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.”