“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.”
“But spirits appearing in the flesh?” Krotine asked. “Having babies in their hospitals? Isn’t that a little more concrete than usual?”
“Animists see spirits within every aspect of nature,” Deanna told her. “To them, a river or a tree is an embodied spirit. This won’t be that profoundly different to them.”
“But many Lumbuans are of a more skeptical bent,” Tuvok said. “Belief in spirits is not universal. Might not our presence shift the balance toward a revival in animist belief?”
“Maybe. But if we leave without tangible evidence, it will just be a few dozen people’s testimony added to a whole world’s ongoing philosophical dialogue. And Mawson and her nurses will probably help confuse the issue. These are a people who relish debate and are slow to come to a consensus.” She smirked. “I wouldn’t be surprised if many of the eyewitnesses ended up getting persuaded that they imagined what they saw.”
“That may be more difficult than you think, Counselor,” Tuvok said.
“Well, anyway, they’ve got more immediate concerns, with the future of their nation at stake. This will probably fade from public attention before long.”
Ree said to Tuvok, “Commander, if we can get to a suitably private place, I can remotely shut down the jamming field and have us beamed to the Horne. We can then beam your team back to your shuttle and depart together.”
“An excellent suggestion, Doctor. However, we have one more loose end to resolve. The locals have photographic documentation of our presence.”
Tuvok and his team began discussing how to track down the photographs and retrieve or destroy them without detection. Deanna tuned them out, trusting them to get the job done. Right now, the baby in her arms was her entire universe.
CHAPTER S
IXTEEN
DROPLET
Once she was sure Riker could manage without her, Aili swam back out to the squales, determined to extract some answers about the status of her crewmates. She realized now that she hadn’t pressed the issue hard enough before, perhaps because she’d been enjoying the escape too much. It was an error she was determined to remedy.
It took a while, but Aili finally managed to ask the right questions. “Are my people still in the ocean?” had initially brought the same answer from the members of the contact pod: “Not for Aili.”Alos and Gasa had accompanied the answer with chorused assurances that they were here for her now. Once her song had been transposed, they sang, she could join their choir.
“It’s not like that for us,” she told them. “We don’t change pods as easily as you. We want our old pod back.”
“That’s clear enough,”Cham sang in harmony with Gasa’s refrain of comfort. “But they are silent to the found lings’ ears. We cannot change their ways; for that, we need to comprehend.”