“Maybe.” Aili sighed. “And they won’t let Chamish get close enough to get an empathic reading.”
“That wouldn’t really prove anything, though. If he couldn’t commune with them, it could be because they’re intelligent.” For some reason, Kazarite psi abilities only worked with subsapient animals; higher cognition interfered with them in some way Aili couldn’t understand. “Or it could be because of some other factor, like the way Betazoids can’t read Ferengi brains.”
“Too bad our most powerful empath is too pregnant to come down and get a read on them.”
Pazlar’s silence gave agreement. They stared at the stars a bit longer. “And if you’re right,” the Elaysian went on in time, “if the squales are sapient, then we’ve got a Prime Directive problem. We’d have to avoid further contact. In fact, I have to wonder if we should be erring on the side of caution—looking for ways to study them that don’t let them see or hear us.”
“Oh, that would be a shame. They’re so beautiful. The way their song resonates through me…I’d hate to have to observe them only from a distance, through a probe or something. Besides, with the sensor troubles we have down here, how could we study them remotely?”
“Well, Xin’s been talking about his mobile holoemitters. Maybe we could disguise some probes as holographic sea creatures.”
“And control them how?”
“Let them function autonomously and then return to base.”
“That’s so limited.”
“It might be all we can get.”
Aili let her head sink beneath the water for a moment, letting the immersion refresh her, then lifted it again so she could hear Pazlar’s speech clearly. “Doesn’t it frustrate you sometimes? Coming out here to meet new life forms, but having all these rules limiting how much contact we can make?”
“And how much damage would we do without those rules? Or how much damage might be done to us? Making contacts…connecting with other beings…you can’t be careless about it. Can’t let yourself get too close too fast…not until you’re sure it won’t hurt…somebody.”
Aili frowned. “Are you still talking about the Prime Directive? Or are you trying to give me some kind of relationship advice?”
“What?” Pazlar let out a brief, breathy laugh. “No, I’m sorry. Believe me, I’m the last person who’d have any meaningful insights about relationships.”
That drew a sympathetic look. “Did you and Xin have a fight? Ma’am?”
“I’m not even sure of that, really. And I don’t think I want to talk about it. Not unless you managed to glean the secret to understanding Xin Ra-Havreii during your past liaisons with him.”
“Umm, sorry. The main things I learned about him were physical and…logistical. He’s very creative, but I assume you know that.” Aili smiled. It actually wasn’t as hard for her to make love with an air-breathing partner as most people assumed; her quarters did have about sixty centimeters of air at the top, and she could function with her head—or other body parts—out of the water for a fair amount of time so long as most of her gills remained wet. Some of the maneuvering to keep her partner’s head above water could be strenuous, but the principle was straightforward. But she enjoyed playing up the sense of mystery involved, in order to make herself seem more impressive and intriguing to the rest of the crew—and to pique the curiosity of those who might like to try it for themselves. “That, and we talked a lot about language and music. We enjoyed connecting in body and mind, but the heart never came into it.”
Pazlar frowned. “I’m not sure if that makes me feel better or worse.”
“Because you’re worried he can’t love you?”
“No…because I’m worried he can. I’m not sure how I feel about being that…unique to him.”
Aili thought it over. “I don’t know if it’s my place to offer advice…”
“Go ahead. What the hell.”
“You’re better off letting him go. Letting him get back to being the man he is. He’s a theorist—he indulges his curiosity, but he doesn’t want to move out of his ivory tower. Maybe the right woman could make him into something more…but if you’re not sure you’re happy with the idea of him loving you, then it’s probably more trouble than it’s worth. There’s got to be someone better out there, if commitment is what you want. And if you’re just interested in having fun, well, sometimes it’s best to move on before things get stale and complicated.”
“Uh- huh,” Pazlar said at length. “Thanks for the input. I’ll give it the thought it deserves.”
Aili looked at her, but the Elaysian’s face gave nothing back. “Well, you asked.”
“I did.” After a moment, she smiled. “It’s okay. I appreciate the effort. It’s not your fault that I don’t have any answers yet.”
“Thank you.”
“Sure.”
They floated together in silence, gazing out at the stars. But soon Aili noticed something impinging on that silence, just barely at the edge of her awareness. “Wha…?” She ducked down beneath the roof of the sea, flipping upside-down, and listened for a moment. Soon she felt a tap on her ankle and looked up to see Pazlar looking down at her quizzically. She started to speak, but remembered the sound wouldn’t pass through the water-air interface well, so she surfaced. “I thought I heard something. Just a moment, please.” Pazlar nodded, and she dove back down, listening intently. Sure enough, there in the distance was a shrill sound—no, several overlapping sounds, piercing, rising in pitch, growing in loudness. She breached the surface once more and described what she’d heard. “It’s the squales, I think! It sounds like it might be a distress call. And they’re heading this way, a whole pod.”
Pazlar hit her combadge. “Pazlar to Gillespie. Lavena says she hears a pod of squales approaching. Anything on sensors?”