Beginning: A Star Trek Novel (New Frontier Reloaded Book 2)

by ROVER MARIE TOWLE

  Kejal's face twisted and he buried it against Mora's shoulder. The idea that this unstoppable, busy man was mortal reminded him of how different they were.

  Solids...they get old. They die when their cells can't sustain them anymore. My people are almost immortal.

  "I don't know what to do," he muttered. "I need to do something."

  Mora didn't speak for a long time. Outside, the rain lightened. Kejal counted the water drops falling into a puddle beneath the oval window.

  At last, Mora replied. "You can help me plan for the end. If you're willing, I would like you to sing at my burial."

  Burial.

  Kejal flinched at the word. It sounded so final.

  "I haven't decided on a coffin yet. I know I want something simple and biodegradable."

  The dread in his substance expanded.

  "And I would prefer to be buried at sunset. I think-- Kejal?" Mora gripped Kejal's wrist. "Kejal, relax. That hurts!"

  Kejal realized he gripped too tight and lifted his hand off Mora's arm.

  "Eventually, you will have to let me go," said Mora, his voice gentle.

  "I don't want to."

  Mora's sigh ruffled the hair above Kejal's ear. "No one does, but it is inevitable."

  "I'm afraid to watch. No, I'm terrified."

  "Terrified? Why?"

  Shaking his head, Kejal sat up to look his father in the eyes. Shadows crossed his face. "It's the unknown. What if I see something horrible? What if we make a mistake and bury you alive?"

  At that, Mora broke into a small, sad smile.

  "That's still two months away. Don't worry about that moment until it comes. You'll be ready for it by the time I reach that point. I promise you. I'll make sure you're prepared." He paused, squinting one eye. "Let me make you another promise, Kejal."

  "Like what?"

  "I'll give you a sign when I die. There won't be any doubt in your mind that my pagh escaped to freedom. No guesswork needed."

  "How?"

  "I don't know yet," Mora shrugged. "But you'll know it when you see it. I swear it."

  "I-- " Kejal jerked backwards. "Ew! Your nose is bleeding."

  "Ah, blast it." Mora snatched up the napkin he was using as a coaster for his tea mug and pressed it to his nose. "This isn't going to hold it. Go replicate me a handkerchief."

  Kejal ran to do that. The napkin was almost stained through by the time he got back. "Does that hurt, father?"

  Mora wrinkled his nose. "No, it's annoying." He leaned forward, letting the blood run out of his nostrils and onto the black handkerchief.

  "This is what terrifies me!" Kejal burst out. He did not care if his exclamation sounded childish. "This, right here! What if this is how you go? Humanoids die if they lose too much blood! What if you develop a nosebleed that won't stop?"

  "Uh-oh, nosebleed?" Aleexa appeared at Kejal's side. "They don't cause significant blood loss. Bajorans have about three thousand and six hundred milliliters of blood in their bodies." She studied Mora for several seconds. "Looks like you're a pressure bleeder."

  "Hm?"

  "Your nosebleeds always coincide with changes in the barometric pressure." She tilted her head. "And Bajor's shifts around a lot when one season is transitioning into the next."

  "It doesn't change that much."

  Chuckling, Aleexa made no move to help him. "True, but try explaining it to the capillaries in your nose. Is it slowing down at all?"

  "Mmhmm. They rarely last long. Kejal, I'm all right." Mora blew his nose, folded up the handkerchief until nothing wet would be accidentally touched and let Aleexa dispose of it. He smiled. "Don't look so worried. See? I'm fine."

  Kejal rubbed the back of his head. His skin was shiny, giving him the appearance of profuse sweat. "Okay. You're fine."

  "You aren't." Mora pulled himself upright and patted Kejal's shoulder. "You look shiny. How long have you been holding your shape?"

  "Too long." Kejal sighed.

  Before anyone said a word, he poured himself into the large container by the wall and tried to forget the images of his father's face covered in blood.

  Chapter 8: Hardheaded

  Mora seated himself at the desk in his study and synced his PADD with the computer console. Behind him, Odo sat on the day bed, watching the rain blow against the window.

  "Why choose a Bajoran appearance?"

  "Excuse me?"

  Mora gestured to his own face. "You have nose ridges."

  Odo reached up and lightly touched the three primitive ridges on his nose. "I can pass for a human if I want to." He frowned and the ridges disappeared, making him look completely human-- save for the lack of defined eyebrows. Then, with a blink, the ridges reformed. "But I prefer to look Bajoran. Everything I know began on Bajor."

  He faced the window again. Mora took a moment to admire Odo's ears. They looked so complete now. He had a defined helix, antihelix and even an antitragus. Tiny details he couldn't even grasp twenty years ago.

  No matter how Odo changed, his eyes remained the same shade of blue. Much paler than Mora's own.

  "Am I distracting you?" Odo asked coldly.

  "Not at all." Mora answered.

  "You can't resist studying me, can you?" He turned his head. "Do you think I don't feel your eyes boring a hole in me?"

  "I wasn't studying, Odo. I'm admiring. It's truly remarkable how far you've come."

  "You always say that."

  "Because I mean it." Mora tapped on his desktop. "You know, sometimes, I still miss having you over my shoulder."

  "Mm. What do you intend to write about?"

  The question took Mora's memory back so many years. To the times when Odo was young and curious and sticking his nose into everything.

  "I plan to write about a question. What makes life become life, Odo?"

  Odo snorted at the inquiry. "DNA is the foundation of life."

  "True..." Mora swiveled in his chair to fully face the window. He held up his hand and pinched something invisible between thumb and forefinger. "But what tells that DNA it's alive? What happens within the molecules to turn on life? What lights up a brain into a thinking machine? What really animates us? Is it chemicals, or is it truly something else? Some call it a spirit, a pagh, or life-force. What if life is governed by something we can't measure yet?"

  "I don't know. Kejal almost broke down into nothing. My body restored him using pieces of itself. It's why he looks like me."

  "Exactly!" Mora snapped his fingers. "Something happened when you conceived him, Odo. Something incredible and intangible enough to make me question life itself."

  "Doesn't the same thing happen in the womb when two parents mate to produce a child?"

  "Yes. The genes mix and multiply. Still, even then, what brings that mass of cells to life? What is behind that force?"

  "I always thought it was the chemical reactions. Neurotransmitters, proteins and so forth. Cells die if their processes are interrupted. Kill enough of them and the life form can't survive."

  "And what happens to the life, Odo?" Mora didn't know whether he asked for his sake or for Odo's input.

  Odo slowly shrugged his shoulders without taking his eyes off the window. The subtle stiffening of his posture gave away his discomfort at the subject matter.

  "I don't know, Doctor Mora. The electrical activity in your brain is energy, and energy changes form. Perhaps the energy behind the electrical impulses in your neurons becomes the heat energy that dissipates as a dead body cools. I...apologize if that sounds cruel."

  "No, no, I respect your hypothesis." Mora couldn't help but smile. "And where do you think the consciousness goes?"

  "Nowhere." Odo deadpanned. "It's electricity. Once it transforms into something else, you're gone. Poof. Like you never existed at all."

  "Strange...I have a hard time believing it's so simple. What is the point of life, of learning, if it all comes to nothing after we die?"

  Odo lowered his head and let his hands fall into his lap
. "You're asking the wrong person, Doctor Mora. Kejal and I...we will never die unless we are killed. We aren't as transient as you." He grunted, looked up again and started to chuckle. "Perhaps that is why most of my people prefer the Link over solids. Less grief, less loss. Heh, no wonder the Vorta still think we're gods."

  Mora leaned forward in his chair.

  "Odo, I'd like to make a pact with you."

  "Why?"

  "I want to." Mora peered up at him. "I told Kejal the same thing I'm about to tell you. When I die, Odo, and if there is something afterward, I will reach out and prove it to you."

  "Spoken like a scientist." Odo's voice had enough sarcasm in it to drown a Ferengi. "I'll make a note to look up the nearest medium when it's all over. So, when should I start? Right after you die? After the funeral? Tch. Signs from beyond the grave...hah! I think you're going senile."

  "Oh my! I'm so wounded!" Mora coughed a laugh at Odo's biting remarks. "You never change, do you?"

  "Hmph. You brought it up." Odo stood. "I'll let you get to work."

  "I enjoyed the conversation."

  "I'm glad someone did."

  With that, he left the room in silence. Thunder rumbled outside to fill it in.

  Mora arched an eyebrow at the doorway Odo went through. How could a simple sentence carry so much bitterness?

  Odo wasn't always that way. Sitting back, Mora stared at his computer console and remembered...

  He hummed to himself all throughout setup. Scanners and recording equipment were trained on the unknown sample's bucket. Last night, it did something remarkable without the recording devices running, and he hoped to capture its activity on record.

  Yes, last night, the creature showed it had some understanding of language. He asked it to shape shift a cube, and it did without any electrostatic prompting.

  Mora stated the date and time. Then he poured the unknown sample onto the table.

  "I know you understand some of what I say." Mora said to the inert liquid. "Become a cube."

  The gelatinous mass abruptly formed into a tan cube. He tapped on it, and it felt spongy.

  "A note for the log: The unknown sample responds to verbal commands." He looked down at the cube. "Liquefy."

  Nothing happened.

  Mora frowned.

  "Liquefy," he said again.

  Finally, the goo obeyed.

  Mora turned away to pick up his tricorder. He heard the swish indicating the life form was changing shape. Only this time, it lasted far longer than normal. He faced the table again.

  The sample was growing. It rose higher and higher, and suddenly it broadened. At the top, it grew rounder. Four tentacles sprouted off the sides and transformed into webbed hands and feet.

  Mora gasped and leaned forward.

  It had eyes! Primitive, colorless, but eyes nonetheless! And they were looking right at him!

  He waved his hand. Its eyes followed the movement-- it could see!

  After a moment, it lifted its hand and imitated the gesture.

  "Oh!" Mora barely contained his delight at capturing this on his recording devices.

  He touched his nose with his fingertips. The unknown sample did the same on itself. He reached out to touch its hand, and it let him. Its surface felt like warm, shifting ballistic gelatin. Fluid, but formed enough to maintain its shape.

  Suddenly, the alien tried to stand up. Its legs couldn't support it and it abruptly splattered like a broken egg. Before Mora reacted, the creature oozed into its bucket, which he had placed on the floor earlier.

  Over the next week, Mora encouraged the life form to use its new shape, but it didn't seem to understand facial expressions at all. Mora noticed it mimicking his facial and body movements. It did not appear capable of speech, but it responded to verbal commands approximately half the time.

  The specimen improved upon its humanoid appearance more each day. Mastering its limbs became a struggle Mora hadn't anticipated. It lacked many of the reflexes humanoids took for granted.

  Mora held his arms out to the creature. It was sitting on the table, looking at him.

  "Come on," he said, wiggling his fingers. "Take my hands."

  The specimen grasped his hands. He took care not to grip them too tightly.

  "Remember now, your legs have to be very solid to handle your weight."

  Looking down, the unknown sample concentrated on its legs. Mora gave a tug and suddenly it was standing on its two feet for the first time. The creature's clear eyes widened. It appeared frightened by this new posture.

  "Good...good! You're standing up! Now I'll be right behind you. All right? I won't let you fall." Mora slipped behind the alien and grasped its upper arms. "Whenever you're ready. Take it slowly."

  The alien's posture stiffened. It glanced over its shoulder as if reassuring itself of his presence. Then it moved one foot forward.

  "That's it." Mora said. He gave the creature a nudge. "Now balance your weight on that leg and bring the other foot forward."

  The specimen obeyed and took its first wobbly steps.

  They practiced this for days until, one morning, the unknown sample shook Mora's hands off and stumbled ahead by itself. It walked all the way to the far wall.

  And Mora swore its colorless eyes twinkled.

  Time began to pass.

  Mora stepped into his lab early one morning and spotted the alien completing a shift. It stared at itself in a full length mirror. He noticed it mimicked his slicked back hairstyle and that it was very, very naked. There were no external genitalia and it lacked the cleft in its buttocks. It had extremely basic facial features like a sculpture ready to be fleshed out.

  The creature stood there, poking at its own skin and moving its lips. No teeth yet, but there appeared to be something resembling a tongue in its mouth.

  "Hello," Mora whispered, conscious that it still wasn't used to hearing with its ears.

  Startled, the specimen turned completely around to face him. Its eyes were vivid, electric blue.

  Mora smiled and folded his hands in front of him. "You're looking well this morning. How do you feel?"

  The unknown sample imitated his stance.

  "Use your mouth," Mora pointed to his own lips. "Just like we practiced."

  Suddenly, the alien frowned! A spontaneous expression without prompting! Then it blinked its eyelids and spoke its first words as if it had been speaking its entire life.

  "What am I?"

  "What are you?" Mora mumbled to himself. His mind returned to the present and he whispered the same response he gave so many years ago. "Good question. Let's find out."

  For the next few days, Mora went right to his study upon waking and hardly came out to eat or socialize. The treatise and the question it asked of him clung to his mind like a vine, and he wanted to make sure he finished it before he became too sick to write.

  On the fourth night, Mora fell asleep at his desk. His dreams took him back to the accretion disk he remembered from before, and there he bore witness to the new star shining inside its nebular shell.

  .o

  Noisy space ports weren't Odo's favorite place in the universe. However, he tolerated it on this sunny mid-morning. He'd been awaiting the appointed day since he arrived on Bajor a week ago.

  Thirty years, and their love survived.

  Odo looked down at the Rigelian chocolates clutched in his hands. He never imagined Kira remaining single after his departure. In fact, at their parting, he silently wished her well with the hope of her finding someone else. Learning she never married surprised him.

  That woman never ceases to amaze me.

  "Shuttle one-nine-nine-five now disembarking."

  The announcement brought him back to full alert.

  Kira was the fourth person off the shuttle. She wore a sleeveless maroon jumpsuit with a flowing purple vest held in place by a thin gold belt. A matching barrette kept her hair bound in a loose ponytail.

  At her brilliant smile, Odo stopped noticing th
e disorder in the space port. He hurried to greet her near one of the large, decorative domed windows. The sunlight shone in her auburn hair. Her brown eyes almost melted him on the spot. Age had not touched her beauty at all as far as he was concerned.

  "I brought you something," they said at the same time.

  Kira chuckled. Odo smiled and handed her the box of Rigelian chocolates. She offered him something wrapped in cloth.

  "How was the trip?" Odo asked while he untied the twine around his gift.

  "Pretty quiet. I think I slept for half of-- oh! Delicious!" Kira ate one of the chocolates. "Mm, thank you...the trip wasn't too bad."

  Odo set aside the cloth and looked curiously at the four PADDS held together by large rubber bands. Without separating them, he switched on the top one.

  Detective novels, all written by Tixom. His favorite author.

  "Ah, he finished the Shaarlek series. Thank you," he said, his eyes lighting up. "Nobody writes a mystery quite like a Talaxian."

  Kira leaned against him, grinning. "I thought you might like that."

  "I do. Very much." Odo turned his head and kissed her forehead. "Where will you be staying?"

  "Ah, about that. Doctor Mora told me he has a guest room available." She shrugged. "I took him up on the offer. It'll save me the hotel credits. Plus, it means I'm right there with you. No traveling back and forth into the city."

  Of course Doctor Mora would meddle with that. This time, though, Odo realized he didn't mind it so much.

  "I see your point." He picked up Kira's travel bag. Its weight didn't hinder him at all. They walked casually towards the hover tram pickup dock.

  Kira looped her arm around his. "How has Doctor Mora been since he left the station?"

  Odo accepted the gesture. "Better. At the moment he is working on a scientific treatise. Don't be surprised if he jumps up and disappears to write something in it."

  "That's how scientists are." She squinted in the sunbeams streaming through the trees. "How about Kejal?"

  "I think he's over the shock of Doctor Mora's collapse. However, I wouldn't discuss death around him if I were you. He still gets upset."

  A tram pulled up at the dock. Odo told the driver the coordinates to Doctor Mora's house. He held the door open for Kira, and didn't climb in until she properly settled in her seat. Her travel bag found a nice home near their feet.