Balance of Nature
Page 10
Until the time when Nasat forgetfulness threatened Citoac existence.
Between the security net and extending the township perimeter, the Citoac had been forced into smaller, more hostile territories. Photosynthetic processes became inadequate for feeding; the Citoac had been forced to become carnivorous to survive. From poisoning the mother-tree and penetrating the security net, to invading the paddocks, they had waged war on the Nasat to make themselves known.
What held the most meaning for Pattie had been what she and Tarak had puzzled through after the siege at the base camp. Instead of being genetic misfits or anomalies, quiets existed among the Nasat as nature’s way of facilitating communication with the Citoac. Tarak had hypothesized that the quiets concentrated their paddocks on the township perimeter as a way of giving the Citoac easier access to them. How many centuries the quiets had facilitated communication between the two species had been lost. Whether through words or pictographs, the ancient quiets had served a vital role that had helped the Nasat survive into their spacefaring age.
Pattie clutched the handle of her duffel more tightly. What legacy will I pass to my offspring? she thought, regretting for the first time that nymph Nasat were raised without knowledge of, or connection to, their parents. But if her nymphs inherited her quiet mutation they would be connected to her, and to all the quiets who had gone before. If she took nothing else with her from her visit home when she returned to S.C.E. duty, it would be a sense of belonging to the past. She had never known why softs sentimentalized mementos, old holos, and data chips containing communiqués and journals. Now she thought she might start keeping a personal log once she was back on the da Vinci.
Zoë touched her arm when they reached the deck sector. Stepping off the conveyor, they both ran their IDs through the security scanner and entered the crowded plaza. Pattie liked the look of this old place with its clay-plaster walls and playground even more than she had the first time she’d seen it. Inhaling deeply, she could smell the gourd paste cakes being readied for the mid-cycle meal. Maybe they can find a seat for us. I’d like to meet my offspring’s future neighbors.
“You ready to drop off your young ones?” Zoë asked gently.
Pattie nodded.
* * *
The nursery was in much the same chaotic state as it had been when Pattie had visited before. Shells raced around, attending to Nasat larvae in every state of hatching.
Pattie located the director and after a brief interview (a formality), reluctantly passed off her data chip and the duffel bag carrying her larvae. I hadn’t expected to feel…empty, she thought as she watched the director deposit her larvae into a holding chamber. She wanted to leave as soon as possible, to distance herself from her discomfort.
Upon leaving the director’s office, she noticed Zoë in intense conversation with a Green carrying not one, but two nymphs. I hope she knows I want to leave. Now.
“Pattie!” Zoë waved her over. “Come on over.”
Obviously not. She sighed.
Zoë scooped one of the nymphs, a Red, out of the Green’s limbs and before Pattie could protest, deposited it in her arms. She took the Green’s other charge, a Brown, for herself.
Who have we here? Pattie studied the nymph thoughtfully, guessing he was three or four weeks old. She gave him her pincer to grip; he intuitively clutched at her with all his limbs. In spite of herself, she smiled and clicked nonsense rhymes to the nymph, knowing that he was too young to respond. Will you be a quiet, little one? she thought, watching how his eyes focused on her moving mouth and tongue. If you are, I know exactly who can take care of you.
Their eyes met and linked. For a long moment, she stared down into the Red nymph’s tiny face, wondering who this little one would be two or three seasons from now. She touched his face with one of her limbs. I name you, she thought, willing him to feel her words. Whatever was ahead of him, she wanted him to sense that someone, somewhere, knew him.
As she was known.
About the Author
HEATHER JARMAN is the author of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine: Mission Gamma Book 2: This Gray Spirit. She is currently working on several Trek-related projects in addition to an original YA spy novel. She lives in Portland, Oregon, with her husband and four daughters.
Coming Next Month: Star Trek™:
S.C.E. #28
BREAKDOWNS
by Keith R.A. DeCandido
In the wake of the catastrophic events of Wildfire, both Captain David Gold and Commander Sonya Gomez return to their homes, to take refuge in family in the wake of tragedy. But neither commanding officer nor first officer finds the road to recovery an easy one, as they both confront demons from their past and the uncertainty of their future, leading to a bitter confrontation from which neither may ever truly recover….
COMING IN MAY FROM POCKET BOOKS!