhappy with the situation, but honestly felt he had no
|
|
alternative. That made it difficult, she wanted to protest, to refuse to go,
|
|
but could not without causing him pain. She took a deep breath, trying to
|
|
calm herself, and nodded, without looking up.
|
|
|
|
He studied her for a long moment, then sighed. "I'm sorry. I feel I'm letting
|
|
you down. I understand you are probably angry with me, with good reason,
|
|
but Riker and Worf are the best I have, and the Counselor will be there as
|
|
well. You will be safe."
|
|
|
|
She nodded again, forcing herself to meet his eyes, to assure him she was not
|
|
angry. His jaw tightened at the fear she could not keep from her gaze. She
|
|
shook her head vehemently, trying to convey her insistance that he not
|
|
punish himself, then pointed toward the door. He nodded.
|
|
|
|
"Yes, we need to go. Etain, I will be here when you return, if you need to
|
|
talk. Perhaps Deanna or Guinan can translate."
|
|
|
|
Once more she nodded, and walked to the door without waiting for him.
|
|
Best to get it done, and quickly. He allowed her to exit first, then took the
|
|
lead. To distract herself, she wondered what a "transporter-room" was.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Etain found it strange to walk the long, broad passages in the light. After
|
|
the clean sleek newness of the Enterprise, the smooth stone tunnels seemed
|
|
strangely unfamiliar. Her companions seemed unusually subdued, none of
|
|
them indulging in their usual easy chatter, as if they knew that they should
|
|
respect the quiet. She glanced at the walls, and saw that the creamy stone of
|
|
the corridor was now streaked with the rich mahogany colored rock from
|
|
which the Mother's Gate was cut. She was startled by how quickly they had
|
|
reached it, for it seemed too soon to have reached Dhara. The unaccustomed
|
|
light and noise of the others had disoriented her. A few feet further on, the
|
|
interlace carvings began, confirming their position. Only one more turn and a
|
|
few hundred feet lay between them and the Gate.
|
|
|
|
A tendril of unease uncoiled in her stomach, speeding her breath, sheening her
|
|
skin with cold moisture. She stopped just before the last turning, her fists
|
|
clenched. Something was wrong. She had finally come to realize that feeling
|
|
was more than simple apprehension. Holding up her hands to halt the
|
|
others, she took a few steps ahead and stood, every sense extended, trying to
|
|
identify what it was her othersense warned her of. The first thing that came
|
|
was scent. The sharp, acrid scent of sweat, the alien smells of manufactured
|
|
metal and cloth, the clashing notes of carelessly applied perfumes. Living
|
|
smells, in the place where there should be none, where only the dry, sweet
|
|
dust of the dead should scent the air. Seconds later she sensed other minds,
|
|
confirming what her nose had discovered already, sensed one mind in
|
|
particular, burning like a black star among those of lesser darkness. A
|
|
shudder went through her.
|
|
|
|
"Etain?"
|
|
|
|
She jumped. Riker's whispered query seemed to echo and resound in the
|
|
stillness. His eyes met hers, questioning. She tried to think how to tell him,
|
|
to convey who and what she sensed. It was nearly impossible. It was so
|
|
frustrating to be so unable to communicate! A hand touched hers, a
|
|
sympathetic presence manifesting.
|
|
|
|
__Etain, what is it?__ Deanna asked.
|
|
|
|
Etain immediately felt foolish. She had forgotten the counselor's presence.
|
|
Having someone to communicate with had not yet become routine. She
|
|
pointed ahead.
|
|
|
|
__Tall-ones, many of them, waiting ahead. The Darkmind among them.__
|
|
|
|
The counselor's dark eyes widened slightly, but she nodded and turned
|
|
immediately to Riker.
|
|
|
|
"She senses others waiting for us in the city, including the one she calls the
|
|
Darkmind."
|
|
|
|
"Delvekia?" Riker asked.
|
|
|
|
Etain nodded, recognizing the name.
|
|
|
|
"Mr. Worf, do your sensor readings confirm?"
|
|
|
|
The Fierce-one nodded, his perpetual scowl deepening. "Sensor readings are
|
|
sporadic due to reflection and ghosting, but I am picking up indeterminate
|
|
life-sign about approximately thirty-four meters ahead."
|
|
|
|
Riker grinned humorlessly. "A surprise party. How nice. Well, shall we see
|
|
if we can't surprise them instead? Etain, is there another way into your city?"
|
|
|
|
This time she was ready. She turned to Troi to respond.
|
|
|
|
__There is, but it will take time to reach it.__
|
|
|
|
Deanna relayed, and Riker's grin became more feral.
|
|
|
|
"Are we in a hurry?" he asked, then continued without waiting for an
|
|
answer. "Do you think they are aware of the other entrance? Is it obvious?"
|
|
|
|
__No. It is small, I doubt they know of it. It was little-used.__
|
|
|
|
Riker waited for Deanna to relay, then nodded, seeming pleased. "Good.
|
|
That's what I hoped you'd say. Will you take us there?"
|
|
|
|
Etain nodded. That needed no translation, and Riker stepped back to let her
|
|
by him, motioning the others to follow.
|
|
|
|
"Phasers on stun, and stay alert. We don't know if they've sensed us."
|
|
|
|
Etain saw several of them put their hands to the odd-looking devices which
|
|
hung from belts. Since they normally wore neither belts or devices, she had
|
|
wondered what they were. Matched with their actions, Riker's words seemed
|
|
to indicate that they were weapons of some sort. They looked ineffective,
|
|
having no sharp edge or point, and were too small to make an effective club.
|
|
Strange weapons for a strange people. She led them back the way they had
|
|
come, finally reaching the passage which led to the Ghost Gate after a good
|
|
half-hour's walk. It was slower going uphill. The side tunnel was small, and
|
|
only allowed them to walk single-file, and most of them had to stoop to avoid
|
|
the low ceiling. Etain felt momentarily superior that she did not, but then,
|
|
the passage had been built for her kind, not for humans.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
As they neared Dhara once more, Etain felt the fine hairs on the back of her
|
|
neck rise and her skin began to prickle unbearably. With those symptoms
|
|
came sudden memory of the reason why this passage had been little used,
|
|
and why it was named the Ghost Gate. It was inhabited by a spirit which
|
|
caused discomfort to those who ventured too near. It had never harmed
|
|
anyone, but the discomfort was real enough. She glanced back at her
|
|
companions, wondering if they sensed it too, and from the frown on Riker's
|
|
face, judged that he, at least, had. The odd, pale being who seemed to have
|
|
no thoughts spoke suddenly.
|
|
|
|
"Commander, I am reading a very strong energy field here."
|
|
|
|
Riker seemed to relax. "That explains the sensations I've been feeling, then.
|
|
Is it a natural field, dilithium, or cordium?"
|
|
|
|
"No sir," Data replied. "It appears to be deliberately generated, the readings
|
|
follow too coherent a pattern for the source to be natural. I believe there is
|
|
a power conduit of some sort which parallels this passage."
|
|
|
|
"A power conduit? Whose, for god's sake? The Rua'Shi were bronze-age at
|
|
best!"
|
|
|
|
"Yes sir. However, as you recall, there is a high probability that they were
|
|
placed here by the Preservers, who often left behind devices using their
|
|
technology. This could be their work."
|
|
|
|
"Interesting. Haven't all the Preserver sites found to date been non-
|
|
functional?"
|
|
|
|
"That is correct, sir. It is unusual, however there appears to be a strong
|
|
probability that this site is still functioning."
|
|
|
|
Riker whistled, shaking his head. "Now that would be a find. Keep scanning,
|
|
let me know what you discover."
|
|
|
|
"Aye sir"
|
|
|
|
Etain had followed the conversation with some bewilderment. When they
|
|
had finished, she turned toward Deanna.
|
|
|
|
__Who are these 'Preservers' of whom they spoke? What have they to do
|
|
with Dhara, and the Kin? Why does this... energy field the Silent-one speaks
|
|
explain the ghost?__
|
|
|
|
Deanna chuckled. __It's no ghost, Etain. What you feel is the response of
|
|
your body to the energy present in this place.__
|
|
|
|
__I do not understand 'energy'.__
|
|
|
|
__Energy is what powers our ship, what makes the lights aboard it glow,
|
|
what powers the sun. There are many different ways to produce it, but that is
|
|
what we mean when we say energy.__
|
|
|
|
Etain nodded slowly, the concept somewhat clearer to her, but still not quite
|
|
real. There was so much to learn, too much. __And the Preservers, what are
|
|
they?__
|
|
|
|
Deanna hesitated a moment, then slowly responded. __We believe your
|
|
people may have been brought to this world long ago from somewhere else,
|
|
from another world, similar to this, possibly even the same world that Riker
|
|
and the Captain are from. There was a race of beings who did this with many
|
|
species, we call them The Preservers.__
|
|
|
|
Etain smiled. Finally, something she understood! __You speak of the Shining
|
|
Ones. Our songs tell of them, and of the long voyage from First Home to
|
|
Second Home, and finally, here, to Third Home. Before Second Home we
|
|
were round-eared, like you, and were unskilled in the Mind-ways. It was
|
|
there that the Shi came to us, and joined their blood to ours, changing us, and
|
|
them.__
|
|
|
|
The expression on the counselor's face was one of astonishment. __Have you
|
|
told the captain of this?__
|
|
|
|
Etain felt a moment's apprehension. __I did not, should I have? Did I do
|
|
wrong?__
|
|
|
|
Deanna hastened to reassure her. __No, no of course not. But tell me, why
|
|
didn't you tell him?"
|
|
|
|
Etain looked at her blankly for a moment, then shrugged. __He did not ask.
|
|
Is it important?__
|
|
|
|
__Perhaps. It would, at least, have confirmed our suspicions.__
|
|
|
|
__Oh.__ Etain paused a moment, then sent again. __You said First Home
|
|
might be the same world that Picard and Riker were born to?__
|
|
|
|
__Yes, my father was of that world as well.__
|
|
|
|
Etain sensed emotions as the dark-haired woman thought of her home, her
|
|
parents. They were confused, unclear, very unlike her usual even temper.
|
|
|
|
__You have difficulties, at home?__ she asked.
|
|
|
|
Deanna looked up, startled, and her eyes met Etain's in quick confirmation.
|
|
__How did you... of course. You have that gift as well. Telepathy and
|
|
empathy do not always go hand-in-hand,__ She smiled ruefully. __Yes, you
|
|
saw clearly. My mother, though I love her dearly, can be somewhat
|
|
overwhelming when she sets her mind to something.__
|
|
|
|
__And what she has set her mind to is at odds with your desires?__
|
|
|
|
__Precisely. She is especially forceful on the subject of grandchildren.__
|
|
|
|
Etain frowned thoughtfully, her gaze ranging to where Riker walked a few
|
|
steps behind them, then returning to Deanna. __I have seen couples on the
|
|
ship, and children...__ her implication was clear.
|
|
|
|
Deanna smiled. __True, but it isn't that simple. To be honest, I don't think
|
|
I'm quite ready for that yet.__
|
|
|
|
Etain's frown grew deeper. She inhaled deeply, as if testing for a certain
|
|
scent, and her gaze traveled Deanna's body before lifting again, puzzled.
|
|
__Forgive me, but it is clear that the Mother rules you. I do not understand
|
|
why you say you are unready.__
|
|
|
|
Deanna did not reply for so long that Etain wondered if she had somehow
|
|
offended the other woman. Finally the Counselor shook her head, obviously
|
|
puzzled.
|
|
|
|
__I think we have a clash of cultures here. I don't understand what you mean
|
|
when you say 'the Mother rules' me. Can you explain?__
|
|
|
|
Once more Etain's gaze swept her companion's body, the she looked down at
|
|
herself and touched her chest, then her hips. "You are...__ she paused in
|
|
frustration, unable to articulate the concept. She tried again. __Your body
|
|
is a woman's in all ways, unlike mine. She has not touched me as She has
|
|
you.__
|
|
|
|
Deanna stared, a slight frown marring the smoothness of her forehead. __I
|
|
still don't, no, wait, perhaps I do,__ The frown cleared and she smiled.
|
|
__Are you trying to say that I am fertile? Of childbearing age, past
|
|
menarche?__
|
|
|
|
Etain nodded eagerly. __Yes! Exactly!__
|
|
|
|
Deanna's smile grew gentler. __Etain, just because one is physically mature
|
|
does not mean one is emotionally ready to become a parent. Some people
|
|
never reach that state.__
|
|
|
|
Etain did not reply, mulling that concept. Since she had been so young when
|
|
the others had died, there were many things she did not understand, or only
|
|
dimly understood. Certain details of creating children were among them.
|
|
Although she had escaped from the Darkmind's prison before he could make
|
|
her a child forever, for some reason she had remained untouched by the
|
|
Mother's hand. She was half-woman, with age she had gained a slight depth
|
|
of breast and hip, but not the changes inside which would make her a
|
|
woman. Not that it mattered, there was no mate for her, no one to create a
|
|
child with. The only males of her kind left were forever children.
|
|
|
|
She stumbled over nothing, and blinked back tears until she could see clearly
|
|
again. What did it matter, this journey? Why did she lead these people into a
|
|
place that held nothing but silence, and never would? It was their kind who
|
|
had brought the silence in the first place. She stopped. The counselor
|
|
touched her shoulder reassuringly.
|
|
|
|
__It's alright, Etain, to be sad, to mourn for them. It's alright to be angry.
|
|
But remember. We are not one, we are individuals, every one of us different,
|
|
just as you are. Surely there were good and bad among your folk too."
|
|
|
|
Etain tried to remember, had there been? Yes. More than once Mhaiv had
|
|
been forced to use discipline. Solt, who had hurt a young woman who
|
|
refused him, Cyran who had stolen food others had prepared because she
|
|
was too lazy to prepare her own, angry Nela who had lifted his hand against
|
|
Mhaiv because he thought he knew more than she, who had lived through
|
|
four sleeps to his two! There had been a few, and she could see that left
|
|
unchecked, any of them, especially Sela, could have become kin to the
|
|
Darkmind. She sighed. She could not condemn all Tall Ones anymore than she
|
|
could honestly praise all her own folk. For a little while she had forgotten
|
|
their differences, now she was the one who felt different, alien. She pushed
|
|
herself away from the wall where she had leaned and looked back at the
|
|
others who were watching her anxiously. They were good, and they wanted
|
|
to help. She moved on.
|
|
|
|
She heard shimmer-skinned Data speaking quietly with Riker as they followed,
|
|
something about power again, and more words she did not fully comprehend,
|
|
because in the android she could not feel the thoughts which underlay the words.
|
|
It was strange to think of the Ghost as thoughtless energy. She had almost
|
|
enjoyed the fear of it, now there was only the discomfort without the spice of
|
|
the vaguely illicit. They did not like illusions, these First-World humans,
|
|
they preferred facts. She liked illusion, at least the illusion that
|
|
everything would somehow be right again. It was better than the bleak pain of
|
|
knowing it would not.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
The gateway surprised her. She had been so deep in thought that she was
|
|
almost through it when she realized where she was. She stopped abruptly,
|
|
grabbed the edges of the gate and dug in her heels to keep the others from
|
|
pushing her through as they bumped into her, surprised by her sudden halt.
|
|
After a moment of confusion, they disentangled and Riker stepped forward,
|
|
obviously annoyed. Before he could speak she put her finger to her lips and
|
|
pointed. His annoyance disappeared.
|
|
|
|
"Dhara?" he whispered.
|
|
|
|
She nodded. He looked out, saw how little light there was in the vast cavern
|
|
and quietly told those carrying the lights to dim them, then he called Worf
|
|
forward.
|
|
|
|
"What are we facing, Worf, can you tell anything?"
|
|
|
|
The dark warrior held out his-strange box, waited a moment, then nodded, a
|
|
feral grin lifting one corner of his mouth. "Aye sir. Readings have cleared
|
|
considerably now. Thirty-one men total, placed randomly in groups of two
|
|
and three, all carrying standard security-forces phasers, one man alone near
|
|
the center of the cavern. We should have no problems."
|
|
|
|
"Good. Any sign that they are aware of us?"
|
|
|
|
"No sir. They are all within a few yards of the main gateway, in all
|
|
likelihood waiting for us to emerge. No doubt their sensors have as much
|
|
difficulty with the composition of the passage as ours did."
|
|
|
|
"No doubt. Well Mr. Worf, I leave it in your capable hands."
|
|
|
|
Etain watched Worf speak with the rest of the security detachment, low-
|
|
voiced and urgent, then he turned.
|
|
|
|
"We are ready sir. Non-security personnel will wait here until we signal that
|
|
is safe."
|
|
|
|
Etain sense a momentary surge of irritation in Riker, but he controlled it and
|
|
merely nodded. Worf and the others brushed past them as they slipped
|
|
quietly into the dimness. Etain watched intently, following Worf's mental
|
|
traces. She realized with a shock that he was pleased with his role. He
|
|
actually enjoyed this! She shook her head at the strangeness, wondering if all
|
|
his kind were so filled with violence. A harsh kind of existence at best, did
|
|
they never indulge in the quieter emotions?
|
|
|
|
A sudden shrill whine and burst of light made her wince, and within seconds
|
|
the air was full of such light and sound, and the startled cries of the men who
|
|
had waited in ambush. She felt the abrupt cessation of consciousness in first
|
|
one, then another, it seemed only a moment later when all was quiet. Etain
|
|
sensed the fierce-one's exultation and knew all had gone as he had planned.
|
|
But there was one mind still conscious, one dark, hot, hate-filled mind still
|
|
aware. She shuddered, and in concert with the spasm heard his voice, as
|
|
silken and menacing as she remembered.
|
|
|
|
"Come out little witch, I know you're there. Come face me."
|
|
|
|
Without thought she started forward, and then winced in pain as Riker
|
|
grabbed her, his big hands clamped hard around her upper arms. His gaze
|
|
was fierce as he shook her slightly, like a child.
|
|
|
|
"Don't. He's baiting you. Wait for Worf."
|
|
|
|
Etain struggled wildly against his strength, frantic to escape the memories it
|
|
stirred, until she realized he did not understand that she only wanted free
|
|
and would not run. She nodded to convey her comprehension and went still,
|
|
and gradually his grip loosened, then fell away. Another shudder racked her,
|
|
a bitter taste flooding her mouth as memories roiled and leapt within her.
|
|
She spat to keep from having to swallow, knowing if she did the nausea
|
|
would overwhelm her. The counselor's presence was a gentle reassurance
|
|
beside her, steadying. After a moment the sickness subsided and she turned
|
|
her attention outward, listening. There were footsteps, scuffling sounds, then
|
|
finally Worf spoke.
|
|
|
|
"I have him, sir. You can come down."
|
|
|
|
Riker's held breath sighed out and she felt him relax even though he was not
|
|
touching her. He picked up one of the cold torches and thumbed it to full
|
|
brightness, then ducked out, striding toward the sound of the Klingon's voice.
|
|
Deanna stopped her, her eyes concerned.
|
|
|
|
"Are you alright?" she asked gently.
|
|
|
|
Etain nodded, unable to bring herself to use mindspeech, knowing it would
|
|
convey far too much to the empath's sensitive mind. She forced herself to
|
|
step out, then stopped, letting the two physicians pass her. She managed to
|
|
stop trembling and walked stiffly, wondering why it was so dark, then she
|
|
realized that none of them knew how to awaken the lights. Glad for some
|
|
normal task, she sent out the command and was pleased when they
|
|
responded moments later. She had been half-afraid that they would no
|
|
longer answer her, she had changed so much since she had last commanded
|
|
them that she barely recognized herself.
|
|
|
|
She heard startled comments at the sudden brightening of the room. Deanna
|
|
looked at her oddly, but she chose to ignore it. She looked down into the
|
|
center of the cavern and stiffened. Worf held the Darkmind, inside the ring of
|
|
stones where only the Communcator and her kin should stand. As if that were
|
|
not bad enough, the long, flat central stone where Mhaiv's body had rested was
|
|
empty. Her stillness shattered, and she ran, passing Riker to skid to a halt
|
|
before the ardt-aa, looking vainly for the white cloth, for the slight brown
|
|
bones. There was nothing. A fire began to burn in her stomach and she turned,
|
|
fists clenched, toward the man who regarded her with a slightly amused air,
|
|
though his arms were locked behind him in sleek metal bands.
|
|
|
|
He smiled. "Looking for something?" he asked archly.
|
|
|
|
She opened her mouth to scream her question, and only a hiss of air emerged,
|
|
her throat working painfully as it tried to obey her impossible command. She
|
|
began to shake, and reached down to trail her fingers over the stone,
|
|
searching for some trace, some remnant. There was nothing. Only the stone
|
|
itself, oddly vibrant beneath her touch, warm, almost alive. As if through
|
|
water she heard him again.
|
|
|
|
"There was some trash there, I had it disposed of. Disgusting mess."
|
|
|
|
The burning grew stronger, centered between her breasts. It hurt. Tendrils of
|
|
heat seemed to slide upward from the stone, into her hands, pulsing through
|
|
her veins to merge with the heat below her heart. She winced, trying to pull
|
|
herself away from the ardt-aa, but could not seem to move. She heard
|
|
Deanna moan, and knew the empath felt her pain.
|
|
|
|
She closed her eyes, found the thread of awareness which tied her to the other
|
|
woman and snapped it. She was vaguely aware of Deanna slumping to the ground
|
|
near Riker, but knew she was essentially unhurt. Freed of that hindrance, she
|
|
looked up at the Darkmind and saw nothing but a man-shaped darkness, something
|
|
thick and swirling blackly, shot with red and purple. She would have cried out
|
|
if she had been able, the sight was so awful. In that instant she realized that
|
|
whatever he had once been, the Darkmind was no longer truly human.
|
|
|
|
"So little one, almost the last one left. Too bad you can't save the others.
|
|
You took so long getting here that they've run out of time."
|
|
|
|
Etain's vision snapped back to normal and she stared once again at a man.
|
|
An expression of mock-sorrow twisted his features. What did he mean? Who
|
|
was out of time, who couldn't she save? Others? Other what...? Then she
|
|
knew, and the moment she knew, she felt them die. Fire, sound, heat, pain
|
|
blasted through her mind and she arched in agony, feeling what the last of
|
|
her Kin felt in the last few seconds they were aware, as they died. The
|
|
moment seemed to last forever, but finally it faded, leaving a vast aching
|
|
emptiness where she had cherished those last few links, where all her dreams
|
|
had been.
|
|
|
|
She opened her eyes with difficulty, found herself on her knees beside the
|
|
ardt-aa, her palms still firmly planted on its hot surface, her cheek against
|
|
it, feeling almost blistered. She lifted her head slowly, and looked at Worf,
|
|
who seemed puzzled by her actions, then at Riker, who was trying to revive the
|
|
counselor, the gentleness of his touch betraying their former intimacy; past
|
|
him to the two physicians and the others. They seemed to move so slowly, as
|
|
if time moved only for her. She realized they did not know. Only she knew
|
|
what the monster had done. Finally her gaze came to rest on him as he stood
|
|
there gloating. Rage exploded through her, and as it did power poured into
|
|
her, drawn into that knot of fire that seemed to have become part of her.
|
|
|
|
Her hand lifted, almost of itself, reached, and touched. The Darkmind looked
|
|
startled, tried to draw back from the small hand on his chest, but like her he
|
|
seemed to be held fast by some force outside himself. She closed her eyes,
|
|
and reached out through herself, into him. She knew how to heal, she knew how
|
|
to turn pain to pleasure, it was such a small step to reverse those things.
|
|
She heard him gasp, and a part of her smiled. She worked harder, sending
|
|
impulses of agony shooting along nerve conduits.
|
|
|
|
__Hurt!__ she hurled at him. __Like you hurt me, and those I loved!__
|
|
|
|
She felt his shock, knew he had heard her. In the past few seconds, through
|
|
some agency she did not understand, she had grasped how to "speak" so that
|
|
others could hear. Even a being with almost no trace of Mind could hear when
|
|
you spoke with their own voice. He began to struggle, trying to pull away, tryi
|
|
ng to free himself, and suddenly she felt sick. It was wrong, to torment him.
|
|
What he had done deserved punishment, but to torture made her his equal. She
|
|
stopped the pain, felt him sag, gasping, yet still unable to move.
|
|
|
|
__I am the last.__ she spoke within him. __My foremothers are those who
|
|
decide, for generations and sleeps, by this right I judge you guilty of killing
|
|
without provocation, of killing innocents, not just one, but all my kind. There
|
|
will never again be a people of my blood, you have destroyed us past hope of
|
|
renewal. You have admitted these things of your own free will, you have
|
|
done these things of your own free will. What should your punishment be?__
|
|
|
|
She went into his mind, showed him what he had done, not in the smug,
|
|
pleased way he saw it, but as she did. She felt him recoil in shock from her
|
|
pain as her kin began to die, again when the handful she had saved were
|
|
taken, and changed, once more when he took her voice, and when by some
|
|
remote means, killed the last of them. She felt him writhe and struggle
|
|
against her memories, then finally he gave up.
|
|
|
|
__You decide,__ he said, surprising her. She had not thought he would
|
|
respond.
|
|
|
|
She shook her head. __It is your crime, it must be your punishment.__
|
|
|
|
She sensed fear, hesitation, then decision, followed closely by a furtive
|
|
pleasure.
|
|
|
|
__Death.__
|
|
|
|
__So be it.__
|
|
|
|
She found the great muscle of his heart, where it pumped the life-sustaining
|
|
blood, and stilled it with a thought. As she did, she was surrounded, caught
|
|
and held by the dominant memory that surfaced as his life began to fade.
|
|
She became a child, a small boy, crouched, crying beneath a table as he sought
|
|
to escape the pain inflicted, unimaginably, by the one being he had most
|
|
trusted. She heard the frantic child's cries, and the adult's hoarse, angry
|
|
bellows, and strained to make sense of the words. But it was not words that
|
|
finally made her understand. It was what she saw in the child's mind, the
|
|
despairing realization of difference, and the realization that difference was
|
|
bad... evil. The trusted-one, though he too had that same difference, would
|
|
never forgive that difference. That knowledge created an implacable resolve to
|
|
bury that difference so deeply that no one would ever know about it, and to
|
|
eradicate all traces of it in others. In that memory she found the birth of
|
|
his hate. In that moment she realized that he had in him the potential for the
|
|
Mindways, latent abilities so stunted and twisted she had never realized they
|
|
were there.
|
|
|
|
Remorse flooded through her, and she desperatedly tried to catch the fading
|
|
essence and pull it back. If that child still existed within the man, what he
|
|
had done was forgivable. A tendril of him reached out to her, and she
|
|
snatched at it, willing him to return, but the darkness in him surged upward,
|
|
triumphantly. Aghast, she realized that even now he sought to take her with
|
|
him. To completely rid his world of the 'evil' as he had meant to do years
|
|
before. Frantically she yanked herself away from the darkness.
|
|
|
|
With a physical shock as painful as a blow, she found herself back in her own
|
|
body, lying across the hot stone, Deanna and the Vulcan physician Selar
|
|
leaning over her. Slowly she turned her head and saw a crumpled figure a
|
|
few feet away, the other doctor kneeling beside it. She did not need to ask to
|
|
know he was dead. Deanna's face was drawn and tight, not even her rare
|
|
control could keep her shock and dismay from showing.
|
|
|
|
Etain looked away, feeling a dull sense of shame. She had killed. She had
|
|
judged and killed, and she had no right. The last with that right had died
|
|
twenty years earlier. She had called the ardt-aa's power, and it had woken for
|
|
her, but now she had to pay the price for using it uncleanly. She knew now,
|
|
that she should not have judged him without finding the reason behind his
|
|
actions. What she had done was not just. Had he lived, he could have been
|
|
eased, and in that ease he would have found the remorse she sought.
|
|
|
|
She sat up, pushed her hair back with fingers that were reddened and
|
|
swollen, as if she had held them too long near a fire. Her cheek smarted, and
|
|
she ached all over, if such a thing were possible she would have said her
|
|
mind felt swollen as well. Her head ached and swam with strange thoughts,
|
|
half-formed knowledge that she could not seem to focus, things knew she had
|
|
not known before. She saw the physician and the counselor exchange a
|
|
glance, and then Deanna spoke, aloud.
|
|
|
|
"How do you feel?"
|
|
|
|
Etain looked at her, trying to convey her regret, her pain, but knew that
|
|
nothing could do that. After a moment she shrugged and swung her feet
|
|
over the side of the stone and stood, swaying slightly, feeling dizzy and light-
|
|
headed. She walked to where the Darkmind's body lay and stood for a
|
|
moment, looking down at him. The human physician looked up at her and
|
|
shook his head.
|
|
|
|
"He's dead, heart failure. It's odd, though, I don't detect any previous
|
|
scarring which would indicate a heart condition."
|
|
|
|
She nodded just to give him a response, though she knew that already. For a
|
|
moment she stood, indecisive, then she drew her broken-tipped blade from its
|
|
sheath, cut off a lock of her hair, and held it out and let it go to drift down
|
|
onto the still figure, saying in her mind what she remembered of the ritual
|
|
which ended blood-feud.
|
|
|
|
__With me, let it end. With you, let it end. Let no other take up this
|
|
contest, no other. It is ended.__
|
|
|
|
For a moment longer she stood, feeling all eyes on her, then she turned and
|
|
looked at Deanna, touched her chest, then pointed up. She had to return to
|
|
the Enterprise, her few things were there, and she needed them to do what
|
|
had to be done.
|
|
|
|
Deanna seemed to understand her reticence to communicate telepathically
|
|
and nodded. "Of course. They can finish-up here, I'll go up with you and
|
|
we'll return to the ship to begin collecting the others."
|
|
|
|
Etain stared at the counselor blankly. What others? Then suddenly she
|
|
understood. She had felt them die because she was linked to them. The
|
|
counselor had been half-unconscious when the Darkmind had killed them,
|
|
and did not know. None of them knew. Slowly she shook her head, tears
|
|
rising uncontrollably. She pointed at the body on the ground, then stopped,
|
|
knowing there was no way to communicate what she needed in sign.
|
|
Cautiously she shaped the knowledge and opened just enough to send it.
|
|
Deanna winced in pain.
|
|
|
|
"I'm sorry, I can't understand you."
|
|
|
|
Etain tried again. It was hard to concentrate with all the strangeness inside
|
|
her head. She seemed unable to focus, and just attempting what little she had
|
|
made her head hurt even worse. Again the counselor flinched as she
|
|
attempted to listen.
|
|
|
|
"Is something wrong, Etain? What I'm getting makes no sense, it's just harsh,
|
|
broken images, and pain."
|
|
|
|
Etain sat down on the ardt-aa to keep her knees from buckling and raised her
|
|
hands helplessly. There was nothing else she could do. She hurt too much to
|
|
try and find some other way to communicate. Deanna face swam as she
|
|
leaned closer, concern etched on her classic features.
|
|
|
|
"Etain? Doctor Selar! I think something's wrong. Would you mind
|
|
checking?"
|
|
|
|
The tall Vulcan woman stepped close, bending as she leveled her chirping
|
|
device at Etain. After a moment she shook her head, her short, sleek hair
|
|
swinging with her movement. "There are slight burns on her hands and one
|
|
cheek. I read nothing else."
|
|
|
|
"Nothing? What about brain function, alpha rhythms?"
|
|
|
|
Selar looked down her nose at the counselor, one eyebrow lifted. "Without a
|
|
previous scan to compare it to, such a reading would be useless."
|
|
|
|
Deanna flushed. She knew that, but concern had prompted her to question
|
|
anyway. She turned back to Etain. "Can you walk? It's a long way back to
|
|
the surface."
|
|
|
|
Etain thought about it, and slowly nodded. Walking did not require much
|
|
thought. She could manage it. Probably.
|
|
|
|
"Good. I'll speak with Commander Riker and be right back."
|
|
|
|
Etain watched her go, staring, feeling half-witted. She wanted to sleep. Just
|
|
sleep. Deanna spoke seriously to Riker, who then waved two of the others
|
|
over. They nodded to whatever it was he told them, then the three of them
|
|
approached Etain. She stood, slowly, as they neared, and then fell into step
|
|
beside them as Deanna beckoned her.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Riker watched Etain follow Deanna toward the underground city's main gate.
|
|
Deanna was right, the young woman didn't look normal. In fact, she looked
|
|
like nothing so much as the classic video zombie, plodding with glazed eyes
|
|
and lifeless expression. He scowled. How was he going to explain this?
|
|
Delvekia dropping dead of a heart-attack seemed too opportune. He was
|
|
almost certain that Etain had somehow caused it, but he had no way to prove
|
|
it either. And could he blame her if she had? After what he had done to her
|
|
people, to her? He knew he wouldn't, but would an inquest be so lenient?
|
|
Picard would not be pleased with the results of this mission.
|
|
|
|
"Commander Riker?"
|
|
|
|
Glad of the distraction, Riker looked up. "Yes Data?"
|
|
|
|
"I have found something interesting here, I believe that the central stone of
|
|
this grouping is not a stone at all, and in fact may be a Preserver artifact."
|
|
|
|
Riker's interest was kindled. He stared at the slate-colored slab in the
|
|
center of the circle for a moment. It seemed no different from the others
|
|
which formed the Stonehenge-like array. Shifting his attention back to the
|
|
android, he lifted his brows.
|
|
|
|
"What makes you think so?"
|
|
|
|
"I was monitoring the area with my tricorder, and each time I passed this
|
|
particular stone, the energy readings jumped noticeably. If you follow the
|
|
path of the energy conduit we found earlier, it terminates here. Also, just
|
|
before Minister Delvekia succumbed, the readings went completely off the
|
|
scale. It is my belief that Etain's presence may have triggered some process,
|
|
some energy surge which may have resulted in Delvekia's death."
|
|
|
|
A sense of relief flooded Riker. If Delvekia's death had been the result of
|
|
some accidental discharge of energy, that would solve a lot of problems.
|
|
Then he remembered something.
|
|
|
|
"The power surge, did it occur while Etain was on the stone?"
|
|
|
|
"Energy levels had been increasing before she touched it, but the primary
|
|
surge began when she first touched it, and ended approximately the same
|
|
time that she regained consciousness. It is still registering some residual
|
|
energy."
|
|
|
|
"Hmm." He turned and glanced around until he found Selar who was
|
|
examining a small white-wrapped parcel of something outside the circle.
|
|
|
|
"Doctor Selar, if you would?"
|
|
|
|
Selar straightened stiffly, her expression faintly annoyed, as if she were
|
|
reluctant to be called from her find. She did not move to meet Riker as he
|
|
walked toward her, waiting for him to reach her.
|
|
|
|
"Lieutenant Selar." he began with deliberate emphasis on her rank, as a subtle
|
|
reprimand. "You examined Etain a few moments ago. What were your
|
|
findings?"
|
|
|
|
"Nothing, sir, save for slight burns on her palms and left cheek. The
|
|
counselor wanted me to check alpha-wave function, but that would have
|
|
been useless without a cross-reference. Brain-activity seemed high, but
|
|
within normal parameters."
|
|
|
|
Riker exchanged a glance with Data, who nodded.
|
|
|
|
"The burns could have been caused by the energy field."
|
|
|
|
"My thoughts exactly, but what else did it do?"
|
|
|
|
"Pardon me, sir?"
|
|
|
|
"Deanna said Etain was acting strange, seemed unable to communicate,
|
|
listless, not herself. Could it have," he groped for a word, then went on,
|
|
"...influenced her?"
|
|
|
|
"Influenced her in what way, Commander?"
|
|
|
|
"If she's dangerous, and we just sent her up to the ship..."
|
|
|
|
Data considered for a moment, then shook his head. "I do not believe that to
|
|
be the case. The evidence is almost conclusive that the Rua'Shi are a Preserver
|
|
colony, and that the colony's Preserver technology is still functional. It is
|
|
far more likely that the device is instructional or protective. From what we
|
|
have learned of the Preservers the only weaponry of any kind they left at their
|
|
sites was engineered strictly for defense, never offense. If we could find the
|
|
control center, I might be able to learn the precise function of this object."
|
|
|
|
Riker knew a hint when he heard one. "Find it, Data, and quickly. In the
|
|
meantime I'll have Worf send someone to the surface to let the Enterprise
|
|
know they should keep a close watch on her, just in case."
|
|
|
|
Data nodded and returned to the center of the circle. Riker watched him for a
|
|
moment, then turned to Selar who was kneeling once more, unwrapping the white
|
|
bundle he had noticed earlier. He experienced a moment of child-like terror
|
|
as she carefully opened the cloth to expose a brown skull staring up at him
|
|
from a pile of disarticulated bones. He shook the fear off, after all, they
|
|
had come to find bones.
|
|
|
|
"Rua'Shi?" he queried, though the size of the skull told him it likely was.
|
|
|
|
Selar lifted the skull carefully and passed her tricorder around it. After a
|
|
moment she nodded. "Yes. In fact, the genetic pattern is so like Etain's
|
|
that they could almost be clones. They must have been terribly inbred."
|
|
|
|
He watched a moment longer as she respectfully examined the pile of bones,
|
|
wondering what it was she looked for. After a moment she sighed.
|
|
"Unfortunately she is too badly broken up for me to readily ascertain what
|
|
killed her. Odd, though, these fractures are fresh. This breakage happened
|
|
recently, within the past week."
|
|
|
|
"Or within the past day?" Riker asked, more of himself than her. Etain had
|
|
seemed to search the stone, device, he corrected himself. Delvekia had
|
|
spoken about having something disposed of. Could these fragile bones be
|
|
what Etain had searched for?
|
|
|
|
"Quite possibly today. Sir, I recommend that we bring down an
|
|
anthropological team as well, there is a great deal here that would be of
|
|
interest to them."
|
|
|
|
"Noted, lieutenant."
|
|
|
|
"There is one other thing of interest here. Look." She held out the skull,
|
|
turning it so that the light played off something that shone iridescently from
|
|
the temple area. He leaned closer, and saw that what looked like a small
|
|
piece of crystal was imbedded in the bone.
|
|
|
|
"What is it? Some sort of posthumous decoration?"
|
|
|
|
"No, sir. This was done while the being was alive, and he or she lived for
|
|
many years after it was done. See how the bone has grown around it? It
|
|
cannot have been decorative, since the crystal would have been covered by
|
|
skin."
|
|
|
|
"Any theories as to what it is?"
|
|
|
|
"Not at the moment, but I will investigate further."
|
|
|
|
"Good. Carry on."
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
It had been over two hours since the away-team had beamed down to the
|
|
planet's surface. Picard knew that wasn't an unreasonable amount of time, he
|
|
also knew that they would have to send someone to the surface to contact the
|
|
ship, because of the sensor difficulties. Still, he couldn't help being
|
|
concerned. After Guinan's enigmatic warning, he had more than the usual
|
|
cause. On the main viewscreen Halvam rotated slowly, blue, green, white
|
|
and tan against its backdrop of stars. If he hadn't known better, he might
|
|
have thought it was Earth. He thought for a moment on the message he had
|
|
sent, encoded, to Starfleet Command, detailing the situation. He should be
|
|
hearing back from them shortly. He had requested that they forward his
|
|
findings to the Federation High Council, and he fully expected they would
|
|
begin a full investigation. He didn't envy Nor Kelssohn. Even if the man was
|
|
not involved in Coran Delvekia's schemes, Halvam would never be the same.
|
|
Things were about to change, and drastically.
|
|
|
|
The bridge was quiet, almost too quiet. He stood up and idly circled the
|
|
bridge, glancing at monitors, looking for some sort of distraction. At the
|
|
security station, he finally found one. The ensign who manned it seemed
|
|
intent on something, attention focused on a thermal map of the planet below.
|
|
Picard studied the display over his shoulder, wondering what he was so
|
|
intent on.
|
|
|
|
"Something interesting, Ensign Chavez?"
|
|
|
|
To his credit the young man didn't jump, only looked up, nodding.
|
|
|
|
"Yes, sir. An explosion and fire, a large one, on the western outskirts of
|
|
Terrestria."
|
|
|
|
For some reason Picard tensed. "How close is that location to the beam-down
|
|
point?"
|
|
|
|
Chavez shook his head. "I computed that immediately, and it's nowhere near.
|
|
About three kilometers north, sir. Planetary authorities have identified the
|
|
site as an abandoned storage facility."
|
|
|
|
Picard relaxed slightly. "Good. So, why the interest?"
|
|
|
|
"The temperature of the fire, and the pattern of spread, sir. I would guess
|
|
the fire was set using incendiaries, possibly even an energy device of some
|
|
sort," he shook his head. "If someone's trying insurance fraud, they were
|
|
pretty careless about it. There's no way this fire was natural."
|
|
|
|
"Interesting. Note your observations in the security log. We may want to
|
|
send a copy to the Halvami authorities, though they are probably well able to
|
|
make such a determination themselves. And, Ensign Chavez, good work. I
|
|
doubt many would have noticed."
|
|
|
|
The young man seemed pleased. "Thank you, sir, I guess it comes naturally.
|
|
On my homeworld, my mother is a fire-fighter, and my father's an arson
|
|
investigator."
|
|
|
|
Picard smiled. "That would tend to influence one. Please inform me at once
|
|
when the away-team reestablishes contact."
|
|
|
|
"Certainly, sir."
|
|
|
|
Picard resumed his seat, trying not to let his distubance show.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
______________________________________________________________________________
|
|
copyright 1992, Kellie Matthews-Simmons
|
|
matthews_k@cubldr.colorado.edu//matthewk@spot.colorado.edu
|
|
all rights reserved
|
|
|
|
Standard Disclaimers Apply
|
|
|
|
From JULIA@Jetson.UH.EDU Tue Aug 31 16:34:23 1993
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|
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Message-id: <01H2E99M9HY68XAHXS@Jetson.UH.EDU>
|
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|
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|
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Content-type: TEXT/PLAIN; CHARSET=US-ASCII
|
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Content-transfer-encoding: 7BIT
|
|
Status: RO
|
|
From: JULIA@Jetson.UH.EDU
|
|
To: jfy@cis.ksu.edu
|
|
Subject: (TNG) Silence, A Novel by Kellie Matthews-Simmons, Part 10
|
|
Date: Tue, 31 Aug 1993 12:45:18 -0500 (CDT)
|
|
|
|
CHAPTER TEN
|
|
|
|
Data scanned the area, looking for clues to the location of the control
|
|
complex. The power conduit he had noted earlier ran below ground directly
|
|
from the passageway to the central "stone", which was of a different
|
|
composition than the other stones of the grouping. He noted that the
|
|
arrangement of stones was typical of ancient lithic monuments of north-
|
|
eastern Europe and Great Britain on Earth; a circle of roughly rectangular
|
|
menhirs set vertically, with a central stone which lay horizontally. Usually
|
|
such arrangements on Earth had been primitive astronomical observatories,
|
|
but these could serve no such function, as they lay far below the surface
|
|
where the sky was never visible.
|
|
|
|
As he studied the menhirs one by one, he realized that the stones bore fusing
|
|
marks, they had been cut using a beam-device similar to a phaser, not hand-
|
|
hewn with primitive tools. Since the Rua'Shi had no such technology, he
|
|
thought it probable that the Preservers had set up the circle, for whatever
|
|
reason they might have had, probably communication with the Rua'Shi. He
|
|
reviewed the paper he had read of a Preserver remnant culture discovered by
|
|
a previous Enterprise. Their records were still the basis for most formal study
|
|
of the beings known as the Preservers. The Preservers had left an obelisk on
|
|
that world which had served such a function, as well as being a type of
|
|
reverse tractor beam which protected the planet against the meteoric debris
|
|
the system was full of.
|
|
|
|
Satisfied that the outer circle held no clues for him, Data proceeded to the
|
|
central stone. It was three meters long, a meter and a half wide, and about a
|
|
meter tall. The upper surface of the stone overhung the base by about three
|
|
centimeters, forming a table-like lip. Cautiously he placed his palm against
|
|
it, and found it's ambient temperature still fifteen-point-six degrees higher
|
|
than that of the surrounding menhirs. The surface was flat, almost polished,
|
|
with a metallic blue-black sheen. It was metaloceramic in composition,
|
|
containing traces of gold, copper oxide, yttrium and molybdenum. All highly
|
|
conductive elements. Finding nothing of special interest on its upper surface,
|
|
he knelt beside the stone and searched carefully for markings. Immediately
|
|
he found that the edge of the lip was incised in a centimeter-wide band. He
|
|
noted with interest that the symbols were not the flowing interlaced designs
|
|
he had noted in the passage, but small, regular, slightly angular markings
|
|
grouped together. Writing. To be precise, extremely archaic Vulcan.
|
|
|
|
A human would have probably have expressed some elation upon finding the
|
|
marks, but Data refrained, having not yet developed an expression of
|
|
pleasure he believed appropriate to him. It took only moments to decipher
|
|
the words, which were repeated twenty-one times in a band around the edge
|
|
of the artifact. He wondered what significance the number of repetitions
|
|
held.
|
|
|
|
"Who moves me moves the world." he read aloud, tilting his head to one
|
|
side, quizzically. Could it be that simple? It seemed too easy, but he had to
|
|
try. Experimentally he braced his feet, placed his hands against the stone and
|
|
pushed. It moved. Not much, but it definitely moved. A human's strength
|
|
would probably not have moved it, but his was enough. Apparently it was
|
|
hollow, had it been solid his push would not have been sufficient to move it.
|
|
He stood up and looked around, spotting Riker and Worf within seconds.
|
|
|
|
"Commander Riker, Lieutenant Worf, I believe I have found something."
|
|
|
|
He waited patiently for the other officers to arrive, and then motioned for
|
|
Worf to take one end of the stone while he lifted the other. Together they
|
|
managed to shift the stone a meter to the left, exposing a large opening and a
|
|
set of stairs leading down. Yellow light glowed diffusely from within.
|
|
|
|
Curious, Data knelt at the opening, trying to see down the stairs. They were
|
|
shallow, and led into a large room, but because of the angle he could not
|
|
make out much else. There was no indication of danger, no abnormal
|
|
readings of any kind, though he could detect at least one substantial power
|
|
source. He looked up at Riker.
|
|
|
|
"Permission to investigate, sir?"
|
|
|
|
Riker hesitated a moment, then nodded. "Permission granted."
|
|
|
|
Data nodded, stood, and had taken a step forward, when Riker spoke again.
|
|
|
|
"And Mr. Data... be careful."
|
|
|
|
Data was about to reply that he was always careful, when he realized with
|
|
furtive gratification that Riker's words had been prompted by concern for his
|
|
well-being, not by concern for the Preserver installation. He attempted a
|
|
smile. "Thank you sir."
|
|
|
|
Riker nodded. "Wait, I want try a communicator check before you get too far,
|
|
say, ten meters?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes sir. Ten meters." Data continued his descent.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
The chamber which the stairs opened onto was huge, Data suspected it underlay
|
|
the entire city-cave above it. Most of the space was occupied by box-like
|
|
objects of what appeared to be translucent black glass, having approximately
|
|
the same basic dimensions as the central stone; three meters by a meter and a
|
|
half, by a meter. The boxes were stacked four and five deep, in rows that went
|
|
past his visual acuity range. He noticed with interest that their surfaces
|
|
were free of dust, reflecting his image, multiplying it, indicating careful air
|
|
filtration. He stepped closer and scanned one, found it was empty. The
|
|
interior was yeilding to the touch, and molded, as if to conform to the contours
|
|
of a human body. They closely resembled sickbay stasis units, and he suspected
|
|
that was their function. He checked several rows, and found them all empty.
|
|
|
|
Scanning the room with his tricorder, he found two strong power sources, and
|
|
worked his way through the rows of gleaming glass until he located the first,
|
|
a large chamber whose stasis fields were still intact. Through the shimmering
|
|
fluctuations of the fields, he could see shelves holding thousands of small
|
|
containers. Evidently whoever had built the chamber considered the containers
|
|
contents important, since there were three stasis fields stacked, like layers
|
|
of bubbles, to protect them.
|
|
|
|
"Data?" A voice queried, Commander Riker's voice. Data realized he had
|
|
been so involved in satisfying his curiosity that he had neglected the
|
|
communicator check. He tapped his combadge.
|
|
|
|
"Here, sir. Are you receiving my transmission?"
|
|
|
|
Riker sounded relieved. "Yes, your signal is clear."
|
|
|
|
"Good. I have encountered nothing dangerous so far. Most of the room is
|
|
occupied by what appear to be individual stasis units. I have located one
|
|
functioning stasis chamber, and a second power source a few meters further
|
|
on. I am preparing to investigate it now."
|
|
|
|
Continuing on toward the second of the two power sources, he passed at least
|
|
fifty rows of empty stasis boxes before coming upon a large open area. In the
|
|
center of the space was an object which looked more like a piece of art than
|
|
anything functional. He scanned it, and lifted his eyebrows in surprise, then
|
|
he tapped his combadge.
|
|
|
|
"Commander Riker, I have located the second power source."
|
|
|
|
"Report."
|
|
|
|
"It is roughly cubical, four meters square. It is constructed of a crystalline
|
|
substance which conducts and transmits energy with great efficiency. The
|
|
external surface is faceted, multicolored, and there appear to be symbols of
|
|
some sort on portions of it. It is also surrounded by a force field of stun-
|
|
level intensity. If I am not mistaken, this is the primary control unit. I
|
|
will attempt closer investigation."
|
|
|
|
"Do you think that wise, Data?"
|
|
|
|
"The field should not affect me, sir."
|
|
|
|
"'Should not', not 'will not'?" Riker asked, pointedly.
|
|
|
|
"There is always the possibility that it may increase the intensity of the
|
|
field if I attempt to breach it."
|
|
|
|
"Wait there, we're coming down."
|
|
|
|
Data waited. Moments later Riker and Worf joined him. Riker circled the
|
|
object, studying it. He frowned. "What makes you think this is the control
|
|
unit?"
|
|
|
|
"It is utilizing a tremendous amount of power, and it is the only device in
|
|
sensor range which has a force-shield. Also, it bears some resemblance to
|
|
Preserver control units found on other worlds, though it appears to be
|
|
considerably more sophisticated. Perhaps that explains why it is still
|
|
functional."
|
|
|
|
"Perhaps." Riker looked at it for a moment longer, then shifted his gaze to
|
|
Data and nodded. "Go ahead."
|
|
|
|
"Yes, sir."
|
|
|
|
He stepped forward and tentatively put his fingers against the outer edge of
|
|
the shield. He experienced a vague crawling sensation on his hand, and
|
|
wondered if it was similar to the sensation humans called a 'tickle'. When no
|
|
increase in the field's activity occurred, he pushed past the gentle resistance
|
|
and stepped into the field.
|
|
|
|
Nothing unusual happened, save for the momentary illusion of a flash of light
|
|
as he passed the boundary, caused by the interaction of the field with his
|
|
optic sensors. He was somewhat surprised that it had not been more difficult.
|
|
Moving closer, he began to translate the markings. After a moment he turned
|
|
to face Riker again.
|
|
|
|
"I am certain that this is the control unit. The symbols on it are virtually
|
|
identical to those recorded elsewhere."
|
|
|
|
"Can you read them?"
|
|
|
|
"No sir. It is not a matter of reading, but of interpreting. The Preservers
|
|
used tonal communication. I must find the correct basal tone in order to
|
|
interpret the symbols."
|
|
|
|
"How long do you think it will take?"
|
|
|
|
"I have no way of estimating that at this time. The device on Cygnus One was
|
|
inadvertantly triggered by the use of a communicator whose tones duplicated
|
|
the necessary activation sequence."
|
|
|
|
Riker glanced down at his combadge, and looked up again, grinning. "Well,
|
|
it's worth a try." He tapped the device and it emitted its customary chirp.
|
|
Nothing happened. He sighed. "Oh well. I guess it's back to basics. Do you
|
|
need anything?"
|
|
|
|
"No sir, I can use the tricorder to generate frequencies. Dr. Selar may wish
|
|
to inspect the stasis boxes. There is a high probability that they are the
|
|
ones used in transporting the original Rua'Shi to Halvam, though I do not know
|
|
why they were left here. She may also be able to determine what the still-
|
|
functional unit contains, I believe they are probably biological, otherwise the
|
|
stasis field would be unnecessary."
|
|
|
|
Riker nodded. "I'll send her down. Worf, post a guard down here to keep an
|
|
eye on things, since Data will be occupied."
|
|
|
|
"Aye, sir." Worf headed back toward the stairs to call one of his men. Riker
|
|
stood for a moment watching Data adjust his tricorder. Data looked up,
|
|
curiously.
|
|
|
|
"Is there something else, sir?"
|
|
|
|
"No, Mr. Data, carry on." he turned and followed Worf, leaving Data alone.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Riker's hesitation in leaving Data alone was based solely on his desire to
|
|
avoid reporting to Picard for a few more minutes. He had already sent the
|
|
captured Halvami security men up, and Deanna had taken Etain back as well,
|
|
so by now the Captain had to have some idea of what had occurred. He
|
|
realized he had erred in not separating Etain and Delvekia as soon as their
|
|
confrontation began, and was certain that she had been instrumental in
|
|
Delvekia's death. Not that he blamed her, but it was going to be hard to
|
|
explain.
|
|
|
|
He stood at the top of the staircase watching the medical and anthropological
|
|
teams as they searched the dwellings for Rua'Shi corpses to scan. He spotted
|
|
Dr. Selar and called to her. She turned, and made her way down to where he
|
|
stood, glancing curiously into the opening left when Data had moved the
|
|
altar-like central stone.
|
|
|
|
"Sir?"
|
|
|
|
"How is it going?"
|
|
|
|
"Very well. We have been able to determine that all the Rua'Shi found so far
|
|
died of the same thing, an pneumonic bacteria with familial resemblences to
|
|
both Terran plague, and a Terran diptheria. The fact that both diseases are of
|
|
Earth origin is particularly revealing. The carrier-DNA appeares to have been
|
|
engineered to be species-particular, and there are signature structures which
|
|
appear on several strands. If we can access the records of the Halvami gene-
|
|
tech firms we should be able to match them."
|
|
|
|
"Excellent Lieutenant, that's exactly what we're looking for. Mr. Data has
|
|
located a second chamber below the city, which contains what he believes to
|
|
be Preserver artifacts. He also located a stasis chamber which he thought you
|
|
might like to take a look at, he said he believes it contains biologicals of
|
|
some kind."
|
|
|
|
Her expression lightened slightly. "Interesting. I will go at once."
|
|
|
|
Riker stepped aside to let her pass. "It's about twenty meters down the left-
|
|
hand aisle. You can't miss it."
|
|
|
|
She nodded her thanks and brushed past him as she hurried down into the
|
|
sub-chamber. Worf approached with two of his security team, and sent them
|
|
below as well. Feeling a little left out, he turned to Worf.
|
|
|
|
"I'm going above to report to the Captain. Is everything in hand here?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes sir, we should have no difficulties while you are gone."
|
|
|
|
"Thank you, Lieutenant, carry on."
|
|
|
|
Worf nodded and took up a sentry-stance at the head of the stairwell. Riker
|
|
headed for the main passage, where he paused a moment to check his locator
|
|
to be sure it was registering the markers they had left along the way. It was.
|
|
He had no excuse. With a sigh he started up toward the surface.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Picard heard the security station summons and swung around, looking up at
|
|
Chavez as he quickly dispatched a security team to one of the Transporter
|
|
rooms. That accomplished, he stepped forward to report.
|
|
|
|
"Captain, Chief O'Brien reports that most of the security team has returned,
|
|
with thirty members of the Halvami Security Forces in detention. Counselor
|
|
Troi and the..." he paused, at a loss.
|
|
|
|
"Etain?" Picard guessed.
|
|
|
|
Chavez nodded, gratefully. "Yes, sir. She and the Counselor have returned
|
|
as well."
|
|
|
|
"But not Commander Riker, or Lieutenant Worf, or the medical personnel?"
|
|
|
|
"No, sir, not yet."
|
|
|
|
Picard frowned thoughtfully, wondering what was going on, but not overly
|
|
concerned, since those returning would have already reported any serious
|
|
problem. After a moment, he touched the communications pad on the arm of
|
|
the conn.
|
|
|
|
"Counselor Troi, report."
|
|
|
|
"Troi here, sir." Her voice sounded strained. His frown grew deeper.
|
|
Something was wrong. Perhaps not significantly so, but he didn't want to
|
|
take chances.
|
|
|
|
"I would like to see you in my ready room at your earliest convenience,
|
|
counselor."
|
|
|
|
"Yes, sir. I will be there as soon as I see to Etain."
|
|
|
|
"Is there a problem?"
|
|
|
|
"I... would prefer to discuss it with you personally, Captain. I will only be
|
|
a few moments."
|
|
|
|
His frown became a scowl. "Of course, Counselor."
|
|
|
|
He sat for a moment, tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair, irritated,
|
|
then stood and nodded to Geordi at the Engineering console.
|
|
|
|
"You have the conn, Mr. LaForge."
|
|
|
|
Geordi nodded, and moved to assume the chair. Picard stalked past him
|
|
toward his sanctuary of his ready-room, trying not to let his temper get out of
|
|
hand. It always annoyed him when he was unable to garner needed
|
|
information as quickly as he desired it.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Deanna stood outside Picard's door for a moment to compose herself before she
|
|
touched the button that would signal her presence. Normally she wasn't the
|
|
one who would be reporting on the mission to Picard, that duty usually fell to
|
|
Will, or Worf. She wasn't sure how much to tell him. Should she limit
|
|
it to facts, or include her own, less-documentable perceptions? She was fairly
|
|
certain that Etain had actually killed Coran Delvekia. How, she wasn't sure,
|
|
but Etain's actions and reactions had been too obvious for her not to have
|
|
been involved.
|
|
|
|
She was also afraid that something was seriously wrong with the young woman's
|
|
mind, as she suddenly seemed to have lost the ability to communicate. If she
|
|
had killed Delvekia the withdrawal might be voluntary, or psychosomatic, rather
|
|
than physiological, but she had left Etain in sickbay with Beverly's assistant,
|
|
Dr. Naraian, just to be sure. She would have preferred to leave her in Beverly
|
|
Crusher's care, but she was off-shift and not due back for another hour.
|
|
|
|
Resolute, she touched the annunciator and seconds later the door slid open
|
|
and she stepped inside, hoping she didn't look as apprehensive as she felt.
|
|
Picard's attention was focused on a small datapad, he keyed in a sequence,
|
|
then looked up. She sensed that he had been giving her time to prepare,
|
|
which reassured her somewhat.
|
|
|
|
"So, counselor, what happened? Something obviously did, as I understand
|
|
we now have thirty Halvami Security Forces men in detention, yet no one
|
|
appears to have been seriously hurt."
|
|
|
|
"One person was killed, captain... or rather, one person is dead. We aren't
|
|
entirely certain how it happened."
|
|
|
|
"Who?" He snapped, leaning forward.
|
|
|
|
"Coran Delvekia."
|
|
|
|
Picard's eyes narrowed. "Explain."
|
|
|
|
She took a deep breath, and started from the point when Etain had sensed the
|
|
trap. When she finished, he sat there for some time before he spoke.
|
|
|
|
"I have some difficulty believing that Delvekia conveniently dropped dead of
|
|
a heart-attack. What was your impression?" he asked, eyeing her shrewdly.
|
|
|
|
She looked away, knowing he had considerable emotional investment in
|
|
Etain and not wanting to see his face when she told him what she feared. "I...
|
|
think that Etain was responsible, Captain. I don't know how, or why, but I
|
|
feel she was involved in it."
|
|
|
|
"Any evidence?" he asked, without a pause, his voice even.
|
|
|
|
She looked back at him. Only the slight tension in his jaw betrayed him.
|
|
|
|
"No, sir, just a feeling. Since it happened she has been unable, or unwilling,
|
|
to communicate with me, even through sign. When I attempt to read her, all I
|
|
get is confusion, chaos, pain. I left her in sickbay, hoping they could find
|
|
some reason for it."
|
|
|
|
He nodded. "Thank you counselor, that will be all."
|
|
|
|
She turned to go, then stopped. "Sir..., there is one other thing. After she
|
|
severed contact with me, I continued to receive some scattered impressions,
|
|
though I was still trying to cope with the psychic backlash. What I felt was
|
|
death. Not just one person, many, an impression of great heat, and sound. I
|
|
didn't have time to comprehend it, but I feel it may have had something to do
|
|
with what happened."
|
|
|
|
Picard leaned forward, interested. "Could she have been reliving the deaths
|
|
of the Rua'Shi twenty years ago? Being in the city again might have triggered
|
|
such a memory."
|
|
|
|
Deanna thought about it for a moment, then slowly shook her head. "No. It
|
|
was no memory. It was too fresh, too immediate. I don't think it was that.
|
|
Besides, this was not death due to illness. It was sudden, violent."
|
|
|
|
"I see." He paused a moment, then a strange expression came over his face.
|
|
"Ensign Chavez monitored a large explosion and fire on the surface, on the
|
|
outskirts of Terrestria, about half an hour ago. Halvami authorities
|
|
identified the site as an abandoned warehouse complex."
|
|
|
|
Deanna felt a sinking sensation. "When I mentioned coming back to the ship
|
|
to begin bringing the others aboard, she tried to communicate with me. I
|
|
couldn't understand what she was trying to tell me, but whatever it was hurt
|
|
terribly."
|
|
|
|
Their eyes met in silent communication. Deanna shook her head, rejecting the
|
|
idea. "No, he wouldn't have..."
|
|
|
|
"I'm afraid it's all too likely." Picard said grimly. He stood up. "She's in
|
|
sickbay?"
|
|
|
|
Deanna nodded. "I'll come with you. I may be needed."
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Etain was sitting on one of the sickbay tables, her face expressionless and
|
|
pale. Picard and Troi started toward her, but were intercepted by Doctor
|
|
Naraian who pulled them aside. The stocky Nepalese physician glanced at
|
|
her, then back at them, shaking his head.
|
|
|
|
"I found little physically wrong with her, just slight burns, the equivalent of
|
|
a mild sunburn, on her hands and one side of her face. I've treated those,
|
|
they were nothing to worry about. Her mental state is another matter. I would
|
|
say she has suffered some non-physical traumatic shock. She is unresponsive
|
|
and listless, though tests indicate no neurological damage, indeed, her brain
|
|
activity is extremely high, almost surprisingly so, considering her state.
|
|
What happened down there?"
|
|
|
|
Deanna opened her mouth to answer, then closed it again. She really didn't
|
|
know what had happened, she only suspected.
|
|
|
|
"I'm sorry, Doctor, I'm not certain. May we speak to her?"
|
|
|
|
He sighed. "You can try. I have. It's as if she doesn't hear me, though I
|
|
know otherwise."
|
|
|
|
The three of them moved to stand close to her, Deanna tried first, putting her
|
|
hand lightly on Etain's shoulder. Etain reacted to that, flinching away from
|
|
her touch, and Deanna let her hand fall instantly, and tried a different
|
|
approach.
|
|
|
|
"Etain? Can you hear me?"
|
|
|
|
She remained motionless, gaze fixed on some distant, unseeable point.
|
|
Deanna looked at Picard and shook her head.
|
|
|
|
"Just like before. She doesn't want to hear me. You try."
|
|
|
|
He nodded. "Etain. I need to talk to you."
|
|
|
|
She blinked, and seemed to waver for a moment, then slowly turned her head
|
|
toward him, her gaze slightly more aware than before. Deanna nodded at
|
|
Picard encouragingly. He thought for a moment, then spoke again.
|
|
|
|
"Etain, I must know. The others, the remaining Rua'Shi. Are they alive?"
|
|
|
|
She shuddered visibly, and for a moment full awareness returned to her face,
|
|
etching lines of pain and despair across her elfin features. Minutely, she
|
|
shook her head, then deliberately turned away, the blankness washing back
|
|
over her.
|
|
|
|
Deanna blinked back sudden tears. Picard swore softly. The doctor looked
|
|
from one to the other, puzzled.
|
|
|
|
"What are the Rua'Shi?" he asked.
|
|
|
|
"They are..." Picard stopped, closed his eyes for a moment, then corrected
|
|
himself, his voice low, pained. "... were, her people. A people who lived on
|
|
this world for thousands of years before it was colonized. There were only a
|
|
few besides herself left alive, now that they are gone, she is the last. He
|
|
managed to do it after all, he's killed all of the Rua'shi except Etain. Damn!
|
|
We should have brought the others aboard for protection, even if we did not
|
|
yet have sufficient proof of Delvekia's crime to arrest him."
|
|
|
|
He suddenly found himself remembering Guinan's warning. Something bad
|
|
indeed. If only her warning had been more specific! He reached out to Etain,
|
|
to offer support, but drew back his hand before he actually touched her,
|
|
remembering her reaction to Deanna's contact. If she had flinched from a
|
|
woman, surely a man's touch would be worse, and he had made a promise to her.
|
|
|
|
"I'm sorry, I don't understand..." the doctor began. Deanna took him aside to
|
|
explain, leaving Picard alone with Etain.
|
|
|
|
He watched her for a moment, then moved until he knew he was within her
|
|
field of vision, and lowered his voice so that only she could hear him.
|
|
|
|
"I must know this as well, did you kill Delvekia?"
|
|
|
|
She shuddered, then lifted her gaze to his face and nodded again, eyes fixed
|
|
on his. She was obviously afraid, but strangely calm. He sighed. "I was
|
|
afraid of that." A thought occurred to him, giving him some hope. "Was it an
|
|
accident?"
|
|
|
|
She shook her head, still grave. Was he imagining he saw remorse in her face,
|
|
or not? He wasn't certain. Rubbing his forehead abstractedly, he wished he
|
|
had ignored Riker's prohibitions and gone with the away team. He probably
|
|
could have prevented the ensuing fiasco. He turned back to Etain.
|
|
|
|
"It seems I am always trying to apologize to you for things that can never be
|
|
forgiven, or forgotten. All I have are words, and they can't mean very much
|
|
right now. I should never have let you go down there... " he broke off as
|
|
shook her head, and with a peculiar smile put one finger to her lips.
|
|
|
|
He nodded, smiling wryly. He was babbling, something he had a propensity
|
|
for, when unsettled. "Of course. Do you want someone to stay with you?
|
|
Deanna, Guinan, myself?"
|
|
|
|
She shook her head again, then looked around, frowning. She touched her
|
|
chest, then pointed toward the door. He understood immediately.
|
|
|
|
"I see no difficulty in that, if the Doctor agrees."
|
|
|
|
He turned toward Naraian who had been watching them with interest.
|
|
|
|
"Etain would like to go to her quarters, she doesn't feel comfortable here.
|
|
Can she?"
|
|
|
|
Naraian hesitated, then nodded. "I suppose. There's nothing physically
|
|
wrong with her, no medical reason to keep her here, however I think it would
|
|
be wise for Counselor Troi to check on her periodically. Once the shock
|
|
wears off, she'll have need of her."
|
|
|
|
"Of course." Deanna said, bristling just a little. "I would have done so
|
|
anyway."
|
|
|
|
Picard turned back to Etain, found her standing somewhat unsteadily beside
|
|
the table she had been sitting on. Once again he reached to offer her his
|
|
support, and drew back, shaking his head.
|
|
|
|
"I'm sorry. It's difficult to remember. May I walk you to your quarters?"
|
|
|
|
She nodded, and took a step, then stopped, and hesitantly reached out to him.
|
|
Surprised, he extended his arm, and she took it, a little gingerly, and they
|
|
moved off together, Deanna trailing behind. The doctor watched them go,
|
|
the expression on his round face troubled. He made a few notes on his
|
|
datapadd and crossed the room to check on one of his other patients.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
After settling Etain in her quarters, Picard motioned for Troi to accompany
|
|
him as he walked, but did not speak. While they waited for the turbolift, he
|
|
locked his hands behind his back and planted his feet firmly apart in the
|
|
posture he tended to adopt when facing an unpleasant decision. Deanna
|
|
suspected she knew what it was he found unpleasant. The lift arrived and
|
|
they stepped inside, finding they had it to themselves. Picard resumed his
|
|
earlier stance, and spoke the destination perfunctorily. After a moment, he
|
|
shook his head.
|
|
|
|
"Hold."
|
|
|
|
The lift slowed and stopped. He turned to Deanna, his expression
|
|
unreadable.
|
|
|
|
"She did kill him, and it was no accident."
|
|
|
|
Deanna felt a small shock, despite having expected it. "She told you?"
|
|
|
|
He nodded. "I asked her, she admitted it. What to do now? We have a
|
|
Federation Special Counsel on the way to review the situation who will be
|
|
here in a matter of hours. Delvekia's death complicates things immensely.
|
|
We cannot lie about it."
|
|
|
|
The fact that he said that meant he had, if only for a moment, considered it.
|
|
She was deeply surprised, but tried not to show it.
|
|
|
|
"Of course not. I suspect, though, that given the extenuating circumstances,
|
|
she would not be dealt with harshly. I can attest to the mental strain she has
|
|
been under, that perhaps at that moment, she was not entirely in her right
|
|
mind. Who would be?"
|
|
|
|
He stared thoughtfully at nothing for a moment, then sighed. "I suspect
|
|
you're right. No one would condemn her, knowing what he had done." he
|
|
shrugged his shoulders in an exaggerated roll, trying to ease the tension he
|
|
carried there, then spoke again. "Resume."
|
|
|
|
The turbolift accelerated smoothly.
|
|
|
|
"Captain?" she began, tentatively, not knowing quite how to broach the
|
|
subject she wanted to discuss. His personal feelings toward Etain.
|
|
|
|
"Yes, Counselor?" His walls were back, hiding everything behind a sheet of
|
|
reserve.
|
|
|
|
Her nerve failed. "If there is anything I can do to help, let me know."
|
|
|
|
"I will, Counselor. Rest assured."
|
|
|
|
She wasn't reassured. His damnable control made him such a difficult man to
|
|
try to interact with! She sometimes wished he would, just once, give some of
|
|
those emotions free rein. It wasn't healthy to keep everything inside. She
|
|
sighed.
|
|
|
|
"Counselor?" he queried, eyeing her quizzically. That particular look always
|
|
made her think of a curious hawk.
|
|
|
|
"Nothing, sir," she lied. "Just tired, that's all."
|
|
|
|
His expression softened. "Why don't you go to your quarters? It's been a
|
|
difficult day, and I'm sure you could use some time to rest."
|
|
|
|
"And you?"
|
|
|
|
"I'll wait for Commander Riker to return, and work on the summary for the
|
|
Special Prosecutor. My day has not been as eventful as yours."
|
|
|
|
"I wouldn't say that, the events have simply been different."
|
|
|
|
He shot her a slightly puzzled look and shrugged. "Perhaps, but I have work
|
|
to do." The turbolift slowed, stopped, and the doors opened onto the bridge.
|
|
Picard stepped out and turned to face her.
|
|
|
|
"Thank you, counselor. Have a pleasant rest."
|
|
|
|
Deanna nodded acknowledgement as the doors closed. In her mind, she
|
|
counted slowly to ten. It didn't help. She grimaced, realizing she was more
|
|
irritated with herself than him. Why was it so hard to make herself confront
|
|
him? It was her job!
|
|
|
|
"Damn it!" she swore aloud, just to let off steam.
|
|
|
|
"Destination not known, please repeat."
|
|
|
|
She glared up at the speaker. Sometimes the computer's voice was uncannily
|
|
similar to her mother's.
|
|
|
|
"Deck eight."
|
|
|
|
The lift began to move again. Deanna brooded.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
______________________________________________________________________________
|
|
copyright 1992, Kellie Matthews-Simmons
|
|
matthews_k@cubldr.colorado.edu//matthewk@spot.colorado.edu
|
|
all rights reserved
|
|
|
|
Standard Disclaimers Apply
|
|
|
|
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From: JULIA@Jetson.UH.EDU
|
|
To: jfy@cis.ksu.edu
|
|
Subject: (TNG) Silence, A Novel by Kellie Matthews-Simmons, Part 11
|
|
Date: Tue, 31 Aug 1993 12:45:32 -0500 (CDT)
|
|
|
|
CHAPTER ELEVEN
|
|
|
|
"Captain?"
|
|
|
|
Picard turned, momentarily startled, then smiled in greeting. "Guinan! Away
|
|
from your post, aren't you?" he asked, indicating the corridor where they
|
|
stood, two decks away from Ten-Forward.
|
|
|
|
Guinan nodded, but unexpectedly did not smile, and her normally placid
|
|
features seemed troubled. He tensed in response.
|
|
|
|
"What is it?"
|
|
|
|
"Etain. Something's wrong."
|
|
|
|
"Wrong? In what way?"
|
|
|
|
She shook her head. "I don't know, exactly. There is a darkness in her I
|
|
can't reach her through. I would help, but since she returned from Halvam
|
|
with the away team, she has not 'spoken', or sought me out, nor will she
|
|
answer my attempts to do so."
|
|
|
|
Picard frowned. He suspected he knew why, but that didn't lessen his concern.
|
|
"Perhaps she has spoken with Deanna."
|
|
|
|
Guinan shook her head slowly, a frown creasing her forehead. "Perhaps, but I
|
|
don't think so. She needs you."
|
|
|
|
Before he could respond, she turned and glided away. He stared after her,
|
|
scowling, and shook his head. What good was his help, since communication
|
|
with Etain was, for him, a matter of trial and error? He continued on his way
|
|
to his quarters, and before he had gone a dozen paces, he was stopped again.
|
|
|
|
"Captain, may I have a word with you?"
|
|
|
|
He stiffened. Deanna. He had the distinct the feeling he knew what she was
|
|
going to say, it took no metapsychic ability to do so. He stopped and turned.
|
|
|
|
"Of course, counselor."
|
|
|
|
She glanced around, paused a moment, uncharacteristically hesitant.
|
|
"Sir, it's about Etain."
|
|
|
|
He sighed. "I suspected that. Go on."
|
|
|
|
"It's difficult to explain. She has deliberately isolated herself, cut herself
|
|
off from all communication. I believe that her withdrawal is directly related
|
|
to the events in Dhara, but that is merely informed conjecture. All I have to
|
|
go on, is that for a few moments, after Delvekia killed her kin, she was open
|
|
to me, and she was in such pain, such despair, after that she closed me out.
|
|
Since then, she has made only one attempt to communicate, which failed, nor has
|
|
she moved from her quarters since we left her there. I have requested
|
|
admittance, but she's engaged the lock and refuses to acknowledge my requests.
|
|
I'm worried, sir. I don't know what she might be capable of, given the
|
|
circumstances."
|
|
|
|
Deanna's worry, combined with Guinan's combined to form a strong sense of
|
|
unease in him. "You believe her to be mentally unstable," he asked carefully.
|
|
|
|
Deanna's expressive face twisted in a pained grimace, and she closed her eyes
|
|
for a moment before whispering. "I do. I think, right now, she wants to die,
|
|
and that desire seems stronger than her will to live."
|
|
|
|
Picard stared at the counselor for a long moment, trying not to betray the
|
|
shock he felt at her words. Etain's will to live was strong, it had sustained
|
|
her in solitude for twenty years, it had healed her when a lesser being would
|
|
likely have died of the wounds she had received. For the counselor to say that
|
|
she had lost that will was almost beyond belief. He lowered his voice.
|
|
|
|
"Are you telling me you think she would suicide?"
|
|
|
|
Deanna's gaze slid away. "I... believe she has decided to die."
|
|
|
|
Picard was shaken. Of all the possibilities he would associate with Etain,
|
|
suicide was the least probable, but Guinan, and now Deanna were telling him
|
|
otherwise. He could not refute two such unimpeachable sources. A frisson of
|
|
fear shuddered through him. He had no strong personal taboo against suicide,
|
|
but the thought that Etain might do so was abhorrent.
|
|
|
|
"I will speak with her, or try to"
|
|
|
|
Deanna seemed to relax somewhat. "Thank you, captain. I think you are the
|
|
only one she might listen to. I will be in my office, if you need me, if she
|
|
needs me."
|
|
|
|
"Thank you counselor."
|
|
|
|
Deanna turned away, but not before he saw the gleam of tears in her eyes. He
|
|
watched her hurry away, then turned and stared down the corridor at Etain's
|
|
door.
|
|
|
|
Above it, the status light glowed coldly blue, indicating that the lock-system
|
|
was engaged. Only a security override would open the door without her
|
|
permission. He took a deep breath, went to stand before it, and after a moment
|
|
he reached to touch the com.
|
|
|
|
"Permission to enter."
|
|
|
|
"Permission denied. Occupant requests privacy." the computer responded
|
|
instantly.
|
|
|
|
"Inform occupant of caller's identity."
|
|
|
|
"Complying."
|
|
|
|
Long seconds crept by. He waited, impatiently. Finally the computer spoke
|
|
again, it's programmed pleasantness at odds with its words.
|
|
|
|
"No response. Privacy lock remains engaged. Please try again later."
|
|
|
|
He sighed. He had hoped he would not have to do this. "Security override
|
|
privacy lock. Picard, Jean-Luc, Captain, USS Enterprise."
|
|
|
|
Again seconds passed. "Identity confirmed, security override accepted."
|
|
|
|
The door slid open, revealing darkness inside, the air felt cool, and slightly
|
|
damp, like her cave. Etain had apparently requested a familiar environment.
|
|
He stepped inside, and the door hissed closed behind him.
|
|
|
|
"Etain?"
|
|
|
|
His soft query drew no response. He stood still for a moment until his eyes
|
|
adjusted to the darkness, then moved forward. A few steps into the room, his
|
|
foot encountered something small and hard, and he knelt to find out what it was.
|
|
Strands of some soft, fine material surrounded several small objects. Lifting
|
|
one, he discovered it to be one of her penannular pins.
|
|
|
|
Some of the strands clung to it for a moment before falling off. The brooch
|
|
seemed to have been left in a sort of nest of the substance. He reached down
|
|
again to identify the other objects hidden: the other brooch, her rings, all
|
|
her ornaments except the lunnula were there. He replaced the penannular where
|
|
he had found it, and stood, a cold awareness tingling along his skin. The
|
|
little mound screamed of ritual, a sacrifice of some sort.
|
|
|
|
He walked carefully to the door of her sleeping-room, but encountered no more
|
|
offerings. He stood still in the doorway, listening, and, to his relief, heard
|
|
the slow, even sound of breathing.
|
|
|
|
"Etain?" he ventured again, still quiet.
|
|
|
|
The breathing caught, but she did not answer. He smiled wryly, as if she could!
|
|
He was no Guinan or Troi to hear her thoughts. He moved into the room.
|
|
|
|
"Lights, low level, gradual."
|
|
|
|
Illumination grew steadily, like dawn breaking. He almost gasped, wondering if
|
|
he had imagined hearing her breathe. She was white, chalk-white, her hands
|
|
rusty-red where they clasped the hilt of her broken blade just below her
|
|
breasts. White face, white clothes, red hands, closed eyes, stillness, knife,
|
|
all registered in a flash. She looked thin, almost skeletal. It took him a
|
|
moment to realize why her face seemed so like a skull. Her hair was gone, no
|
|
more than half an inch remained to give the impression that she lay crowned
|
|
with blood. He remembered the nest of fine strands which had surrounded her
|
|
ornaments, and realized what it was. Her hair. He went to his knees beside
|
|
her and touched two fingers to the hollow beneath her left ear, and was relieved
|
|
to feel the steady tic of her pulse.
|
|
|
|
"Etain?"
|
|
|
|
Only the faintest flicker of her lashes betrayed that she had heard him. He
|
|
glanced at his fingers, and found them dusted with white, only then realizing
|
|
that the whiteness came from some sort of cosmetic, as did the red on her hands.
|
|
A smudge of rust showed on the white fabric beneath her hands where some had
|
|
rubbed off. He relaxed a little, knowing she was not injured, yet. Though it
|
|
no longer had a point, he knew exactly how sharp the little dagger's edge could
|
|
be. He studied her more closely, saw that the lunnula lay around her throat,
|
|
its once-smooth curve marred by a jagged tear which made two truncated horns
|
|
out of what had been a single crescent. Again ritual, he knew it had to be
|
|
such. Its destruction signified something, but what?
|
|
|
|
"Etain, look at me." He did not request, he commanded. Though no other
|
|
motion betrayed her, her eyes opened, slowly lifted to meet his. He recoiled
|
|
from the hopelessness he saw there. Deanna had been right about Etain's state
|
|
of mind.
|
|
|
|
"Why?" he whispered, meaning a thousand different things.
|
|
|
|
__Because I have killed, I have forsworn all that I hold dear. I have become
|
|
death.__
|
|
|
|
Picard's eyes narrowed. Did she know, could she possibly know, the significance
|
|
of those words? How different had been the man who had said them last, how
|
|
different their respective guilt. Oppenheimer had given man a weapon to
|
|
destroy millions, Etain had killed one man. A man even he had to admit, had
|
|
deserved to die. Even as he thought it, a sudden realization burst over him.
|
|
He had heard her, as clearly as if she had spoken aloud.
|
|
|
|
"Etain, I heard you! How?"
|
|
|
|
__I am not sure. It seems as if I learned it from Deanna, who communicates
|
|
with her imzadhi so, though he is human, and as mind-blind as you. She tried
|
|
to teach me before, but until I touched the ardt-aa and called its power to
|
|
kill the Darkmind, I was unable.__
|
|
|
|
"Wait, back up, Deanna's what?"
|
|
|
|
Instead of a name, he saw a picture, the flash of teeth in dark beard,
|
|
mischievous and disconcertingly direct blue eyes. Riker. Now that was
|
|
interesting. He had always wondered, there were currents, and subtleties he
|
|
had sensed, but never been able to confirm. No wonder it sometimes seemed
|
|
those two were a step ahead of him.
|
|
|
|
"Can you speak so with anyone?" he asked.
|
|
|
|
An odd expression crossed her face, and she slowly shook her head. __No, not
|
|
anyone, not yet. Soon, though, I think.__
|
|
|
|
He did not press her. There were more important matters to discuss.
|
|
|
|
"What was it you said unlocked this ability?"
|
|
|
|
She nodded. __The ardt-aa, the place where the Shining Ones speak. Where my
|
|
mother's mother lay, until the Darkmind swept her away like the leavings of a
|
|
meal. I put my hands on the stone, and my hatred woke something, I had
|
|
thought the Old Power was gone, broken, but it filled me then, and gave me
|
|
strength to act on my desire, to kill.__
|
|
|
|
Picard frowned thoughtfully, realizing she spoke of the central stone in the
|
|
lithic circle which lay in the center of Dhara, the one Data had discovered was
|
|
a doorway to the Preserver installation below.
|
|
|
|
"Interesting. I suspect Mr. Data will be intrigued by that bit of information.
|
|
But why would it give you the ability to communicate, if your desire was only
|
|
to kill?"
|
|
|
|
__I needed to tell him why he died.__
|
|
|
|
Her reply was succinct, and plausible. The Preserver's technology was still
|
|
active, many of the devices they had found in the 'control room' functional. It
|
|
made sense that the central stone was a channel of some sort. But why would
|
|
they have left such a dangerous tool in the hands of primitives? If anyone
|
|
could access it, any Rua'Shi, that is, it could easily have become an
|
|
instrument of petty vengeance. Was that why there had been so few Rua'shi left
|
|
to die of Delvekia's engineered plague? Had they killed each other off? Dhara
|
|
had been built to house thousands, yet they had found the remains of only
|
|
eight-hundred. Etain's next words countered his speculation.
|
|
|
|
__Only one in each generation could use the ardt-aa. Just one, and she the
|
|
greatest of us. It was her duty and her right, to judge. Three times since
|
|
the Rua'shi came to Third Home it has been used, now four. But I was not
|
|
chosen, I was not trained, I alone must bear the blame, for I did as you have
|
|
said. I killed, of my desire, not of calm justice.__
|
|
|
|
Things were beginning to fall into place, finally. He was starting to
|
|
understand.
|
|
|
|
"Why have you shut out Counselor Troi, and Guinan?"
|
|
|
|
Etain stared at him for a moment, seeming puzzled by his sudden change of
|
|
topic, then she looked away.
|
|
|
|
__I do not wish to hurt them. I would not hurt anyone, ever again. I have
|
|
killed in anger. I locked the door, against them, against you. You came
|
|
anyway.__
|
|
|
|
"I had to. I cannot let you do this."
|
|
|
|
Anger flashed across her face, as quick and hot as lightning. __You cannot
|
|
stop me!__
|
|
|
|
Despite her anger, there was an uncertainty to her projection, a defiant veneer
|
|
with nothing behind it. He regarded her steadily for a moment, understanding
|
|
beginning to come. He began to smile.
|
|
|
|
"Can't I?"
|
|
|
|
__You cannot.__ she affirmed again, more surely this time.
|
|
|
|
He nodded. "I cannot command you, I have no authority to do so, I can't
|
|
restrain you, and you know that as well, but I can ask you. Do not do this
|
|
thing. Do not let him win."
|
|
|
|
She closed her eyes, and turned her head on the cushions, the first real
|
|
movement she had made since he had entered.
|
|
|
|
__I do not understand. Do not let who win?__
|
|
|
|
Picard sat down, close beside her, so close he knew she could not shut out his
|
|
presence, or his words.
|
|
|
|
"You understand perfectly well!" Picard snapped harshly, then softened his tone
|
|
abruptly. "Etain, he has destroyed your people, all but you. Now, though he's
|
|
gone, you will let him destroy you too. Who will sing, then, for your lost
|
|
ones? Who will tell their stories? Who will remember them as they were, not
|
|
as they became?"
|
|
|
|
She curled away from him, doubling in on herself, one hand still clutching the
|
|
blade, the other covering her face, leaving red streaks on the white.
|
|
|
|
__You do not understand! I have broken the oldest, most sacred of our laws.
|
|
He could not help what he was, yet I judged him evil, and ended him. Now I am
|
|
the last, and there is no one left to absolve me!__
|
|
|
|
"Absolve yourself!" he snapped. "Coran Delvekia called death to him, he asked
|
|
for it with every death he caused. You were merely the channel through which
|
|
it came."
|
|
|
|
Etain shook her head, fiercely. __I judged him, in anger; I lashed out, in
|
|
anger, what is to say I will never do so again?__
|
|
|
|
At last, the real fear. He had gotten down to it, through all the false
|
|
layers. He felt, momentarily, a sense of elation, and wondered if this was how
|
|
Deanna felt when she brought a patient to this point, how Beverly felt when she
|
|
saved a life. Then he realized it wasn't over yet. The fear was revealed, but
|
|
needed to be assuaged. That sobered him quickly, and he chose his words
|
|
carefully.
|
|
|
|
"Etain, you know you would not. In each of us there is a point past which we
|
|
may not be pushed. It takes a lot to reach it. You know, I too, have killed."
|
|
|
|
She waved her hand, dismissingly. __You are a warrior, it is expected of you.
|
|
I am a healer.__
|
|
|
|
He was momentarily amused by the image her words conjured. He did not see
|
|
himself so. "Perhaps in a sense that is true, however, to use your analogy,
|
|
in order to cure the patient, one must kill the disease. If it had continued
|
|
to spread unchecked, it might have destroyed not just your people, but his own
|
|
as well. What he did was wrong, and that he was allowed to do it was wrong,
|
|
but there are many who would have stopped him, if they had known," he paused,
|
|
not knowing quite how to express his next thought. After a moment, he
|
|
continued. "You killed a man, and that was wrong. You will have to come to
|
|
terms with that, you will have to accept it. Though ordinarily I would never
|
|
condone such a thing, I must admit you had more than just cause; however my
|
|
absolution is meaningless. You must forgive yourself."
|
|
|
|
She did not respond. Instead she turned onto her stomach and placed one arm,
|
|
wrist up, on the cushions, with the other, she brought the knife up until it
|
|
rested lengthwise against her skin there. Her hand trembled. He held his
|
|
breath, resisting the urge to grab the thing and throw it across the room. It
|
|
had to be her decision. Besides, if he tried it, with her Vulcan heritage, she
|
|
would probably throw him across the room.
|
|
|
|
He waited, and watched, too tense, but unwilling to make a move which would
|
|
precipitate her act. A bead of mahogany blood appeared beside the blade, then
|
|
another. then suddenly she rolled to her knees and threw the knife at the wall.
|
|
The blade hit the smooth metal and shattered. She stared after it, shaking,
|
|
her face a mask of anguish.
|
|
|
|
__I cannot! I do not want to die!__
|
|
|
|
"I did not think you did." he said softly, and put a hand on her shoulder, in
|
|
a gesture of comfort which came awkwardly to him. She turned swiftly, shaking
|
|
his hand free, fear and distrust in her eyes.
|
|
|
|
He understood immediately. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean..."
|
|
|
|
The fear went out of her instantly and she shook her head regretfully. __I
|
|
know you did not. I must learn to accept it. I cannot live always in fear of
|
|
the slightest touch.__ she smiled suddenly, the expression strange in the red
|
|
and white mask of her face. __You have spoken truthfully. I accept what I
|
|
have done, and I will atone however I may, but I will not fear myself again.
|
|
Thank you, for caring.__
|
|
|
|
He felt a flush darken his face. As always, the open discussion of his emotions
|
|
embarrassed him. She looked at him oddly, her head tilted to one side.
|
|
|
|
__There is no shame in caring. Why do you feel there is?__
|
|
|
|
Picard sighed. The question. The one he had been asked over and over again
|
|
throughout his life. The one he had no answer for. He shook his head. "To be
|
|
honest, I don't really know. I've always been this way, I suspect I always
|
|
will be."
|
|
|
|
Etain looked at him for a moment longer, then nodded. __Yes. I think you will.
|
|
What you give, you give easily, but never openly. Understand, though, that
|
|
whatever you are willing to give, I will gladly accept. You have given back my
|
|
life life, twice over.__
|
|
|
|
Her gaze was level, her changing eyes a clear, quiet gray-green, like the north-
|
|
atlantic sea in winter. Momentarily the color stirred a fragment of childhood
|
|
memory, of walking down a stone-scattered beach behind his parents and older
|
|
brother, dreaming of the men who had once sailed the many-masted ships of
|
|
another age, wistfully wishing he could have been one. He had done his best.
|
|
A different sea, perhaps, and a different ship, but no less an adventure. He
|
|
snapped back to the present to find Etain regarding him with a slightly bemused
|
|
air.
|
|
|
|
Chagrined to have been caught daydreaming, he shook his head. "You owe me
|
|
nothing. I did what my duty requires."
|
|
|
|
Etain shook her head. __Your duty requires you to risk yourself?__
|
|
|
|
"At times, yes, it does. But I saw no risk here."
|
|
|
|
She looked askance at him. __You did not fear I might hurt you?__ she asked
|
|
pointedly.
|
|
|
|
"Of course not! Why should I?"
|
|
|
|
She seemed embarrassed. __I do not know, but others fear me. I am honored by
|
|
your care. Your different culture may argue otherwise, but I am debt-bound to
|
|
you. If you need me, I will come, unless I am prevented by death.__
|
|
|
|
Picard felt himself caught by her gaze again, and knew her meaning went deeper
|
|
than he cared to explore. He glanced away to break the connection.
|
|
|
|
"Thank you. I will remember."
|
|
|
|
Etain nodded, then looked down at her hands and smiled wryly, fanning her
|
|
fingers out, displaying them to herself. __When Deanna showed me how to
|
|
request cosmetics, I do not suppose she had this in mind. Will you wait a
|
|
moment, for me to remove this?__
|
|
|
|
He nodded, wondering abstractedly what it was he was waiting for. She rose
|
|
and left him alone. He speculated for a moment on exactly what her implication
|
|
had been, then deliberately turned his thoughts away. She returned a few
|
|
moments later, her face still pale, but naturally so, the stained tunic and
|
|
leggings exchanged for a moss-green gown vaguely reminiscent of a greek chiton.
|
|
It was clasped on each shoulder by her gold penannulars, and her rings once more
|
|
graced her fingers. The broken lunnula was gone. Picard frowned suddenly.
|
|
The ornaments had been in the outer chamber. She had gone into the bathroom
|
|
and had not come out till now, she had not passed him going to retrieve them.
|
|
How had she gotten them?
|
|
|
|
__Do you think you have seen all my talents, Jean-Luc?__
|
|
|
|
The amused thought came, obviously in answer to his unspoken query. He
|
|
turned to stare at her, unsettled.
|
|
|
|
"Am I so easy to read?" he queried.
|
|
|
|
__Sometimes. It is easier now. Things inside me are changing, some things
|
|
physical, some things not. I hear all of you more easily now, but I can also
|
|
screen you more easily. I will have time to learn all the new things while I
|
|
learn to be part of this world, since my world is gone. Deanna has taught me
|
|
some, Guinan more, but even she cannot help me with some talents, for she does
|
|
not have them.__
|
|
|
|
Picard coughed, taken aback by the thought that this small, fey creature who
|
|
was still in many ways quite primitive might be Guinan's superior in talent.
|
|
Very few knew who, and what, Guinan was, and even of those, none knew precisely
|
|
the extent of her abilities, yet Etain claimed some that Guinan did not have?
|
|
He would have said it impossible, but in his lifetime he had come to understand
|
|
that virtually nothing was impossible.
|
|
|
|
He studied her a moment longer, she looked fragile, as if a good breeze might
|
|
carry her away. It was her hair, partly, emphasizing the fineness of her bone
|
|
structure. She seemed to hesitate a moment, then lifted one hand to touch the
|
|
short-cropped cap of russet. An odd smile curved her lips as she closed her
|
|
eyes, and drew her fingers through it, down her throat, past her shoulder to
|
|
rest on the upper curve of her breast. Magically, the strands beneath her
|
|
fingers seemed to lengthen, following her their path. When she lifted her hand,
|
|
the illusion remained, a single long lock amidst the cropped cap. Or was it
|
|
illusion? Cautiously he touched it and found it quite real.
|
|
|
|
"Good God..." he breathed softly, astonished.
|
|
|
|
__It is little different from healing. Both involve the manipulation of the
|
|
body on a molecular level.__
|
|
|
|
His eyes narrowed. What could she know of molecules, as uneducated as she
|
|
was? To his surprise, she laughed, silently.
|
|
|
|
__I do not give you the words, Jean-Luc, I give you the image, your mind
|
|
supplies the words. In you, I can only speak with your voice, had you not
|
|
noticed?__
|
|
|
|
He thought for a moment, then nodded. "Now that you mention it, it does seem
|
|
a little like talking to myself."
|
|
|
|
She grinned. __And you speak most eloquently. I understand why the Borg
|
|
chose you, no, do not shut me out! You still dream of them, in the darkness.
|
|
You still fear what they did to you, as I fear what was done to me. I can help,
|
|
let me!__
|
|
|
|
He shook his head. "How do you know of the Borg?"
|
|
|
|
"You told me. You showed me, to ease my fears. Do you not remember?"
|
|
|
|
He did remember, but the depth of her perception still shook him. She had only
|
|
touched him for a few seconds that time, how could she have gained so much
|
|
knowledge of him in so short a time?
|
|
|
|
She put her hand on his arm, her eyes pleading for his understanding.
|
|
|
|
__Because I care, and I am not ashamed that I do. I know what to do, how to
|
|
heal this. Let me take away the nightmares!__
|
|
|
|
"How can you heal it in me, but not in yourself?" he asked pointedly.
|
|
|
|
Color flooded her face and her eyes fell, then lifted again, candidly.
|
|
|
|
__It is always easier to heal another. Healing oneself is far more difficult.
|
|
You have trained yourself to deal with fear. I never have. I have always lived
|
|
with it, but never dealt with it. Perhaps, by healing you, I may learn to heal
|
|
myself.__
|
|
|
|
He sat for a long time, considering it. It was odd for her to want to heal him
|
|
now, at a time when it was her own psyche that needed healing, but at the same
|
|
time it was almost understandable. She had spent most of her life trying to
|
|
heal and help others. It was familiar to her, and perhaps even necessary for
|
|
her self-esteem. Finally he sighed.
|
|
|
|
"Beverly and Will are going to have my hide for this."
|
|
|
|
Etain's face lit up. __Then you will allow it?__
|
|
|
|
"You know I will."
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Though she had won, Etain felt no surge of triumph. It was not a contest to
|
|
celebrate the victory of. It was something far, far different. She was not
|
|
so naive as she had been, she knew what she owed this man was impossible to
|
|
repay, but she would give what she could. She sat down beside him and lifted
|
|
her left hand to his face, positioning her fingers carefully, feeling the
|
|
strong, hard curve of bone beneath the warmth of skin. Slowly opened herself,
|
|
past skin, muscle, bone, and blood, to the depths, not just the surface of his
|
|
mind.
|
|
|
|
Fear. Memories of dark pain and invasion momentarily threatened to overwhelm
|
|
her, surging upward to mingle with her own memories, so similar, too similar.
|
|
She pulled away with a gasp, momentarily afraid of him, of his species, and his
|
|
sex. Then she felt the reassuring contact of his hand over hers.
|
|
|
|
"No. No fear. You know I won't hurt you."
|
|
|
|
She opened her eyes, read the promise in his and nodded.
|
|
|
|
__Never.__
|
|
|
|
She lifted her hand once more to lay her fingers against his face, to ease the
|
|
connection she sought. She searched, gently, through and around memories,
|
|
until there, the same helpless anger, the same fruitless struggles against a
|
|
stronger foe. She had found in him her own fear. Tenuous shadow-links
|
|
radiated from that cluster of memories, shadows which waited, to overwhelm
|
|
him in sleep, in waking. She extended her 'hand' and hooked mental 'fingers'
|
|
into the gauzy shadows. In another place, she felt him shudder, heard him
|
|
moan, and paused a moment.
|
|
|
|
__I must do this, Jean-Luc, to free you, but I will take away the pain, it will
|
|
not hurt.__
|
|
|
|
She lifted her other hand to his face, to route the pain into pleasure. His
|
|
hand caught hers.
|
|
|
|
"No." he spoke, hoarsely. "Let it hurt. Some pain must be."
|
|
|
|
She nodded, acquiescing, and closing her 'fingers' into a fist, she ruthlessly
|
|
tore away the phantoms which haunted him. His cry was mental, but no less a
|
|
scream. Quickly she wove new connections so he would not forget, but would
|
|
no longer find terrors in his memories, and his tension began to ease, finally
|
|
fading completely. One last time she searched, looking for any vestige of
|
|
pain. She found none, at least, none related to his experience with the Borg.
|
|
He had not agreed to more, so reluctantly she drew her hand from his face and
|
|
leaned back.
|
|
|
|
__It is done.__
|
|
|
|
"Yes. I know." he opened his eyes, frowning slightly, as if puzzled. "Did
|
|
you learn this from Deanna as well?"
|
|
|
|
__No. The ardt-aa taught me. This, and other things,__ she turned away,
|
|
fighting the welling sadness as she thought of what she had been given, and
|
|
what she had lost. __I suppose that, my being the last Rua'Shi, it had no
|
|
other more appropriate candidate to give the Gifts to. Strange, it did not seem
|
|
to realize that, as the last, I would have no one to use them for.__
|
|
|
|
Picard shook his head. "If it gave you these skills, it must have known you
|
|
would have use for them. I can think of no greater gift than that of healing,
|
|
a gift you already had inborn. To accomplish with a touch what months of
|
|
struggle could not achieve is a formidable talent indeed, one my people need
|
|
perhaps more than yours ever did."
|
|
|
|
Etain started to reply, but was cut off by the comsignal at the door. They
|
|
both jumped like guilty children, staring at the ceiling from which the tone
|
|
had emanated. Seconds later a voice spoke as well.
|
|
|
|
"Etain? Captain Picard? It's Deanna Troi, may I come in?"
|
|
|
|
Picard chuckled, shaking his head, his voice pitched low, for Etain's ears only.
|
|
"I knew I'd get caught. Ah well, best to own up to it now," he turned toward
|
|
the connecting doorway and spoke clearly. "Come."
|
|
|
|
They heard the distinctive hiss of the outer door unsealing, seconds later the
|
|
Counselor appeared in the inner door, her face anxious and tense. Her hair was
|
|
loose, and she was out of uniform, clutching a dark blue robe over her
|
|
nightdress. Clearly, she'd come straight from bed. Seeing them, she relaxed
|
|
visibly.
|
|
|
|
"You're alright, then." she said, with audible relief. "Forgive me, but I...
|
|
heard you, Captain. You seemed in pain."
|
|
|
|
"I was, but no longer." Deliberately he let himself think of the Borg. For
|
|
the first time since being taken over by the human-machine constructs, the
|
|
thought didn't bring a cold sweat, or pounding heart. He shook his head, awed.
|
|
"Etain was merely exorcising a ghost."
|
|
|
|
Deanna looked puzzled, her gaze darting back and forth between them.
|
|
|
|
"A ghost, captain?"
|
|
|
|
"The Borg."
|
|
|
|
Deanna's expressive eyes widened. "The Borg? I don't understand, what do you
|
|
mean?"
|
|
|
|
Etain knew that Picard could never explain what she had done, so she spoke for
|
|
him. __I tempered the fear, Deanna. It was too much, too deep for him to do
|
|
himself. Left alone, it would have taken him, eventually, and he would have
|
|
been a prisoner of it. I went inside, found the linkages, broke them, and wove
|
|
new ones. Now the fear is bound, and will never be free to devour him.__
|
|
|
|
Deanna turned swiftly toward her. "You did what?" she exclaimed, more than a
|
|
little accusation in her tone.
|
|
|
|
Etain recoiled both mentally and physically from the anger she sensed. Not
|
|
expecting it, she had not barriered against it. Before she could gather her
|
|
wits for a reply, not understanding Deanna's anger, Picard spoke.
|
|
|
|
"Enough, counselor. It was my decision to make. And she's right, you know, it
|
|
has been getting worse lately. For a while, it seemed I had a handle on it,
|
|
but apparently I did not."
|
|
|
|
The counselor bristled visibly. "You let an amateur do something that delicate?
|
|
You let someone with no training, someone who just kil..." she stopped, closed
|
|
her mouth and shook her head as if speechless.
|
|
|
|
Etain heard the unsaid word and flinched from it, then remembering her resolve,
|
|
straightened, and sought a reason why the normally compassionate counselor
|
|
would have so deliberately inflicted hurt. After only seconds, the answer came
|
|
and Etain stared at Deanna in sudden surprise. Deanna was jealous! She was
|
|
certain of it, for she herself had experienced it all to often to not recognize
|
|
it in another. There was fear there as well, the kind of fear that comes when
|
|
one discovers another is more talented than oneself.
|
|
|
|
In fact, the counselor had some right, as it was her duty to perform the sort
|
|
of work which Etain had just done, and on top of that, she was humiliated that
|
|
Etain had succeeded where she had not. Etain's pleasure in her accomplishment
|
|
faded suddenly. In helping one, she had hurt another. Would she ever learn
|
|
the rules of this society? They were so confusing, so arbitrary and abstract!
|
|
Feeling suddenly very tired, she rose and crossed to place her hand on Deanna's
|
|
arm. She felt the muscles tense beneath her fingers, and knew the other woman
|
|
had only just resisted yanking her arm away.
|
|
|
|
__I am sorry, I only meant to help. I owe so much, it seemed little enough in
|
|
recompense. I never meant to usurp your place, nor could I.__
|
|
|
|
In the face of Etain's sincerity, Deanna's anger faded, and she looked almost
|
|
sheepish. She looked from Etain to the Captain and back again, and the anger
|
|
became uncertainty.
|
|
|
|
"I'm sorry. It's really none of my business. I was just worried, that's all.
|
|
I see now that nothing's wrong. I'll go."
|
|
|
|
And she did. Without another word. Picard watched her go, puzzled, obviously
|
|
wondering what accounted for the turnabout. Etain sighed, and caught the door-
|
|
frame as sudden dizziness threatened her stability. She slid to her knees,
|
|
leaning her forehead against the cool satiny texture of the wall. She had the
|
|
odd sensation of being in a narrowing tunnel, and then she felt Picard's hands
|
|
at her waist and shoulder, and heard him speak, his voice tight and urgent.
|
|
|
|
"Picard to Crusher."
|
|
|
|
A few seconds later the doctor replied. "Crusher here."
|
|
|
|
Etain was puzzled for a moment, not having sensed the Doctor's arrival, then
|
|
she remembered. Disembodied voices spoke from the walls here. The doctor
|
|
wasn't present, but speaking from wherever she was.
|
|
|
|
"Please report to Etain's quarters. She's passed out."
|
|
|
|
"On my way."
|
|
|
|
Picard lifted her, causing the dizziness to increase to nausea, then,
|
|
blessedly, he put her down on the bed. She felt his fingers against her wrist,
|
|
then her forehead.
|
|
|
|
"As if you could tell if she were ill!" she heard him mutter under his breath.
|
|
|
|
Completely conscious despite her lethargy, Etain tried to summon the energy to
|
|
tell him she only needed food and rest, but couldn't. Besides, she wasn't
|
|
altogether certain it was true. Since the ardt-aa had touched her, she had
|
|
sensed changes, not just in her mind, but in her body as well. Something was
|
|
happening, she just wasn't sure what. Though she found Beverly Crusher
|
|
intimidating, her knowledge of the ways of the body far surpassed Etain's
|
|
haphazard comprehension. She would surely know what the happening.
|
|
|
|
The wait wasn't long. Only a few minutes passed before she heard the outer
|
|
door open, and the doctor's voice.
|
|
|
|
"Jean-Luc?"
|
|
|
|
"In here, Beverly." Picard replied.
|
|
|
|
"Good god!" the doctor exclaimed. "What's she done to her hair? Ah well,
|
|
that's her business."
|
|
|
|
Seconds later, Etain heard the insect-like chirping of Beverly's scanner, then
|
|
a few seconds of silence passed. Finally, impatient, Picard prompted.
|
|
|
|
"Well, Doctor?"
|
|
|
|
"Some of these readings are odd, but primarily it looks like simple exhaustion,
|
|
her blood-sugar levels are so low as to be non-existent, it's no wonder she
|
|
passed out!."
|
|
|
|
"What is it you find odd?"
|
|
|
|
"Her blood chemistry, some levels are much higher than my projected baselines,
|
|
probably due to stress." The doctor's voice changed, became warmer, more
|
|
amused. "If you don't mind my asking, what were you two doing?"
|
|
|
|
"Not what you're thinking." Picard answered, traces of amusement and irony
|
|
clearly present in his voice. "We were talking. Deanna had just left, and
|
|
Etain was standing by the door when she collapsed. I brought her in here, and
|
|
called you."
|
|
|
|
If she had been able to muster the energy, Etain would have laughed. Picard
|
|
had phrased his answer to carefully leave out the fact that he had once again
|
|
allowed Etain to do mindwork on him, in direct contradiction to the Doctor's
|
|
wishes. He had also rendered the Doctor's other speculations null by
|
|
introducing Deanna as a third party. He was very good with words.
|
|
|
|
"I see." Beverly Crusher's voice held just an edge of disbelief. "Well, let's
|
|
see what I can do here."
|
|
|
|
There were more insectile chirps, then a hiss and stinging sensation against
|
|
her shoulder. Within seconds a surprising sense of wellbeing swept through
|
|
her. She opened her eyes to find the doctor's face above her, her expression
|
|
an odd mixture of amusement and concern.
|
|
|
|
"Better?" Beverly queried.
|
|
|
|
Etain nodded, and started to sit up. Immediately Picard offered his hand, and
|
|
she took it, without hesitation, allowing him to pull her upright. The Doctor
|
|
took a step back and shook her finger at Etain.
|
|
|
|
"You eat something, and then you get some sleep, do you understand me?" she
|
|
asked sternly.
|
|
|
|
Etain nodded, feeling a flush of embarrassment climb her cheeks. She had been
|
|
foolish to expend energy on something as insignificant as her hair, and hated
|
|
the fact that her foolishness had been exposed.
|
|
|
|
"Good." Crusher's tone softened. "And stop by Sickbay tomorrow, when you get
|
|
time, I'd like to check your blood-chemistry again when you're more normal."
|
|
|
|
For the third time, Etain nodded, then she looked at Picard.
|
|
|
|
__Will you thank her for me? She has been very kind. And please, ask her what
|
|
it was she did to make me well so quickly, I am curious.__
|
|
|
|
Picard nodded, and relayed Etain's words. Etain was pleased to see the other
|
|
woman smile.
|
|
|
|
"You're quite welcome. As for what I gave you, just a little shot of glucose
|
|
with electrolytes and vitamins as a quick-fix to keep you going until you eat.
|
|
You ought to go into medicine, you know. You'd make a fine..."
|
|
|
|
The doctors voice trailed off suddenly, and she fixed narrowed eyes on Picard.
|
|
|
|
"How did you know she wanted to ask me that?"
|
|
|
|
Picard smiled. "Trade secret."
|
|
|
|
"Jean-Luc." Beverly's voice dripped warning.
|
|
|
|
Picard spread his hands, indicating truce. "It's a new skill she picked up
|
|
from Counselor Troi. Apparently she can bespeak certain humans telepathically.
|
|
She believes that soon she may be able to speak to anyone, not just those most
|
|
familiar to her."
|
|
|
|
Beverly crossed her arms and lifted her eyebrows in patent disbelief. "To my
|
|
knowledge, the only human Deanna can communicate with is Riker, and that
|
|
only because they were lov..., I mean, close friends."
|
|
|
|
Picard lifted an eyebrow back at her. "Deanna's abilities are somewhat limited
|
|
by her human genes. Etain's are rather more extensive. And, thank you Doctor,
|
|
for your information. It seems there is a great deal I didn't know about my
|
|
counselor and my first officer."
|
|
|
|
Beverly flushed. "Don't you dare tell Deanna I let that slip!"
|
|
|
|
"Of course not." Picard assured her smoothly.
|
|
|
|
Etain shifted uncomfortably. She seemed to have an uncanny ability to
|
|
precipitate little spats between the doctor and Picard, and she wished they
|
|
would stop. The tension was quite unpleasant. Both of them looked at her when
|
|
she moved, and she wished they had not done that either. She put her arms
|
|
around her knees, drawing in on herself protectively, avoiding their eyes.
|
|
There was a long silence, then, finally, the doctor spoke.
|
|
|
|
"Sorry. We've no business inflicting this nonsense on you. Come see me
|
|
tomorrow, remember."
|
|
|
|
Etain looked up, and nodded, a smile curving her mouth in acknowledgement
|
|
and thanks. Beverly nodded in return and left the room. Picard was silent
|
|
for a moment longer, then he sighed.
|
|
|
|
"Beverly's right. I apologize as well. Can I get you something to eat?"
|
|
|
|
Etain shook her head, then remembered she had a better means of
|
|
communication, she was unused to it.
|
|
|
|
__No, thank you, I will get it. I would like to be alone for a while, please.__
|
|
|
|
Picard hesitated."Are you sure?" he asked quietly.
|
|
|
|
Even if she had not had access to his thoughts, she would have understood his
|
|
meaning. She straightened.
|
|
|
|
__I am. You do not need to be uneasy, I have let go of death, and I will not
|
|
embrace it again. You have my promise.__
|
|
|
|
He stood for a moment longer, then nodded. "That is more than sufficient.
|
|
When you feel up to it, you should contact counselor Troi and Guinan. They've
|
|
been worried about you."
|
|
|
|
__At the moment I suspect Counselor Troi is more annoyed than concerned, but I
|
|
will do as you ask.__
|
|
|
|
"Good. I will see you later. We have some important matters to discuss."
|
|
|
|
With that, Picard left the room, leaving her to wonder what important matters
|
|
waited. She began to relax, slowly. The tension between Jean-Luc and Beverly
|
|
had affected her more than she had realized. She wondered why they did not
|
|
simply act on their desires. It seemed so much less complicated than denying
|
|
their wishes, when they were perfectly obvious. She frowned. It was probably
|
|
one of their senseless human rules. Perhaps it was a blessing that the Maiden
|
|
had never released her, especially now that all those she might have taken to
|
|
mate were gone.
|
|
|
|
For a moment she allowed herself to imagine how it might have been, imagine a
|
|
mate, like wild Sevhn whom she had loved fiercely with a little girl's desire;
|
|
perhaps a child as dark and beautiful as her father. A darker vision usurped
|
|
her dream, the memory of Sevhn, no longer beautiful, his face blue, frozen in
|
|
the agony of trying to draw breath when none would come. Her eyes filled with
|
|
tears which she hurriedly wiped away, clenching her teeth against the sobs
|
|
which threatened to break as ugly gasps from her mutilated throat, then,
|
|
realizing there was no one there to hear, let herself go.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Deanna stepped into Ten-Forward, eyes searching the bar for Guinan's familiar
|
|
face. She was not there, and, disappointed, she began to turn away.
|
|
|
|
"You look as if your best friend just died. What's wrong?"
|
|
|
|
With a surge of relief she turned to find Guinan's probing gaze on her.
|
|
|
|
"Guinan! I'm glad to see you."
|
|
|
|
"You could have fooled me." the other woman commented drily.
|
|
|
|
"I know, I'm sorry. I feel so foolish, but I knew you would understand. Do
|
|
you have a few moments?"
|
|
|
|
"Of course, what would you like?"
|
|
|
|
"Oh, nothing, I just wanted to talk."
|
|
|
|
"Not even chocolate ice-cream?"
|
|
|
|
Deanna hesitated, there was nothing like a good shot of theobromine to cheer
|
|
one up. A reluctant smile twitched the corners of her mouth and she nodded.
|
|
|
|
"On second thought..."
|
|
|
|
"I thought so. Go, sit, I'll bring it to you."
|
|
|
|
Deanna chose a table, an isolated one far away from the main crowd, and hoped
|
|
no one would come to speak with her before Guinan returned. Whether it was
|
|
luck, or her glum expression which kept others away, her wishes were respected.
|
|
Guinan returned bearing a traditional glass dish within which rested three
|
|
artfully symmetrical mounds of vanilla and chocolate ice-cream flanked on
|
|
either side by bananas, swimming in a glistening sea of chocolate syrup. The
|
|
confection was topped with a cloud of whipped cream, whereon sat the
|
|
ubiquitous neon-red cherry, stem intact. Deanna grinned, and snatched the
|
|
cherry from atop the mountain, and bit the fruit from the stem.
|
|
|
|
"Calories removed?" Deanna queried, chewing.
|
|
|
|
Guinan winked. "Of course. As always."
|
|
|
|
"Good. I'd hate to think however many thousand this concoction has were going
|
|
straight to my hips!"
|
|
|
|
Picking up a spoon, she carefully dug a bite of ice-cream out from the center
|
|
mound and savored it slowly. She felt Guinan watching her, head tilted
|
|
slightly to one side like a curious cat.
|
|
|
|
"So, counselor, what can I do for you?"
|
|
|
|
Deanna sighed and put down her spoon. "I've made a perfect fool of myself,
|
|
Guinan. I embarrassed myself, and, I'm afraid, the Captain as well, along with
|
|
hurting Etain's feelings."
|
|
|
|
"What, all that, in so short a time? An impressive feat! Tell me."
|
|
|
|
Between bites, Deanna explained, outlining the scene in Etain's cabin. When
|
|
she finished, with that, she sighed.
|
|
|
|
"...so you see, by calling Etain a killer, I had to have hurt her, and by
|
|
reprimanding the captain I implied he isn't to be trusted. Then it hit me. I
|
|
was afraid, and I was a little jealous. I haven't really been able to help the
|
|
captain with his nightmares, I'm not that skilled. I was jealous because she's
|
|
better than I am, and I was suddenly afraid that she might take my place."
|
|
|
|
Guinan shook her head. "I hardly think Starfleet is going to replace an
|
|
experienced counselor with a traumatized woman-child."
|
|
|
|
Deanna waved her spoon in the air, not realizing she still held it.
|
|
|
|
"Oh, I know that, Guinan, rationally, but the part of me that responded isn't
|
|
rational! I can't believe I acted so immaturely! The captain must have been
|
|
appalled!"
|
|
|
|
"I imagine he understood. He most often does."
|
|
|
|
A swell of depression swept Deanna and she slouched, elbows on the table, chin
|
|
propped on her hands.
|
|
|
|
"Yes. He does. But that doesn't change the fact that it happened."
|
|
|
|
"No, you're right about that."
|
|
|
|
"Guinan, compared to her, I feel like an amateur. I could never do what she
|
|
did," Deanna whispered, troubled by the fact, and upset that it bothered her
|
|
as much as it did.
|
|
|
|
Guinan chuckled. "To let you in on a little secret, compared to her I seem
|
|
like an amateur! I suspect she has no equal, at least not in this continuum.
|
|
Once she has fully matured, and come into all her talents, her closest
|
|
competition will be the Q. Unfortunately they lack the one thing which would
|
|
make them truly great. They aren't human. She is."
|
|
|
|
Deanna stared at Guinan wide-eyed, shocked. Finally she managed to speak.
|
|
"How can you say she is as powerful as the Q, and in the same breath call her
|
|
human? The Q are, well, a primitive would call them demi-gods."
|
|
|
|
"As would I. But Etain is not. She is human, fully. She has known love and
|
|
hate, pain, and death, and will die herself. She has compassion. The Q don't,
|
|
and can't. That is their greatest failing, one Etain does not share. She
|
|
cares, deeply, perhaps too deeply. When someone else hurts, so does she."
|
|
|
|
"But to be so powerful, she has killed once already!"
|
|
|
|
"And tried to die herself to atone for it! We both know how close to the edge
|
|
she stood. I don't think she'll ever kill again, do you, honestly?"
|
|
|
|
Deanna thought about it, and finally shook her head. "No. Honestly, no. But
|
|
she does frighten me a little."
|
|
|
|
"There is nothing to fear in her, but she needs training, guidance, love, or
|
|
she will never become what she could be. The Captain has asked me for
|
|
suggestions on where to send her, and I don't know what to tell him. The
|
|
Vulcans could teach her much, but they cannot love her. The Deltans could also
|
|
teach her much and they would love, her but they lack the stability she
|
|
desperately needs. My world would have been ideal, but it no longer exists. It
|
|
seems there is no place she would feel at home."
|
|
|
|
Guinan's words triggered a wave of homesickness in Deanna. Betazed held all
|
|
those things for her. Stability, love, learning, peace. She looked up at
|
|
Guinan with sudden resolution.
|
|
|
|
"Yes, there is." She put down her spoon and stood up. "Thank you Guinan,
|
|
you've been a great help!"
|
|
|
|
"I have?" Guinan asked, "How? Wait, where are you going?"
|
|
|
|
Deanna squared her shoulders determinedly. "I'm going to talk with my
|
|
mother."
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
For the second time in as many days, Deanna stood outside Picard's door,
|
|
fidgeting, trying to muster enough nerve to speak to him. She was annoyed by
|
|
her own reticence, normally she had no difficulty speaking to him on any
|
|
subject. It was just that this one was a little touchy. She glanced over
|
|
toward Riker, his big frame slightly slouched in the contours of the conn. He
|
|
smiled at her and nodded, mouthing a silent "Go on". She touched the signal
|
|
before she could change her mind. Seconds later Picard's unmistakable command
|
|
opened the door for her.
|
|
|
|
She stepped inside and stopped, surprised by the presence of a second person in
|
|
the room, a woman she did not know, seated across the table from the Captain, a
|
|
cup of tea half-consumed in one hand and an assortment of datachips and padds
|
|
in front of her.
|
|
|
|
"I'm sorry, Captain, I didn't realize you were occupied. I can come back..."
|
|
|
|
He shook his head and motioned her closer. "No need, Counselor. We were just
|
|
finishing. Counselor Deanna Troi, this is Watcher Kadin Sho, of the
|
|
Federation's legal branch. I have been going over the Halvami situation with
|
|
her."
|
|
|
|
Deanna acknowledged the introduction, studying the newcomer. She appeared to
|
|
be in her mid-fifties, thin and wiry, her white, spun-sugar hair cut in a
|
|
short, no-nonsense fashion which only served to accentuate its flyaway nature.
|
|
Her eyes were icy blue, the color startling against the burnt-sienna of her
|
|
skin, and the lines around her eyes and mouth said she probably frowned more
|
|
often than she smiled, though she didn't appear short-tempered. She eyed
|
|
Deanna with equal candor, rising to extend her hand for the traditional
|
|
handshake, which she gave firmly.
|
|
|
|
"I am pleased to meet you, Counselor Troi. It seems we've a mess on our hands,
|
|
haven't we?"
|
|
|
|
Deanna glanced at the Captain, found no clue as to how she should respond in
|
|
his steady gaze, and nodded slowly.
|
|
|
|
"I'm afraid so. It is a very sad, very complex situation."
|
|
|
|
Kadin Sho nodded, a marked gravity in her demeanor. "It is indeed." Her
|
|
bright gaze shifted to Picard. "I would like some time to go over these
|
|
documents, and then I would like to meet the Rua'Shi woman, Etain. After that,
|
|
I will need time to process the information."
|
|
|
|
Picard rose. "I will have Lieutenant Marsh see you to your quarters. Let me
|
|
know when you are ready for Etain."
|
|
|
|
Deanna waited while the Captain summoned Marsh and dispatched the special
|
|
prosecutor, then turned his attention back to her.
|
|
|
|
"Well, Counselor, what do you think?"
|
|
|
|
She considered a moment, choosing her words carefully. "She appears to be very
|
|
intelligent, and very practical. I think she is an excellent choice. I find
|
|
it interesting that they sent an Efrosian."
|
|
|
|
"So do I. That should be to our benefit. Their reputation as adjudicators
|
|
cannot be equaled; and Watcher Sho is among the best. What did you wish to
|
|
ask me?"
|
|
|
|
For a moment she stared at him blankly, then remembered. "I wanted to speak
|
|
with you about Etain. I realize we won't know if she will be allowed complete
|
|
freedom when all is said and done, but if she is, we need someplace for her to
|
|
go."
|
|
|
|
"I am aware of that, Counselor." he said, his voice dripping irony.
|
|
|
|
She gritted her teeth. "I know that, sir, I'm just laying a little groundwork.
|
|
I have a suggestion."
|
|
|
|
He looked slightly surprised, and curious. "Go on."
|
|
|
|
"Guinan and I believe she would be most at home on a world where the majority
|
|
of the population is telepathic. That narrows our choices considerably. Vulcan,
|
|
Delta, Tarvis 7, and my own homeworld, Betazed. We have discussed the
|
|
possibilities, and agree that Betazed is probably the most suitable." She took
|
|
a deep breath, and forged ahead. "In light of that, I have contacted my mother
|
|
and asked that she accept guardianship of Etain until such time as she has
|
|
completed her basic education and metapsychic training. Of course it all hinges
|
|
on whether or not Etain is freed, after the hearings."
|
|
|
|
For several seconds Picard was totally immobile. Deanna found herself not
|
|
breathing, and forced herself to begin again. Finally, he spoke.
|
|
|
|
"Although your mother and I have our differences, I must admit, it seems a
|
|
reasonable solution. Lwaxana has the precisely the sort of influence, drive
|
|
and resources necessary for a situation like this."
|
|
|
|
A vast feeling of relief came over Deanna, so vast that she almost missed the
|
|
slight upward quirk of one corner of his mouth as he continued in the same dry
|
|
tone.
|
|
|
|
"Besides, giving her something to occupy her may be just the thing to keep her
|
|
out of our hair for a while."
|
|
|
|
She stared at him, and a slow smile curved her mouth. "I must admit to having
|
|
had similar thoughts, sir."
|
|
|
|
"I would be surprised if you had not." He paused a moment, then smiled. "She
|
|
didn't do so badly with you."
|
|
|
|
Deanna laughed wryly. "Thank you... I think. She should be on her way here
|
|
now. She wouldn't agree to wait for the results of the adjudication."
|
|
|
|
Picard lifted an eyebrow. "Did you really expect her to?"
|
|
|
|
"No, sir, not really. I simply thought it best to warn you."
|
|
|
|
"I appreciate that. I'll ask Worf to keep us both alerted as to her time of
|
|
arrival. Oh, and Counselor..."
|
|
|
|
"Yes, sir?"
|
|
|
|
"Should the situation ever arise again, please discuss such matters with me
|
|
prior to discussing them with your mother."
|
|
|
|
Deanna nodded, embarrassed. "I will sir. I would have done so this time, but
|
|
I impulsively called her first to pose the question, hypothetically of course.
|
|
She saw through that, as I should have known she would."
|
|
|
|
Picard chuckled. "Yes, you should have. She may be deliberately obtuse at
|
|
times, however she is by no means an unintelligent woman."
|
|
|
|
"'Deliberately obtuse,' I suppose that is one way to put it."
|
|
|
|
"One way, yes."
|
|
|
|
The look they exchanged was full of understanding. Deanna sighed. "I'll be in
|
|
my office if I am needed. Thank you, sir."
|
|
|
|
"No, thank you Counselor."
|
|
|
|
Deanna nodded and left the room, feeling much happier than she had a few
|
|
minutes earlier.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Jaron Kelssohn stared out into the deepening teal and wine shadings of the
|
|
sunset, his shoulders hunched forward, head down, to all appearances oblivious
|
|
to the uniformed man who stood behind him. The fading light cast rosy shadows
|
|
in his silver hair. After several minutes of uncomfortable silence passed he
|
|
sighed and turned.
|
|
|
|
"So, Davan. How bad is it?"
|
|
|
|
"Bad. Very bad. I don't think it could get much worse. A Federation
|
|
prosecutor arrived by warp-shuttle to review the case. An Efrosian woman."
|
|
|
|
Kelssohn let himself sag further, as if disheartened by the news. "Efrosian?
|
|
What caste?"
|
|
|
|
Davan met his gaze evenly. "First Watcher."
|
|
|
|
Kelssohn stiffened, just enough. "First... gods, it has to be Kadin Sho. I've
|
|
heard of her. She was the prosecutor at Torbas Five. The Torbasians lost
|
|
everything."
|
|
|
|
Davan nodded grimly. "I know. I remember. So what do we do?"
|
|
|
|
"Do?" Kelssohn echoed. "What can we do? We can hope that Coran didn't implicate
|
|
all of us. If so, then perhaps we can still see our way clear of this. If not...
|
|
well, I suggest we make arrangements to leave. Quietly, and with as much
|
|
as we can carry. What do you think, Dav? How deep did he drop us?"
|
|
|
|
Davan stared at the floor, scowling fiercely, then ran a hand through his
|
|
greying brown hair, shaking his head.
|
|
|
|
"I wish to god I knew. He was always very careful, until recently. After the
|
|
Ygdrasil was damaged and he learned that the Enterprise was coming instead, he
|
|
suddenly began to make the most amateur mistakes! Leaving the halflings to tend
|
|
the Fleeter's rooms was inconceivable, then he compounded the error by trying
|
|
to kill Picard. I should have refused to go along with it, but I thought he had
|
|
some plan, something to back it up with. Instead I find he's improvising.
|
|
Setting up an ambush in the halfling city was like admitting his guilt! I
|
|
can't say how much he might have left for them to find."
|
|
|
|
"And now they've frozen his files, his assets, everything. We can't even get
|
|
in to look without them knowing about it." He paced thoughtfully, like a
|
|
massive, white-pelted bear scenting prey. After a moment he stopped and looked
|
|
up, his pale blue eyes gleaming. "What if we launch our own investigation? We
|
|
could say we knew nothing of Coran's activities, and are," Kelssohn smiled
|
|
mirthlessly, "...deeply shocked by recent events."
|
|
|
|
Davan thought about it for a moment, then shook his head. "It wouldn't wash.
|
|
Picard has thirty of my men, and they know where the wind's from. No doubt
|
|
I've already been implicated in at least the most recent series of events."
|
|
|
|
"And me?" Kelssohn asked softly.
|
|
|
|
"I... don't know. We were always careful to avoid mentioning your involvement,
|
|
but some may have guessed."
|
|
|
|
"Mere guesses cannot convict, my friend. It sounds as if I've a fighting
|
|
chance. You, on the other hand, do not. I can make arrangements for you to
|
|
be... spirited away. I have several connections who would be glad to help."
|
|
|
|
Davan's expression remained carefully neutral as he considered the offer, then
|
|
he shook his head with seeming regret. "No, I can't accept, generous though
|
|
the offer is. It might, somehow, be traced back to you. I think I had best
|
|
find my own way."
|
|
|
|
Kelssohn sighed theatrically. "Ah well, we must each do as we think best.
|
|
Will I see you again?"
|
|
|
|
"Perhaps. One never knows," Davan answered evasively, shrugging.
|
|
|
|
"Well then, farewell, old friend, and thank you for your years of service."
|
|
|
|
Kelssohn held out his hand. Davan took it, after an almost imperceptible
|
|
moment of hesitation. They shook hands with showy warmth, then Kelssohn
|
|
turned back to the sunset once more. Davan watched him a moment, his
|
|
expression unguarded, and vastly suspicious. Finally he turned and walked
|
|
toward the door.
|
|
|
|
"Good luck." Kelssohn called, pivoting to watch him go.
|
|
|
|
Davan nodded, distracted, and left the room. Kelssohn stared after him a
|
|
moment, then began to smile as he returned his attention again to the last
|
|
vestiges of the day's light. He chuckled once.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Davan Delvekia stood outside the door, listening. He heard Kelssohn's laugh,
|
|
and knew his suspicions were correct. He was being set up. Well, he thought,
|
|
two could play that game. He wasn't comptroller of security for nothing.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Kadin Sho stared out at the stars, her face expressionless as she Watched,
|
|
unseeing, letting her mind range as it willed. Her very lack of concentration
|
|
freed her intellect to jump and wander, pulling seemingly innocuous facts into
|
|
a cascade of order. Things began to make sense, a strange, convoluted sense.
|
|
She blinked, focused, and came back to the present with a serene smile. Turning
|
|
she touched the companel at her left hand.
|
|
|
|
"Captain Picard?" she queried.
|
|
|
|
"Picard here." His voice was calm, incurious.
|
|
|
|
"Kadin Sho," she said, identifying herself. "I would like to meet Etain now."
|
|
|
|
"Of course. I will bring her."
|
|
|
|
"No. I wish to see her alone."
|
|
|
|
There was a pause, then he spoke again. "Watcher Sho, I believe you are aware
|
|
that Etain cannot speak. Either Counselor Troi or Guinan can serve as
|
|
interpreter."
|
|
|
|
"No. Alone. I believe we will be able to communicate. You may bring her here,
|
|
but you must leave her at the door, and do not tell her who I am, or why I am
|
|
here."
|
|
|
|
"She has a right to counsel, Watcher Sho."
|
|
|
|
She smiled. He was cautious. "I understand your worry, Captain, but I am
|
|
charged with making a determination as to whether this case is prosecutable.
|
|
In order to do that, I need to know a something about the character of our only
|
|
witness. I make no judgements as to her guilt or innocence, I am only here to
|
|
determine probable cause. If you wish to check the legality of my methods, you
|
|
may. I can wait. If you are wondering about my credentials, I suggest you
|
|
access the complete files on the Torbas Five incident. I was assigned there as
|
|
preliminary investigator as well."
|
|
|
|
There was another pause, then he spoke again. "No, that will not be necessary.
|
|
I will do as you wish."
|
|
|
|
"Thank you, Captain."
|
|
|
|
She dropped her hand from the companel and sat down to wait.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Etain followed Picard down the corridor, curious, and nervous. She felt as if
|
|
she should be running, not walking. He was uncomfortable about something, but
|
|
had not revealed what, or where he was taking her.
|
|
|
|
__Picard?__
|
|
|
|
"Yes, Etain?"
|
|
|
|
A passing crewmember glanced at him, curiously, probably wondering why the
|
|
Captain had responded as if someone had asked him a question, when no one
|
|
else had spoken. Etain hurriedly touched his sleeve to make her query more
|
|
visual. The crewman's gaze wandered away as Picard stopped and turned
|
|
toward her.
|
|
|
|
__Where are you taking me?__ She accompanied her mental speech with
|
|
gestures, in case anyone else was watching. She didn't want to give the
|
|
impression that Picard was talking to himself.
|
|
|
|
His expression remained grave. "To meet someone."
|
|
|
|
__Who?__
|
|
|
|
"A woman, beyond that I cannot tell you."
|
|
|
|
__Why... no, you cannot tell me that either, can you?__
|
|
|
|
"Correct. Nor should you attempt to find out in any other way."
|
|
|
|
She stared at him without comprehension for a moment, then stiffened
|
|
indignantly. __I would not! I do not enter unasked!__
|
|
|
|
"No, I know that. I only meant... well, never mind that. I suppose that was a
|
|
non-telepath's paranoia showing. I'm sorry."
|
|
|
|
__You should be,__ she retorted, apparently not mollified. __Take me to her
|
|
then, this mysterious woman. I am most curious about her.__
|
|
|
|
He nodded, and continued ahead. She followed, a pace behind, still a bit
|
|
annoyed that he would think so little of her self-restraint. She was still
|
|
annoyed when he stopped and indicated a door.
|
|
|
|
"Here. She has asked to see you alone."
|
|
|
|
That startled her. Why would someone she did not know wish to see her alone?
|
|
She searched his face for suddenly needed reasurrance, and found it in his
|
|
calm. Whoever this was, she was no threat. She nodded, a little nervous, and
|
|
touched the small button which would announce her presence. Immediately the
|
|
door opened.
|
|
|
|
"Come in. I am here."
|
|
|
|
She glanced once more at Picard, who nodded toward the open door. She
|
|
straightened her shoulders and stepped inside. Alone.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Kadin studied the small figure intently. She was nervous, that was betrayed by
|
|
her breathing. She was also curious; her gaze direct and probing. Kadin stood
|
|
up.
|
|
|
|
"Thank you for coming. I am Watcher Sho, also called Kadin. I am here to look
|
|
into what has gone before."
|
|
|
|
Etain nodded, a slight frown creasing her forehead. Kadin noted her raggedly
|
|
cut hair, and remembered reading Picard's personal log, his explanation for
|
|
both the short, and the long strands. It had made interesting reading. Though
|
|
she knew the Rua'Shi woman was probably over a hundred and thirty five years
|
|
old, given the fact that she claimed a Sleep, which they estimated at a hundred
|
|
years, and thirty five 'waking' years, she looked like a human of about twenty
|
|
five. A young twenty five, at that.
|
|
|
|
"You killed a man." She stated the fact flatly, suddenly.
|
|
|
|
Etain did not flinch, or cower. Her gaze remained steady as she slowly nodded.
|
|
Kadin was pleased by her response.
|
|
|
|
"Was it justified?"
|
|
|
|
Again, Etain nodded. Her gaze never wavered.
|
|
|
|
Kadin considered her answer, thoughtfully, then posed another question.
|
|
|
|
"What would you do if you found that someone else was guilty of the same
|
|
crime?"
|
|
|
|
Etain's frown deepened, after a moment she shook her head, obviously not
|
|
understanding the question. Kadin rephrased it.
|
|
|
|
"What would you do if you discovered the man you killed had accomplices?
|
|
People who aided him."
|
|
|
|
The young woman's face paled to ivory and for the first time her glance
|
|
faltered as she stared off into the distance, at nothing. After several seconds
|
|
had passed, she shivered, and her eyes returned to meet Kadin's. She put her
|
|
palms together, then thrust them abruptly out and apart, turning her head aside
|
|
with an expression of distaste. For a moment she remained so, head averted,
|
|
eyes closed, hands out, then she looked back, her eyes asking for understanding.
|
|
|
|
Kadin nodded.
|
|
|
|
"Yes. Very clear. Only one more thing... you have said that Coran Delvekia
|
|
admitted, in front of you, that he killed your people. Is that true?"
|
|
|
|
One last time, Etain's gaze sought and held hers, and she nodded, gravely.
|
|
Unequivocally. Kadin had her answer.
|
|
|
|
"Thank you, you may go." She smiled slightly. "I suspect the Captain is
|
|
waiting outside. Feel free to tell him what I asked."
|
|
|
|
Etain nodded, and moved to go, then suddenly turned back. She was smiling.
|
|
Kadin felt her projection of gratitude, almost verbal in its clarity. She
|
|
nodded.
|
|
|
|
"You're welcome."
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
______________________________________________________________________________
|
|
copyright 1992, Kellie Matthews-Simmons
|
|
matthews_k@cubldr.colorado.edu//matthewk@spot.colorado.edu
|
|
all rights reserved
|
|
|
|
Standard Disclaimers Apply
|
|
|
|
From JULIA@Jetson.UH.EDU Tue Aug 31 12:51:25 1993
|
|
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|
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|
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From: JULIA@Jetson.UH.EDU
|
|
To: jfy@cis.ksu.edu
|
|
Subject: (TNG) Silence, A Novel by Kellie Matthews-Simmons, Part 12
|
|
Date: Tue, 31 Aug 1993 12:45:49 -0500 (CDT)
|
|
|
|
CHAPTER TWELVE
|
|
|
|
Etain found that the strange woman was right. Picard was waiting for her when
|
|
she stepped out of the dimly-lit room into the bright corridor. He was a few
|
|
steps away, back to her, seemingly absorbed in the study of some feature of the
|
|
wall. She smiled at the small deception.
|
|
|
|
__Picard.__
|
|
|
|
He turned, his expression concerned, and a little surprised.
|
|
"That was quick."
|
|
|
|
__Yes. It was. That is a remarkable person, I am honored to have met her.__
|
|
|
|
He nodded, frowning thoughtfully. "What, if you don't mind my asking, did she
|
|
say to you?"
|
|
|
|
__I do not mind. She asked me four questions. If I killed a man, if it was
|
|
justified, what would I do if I discovered he had accomplices, and did the
|
|
Darkmind tell me he killed my folk. I answered them.__
|
|
|
|
He looked slightly shaken. "You answered them... just like that?"
|
|
|
|
She wondered suddenly if she had done something wrong. __Should I not have?
|
|
I did not think to lie.__
|
|
|
|
He let out a short, explosive sigh. "No. Of course not. How did you answer
|
|
her? Did you speak, as we do?"
|
|
|
|
__No, I...__
|
|
|
|
She stopped suddenly, distracted and puzzled by a strange new awareness. A
|
|
feeling that someone called her, that she was needed somewhere. But where did
|
|
it come from? What was it, or who was it that called? The call was wordless,
|
|
yet urgent.
|
|
|
|
On the wall an amber light began to flash, and the Bearded-One's voice called
|
|
Picard, who scowled and touched the bright metal symbol on his chest. Behind
|
|
her, she heard the soft sound of Watcher Sho's door as it opened. Time seemed
|
|
to slow strangely, and she could not breathe. She felt her knees give way as
|
|
she tried to call for help, then everything disappeared into an eye-aching blue
|
|
haze.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Picard thought for a moment that Etain's attention had been caught by the
|
|
sudden appearence of the yellow-alert signal, but as he responded to Riker's
|
|
hail he realized that she had stopped communicating moments before the alert
|
|
had begun. She had a peculiar, listening expression on her face; one hand
|
|
outstretched, as if halted in mid-motion. Beyond her he saw Kadin Sho step out
|
|
of her cabin, obviously curious about the alert. He listened to Riker without
|
|
hearing him as a blue glow began to suffuse the space where Etain stood, and
|
|
she began to crumple slowly even as her solidity faded.
|
|
|
|
The Watcher cried out a warning and started forward, as he did. Their hands met
|
|
in empty air. No one stood between them. Shaken, they stared at each other
|
|
for a moment. Picard recovered first, and stepped back, studying the area
|
|
carefully, assuring himself that there was no trace of Etain. Only then did he
|
|
touch his combadge, his voice controlled.
|
|
|
|
"Commander Riker, would you please repeat that last?"
|
|
|
|
"Aye sir. Seconds ago the entire Preserver complex suddenly became sensor
|
|
apparent, and some sort of energy probe originating there swept the ship. We
|
|
are showing no damage or casualties, but I think you should get up here."
|
|
|
|
His eyes met the Watcher's, she still looked unnerved. He suspected he did as
|
|
well. "We have one 'casualty', Number One. Etain just disappeared."
|
|
|
|
Riker's response was a soft curse. Picard agreed with him.
|
|
"I'm on my way, Will, Picard out."
|
|
|
|
He had already started for the closest turbolift, when the Watcher's voice
|
|
stopped him.
|
|
|
|
"Captain, I thought you should know, I am recommending this case for
|
|
prosecution."
|
|
|
|
He nodded, and resumed his stride.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
The lift doors opened onto a scene which seemed bizarrely normal. Everyone in
|
|
place, a sensor map glowing on the screen, nothing seemed out of the ordinary
|
|
save for Data's carefully inflected voice over the communication channel. He
|
|
headed for the con which Riker vacated at his approach. Listening to the
|
|
android's monologue, Picard was instantly aware that he had missed something
|
|
important.
|
|
|
|
"...which appears to be robotic. My readings indicate that she is currently
|
|
unconscious."
|
|
|
|
Riker interrupted, unconsciously raising his voice slightly, as if to better
|
|
project across the vast distance.
|
|
|
|
"A moment, Mr. Data. I need to bring the Captain up to date."
|
|
|
|
"Of course."
|
|
|
|
Riker held himself stiffly, formally as he turned toward Picard, who felt
|
|
himself tense in response.
|
|
|
|
"What is it?"
|
|
|
|
"Etain's there, sir. In the Preserver complex. Data contacted us as soon as
|
|
he realized the communicator interference was gone. He said he was continuing
|
|
his attempts to find the tonal key to the Preserver control system when
|
|
suddenly the whole thing lit up, and became functional. Then Etain appeared
|
|
in a blue field, apparently some sort of transporter effect. Before he could
|
|
reach her, she was surrounded by a level-six force screen, and a robotic device
|
|
is doing something."
|
|
|
|
"Doing something?" Picard echoed, appalled. "What kind of something?"
|
|
|
|
Data's voice supplied the answer. "Something medical, possibly surgical. I
|
|
cannot determine precisely what it is from my current position, and am
|
|
prevented from moving by the proximity of the force screen, but the delicacy of
|
|
motion and instrumentation indicates activity a medical nature."
|
|
|
|
A second voice spoke suddenly, startling all of them.
|
|
|
|
"This is Lieutenant Selar. I was working near the stasis chamber when this
|
|
began, and have now reached the scene. I am ninety degrees from Lieutenant
|
|
Commander Data's position, and have a much clearer view. I can confirm that
|
|
the robot is performing some sort of surgical function, involving Etain's left
|
|
temple."
|
|
|
|
She paused for a moment, leaving them to imagine dire thoughts. When she
|
|
spoke again, her voice was softer.
|
|
|
|
"Fascinating. I see now, what it is. Commander Riker, do you recall the
|
|
implants I found on that one Rua'Shi skull? The small, crystalline implants?"
|
|
|
|
Riker nodded, frowning. "Yes, Lieutenant."
|
|
|
|
"The robot is currently implanting similar devices in Etain."
|
|
|
|
"For what purpose?" Picard demanded.
|
|
|
|
"I do not know, sir. I have not been able to determine their function."
|
|
|
|
Data spoke again. "If my conjecture is correct, they are probably used to
|
|
facilitate communication between the Preserver computer, and Etain. This
|
|
entire outpost uses complex crystalline structures to transmit and receive
|
|
power and communication signals. I have already documented this."
|
|
|
|
Picard heard the lift open, and he glanced back to find out who it was. The
|
|
Counselor hurried down the ramp to take her usual place at his left hand, and
|
|
shook her head at his unspoken query.
|
|
|
|
"I sense nothing unusual at the moment, other than our own agitation."
|
|
|
|
He nodded, and looked to Riker. "The sensor map, what does it show?"
|
|
|
|
"The yellow areas are those which before now were impervious to sensor scans.
|
|
Now they're wide open. What we took for element interference was apparently a
|
|
screen, generated by the Preserver controller. Evidently it had to drop the
|
|
screens to find Etain and transport her back to Halvam."
|
|
|
|
Picard nodded, studying the screen. "The tunnel system is rather more
|
|
extensive than we realized." He looked thoughtful. "I wonder why it has been
|
|
screening the area all these years? Once the Rua'Shi were gone, it seems to
|
|
make no sense." He looked back up again, his expression concerned. "Mr. Data,
|
|
Lieutentant Selar, anything new?"
|
|
|
|
Selar replied. "The robot appears to have completed the operation, and is once
|
|
more inactive. Etain is still unconscious, but does not appear to have been
|
|
harmed. She will probably wake on her own shortly. I am monitoring some low
|
|
level brain activity. Interestingly, I read almost identical activity patterns
|
|
coming from what Data believes to be the central computer."
|
|
|
|
"Thank you. Commander Riker, in my ready room, if you would." With that he
|
|
stood and walked up the ramp toward the door. Riker and Troi exchanged
|
|
glances. Both of them were fairly certain they knew what he was going to say.
|
|
Riker quickly stood and followed him. Once they were sequestered from the rest
|
|
of the crew, Picard immediately launched his attack.
|
|
|
|
"I want an away team down there immediately, medical, technical, and security.
|
|
I'm going down as well."
|
|
|
|
Riker stifled a sigh. He'd been expecting that. He weighed the probable
|
|
consequences against the amount of argument and rank-pulling he was likely to
|
|
get. Even he had to admit that it was unlikely that the situation was
|
|
physically dangerous for the captain, given the nature of the site. He nodded,
|
|
grudgingly.
|
|
|
|
"Yes, sir. As long as you understand that I plan to enter my protest in the
|
|
log."
|
|
|
|
Picard looked startled, as if suprised that Riker hadn't put up more of a
|
|
fight. Then a very slight smile lit his eyes, though it did not reach his
|
|
mouth.
|
|
|
|
"Understood, Number One. Will you arrange the away team?"
|
|
|
|
"Of course."
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Fear. She was afraid. There was someone, something, with her. Something she
|
|
didn't know, but that spoke to her in a continuous low voice which made no
|
|
sense. Her head ached as she tried to make sense of it. Words formed, what?
|
|
Not what she knew, exotic, liquid words, almost songs...
|
|
|
|
Song. That was it. The something sang to her, in the voices of her foremothers.
|
|
With a wrenching shift of perspective she found understanding, realized they
|
|
sang in a tongue she had not used for decades, not since she and her kin began
|
|
to think in the language of their captors.
|
|
|
|
__We are those who were before you. Do not fear. We are you. Do not fear.__
|
|
|
|
They were inside her head, where she could not rid herself of them, threatening
|
|
her very self with their presence in an invasion as terrifyingly real as the
|
|
men who had raped her. With a mental scream she tried to close them out,
|
|
physically lashing out against them, hands hitting at empty air because there
|
|
was nothing there to impact. Nothing. They sang on, over and over, the same
|
|
phrase.
|
|
|
|
__Shut up!__ she shrieked soundlessly, frantic to silence them, to stop the
|
|
maddening constancy of their song. It worked. The voices stopped.
|
|
|
|
She opened her eyes and sat up, hoping to find it a nightmare, but doing that
|
|
only made things worse. She did not know where she was. Instead of the
|
|
familiar strangeness of the Enterprise, she lay on the floor of a vast chamber,
|
|
walled with black-glass boxes that were oddly recognizable. Black glass... she
|
|
remembered having a similar feeling of recognition after waking on the
|
|
Enterprise, but had not been able to remember then, either. Was this some part
|
|
of the ship she had not seen before? Tentatively she reached out, searching
|
|
for Picard, Guinan, Troi, anyone.
|
|
|
|
She touched only a single presence. Cool, curious, unemotional. She turned
|
|
toward the being she sensed and saw the Vulcan physician, Selar, regarding her
|
|
from some distance away, through a barrier of softly coruscating light.
|
|
|
|
__Selar, please! What is this place?__
|
|
|
|
The woman started, obviously discomforted by the mental touch, but after a
|
|
moment she replied, verbally.
|
|
|
|
"This is the heart of the Preserver complex which lies below the city you call
|
|
Dhara."
|
|
|
|
Etain looked around, frowning, and slowly got to her feet. __Below Dhara? Is
|
|
there anything below Dhara, save the earth itself? Are you certain?__
|
|
|
|
Selar nodded. "I am. May I inquire as to how do you feel?"
|
|
|
|
As Selar spoke, a curious chiming sound filled the air, and the familiarities
|
|
Etain had sought were suddenly present. Picard, Troi, the Fierce one, the
|
|
Doctor; as well as others she did not know. She began to feel somewhat better,
|
|
seeing them.
|
|
|
|
Etain started to reply to Selar's question with a rote answer. __Fine, I am
|
|
fi...," suddenly she stopped. "No, I am not fine. My head hurts, and there
|
|
were voices..."
|
|
|
|
There was a ripple of surprise through the little group. Doctor Crusher stared
|
|
at Etain, her brows drawn down thoughtfully as she lifted her scanning device
|
|
and pointed it at herself. After a moment she lowered it again and looked at
|
|
Picard.
|
|
|
|
"I heard her, just then." she stated. Her words were echoed by the others,
|
|
even Worf, whose scowl was deeper than usual. Picard nodded.
|
|
|
|
"Etain told me yesterday that she thought she would be able to communicate
|
|
with anyone soon. It looks as though she has made that breakthrough."
|
|
|
|
"It would seem so." the doctor agreed.
|
|
|
|
Picard returned his attention to Etain, and stepped forward, almost touching
|
|
that barrier. There was an expression of mingled concern and relief on his
|
|
face.
|
|
|
|
"You heard voices? What sort of voices?" he queried gently.
|
|
|
|
She thought hard. __Singing voices. Women. My mothers, and their mothers...
|
|
no. Me. It was my voice, ten times over, but at the same time, not my voice,
|
|
someone else's.__ She looked up at him, her terror stark and real. __I am
|
|
mad. I am mad, aren't I? Is that why I am here, to keep you safe? Did I hurt
|
|
someone?__
|
|
|
|
"No!" The word came simultaneously from Picard and Troi. They glanced at
|
|
each other, and with a slight nod, Troi deferred to Picard. He took a deep
|
|
breath.
|
|
|
|
"Etain, you haven't harmed anyone, and you're not mad. We believe that this
|
|
machine," he indicated the multicolored crystalline structure to her left,
|
|
"is attempting to communicate, through you. Some sort of communications device
|
|
has been placed in you, that's why your head hurts."
|
|
|
|
She stared at him, and shuddered, feeling suddenly sick. Inside her? Where?
|
|
Why? She lifted shaking hands toward her face, to where her temples ached and
|
|
throbbed. She reached inside, and found alienness there. Something foreign and
|
|
cold and not-her. Her stomach rebelled, but somehow she managed not to vomit.
|
|
Again, against her will. Again. But like Picard, this time. Her hands
|
|
clenched into fists as she spun around to face the alien thing that Picard had
|
|
called a machine.
|
|
|
|
__I will not have it! I will not be used, not again! You did not ask me, and
|
|
I will not do it! No!__
|
|
|
|
Once more she put her hands to her face, and closed her eyes. Inside, past the
|
|
known paths and structures, to the small strangenesses on either side. She
|
|
sent mental fingers below one, and began to weave new bone, trying to force it
|
|
up, out of her. Pain burst in red and black waves and she staggered. On the
|
|
other side of the light-wall three people stepped forward as if to catch her,
|
|
and were forced back in a flare of brilliance. Through a haze of pain and
|
|
inner-directedness she heard Picard swear, and that small familiarity felt
|
|
somehow strengthening. She pushed again, trying to ignore the pain. Inside
|
|
her mind the voices began once more.
|
|
|
|
__No... child do not! You need us! We need you!__
|
|
|
|
__I need no one!__ she insisted. __I do not know you. You are here against
|
|
my will! You hurt me! I do not need pain!__
|
|
|
|
She structured more cells beneath the implant, and suddenly the inner voices
|
|
fell silent. She slid to her knees, weak with effort and pain. Long seconds
|
|
spilled by, without sound. She swayed slightly, letting her hands fall. The
|
|
things were still there, in her, but it seemed she had won. They were quiet.
|
|
She let herself breathe deeply, trying not to perceive the agony in her head.
|
|
Then the voices spoke again. Voices she both knew, and didn't know. Many
|
|
voices, in one.
|
|
|
|
"We are sorry. Forgive us. We did not ask. We did not perceive it necessary,
|
|
but see now that it was. We did wrong."
|
|
|
|
She looked around, saw the startled expressions on the faces of the others, and
|
|
knew she was not mistaken. That voice had been audible, not just in her head,
|
|
and it had spoken in her new tongue, so they could all understand. Picard
|
|
focused on the machine and asked the question she had wanted to.
|
|
|
|
"Who are you?"
|
|
|
|
"We are the Ban-Chomraida, the Communicators. Those who have gone-before.
|
|
We are Etain, she is us, though each of us was different."
|
|
|
|
Etain stiffened. The Communicators! That was what Mhaiv had always called
|
|
herself. Etain had always thought it odd that she sometimes spoke of herself
|
|
as more than one. Picard's mouth thinned.
|
|
|
|
"You speak in riddles." he said, his tone faintly disgusted.
|
|
|
|
"Etain knows." the voices replied, then, more gently. "She just does not
|
|
realize it yet."
|
|
|
|
"Etain?" Picard asked. She looked at him, and nodded, slowly.
|
|
|
|
__My grandmother called herself the Communicators, sometimes. She said the
|
|
one who spoke with the Singing Ones for the clan on the ardt-aa was always
|
|
called that. But she is dead, years gone, even her bones are gone!__ She
|
|
turned back toward the machine. __You cannot be her.__
|
|
|
|
"She is one of us. We are her, and more than her."
|
|
|
|
"Captain, if I may, I have a theory."
|
|
|
|
Everyone turned to look at Dr. Selar, who appeared suddenly ill at ease with so
|
|
much attention on her. She straightened, and locked her hands behind her back.
|
|
|
|
"When I examined the remains we found above, I found one whose genetic structure
|
|
was so like Etain's as to be virtually identical. I thought at first that was
|
|
because the Rua'Shi's gene-pool was so small that they had become badly inbred;
|
|
but in examining others, I found considerable diversity. Only that one person
|
|
had so similar a genetic structure. That person was also the one who had been
|
|
fitted with small crystalline implants in precisely the same place that Etain
|
|
received them. I have since then discovered that the stasis chamber contains
|
|
genetic material from two-thousand-forty-two different Rua'Shi, which was
|
|
probably preserved for genetic work. These things lead me to believe that
|
|
Etain may be a full clone or partial genetic adaptation of the person whose
|
|
remains I examined above."
|
|
|
|
Picard nodded slowly. "That would explain their riddle. 'We are her, and more
|
|
than her.' It makes sense. Perhaps this device has somehow stored the memories
|
|
of each of Etain's previous clones, and the combined memories have formed a...
|
|
persona of sorts."
|
|
|
|
Etain had moved to within a few inches of the light-wall to listen. She did
|
|
not understand any of it. __Please, Picard, explain to me. I understand that
|
|
Dr. Selar believes me to be a clone of my grandmother, Mhaiv, but what is a
|
|
'clone'? And how can one store memories?"
|
|
|
|
"A clone is like an identical twin, only more so. A person whose every cell is
|
|
identical to yours. As for how one can store memories, I can't answer that,
|
|
because I don't understand the process myself. I do know that several
|
|
civilizations have had the ability, including, I believe, the Vulcans." he
|
|
looked to Selar for confirmation. She nodded.
|
|
|
|
"Yes, after a fashion."
|
|
|
|
Etain was more confused than before. __How can I be my grandmother's twin?
|
|
We were born Sleeps apart.__
|
|
|
|
Picard shook his head. __Time doesn't matter if you have the correct
|
|
technology, which this place quite likely does."
|
|
|
|
__And this is a place of the Shining Ones? What you call the Preservers?__
|
|
|
|
"We believe so, yes. In all likelihood, this is also where the Rua'Shi spent
|
|
their Sleeps."
|
|
|
|
In the midst of complete bewilderment, something suddenly made sense. It
|
|
explained why she kept thinking the black-glass walls were familiar. She had
|
|
seen them before, but in the daze of Sleep, and so had not truly remembered
|
|
them. Having just that single point of reality gave her an anchor. She
|
|
realized she had allowed herself to grow distracted by their words, and with
|
|
summoning strength from somewhere inside she turned once more the she sparkling
|
|
column in the center of the room.
|
|
|
|
__What do you want from me?__
|
|
|
|
"It is your time now. You are the newest of us."
|
|
|
|
She shook her head, slowly, trying to ignore the pain it caused to do so.
|
|
__There is no one left to speak for, don't you realize that?__
|
|
|
|
"But there are. There are the not-yet-born."
|
|
|
|
Etain flinched visibly. __There can be no others. I am the last.__
|
|
|
|
"There is a way. Those you came with know how to cause it. This place is too
|
|
old, it no longer has the ability to create life as it once did. You were its
|
|
last successful attempt. Now you must have their help for the Rua'Shi to
|
|
continue."
|
|
|
|
In her mind a half-formed understanding of the concept they were expressing
|
|
began to take shape. She suddenly realized that the knowledge came from
|
|
Them, through those alien things in her head. Furious at the invasion, she
|
|
pushed the knowledge away.
|
|
|
|
__Stop! Do not use me so!__ Instantly the subtle flow of information ceased.
|
|
She turned again to Picard.
|
|
|
|
__What do they mean? Do you understand them?__
|
|
|
|
His eyes narrowed as he nodded, slowly.
|
|
|
|
"I believe that I do," he looked past her, addressing his next words to the
|
|
Communicators. "The genetic samples in the stasis chamber. You want us to use
|
|
them, to clone the Rua'shi they were taken from, and recreate the race that
|
|
way?"
|
|
|
|
The burst of affirmative sound was loud enough to make the entire group wince,
|
|
some covering their ears. When the reverberation had died away, Etain began to
|
|
shake her head.
|
|
|
|
__No!__
|
|
|
|
There was a moment of silence. Then a single word fell into the silence, the
|
|
machine-voices full of pain.
|
|
|
|
"Why?"
|
|
|
|
__Because, we are no more. It would be wrong, to pretend otherwise. The
|
|
Rua'Shi are gone, there are none left who remember them. They are dust. Our
|
|
world is no more, our city is empty, our ways forgotten. Even I am no longer
|
|
Rua'Shi. Though my blood and bones and skin are still Rua'Shi, my mind is not.
|
|
I am too changed, too different. I have forgotten too much, and I have learned
|
|
too much. We died as a people even before the little ones were killed. There
|
|
are no fearsin left, no mothers, no fathers, no grandparents... no one to teach
|
|
us how to be Rua'Shi! I cannot do it, I know too little of what we were. Even
|
|
if we create living beings in their image, they would not be Rua'Shi, their
|
|
souls would be of your world, because all that made us uniquely Rua'Shi is
|
|
gone, irrevocably gone. It would be like trying to heal a corpse, when life
|
|
has been gone so long that not even a faint trace of its warmth still remain.
|
|
No, foremothers, we are no more, let it be.__
|
|
|
|
Behind her she heard someone crying, and knew it was Deanna Troi. She felt her
|
|
own tears start, but blinked them away. The voices did not reply, but suddenly
|
|
the light-barrier faded.
|
|
|
|
Etain turned, surprised, to see Picard tentatively extend his hand past where
|
|
it had been. Nothing happened. From her right, Data spoke, startling her.
|
|
She had not realized he was there.
|
|
|
|
"Captain, the Preserver power-grid appears to be shutting down. Peripheral
|
|
areas first, in a random pattern. I estimate twenty minutes to full shutdown."
|
|
|
|
"Thank you Data." Picard replied quietly. He walked forward, the Counselor a
|
|
step behind him, until he stood beside her, gazing at the shining pillar.
|
|
|
|
"Etain, are you certain? We can do it. Our technology is certainly up to the
|
|
task. We have the chance to save your people, to let the opportunity pass
|
|
would be a terrible, irreplaceable loss."
|
|
|
|
The tears she had held back began to push past her control, as she shook her
|
|
head.
|
|
|
|
__They know I am right. You see it. As a people we can never be the same.__
|
|
|
|
"You are partially right, the Rua'Shi could not be recreated as they were, but
|
|
Etain, all civilizations change! It is a part of life, and change should be
|
|
positive. Your people are uniquely talented, with skills that could help many.
|
|
I will respect whatever decision you make, but I want you to be sure. I don't
|
|
want you to regret your decision."
|
|
|
|
Some of her certainty began to fade. There was logic in his argument. She
|
|
rubbed her head, trying to ease the pain.
|
|
|
|
The counselor put a hand on her arm. "Right now you are in pain, and you are
|
|
confused, and afraid. Perhaps you should postpone your decision a little while.
|
|
We can transfer the genetic samples to the Enterprise for safekeeping while you
|
|
rest and allow yourself time to think."
|
|
|
|
Slowly she nodded. It seemed to make sense.
|
|
|
|
__I will do as you say. It makes sense. But, please,__ she touched her
|
|
temple again, and looked at Picard. __I want them gone. You understand. Can
|
|
it be done? I could try to do it myself, but it hurts, and the pain makes it
|
|
difficult.__
|
|
|
|
"I suspect that Dr. Crusher can do something about that, but before she does
|
|
will you do something for me?"
|
|
|
|
__What?__ she asked, trying not to be suspicious. Too many people wanted
|
|
something from her.
|
|
|
|
"Ask the machine, the Communicator, not to shut down. The information it
|
|
contains is priceless to us, if possible, we would like to be able to keep a
|
|
research team here to learn from it."
|
|
|
|
She considered his request, and saw nothing harmful in it. Awkwardly she
|
|
reached through the tenuous connection to where she sensed the dull spark of
|
|
intelligence within the orderly construct. __Wait,__ she asked it. The spark
|
|
brightened. Could a machine be hopeful? Its response was a wordless question.
|
|
|
|
__?__
|
|
|
|
__Do not go. I need time, to consider this, and those who have aided me wish
|
|
to learn from you. Will you allow this?__
|
|
|
|
There was a pause, then it replied, its voices once more harmonious. __If you
|
|
will consider, we will allow them to learn that which will not harm them. This
|
|
we will do.__
|
|
|
|
__Thank you. Farewell.__
|
|
|
|
The machine-voices did not reply, but Etain thought she sensed a certain
|
|
satisfaction in it. She looked up at Picard. __It is done. It will allow you
|
|
to learn from it.__
|
|
|
|
His relief was almost tangible. "Thank you, it will be invaluable." He
|
|
beckoned the Doctor forward. "Beverly, can you remove the communication chips?"
|
|
|
|
The doctor scanned her for a moment, then nodded. "A piece of cake. But not
|
|
here. I'd like to get her back to sickbay."
|
|
|
|
Etain stared at her, puzzling over what a sweet had to do with her request.
|
|
Her expression made Deanna laugh as she took Etain's arm.
|
|
|
|
"What Beverly means is that it will be easy. Come, let's get back to the ship."
|
|
|
|
Etain nodded and took a few steps, then stopped, at a loss. In response to
|
|
Deanna's curious look, she shrugged sheepishly. __I do not know how to get
|
|
there from here. Can you show me?__
|
|
|
|
The counselor grinned. "Even better, I'll take you," she touched the badge
|
|
on her breast. "Troi to Enterprise, three to beam up, these coordinates."
|
|
|
|
>From nowhere, a musically accented man's voice replied. "Aye, Counselor.
|
|
Standing by."
|
|
|
|
"Now, please, Mr. O'Brien."
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
The world around her dissolved, then re-formed. She stood once more on the
|
|
Enterprise, in a small chamber on a raised dais. The experience was peculiar,
|
|
but not frightening. A stocky man with curly sand-colored hair stood behind a
|
|
console, regarding her with curiousity, and almost recognition. She wondered
|
|
why. Deanna and the doctor stepped off the platform. She followed them,
|
|
turning the past hour's events over in her mind. She had been certain she had
|
|
done the right thing, now suddenly she was not sure. Picard's comment about
|
|
change made sense, yet, the Rua'Shi had changed little since they had come to
|
|
Third Home. At least, the tales made it seem so. Why? What had kept them
|
|
from changing? There had to be something. As they walked, she looked up.
|
|
|
|
__Deanna?__
|
|
|
|
"Yes, Etain?"
|
|
|
|
__Was your mother's world a place of the Shining Ones?__
|
|
|
|
"No, I'm afraid not. We evolved on our own... as far as we know. Anything is
|
|
possible."
|
|
|
|
__What of First Home, what you call Earth? Did the Preservers make that
|
|
world?__
|
|
|
|
_No. They took several seed-cultures from Earth, though. Why do you ask?"
|
|
|
|
__I wondered why we had not changed. We changed a little after Second Home.
|
|
Before that, our leaders were men, and we were not so careful with each other,
|
|
but the changes they brought were small. If we came from First Home, why have
|
|
we not changed as much as they did? Why do we not have ships that sail the
|
|
stars, why do we not have machines that unmake and make us?"
|
|
|
|
Deanna shook her head thoughtfully. "I don't know."
|
|
|
|
Etain frowned. __I think it is because they did not wish us to change. That
|
|
alone explains why. But change is natural. To not change is unnatural.__ her
|
|
troubled expression cleared. __It was right to wait. Do you think I could
|
|
also wait to decide?__
|
|
|
|
Deanna looked puzzled for a moment. "Decide what?"
|
|
|
|
__About the,__ she paused, searching for the word, __...genetic samples.__
|
|
A gentle smile curved her mouth. __As you once said, I do not think I am ready
|
|
yet to become a parent. Especially not to a people. There is much I must
|
|
learn first.__
|
|
|
|
Deanna smiled back. __I understand, and I think you have made a wise
|
|
decision.__
|
|
|
|
__Thank you.__ she frowned slightly, and turned to the doctor. __I will not
|
|
need your help now. I have decided to keep them. Generations of myself have
|
|
worn them, and perhaps someday I will need them. For now, they know not to use
|
|
me without my permission, and will not do so again. Perhaps their presence
|
|
will help me deal with my fears.__
|
|
|
|
"You're sure?" Beverly asked gently. "Removing them would be a simple
|
|
procedure, painless."
|
|
|
|
Etain nodded. __I do not fear the pain, I just feel it would be best this
|
|
way.__
|
|
|
|
"As you wish, but if you have any problems, or just change your mind, I'm
|
|
available."
|
|
|
|
__I will remember. May I go to my quarters now?__
|
|
|
|
The doctor nodded. "I don't see why not." She indicated a side-passage and
|
|
pointed down it. "Sickbay's right there. I'm almost always there, or
|
|
reachable."
|
|
|
|
__Thank you.__
|
|
|
|
"Anytime." She turned and headed the way she had pointed. Etain watched her
|
|
for a moment, then glanced at the counselor, who was studying her with a slight
|
|
frown on her face.
|
|
|
|
__Is something wrong, Deanna?__
|
|
|
|
__You tell me. You've been through a lot, but you seem to be coping. Is that
|
|
real, or just on the surface?__
|
|
|
|
__To be honest, I am not sure. So much has changed, and will change. I would
|
|
like for it to stop, if just for a little while, so I can catch my breath. I
|
|
think I am a little afraid.__
|
|
|
|
__Of?__ Deanna prompted.
|
|
|
|
__Myself. The future, as well as the past. There is so much to fear, but
|
|
perhaps more to excite. I need time to absorb it all, to deal with it.__
|
|
|
|
__Yes, you do. And I think I know the ideal place for you to do that.__ The
|
|
counselor's bright gaze dropped, and she surveyed her hands with unaccustomed
|
|
interest. Etain sensed she was uncomfortable, but not why. After a moment,
|
|
she went on.
|
|
|
|
__I hope you won't object, but I've made arrangements for you to stay on
|
|
Betazed for a while, as long as you want. With my mother.__
|
|
|
|
Etain was momentarily stunned, and stared at the other woman, openmouthed.
|
|
Finally she found words. __Why? What have I done that deserves such
|
|
generosity?__
|
|
|
|
Deanna's discomfort grew, along with a rueful smile. __If I were you, I'd
|
|
reserve judgement. You haven't met my mother.__
|
|
|
|
__No, but I have met you. The child reflects the parent.__
|
|
|
|
The smile became a chuckle. Etain sensed a curious mixture of love and
|
|
exasperation from the dark-eyed woman opposite her. __Not always, Etain, not
|
|
always. My mother is... unique. You'll see, when you meet her, she's on her
|
|
way here now to meet you.__
|
|
|
|
__Now? You are sure?__
|
|
|
|
__Very. But please remember, you are not obligated to stay with her. We can,
|
|
I'm sure, make other arrangements. I felt that Betazed would be a good place
|
|
for you, since most of its inhabitants are telepathic. My mother has plenty of
|
|
room, and she enjoys company. It seemed a workable solution to your dilemma.__
|
|
|
|
Etain shook her head in disbelief. __You offer me more than a place to live.
|
|
You offer me your own family! How could I refuse? Why would I?__
|
|
|
|
__You haven't met my mother yet. As I said, remember you always have other
|
|
options.__
|
|
|
|
Etain regarded her dubiously. Surely her mother couldn't be that bad. __I
|
|
will remember. Will you come with me, and tell me about Betazed? It would be
|
|
good to know what to expect,__ she shivered involuntarily, __...and I do not
|
|
really want to be alone right now.__
|
|
|
|
__I would enjoy that, but let's go to Ten-Forward, instead of your quarters.__
|
|
|
|
__What is Ten-Forward?__
|
|
|
|
__You'll see.__
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Deanna led her to a pair of wide doors inset with clear ovals which bore the
|
|
same symbol all the Enterprise folk wore on their breasts. Etain's curiosity
|
|
had all her senses alert as they neared their destination. The first thing she
|
|
discerned was an overall feeling of well-being, even pleasure, from many
|
|
different sources. She also felt Guinan's presence, like a sleeping-fur, warm
|
|
and comforting. As the doors slid open to admit them, her nostrils flared as
|
|
she inhaled the myriad aromas. Living beings, plants, food, drink... her eyes
|
|
widened, was that ale she smelled? It had been eons since she had smelled that
|
|
particular fragrance. The combination was not unpleasant, and had a singularly
|
|
intimate quality to it that reminded her of festival times. Nearly everyone in
|
|
the large room was smiling. Even the huge transparent walls which spilled the
|
|
light of a thousand suns into the room failed to intimidate her in this
|
|
atmosphere. She turned to Deanna, delighted.
|
|
|
|
__What is this place?__
|
|
|
|
__This is Guinan's domain. A place to rest, relax, and indulge. It's one of
|
|
my favorite places, especially when I don't want to be alone. I see Wes
|
|
Crusher over there, and I know he wanted to meet you.__
|
|
|
|
Etain was startled. __Me? Why?__
|
|
|
|
Deanna laughed. __I think you'll figure that out for yourself. Come on.__
|
|
|
|
She let herself be led over to a table near the far end of the room. A slim,
|
|
ash-brown-haired young man sat there, so intent on a small device he held that
|
|
Deanna had to speak to him twice to gain his attention. He looked up, a slight
|
|
flush washing across his cheekbones.
|
|
|
|
"Deanna, sorry, I didn't hear you. I was just..." his voice trailed off as
|
|
he noticed Etain. He closed his mouth, and darted a swift, uncomfortable
|
|
glance at the counselor who smiled brightly.
|
|
|
|
"Wes, this is Etain. Etain, Wesley Crusher."
|
|
|
|
Etain put out her hand, palm-up and lifted. He hesitated a moment, then met
|
|
her hand with his. As his hand touched hers, not only could she sense his
|
|
interest, but she felt a shock of precognition. Something about this young man
|
|
was far from usual. She could not sense why, or what it was that made, or
|
|
would make, him important, she just knew that he was. Vaguely she recalled
|
|
seeing him before, on the Bridge. His name registered suddenly. Crusher, like
|
|
the doctor's. She studied him more closely, but saw no strong resemblance,
|
|
other than a certain delicacy of build.
|
|
|
|
__You are related to the Doctor?__ she asked, hoping her thought-touch
|
|
wouldn't startle him too much.
|
|
|
|
He stiffened, and once again his eyes slid toward the counselor, a clear
|
|
question in his gaze. She chuckled.
|
|
|
|
"Relax, Wes. Yes she's a telepath, and a very good one, but she's using it on
|
|
a conversational level only. She can't hear anything you don't want her to
|
|
hear. I know it feels odd at first, but I think you'll get used to it. Just
|
|
answer her aloud, as you would in any conversation."
|
|
|
|
He nodded and looked back at Etain, a lopsided smile lighting his rather
|
|
serious face. "I didn't mean to be rude, but you startled me. Yes, Doctor
|
|
Crusher's my mom."
|
|
|
|
__I wondered, since you share part of her name.__ she paused a moment,
|
|
searching for something to say. Inspiration came in the form of a question.
|
|
__I remember you, from the Bridge. I do not understand why they call it that,
|
|
it does not look like a bridge to me.__
|
|
|
|
He grinned. "No, it doesn't, does it? It refers to a time when the bridge of
|
|
a sailing ship was a small platform that extended over the main deck. Back
|
|
then it did look like a little like a bridge."
|
|
|
|
Etain smiled back, his friendliness an antidote for the grief she didn't want
|
|
to think about. __Thank you, now it makes more sense. What is that?__
|
|
|
|
She pointed to the device he had been so intent on. He looked down at it, and
|
|
frowned a little.
|
|
|
|
"I'm not sure you'd understand, it's pretty technical."
|
|
|
|
She smiled ruefully. __You're probably right. I know little that is...
|
|
technical. Perhaps you could help me to understand some of this?__ she
|
|
gestured around, at the room, at the gleaming surface that separated them from
|
|
space. __I know from the tales of the time of the Shining Ones that to go out
|
|
there would mean death, how do you keep it out there, and us here?__
|
|
|
|
Wesley's expression was one of pure joy. Etain sensed the smile Deanna hid
|
|
behind her hand as she pretended to rub at her nose. She was obviously pleased
|
|
with something. Silently Etain queried her.
|
|
|
|
__What amuses you?__
|
|
|
|
__You couldn't have chosen a better thing to ask if I'd prompted you! Wes was
|
|
born to teach; he loves to explain things. If he can't explain something, he
|
|
studies it until he can. I think...__
|
|
|
|
Whatever it was she had thought was interrupted by Worf's resonant voice
|
|
issuing from the air.
|
|
|
|
"Counselor Troi, to the bridge."
|
|
|
|
She sighed. "Will you be alright if I leave you in Wesley's care? I have to
|
|
go now, but I'll be back as soon as I can.__
|
|
|
|
For just a moment Etain felt a sharp splinter of fear twist inside her. She did
|
|
not want to be alone with a male she didn't know. Then she looked at the open,
|
|
interested face of the young man across from her and knew he would not harm
|
|
her. Picard had told her that no one on his ship would touch her unasked, and
|
|
she knew he was right. They were very different people from those who had
|
|
hurt her. Looking up at Deanna, she nodded.
|
|
|
|
__Yes, I will. Thank you.__
|
|
|
|
The counselor's dark gaze lingered a moment. She had caught that moment of
|
|
fear. __Are you sure?__ she asked, probingly.
|
|
|
|
Etain nodded. __I am sure.__
|
|
|
|
Deanna smiled. __Good. I am glad.__
|
|
|
|
__So am I.__ Etain echoed, returning her attention to Wesley.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Davan checked his scratch-built transponder, making certain it was set
|
|
correctly. It would ensure that to sensors, as well as to prying eyes, his
|
|
small shuttle would pass as a common ferry. No one would think twice about
|
|
granting him clearance for takeoff. Just to be certain, guessing that Jaron
|
|
had a voice-scanner checking all clearance request, he had also installed a
|
|
modulator to disguise his voice. He wasn't going to bear the brunt of the
|
|
investigation alone. He knew he had little chance of escaping. His jury-
|
|
rigged transponder might get him past Spaceport security, but only because he
|
|
had designed the system it needed to fool. He wasn't stupid enough to think
|
|
he would be able to deceive the Enterprise's more refined sensors, no doubt
|
|
they would catch the signal doubling caused by his modifications. It made no
|
|
difference, since the Enterprise was his destination in any case. All he had
|
|
to do was get there in one piece. He keyed in the ignition sequence, and
|
|
opened a com channel.
|
|
|
|
"Terrestria Port, this is the Cantal Mahar, requesting permission to depart,
|
|
following previously filed flight-plan."
|
|
|
|
There was a moment of delay before Terrestria answered. Not unusual. The
|
|
voice over the speaker sounded bored.
|
|
|
|
"Cantal Mahar, clearance granted. Please lock your controls into Terrestria
|
|
Guidance's signal."
|
|
|
|
He took a deep breath, and gave his controls over to the guidance computer.
|
|
This was it. This was where they would do it, if they suspected him. His hand
|
|
hovered over the cutoff pad, only a slight tremor betraying his fear; ready to
|
|
take control back from Guidance at a second's notice. He would have preferred
|
|
to guide the ship himself, but didn't want to risk the suspicion asking for a
|
|
manual liftoff would generate.
|
|
|
|
Slowly the shuttle rose, lifters engaging flawlessly. So far, so good, he
|
|
thought. He felt the ship turn, as it should, and nose up slightly as the main
|
|
engines kicked in. He felt himself pressed back into his seat-cushions for a
|
|
moment before the gravity compensators came on-line, and he scanned the
|
|
monitors, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Nothing. His hand stopped
|
|
shaking. He was almost clear of the outer atmosphere. The voice on the com-
|
|
channel startled him.
|
|
|
|
"Cantal Mahar, please confirm destination."
|
|
|
|
He stiffened. This was not usual procedure. He scowled, wondering if the
|
|
request meant they were specifically curious about him, or if it merely
|
|
indicated a general tightening of security. Schooling his voice to careful
|
|
nonchalance, he thumbed the communicator and replied.
|
|
|
|
"It's on my flight-plan, folks. The good ship 'Enterprise.' I've got a
|
|
shipment of exotic fabrics and non-transporter viable foodstuffs ordered by
|
|
various crewmembers. Is there a problem? I cleared duties on the stuff."
|
|
|
|
There was a long pause before Terrestria replied. Long enough to restart the
|
|
tremor in his hand, though the ship still moved as it should.
|
|
|
|
"Confirmed, Cantal Mahar. Have a nice ride."
|
|
|
|
Was he imagining a hint of sarcasm in those words? His hand moved a centimeter
|
|
closer to the pad. The ship cleared atmosphere, and the com signaled him again.
|
|
|
|
"You're on your own now, we're finished with you."
|
|
|
|
He stiffened. He would recognize Jaron's voice anywhere! His hand slammed
|
|
down onto the release key only seconds after the ship gave a sudden lurch, and
|
|
began to nose downward.
|
|
|
|
Swearing, he managed to level it out with only a little hull-scorching and
|
|
pointed it toward the Enterprise before pushing the little craft to its maximum
|
|
impulse speed, knowing they'd be on his tail with some credible reason to
|
|
destroy him within seconds. Frantically he resorted to his alternate plan.
|
|
|
|
"Enterprise, this is Davan Delvekia, I'm on my way, and I need sanctuary."
|
|
|
|
"This is Enterprise." a low, resonant voice returned almost instantly. He
|
|
knew it well. The Klingon. "Stand away. Do not approach."
|
|
|
|
"Damn it, Enterprise! They'll rip me to shreds! I have no weapons and only
|
|
minimal shields! I have to see Watcher Sho! I have information she needs!"
|
|
|
|
Eyes on the fast-approaching blips on his screen, he didn't care who heard him.
|
|
It didn't matter anymore. What mattered was staying alive. He'd been a boy
|
|
when Coran and Jaron had exterminated the Halflings. There was no way they
|
|
could pin it on him. The only thing he was guilty of was following Coran's
|
|
orders for the past ten years .
|
|
|
|
A different voice responded to his second request, different, but no less
|
|
familiar. He smiled grimly. He had suspected they had recovered Picard, but
|
|
hadn't been able to confirm it without access to his usual network of
|
|
intelligence.
|
|
|
|
"Davan Delvekia, this is Captain Jean-Luc Picard. Approach to one-hundred
|
|
meters and hold there. We will provide shields."
|
|
|
|
He maneuvered his little craft into the silver giantess' shadow. He watched on
|
|
the monitor as Enterprise's shields sprang to life, with him inside their
|
|
protective bubble. The pursuing craft peeled away from the barrier moments
|
|
before they would have impacted. Only then did he allow himself the luxury of
|
|
relief.
|
|
|
|
He put the ship at station-keeping and waited. No doubt they would want to
|
|
scan him for potential threat, and do a little checking on his background. Not
|
|
to mention dealing with the aroused hornet's nest of ships still waiting for
|
|
him just outside the great ship's shields. He turned his comunit to Security
|
|
frequencies and listened in as his own second ordered the Enterprise to
|
|
surrender him. He waited with them for the reply, which wasn't long coming.
|
|
Picard's reply sounded faintly amused.
|
|
|
|
"I'm sorry, Captain al-Qadri, but I cannot do that, at least not until I have
|
|
reviewed his request for sanctuary. He has offered no hostility toward us, and
|
|
it is against precedent to refuse such a request out of hand. I will let you
|
|
know when we have made a decision."
|
|
|
|
Davan silently blessed Khalid's loyalty, knowing the pilot should have been
|
|
able to catch the Cantal Mahar before it had reached the Enterprise. He
|
|
strongly suspected that the only reason he was still alive was that Khalid had
|
|
refused to destroy his former commander. It was a shame, for Davan had no
|
|
doubt the young man would pay for that 'failure,' unless they arrested Jaron
|
|
first. Thankfully Khalid had no family for Jaron to strike through. Picard's
|
|
next words commanded his full attention.
|
|
|
|
"Captain al-Qadri, you state that the man is a criminal, but do not list his
|
|
crime. Of what is he accused?"
|
|
|
|
The voice which replied was not Khalid's, but Jaron's. He must have been
|
|
monitoring communications from the surface.
|
|
|
|
"This is Jaron Kelssohn, Captain Picard. We suspect that Davan instigated the
|
|
recent series of terrorist attacks, including the attempt made on you."
|
|
|
|
There was a moment's pause before Picard replied. When he did, his tone was
|
|
even drier than before.
|
|
|
|
"I see. Thank you, Guide Kelssohn. That is quite interesting. Doesn't it
|
|
seem a little odd to you that a man accused of plotting to kill me would then
|
|
request sanctuary of me?"
|
|
|
|
"Not if he intends to complete his mission once aboard your ship."
|
|
|
|
"My security chief assures me there is little in the way of weaponry aboard his
|
|
craft."
|
|
|
|
A slight edge crept into Jaron's tone of hearty concern. Davan wished he had
|
|
visual.
|
|
|
|
"Davan Delvekia is expert in several martial arts. He has no need of weapons."
|
|
|
|
Davan chuckled, Jaron was laying it on a bit thick. He definitely heard
|
|
amusement in Picard's voice this time.
|
|
|
|
"I'll keep that in mind, Guide Kelssohn. Now, if you will excuse me..."
|
|
|
|
"You're going to take him?" Kelssohn interrupted, obviously dismayed.
|
|
|
|
"I am going to consider his request, and to do so, I prefer to speak with him
|
|
face-to-face. I'm sure you understand."
|
|
|
|
"Of course." Kelssohn had his vocal mask back in place, sounding as if he
|
|
weren't terribly concerned by Picard's decision. Davan grinned mirthlessly.
|
|
Served him right.
|
|
|
|
"Enterprise to Cantal Mahar."
|
|
|
|
The Klingon's voice again. Something in his tone made Davan sit up straighter
|
|
as he answered. "Cantal Mahar."
|
|
|
|
"This is Lieutenant Worf, Enterprise Security. We will beam you aboard, but
|
|
you understand we must search you and your vessel for weapons and restricted
|
|
items. To do this requires your permission."
|
|
|
|
Davan stiffened, his eyes drawn irresistably toward the rear of the ship.
|
|
After a moment, he gritted his teeth and answered. "Understood, Lieutenant
|
|
Worf. Search away."
|
|
|
|
"Stand by to transport."
|
|
|
|
"Thank you, Enterprise. Standing by."
|
|
|
|
He got to his feet and waited for the peculiar sensation caused by the
|
|
molecular transporter. He felt it begin, saw the walls of his ship fade like a
|
|
chalk-drawing in the rain, and sighed. He was almost home free.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Picard looked away from the screen to Counselor Troi, who had taken her
|
|
accustomed place at his left hand a few moments earlier.
|
|
|
|
"Well, counselor. How did you read that little exchange?"
|
|
|
|
She frowned thoughtfully for a moment, then shook her head. "It's hard to say.
|
|
The whole thing was very confusing. Both of them are lying, or hiding
|
|
something, both of them were angry, and frightened; yet I sensed a certain
|
|
amount of humor from Davan Delvekia that was definitely not present in Jaron
|
|
Kelssohn. I can't help but wonder what he found humorous."
|
|
|
|
A gleam of amusement lit Picard's eyes. "I rather suspect it was the same
|
|
thing I found humorous. Jaron Kelssohn cannot possibly have believed I would
|
|
find any sort of real threat in his recitation of Delvekia's ostensible martial
|
|
arts prowess. Perhaps if he and I were to be alone I might be a little
|
|
apprehensive, but the man will be surrounded by security, a virtual prisoner!
|
|
It seemed a slightly desperate ploy."
|
|
|
|
Deanna nodded. "Yes. Desperate is exactly how I would describe him. He had
|
|
that feeling about him."
|
|
|
|
"And Delvekia?"
|
|
|
|
"At first, yes, when he thought we were not going to shield him, but that faded
|
|
almost immediately. I don't mean to say he's acting in complete altruism, or
|
|
that he is completely safe, but I believe he means what he says."
|
|
|
|
"We'll find out, won't we?" he stood abruptly. "Mr. Worf, check him
|
|
thoroughly for weapons, and hold him in 'protective' custody in the brig." As
|
|
the Klingon nodded and strode toward the turbolift, Picard turned to Deanna.
|
|
|
|
"Will you accompany me? I suspect we will need your abilities. I will ask
|
|
Watcher Sho to join us as well."
|
|
|
|
"And Etain?" Deanna queried. "Shouldn't she be there?"
|
|
|
|
Picard hesitated a moment, then shook his head. "No. If we find we need to
|
|
bring her in, we can, but I don't see that her presence is necessary, and what
|
|
Delvekia has to say could prove traumatic for her. I think she's had enough of
|
|
that of late. Number One, you have the conn."
|
|
|
|
Deanna glanced at Will Riker as she moved to accompany Picard, her expression
|
|
sympathetic. If Picard noticed Riker's grimace of annoyance at being left out,
|
|
it didn't show.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
______________________________________________________________________________
|
|
copyright 1992, Kellie Matthews-Simmons
|
|
matthews_k@cubldr.colorado.edu//matthewk@spot.colorado.edu
|
|
all rights reserved
|
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|
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Standard Disclaimers Apply
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Status: O
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From: JULIA@Jetson.UH.EDU
|
|
To: jfy@cis.ksu.edu
|
|
Subject: (TNG) Silence, A Novel by Kellie Matthews-Simmons, Part 13
|
|
Date: Tue, 31 Aug 1993 12:46:05 -0500 (CDT)
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|
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CHAPTER THIRTEEN
|
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|
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Davan was only a little worried when Worf escorted him not to the bridge, but
|
|
to the brig. It made sense, considering the circumstances, though he was used
|
|
to better treatment. He would have to get used to being on the receiving end
|
|
of security for a change. He accepted the spartan bareness of the cell with
|
|
equanimity and waited for Picard and Kadin Sho to appear. When they did,
|
|
another woman was with them. Not the Halfling, but a voluptuous dark-haired,
|
|
dark-eyed woman. Though her form-fitting azure dress was not a uniform, she
|
|
wore a Star Fleet combadge at her shoulder. His eyes narrowed as he studied her
|
|
more closely, realizing that her dark-in-dark eyes were the hallmark of a
|
|
Betazoid. So much for lying. Well, he hadn't planned to do much of that in
|
|
any case. He would just have to steer the conversation away from sensitive
|
|
areas.
|
|
|
|
He stood politely, and nodded as Picard introduced first himself, then Watcher
|
|
Sho and Counselor Deanna Troi. He wondered for a moment what it would be like
|
|
to have a beautiful woman in a position as intimate as that of Ships' Counselor.
|
|
Especially a beautiful woman who was an empath. After a moment he realized
|
|
the empathic part probably put a very effective block on the sort of things he
|
|
was thinking. Worf stood in the background, arms crossed on his chest, face
|
|
fixed in a perpetual scowl. His presence brought Davan's wandering thoughts
|
|
back to the subject at hand as effectively as Picard's question.
|
|
|
|
"So, Captain Delvekia. You said you had something you wished to tell Watcher
|
|
Sho. She is here, you are here..." he let the sentence trail off, prompting
|
|
a reply.
|
|
|
|
Davan nodded. "Yes, I do. I have information that bears directly on her
|
|
current investigation. But I'll be honest with you, I want something for it."
|
|
|
|
Picard smiled drily. "I rather imagined you did."
|
|
|
|
Watcher Sho took a step forward, her shoulders stiff, face frozen in an arrogant
|
|
frown almost as intimidating as the Klingon's. "The Federation does not buy
|
|
information, Ser Delvekia. especially information of dubious value. We know
|
|
that you were involved in the recent attempt on Captain Picard's life, an attack
|
|
which deliberately or not cost a woman her life. We suspect, but have not yet
|
|
proven, that you were also a party to the destruction of the handful that
|
|
remained of Halvam's native population, the Rua'Shi."
|
|
|
|
"No! I had nothing to do with that! It was Coran, alone. I'd have stopped
|
|
him, if I had known. I'd have stopped a lot of what he did, if I could have."
|
|
|
|
Both Picard and the Watcher looked at the Counselor, who nodded minutely.
|
|
"He is telling the truth..."
|
|
|
|
Davan almost smiled, but the urge faded as she continued.
|
|
|
|
"...as far as it goes. There were some things he would have stopped his
|
|
brother from doing. We do not know what those things were."
|
|
|
|
"Thank you, Counselor." Watcher Sho said softly, then returned her gaze to
|
|
Davan. "Continue, Ser Delvekia. What do you have that is worth my lowering
|
|
myself to bargain for?"
|
|
|
|
Davan took a deep breath, trying to calm the nervous surge of acid in his
|
|
stomach.
|
|
|
|
"You want information on how the Halflings were destroyed, and by whom. I know
|
|
those things, but under Federation law you cannot force me to testify. It has
|
|
to be voluntary. I'll volunteer in exchange for a little leniency on certain
|
|
things.
|
|
|
|
Picard and the Watcher exchanged glances. Davan wondered what that
|
|
exchange meant. The Watcher's icy blue-white gaze focused on him, bringing a
|
|
slight shiver to his back.
|
|
|
|
"What kind of leniency?" she asked flatly.
|
|
|
|
He didn't hesitate. He knew what he needed. "I know you plan to charge me,
|
|
it's inevitable. I will plead to complicity after the fact, and that's all."
|
|
|
|
If possible, her eyes became even colder. "I see. You were 'taken in' by your
|
|
brother, made a... a..."
|
|
|
|
"A dupe." Picard supplied the archaic word. "You expect us to believe that?"
|
|
|
|
Davan shook his head. "No. Of course not. But I expect you to charge me with
|
|
such, or no testimony. And without it, you'll never be able to put together a
|
|
case that will convict the only living person who was co-responsible for the
|
|
massacre. You'll have a solid case against my deceased brother, against Seret
|
|
Ng, and various other Halvami public servants of twenty-five years ago, most
|
|
deceased; but not against him. He covers his tracks well."
|
|
|
|
"How old are you?" The Watcher asked, out of the blue. Davan blinked, then
|
|
answered.
|
|
|
|
"Thirty-six, why?"
|
|
|
|
She merely nodded, and didn't answer.
|
|
|
|
He scowled, and repeated his question more forcefully. "Why?"
|
|
|
|
Picard pinned him to the wall with a look. He began to respect the stories he
|
|
had heard about the man and dismissed as hyperbole. He looked down. "Sorry."
|
|
|
|
Picard didn't acknowledge the apology, but looked away, at the Watcher.
|
|
|
|
"So, Watcher Sho?"
|
|
|
|
"I need time to Watch, Captain Picard. A half hour, perhaps a little more. I
|
|
will let you know then."
|
|
|
|
Picard nodded, and the trio turned to leave. Davan resisted the urge to demand
|
|
an instant decision. He was in no position to make demands.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Outside the brig, Watcher Sho stopped, shaking her head, a frustrated grimace on
|
|
her face. "There is something missing, some important element not found. I do
|
|
not believe the man in your brig was involved in the original crime, since he
|
|
was only ten or eleven when it was carried out; although his actions since then
|
|
are certainly suspect. How can he give effective testimony? He must know his
|
|
character is not unassailable, and his testimony would be hearsay, and thus
|
|
inapplicable. It does not make sense that he would ask for a bargain with us
|
|
based on so little. He must have something, some evidence, which supports his
|
|
claims."
|
|
|
|
Picard nodded, eyes distant. "Yes, of course, that does stand to reason. And
|
|
since he must have anticipated that he would not be allowed to return to Halvam,
|
|
it's a safe guess that whatever it is, he brought it with him." He wheeled
|
|
around to look at Worf. "Lieutenant Worf, when Delvekia was beamed aboard,
|
|
was he carrying anything?"
|
|
|
|
"No sir. I searched him myself, thoroughly, he came aboard with only his
|
|
clothing."
|
|
|
|
"Damn, then it has to be on his ship."
|
|
|
|
Worf nodded. "I planned to search the vessel as soon as your interview with
|
|
Delvekia was finished. I will pay particular attention to anything which might
|
|
be considered evidence."
|
|
|
|
"Thank you, Mr. Worf, make it so."
|
|
|
|
Worf nodded and strode purposefully off down the corridor. The Watcher gazed
|
|
after him, her expression hopeful.
|
|
|
|
"May the Eight Eyes aid his search."
|
|
|
|
Picard didn't recognize her reference, but concurred with the sentiment.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Deanna was halfway back to Ten Forward from the brig when she was paged
|
|
again, this time by Riker. She stopped, sighed, and touched her combadge.
|
|
|
|
"Troi here."
|
|
|
|
"Deanna, we just received a communication from your mother. She was a bit put
|
|
out that you weren't available, but she said to tell you she'd be here in about
|
|
an hour."
|
|
|
|
"An hour!" Deanna exclaimed, taken by surprise. "What did she do, flag down a
|
|
racing yacht?"
|
|
|
|
There was a moment of silence, then a chuckle. "Deanna, sometimes you amaze
|
|
me. As a matter of fact, that's exactly what she did. Actually, she played
|
|
ship-tag for a while, transferring from one vessel to another until she found
|
|
one going this direction at a speed she approved of. She's quite a
|
|
resourceful woman."
|
|
|
|
"Tell me about it," she acknowledged sourly. "Well, thank's for the warning.
|
|
If you need me, I'll be in Ten-Forward."
|
|
|
|
"Need a little fortification before facing the dragon?" he queried with
|
|
amusement.
|
|
|
|
"That wasn't my intention, but it's not a bad idea. Troi out."
|
|
|
|
She stood for a moment, mastering her apprehension. She had done the right
|
|
thing, she knew it, Guinan and Picard agreed with her, so why was she so
|
|
nervous? She thought about it, and realized that a good deal of her
|
|
apprehension stemmed more from her own strained relations with her mother than
|
|
from any worry about how Etain might interact with her. That realization
|
|
lightened her mood considerably.
|
|
|
|
To her surprise, upon entering Ten-Forwad she found that neither Wesley
|
|
Crusher or Etain were anywhere to be seen. She turned to the bar to ask Guinan
|
|
where they had gone, and found Marekur there instead. She asked him anyway,
|
|
and he shrugged, expressing his regret that he did not know where they had
|
|
gone. She circled the room once, hoping she had just overlooked them, but the
|
|
effort only confirmed her earlier impression. She frowned, wondering where
|
|
Wes would have taken Etain. It would be like him to want to show off his
|
|
favorite parts of the ship, so either main engineering, or the engineering labs
|
|
were likely spots.
|
|
|
|
"Counselor Troi?"
|
|
|
|
She looked around, startled, to find Miles O'Brien at her elbow, a large mug of
|
|
amber-colored liquid in one broad hand, the other waving toward the table
|
|
where she had left Wesley and Etain.
|
|
|
|
"Were you looking for Wes Crusher, and the Faerie-girl?"
|
|
|
|
She blinked, puzzled. "Faerie?"
|
|
|
|
He grinned. "Aye, faerie, elf, you know, the little red-head with the pointed
|
|
ears."
|
|
|
|
"Etain. Yes. But she's not a faerie, she's... well, her people called
|
|
themselves the Rua'Shi."
|
|
|
|
His expression went very odd, and he said something in a language she didn't
|
|
understand, though part of what he said sounded very much like Rua'Shi. She
|
|
shook her head.
|
|
|
|
"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that.
|
|
|
|
"No, you wouldn't." His accent seemed suddenly more noticeable. "Did you
|
|
know, Counselor, that in the Gaelic, my mother tongue, the little folk are
|
|
called the sidhe? And that the word for red is ruadh? Strange, isn't it?
|
|
Perhaps faerie isn't so far off. In any case, the two of them and Guinan went
|
|
off together, I think they were headed for the engineering labs."
|
|
|
|
"Thank you very much, Mr. O'Brien. You should mention that word correspondence
|
|
to the Captain, or to Data. I think they would be very interested, as they've
|
|
postulated that at least some of the Rua'Shi's ancestors may have come from
|
|
Earth."
|
|
|
|
"I'll do that, counselor." His gaze ranged past her to someone just entering
|
|
the room, and his face lit in a wide smile.
|
|
|
|
Deanna sensed a surprising depth of emotion from him, and turned to see who it
|
|
was he'd smiled at. Two women had entered the room together, she recognised
|
|
them as technicians from the botany section. One was a leggy blonde named
|
|
Torla, the other a petite woman with straight, black hair and asian features.
|
|
Keiko, if she had the name right. She wondered briefly which of them the smile
|
|
was meant for, and excused herself to go in search of her stray friends.
|
|
O'Brien didn't seem to notice.
|
|
|
|
Outside Ten-Forward, Deanna stopped at a companel and queried Wes Crusher's
|
|
wherabouts. She had been right. He was in the engineering lab, no doubt with
|
|
Etain. She hoped he was tempering his pedagogical tendencies, for Etain's
|
|
sake. She'd had to absorb more new things in the past few days than most
|
|
people learned in a year.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
The engineering lab was nearly deserted, only a few people working on projects,
|
|
most of them casting curious glances toward the trio that sat in the far corner
|
|
of the room. Etain and Wesley faced each other across a table, Guinan sat next
|
|
to Etain, her expression faintly bemused. Etain had one hand on Wesley's face,
|
|
fingers positioned in a disturbingly familiar manner, both of them had their
|
|
eyes closed. Deanna stiffened, then glared at Guinan.
|
|
|
|
__What is going on here?__ She demanded, sub-vocally, hurrying across to
|
|
hover beside the tableaux, distressed.
|
|
|
|
Guinan looked up at her curiously, completely undisturbed.
|
|
__An experiment.__
|
|
|
|
__What kind of experiment?__
|
|
|
|
__An experiment in learning. Etain mentioned that the machine had tried to
|
|
feed information directly into her mind, but that she had refused it, because
|
|
it was under duress. Wesley got all excited about the potential for direct
|
|
transference of learning via telepathic contact, and insisted they try it.
|
|
It's harmless, Deanna, calm down.__
|
|
|
|
__Calm down? Beverly will skin me alive if anything happens!__
|
|
|
|
__Nothing's going to happen, believe me, except that Etain may learn a lot more
|
|
about physics than she really wanted to know. I've been monitoring, there's
|
|
nothing to worry about.__
|
|
|
|
Deanna concentrated hard, but sensed no disturbance from either of the two
|
|
experimenters. She relaxed a little, only slightly mollified. __I still don't
|
|
think it was a very good idea.__
|
|
|
|
__Would you rather I had let them run off and try it by themselves? You know
|
|
how Wesley gets when he has a theory to test.__
|
|
|
|
Deanna smiled a little, and answered verbally, low-voiced. "Yes, I do, at that.
|
|
Is it working?"
|
|
|
|
"It's hard to say. We'll have to wait and ask when they're through."
|
|
|
|
"How long have they been at it?"
|
|
|
|
"Not long, about ten minutes. I suspect they're about ready to stop."
|
|
|
|
Deanna studied the two again, shaking her head. "If it does work, it seems
|
|
like cheating, somehow."
|
|
|
|
Guinan eyed her with an expression of disappointment. "Does everything have
|
|
to be learned the hard way? Does it really matter how knowledge is gained, as
|
|
long as it is gained?"
|
|
|
|
Deanna considered that for a moment, and nodded thoughtfully. "I suppose you're
|
|
right. I guess it's my own prejudice showing. If I had to learn things the
|
|
hard way, everyone else should too, right?"
|
|
|
|
Guinan correctly interpreted her question as rhetorical, and didn't answer.
|
|
Movement drew Deanna's attention as Etain let her hand fall and sat back,
|
|
rubbing her eyes. Wesley opened his eyes, stretched, and yawned. Guinan
|
|
looked expectantly from one to the other.
|
|
|
|
"Well?" she hinted.
|
|
|
|
Wesley looked at Etain, equally curious. She smiled brilliantly, reached for a
|
|
datapadd that lay unused on the desk and touched several keys before turning
|
|
the pad around so Wes could see it. He looked, then grinned.
|
|
|
|
"It does work!"
|
|
|
|
Deanna leaned over to look, expecting some arcane equation or other. What
|
|
glowed on the small dark screen was not mathmatical symbols, but letters.
|
|
Etain had written the words: 'Etain thanks you'. For a moment Deanna was
|
|
puzzled, then it hit her. Etain had not been able to read or write. Wes had
|
|
taught her something far more immediately useful than physics. He had given
|
|
her the ability to communicate.
|
|
|
|
Without warning, Etain leaned across the table and kissed a very startled Wes
|
|
Crusher, who promptly proceeded to turn the same shade as his uniform. After
|
|
a moment Wes recovered his equanimity and smiled, a little shyly, clearing his
|
|
throat.
|
|
|
|
"You're welcome." he muttered, glancing around as if to see if anyone had been
|
|
watching. When he realized that several people had indeed been watching, his
|
|
color heightened again, though less noticeably than before, and a hint of a
|
|
smile lurked around the corners of his mouth.
|
|
|
|
Deanna was no less startled by Etain's gesture than Wesley had been. For Etain
|
|
to voluntarily express herself in such a manner was an immense step forward.
|
|
Just a day earlier, she had flinched from even accidental touches. Perhaps she
|
|
was dealing with things as well as it seemed on the surface. She decided to
|
|
forgo the admonition she'd been about to deliver about misusing telepathy. It
|
|
was clearly irrelevant. Etain studied her quizzically for a moment, then
|
|
'spoke.'
|
|
|
|
__You seem disturbed, is something wrong?__
|
|
|
|
Deanna summoned a smile and shook her head, wishing Etain would stop stealing
|
|
her lines. __No, nothing. I just came to tell you that my mother will be
|
|
arriving soon.__
|
|
|
|
__Soon?__ Etain asked, surprised. __I thought it took many days to travel
|
|
here from Betazed.__
|
|
|
|
Deanna laughed wryly. __For most people yes. Mother's very resourceful." Her
|
|
words evoked her earlier conversation with Will Riker. She realized her
|
|
'Lwaxana tolerance levels' were dangerously low. Not good. She needed time to
|
|
calm down and prepare herself for the whirlwind that was her mother. Not that
|
|
she was going to get it. She was going into this meeting more frazzled than
|
|
she cared to.
|
|
|
|
"Would you like to go discuss Betazed now, as we had planned to earlier?" she
|
|
asked Etain brightly.
|
|
|
|
Etain regarded her searchingly for a moment, then shook her head. __No. I am
|
|
a little tired. If you don't mind, I will go to my quarters and rest. I think
|
|
that would be best.__
|
|
|
|
Through her relief, Deanna wondered if she'd just been outmaneuvered. She was
|
|
quite certain that Etain had sensed her turmoil and deliberately opted to give
|
|
her time to deal with it. She would make a fine counselor, some day, if she
|
|
chose that path. "You're probably right. I'll walk you back, if you like."
|
|
|
|
Wesley's face fell. Etain, though she wasn't looking at him, must have sensed
|
|
it, for she shook her head.
|
|
|
|
__No, Wesley has already volunteered to escort me. I will go with him.__
|
|
|
|
Deanna nodded, biting the inside of her cheek to govern her smile, knowing it
|
|
would wreak havoc on the young man's confidence if she allowed it to escape
|
|
her control. She wondered if Etain's manner toward Wes indicated interest, but
|
|
decided it probably did not. In fact, it probably indicated that she felt he
|
|
was non-threatening. She suspected that was not exactly what Wes wanted her to
|
|
feel. It was a good sign, though, that she had allowed another male into her
|
|
sphere of acceptance. It would ease her dependence on Picard. She watched
|
|
them walk from the room, and turned to Guinan.
|
|
|
|
"Interesting."
|
|
|
|
"Always. Your mother's going to have her hands full."
|
|
|
|
"Yes, she certainly will. Have you ever met my mother, Guinan?"
|
|
|
|
The dark-skinned woman shook her head. "No, I haven't had the privilege. I
|
|
have, however, met a lot of people who have met your mother. It seems no one
|
|
ever forgets meeting her."
|
|
|
|
"That's the truth. I do love her, you know."
|
|
|
|
"Yes. I know. But you've had to work hard to stay out of her shadow, haven't
|
|
you?"
|
|
|
|
Deanna nodded, then smiled, amused. "Counseling the Counselor, Guinan?"
|
|
|
|
"Isn't that what a bartender's for? And as your counselor, I'm telling you
|
|
that you need some time to yourself. Why don't you bring your mother by Ten-
|
|
Forward later, I'll buy her a drink."
|
|
|
|
"I may just do that. I think the two of you should meet."
|
|
|
|
"So do I." Guinan said in her usual enigmatic manner, and left the room.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Even without empathy, Etain would have sensed that nearly everyone in the room
|
|
was apprehensive, it showed in their faces, in their nervous motions, in their
|
|
very scent. Their anxiety reinforced Deanna's descriptions of her mother as
|
|
rather formidable. She recognized the room as the one containing the machine
|
|
that unmade people in one place and then made them again in another. They
|
|
must be planning to use it to bring Deanna's mother aboard. A voice spoke,
|
|
unfamiliar, a man's voice. Stressed.
|
|
|
|
"Enterprise, come in please."
|
|
|
|
"Enterprise here." The man behind the console replied. The unfamiliar man
|
|
spoke again.
|
|
|
|
"Enterprise, this is the Atalanta. Mrs. Troi is ready to beam over." This
|
|
time he sounded relieved.
|
|
|
|
"Acknowledged, Atalanta."
|
|
|
|
The Captain squared his shoulders and nodded to the man behind the console.
|
|
|
|
"Energize, Mr. Hollyfield."
|
|
|
|
The dais shimmered with flecks of manycolored light, moving like sparks in the
|
|
wind. The embers coalesced into two pillar-shapes, and then into beings, a
|
|
woman, and a very tall, pale man with a death's head gauntness. Etain stepped
|
|
back involuntarily, shrinking from the frightening figure. Deanna touched her
|
|
shoulder reassuringly.
|
|
|
|
"That's just Mr. Hom. He's very gentle, you needn't be afraid of him."
|
|
|
|
Only a little comforted, she directed her gaze to the woman who was stepping
|
|
off the dais, imperiously extending her hand to Picard, who had stepped forward
|
|
to assist her.
|
|
|
|
She was dark-haired, and dark-eyed like Deanna, and her figure, though more
|
|
mature, was equally voluptuous. Her shimmering green and gold dress was like
|
|
nothing Etain had ever seen, cut to emphasize its wearer's figure, wildly
|
|
impractical, the bodice and so revealing she might just as well have worn the
|
|
heavy, floor-length skirt alone.- She was a little taller than Deanna, and her
|
|
face was lined with years of smiles.
|
|
|
|
"Jean-Luc!" she exclaimed in a loud, affectionate voice. "How lovely to see
|
|
you again, you dear man."
|
|
|
|
Beside Etain, Deanna winced. Picard's smile was rather rigid as he answered.
|
|
|
|
"It's always a pleasure to welcome you aboard, Mrs. Troi."
|
|
|
|
Etain was shocked to realize he'd just lied, outright. It was the first time
|
|
she had ever known him to lie. Mrs. Troi appeared oblivious to his discomfort
|
|
as she took a step away and surveyed him critically.
|
|
|
|
"Have you put on some weight, Jean-Luc? And what happened to the dress
|
|
uniforms?"
|
|
|
|
Picard's stance stiffened further. "The occasion did not call for dress
|
|
uniforms, Mrs. Troi," he stated firmly, not deigning to answer her other
|
|
question.
|
|
|
|
She sighed loudly. "What a shame. I did like those tights-things, but then,
|
|
they do show every kilo, don't they?"
|
|
|
|
Without waiting for an answer, she eyed Riker in the same analytic fashion,
|
|
made a disappointed 'tchk'-ing sound and turned to Deanna, speaking to her
|
|
daughter telepathically.
|
|
|
|
__Maybe you were right about this one after all, little one. He's not holding
|
|
up well at all. You're looking a bit washed out yourself. And your hair!
|
|
Goodness, child, isn't there a hairdresser on this ship?__
|
|
|
|
Deanna managed to hold onto her temper as she greeted her mother verbally.
|
|
|
|
Etain stared at the newcomer in disbelief. Her rudeness was outrageous! Her
|
|
amazement deepened as she felt the woman send out blatant empathic probes,
|
|
scrutinizing the unsheilded human minds for their responses, without regard for
|
|
privacy. Etain reacted without thought, instinctively. She interposed her
|
|
will between the woman and her friends like a wall of stone, and caught the
|
|
extended probes with her own, like an adult catching the hand of a child caught
|
|
stealing.
|
|
|
|
The woman turned toward her, outrage written large on her expressive face.
|
|
|
|
"How dare you!" she gasped, yanking herself free of Etain's mental hold with
|
|
some difficulty. "Do you know who I am? I am Lwaxana Troi, Daughter of the
|
|
Fifth House, Keeper of the Sacred Chalice of Reiks... who are you?"
|
|
|
|
If Etain hadn't been so angry, she might have been intimidated, but the
|
|
knowledge that she was right gave her nerve.
|
|
|
|
__I am Etain,__ she replied firmly. __And you may be those things, but you are
|
|
also rude! What gives you the right to go unasked into another's mind, or to
|
|
insult and give offense where none was offered you?__
|
|
|
|
Mrs. Troi gaped at her, then closed her mouth and turned to the Captain who
|
|
quickly hid a broad grin behind his hand and a contrived cough. Etain realized
|
|
from his reaction that in her agitation she had unintentionally broadcast her
|
|
reprimand publicly, they had all heard her, not just Deanna's mother.
|
|
|
|
"Do I have my usual suite, Captain?" she demanded icily.
|
|
|
|
"Of course, Mrs. Troi. May I help you..."
|
|
|
|
"No." she cut him off mid-sentence. "Mr. Hom will bring my things. I know
|
|
the way. I see no reason to stand here and be insulted!"
|
|
|
|
With that she sailed out of the room, trailed by the tall man carrying a large
|
|
rounded object. After the doors closed behind her, there was half a minute of
|
|
absolute silence, then Deanna began to laugh. Riker joined her, even the
|
|
Captain chuckled. The man at the console looked as confused as Etain felt.
|
|
She looked at Deanna, then to Picard. Riker wiped his eyes, and shook his head,
|
|
still smiling.
|
|
|
|
"Congratulations, m'lady. A complete rout."
|
|
|
|
__I do not understand,__ she complained.
|
|
|
|
Deanna managed to stop laughing long enough to gasp, "I'll explain it to you,
|
|
in a moment. After I catch my breath."
|
|
|
|
Etain nodded, still perplexed. Continuing to chuckle, Picard moved toward the
|
|
door.
|
|
|
|
"Watcher Sho is expecting me. I'll see you later."
|
|
|
|
Riker regarded Deanna with amusement. "I want to hear this. Go on."
|
|
|
|
Deanna took a deep breath, then started to laugh again. Riker leaned back
|
|
against the wall, crossed his arms on his chest and looked over at Etain with a
|
|
grin.
|
|
|
|
"This may take a while."
|
|
|
|
Picard stood outside the Watcher's cabin, waiting for her to answer, still
|
|
amused by the scene in the transporter room. It was high time someone gave
|
|
Lwaxana Troi a taste of her own medicine. He sobered after a moment, though,
|
|
realizing that if Lwaxana didn't come around, Etain might have just effectively
|
|
ruined Deanna's well-conceived plan. He was still pondering that when the door
|
|
opened.
|
|
|
|
"Captain, you look distressed. Is something wrong?"
|
|
|
|
"Nothing that need concern you, thank you. Have you come to a decision?"
|
|
|
|
She frowned. "No. I have not. I need that missing piece."
|
|
|
|
Picard nodded. "I understand. Perhaps this will help."
|
|
|
|
He held out a holodisk. She took it from him, eyebrows lifted in curiosity.
|
|
|
|
"Lieutenant Worf found this aboard Delvekia's ship. It was hidden in the aft
|
|
engine housing, behind the reactor shielding, in an idrium plated box. It
|
|
would have escaped any standard search, but Worf is rather more efficient than
|
|
most security officers. It is a computer-notarized recording of Seret Ng
|
|
outlining the reasons for and the implementation of the destruction of the
|
|
Rua'Shi. Dates, places, exact information which can be easily verified. It
|
|
implicates only a handful of people, very few apparently even knew of the
|
|
Rua'Shi's existence. Interestingly, Davan Delvekia is not among those named.
|
|
Whatever his crimes, it appears you were right about him. Among those she
|
|
indicts are herself, Coran Delvekia, and Jaron Kelssohn."
|
|
|
|
She looked at it, a smile forming. "Delvekia's 'insurance.' I knew he had to
|
|
have something. But where did he get it?"
|
|
|
|
"Probably from Seret Ng. I would venture to guess she made it shortly before
|
|
our meeting, and meant to give it to me there, as she addresses me by name at
|
|
the start of the recording."
|
|
|
|
"This will do it, you know. This will give us the case, without doubt."
|
|
|
|
"I know. Shall I have Worf take Jaron Kelssohn into custody?"
|
|
|
|
"No, not yet. The rest of my team should be arriving within the day, and I
|
|
think it would be best for my people to make the arrest. Just have him
|
|
watched."
|
|
|
|
"Already accomplished. Worf informs me he has had security personnel on the
|
|
ground and here keeping Kelssohn under surveillance since my disappearence.
|
|
He and Riker suspected he was involved in that. Worf's tracking him via his
|
|
security implant."
|
|
|
|
"His what?"
|
|
|
|
"He has an implant that monitors his vital signs and whereabouts at all times,
|
|
courtesy of Halvami Security. Worf discovered his code and has been
|
|
monitoring it."
|
|
|
|
She looked impressed. "This Lieutenant Worf sounds like a worthy officer.
|
|
Would that I had his like on my staff."
|
|
|
|
"I wouldn't be without him. He is one of the best I have, and I have more than
|
|
my share of the best in StarFleet. He has proven invaluable."
|
|
|
|
"No doubt. If you will excuse me, I would like to view this now."
|
|
|
|
"Of course, but may I ask one last question?"
|
|
|
|
"Certainly."
|
|
|
|
"Etain. What are your plans for her?"
|
|
|
|
The Watcher sighed. "Etain, yes. She killed Coran Delvekia, but it can be
|
|
persuasively argued that it was in self-defense, and under extreme provocation.
|
|
It could even be that she was not entirely in her right mind. I do need her
|
|
here both to testify, and for input as to the final settlement of the case,
|
|
she being the last living representative of her people." She fell silent and
|
|
stared off at nothing for a moment, then nodded decisively. "I will keep her
|
|
with me until the trial is over, and then release her to some responsible party
|
|
for a probationary period, perhaps two years. During that time she will
|
|
receive counseling, and if she shows no tendency toward violence, she will be
|
|
released uncharged. I don't believe anyone, other than Jaron Kelssohn, can
|
|
possibly object to that."
|
|
|
|
Picard nodded. "It sounds a reasonable course."
|
|
|
|
"Do you wish to be considered for the position of probationer?"
|
|
|
|
He stared at her, a bit shocked. "Gods, no! This is the last place she should
|
|
be, and in any case, I'm not cut out for that sort of role."
|
|
|
|
Kadin smiled. "I suspected you would refuse, but it seemed polite to offer.
|
|
Have you any candidate in mind?"
|
|
|
|
Picard thought instantly of Lwaxana. "We may, I'll have let you know."
|
|
|
|
"I will await your word. Thank you for your efforts, your help has been
|
|
indispensable.
|
|
|
|
"You are more than welcome. I only wish we'd been able to intervene earlier."
|
|
|
|
"You and I both, Captain Picard. Good evening."
|
|
|
|
With a nod he acknowledged her dismissal and headed for his cabin for a little
|
|
peace.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
The door signal emitted its distinctive triple tone, and Picard stiffened,
|
|
wondering for a moment if his caller were Lwaxana Troi. He sincerely hoped
|
|
not, though after her go-round with Etain earlier that day, he rather suspected
|
|
she was sulking in her room. With a sigh he put down his book and sat up.
|
|
"Come."
|
|
|
|
The door slid open and he relaxed immediately. Not Lwaxana, Etain. In one
|
|
hand she held her book, in the other a small disc'corder. He motioned her
|
|
inside.
|
|
|
|
"Come in, please."
|
|
|
|
She nodded and stepped hesitantly inside. He gestured toward the couch.
|
|
"Please, sit down. What can I do for you?"
|
|
|
|
She sat, gingerly, on the edge of the couch, as if ready to leap up and flee.
|
|
She glanced down at her hands, then decisively held out her book to him. He
|
|
took it, eyebrows lifted, waiting for her to enlighten him. She frowned
|
|
slightly, slowly lifted her hands, and executed a series of motions with hands
|
|
and fingers. He smiled.
|
|
|
|
"Yes, I understand you. That's very good. Who's been teaching you Feslan?"
|
|
|
|
She signed rapidly. He smiled. "Wesley Crusher? That was thoughtful of him.
|
|
Now, what did you want to ask me?"
|
|
|
|
She signed again, her movements hesitant and awkward, but understandable to
|
|
anyone who knew the language. He frowned.
|
|
|
|
"Me?"
|
|
|
|
She nodded.
|
|
|
|
"I suppose so, although why you want a recording of me reading your book is
|
|
quite beyond me."
|
|
|
|
Etain began to sign, then suddenly stopped, shaking her head. __I'm sorry. I
|
|
cannot find that sign. What is 'remember'?__
|
|
|
|
He showed her, drawing two fingers across his forehead. She copied the
|
|
movement. __Like this?__
|
|
|
|
"Yes, exactly."
|
|
|
|
She sighed. __There is so much to remember, it is good to learn that sign, it
|
|
seems I need it. It is far easier to speak mind to mind, yet Deanna tells me
|
|
it is impolite to do so with strangers so I must use this Feslan of yours.__
|
|
She looked at him anxiously. __Do you object when I speak this way to you?__
|
|
|
|
"Not at all." he assured her quickly. "It's a little disconcerting, but I
|
|
understand your preference, especially now while Feslan is still new to you."
|
|
|
|
She nodded. __Thank you. Deanna says I must not use the mindspeech too much,
|
|
or I will not retain the things I have learned, but surely this cannot hurt.
|
|
You say you do not understand why I wish to have this recording. I will try to
|
|
explain.__ She looked off into the distance, her gaze fixed on nothing. __I
|
|
have many memories, Picard, most of which I would prefer to forget. There are
|
|
a few, though, that I would keep. Your voice is one of those. You were kind
|
|
to me, when I most needed kindness.__
|
|
|
|
To his surprise Picard felt himself color. He cleared his throat in
|
|
embarrassment and looked down at the book he held. "I would be honored, then."
|
|
|
|
Her gaze returned to his face, direct and candid. __Thank you.__
|
|
|
|
"No thanks are needed." he gestured to the device in her lap. "Do you know
|
|
how to use that?"
|
|
|
|
She nodded. __Yes. The one who sees by machine showed me. He said that a
|
|
child could do it, and obviously he is right, for I had no difficulty.__
|
|
|
|
Picard was momentarily perplexed by her phrase, then he realized who she
|
|
meant and began to smile. "`The one who sees by machine.' Geordi. Do you
|
|
have nicknames for all of us?"
|
|
|
|
She gazed at him blankly. __Nicknames?__
|
|
|
|
"Like what you just called Geordi."
|
|
|
|
__Ah.__ she shrugged. __Not all of you, no. Worf is the fierce one, Riker
|
|
the bearded one, T'kar the cool one, Deanna the warm one, Data the silent one,
|
|
for I cannot hear him. It is easier for me to remember them so.__
|
|
|
|
"And me?" he prompted.
|
|
|
|
She shook her head. __I have no need of a... a help to remember you.__
|
|
|
|
He decided to stop asking questions whose answers he didn't really want to
|
|
know, and to cover his discomfort he turned instructive.
|
|
|
|
"The word you wanted there was mnemonic. Something which aids the memory."
|
|
|
|
She nodded. __Thank you. I will remember.__
|
|
|
|
He opened the book. "Ready when you are."
|
|
|
|
She relaxed finally, tucking her feet beneath her as she settled back against
|
|
the cushions and activated the recorder. He was amused to note that she was
|
|
barefoot. Shoes were one concession she had not yet made. He wondered how
|
|
long it would take before she adapted to that as well.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Picard read the final words and closed the book, setting it down and reaching
|
|
over to take the recorder from Etain's limp fingers and deactivate it. She had
|
|
fallen asleep three stories earlier, but he had continued anyway, not knowing
|
|
if he would get a chance to finish the recording at another time. He placed
|
|
the book on his table with the recorder on top of it, then sat and watched her
|
|
for a moment, realizing how much she had changed in the short time he had known
|
|
her. She had been half-feral, virtually a child, with almost no knowledge
|
|
outside herself and her narrow experience, yet she had adapted to almost
|
|
inconceivable change with astonishing ease. She had changed physically, still
|
|
small but no longer thin. No doubt ready access to food had done that for her;
|
|
but there were other, more subtle changes as well, a maturity of expression and
|
|
depth of emotion that had not been there before. Hardly surprising,
|
|
considering her experiences of the past few days. He no longer tended to think
|
|
of her as a child, though he hadn't yet begun to see her as a woman. It was a
|
|
peculiar, twilight state.
|
|
|
|
She moved, rearranging herself more comfortably, pillowing her head on one arm.
|
|
He shook his head, suppressing a chuckle at her penchant for drifting off in his
|
|
quarters, and wondering if her obvious need for rest had anything to do with
|
|
her battle of wills with Lwaxana Troi. He got to his feet quietly and went to
|
|
his bed to get her a blanket, and covered her with it, then picked up the book
|
|
he had been reading and left. He wanted no more rumors.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Guinan knew Picard had entered Ten Forward even before she turned around. The
|
|
sudden repetition of his title made the rounds, causing a echo-like sussuration
|
|
around the room. It was unusual for him to be there now, near the middle of
|
|
his off-shift. Usually he would be in his quarters. She extended a subtle
|
|
probe in his direction, found him introspective and a little melancholy. She
|
|
knew immediately who the cause was, if not why. With a smile she excused
|
|
herself from the table she had joined and went to procure a cup of tea, Earl
|
|
Grey of course, to take to the table he had chosen which sat some distance from
|
|
the others, and commanded a good view of stellar panorama which dominated the
|
|
outer wall. She set the cup down in front of him and seated herself while he
|
|
took a sip and nodded his thanks. She leaned forward, resting her chin on one
|
|
hand.
|
|
|
|
"So...?"
|
|
|
|
He lifted an eyebrow, pretending not to understand. She lifted one back at him.
|
|
|
|
"Don't give me that look," she said acerbically. "What are you doing in here?"
|
|
|
|
"Having a cup of tea." he replied blandly.
|
|
|
|
"Mmm, so I see. Why are you doing it here, instead of in your quarters?"
|
|
|
|
"Because my quarters are otherwise occupied, and I'm taking your advice."
|
|
|
|
She frowned. "What advice?"
|
|
|
|
"Etain's fallen asleep there again, and since both you and Will have counseled
|
|
me on keeping my reputation pristine, as it were, I thought it prudent to
|
|
absent myself."
|
|
|
|
"Oh." I see," she was silent for a moment. "She's in love with you, you
|
|
know."
|
|
|
|
He flinched slightly, turning his tea cup in slow circles. "I wouldn't put it
|
|
quite that way, but yes, I am aware that she has formed an... emotional
|
|
attachment to me."
|
|
|
|
Guinan smiled narrowly. "Cautiously stated."
|
|
|
|
Picard shrugged. "Your point?" he queried.
|
|
|
|
"I was just wondering what you plan to do about it."
|
|
|
|
He shook his head. "I wasn't planning on doing anything about it."
|
|
|
|
"I see."
|
|
|
|
He scowled at her fiercely. "Damn it Guinan, don't do that!"
|
|
|
|
"Do what?" she asked innocently.
|
|
|
|
"Say 'I see,' like that. It's very annoying."
|
|
|
|
"I see."
|
|
|
|
He took a deep breath, let it out slowly, then looked at her askance and began to
|
|
chuckle. "You did that on purpose," he accused.
|
|
|
|
"Who, me?" She asked ingenuously.
|
|
|
|
"Yes, you." He shifted his gaze back to her face, and returned to the previous
|
|
subject. "Why do you ask?"
|
|
|
|
"Incurable nosiness?" she offered, then shook her head, suddenly serious. "No,
|
|
I was just hoping you weren't planning to try and discourage her."
|
|
|
|
He shook his head again. "No. I don't think she needs any more hurt right now.
|
|
She won't mention it, neither will I. In any case, she'll forget about me soon
|
|
enough, once away from here."
|
|
|
|
Guinan chuckled. "Aren't we modest today?"
|
|
|
|
He shot her a disgusted glance and took a sip of tea before continuing.
|
|
"Speaking of Lwaxana Troi, which we weren't, has she been in?"
|
|
|
|
Guinan grinned, both at his obvious change of subject and at the subject itself,
|
|
"No, though I heard about her encounter with Etain from Deanna. She almost
|
|
couldn't stop laughing long enough to tell me about it. She said Etain was her
|
|
mother's just reward. I think after the initial shock wears off, they'll get
|
|
along quite well."
|
|
|
|
"I certainly hope so. I will admit that after having put up with Lwaxana on
|
|
several occasions, it was rather entertaining to see someone best her."
|
|
|
|
"Deanna and Will both agree with you."
|
|
|
|
"I wonder how long it will be before she comes out?" Picard mused.
|
|
|
|
Guinan gestured toward a table around which a crowd was clustered. "They're
|
|
putting odds on it over there."
|
|
|
|
A slow smile began to spread across Picard's face. "How interesting. What
|
|
sort of odds?"
|
|
|
|
Guinan's nonexistant eyebrows rose expressively. "Jean-Luc, I'm ashamed of
|
|
you!"
|
|
|
|
"No you're not," he said, his voice rich with amusement.
|
|
|
|
She chuckled. "You're right. I'm not. Come on, let's check it out."
|
|
|
|
He shook his head ruefully. "Sorry, they'd stop the minute I got within
|
|
hearing distance. No, you go, and let me know."
|
|
|
|
"Suit yourself, but I think it'd be good for them to see you with your hair
|
|
down... so to speak."
|
|
|
|
He stared at her a moment as if he couldn't quite believe his ears, then shook
|
|
his head. "Not likely, Guinan, not likely. And watch it."
|
|
|
|
She stood, smoothly, and nodded. "Watching it, sir."
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
______________________________________________________________________________
|
|
copyright 1992, Kellie Matthews-Simmons
|
|
matthews_k@cubldr.colorado.edu//matthewk@spot.colorado.edu
|
|
all rights reserved
|
|
|
|
Standard Disclaimers Apply
|
|
|
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From JULIA@Jetson.UH.EDU Tue Aug 31 16:34:45 1993
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|
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Status: RO
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From: JULIA@Jetson.UH.EDU
|
|
To: jfy@cis.ksu.edu
|
|
Subject: (TNG) Silence, A Novel by Kellie Matthews-Simmons, Part 14
|
|
Date: Tue, 31 Aug 1993 12:46:21 -0500 (CDT)
|
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|
|
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
|
|
|
|
Etain woke up. Her arm had fallen asleep and the unpleasant stinging-tingling
|
|
sensation had finally intruded into her almost-nightmares enough to wake her.
|
|
She sat up slowly, disoriented, catching the blanket as it slid off her, and
|
|
wondered where she was. It took only seconds to remember, and feel embarrassed.
|
|
She hadn't meant to fall asleep, but being read to seemed to have that effect
|
|
on her. She could sense that Picard was no longer present and felt a pang of
|
|
disappointment. There was little time left before she had to voyage to a world
|
|
utterly foreign to her with Deanna's mother. A woman she had managed to
|
|
thoroughly antagonize. She sighed heavily, she seemed to have quite a talent
|
|
for annoying people. There was so much to learn, would she ever know all of
|
|
it?
|
|
|
|
Carefully she folded the blanket and set it on the couch, then picked up the
|
|
recorder and touched the playback pad. Picard's voice began, reading the first
|
|
few words. Satisfied she turned the device off and lifted her book. After
|
|
gazing at it for several minutes, she stood up and walked over to the Picard's
|
|
bookshelf and studied it until she found a volume of the same approximate size
|
|
and color, then slipped her own book in beside it and stepped back to gauge the
|
|
effect. It looked as if it belonged there. She smiled sadly, touched the
|
|
book's spine with one finger, saying goodbye, then finally she picked up the
|
|
recorder again and left the room.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
As she walked toward her rooms, Etain suddenly stopped and turned back, half-
|
|
tempted to go and retrieve her book. After a moment's struggle she sighed and
|
|
shook her head, enforcing her earlier decision. A few steps further on, she
|
|
stopped again, this time by the nagging feeling that there was something she
|
|
ought to be doing. Before she could decide what it was, a door across the hall
|
|
opened and an imperious 'voice' summoned her.
|
|
|
|
__Come here, child, we must talk.__
|
|
|
|
She stiffened. Deanna's Mother.
|
|
|
|
__Stop thinking about me in capital letters like that. My name is Lwaxana,__
|
|
her tone softened. __Please, come in.__
|
|
|
|
Etain turned and slowly walked toward the open door, dreading the encounter.
|
|
For a moment she stood on the threshold, and peeked in, looking around for the
|
|
tall, pale man who had accompanied Deanna's mother. He was nowhere to be
|
|
seen, the only occupant of the room was Lwaxana herself, lounging on a couch,
|
|
resplendent in a shimmering garment of metallic purple. She beckoned to Etain,
|
|
who reluctantly stepped inside. The hiss of the door closing behind her was
|
|
depressingly final. For several long seconds they stood and looked at each
|
|
other, then both tried to speak at once.
|
|
|
|
__I am sorry if I embarrassed you...__
|
|
|
|
__Forgive my bad temper, child...__
|
|
|
|
Lwaxana laughed, and Etain smiled, unable to laugh. After a moment Lwaxana
|
|
began again.
|
|
|
|
__I see we've been thinking along the same lines. That should make this easier.
|
|
You were absolutely right earlier, I was being rude; but you see, it is the way
|
|
I am, and they're all used to me. I venture to say they even expect it of me.
|
|
If I didn't needle Jean-Luc a little he'd be disappointed, whether he admits it
|
|
or not.__
|
|
|
|
Etain looked at her doubtfully, and Lwaxana nodded. __Take my word for it. I
|
|
only do it to loosen things up a bit, they get so dreadfully full of themselves
|
|
sometimes, and so drearily serious. Getting their dignity off-kilter is good
|
|
for them.__
|
|
|
|
Etain began to smile a little. She could see Lwaxana's point. They were all
|
|
rather serious, but then, circumstances had contributed to seriousness of late.
|
|
Perhaps she was right, they did need to... loosen up. Herself included.
|
|
|
|
__I did not understand, I'm sorry.__
|
|
|
|
__I know that now. And it was partly my fault. I overreacted. I do take
|
|
things for granted some times, and I guess I can be rather full of myself as
|
|
well. Can we start over?__
|
|
|
|
Etain nodded. __I think I would like that.__
|
|
|
|
__Good, because it would make things a little difficult if we couldn't. Will
|
|
you sit down and tell me about yourself? Deanna had told me only the barest of
|
|
bones, and aside from that I have learned only a little about you myself.__
|
|
|
|
Etain sat, her curiosity piqued. __What is it you have learned?__
|
|
|
|
__That you have extraordinary mental abilities, are extremely loyal,
|
|
protective, and well-intentioned, and you also have excellent taste in men.__
|
|
|
|
Etain stared at her, puzzled by her last comment. __I do not understand.__
|
|
|
|
Lwaxana studied her intently for a moment, then shook her head. __No, I don't
|
|
suppose you do, at that. Well, you will, once your body finishes playing catch-
|
|
up. I was referring to the good Captain,__ she sighed theatrically. __It is
|
|
such a shame he's one of those 'married to his ship' sort of men. I've tried
|
|
and tried, but to no avail. He simply will not be distracted.__
|
|
|
|
Etain's puzzlement grew into true bewilderment. __Please, explain.__
|
|
|
|
Lwaxana looked nonplussed. __Oh dear, your education has been sorely
|
|
neglected, hasn't it? I'll have to speak to Deanna about that. Anyone with an
|
|
ounce of sensitivity should have seen that you're in Change! She really should
|
|
have noticed!__
|
|
|
|
Etain was beginning to get annoyed. Lwaxana might as well have been speaking
|
|
another language for all the sense she made. She did not try to hide her
|
|
irritation. __Speak plainly! I do not understand you!__
|
|
|
|
Lwaxana's brows lifted. __My, my, a little touchy are we? Well, that's
|
|
understandable, having one's hormones in flux will do that. You want plain
|
|
speaking, you'll have it. How old are you?__
|
|
|
|
Unprepared for that, Etain had to think a moment. __I am not certain, it was
|
|
hard to keep track, but I think I have thirty-four of your years, and a single
|
|
Sleep.__
|
|
|
|
__A Sleep? Oh, yes, Deanna did mention something about hibernation cycles.
|
|
Well then, have you any idea at what age your people normally become
|
|
physically mature?__
|
|
|
|
__Between twenty and twenty-five, not counting Sleeps.__
|
|
|
|
__So, you're long overdue, aren't you?__
|
|
|
|
Etain nodded, feeling a wave of depression wash over her. __I am. The Maiden
|
|
still claims me, I have not been touched by the Mother's hand.__
|
|
|
|
__Well, my dear, that's in the process of changing, even as we speak. I'd
|
|
venture to guess that your diet has improved drastically of late, hasn't it?__
|
|
|
|
__Yes. Here I am never hungry.__
|
|
|
|
Lwaxana scowled, her quick temper flaring. __Never hungry? By the Chalice, I
|
|
thought it was simply an inefficient diet, not an insufficient one! Has no one
|
|
here noticed that you're changing?"
|
|
|
|
Etain thought about it and nodded slowly. __I have, but I do not know the
|
|
cause. The doctor said that some of my...__ she hesitated, groping for the
|
|
right concept, __...my readings, were different, but she did not know why, and
|
|
I have not pursued it.__
|
|
|
|
Lwaxana lifted her eyes in exasperation. __What a bunch of idiots!__ She
|
|
leaned forward and put her hand over Etain's, reassuringly. __What you sense
|
|
is your body maturing, you're becoming a woman.__
|
|
|
|
Etain's eyes narrowed, a furrow etching between her eyebrows. __I am already
|
|
female.__
|
|
|
|
__Yes, and no. I believe that you would say that the Mother has touched you.
|
|
Do you understand that?__
|
|
|
|
Etain's skin tightened as if a cold wind had blown over her, and her eyes went
|
|
wide. She shook her head, slowly at first, then with increasing vehemence, her
|
|
breathing shallow and fast. With a painful, inarticulate gasp she leapt to her
|
|
feet, fists clenched.
|
|
|
|
__No! No, not now! I can't! I don't want it! Why would She do that to me?
|
|
Even if I did, there is no one left... no one! Must I die as well?__
|
|
|
|
Lwaxana stared at her, obviously taken completely by surprise by Etain's
|
|
reaction.
|
|
|
|
__Die? Child, what on earth is the matter? It is a time of joy, why do you
|
|
fear it?__
|
|
|
|
Etain shuddered, and without trying to explain, surrendered her flooding
|
|
memories to Lwaxana who recoiled, aghast. It took her a moment to gather
|
|
herself, and when she did her projection was as gentle as her hand was on
|
|
Etain's hair, stroking softly like a mother with a much younger child.
|
|
|
|
__I cannot say how sorry I am. I did not know, Deanna did not tell me... but
|
|
then, I didn't give her much of an opportunity to do so. All I can say is that
|
|
is not how it should be, and I hope someday you will learn that. But, though
|
|
you have good reason to fear sex, I don't understand why you fear physical
|
|
maturity. The two do not have to go hand-in-hand. Why do you associate
|
|
maturity with death?__
|
|
|
|
Etain's expression grew even bleaker. __Because if I become a woman, then one
|
|
day the Burning will come, and with the others dead, there is no one for me. I
|
|
will die.__
|
|
|
|
Lwaxana regarded her oddly. __The Burning? Heavens, little-one, you sound
|
|
like a Vulcan!__
|
|
|
|
__They tell me that I am, partly, that the Vulcans were the ones we called the
|
|
Shi, who joined their blood to ours at Second Home. Do you tell me they have
|
|
the Burning? I do not believe it! They are too... controlled!__
|
|
|
|
Lwaxana chuckled. __Believe me, they have it. Much as they hate to admit it,
|
|
they have it. And they have ways to get around it that you must learn. No one
|
|
dies of it, not any more.__
|
|
|
|
__You are sure of this?__ Etain asked dubiously. It sounded far too easy.
|
|
|
|
__Absolutely.__ Lwaxana smiled reassuringly. __There would be a lot of dead
|
|
Vulcans around if it wasn't so. There are medicines and disciplines which help,
|
|
and we will certainly see that you have access to both. Even if that were not
|
|
the case, you do not necessarily have to take a mate of your own kind. As long
|
|
as you are mentally and physically compatible, any humanoid species would do.
|
|
Andorians, Betazoid, Vulcans, Humans, a Klingon might prove interesting...__
|
|
Lwaxana's voice trailed off as she gazed speculatively at nothing.
|
|
|
|
Etain realized that the concept should not have been a surprise to her, after
|
|
all, had not Bryn and Athlan been children of Tall Ones? Yet, somehow it was.
|
|
|
|
__This is so?__ she asked, uncertainly.
|
|
|
|
__It is. I know of many cross-species pairings. Vulcans are quite prone to
|
|
taking Human mates. You are apparently the product of such. Children may even
|
|
be possible, should you want them, medical science has become quite adept at
|
|
supporting cross-species unions. Deanna's father was Human, and she turned
|
|
out nicely, if a little serious.__
|
|
|
|
Etain had to smile. Despite their surface estrangement, it was obvious that
|
|
Lwaxana's love for her daughter ran very deep, and she already knew how the
|
|
counselor felt about her mother. She searched for the proper response, and
|
|
found it.
|
|
|
|
__Deanna is very beautiful, in all ways.__
|
|
|
|
Lwaxana preened. __Yes, she is, isn't she? She takes after my side of the
|
|
family,__ she patted the couch beside her. __Come, sit down again... there,
|
|
better. Have I managed to put that fear to rest?__
|
|
|
|
Etain nodded. __Yes. I would sense it if you were lying to me. I will not
|
|
die.__
|
|
|
|
__No, that you will not.__ She leaned forward suddenly and took Etain's hands
|
|
in hers. __As for the other... only time, talk, and the right man will prove
|
|
that out. I assure you, it is worth the effort you will need to make to
|
|
overcome your fears.__
|
|
|
|
Etain shivered involuntarily at the thought. __If you say so.__
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
The sudden hush that fell in Ten-Forward made Picard look up, wondering what
|
|
had caused it. He glanced around, noticed the direction that everyone else was
|
|
looking, and turned toward the doors. It was all he could do not to gape like
|
|
a half-wit as Lwaxana Troi entered the room like a three-masted-frigate under
|
|
full sail, Etain trailing in her wake. Etain, and Lwaxana? In one room,
|
|
apparently reconciled, after only four hours? He wouldn't have believed it if
|
|
he hadn't seen it with his own eyes. Apparently neither could anyone else.
|
|
|
|
After a moment, conversations began again, siffly, and most of the crowd around
|
|
one particular table thinned out almost instantly, leaving a few disappointed-
|
|
looking souls, and one rather smug hostess. Picard caught Guinan's eye as she
|
|
reached to pick up somethingfrom the table, and lifted an eyebrow at her. She
|
|
grinned, continued her motion, and tucked whatever it was into her sleeve. He
|
|
wondered if she'd cheated, after all, her abilities could give her an edge.
|
|
Probably not, but with Guinan, one never knew. His gaze returned to Lwaxana,
|
|
who had obviously spotted him and changed course toward his position. He waited,
|
|
for once actually interested in what she would say. To his surprise, she
|
|
exhibited none of her usual flamboyance as she seated herself. Etain smiled at
|
|
him, then to his surprise, she turned away and walked over to Guinan.
|
|
|
|
"What plans have been made regarding Etain, Captain?"
|
|
|
|
He returned his attention to Lwaxana. "Regarding Etain... in what context?"
|
|
|
|
"She has told me what happened, all of it. She and I both understand she will
|
|
almost certainly be called to account for Coran Delvekia's death. I need to
|
|
know what sort of charges will be pending, so I can arrange appropriate
|
|
counsel."
|
|
|
|
Picard was somewhat taken aback. He'd never seen this side of Lwaxana before,
|
|
the completely level-headed, take-charge side. For the first time an
|
|
comprehensible personality link with Deanna was clear. He straightened.
|
|
|
|
"I spoke with Watcher Sho about that earlier," he began. Lwaxana interrupted.
|
|
|
|
"Kadin Sho? Of Efros?"
|
|
|
|
Picard nodded. Lwaxana looked pleased.
|
|
|
|
"Good, a sensible woman, and a fine prosecutor. Good choice."
|
|
|
|
"I agree. As I was saying, I spoke with her earlier and she indicated that at
|
|
this time she does not plan to prefer charges. She feels the circumstances
|
|
fall under a combination of self-defense and temporary mental aberrancy. She
|
|
will, however, recommend her for a probationary period of two years, during
|
|
which Etain must reside with a responsible party. The probationary
|
|
recommendation will also specify that she receive extensive counseling."
|
|
|
|
Lwaxana nodded, eyes assessing him shrewdly. "At your suggestion?"
|
|
|
|
"No, though I would have made such, had it been necessary."
|
|
|
|
"Mmm. Well then, it looks as if there is no bar to my taking her home to
|
|
Betazed."
|
|
|
|
"Only one. She will have to remain here until the proceedings are completed,
|
|
both as a witness, and as the legal representative of the Rua'Shi. It could
|
|
take some time."
|
|
|
|
"Yes, it could. Well then, it looks as if I have a great many arrangements to
|
|
make. If you will excuse me..."
|
|
|
|
"Of course, Mrs. Troi." He stood, politely, and helped her to her feet as
|
|
tradition demanded. She held onto his hand for a moment after she stood, eyes
|
|
downcast. He tensed, waiting for the proverbial 'other shoe' to drop. After
|
|
a moment she spoke.
|
|
|
|
"Etain made me aware that I have been excessively rude. I'm sorry for that. I
|
|
did not intend to be so." she looked up finally, and there was a definite
|
|
twinkle in her eyes. "I only meant to be a little rude. Thank you, Captain."
|
|
|
|
She let go of his hand and sailed away before he could respond. He watched her
|
|
go, shaking his head, unable to decide if he was amused or irritated. He
|
|
looked for Etain, but didn't see her, she must have gone while he had been
|
|
engaged in conversation. He realized with some pleasure that his quarters
|
|
were his own once more. He was tired, it would be good to get at least a
|
|
little rest.
|
|
|
|
On his way back, he thought about the fact that they would be departing within
|
|
a day. His orders had been to proceed on to their original destination, a
|
|
mapping mission of a low-temperature nebula, as soon as Legal had things in
|
|
hand. He was both anxious to do so, and a little reluctant. He would liked
|
|
to have seen things settled before he left, but that might take months, it was
|
|
impossible.
|
|
|
|
He realized that he would miss Etain, he genuinely enjoyed her presence. Perhaps
|
|
that bond she had forged had, to some extent, influenced him more than he had
|
|
thought. He found he was frowning and forced himself to stop. Rationally, he
|
|
knew it had nothing to do with her temporary enhancement of his empathic side.
|
|
That was gone, and had not influenced anything permanently. No, he had to
|
|
admit that it was an integral part of his nature to avoid emotional attachments,
|
|
and it always took him by surprise when he found that he had, without
|
|
comprehending it, allowed someone to become close. He found himself doing it
|
|
rather more frequently of late. He smiled to himself, ruefully. Counselor
|
|
Troi would be pleased, since she was constantly after him to be more open with
|
|
his emotions.
|
|
|
|
Thinking about Deanna brought back memories of the countless sessions spent on
|
|
the Borg, and the startling fact that he could now think of them without nearly
|
|
paralyzing fear, and more importantly, without the abyssal guilt. There was
|
|
still guilt, still fear, those would never leave him, but they were finally
|
|
under control. What a gift... an impossible gift. He should have something to
|
|
give in return, but what could possibly equal that?
|
|
|
|
He was still mulling that thought as he entered his quarters. Just as he set
|
|
his book down on the table and headed for his room to change, Worf's voice came
|
|
over the companel. He sighed, allowed himself a millisecond's slouch, then
|
|
straightened and responded.
|
|
|
|
"Picard here."
|
|
|
|
"Captain, I believe Guide Kelssohn is attempting to flee."
|
|
|
|
Picard rolled his eyes in exasperation. Couldn't the man have chosen some
|
|
other time to go renegade? Why did it always seem to work out this way?
|
|
|
|
"On my way, Lieutenant. Please notify Watcher Sho."
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
The Watcher met Picard in the turbolift, her expression troubled as they rode
|
|
together toward the bridge. After a moment she spoke.
|
|
|
|
"It seems I should not have waited, I did not mean to give him time to escape."
|
|
|
|
"I doubt he will, Watcher. Mr. Worf is quite efficient."
|
|
|
|
"That I have had some experience with. I trust you are correct." She paused a
|
|
moment, then continued. "Lwaxana Troi paid me a visit earlier. I did not know
|
|
she was aboard. She has requested trusteeship of Etain."
|
|
|
|
"I rather thought she might."
|
|
|
|
"She is the person you had in mind?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes, she is, at Counselor Troi's suggestion."
|
|
|
|
"It should prove an interesting arrangement. The woman-child, and the child-
|
|
woman. I wonder which is truly the elder? I had not realized when you
|
|
introduced us that the Counselor was Lwaxana's daughter. Interesting, I should
|
|
have made the connection, but they are very unlike. A fact for which I would
|
|
imagine you are grateful."
|
|
|
|
"You cannot imagine how much." Picard agreed, shuddering involuntarily at the
|
|
thought of Lwaxana Troi in the Counselor's seat. "You appear to know her."
|
|
|
|
"Does not everyone? The lady Troi has her hands in many pots."
|
|
|
|
Picard chuckled as the doors opened onto the bridge. If anyone was surprised
|
|
to hear it, they masked it well. He strode down the ramp and seated himself in
|
|
the seat Will Riker had just vacated. He motioned for the Watcher to take the
|
|
seat usually occupied by Counselor Troi. She shook her head, and remained
|
|
standing.
|
|
|
|
"Report, Lieutenant Worf."
|
|
|
|
Worf nodded, and launched into his explanation. "As you know, I have been
|
|
tracking Kelssohn's personal monitor signal. He has boarded a Hkkkai passenger
|
|
vessel, scheduled to leave in less than one hour for the Bithrant system. I was
|
|
able to access the passenger manifest on file with Terrestria Port Authority,
|
|
he was not listed. Further study revealed a passport registration for a man
|
|
named Nor Eslan matching his physical description, and using his retinal
|
|
scan and identity-codes. Lieutenant Commander Data has been unable to find a
|
|
valid passport issued under that name. This appears to confirm my suspicions
|
|
that Kelssohn is attempting to escape using falsified documents."
|
|
|
|
"Bithrant is in The Triangle, is it not?" The Watcher asked, referring to the
|
|
area of space which was treaty-shared by the Federation, the Klingon Empire,
|
|
and marginally, by the Romulan Empire. Triangle systems were notorious as
|
|
refuges for criminals from every sector of known space.
|
|
|
|
"It is." Worf confirmed.
|
|
|
|
"If he makes it to the Triangle, we'll never get him back."
|
|
|
|
"That is so, were he to get that far. However, though the ship is currently
|
|
under Halvami jurisdiction, once they leave orbit they will be subject to our
|
|
authority, and we can order her to stand to and surrender Kelssohn, as a known
|
|
criminal."
|
|
|
|
The Watcher shook her head. "No. He is not yet wanted, since a warrant has not
|
|
been issued."
|
|
|
|
Picard was startled that she hadn't taken care of that yet. It could take hours
|
|
for it to be issued. The matter being a Federation rather than a Starfleet one,
|
|
it would take a Federation justice to issue the warrant, Picard did not have
|
|
the necessary jurisdiction. That meant finding a Federation justice.
|
|
|
|
"Computer, location and identity of the Federation justice nearest our current
|
|
position."
|
|
|
|
"Working..." there was a short pause, then the voice spoke again. "At this
|
|
time, the nearest United Federation of Planets justice is Justice Aron Nghedi
|
|
at Starbase 72."
|
|
|
|
He looked at the Watcher somewhat pointedly.
|
|
|
|
"I suggest you contact him immediately, you may use my ready room, it has full
|
|
communications access."
|
|
|
|
She nodded. "Thank you, that would be helpful."
|
|
|
|
"May I ask why you have not issued a warrant?" he asked quietly as he
|
|
accompanied her to the door to allow her access to his sanctum sanctorum.
|
|
|
|
She nodded. "Of course. It was precisely because I wished to avoid this
|
|
situation. I delayed issuing the warrant until the rest of my staff arrived,
|
|
in hopes that he might not attempt to flee. My thought was that an orderly
|
|
transfer of power to Kelssohn's replacement could be arranged to spare Halvam
|
|
some of the shock his arrest will undoubtedly cause. Apparently I misjudged
|
|
his level of panic."
|
|
|
|
"I see, thank you."
|
|
|
|
Picard relaxed a little, her reasoning was sound. He was glad that her
|
|
omission had not been an oversight or poor planning, as neither of those fit
|
|
with his assessment of her character. He opened the door for her and returned
|
|
to stand just behind and between the operations and navigation stations, his
|
|
usual haunt when he was too keyed-up to sit. After a moment he glanced back at
|
|
Worf.
|
|
|
|
"Let me know if the situation changes." he said, though he knew it was
|
|
unnecessary.
|
|
|
|
"Aye, sir."
|
|
|
|
He studied the planet on the screen, watching the patterns formed by clouds
|
|
passing over the variegated colors of land and water. It always seemed ironic
|
|
how serene any planet seemed when viewed from this distance. Deceptively so,
|
|
in too many cases. Rarely did the scars of greed or hatred mark a planet so
|
|
deeply as to show from space. It was a shame that closer examination rarely
|
|
revealed such tranquility.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Though still tense, Picard had given up pacing out of compassion for his bridge-
|
|
crew's nerves, and was seated in the center seat. Finally, Worf broke the
|
|
silence.
|
|
|
|
"The Gksstant's engines are on-line, they are preparing to leave orbit."
|
|
|
|
Picard nodded, having been expecting it. He hadn't believed the Watcher would
|
|
be able to get her warrant issued that quickly. He rubbed his thumb absently
|
|
across his lower lip as he thought for a moment, then looked up.
|
|
|
|
"Have they filed a route?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes, sir."
|
|
|
|
"Good, feed it into the navigation computer. Ensign Henley, give them ten-
|
|
minutes' lead, then follow them. Be leisurely, and stay out of their sensor
|
|
range, I don't want to alert them to our intent."
|
|
|
|
"Aye, sir." The young woman at the navigation station paused a moment to read
|
|
the route codes as they flashed across her console, then keyed in her own route.
|
|
Minutes passed, then she looked up.
|
|
|
|
"Course plotted and laid in, time is now ten minutes from Gksstant's mark."
|
|
|
|
Picard nodded. "Thank you, Ensign, take her out. And remember, not too close."
|
|
|
|
She smiled. "Aye sir, not too close."
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
They had been following the Gksstant for close to two hours when Kadin Sho
|
|
finally emerged from his ready-room, looking somewhat worn, but smiling.
|
|
|
|
"It is done," she said as she came to stand beside him. "It took some doing,
|
|
he was reluctant, given the short notice, but once I made him aware of the
|
|
situation, he finally agreed to do it. We should receive confirmation of it
|
|
at any moment now."
|
|
|
|
"Good. I was beginning to worry that we would miss our window of opportunity."
|
|
|
|
"I could not let that happen. Crimes of this nature must not go unpunished.
|
|
On Efros, we would..." She broke off, and lifted her head to stare at the
|
|
viewscreen intently. "We are no longer orbiting Halvam. Why?"
|
|
|
|
"We're following the Gksstant."
|
|
|
|
She appeared surprised. "I had not realized it had been so long. I was too
|
|
absorbed in presenting my case."
|
|
|
|
"Captain." Worf spoke into the pause. "Message incoming from Starbase 72."
|
|
|
|
"On screen."
|
|
|
|
"Enterprise, this is Justice Aron Nghedi, do you read?"
|
|
|
|
Picard studied the man whose image gazed out at him. He looked to be in his
|
|
sixties, wirily built and ascetic-looking, almost regal. He was very dark-
|
|
skinned, with thick, short-cropped greying hair. His face was deeply lined,
|
|
his eyes dark, and penetrating. As a Federation justice he wore no uniform,
|
|
but his clothing were of conservative cut and sober color. Picard
|
|
unconsciously reseated the lower edge of his tunic before replying.
|
|
|
|
"This is Captain Picard, Justice Nghedi, and yes, you are quite clear."
|
|
|
|
"Picard? A pleasure to meet you, Captain, if this can properly be called a
|
|
meeting. But, to the matter at hand. I trust I do not need to fill you in
|
|
regarding the Halvami situation, since it was you and your people who uncovered
|
|
it. Suffice it to say, that I have agreed that there is enough evidence to
|
|
hold Guide Jaron Kelssohn of Halvam on suspicion of a colonial Prime Directive
|
|
violation, multiple counts of murder, and conspiracy. A warrant has been issued
|
|
for his arrest, it should be in your data bank now. I formally request that
|
|
you act in this matter on behalf of the United Federation of Planets as you
|
|
see fit."
|
|
|
|
"Thank you, Justice Nghedi. I will. Picard out."
|
|
|
|
The justice acknowledged his sign-off with a slight inclination of his head,
|
|
then his image faded, replaced by the star-filled view from the forward sensors.
|
|
Picard stood.
|
|
|
|
"Ensign Henley, set an intercept course, full impulse."
|
|
|
|
"Aye, sir," she said, fingers flying, "plotted and laid in, sir."
|
|
|
|
"Engage."
|
|
|
|
There was no perceptible acceleration as the ship leaped forward. Picard had
|
|
always been bothered by that, in some dark corner of his mind. It seemed he
|
|
should be able to feel the change in power somehow, like the change from sub-
|
|
light to warp-speed which was heralded by the doppler shift of the starlight.
|
|
He looked up at Worf, waiting, tense, at the Security station.
|
|
|
|
"Hail the Gksstant, Mr. Worf. Ask her to stand to, and surrender Jaron
|
|
Kelssohn."
|
|
|
|
"Aye sir." The Klingon's massive hands clenched once as he spoke with the
|
|
other ship, the only sign of his craving for battle.
|
|
|
|
Picard was slightly surprised when the other ship immediately slowed, then
|
|
stopped. He had not expected it to be quite that easy. He studied its image
|
|
on the viewer, and thought he understood why. The Gksstant was obviously
|
|
incapable of a fight, or, for that matter, of a flight. The ship was so
|
|
ancient he wasn't entirely sure what held it together, but he wasn't ruling out
|
|
corrosion.
|
|
|
|
"Enterprise, this is Captain Hros, of the Gksstant."
|
|
|
|
A face appeared on the viewscreen, a woman, or rather, a female Hkkkai. Her
|
|
face was a mottled shade of bluish-purple that on a human would have had him
|
|
calling for medical assistance. He recalled that among the Hkkkai the color
|
|
her anxious gaze was a startlingly similar hue. She leaned forward in her seat
|
|
as she continued, which had the effect of making all the bridge crew draw back,
|
|
instinctively.
|
|
|
|
"I assure you that we would be pleased to surrender this Kelsson person, were
|
|
he aboard, but there is no one by that name. You must have mistaken us for
|
|
some other vessel."
|
|
|
|
"We have the correct vessel, Captain Hros," Worf responded. "The man we seek
|
|
may be using the name Nor Eslan."
|
|
|
|
"Eslan?" She blinked, her inner-eyelids a white flash across her vertical-
|
|
pupiled eyes. "Haaais, bring me the passenger manifest."
|
|
|
|
After a moment she looked down at something, and back up. "Yesss," her accent
|
|
slipped momentarily into the sibilance of her native speech. "Eslan we have."
|
|
She looked offscreen, to someone on her bridge. "Haaais, you have let a criminal
|
|
on board! Bring him at once!"
|
|
|
|
She moved in an odd manner, followed by a slapping sound and a startled yelp
|
|
of pain from the unseen Haaais. Picard recalled that Hkkkai were possessed of
|
|
extremely strong, barb-tipped tails, which they did not hesitate to use. He
|
|
suspected the unfortunate Haaais had just borne the brunt of Hros' irritation.
|
|
|
|
The order given, Hros returned her attention to the viewscreen and attempted to
|
|
smile, baring toothless gums and a two-inch pair of curved ivory fangs.
|
|
Picard tried not to shudder in response.
|
|
|
|
"Sssorry, Captain of Enterprise. Haaais is not the most intelligent of Hkkkai,
|
|
but he does what I say. I should have checked passenger credentials myself."
|
|
|
|
Picard knew she was fishing for him to tell her she was free to go, once she
|
|
had given up Kelssohn. He strung her out a little.
|
|
|
|
"Yes, Captain Hros. You should have," he told her severely. "If you had
|
|
checked your passenger's credentials through properly, you would have found
|
|
there is no Nor Eslan. I wonder if any of your other passengers might be
|
|
carrying falsified credentials."
|
|
|
|
Hros' color became even darker, and her tongue flicked out in agitation. "None,
|
|
I assss... assure you! None at all. My ship is completely respectable! It is
|
|
just that there are only four of us, and so much work..."
|
|
|
|
"I am sure it is, Captain, you are obviously understaffed,"
|
|
Picard said soothingly. "I'm sure it was simply by chance that this person
|
|
happened to choose your vessel."
|
|
|
|
"Yes, yes precisssely! Ah, here is that wretch, Haaais, with the criminal."
|
|
|
|
Hros finally moved away from the viewer and allowed a full-screen scan of her
|
|
bridge. It was remarkably well-equipped, and in good condition, considering
|
|
the state of the vessel's exterior.
|
|
|
|
His trained eye scanned her set-up assessingly, and recognized several pieces
|
|
of state-of-the-art equipment. Her throne-like seat appeared to be carved from
|
|
real wood, was heavily padded, and upholstered in what looked like tapestry.
|
|
There was definitely more to the Gksstant than first glance would assume.
|
|
|
|
To one side of the conn stood two very large Hkkkai males, holding a human
|
|
between them. One of the Hkkkai had a pair of parallel slashes across the side
|
|
of his face which oozed dark fluid, no doubt a souvenir of Hros' tail barbs.
|
|
His prisoner was a big man, silver-hair in disarray, and wearing freight-
|
|
workers' coveralls, but all too familiar. Picard nodded to him.
|
|
|
|
"Guide Kelssohn. What a pleasant surprise."
|
|
|
|
"Picard," he acknowledged drily. "I'm afraid I can't say the same."
|
|
|
|
"I didn't think you would. Mr. Worf, take a security detail to ... 'welcome'
|
|
Guide Kelssohn to the Enterprise."
|
|
|
|
"Aye captain." Worf barked several names into the companel, ordering them to
|
|
report to the transporter room, and left.
|
|
|
|
Hros's face loomed close to the screen once more.
|
|
|
|
"What has the criminal done?" She asked curiously.
|
|
|
|
"Suspected criminal, Captain Hros." Picard corrected her, though in this case
|
|
it nearly went against the grain to grant innocence until guilt was proven
|
|
unequivocally. "His guilt will be determined by a court. As for what he may
|
|
have done, you will be learning that shortly, I have no doubt, from the media.
|
|
Thank you for your cooperation, you are free to go as soon as we have Kelssohn
|
|
aboard."
|
|
|
|
Her relief was obvious as her color lightened to pale violet, the normal color
|
|
of a Hkkkai female. As she expressed her thanks, he wondered what the cargo
|
|
was that she was so anxious to protect. The Hkkkai had a reputation for
|
|
disdaining Federation laws, so her giving up Kelssohn so readily clearly
|
|
indicated she had something aboard she didn't want them to know about.
|
|
Something illegal, no doubt. The image on the screen returned to the starfield,
|
|
and Worf's voice came over the com.
|
|
|
|
"Guide Kelssohn is aboard, sir. Shall we escort him to the brig?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes, Mr. Worf. Do so. The Watcher and I will join you there in a few
|
|
moments."
|
|
|
|
"Aye sir, Worf out."
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
A commotion brought Davan to his feet to see what was going on. Unfortunately
|
|
he couldn't see anything from his cell. He heard a voice complaining about the
|
|
'accommodations' and stiffened in disbelief. Jaron? Here? It seemed unlikely,
|
|
but that tone of bland arrogance was too familiar to belong to anyone else. He
|
|
frowned. If they had Jaron, that meant they had evidence, of some kind. Other
|
|
wise they would not have been able to arrest him. His thoughts went
|
|
immediately to the recording of Seret Ng he had stashed in his ship. Could
|
|
they have found it? He had taken great pains to make it all but impossible to
|
|
find. But... they had Kelssohn.
|
|
|
|
The Klingon spoke, loud and reprimanding. The argument was apparently resolved,
|
|
not, he suspected, to Kelssohn's liking, for he heard the subtle whine of a
|
|
force-shield springing into place in a nearby cell. Despite his worry, he
|
|
couldn't suppress a grin at the muttered expletive he overheard. It was good
|
|
to know he wasn't alone. His guilt was nothing compared to Kelssohn's and he
|
|
knew a jury would be aware of that. He settled back onto the narrow but not
|
|
uncomfortable bed and waited, listening intently, waiting for further
|
|
developments.
|
|
|
|
His wait wasn't long. Within minutes, he heard new voices, Picard, and the
|
|
Efrosian Watcher. He heard the woman list off the charges against Kelssohn,
|
|
and mentally added a few. He heard Kelssohn protest both his innocence, and
|
|
his arrest. If he hadn't known better, the affronted, grieving tone Jaron used
|
|
would almost have convinced him. Apparently neither Watcher Sho or Captain
|
|
Picard were convinced. They spoke for a few minutes more, saying nothing of
|
|
particular interest to Davan, then he was startled as they moved to stand
|
|
before his cell. He stood, immediately, and walked to within a few centimeters
|
|
of the force-screen. Despite himself, he began to hope.
|
|
|
|
"Captain Picard, Watcher Sho... have you considered my offer?"
|
|
|
|
"I have," the Watcher stated gravely.
|
|
|
|
"And?" he prompted nervously.
|
|
|
|
"I have decided not to prosecute you for involvement in the original massacre
|
|
of the Rua'Shi, but only because at the time you must have been a boy of what,
|
|
ten? Eleven? I doubt even the most felonious of eleven-year-olds could have
|
|
had a hand in designing or administering the plague which destroyed them. As
|
|
for your crimes since then, we will see what the evidence presents. If you
|
|
wish to testify for the prosecution, it is possible that the justice and jury
|
|
assigned to this case may be more inclined to leniency. Then again, they may
|
|
not. It is up to you. Your testimony would be useful, but not necessary. We
|
|
have the sworn statement of one who was involved, as well as corroborating
|
|
testimony from the sole Rua'Shi survivor."
|
|
|
|
Davan's hopes fell to the floor and shattered. They had Seret Ng's recording.
|
|
What else could she mean? Then her other statement sank in. Sole survivor.
|
|
|
|
"Survivor? Coran blew them all to hell and gone! How could anyone survive
|
|
that? It melted titanium girders!"
|
|
|
|
"You knew?" The Watcher gasped, shocked.
|
|
|
|
"No!" Davan exclaimed. "But I saw the site, no one could have survived that!"
|
|
|
|
"Etain wasn't in the fire." Picard said, flatly. "She was in the Rua'Shi city,
|
|
Dhara, guiding the away team Coran tried to ambush. Fortunately, she was able
|
|
to detect him, and his men, in time."
|
|
|
|
"Etain?" Davan asked, puzzled. He'd been in charge of the Dormitory for three
|
|
years, when he was still a lieutenant. None of them had been named Etain.
|
|
Abruptly a memory surfaced, a few days before the fire, one of his men had been
|
|
involved in an altercation behind a restaurant not far from the Dormitory. He
|
|
had sworn that he had seen a mysterious halfling female. The restauranteur
|
|
who'd knocked him unconscious with some sort of kitchen utensil had filed a
|
|
complaint against him, accused him of stealing food, and had also said he'd
|
|
tried to molest a young woman. They hadn't been able to locate the girl.
|
|
The men Coran had sent to kill Picard's rescuer had also described a physically
|
|
mature halfling female. With sickening clarity Davan remembered listening to
|
|
the five men who returned unscathed joking and bragging about the mission,
|
|
and he knew, as Coran must have known in the end, that she had somehow
|
|
survived. He ran a hand through his hair, shaken, wondering how she could have.
|
|
It was almost as unthinkable as a halfling surviving the fire. More than
|
|
that, how could she have been well enough two days later to lead a Starfleet
|
|
away-team to Dhara?
|
|
|
|
Picard spoke as if reading his mind. "If I find that you had anything to do
|
|
with what happened to her... "He left the sentence unfinished.
|
|
|
|
As Davan looked at Picard's grim face, at the harsh lines suddenly graven there,
|
|
he thanked every deity he could think of that he hadn't been the one who'd
|
|
issued that order.
|
|
|
|
"I had nothing to do with that. Coran was running the show, until he died.
|
|
Strange, I never knew he had a heart condition."
|
|
|
|
Picard and Watcher Sho exchanged a speaking glance. Davan wondered what
|
|
had prompted it. To his astonishment, Picard smiled, very slightly, not very
|
|
pleasantly.
|
|
|
|
"He didn't."
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Sitting alone in her room, Etain eavesdropped shamelessly, and with
|
|
satisfaction. She had killed the worst of them, but those who had aided the
|
|
Darkmind were caught, and would be brought to justice. Having met the Watcher,
|
|
she now had no doubt about that. She poked at her own feelings, prodding,
|
|
searching, until she was assured that there really was no part of her that
|
|
wanted to do to these two what she had done to the Darkmind. That was gone,
|
|
the worst of her rage burned away in a cleansing flash. Not that it was all
|
|
gone, she suspected that it might never go away, not completely, but it was
|
|
under control now, like Picard's fears of the Borg. It would never be able to
|
|
rise up and destroy her. She sighed, and withdrew herself from their thoughts
|
|
only a little guiltily. She knew she should not have listened without their
|
|
permission, but her need had outweighed her manners.
|
|
|
|
She stretched to relieve the ache in her lower back, and longed for the hot-
|
|
springs of her childhood. Their showers were pleasant, but not what she needed
|
|
at the moment. Her attempt to sleep in a 'real' bed, like theirs, had only
|
|
proven to her that sleeping in beds did not agree with her. This sleep-time
|
|
she would return to her c_s, her nest of cushions on the floor.
|
|
|
|
Feeling restless and odd, she got to her feet and paced a few steps. Why was
|
|
she restless? Things were coming to conclusions. She knew where she was to go,
|
|
her course, at least for a little while, was set. She thought of Lwaxana and
|
|
smiled, glad that she had not spoiled her chance there. The Counselor's mother
|
|
was not who she would have chosen as a teacher, but at least life with her
|
|
would not be unpleasent. Etain had had a lifetime of fear, of hiding, of
|
|
enforced ignorance. She never wanted to experience those things again.
|
|
|
|
With a peculiar sense of exhilaration, she began to dance, a simple, childhood
|
|
dance, remembering the songs the fiarsain had sung for them so long ago. She
|
|
danced until she got dizzy, and laughing silently, let herself fall, winded,
|
|
onto the couch. A drawing ache bloomed in her stomach. Was she hungry? She
|
|
thought for a moment about using the machine which made food, but could not
|
|
think of anything she wanted. A trickle of something mahogany snaked down
|
|
her inner thigh. She stared at it blankly, and realized suddenly what it was.
|
|
|
|
Panic gripped her, and she tried to gather her wits enough to go inside, to
|
|
find what was wrong, then it came to her that nothing was wrong. Hadn't
|
|
Lwaxana told her? Peace returned, and she started to smile again. She would
|
|
not fear it. She would welcome it. She thought hard to remember what Mhaiv
|
|
and Briit had told her about the ceremonies which attended the event. It had
|
|
been a long time, and she hadn't paid much attention at the time, but one thing
|
|
she did recall; it was a thing only for women. Still smiling, she reached out.
|
|
|
|
__Lwaxana, Deanna, Guinan? Are you there?__
|
|
|
|
A moment later, somewhat startled assurances came to her. Lwaxana must have
|
|
sensed that moment of fear, for her thoughts were tinged with concern.
|
|
|
|
__Are you alright, child? Are you well?__
|
|
|
|
__I am well, I am alright, but I am no longer a child. The Mother has touched
|
|
me, finally. Will you come, and celebrate with me?__
|
|
|
|
The Counselor seemed puzzled, but Guinan knew. Etain could almost feel her
|
|
smile.
|
|
|
|
__Of course we will! In fact, we'll bring along Beverly and Kadin Sho, too, if
|
|
that's alright.__
|
|
|
|
__I would like that.__
|
|
|
|
__Wait, I don't understand.__ Deanna protested. __What are we celebrating?__
|
|
|
|
Etain sensed a quick exchange between Lwaxana and her daughter, felt Deanna's
|
|
startled comprehension, quickly followed by gladness.
|
|
|
|
__I didn't realize you were not... though I should have. I will come,
|
|
certainly. Congratulations!__
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Data was on his way to engineering to meet with Commander LaForge about his
|
|
experimental sensor modifications when he stopped, tilting his head slightly to
|
|
one side, listening intently. Someone was singing in the corridor. To be more
|
|
precise, several someones, all female, judging from the pitch. The singing was
|
|
accompanied by a rhythmic repetition of a hollow 'doum' sound, and a lot of
|
|
laughter. He was puzzled. Listening grew easier as the singers approached, he
|
|
still could not see them, but he could hear them. He recognized the language
|
|
as Betazoid, but was unable to translate the meaning of the words, as some were
|
|
pronounced in a slurred fashion which made them difficult to decipher.
|
|
|
|
The singers appeared from around a corner. Lwaxana Troi was in the lead,
|
|
tapping on a small, wasp-waisted drum, followed by Etain, then Counselor Troi,
|
|
Guinan, and finally Doctor Crusher. Etain wore what appeared to be leaves in
|
|
her hair, and was swathed in a garment which bore a startling resemblance to a
|
|
bed-sheet. The entire group was flushed of face and grinning. He detected
|
|
alcohol molecules in the air as they approached, alcohol, not synthehol. They
|
|
were not just singing, they were dancing, or attempting to. Their efforts were
|
|
somewhat uncoordinated. Deanna waved at Data as they passed him, and continued
|
|
in their odd behavior, bursting into even louder laughter once past him. He
|
|
stared after them, puzzled, until they disappeared around another curve, heading
|
|
in the general direction of Holodeck Three. Deciding he was not going to be
|
|
able to make sense out of their behavior with what little information he had,
|
|
he turned and moved on.
|
|
|
|
Rounding the corner from which the group had emerged, he came face-to-face
|
|
with the Captain, staring back in the direction from which Data had just come
|
|
with a rather bemused expression on his face. Data felt safe in assuming that
|
|
the reason for his bemusement was probably the same as his own. He stopped,
|
|
waited a moment for the Captain to register his presence, then proceeded with
|
|
his question.
|
|
|
|
"Captain, if I may ask, what..."
|
|
|
|
The Captain interrupted, shaking his head. "I have absolutely no idea. None
|
|
at all."
|
|
|
|
"Oh. I see." Data had learned that was the appropriate response in such a
|
|
situation, even if one didn't really see at all.
|
|
|
|
Picard chuckled. "Sometimes, Mr. Data, human behavior is incomprehensible
|
|
even to other humans. Let it rest."
|
|
|
|
"Aye sir. Thank you."
|
|
|
|
"For what?" Picard asked, rhetorically it seemed, as he turned and walked away.
|
|
|
|
Data pondered the incident for a moment longer, then filed it for future
|
|
reference and continued on his way.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Epilogue
|
|
|
|
Picard glanced up as the lift doors opened, and nodded slightly, acknowledging
|
|
Deanna Troi's presence on the bridge. She smiled back broadly, obviously
|
|
pleased about something. She seated herself, arranging her azure skirt to her
|
|
liking, then turned toward him.
|
|
|
|
"I received some news from my mother today, Captain, I thought you might like
|
|
to hear it."
|
|
|
|
He lifted an eyebrow sardonically. "I take it she has decided we are not her
|
|
favorite vacation spot after all?"
|
|
|
|
Deanna laughed, and shook her head. "No, the news isn't that good, I'm afraid.
|
|
No, this actually doesn't really concern my mother, but rather Etain."
|
|
|
|
Picard sat up a little straighter, immediately interested. "Yes? How is she?"
|
|
|
|
"She's fine, doing extremely well, in fact. The private tutors mother hired
|
|
have been very pleased with her progress, and her therapist also reports that
|
|
she is making headway. All in all, she is far ahead of where they thought she
|
|
would be by now. But more importantly, the trial ended two days ago."
|
|
|
|
Picard's smile faded. "And?" he prompted.
|
|
|
|
Deanna's expresssion grew serious. "Jaron Kelssohn was convicted on all counts.
|
|
Davan Delvekia was convicted of conspiracy, and several other offenses, though
|
|
not so many as Kelssohn. A few others were indicted and convicted as well,
|
|
though apparently most of the original conspirators are now dead. Surprisingly,
|
|
Etain requested that they be treated leniently, apparently because she feels
|
|
their behavior was psionically influenced. They've all been recommended for
|
|
extended rehabilitation on Oranos Five."
|
|
|
|
Picard shook his head, frowning. "It seems so little, when one considers the
|
|
magnitude of what they did there. Did they ever explain why they did it?"
|
|
|
|
Deanna sighed. "Not to anyone's satisfaction, Kelssohn just keeps on with the
|
|
usual nonsense about not wanting to lose the colony. We know from what Etain
|
|
told us that Coran Delvekia was psionically talented, and that his father was
|
|
terrified of psi-users, and fanatical in condemning them. If he found that his
|
|
own son was talented, he would no doubt have stuck out at him. A child forced
|
|
into that kind of fear and self-loathing could not help but be mentally
|
|
unstable, fearing and rejecting his gifts. He may have seen in the Rua'Shi a
|
|
threat of exposure, as well as fundamentally jealous of their open use of their
|
|
gifts. He may unconsciously have used his own talent to gain influence, and to
|
|
manipulate others into helping him obliterate the Rua'Shi, thus eliminating
|
|
what he perceived as a threat to his own safety."
|
|
|
|
Picard scowled. "I cannot believe a parent would..." he began, then hesitated
|
|
and shook his head. "No, I suppose I can, though one would hope that they would
|
|
not. If it's true, it was not entirely Delvekia's fault that he became what he
|
|
did. That explains Etain's reaction to his death more clearly. She must feel
|
|
dreadful."
|
|
|
|
Deanna tilted her head slightly to one side as she gazed at him, alerting him
|
|
to the fact that she was puzzled by his behavior. "You could ask her. It's
|
|
not as if we don't know how to contact her. She and mother leave for Betazed
|
|
within the week. Mother says Etain is very well, and looking forward to
|
|
attending classes at the Reiks Academy."
|
|
|
|
Picard's eyebrows lifted. "The Reiks Academy? Isn't that a little advanced for
|
|
someone with only six months of formal schooling?"
|
|
|
|
"Apparently not. Mother informs me that Etain passed the entrance examination
|
|
in record time. It appears she's put that auto-learning technique she and Wes
|
|
developed to good use."
|
|
|
|
"So it does." He stared off at nothing for a moment, then turned his attention
|
|
back toward her. "Did she mention what decisions were made about the
|
|
Preserver site, the city, or about the possibility of cloning from the
|
|
preserved genetic material?"
|
|
|
|
Deanna nodded. "As the last surviving Rua'Shi, Etain has complete control over
|
|
all Rua'Shi holdings, however she has agreed to allow Federation scientists
|
|
full access to Dhara and the Preserver complex, for as long as she sees fit.
|
|
She has not yet decided on the genetic material, and has placed it in
|
|
Federation safekeeping, with the proviso that no one is to experiment with it.
|
|
She does not yet feel it time to make a final decision."
|
|
|
|
He nodded. "I understand. It must be very difficult for her. It seems oddly
|
|
coincidental that you should receive word now. Last night I was looking for my
|
|
copy of Tacan Elidaz' Eilor, when I found Etain's book there, the one which had
|
|
her name-story in it. I didn't even know it was there, until now. A gift, I
|
|
suppose, though it seems odd that she didn't mention it."
|
|
|
|
Deanna eyed him, thoughtfully. "Mmm. Interesting."
|
|
|
|
Picard rolled his eyes and sighed in exasperation. "Did you know that you
|
|
sound exactly like Guinan when you say that?"
|
|
|
|
"Do I?" Deanna asked mock-innocently. "I wonder why?"
|
|
|
|
Not deigning to reply, Picard turned back toward the viewscreen with its
|
|
uninterrupted view of space, a thoughtful frown creasing his forehead. The
|
|
Counselor decided that discretion was the better part of valor, and settled
|
|
back to enjoy the view as well.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
Etain stood at the viewplate and watched the stars shift and stream away as the
|
|
ship traveled. She smiled a little, remembering a time not-so-long gone when
|
|
such a view would have terrified her. Now, it drew her, distracting her from
|
|
the task at hand, ostensibly helping Lwaxana try to decide which of her myriad
|
|
gowns to wear for their arrival on Betazed. Mostly, though, her thoughts were
|
|
as far from such matters as the stars she watched. For over half a year she
|
|
had been in a kind of stasis, waiting for the trial to be over. Now that it
|
|
was, the sudden freedom felt strange. She was free, the Federation jurors had
|
|
decided her killing of Coran Delvekia fell under self-defense, despite what she
|
|
felt were damning indications to the contrary. She had not held back, had told
|
|
them what she had done, and why, yet still, they had declined to convict her.
|
|
What recompense she could make for having killed him, she would have to decide
|
|
for herself. Perhaps they had sensed that what she chose would be more than
|
|
they would have imposed on her. They had been more than fair, startlingly so.
|
|
She was now the guardian of her people's future... or lack thereof. Not that
|
|
she wanted that responsibility, but as the last of her kind, they had thought
|
|
it appropriate. She was not ready yet to take up that burden, though. She
|
|
needed time, she needed freedom. First.
|
|
|
|
She thought about all the stories Lwaxana had told her about Betazed. If only
|
|
half of them were true, she would surely enjoy life there, but knew she could
|
|
not stay there forever. Not only could she not remain indebted to Lwaxana so
|
|
long, but there were too many worlds she had never seen. During the months of
|
|
waiting she had learned something about herself. More than anything else, she
|
|
needed to know. Not just to learn what she could from books, or the minds of
|
|
beings who were willing to share their knowing with her. She wanted to know
|
|
firsthand, to discover for herself. That she could not do confined to one
|
|
world.
|
|
|
|
She wanted to see the bronze sky and feel the heat of the Second Home, the world
|
|
called Vulcan. She wanted to see the vast oceans and green continents of the
|
|
First Home, Earth. After that, she would learn as many worlds as she could,
|
|
their ways, their philosophies, their visions. Only then might she be wise
|
|
enough to make the decision that haunted her dreams. The fate of her people
|
|
lay in her hands, in her body. She could not take that duty lightly. It
|
|
required wisdom, and that was only gained through experience.
|
|
|
|
Wisdom. The word conjured three people immediately. Mhaiv, Guinan, and Picard.
|
|
She wondered if she would ever have that sort of wisdom. Thinking of Picard and
|
|
Guinan made her wonder where the sleek silver form of the Enterprise glided now,
|
|
what distant, fascinating place did she explore? That way of life called to
|
|
her, she could see herself aboard such a ship, among such people, but was it
|
|
because of her need to know, or because of the emotional ties she felt to the
|
|
inhabitants that ship? She did not know that either, yet. In time, she would
|
|
know, and decide. Decisions always required time.
|
|
|
|
Finally, she felt Lwaxana's intense dark gaze on her and looked up to find her
|
|
foster-mother watching her quietly, a gown held, forgotten, in her hands.
|
|
|
|
__Are you well, little one?__ she queried, gently.
|
|
|
|
Etain smiled slightly. __Yes, I am well. I was thinking of what is to come.
|
|
There is so much to learn, yet, despite all I have already learned.__
|
|
|
|
__Yes, there is. You are very wise, to know that.__
|
|
|
|
Etain was startled. She had just been thinking about wisdom... After a moment,
|
|
she shook her head. __You must stop 'listening' without permission, my
|
|
mother.__
|
|
|
|
Lwaxana wrinkled her nose disdainfully. __Where's the fun in that? Come now,
|
|
you're far too serious tonight. Will you play for me?__
|
|
|
|
Hiding a smile, Etain opened the pouch which hung from her belt, and took out
|
|
her flute. It had arrived one day, during the waiting, addressed to her, with
|
|
no sender's name attached, but she had known instantly whose gift it was.
|
|
There was only one person who knew what it would mean to her, and what it
|
|
should look like. Lwaxana had looked at her askance when she had received it,
|
|
but for once had not pried. The red-gold wood gleamed in the light as Etain
|
|
rubbed her fingers absently over the carved interlace that ran down its spine
|
|
and encircled the finger-holes, then lifted it to her lips and began to play.
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
______________________________________________________________________________
|
|
copyright 1992, Kellie Matthews-Simmons
|
|
matthews_k@cubldr.colorado.edu//matthewk@spot.colorado.edu
|
|
all rights reserved
|
|
|
|
Standard Disclaimers Apply
|
|
|