This Gray Spirit

by Heather Jarman

  He didn’t feel like laughing.

  He became sensitized to her hands resting on the small of his back, the way she curved into him, molding her body against his. Taking her chin in his hand, he tipped her face up. For as long as he had memories, she was in them. Difficult, childish, lanky…sweet-smelling like challorn flowers, hair gossamer soft and her eyes—her stormy eyes swallowed him. Exploring the velvet hollows of her throat with his fingertips, he felt her pulse quicken as he traced the edge of her collarbone with his thumb. He stared.

  Thriss held Shar’s look, loosened the tie on her blouse, pushed back the wet, clinging fabric, pulling it down to puddle around her waist. He reached for her and hesitated, knowing her apparition would dissolve with his touch as it always did in his dreams. Until she placed his hand on her chest and he felt the warmth of her skin against his palm. Startled by her realness, he pulled away, wincing upon losing his connection with her.

  I need her. He received this revelation with the same faith that allowed him to understand the revolution of planets and the nature of light. I need her.

  He fumbled with his tunic. With shaking fingers, Thriss, too, clutched at his clothing, but her clumsiness matched his own. Pressing foreheads together they shared an awkward laugh. Hands linked, they yanked his tunic over his head and tossed it on the ground.

  They pressed close, antennae touching, stroking, until trembling cascaded over them. He nestled her back against his chest, embedding each delicate vertebra into his skin; his hands settled on the slope of her hips, caressed the curve, and stroked the small of her back. She reached her arms behind her, drawing his face into her neck, knotting her fingers in his locks. All that he had been taught and warned about dissolved into languid twilight. She had been given to him, and he to her. And he accepted at last what elemental thing had been between them since their memories began.

  A chime started Shar awake. His eyes opened and he found himself sitting in front off the main console of the Sagan. At last check, it had been close to dawn; now, it was four hours later. The vaguest sense that he was forgetting something lingered in the back of his mind.

  “Model complete,” the ship’s computer intoned. “Image available upon request.”

  “Display,” Shar ordered. Maybe seeing the model would help jar his memory about which of the three or four data files he’d been working on before he fell asleep. Sleeping was counterproductive, especially when his vivid dreams left him wondering what reality he was in.

  I wonder if the others ever suspected. It isn’t like I wear a visible mark, he thought. Recollections of intimacies shared with Thriss often dredged up guilt. Though he’d never regretted the choice to initiate tezha, he knew Anichent and Dizhei would be hurt by their choice to go outside the bond. Not only because it was forbidden but also because their choice implied infidelity to the bond as a whole. Over the last six years, Shar had gradually recognized that he would eventually face consequences for breaking the covenant. Anichent would feel betrayed. Dizhei would fear for the stability of the bond. But Shar was confident they could surmount these obstacles. I’ve maintained strong, healthy relationships with all my bondmates, Shar reasoned. I love them all and I anticipate sharing my life with them for many years to come.

  He considered this latest holographic model of Yrythny DNA. Since his trip to the peninsula, Shar had worked, day and night, processing the data by utilizing the Andorian gene-mapping strategies he was familiar with to develop models. Thankfully, he had enough Wanderer data to track the subtle nuances of their genetic drift. Houseborn information was spottier. The samples from the Assembly and those the Hebshu farmers had managed to collect from their Houseborn colleagues provided Shar enough reference points from the past with which to compare current data.

  Identifying primary gene functions had been his first priority. Once the chromosomal architecture had been adequately mapped, Shar began tracking mutations and the consequences of those mutations. The computer had spent the night comparing Wanderer samples, synthesizing generalizations about where mutations occurred and what consequences resulted. If there proved to be a pattern, Shar would project future drift and see what conclusions could be drawn.

  “Computer, display results from Yrythny data analysis ch’Thane Beta four.”

  So far, the results hadn’t yielded many surprises. In the genes governing intelligence, both Wanderer and Houseborn Yrythny had equal potential. Similar results cropped up in areas of physical strength and health. More distinctions existed on the Houseborn side between Houses. What am I not seeing? Shar thought, frustrated. There’s something right here in front of me and I’m not seeing it.

  “Shar?” Lieutenant Dax said, climbing through the entry hatch.

  His nagging sense of forgetting vanished when he remembered the imminent trip planetside for Homecoming. “Yes, Lieutenant. I’m here.”

  “We missed you at breakfast,” Dax said, clicking open a locker and tossing a shoulder bag inside.

  “We?”

  “We, Ensign.” Keren entered behind Dax, with Vice Chair Jeshoh bringing up the rear.

  “Oh. I didn’t realize we’d have company, Lieutenant.”

  “Keren and Jeshoh did chair the committees I worked with. It’s only fitting that they come as co-presenters. Besides, Jeshoh is House Perian’s favorite son. We’re VIPs when we travel with him.” Dax slid into the seat beside Shar. “How’s the research coming?”

  Shar hesitated. He didn’t want to reveal any strategy Ezri might be still trying to protect.

  “Speak freely, Ensign,” Dax said, evidently surmising his reservations “I doubt your study will change much at this point.”

  Unfortunately, she’s right, Shar thought regretfully. “On the face of things, the data indicate that the Yrythny, generally, don’t have a lot to differentiate them. Statistically significant variations exist within the body of Houseborn data and the body of Wanderer data, but not between Houseborn and Wanderer.”

  “See, Jeshoh, I told you that I was your equal,” Keren teased.

  “You can say it, but I don’t believe it,” Jeshoh retorted.

  “What’s next?” Ezri asked, thumbing through Shar’s results on her own viewscreen.

  “Projecting the long-term genetic drift. Mapping the likely mutations and the probable outcome of those mutations. I expect to complete the analysis by tonight.”

  “Excellent. Keep me posted.” Dax leaned close enough to Shar that only he could hear her. “I know you had a lot invested in this project, and you’ve done superior work. Don’t beat yourself up about not finishing in time. The Assembly is happy with the compromise I proposed. I think we’ve succeeded in helping the Yrythny.”

  Eyes straight ahead, Shar said politely, “As you say, sir.”

  Dax turned to the passengers in the aft seats. “Strapped in?”

  Keren and Jeshoh answered affirmatively.

  “All right, then. Ensign, prepare for launch.”

  “Yes, sir,” Shar acknowledged. “Luthia launch control, this is shuttle Sagan requesting clearance for takeoff.”

  “Shuttle Sagan, you are clear for launch.”

  For Shar, knowing he was going to Vanìmel for the last time felt bittersweet. Vaughn and the Defiant would return tomorrow, prepared to resume their explorations. Dax’s assurances aside, he berated himself for failing to accomplish his personal goals. He ought to be satisfied with the away team’s work; they’d all played a role in Ezri’s diplomatic efforts. Her proposed compromise was logical, if not particularly original. If the committees’ response indicated how the Yrythny, as a whole, would respond, her ideas would be well received. But he could have done more. I should have done more, Shar thought. After all we’ve been through, this can’t be all.

  In the days since they left the Consortium, all crewmen had worked on their designated pieces of Vaughn’s plan and now, they waited. Experience had taught Vaughn not to be impatient. All hell would break loose soon enough. In the last hour
, the finer points of the femtobot defense had been finalized. Though engineering wasn’t his forte, he found Leishman’s report fascinating, including the successful synthesis of a particle fountain metal with a Federation alloy.

  Excitedly, Rahim called from his station, “I’ve got them, Captain.”

  Vaughn looked up from the padd he’d been studying. “Let’s hear it.”

  The bridge officer hurriedly tapped in a few commands. “Compensating for radiant interference, audio feed—”

  “—when the shuttle with our payment leaves the Avaril, it will also carry the alien’s chief technologist, Nog. You’ll need him to translate the specifications into a working device.”

  “This is from the Avaril?” Vaughn asked.

  Rahim nodded.

  Vaughn knew from time with J’Maah that the subspace channel hosting the transmission wasn’t a usual Yrythny frequency. So we are dealing with a conspirator. J’Maah will be a sitting duck.

  “What are we supposed to do with him?” a metallic Cheka voice reverberated through the bridge.

  “Once he’s built the cloak, you can do with him as you please. It’s of no consequence to us.”

  “Can we identify the vocal patterns?” Vaughn asked. If he could figure out who the traitor was, he might be able to send a covert communiqué to J’Maah before the deal went down.

  Rahim apologized. “No, sir. I’ve already had to modify the audio to work with our decryption algorithms.”

  A small price to pay for confirmation, he thought.

  The channel clicked off, but Vaughn had gained a clear visual of how the pieces would move across the chessboard. He touched his combadge. “Vaughn to Permenter.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Have you ever heard of a noisemaker, Ensign? The tactical variety?”

  He could hear her hesitation.

  “I’ll be right down. I have another project for you. Vaughn out. Sam, you have the bridge.”

  Bowers looked up from his console. “Noisemaker, sir?”

  Vaughn paused at the door. “If this plays out the way I think it will, the Avaril will be completely vulnerable when the Yrythny conspirators initiate the trade with the Cheka. We have to make it as hard as possible for them to attack the Avaril—or at least improve the odds. I’ve had quite enough of playing by their rules.” Vaughn knew he spoke for every member of the crew. Time to blow the lid off this con game.

  Sidestepping a group of servants carrying large bins overloaded with fish, Shar ducked beneath an awning and waited for them to pass. He fingered the padd in his pocket, longing for a minute to sit down and review his research data. He’d downloaded the rudiments of his study to carry with him, anticipating that the evening’s official schedule would allow him plenty of work time. Besides Ezri, most of the major government players were slated to speak; if they resembled most officials, they would have lengthy, repetitive and self-aggrandizing rhetoric to propagate. Considering he more or less knew what would be said, he felt no guilt about using the time more effectively.

  As he approached the end of the walkway, Shar realized he was lost. He had taken a left turn at the Fountain Triad, passed by the servants’ quarters and circled back along the north boardwalk to the plaza. Keren had instructed him to meet her near the entrance to the Colonnade, the facility hosting the evening festivities. Instead, Shar arrived at the end of his walk facing a black sea wall marking the narrow alleyway running behind the resident’s wing. From what he’d seen of House Perian, little if any logic had gone into the design. The original House had been built three thousand years ago—the plaza had been at the center. Three millennia had allowed time for the natives to add on the accoutrements of modern life from a marina to a shuttleport to aquaculture outbuildings. Over the course of the afternoon, Shar had seen most of Perian but had yet to retrace his steps. He turned around, looked up to see if Keren might be descending one of the outer staircases or if he could recognize any landmarks. A cluster of Yrythny emerged from the alleyway; Shar approached them. “Excuse me, but I’m looking for the Colonnade.”

  The tallest in the group, an Yrythny who reminded Shar of Jeshoh, laughed heartily. “You’re all turned about, stranger. We’re headed there ourselves. You’re welcome to walk with us.”

  “Thank you,” Shar said, hoping this group was headed directly for the Colonnade and not eventually to the Colonnade by way of the café, the apartments or the docks. He followed alongside, seeking to regain his bearings. After walking a short distance, Shar recognized a familiar landmark and relaxed. “I’m Thirishar, by the way,” he introduced himself. “But most call me Shar.”

  “I’m Nensoh, these are my friends Dernah and Spetsoh. I assumed from the look of you that you’re part of the alien delegation from Luthia. Your hair is astonishing.”

  Shar had discovered his hair inordinately fascinated the Yrythny. “Do you live here?” Shar wracked his brain for other questions one asked when making polite conversation. He doubted the finer points of chromosomal architecture would interest this trio.

  “Only during the summer. To help with the farming. During the winter, I serve on a starship,” Nensoh explained. “I’m home because my consort and I will go into the water. Here we are.”

  The group emerged onto the open square, crowded with Yrythny waiting for admission to the Colonnade. Shar split off from his Yrythny escorts, knowing if he followed them into the throng, he’d never find Keren. “Thank you, Nensoh!” Shar yelled over the cacophonous crowd. He waved farewell.

  Puckering his face strangely, Nensoh raised his hand, mimicking the unfamiliar gesture.

  And then Shar saw it. The starburst mark.

  “Wait!” he called, running after Nensoh.

  Nensoh paused when he saw Shar coming toward them. “Shar?”

  “The mark on your hand. I’ve seen it before.”

  Nensoh shrugged. “It’s not unusual. It appears on the palm of a fertile Yrythny as they enter their reproductive period. My guess is, were you to check the palms of all of these Yrythny, most would bear the mark.”

  Shar nodded absently, his mind racing through questions. The night in Keren’s apartment haunted him. In subsequent discussions with Keren, he’d asked about the mark, but she shrugged off his concerns, believing Shar had scared off the invader and thus any potential threat. At least the mark’s commonness made it less likely that Keren was protecting a specific individual. Still…

  “Thirishar! Over here!”

  Seeking Keren’s faint voice, he narrowed her location to the fringes of the plaza. He squinted, discerning that she had climbed up onto a bench, enabling him to see her over the tall Yrythny. Fixing his bearings on her location, he wormed his way in and out of the tight, packed-in crowds, relieved to emerge from the claustrophobic gathering. Before he could greet her, she jumped down and said, “We can’t stay. There’s an emergency.”

  “What is it?” He followed her away from the plaza, jogging toward the seaside path.

  “Jeshoh contacted me. The Perian authorities believe the mating grounds are being raided. They’ll be launching the patrols as soon as they can, but all the visitors have blocked the harbor with their watercraft.”

  Damn. Without hesitation, Shar tapped his combadge. “Ch’Thane to Dax. We have an emergency.”

  With the first moon hidden behind clouds and the second still rising over the mountains, there was little natural illumination as the Sagan, once again carrying Shar, Dax, Keren and Jeshoh, came within visual range of their targets.

  “Increase resolution,” Ezri ordered.

  Shar tapped in a few commands, sharpening the visual sensors’ acuity by compensating for the diminished light.

  Within the small screen on Shar’s console, three hovercraft skimmed in and out of the reed patches of the mating grounds while another paused in the very thick of the sea grasses. Shar zoomed in on a cloaked figure leaning over the railing, plunging a long pole, with a net attached at the end, into the water. Beside
him, another cloaked figure thrust the nose of a long tube into the reeds, pumping a handle mounted on the end.

  “Clever,” Jeshoh muttered. “I’ll wager they’re spraying the reeds with tetracoxiclan to melt the adhesive seal between the reeds and the egg sacks.”

  “Second one follows behind with the net and scoops them out of the water,” Keren said, finishing his thought. “But who among us would steal fertilized eggs?” She frowned, disgusted.

  “Computer, identify life-forms in Vanìmel sector zero-four-seven,” Ezri said.

  “Eighteen Yrythny life-forms in grid zero-four-seven.”

  Imagining the anguish his own people endured while trying to procreate successfully, Shar was struck by how having an abundance of offspring shifted one’s paradigm. Wondering about the reasons behind such a choice, he asked, “Why would Yrythny want to strip eggs from the mating ground?”

  “Why would Yrythny blow up an aquaculture village?” Keren countered. “It’s a mind game. With House Perian hosting the Compromise announcement, the eyes of Luthia and Vanìmel are focused on this hemisphere tonight. Stage it well and they’ll have the attention of every Yrythny.”

  “Not if I have anything to say about it,” Dax said firmly. She turned to Shar. “Options, Ensign?”

  He’d been mulling over how to immobilize the raiders since they’d arrived. “It seems simple enough. The Perian authorities will be arriving here within the hour. In the meantime, we immobilize the hovercraft, secure the eggs in our custody and hold the criminals for the proper authorities.”

  Ezri nodded her approval. “Disable their engines with phasers. Make it impossible for them to move anywhere. They’re far enough from shore that they can’t swim to land. We’ll beam-out the eggs. Proceed, Ensign.”

  “Aye, sir,” Shar said. “Targeting phasers.”