by Dayton Ward
Rounding the back side of the hut, Leone froze as the sharpened tip of a wooden spear pressed against his belly. Naturally, the weapon’s wielder was the child he had just seen. The young Tomol gripped the spear with both hands, poking Leone with it.
“Who are you?”
“I’m Doctor Leone, and I’m here to help you.” He heard footsteps behind him and noted the boy’s reaction as he shifted his stance to look around the doctor at the new arrivals. A quick glance over his shoulder told him it was Amos and their escorts, with the two security guards having brandished their phasers. Leone returned his attention to the boy when he felt the spear jab him in the gut once more.
“Whoa, hey,” he said, raising his arms. “These are my friends, okay?” He gestured to his clothing. “See? Same clothes, right?”
“What do you want here?” asked the boy.
Keeping his hands raised, Leone replied, “We’re just making sure everyone here is all right. We’re looking for your leader, Seta?” He had been briefed by Khatami on the young Tomol priestess, based on the limited information collected by the Sagittarius crew. “Is she here?”
“Brinto!”
The new voice sounded from ahead, and Leone saw a slim figure wrapped in a brightly colored garment standing in the doorway of one of the larger huts. “Brinto, bring them.”
“See?” Leone said as the boy stepped backward, removing the spear tip from his belly. “Just here to talk. Not trying to cause a problem.” He looked behind him and saw the rest of the landing party standing there. “Thanks for the backup, guys.” Gesturing to the security officers’ phasers, he added, “Can we put those away? You’ll make the natives restless.”
“With all due respect, Doctor,” said McMurray, “that’s sort of the point.”
Leone conceded that. “Okay, but you’re making me restless, too.”
“We’ll be discreet,” Zapien said.
“Fine,” Leone grunted in resignation as he set off to follow the boy, Brinto. Walking farther into the village, he now saw that the Tomol waiting for them was a female, not really much older than Brinto, with the same teal skin and silvery hair that characterized her people. Her cloak was composed of numerous brilliantly colored feathers and obviously was too big for her. She was nervous, Leone noticed, fidgeting under the weight of the cloak, which he assumed served a ceremonial rather than functional purpose.
“I am Seta,” she said, and despite what he had been told about the Tomol leader, Leone was surprised by just how young she looked. This girl, who looked no older than fourteen, had been thrust into her role by circumstance after one of the transformed Tomol, Nimur, had killed her predecessor. “I knew there would be more of you. Are you from the sky-ships, too?”
Leone nodded. “Yes. I am Leone. I’m a doctor.” Looking past her, he saw that at least three other Tomol were standing in the hut. When she appeared not to understand his meaning, he added, “A healer of the sick.”
Seta nodded, then gestured to Amos. “You are a healer, as well?”
The nurse replied, “Of a sort. I help Doctor Leone.”
“And what of your companions?” Seta asked.
Glancing to Zapien and McMurray, Leone replied, “They protect us from harm.”
The young Tomol said, “Like our Wardens?”
“That’s right,” the doctor replied, recalling the information he had been given about the Tomol society collected by the Sagittarius landing party. “I understand that you are now the leader of your people, and that you’ve met and talked with others of my people. I hope you’ll trust us just as you trusted them, as we’re not here to hurt you.” When she said nothing for a moment, Leone realized she was staring at him. “What’s wrong?”
“Your face.” Seta reached forward, but then caught herself. “Your skin has creases. Are you sick?”
Amos snorted, and when Leone looked at her, the nurse’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “She’s never seen anyone as old as you, Doctor.”
“I’m not that old,” Leone snapped. Returning to the matter at hand, he said to Seta, “I’ve come so that I can better understand your people so that maybe I can find a way to help the others, the ones who . . .”
“You mean the Changed,” Seta said. “We know little about what happens to us when we come of age. We know only what the wordstone tells us, and that we must accept the Cleansing when the Change is upon us.”
“That’s why we’re here,” Leone replied, considering his words based on what he had learned from the landing party’s survey report and what the young Tomol was saying. “We think the wordstone might have knowledge it hasn’t yet shared with you. If that’s true, then we think we may be able to help you with those who’ve Changed, and hopefully the rest of you.”
For a moment, he saw Seta’s stony expression soften just enough for a glimpse of the child behind it. Her eyes revealed vulnerability, along with a sense of relief and gratitude, and he thought she might even offer a smile. Then the moment passed, and Seta straightened her posture, as though remembering that despite her young age, she still was the leader of her people.
“Your assistance is welcome.”
Leaving Zapien and McMurray outside to stand watch—a duty Seta also assigned to young Brinto—Leone and Amos followed Seta into the hut, which was sparsely decorated and furnished. Several narrow beds were arrayed around the walls of the primitive structure, which lacked windows or a fireplace. A table was positioned at the room’s center, atop which sat a bowl filled with what Leone guessed were native fruits. Illumination was provided by a pair of lamps on the table, allowing him to see the three other Tomol females occupying the hut. None of them appeared to be much older than Seta, and one was decidedly younger. Each was dressed in unremarkable hand-woven clothing.
“How do you intend to help us?” Seta asked.
A good question, Leone admitted to himself. “First, I have to understand more about you and your people. This Change you undergo, it happens when you reach a certain age, which means that it has something to do with what goes on inside your body.” Lifting his tricorder from where it rested along his hip, he showed the device to her. “This lets me see that. May I use it? I promise it will not cause any pain.”
“The other sky people had boxes like that,” Seta replied. “They provided great knowledge. You may proceed.”
Gesturing to Amos to follow his lead with the other three Tomol women, Leone activated the tricorder and removed the diagnostic scanner from the unit’s storage compartment. Without being asked, Seta removed her heavy cloak, and the doctor was struck by how slight the girl appeared without it—and how young. Waving the scanner over her, Leone watched her eyes follow his motions and noted her concerned expression.
“Will you be able to see everything with that?” she asked.
Leone replied, “I don’t know about everything, but I’ll have many more answers about your people than I have now.”
“Will it tell you when?”
His eyes narrowing, Leone looked up from his tricorder. “When what?”
“When the Change will take me.”
Of course she’d ask that.
“Once I understand more about your people and how your bodies work, I should be able to do that.” From what he already had been told about Tomol physiology by Doctor Lisa Babitz, the Sagittarius’s chief medical officer, he was convinced that Seta was still at least a few years away from whatever natural growth and aging effects might trigger the Change. Halting his tricorder scan, he asked, “But are you sure you really want to know?”
Seta seemed to ponder the question before offering a brief nod. “I want to know only for the sake of my people. I am not fully prepared for my duties as priestess. Ysan did not have the opportunity to teach me all there is to know before Nimur took her from us. I have spent very little time in the Caves of the Shepherds, and I have no
t mastered the Shepherds’ wordstone. If the Change is going to take me soon, I will need to find someone who can carry on as priestess.”
“I’m sure you’ll have plenty of time,” Leone said, unsure how else to proceed with this line of discussion. He knew from the Sagittarius reports that the Shepherds were what the Tomol called the Preservers, and that the wordstone was the obelisk the scout ship’s landing party had found in the underground caverns. Lieutenant Klisiewicz was convinced that the artifact was a treasure trove of information, most of which likely remained unknown to the Tomol, or that those like Priestess Ysan, who may well have possessed greater information, were dead as a consequence of Nimur’s actions. “What do you know about the Shepherds?”
“They are the ones who brought us here to Suba and left us with the laws so we can continue to live here safely and preserve our people.”
“So the Shepherds didn’t just leave you here all alone,” Leone said. “I mean, they gave you what you need to survive here.”
Seta nodded. “Yes, Leone. All that we need is within the wordstone. It answers our questions when we have them. According to what Priestess Ysan taught me, it can even give us the power to stop the Changed, should a time come when one does not submit to the Cleansing.”
“Times like now?” Leone asked.
“Like now, yes. I know that Nimur can be stopped, or rather that she could have been stopped by a Holy Sister such as Ysan, someone who had completed her education and training.” She cast her gaze down to the hands she held clasped at her waist. “I am only a disciple. I know so little of how to consult the wordstone.”
Leone felt sorry for the girl, who seemed far too young to have such responsibility forced upon her. “It sounds like you know more about it than anyone else around here.”
“I do,” Seta replied. “As I said to the others from your sky-ships, it now falls to me to lead our people.” She paused. “It is frustrating to hold such responsibility and yet have no ability to carry out what is expected of me. With Ysan gone, I am the Holy Sister, the only person permitted by the Shepherds to draw upon the wordstone’s knowledge and power, but I am uncertain how to do that. I do not know if I am ready, but your friends said they would help me learn the things I had not been taught by Ysan.”
Something about what she was saying made Leone pause, and he lowered the tricorder and his scanner. “You’re the only one able to use the wordstone? So that means you’d be the only one who could call on whatever might be needed to stop any of your people who underwent the Change.”
Seta replied, “In accordance with the Shepherds’ will, yes.”
“And all of your people know this,” Leone said, not liking where his thinking was beginning to take him.
“They do,” Seta said. “That is as it has been for as long as we have been here.”
Amos, having completed her scans of the other Tomol women, walked back to rejoin Leone. “So that means Nimur knows you’re the only one capable of putting an end to the Changed,” she said.
“Exactly,” Leone agreed. “Even though you think you might not know anything, you at least know enough to get us to help you. That makes you a target,” he told Seta. Reaching for his communicator, he flipped open its antenna grid. “Leone to Endeavour. Stand by to beam up the landing party, along with one addition.”
“Doctor?” Amos prompted. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” She made a show of looking first to Seta and then back again to Leone. “There are prime considerations, after all.”
Leone gestured for them to move to the hut entrance so that they could collect Zapien and McMurray before finding a place to transport back to the ship without being observed by the entire village. Yes, there were Prime Directive issues to consider, but it was obvious to Leone that the Tomol in their current state were a textbook example of a culture arrested by an outside influence, rather than one making normal technological and sociological strides.
Besides, the Klingons already screwed up everything, anyway.
“We’ve got bigger problems right now. We can deal with that other stuff later.” Taking Seta by the hand, he said, “I think you’re in danger, and I want to keep you safe. By doing that, I think we can help keep all of your people safe. We won’t keep you away from your people any longer than absolutely necessary. Do you trust me?”
“I trust you, Leone,” the girl replied, clutching his hand.
Nodding in satisfaction, Leone smiled. “All right, then.” Realizing what the young Tomol was about to experience, he added, “You’re about to see some things that will be hard to believe, Seta, but by coming with me, you’re working to help your people.”
As they exited the hut, Amos said, “I don’t think Captain Khatami’s going to be happy.”
Leone waved away her concerns. “Relax. She loves it when I do stuff like this.”
9
“Tony, I really hate it when you do stuff like this.”
Atish Khatami stood at the briefing room table, her palms planted flatly upon it as she leaned into Doctor Leone’s personal space. They were alone in the room, so Khatami felt no qualms about demonstrating her disapproval to her chief medical officer, who happened also to be her friend and closest thing on the ship to a confidant. She knew better than to expect anything resembling a straightforward apology, but also that Leone would not attempt to deflect blame or responsibility for a decision. Despite this well-established dynamic between them, the doctor still fidgeted in his seat, indicating to Khatami that her point was being made.
“I understand that you gave me orders about this,” Leone said, “but I basically made a tactical decision based on new information. Shouldn’t I get a little credit for that?”
“Maybe you missed the crater on the surface that resulted from the last time one of the natives was invited into space,” Khatami said.
“That was different,” Leone replied. “For one, those Klingon idiots beamed aboard a mess of Tomol who’d already Changed. Seta’s nowhere near that point in her development.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because I’m a doctor, and that’s what doctors do.” Leaning forward, Leone rested his elbows on the table. “Seta’s not just a valuable resource to us. She’s the one who can get us access to the Preserver pyramid. She’s the key to getting this Nimur and the rest of the Changed under control. Nimur has to know that. Until we can get a real handle on this thing, the safest place for her is here.”
“And you’re confident that the Endeavour is in no danger from her?” Khatami asked.
Leone nodded. “As confident as I can be with the information we’ve got. I’m going to do every test and scan I can think of, but right now I’m pretty damn sure she’s not about to explode into something we can’t handle.” He held up his hands as he continued speaking, moving them about in front of his face, which was his habit when he was launching into a lengthy explanation. “The initial readings on her DNA show nucleosides that could be influenced by the right catalyst to initiate phosphorylation, and once that starts there’s no way to tell whether translocations will occur or how rapidly that might happen or whether the resulting new functions are toxic or superior and . . . I’ve lost you.”
“Is it that obvious?” Khatami asked.
“Your jaw went a little slack, there.”
“Well, you could pretend you’re not talking to a geneticist.”
That evoked a chuckle from the doctor. “Right, sorry. The basic thing about DNA, no matter where we find it, is that it can be altered or mutated by an outside source. That source can be something as simple as sunlight or as damaging as radiation or ingesting a chemical compound. Then, you’ve got genetic resequencing, which is a strict no-no in the Federation but is practiced on at least a few planets in the known galaxy. Above that, we’ve got that whole next-level thing going on with races like our friends the Shedai, which we think has some
thing to do with what’s going on down below. Anyway, as DNA forms, it spirals up and around and it locks itself up pretty tight. Its propensity is to stabilize and thrive. It’s not sitting there just looking to get mutated.”
“Okay,” Khatami said. “And I sense a ‘but’ coming.”
“But,” Leone stressed, “the Tomol’s DNA is different. We performed in-depth scans on four individuals on the surface, and in each of them we found the same series of orphan receptors. They’re just hanging out there waiting to connect to . . . something.”
Khatami nodded. “And we don’t know what.”
“Right. I can’t be sure exactly what will happen to a Tomol whose genes start to receive whatever chemical or signal is intended to start that reaction, but the strands appear primed to unravel in a uniform way once introduced to the right conditions.”
Despite the doctor’s attempts to simplify the topic for her benefit, Khatami felt her head starting to hurt. “So every one of those people is a bomb with a fuse.”
“Pretty much, only the fuse stays unlit until they reach a certain point in their natural development. That will be different from person to person, and for Seta that point isn’t going to be for a while yet.”
“What about the other effects this Change brings about?” Khatami asked, settling back into her chair. “The reports from the Sagittarius people indicate that this Nimur is mentally unbalanced, or becoming that way.”
“There’s no way to know if this is a normal reaction to the Change, or something unique to her. From what we can tell, this sort of thing rarely if ever happens, because the Tomol have instituted all their laws and rituals that see to it that anyone who’s caught up in the beginnings of the transformation throws himself or herself into that fire pit.” Leone sighed. “I don’t recommend this place as a vacation destination, if anyone’s wondering.”
Ignoring the comment, Khatami said, “If her transformation is typical, we could be looking at an epidemic resulting in hundreds of demigods, all of them capable of destroying a starship with their bare hands.” Before she could continue that line of thinking, the briefing room doors parted to admit Lieutenant Stephen Klisiewicz, who entered at a hurried pace.
