The ship field lay at the edge of the ice plain one kilometer downslope from the city, next to a busy Ship Support complex of warehouses, repair facilities, and the central passenger dock with its little bubble dome. Kira set down her carryall by the outer wall facing the ship field and looked around at the crowd of people gathered on the dock, then peered outward through the domed wall at the shadowed shape of Santiphap. The Survey ship stood firmly on its tall jacks, its slim hull towering 50 meters high, gleaming under the bright lights of the field. In the tubeway connecting the ships passenger lock to the dome, she could see shadowed movement as people passed back and forth. Ground vehicles whizzed to and fro from a nearby warehouse, loading supplies and equipment into the smaller cargo bay. She watched as a powered forklift maneuvered a huge box into the main cargo lock, wondering what was inside. A space-suited figure ran out on the field and waved his arms frantically at the forklift driver inside his cab and then, totally ignored by the other, jumped up and down emphatically. The driver calmly deposited the box within the ship, then stood up in his cab seat and gestured rudely to the man on the ground.584Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnab1HI4ikZ
They exchanged waves for a while, trading semantics; finally the other man stamped off, saluted by a defiant final flip of the forklift arms. Kira smiled. Ben said Ship Support took no bullshit from anyone, and had the priorities to back up the arrogance. Though technically subordinate to the other four Project teams, Ship Support made the teams' work possible and saw little reason to grovel, even for show. She watched the forklift whisk neatly back across the field toward a distant warehouse and vanish, then watched vainly for more ship-field activity before turning back to the crowd in the dome.
In a far corner of the dome, Dr. Beverly was the center of an admiring crowd, gathering admirers like lint on a woolen sweater. Kira watched the group for a few moments, wondering what they laughed about so uproariously, a smile tugging at the corners of her own mouth. Then she noticed a dark-skinned young man looking at her intently from across the room. His proud carriage, straight black hair and bronzed skin reminded her of the proud and dignified King Jayavarman VII, who reigned from 1180 A.D to 1220 A.D, a look as exotic as her own. As he saw her looking, he took a step in her direction. She quickly bent down to her carryall, pretending to adjust the straps. When she looked up again, he had turned away.
She kicked her carryall in disgust. Your social index is in the toilet today, she thought. You have to meet these people, endure the funny looks. Everything changes today. So go talk to him.
Her feet stayed put, rooted to the floor like a jungle tree. Kira, she told herself, you are the most spineless, idiotic, fainting excuse I've ever....
"There you are, Kira." Ben pushed past another group of people chatting nearby and walked up to her, accompanied by a tall blond man in the olive-drab uniform of Ship Support. "This is Captain Kirk. Jim, my daughter, Kira."
Kirk stretched his lips into a slight smile and clicked his heels as he bowed. "I've long wanted to meet our alien guest. You've grown since the last videos."
Kira nodded, trying to think of a suitable answer and coming up with nothing. She smiled awkwardly. She usually didn't meet the ship's crew.
"So you're to be our alien expert," Kirk drawled. Kira saw Ben's flicking glance at the captain and tensed: in some of the subtler human reactions, Ben was an infallible guide. She tried to keep her expression pleasant.
"In whatever way I can, sir. Dr. Beverly says she's interested in my...."
"Well, good. Just stay out of the way when you can, too." The thin lips turned down. "I'm not pleased about this, Dr. Sisko. I've got enough responsibility to not have the care of the Project's famous ward."
"Don't do that in front of Kira," Ben protested.
"Why not? Let her know from the start." The captain's look this time lacked the vague friendliness he had pretended earlier.
"I'm an inconvenience to everybody," Kira acknowledged in a pleasant tone, keeping a slight smile on her face. "By my mere existence, I annoy, bother, inflict, remove, end. I have learned this all my life from every person possible. Thank you again for the lesson, Captain."
She saw him blink in surprise, then turned on her heel and stalked off toward the tube tunnel to the ship. She would find her own way to whatever quarters Kirk had assigned her. I am not an animal for study, she told herself through clenched teeth, trembling with her anger. I am not a burden for overworked bureaucrats. I am not what you want me to be, weak and dependent and owned! I am not!
"Kira! Wait!" Ben called after her.
She slowed in automatic response to his voice and nearly turned, then shook her head violently and walked into the tubeway. Her boots reverberated hollowly as she stepped onto the temporary ramp, filling the enclosed space with echoes half-baffled by the people passing to and fro into the ship. She stayed near one wall, making her way patiently through the buffeting, trying to ignore the startled looks as some looked at her. It might be easier if I didn't look so human she realized. Outright alien might be easier to accept, but I'm too close---I surprise them too late when they look. Unfortunately, it's not a problem that I can fix.
At the tunnel's end, she reached the squared rim of the ship's airlock and stepped across the threshold. The air seemed closer here, tinged with environmental chemicals and a musty smell, palpably warmer than the ship lounge. A curving metal wall defined the small entryhold, pierced by three stairwells leading upward, one to the left, two the right. At a podium just inside the door stood a young woman in a neatly tailored uniform, her dark hair pulled tightly into a severe style, her dark eyes alert. Kira repressed a sigh as the young woman, like the others, blinked in startlement one second too late.
"Can you tell me where my room is?" she asked. "I'm...."
"Kira Nerys."
"Yes."
To Kira's surprise, the young woman smiled, her face lighting up with genuine pleasure. "You're more beautiful than your videos, Kira---grown up now, aren't you?" She looked Kira up and down for another moment, then extended her hand. "I've read so much about you," she added in a clipped British accent. "I'm Jo Harris, one of the grad students. BioSurvey."
"Hello, Jo," Kira said cautiously, returning the handshake. "Glyphs."
"We do get defined that way, don't we?" Jo laughed beautifully and waved her hand airily at the podium and the little entryhold. "In my peon role, I'm also a watch officer, which means I handle room assignments today. Isn't the bustle awesome? This is my first season out on Survey; I've been dying to see Cirivas. I mean, studying pollen grains in paleolithic Afghanistan is one thing, but everybody already knows what the plants are. Out here everything is new. Is Dr. Sisko coming with you?"
"Yes, he is. You said you're with BioSurvey?"
"Plants," Jo said firmly. "Flowers, shrubs, trees, anything jungle." She waved her hand, and the attractive grin flashed gain. "I've had my sights on Cirivas ever since I was in first-year Honors at Oxford---you wouldn't believe the chores I did to impress the Oxford bigshots and get their recommendation to EuroSurvey. Why would anybody be interested in algae?" She shuddered dramatically. "But that's academics, right? I'm going to help Dr. McCoy in completing the Cirivas biosurvey this season. I've always wanted to meet you---I never agreed with their attitude that you should be hidden away---but now you're here at last. Welcome aboard!"
Kira blinked, then scrambled together her manners. "Thank you." Several people had piled up behind her in the tubeway as they spoke, and a tall lean man stamped restlessly behind her. He scowled over Kira's should at Jo.
"Do I get to come aboard, too?" he asked pointedly over Kira's shoulder.
"Right away, Dr. Bashir." Jo tugged peremptorily at Kira's sleeve and hauled her behind her to the other side of the podium. "Hang around a minute, Kira, will you? Dr. Bashir? You're on Deck B."
Jo handed the man a small oblong rod, a key-plate dangling from the end. She half-turned to point up one of the right stairwells. "Go up there and turn left, then right. No. 28."
"I know where it is, Ms. Harris." Bashir stamped past them and disappeared up the stairwell.
Jo smiled at Kira over her shoulder as the next in line stepped up to the podium. "Will you be coming to the ship-launch dinner, Kira?"
"I suppose---I hadn't heard about that."
"Please do!" Jo smiled again. "The grad students have their own table, suitably mean and at the back, but who cares? Hello, Mrs. Chapel. You're on Deck B, too." The gray-haired woman, dressed in a trim shipsuit and a sour expression, swept Kira with a cool glance of distaste and took her key, then stalked off after Dr. Bashir. Jo saw the look and turned to wrinkle her nose at Kira, her dark eyes sparkling. "If God ever asked for an assistant, she'd volunteer, trust me. She's Dr. Roddenberry's subchief on Metals---infosystems, mostly---and a total bitch. Just stay out of her way and life's fine---and Julian Bashir is a treasure when he's not being too grim. He's Urban Map subchief this season. Not to worry, Kira. Hi, Dave; you're in A16. There's three of us this trip---and now you're the fourth, aren't you?"
Kira blinked again, a bit bedazzled by Jo's chatter. "Four what?"
"Grad students, of course. You've finished your first degree, haven't you?"
"No, not exactly," Kira admitted. "Why I'm going to Cirivas hasn't been quite defined."
"Well, any degree-in-progress except postdoc makes you a grad student---believe me." Jo bent over the podium to look at the tubeway. "Oh, drat, it's a horde coming. Listen, look for our table, will you? I want so much to talk to you---when I let you talk, that is. Sorry. Isn't this all exciting?" She grinned and shook Kira's hand firmly, then handed her a key-plate. "Deck C. Go up the left stairs two flights and turn right. See you later!"
"I hope so."
"Bye!"
Kira moved on as more people crowded through the tubeway entrance. She followed Jo's directions to the safety of her cabin, a little dazed by the young lady's open friendliness. I get too used to feeling odd, she thought; it would be nice to fit in---She quirked her lips, feeling both out and in today.
She turned the corner and counted down the doors to her own, then touched the key to the doorlock. The automatic door opened and she stepped into the dark room, the reddish glow of its warmth radiating from every surface. It was a little place, 1/4 the side of her bedroom at home, but roomy enough. She sat down on the bunk, her carryall at her feet, and stared at the opposite wall.
"Jo."
She said the name aloud, liking the sound. Sometimes a new person liked to meet Kira, but she had learned to be wary: sometimes the reasons behind the friendly smiles were not good. But she thought about Jo anyway, a slow flush of pleasure blurring the memory of Captain Kirk's abruptness. An interesting baptism to ship life, those two. And quite enough for today.
She was often confused by such encounters with strangers, kept away too much from ordinary human society, always different enough in her alienness to pull people out of their normal patterns. She presumed humans had some order of rules in how they reacted to each other, but she couldn't precisely factor how those rules changed when they reacted to herself; even the persons she thought she had deciphered could change, turning cool, warm, indifferent, distracted, angry.
She watched sometimes when the humans spoke to each other, studying the cues, trying to figure out what they meant to each other. What she had learned about humankind and tried to copy for herself lay as a thin veneer over deeper instincts she sensed in herself---though what they were sometimes eluded her, too. She knew that her tempers of the past few days would get her in trouble, and maybe Ben, too. In her current fame of mind, she didn't mind the trouble for herself, but Ben didn't deserve it.
She heard a hiss, then a crackle of static, from the intercom disk on the opposite wall. "Last boarding call," a calm male voice announced. "All passengers and crew to their staterooms, please."
She lay down on the bunk and maneuvered her arms into the straps fastened to the edges of the bed, then worked her boots into the pockets at its base, then got up to store her carryall by tying it firmly to the base of the small cabinet of drawers, then lay down again. A few minutes later, she was up once more to find some water to ease her dry throat. The small bathroom had a cup and a tap. She was settling herself for the third time when Ben opened the door.
"Ready?" he asked.
"Yes, Ben."
"Boost only lasts a few minutes. Don't worry now."
She closed her eyes. "I won't."
"I'm in the room next door if you need anybody."
"Thanks, Ben."
He hesitated, then left hurriedly as a measured hooting began over the intercom, signaling imminent liftoff. Kira tightened her hands on the bed straps and stared hard at the ceiling. I lived through this before, she told herself; I was born to the Starship, I've known what it's like. Her heart pounded a frantic rhythm, making her ears ring with their pounding. She tried to quell that excitement, knowing that Bashir would sedate her if he had monitor leads in the straps, a camera to watch, stealing it from her, that first step back to Cirivas. She closed her eyes again, listening to her heartbeat and measuring it against a longer rhythm; slowly it came under her control, dropping its frantic leaping in her chest, its surging through her blood. Quiet, she soothed. You were born to the Starship; this belongs to you.
It started with the rumbling, a steady vibration she sensed through the mattress, then a slow pressure forcing her downward into its softness. She matched her heartbeat to a long beat in that steady vibration, counting the cycles with the ship, lifting with it, her mind swept suddenly with a keen exaltation as the vibration reached its peak: We rise! They had shouted on every liftoff, with each launch affirming what they were, what they sought, knowing the rightness of it. I remember, Mother, I remember.
Her body sank deeper into the mattress, pressed down by a heavy invisible hand, her heart pounding in her chest. She surrendered fully to that frantic rhythm, casting herself madly into the void with the ship. I rise, I rise! Exaltation swept through her again like a sheet of hot flame, awakening every nerve and pore. She had a sudden vision of herself naked against the sky, straining her arms upward, propelled by the thunder at her feet, defying the limits of any world that thought it could bind her or any of her kind. We are the People! she shouted with the others. We rise! Oh, we rise!
In the distant darkness, a multi-armed Goddess poured a stream of stars into a dark pool of the unending void, then raised her luminous eyes and saw Kira rising exultant before her, the flames roaring at her feet. Those exquisite lips curved.
Welcome, my child.....
Mother!
Gradually the heavy acceleration receded, taking part of the wild exultation of the launch with it, like a tide sweeping outward. Kira waited impatiently for the artificial gravity to engage, her senses still thrumming oddly. When she felt the ship in gravity, she unhooked her belts and lunged to her feet, impelled to some motion, anything. Then abruptly she gasped for air and dizzily reached for support as the strange emotion left her fully, forcing her to lean heavily on the mattress.
She shook her head to clear it, a bad mistake she realized as the room promptly tipped and moved sideways. She sat down and leaned forward as the room started spinning inward to a single black point. Don't faint, she told herself weakly. Lie down. She collapsed backward on the mattress, dragging up one leg. The other could hang where it was, she decided when she could think again.
Some Star Child, she thought ruefully. First rule about We Rise, Kira: don't stand up right away.
After a time, she sat up gingerly and watched for the room to tip---thankfully, it didn't---then waited a little longer before she tried her feet again. They worked, better than she expected. She paced the cabin slowly, aware of the chemical scents on the air, the muffled thumps of activity nearby, her pupils expanding in the gloom of the cabin as she deliberately reconnected herself to her senses. She had not turned on the ceiling light, she realized; a human would, but she did not need the glaring light. Shadows surrounded her, reddish with warmth, bathing her body. She reached out to touch her alien senses, encompassing them all, remembering how they patterned together into a different life, stretching for the memory. I choose....
A hand rapped at her cabin door. She sighed.
"Come in," she said.
The door hissed open and she stopped to face the bulking figure in the doorway, tensing by rote as she recognized him.
"How did you weather launch, my dear?" Dr. Bashir rumbled, his broad face stretched into a self-satisfied smile. How well she knew that smile. Without invitation, he stepped in and switched on the light, throwing glances right and left to inspect the room. Games. Kira clasped her hands in front of her belt and stood still, watching him warily. "Well?" he prompted.
"For your report, Doctor?"
She saw the flash of irritation in Dr. Bashir's dark eyes. "I opposed this."
"I'm sure you did." They glared at each other, the antagonism at last out in the open. For three days Dr. Bashir had made his comments, trying to undermine her acceptance of Ben's offer, warning of this, questioning that, suggesting Kira stay on Aemnoa. She had ignored it all, putting on a cheerful face, blithefully denying all his suggestions. "Let's just say that I'm tired of being your pet, Doctor."
"You're tired of----I did not know you had any say!" He wandered over to the bureau and picked up her carryall, then casually rummaged through it. He pulled out her statue of the Mantis God and juggled it idly from hand to hand, frowning for effect. "Unnecessary weight," he remarked, putting the statue into his shipsuit pocket.
"Put it back!" she challenged him.
"Let's understand where the line still remains, girl."
"Put it back---or I'll report you for theft," she said flatly.
He flushed and retrieved the carving from his pocket, then clunked on the top of the bureau.
"You aren't Narbong," he said, waving at the carved god.
"Neither are you." She turned away from him. "What is this, Doctor? Another test of my emotional matrix? A dominance scoring? Or is it just bullshit because Ben outmaneuvered you? I'm interested. I'm always interested in you."
He said nothing and she turned to face him defiantly. His expression had turned cool and wary, his thoughts concealed, as he regarded her. Then he smiled, showing his teeth.
"Obviously you're emotionally disturbed by the liftoff. Not to be unexpected, due to your protected existence---as pet, as you say. All this is so new." He tapped his jaw, pretended to think deeply, then raised a finger in delighted self-revelation. "Of course! You must stay in this cabin until you've recovered your equilibrium, I'd say at least 24 hours---then we'll reassess." The threat lay on the air for one moment. "I worry about overstressing you with too much stimulation, as it might bring on another of those nervous attacks of yours. We can't have that, I'm sorry."
She took a step toward him, fists clenched. "You can't keep me here. I'm invited to the liftoff dinner."
"Really? They told me you didn't like parties." He smiled and keyed open the door. "So it's delusions and pets now, is it? We must talk about that later."
"I'll tell Ben," she said tightly. "I'll tell him everything you've said---and what's behind it, too."
"Captain Kirk listen to me, Kira; I'm the alienist, after all. Academics---and the captain is one himself, you know---report specialty lines. By all means: try it and see.' he waved his hand airily as he turned. "Get some rest, girl. You need it."
She felt a wail build inside her throat and forced herself to sit down on her bed, denying it, then lay back and closed her eyes, her fists still clenching.
I would like to kill him, she thought, and the violence within herself frightened her. She stretched out her fingers into raking claws, imagining their use, ripping flesh, blinding, tearing away life---Stop, stop. She covered her eyes, refusing the impulse that might fling her out of the room and into the corridor in pursuit of Bashir, ending all chances more neatly than even he could ever manage.
If I were the Tiger, I could kill---but I am not the Tiger. Am I? What is the reality?
While Santiphap completed its jump to Phor 17 and descended into the star system, Kira spent the interlude confined to her stateroom. She had appealed twice to Ben, who had gone to the captain each time, but Bashir's prediction had proven accurate: Captain Kirk's own wishes obviously paralleled his expert's advice. Ben had fretted, but said he hoped to get the ban lifted before they left Phor 17.
"You hope?" she had asked incredulously. "I'm not jump-shocked---I'm fine! Why does Kirk let him win? It's not fair!"
Ben looked pained. "Kirk is the captain of this ship, Kira, and Ship Support overrules everybody when we're in transit. Dr. Beverly has asked, so have I, but the captain still says now. But maybe later....."
He tried to smile at her encouragingly, and she knew how this decision tore at him; blaming himself, as usual. She ground her teeth furiously, feeling trapped from all directions. She turned away from him, trying to get her anger under control for his sake, and stared at the Banteay Srei carving she had hung on her wall. In the bas-relief, Shri Krishna had to attack Bhisma (actually He almost attacked him) because Arjuna was unable to stop the wrath that Bhisma had unleashed. Arjuna promised Shri Krishna to take out Bhisma in battle. Kira winced in sympathy.
"Besides," Ben said into the silence, putting on a false cheer, the stop at Phor 17 will be short, just enough time to pick up some additional personnel and offload supplies. The true excitement is on Ciravis."
She turned her head and glared. "Don't wheedle me!" she barked.
"I'm not." He scowled unpleasantly, his own anger starting to rise. "I'm just suggesting you choose ground you can win, and right now you can't win, not until Bashir relents. I'm sorry, but that's the way it is."
"Great," she muttered, looking at her boots. "Thanks a lot."
He waved his hand at her desk. "You have your viewer and your glyphs project: work on that."
"I don't want to!"
"Fine! Sit and sulk like a child." Ben stamped out, and Kira kicked the base hard enough to sting.
"I haven't done anything wrong!" she shouted at the closing door, then threw herself down on her bed. Not far, not fair! she fumed. But glaring at the ceiling lost its charm after a while, so she got up and sat down resentfully at her viewer. I win if I do what Bashir wants: sure. She punched up her glyphs program, burying the psychiatrist in technical glyph-speak until he retreated in angry confusion---Dr. Bashir hated other people knowing things he didn't. The petty victory didn't spring her from her confinement, but it soothed her mood.
After Dr. Bashir stomped out, then leaned back and interlaced her fingers behind her head, imagining herself in a forest glade of the Naga's world, when the heat of high day shimmered through the jungle, lying heavy on the lowlands. She had climbed upward from the valley that morning, she reminded herself, seeking the Tiger, but he was elusive. On the hillside above the valley, she walked over high grass, breathing deep of the cool mountain air, then smiled as the Tiger turned and looked at her.
Greetings, Tiger, Kira said, bowing gracefully in her shimmering robes of the Moon-king, Soma.
Queen Rainbow. The Tiger bowed low, his teeth flashing white in the bright light of the jungle glade. Are you well?
The birds are flying up the mountain, flashing bright color. Kira turned and watched a flight of cranes racing upward across dark green. She stretched her hands toward them in blessing. Yes, I feel well.584Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlHloxL09tu
They fly to cheer you, Queen Rainbow. I have missed you.584Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiXHesO5QhT
You? she teased. When have you ever needed anyone but yourself, Terrible One? The Tiger stepped closer and looked down into her face, his eyes fiercely tender.584Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPOzupXU074
We of the Otherworld are one essence, Your Majesty. He raised her hand to his lips. And you and I are legend.584Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlbd98FVmFd
And he danced her away with him across the grass, laughing with her at the day's brightness. They danced and danced, bearing her away from all memories, redesigning the world as they willed.
She let the daydream fade and sighed, then stretched her hands languorously, thinking Tiger thoughts about Bashir. Confine me, will you? I know doorways you cannot imagine. And you will lose.
584Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFF8ldWPix4
