“What is your primary concern, your duty to Starfleet or the safety of your symbiont?”
Moll shook her head, unable to answer either way. “All I know is that I have to stay true to myself.”
The cross‑questioning continued for another hour, until the merciless voice relented and dismissed the Symbiosis Commission until the next day, when additional witnesses would be called. Moll had seen the list of Starfleet officials, exobiologists, and even more Trill psychologists and medical specialists. Everything she had ever done or thought would be questioned.
Already, under the expert grilling she felt as if she was being pounded while trying to maintain that she had done the only thing her conscience would allow her to do. But they had found out plenty about her, things she had tried to hide for years–her frustration at being a first host, her longing to be something other than herself, to belong to something.
She was finally taken away by two white‑robed Symbiosis Commission officials. It was humiliating, the way they treated her as if she couldn’t be trusted.
Moll’s remarkable memory had already been the subject of one hundred and thirty‑seven academic papers on Trill, but she knew there would be a flurry of new opinions produced by this hearing. She could imagine the resulting titles–“Systemic Reaction to Perfect Memory,” “Instability as a Consequence of Eidetism,” and “Tertiary Overload in Joined Trill.”
Not for the first time, Moll was seriously doubting her own competence to be a host for Enor. She had always known the only reason she had succeeded thus far was dueto her eidetic memory. Saving that panspermia fossil was the first thing she’d ever done that wasn’tbased on the capacity of her memory. As Jayme’s constant, supportive communiques pointed out, it had taken sheer courage to stay in the science pod when she knew she might be killing her symbiont. Yet her pride at her accomplishment was rapidly dwindling. Perhaps she shouldonly focus on mental pursuits rather than try to be more than she was by joining Starfleet.
But that was all Jadzia’s fault.
“Your room,” one of the officials informed her. “Will you wish to leave tonight?”
“I doubt it,” she replied wearily.
“Very well, we will return tomorrow morning to escort you to the hearing room.”
Moll leaned against the door as it closed behind her, wondering if she had the motivation to eat before falling into bed.
“Nice to see you again, Moll!”
A chair turned, making Moll start in surprise. “Jadzia! What are you doing here?”
Jadzia Dax seemed composed, seated with her legs crossed and a sly grin on her face. Moll had never seen her in the trim black Starfleet uniform with the blue shoulder placards, but it looked right on her.
“I’m surprised you didn’t call me yourself,” Jadzia scolded. “What are friends for?”
Moll summoned a weak answering smile. “So friends are supposed to prove each other’s mental stability? I never heard that one.”
Jadzia stood up to approach Moll. “Congratulations, by the way, on your commendation. You’ll make lieutenant faster than I did. But then you always did everything faster than me.”
Jadzia gave Moll a welcoming hug, but Moll could hardly respond. “You went through Starfleet before I did,” she reminded her friend.
Jadzia waved a hand. “That’s because the Initiate Institute wouldn’t accept me until I had accomplished something important.”
The Institute had accepted both of them the same year, but Jadzia was four years older than Moll, having already completed her Academy training. But in everything else, Moll was the most‑favored Initiate at the Institute. She was clearly destined for a symbiont, while everyone else had to keep on their toes, competing with each other for the rare privilege. Moll had gotten the Enor symbiont a year before Jadzia was joined with Dax, during the period that Jadzia had been expelled from the Institute for reasons nobody knew.
“What’s wrong?” Jadzia asked.
Moll gave her a look. “I’m on trial for my life, remember?”
“Oh, that will blow over. The Commission is constantly poking their noses into our business.” Jadzia picked up an Oppalassa lucky charm that Starsa had given Moll last year. “Look what happened with me. They re‑accepted me as an Initiate after kicking me out, and I still don’t know what that was all about. If the Commission didn’t do all these hearings and make big announcements, people would start to think they were unnecessary.”
Moll laughed, but there was a bitter edge to it. “Maybe they’re right about me. They say I have a profound ambiguity toward my symbiont.”
“Who doesn’t?” Jadzia smiled playfully. “Come on, don’t take it so seriously.”
“I can’t help it.”
“I knew you’d be this way. But I have something that’s sure to help,” Jadzia assured her.
“What is it?”
“Do you want to go in there tomorrow and prove you’re competent to host that symbiont?”
“Of course I do!”
“Then come with me.” Jadzia gestured to the door.
“I’m not supposed to leave my quarters.”
“Correction: You’re not supposed to leave the Institute.” Jadzia held up a finger, warning her. “You’re going to have to stop second‑guessing everything and trust me on this one. All right?”
Moll let her pull her to her feet. “Last time you told me to trust you, I ended up in Timerhoo without a return ticket.”
“What are you complaining about? You had a great story to tell when you got back.”
Dax practically had to drag Moll to the holosuite she had reserved. She didn’t want to tell Moll how difficult it had been to get away from DS9, or how important this trial was. Moll already knew that. What she needed right now was to relax, so she could show the Commission she was in complete control.
Dax ordered, “Close your eyes.”
“I’m not allowed to run a simulation of the hearing,” Moll reminded her.
Dax made a face. “You’ll have to answer all those questions tomorrow, why bother to do it tonight? No, this is much better. Three hours from now, you’ll be ready to take over the Symbiosis Commission single‑handed.”
As usual, Moll drew her brows together, as if unsure whether to trust Dax or not. Like a flash, it brought back all their years together at the Institute. Jadzia hadn’t been able to resist making friends with the shy, reserved genius. Everyone else had treated her like an untouchable icon, while Jadzia took perverse pleasure in treating Moll exactly like a younger sister–counseling her, bullying her, and basically treating her like a real Trill.
Now, with the added perspective of the memories of her Dax symbiont, she realized Moll had never understood why she had been so friendly through their years at the Institute. Mostly, Jadzia had felt sorry for the girl who had been shuttled from one intellectual think tank to another University demonstration from a very tender age, never really having a childhood.
“Go on,” Dax urged. “Close your eyes.”
Moll closed her eyes, and she didn’t peek even when Dax put her hand over her face to make sure. “Turn this way,” Dax ordered. “Begin simulation Dax 9J. Okay, now you can look!”
They were on a meadow overlooking the baths of Cydonia. A nearby waterfall tumbled over the rocks to fill the upper pool, spilling down the curved walls that spread like petals over the gentle slope. Steam rose from some of the warmer pools as naked figures moved through the white mist, sliding into the water and gliding away among the ripples.