Текст книги "Over a Torrent Sea "

Автор книги: Christopher Bennett

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But Tuvok was relentless. “It is not just your fear for your child that is influencing Ree. It is your fear of him. Subconsciously, you resent him for letting one child die and threatening another. As long as that resentment is within you, you are projecting it onto him. Filling him with the perception of himself as a potential child-killer.”

“ No!” Ree cried.

“Yes, Doctor! You prove my point. Do you see, Counselor? To his instincts as a Pahkwa-thanh male, that is intolerable. He is driven to prove himself a worthy caregiver—to prove to you and to himself that he will not let your child down again. As long as your resentment is still inside you, he cannot be free of it—and you cannot be free of him.”

He felt her struggling with it, denying it. “No, Tuvok. No, Ree, I don’t resent you. It was months ago.”

“It was no longer ago than the death of my son,” Tuvok told her. “And that still burns in me as fiercely as ever. That is why I understand the anger and blame you must hold within yourself. Because when a parent loses a child, we need to blame someone. We need to blame the person responsible for their loss.”

He paused, having trouble controlling his voice. This was difficult for him. But it had to be done. “You yourself told me, Counselor…we cannot let go of our anger until we identify its real target. I know now what you were trying to get me to confess. That I…” He glanced over at his team, reluctant to expose himself to them like this. But he saw only trust and support in their eyes. “That I blame Elieth for his own death. That I am angry at him for making the choice that took him from me. Angry at him for causing his mother to endure loss.

“I am ashamed of myself for feeling that. But you sensed it in me, and knew it was important that I face it. If that is so, then you must do the same. As long as we are in denial about our anger, neither of us can let it go.”

He was breathing hard, as though he’d just sprinted up a mountain. He could feel her turning inward, searching her soul. But for a time, there was no sound. He wasn’t sure if he’d done any good. If not, he had humiliated himself in front of his team for nothing.

But then he felt a hesitant pat on his shoulder. He glanced back to see Krotine there. “Whether it works or not, sir,” she whispered, “that was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Deanna wept at the surge of emotion coming from Tuvok as he confessed his anger. The flavor of it was agonizingly familiar. She remembered how Counselor Haaj had elicited a similar confession from her, months ago: that she was angry at her first child for leaving her. That she had been afraid to admit it, to face it, because it made her feel horrible about herself. But Haaj had helped her understand, as she had tried to help Tuvok see in turn, that it was a natural, forgivable part of the grieving process.

Yet now Tuvok forced her to confront the possibility that she had not exorcised all her anger after all. Even as she drank in his catharsis, she was compelled to look inward and examine her own soul.

Ree was coming toward her, hands spread placatingly. “Counselor…Deanna…please. You must know I have your child’s best interests at heart.”

“Yes,” she told him, her voice rough, its tone warning him to stop. “I know that. But there’s what I know, and there’s what I feel.

“You can’t know, Doctor. You try so hard to prove yourself, to go through the motions of a caregiver. But you’ve never had a child, never lost a child of your own. You can’t imagine what that does to a parent. Even just once. And to be told it has to happen a second time…

“God, yes, I was angry. Angry at you. Angry at the baby for leaving me alone again. Angry at Will, angry at myself for letting it happen to another child. Angry at the whole damn universe for putting me through this!”

Ree had lowered his head. “I thought…you had forgiven me.”

“So did I. But that pain, it stays with you. And the anger. And the fear.

“The fear, Doctor. Do you have any idea? You attackedme. Back on New Erigol, you told me you wanted to end my baby’s life, and then you attacked me. You bitme!”

“I injected you with venom to slow a life-threatening hemorrhage.”

“That doesn’t change how it felt, Doctor! You joke about how dangerous you are, tease others about their fear of you, but you can’t imagine what it’s like to feel like your prey!

“My God, Doctor!” she went on, her voice growing louder with each sentence. “How could you think I could evertrust you to care for my child after that? How could you imagine you could take me hostage, terrorize a whole hospital, and somehow prove to me my baby will be safe with you?!”

“I willkeep her safe! Always!”

“ No!” she screamed. “You can’t have her! I won’t let you take my baby from me!” This was not the hysterical rage she had met him with in her delirium on New Erigol. This was the self-possessed fury and determination of a loving mother. “This is mychild, and I will give birth to her where I wish, raise her how I wish. And Iwill keep her safe, Ree. Safe from anyone who would hurt her—safe from anyone who would take her from me. Including you!”

For a long moment, Ree was silent, gazing downward, breaths rasping slowly in and out. She couldn’t tell if he was chastened or furious; her own emotions were too chaotic at the moment, her hormones on overload. Finally, he raised his head. “Counselor…”

But at that moment, her insides convulsed and she felt hot wetness spilling onto her thighs. “Oh, my God,” Alyssa gasped. “Doctor, her water just broke.”

The contraction worsened, growing more painful until she moaned aloud. “It hurts!”

Alyssa was at her side. “You’re too tense. You need to breathe, Deanna.” She glanced over at Ree, who stood taut, ready to act, but keeping his distance. “Deanna, you need the doctor.”

Once the contraction subsided, she met his eyes, trying to control her breathing. “The baby is mine,” she said.

“Yes,” he replied.

“You know how I feel now.”

“…Yes.”

She held his gaze. “Do your job, Doctor. Prove yourself.”

His tension eased. “Yes. Thank you, Counselor.”

As he moved forward, a throat cleared. The Lumbuan nurses had come forward, the senior nurse at the head of the group. “We can assist,” she said. “Doctor.”

Ree studied them. “You would help a monster?”

The senior nurse fidgeted. “Monsters have babies too, it turns out. And we help babies.”

“Very well,” he said, not wasting time. “Prep for delivery and begin sterilizing the necessary equipment.”

The nurse paused. “Is there anything…different…I need to know about?”

“Nothing of substance. Your experience should serve.”

“Counselor!” Tuvok called from outside.

“Tuvok!” Deanna called back. “The baby’s coming! You can come in!”

“I appreciate the invitation, but I must decline. According to our signal intercepts, the local police have discovered the officer we incapacitated upon our entrance, and are preparing to storm the facility in response.”

“Tuvok, don’t let them get near her! Protect my baby!”

“That is what we all wish, Counselor. We shall protect her. You have my word.”

“Yes,” Ree said. “We will all protect her.”

“I know,” Deanna said. Right now, they all shared a single priority: the safe delivery of the child inside her.

But what would happen afterward?

CHAPTER F

IFTEEN

TITAN

Ra-Havreii was surprised when Melora came to see him in engineering. “Commander,” he said with wary civility.

“Commander,” she replied. “I, ah, need your help.” His brow rose, and she continued. “Cethente and Kesi have developed a particle field that can neutralize the disruptive charge in the asteroid dust. We’ve exposed samples of the dust to the field and achieved a total dissipation of the stored energy.”

“Excellent,” he said. “What’s the problem?”

“Deployment. Titan’s main deflector can project the field from orbit to deal with the dust in the stratosphere, but reaching the deep ocean is another matter.”

“Yes, I see,” he said, speaking over her last word. “The most practical way would be to replicate a series of deep-sea probes that can descend to the dynamo layer and permeate it with the field. The techniques we used on Cethente’s pod should serve to protect them from the pressure.”

Melora stared. “But that would take hundreds of thousands of probes. The dynamo layer has a volume of over thirty billion cubic kilometers, and the field can only penetrate so much water!”

“The probes can move through the dynamo layer, each one covering a fair swath over time.”

“But they might only last a few hours each at those pressures.”

“Yes, we’d need redundancy. But we could make do with maybe a thousand. The industrial replicators should be up to it. And we can always harvest the asteroid field for extra raw materials.”

“Deploying a thousand probes would take every available hand we could spare! It’d take days!”

“Have you got a pressing appointment somewhere else? I’m sure Commander Vale would be happy to leave this world to its doom so you don’t have to be inconvenienced.”

Her gaze hardened. “Oh, don’t start with me now, Xin. This isn’t the time.”

“ Iam being entirely professional. Unlike you, we Efrosians have the knack for objectivity toward our sexual liaisons.”

“Says the man who said he loved me!”

Everyone close enough to hear—meaning everyone in engineering, for she had said it rather loudly—turned to stare at them. Refusing to acknowledge their distraction, Ra-Havreii pulled the Elaysian into his office, her light build and antigrav suit making her almost weightless. She didn’t resist, though. Once they were in private, he pointed angrily and opened his mouth. “I—”

After a moment, she crossed her arms. “You?”

“Well, you said it too.”

“I did.”

“It was the heat of the moment. The distress. Look, we really should get back to these probes—”

“Xin, what are you so afraid of?”

There was no hostility in it. Her emotional armor fell before his eyes. This proud, defensive woman had left herself vulnerable to him by choice. In response, he felt his own guard falling away. “Isn’t it obvious?” he said.

“That we love each other?”

“Yes! I—I never expected that to happen. I don’t know how to deal with it. I’m not ready for…for that.”

She frowned. “For what, Xin? I thought Efrosian men didn’t form commitments.”

“Well, no, it’s—Just because we don’t pair-bond for child-rearing doesn’t mean we don’t form emotional bonds. We just consider them something separate from parenting. An Efrosian female has the support of her entire community in raising her children. That can include male lovers, although generally not the seed donor.” He shrugged. “Our society evolved in difficult conditions, with a limited population. That made it necessary for males to father each child with a different mate, to maximize gene pool diversity. It’s a matter of necessity. It doesn’t mean we’re incapable of emotional commitment.”

Melora was silent for a time. “So are you saying…you want to commit with me?”

“No! I mean…I don’t know. Don’t you?”

“Is that what you think?”

“You said you love me.”

“I do.”

“And your people…you docommit.”

“Usually,” she confirmed.

He tried to think of something clever to say, but all that came out was, “I’m afraid to. I don’t think I’m ready.”

Melora took his hand and smiled. “What makes you think I am?”

His eyes widened. “But…what we said…”

She nodded. “I love you. You love me. Isn’t that enough?” She moved closer. “We’ve been fighting because we’ve both been afraid of the same thing: that being in love meant having to escalate things, to make a commitment. But why mess with a good thing? If we’re both happy just…being together, having good times together, then why can’t that be what love means to us?” She kissed him. “This ship is all about embracing different ways of living and being. So why force ourselves to conform to some set of expectations about what being in love requires? Let’s make it what wewant it to be.”

He thought it over for a few moments, then nodded. “All right. Let’s do that.” He felt relief wash over him. They were comfortable together again, and that was what he wanted most of all.

“Great.” She smiled. “I love you, Xin.”

He kissed her, taking his time. “I love you, Melora.”

After a moment, he let her go, fidgeting a bit. “I…suppose we should get back to work on those probes.”

She blinked a few times and cleared her throat. “Uhh, right. Right behind you.”

They both took a moment to gather themselves, then came back out into engineering, totally professional, their eyes daring the crew to be anything else. But then Melora moved close and spoke softly. “You know…if most of the crew’s going to be down on Droplet, covering the planet’s surface systematically…maybe we’ll find the captain and Aili while we’re at it.”

He nodded. “I’m sure we’ll all be looking.”

After all, there was more than one kind of loving relationship. And Captain Riker and Counselor Troi deserved to have theirs restored.

DROPLET

By now, Aili herself was starting to feel the effects of malnutrition. She was weakening, unable to swim as far without needing rest. She knew matters must be far worse for Riker at this point—and would get far worse for her before long.

We can’t rely onTitan finding us,she thought. The life-pod transformation may be our only hope.If anything, she was starting to look forward to the prospect of beginning a new life with the squales. She felt she had grown close to Alos, Gasa, Melo, and others in the contact pod, and knew she would be safe with them. And she enjoyed their company—enjoyed communing with aquatic beings who didn’t judge her (at least not by the same standards she used in judging herself). The squales were a beautiful people, and even their most idle conversation was a symphony. She would gladly spend the rest of her life mastering the intricacies of their song.

As for her more carnal needs, the squales were rather casual about sex play, not unlike aquatic Selkies, and she was sure she could engage in some interesting experimentation with them. But she would be better off having another humanoid to keep her company.

The thought made her feel guilty, but a part of her countered, It’s a matter of cruel necessity. The change would take weeks; even ifTitan is still up there looking for us, we’d be out of their reach long enough for them to give up. And there’d be no going back anyway. The only way to save Will’s life might be to let the others think we’re dead. And then we’dhave to learn to…live together. We’d need each other…like it or not. He’d hate me for a while, but he’d have to come around.

But she didn’t want him to wake up and find that this had been done to him. That would make it far harder for him to adjust—or to forgive her. Better if she could persuade him to accept the change willingly. She quailed at the thought, knowing how he would react. Oh, how I wish he spoke better Selkie. Then the squales could be the ones to convince him.

She had no choice, though. As much as she would have preferred to avoid it, Aili had to be the one to convince Riker to stay here—to abandon his family and spend the rest of his life here with her. So much for not making him think I’m a homewrecker.

Aili put it off as long as she could, rehearsing what she could say, trying to figure out how to cast the argument in the most convincing, unselfish terms possible. Eventually, though, her own fatigue and nausea convinced her that Riker couldn’t afford to wait much longer. So she went to his islet, still having no idea what to say.

When she reached the islet, though, Riker failed to respond to her calls. Bracing herself, she climbed out onto the solid surface and jogged to Riker’s cave.

She gasped when she saw him. He lay sprawled, unmoving save for tremors, his breathing shallow. “Captain!” she cried, running to his side. At her touch, he moaned, but that was all. He was burning with fever. She registered an unpleasant smell; gingerly pulling his leaf-blankets aside, she saw that he was lying in his own filth, unable to move enough to tend to his basic needs. Two of the squales’ helper creatures were nearby, but they were agitated, keeping their distance. Aili realized the disruption in the Song was throwing them off, preventing them from fulfilling their duties. The others must have wandered off or perhaps been taken by predators.

Aili winced in sympathy at the sight of Riker, and though her kind did not shed tears, she keened for him. She cradled his head in her lap, stroking his hair. “Sir, can you hear me?” she said softly. “There’s a way to save you. Please, I need to tell you about it.”

But he gave no response beyond another feeble groan. Aili’s first thought was to take him to the squales. She pulled at him, trying to lift him up enough to lead him to the water. He was practically a dead weight, but swimming kept her strong and he’d lost several kilos, so she was able to pull him mostly upright and drag him forward, his weight on her shoulders.

When she reached the shore, however, she didn’t summon the squales. Instead, she simply lowered Riker into the water to cool his fever and cleanse his skin of sweat and other things. She hurried back inland to get some fresh water from the small pond, soaking it up in a spongy leaf. ( Idiot! You could have brought him here!she thought, before responding to herself, Idiot! And foul his drinking water?) Returning to Riker, she dribbled it into his mouth. Once he’d been rehydrated, she used the leaf to clean him. It was embarrassing to do this with her captain, but it was nothing she hadn’t dealt with many times with her eight children. Though at the time, she had retreated from such duties whenever she could finagle a relative into taking them over for her.

But not now. At first, she wasn’t sure why she was tending to Riker in this way instead of letting the squales remake him and remove the need. But the more she tended to him, the more she understood. “I’m sorry, Captain,” she told him as she wrapped him in new leaf-blankets, this time near the shore so she could stay close. “Sorry I left you to go through this alone. I was selfish, and childish.” The truth was, she couldn’tsimply fob him off onto others as she had so often done with her own children. She’d been the one to let him deteriorate into this state. And so it was her responsibility to help him through it.

And so she took care of him. Over the next several hours, she kept him hydrated, fed him what he could keep down, wiped away what he could not, kept him wrapped in leaves to stay warm, changed his leaves, and cleaned him when the need arose. When he awoke halfway, he ranted in delirium about being locked in a pit in the darkness. He screamed curses at “Kinchawn,” and Aili realized he was flashing back to an ordeal on Tezwa before his promotion to captain. The curses soon gave way to pleas; he begged to be allowed to see his wife and his baby girl. “My girl,” he sobbed. “Deanna! I’m with you! Please, tell me you know I’m with you. I should be there, I should…hold…hand…be there to…see her…come out…help you…I’m sorry!” He broke down sobbing, and Aili held him and stroked his hair. She eased him closer to the water, lay with her back to it, her gills trailing in the shallows, so she could continue to comfort him.

Why did I ever run away from this with my own children?she found herself wondering. Why did I think I couldn’t do this?She had rarely felt such a sense of purpose. Rarely been so fulfilled.

In time, Riker became lucid again—still weak, but able to respond coherently. “Thank you” was the first thing he said to her.

“I’m sorry” was the first thing she replied.

“Unhhh…forget it.” He tried to roll around to face her. She helped him to sit up at the water’s edge and stepped back a few paces to crouch in the shallows, resting on the submerged outer curve of the islet, while she faced him. “What’s…the situation?” he asked her.

She filled him in on the basics, including the squales’ offer. “I see,” Riker said when she was done. “You think we should take it?”

Aili lowered her eyes. “I did. But not now.”

“Why not?”

It was several moments before she spoke. “You remember what you asked me before? Why I joined Starfleet if I was so ashamed of my affairs with offworlders?”

He showed no confusion at the non sequitur, perhaps simply being too weak to muster it. “Uh-huh.”

“I always told myself it was about responsibility. That it was a way to make up for being so irresponsible as a mother. I’d used the galaxy as a distraction from my duties, so maybe giving something back to the galaxy would even the scales. Or something like that.”

“But that’s not it?”

She gave a small shake of her head. Again, a long silence preceded her next words. “When I was young…my sister Miana was out swimming with our mother and Miana’s father when…she was taken by a sea predator. Such things still happen on Pacifica…even with modern technology, an ocean is a big, wild place, hard to tame. It’s one reason we need such large families.”

“I’m sorry.”

“So was I. And I was angry. I loved Miana so much, and I blamed Mom for letting her die. For not protecting her like she was supposed to.” She winced at the memory of the pain in her mother’s face as she’d cursed her—the grief, as strong as her own, that she’d ignored. “So as I grew up…when she tried to teach me the values of good parenting that are so important to amphibious Selkies…I didn’t find it credible, considering the source. I tuned them out, rebelled against her lessons. Miana’s father left, of course, and other fathers came and went, but I wasn’t willing to trust any of them either.

“I didn’t even want to become a mother, but I’d tuned out my parents’ lessons in responsible sex too, so I kind of ended up getting parenting thrust upon me. And I wasn’t ready. I didn’t know how to cope. And…” She leaned back in the water, immersing more of her gills—in essence, taking a deep breath before going on. “And I was afraid. I didn’t admit it, but I was afraid of being just as bad a mother as I thought my own was. I didn’t trust myself to take care of my children. So I retreated. As often as I could, I left my kids in the care of relatives, friends, anyone. And I lost myself in the kind of self-indulgence we’re supposed to save for our aquatic phase—that’s supposed to be a well-earned reward for two decades of devoted parenting. I played, I danced, I drank, and I had sex with aliens who didn’t know our customs or didn’t care.”

Riker studied her. “Why have more children, then?”

“Because I couldn’t completely get away from my social obligations. And because I preferred taking the easy way out. It was easier to go along with the pressure to take more mates and then foist the babies off on family than to try to stay unattached.” She smirked. “Besides, I liked sex with Selkie men too. I attracted a lot of desirable partners. My affairs with offworlders made me seem alluringly experienced…mature. And some men like ‘bad girls.’

“And maybe, eventually, it became about trying to mend my reputation. I got tired of being the butt of everyone’s gossip and dirty looks, wanted to prove I could do the respectable thing. But I still didn’t trust myself to be a good mother, so I still ran from my responsibilities.”

“So is that why you left?” Riker asked. “To get away from everyone’s judgment?”

She shook her head. “All I had to do for that was wait for my amphibious phase to end. Aquatics lead the kind of uninhibited life I was already leading on land. They don’t judge much.”

Riker’s eyes widened. “You mean you left before you…changed?” He gestured to indicate her current physiological state.

“Not long before. A couple of years. And it could’ve come on me at any time.”

He narrowed his eyes, discerning what lay behind her words. “You wanted to leave Pacifica before it happened.”

She nodded. “I told myself I’d be bored as a mature aquatic. It would just be more of the same thing I’d been doing for twenty years, but with less variety and less…spice. Because it would be normal and accepted. No more ‘bad girl’, just blending in with the group. We call it a sepkinalorian…I think the closest Standard concept would be a face in the crowd, except it’s more of a party than a crowd. I liked to joke to myself that it was a kind of drudgework, a ‘job’ I was happy to have avoided.

“But really, I guess I didn’t think I deserved the life of a mature aquatic. I hadn’t earned it. They wouldn’t have judged me, but I was judging myself, whether I admitted it or not.”

“So you cast yourself out of paradise.”

She tilted her head. “You could say that. I signed up with Starfleet, and I told everyone it was so I could give something back, make up for my selfish life. I even convinced myself.

“But I think I understand now—I was still running away. Leaving home was a way to avoid facing the real root of my problems. To avoid facing my mother…and my memories.”

She straightened in the water. “Sir, I really am happy here. The squales have offered me something that would be an amazing adventure, and I’m grateful to them for that. But…it would still be running away. Hiding from my responsibilities.

“Well, I’m not going to do that anymore, sir. You’re my captain, and I have a duty to you. If you’re convinced Titanand Commander Troi are still out there, then I trust you. And we just have to make sure we find them and get you back together with your family.” She lowered her eyes. “It’s too late for me to get back the time I lost with my children. I’m not going to let you lose out on yours.”

Riker gave her a slow, heartfelt smile. “Thank you, Aili.”

LUMBU

“She’s beautiful,” Nurse Mawson said as Deanna cradled her newborn daughter in her arms.

“Even without a clarfel,” Nurse Hewton added, but Mawson shushed him.

The delivery had been very smooth, ironically an anti-climax after all the melodrama leading up to it. Deanna’s Caeliar-restored physique had proved robust enough to handle the delivery with relatively little difficulty; the intense exertion of labor had been more euphoric for her than painful. Ree had done his part with total professionalism, but there really hadn’t been much he needed to do. As for Tuvok and his team, they had frightened off the local police with little difficulty; a few phaser stuns and a few roars from Hriss and Dennisar had been enough to overwhelm their courage.

And now she had the most beautiful creature in the universe in her arms, and the only way she’d be happier was if Will had been here to see it. But she knew, deep in her soul, that he was alive, and during the arduous euphoria of the birth, she had felt his essence touching her, reaching out to her. It had been distant, the barest thread, and the psychologist in her recognized that the perception could have been a memory, a hope, a piece of herself reflecting him. But her heart knew.

Now that matters were calm, Deanna found her gaze turning to Ree. Tuvok was now in the room, standing near Ree, watching him carefully. Alyssa had subtly interposed herself between Ree and the baby, just in case. It was unimaginable that her dainty frame could slow him for even a second, but there she stood nonetheless, and it was very reassuring.

“Doctor?” Deanna asked, not needing to put the next thought into words: Now what?

Ree made a noise akin to throat-clearing. “Ah. Counselor. Yes.” Another rumble. “I, um…Upon reflection, it seems I have been somewhat…overzealous in my protectiveness. I…seem to be thinking more clearly now.” He gave a convulsive shake of his head. “I had not realized guardian mode was so…intense.”

“It may not be, as a rule,” she told him, sensing his sincerity and giving Tuvok a subtle nod to that effect. He remained wary, however. “What I was broadcasting to you…my anger, my resentment…it must have been difficult for you.”

Tuvok raised a brow. “Then you believe that releasing your repressed anger has brought about a resolution?”

She gave a wry grin. “It’s never that simple, Tuvok. I…have a lot to talk out with Ree yet, and a lot to work out within myself. Honestly, it may have been my euphoria from the delivery,” she said, gazing down lovingly at her daughter, “that counteracted the effect. Or maybe the sheer intensity of the experience overloaded Ree’s empathic reception.”

“Or maybe,” Ree said, looking as sheepish as a raptor could, “you simply shouted some sense into my thick head. There can be value in rudeness…when wielded judiciously. Counselor, I am so sorry.”

“Ohh, let’s not start that again,” she urged him.

Mawson tentatively reached out and stroked the baby’s hand with a finger. Deanna smiled at the diminutive nurse. “Do you have a name in mind?” the Lumbuan asked.

“Well…”

“Excuse me,” Tuvok said. “Now that matters are in hand, we should not linger. The local military may arrive at any time. And we have caused enough disruption to this world.”

“Oh dear,” Ree said. “That’s right. I’ve violated the Prime Directive rather badly, haven’t I?”

“Indeed. I shall have to place you under arrest and take you back to Titanfor a hearing.”

“Tuvok,” Deanna protested, “he wasn’t responsible.”

“That, my dear Counselor, is for the hearing to decide,” Ree said. “The commander is quite right.”

As Krotine and Hriss helped Deanna to her feet (all while valiantly resisting the urge to coo and dote over the baby, as her empathic senses told her), Nurse Mawson said, “Are you taking her back to the spirit world?”

Deanna studied her. “Is that what you think we should do?”

Mawson puffed her clarfelin embarrassment. “It’s not my place to advise spirits on their ways. But we mortals are no proper caregivers for her kind. Best to keep the veils up between the worlds, I say.”

The new mother smiled. “Thank you, Mawson. We’re grateful for all your help. But we’d appreciate one more favor.”

The Lumbuan nodded sagely. “A spirit encounter should be a private thing. Isn’t that right?” she said sternly to the others, who nodded obediently.

Tuvok and his team led the others out into the halls, making their way to the exit. Dennisar had placed Ree in arm restraints and was watching him closely, though there was nothing to be done about the doctor’s mighty tail except to trust in his cooperation. Deanna could tell from his outward, drooped posture and his inward emotions that he was still abashed and concerned about the consequences of his Prime Directive breach. “I don’t think we’ve done any lasting damage to this world, Ree,” she reassured him. “As you heard, many of them still have a strong belief in animism. They’ll just accept us as a spirit manifestation of the kind they already believe in.”