This Gray Spirit

by Heather Jarman

  Shar indicated the holographic projection of the Yrythny chromosome. “Here, on the nineteenth chromosome is where the most critical deletions and mutations are occurring.” He highlighted the segment in question. “The genes in this segment are responsible for frontal lobe development—upper brain functions. In this segment over here…” Shar continued speaking from the text he’d memorized earlier. Having reviewed his results dozens of times with Vaughn and his own staff, Minister M’Yeoh and his committee, and the senior Assembly staff, he could recite this presentation in his sleep.

  No one had slept much in the two days since the Defiant returned from the Consortium. The whole crew had been enjoying reunions among friends, staying up late swapping stories, and those who could finally took long-overdue shore leave. The Defiant hadn’t been back an hour before Prynn was grilling Juarez and Candlewood about any and all knowledge they might have about Vanìmel’s oceans. Earlier today she had caught the first shuttle to the Coral Sea, leaving word that she would be back to Luthia in time for tomorrow’s launch, but not to call her back to the Defiant unless the Cheka, the Borg and the Romulans decided to drop by. After hearing Nog’s version of the Consortium trip, Shar couldn’t say he blamed her.

  Shar had spent his time working on his research, promising himself that as soon as he finished he would start analyzing the Yrythny chromosome with an eye to helping his own people. He still believed the “Turn Key” segments might provide clues as to how he might fix weaknesses in Andorian chromosomes. He would focus on his own projects later, after he’d finished reporting to this surprisingly large group of Yrythny.

  “Over time, the Yrythny have selected their consorts from a narrow pool of genotypes, enabling recessive mutations to be passed down with increasing frequency,” Shar continued. The holoprojection of the chromosome was replaced by a simplified graphic of a Mendelian-style flow chart, showing five generations of Yrythny genotypes. He kept expecting to be interrupted with questions; if he were at home, he’d have been answering questions every minute or so. But he suspected his audience was still reeling from the revelations in his research. It wasn’t every day an alien presented a planet with information that had the potential to alter thousands of years of rigidly held social and cultural traditions. He couldn’t fathom what would happen, long term, with the Yrythny. The leadership might try to dismiss Shar’s work, continuing with the status quo. Already the Assembly had imposed strict controls on who had access to the data, but word traveled rapidly in Luthia and many uninvited guests had shown up for Shar’s presentations. Over time, Shar was confident his discovery would have impact. The farmer-scientists on the Hebshu Peninsula would assure that.

  Shar deactivated the hologram and the room lighting came up. “That concludes my presentation. If anyone desires further clarification, I’ve uploaded my data to the Luthia Scientific Archives and the Assembly network. Thank you for coming.” He turned to collect the few items he’d brought with him, loading them into his briefcase. When he turned back around, he discovered no one had left. Before he could ask what his Yrythny colleagues were waiting for, every scientist, engineer, and ordinary citizen who had attended his lecture rose to their feet, all eyes focused on him. His antennae tingled, overwhelmed by the deeply felt emotions in the room. Scanning their faces, looking into their eyes, Shar saw mixtures of amazement, gratitude and shock greeting him. He fumbled for the right words, but Nog rescued him, springing to his feet and launching into hearty applause. The Yrythny stared, watching Nog smack his palms together, but gradually, they followed suit, until the entire room thundered.

  Shar blinked back incredulity. I am at the beginning of a path I’ve been searching for my whole life. I’ve found my mission. He looked over at Nog, who hadn’t relented, and back at his Yrythny colleagues. Lacking the wherewithal to share what this moment meant to him, Shar accepted their adulation.

  Thriss will be proud.

  Time to relax, Ezri thought. She splashed some perfume on her wrists that had been among the dozens of gifts she’d received, baskets and packages stacked atop the table in her Luthian quarters. Simply standing in one place, squeezing the plush rug between her toes, had an unexpected charm. Doing nothing was a nice change. She’d hardly had a chance to enjoy Julian. Studying for and delivering testimony before the judicial panel had consumed a good deal of her time, as did preparing to return to their mission and wrapping up loose ends with the Yrythny. Since it was their last night in Luthia, Ezri felt like she deserved to be idle.

  Emerging from the bathroom, she yanked her crimson robe tight and plopped down on the couch beside Julian, tucking her bare feet behind her. “Have I told you how wonderful it feels to have this back?” She fingered the robe’s lapels. “I should have taken it from our quarters before you all left for the Consortium, but now I have the fun of rediscovering something I missed.”

  “I hope you missed me as much as the bathrobe,” Julian said dryly. Scooting closer to her, Julian reached around her shoulders and pulled her close. Ezri snuggled into him, draped over his lap and nestled her head in the crook of his arm. He ran his fingers through her hair, smoothing and tucking it behind her ears.

  “Your hair is longer,” he observed.

  “It’s been two weeks, not two months,” she laughed.

  “Yes, but did you know that a Trill’s hair is capable of growing half a centimeter a week?”

  Leave it to Julian to prove his point, no matter what the circumstances.“We could continue discussing my amazing follicles, or you could find other equally intriguing aspects of my anatomy to study.” She walked her fingers up his neck and ruffled the hair on the back of his head.

  “As much as that suggestion appeals to me, I think I want to talk to you before we further my studies of Trill anatomy.” Julian linked their fingers together. Bringing her hand up to his lips, he placed a kiss on each knuckle.

  “Isn’t the woman supposed to be the one who likes to talk?” Ezri pouted.

  “No, seriously. We haven’t talked much about what happened while we were apart. You clearly have something on your mind,” Julian said. “When you aren’t being frivolous, you’re quite pensive. I’d like you to share it with me.”

  Rising from Julian’s lap, Ezri curled into the couch, resting her cheek on the cushions. She studied her lap while she struggled to find the right words.

  “You were right,” she said finally, meeting his eyes. “I still haven’t found my equilibrium.”

  He waited patiently for her to elaborate at her own pace.

  “I was so sure of myself, Julian. So sure I could do it all. And you were right. I’d started to believe no challenge was beyond me. That I had no limits. But this experience taught me otherwise. My time here wasn’t what I thought it would be. It was, in short, kind of humiliating.”

  “That’s hardly what I’ve heard. The Yrythny were wowed by your diplomatic savvy. The compromise you negotiated before Shar made his discovery is still going to be ratified, except now some of the inter-caste taboos will be lifted for colonists. You blazed the trail.”

  “See, that’s the thing. I didn’t blaze the trail,” she rolled her eyes, embarrassed. “Technically, Curzon, Lela, Audrid, and Jadzia did. They did most of the work. Even the speech I gave at the Assembly that first day? I stole it from Lela.”

  “What’s the benefit of having a symbiont if you don’t learn from past lives?”

  “I’m not supposed to live my past lives and that’s what Ive been doing. By the time I started working on the compromise, it was Curzon doing the work, not Ezri.” Ezri brought her knees up into her chest. “Being joined isn’t supposed to work like that. I’m supposed to augment the symbiont’s experiences with my own, but sometimes it feels like Dax has already done it all.”

  “Ezri, I think you’re being hard on yourself—” Julian tried to hug her, but Ezri backed away.

  “I’m not asking for pity, Julian,” she said earnestly. “Honest. Dax’s past hosts made incredibl
e contributions to the Federation. Books could be written about Curzon and Jadzia alone! But then the superlative Jadzia is followed up with Ezri Tigan, who didn’t want to be joined in the first place. I’m kind of the place-holding host until some brilliant initiate can receive Dax after I die.”

  Julian took Ezri’s hand and squeezed it, willing her to look him in the eye. “Listen to me. Right now, you’re giving Dax experiences none of the other hosts could. None of them ever ventured on an exploratory mission like this one. The things you’ve seen—and will see in the years to come—will be different from anything the others experienced.”

  Grateful for his sweet words, Ezri kissed Julian’s palm. She knew, however, that she needed to own up to her mistakes. “I had no idea what was being asked of me when I agreed to help the Yrythny. Part of me thought that I needed to prove to Commander Vaughn, and to the crew, that I was good enough to be his first officer, to be a leader. That choosing the command track was the right decision at this point in my personal evolution.” She sighed. “But then when I started working with all these committees…I’m not an ambassador or an anthropologist. It became easier to know what to do when I allowed Lela or Curzon to take the lead instead of myself.”

  “In the end, though, it was Ezri who triumphed,” Julian pointed out. “Nothing Dax had done could have helped you. When you trusted your experiences and training, you succeeded brilliantly.”

  She quirked a half-smile. “I know. That part I feel good about. When I think back to the previous two weeks…not so much. I was a fool. Poor Shar, I think he knew it and he was very, very patient with me.”

  “All’s well that ends well?”

  “Yeah. I suppose.”

  A beep sounded from the wall console. Ezri looked over and saw the message light blinking. “I’d better check that. With us leaving in the morning, you never know what might be coming up at the last minute.”

  She crossed the room to pull up the message, quickly scanning the contents. “It’s from the judiciary panel. They’ll have a ruling on Jeshoh’s case tomorrow morning. Is it a good sign that they’ve come back with a decision so quickly?” Part of Ezri worried, hoping her testimony had helped his case. What happened on the Sagan was an aberration from the Jeshoh she’d grown to like and admire in her time on Vanìmel.

  “If you think about it, there wasn’t that much to decide. His guilt wasn’t in question, more what the consequences would be.”

  “I’m glad we’ll know soon.”

  “And yet another triumph for Ezri. Without you, Jeshoh might have gone through with Tlaral’s plan. You might have saved him—and Keren—a lot of heartache.”

  Shoving her hands in her pockets, Ezri said, “Are you hungry? I’m hungry.”

  Julian laughed. “Not so much hungry, but thirsty. How about—”

  “—a Tarkelian tea. You’re so predictable,” she said affectionately. “Sorry, you’ll have to wait until we’re back on Defiant to indulge that particular vice. Tell you what, though, try this.” She tossed him a self-heating bulb from among her gifts. “Local brew. You might like it.” For herself, she selected a slice of a fruit torte she’d grown to like during the official dinner parties she’d attended. Someone who’d apparently noticed sent her a dozen.

  “Not bad,” Julian said after an appreciative sip. “We should save one for the replicators to analyze.”

  “That’s a good idea. In fact, I should do the same with all the—OW!” Ezri dropped her plate on the table and hopped up on one foot while massaging the bruised toes of the other. Bending over, she reached for the offending item. “Your dufflebag belongs in the middle of the rug?” she said with mock annoyance.

  “I was so eager to see you I didn’t bother to put it away in the sleeproom.”

  “Yes, well explain that to my toes,” she said, hefting the bag onto an empty chair. “Hey…what’s this—” Ezri removed a padd from inside. Clicking it on, she thumbed through the contents. She read aloud, “‘Lughor pulled her close and bit her cheek, snarling, “You will be my mate, my Ngara—’ Umm, Julian, what are you doing with Burning Hearts of Qo’noS?”

  “Oh, that.” He tapped his foot absently. “Commander Vaughn was finished with it, so he handed it off to me.”

  “Did he say if he liked it?”

  “I asked him. He just rolled his eyes.”

  Ezri continued perusing the padd, thumbing through a few more screens. “You know, Jadzia wouldn’t consider this fiction, she’d see it as an instruction manual.” She raised a teasing eyebrow.

  “And Ezri?” Julian said, rising from the couch.

  “You want to find out?”

  “Did you even sleep last night?” Nog asked, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

  Shar looked up from his computer terminal. After dinner, he’d come straight back to his Luthian quarters to work on his chromosomal studies. Once the Defiant resumed its mission his time would, by necessity, belong to Vaughn and the needs of the mission. Returning to Deep Space 9 having made meaningful progress on his goals would go a long way to silencing those who had cast aspersions on his choices (most notably, his zhavey). “It’s morning?”

  “Morning usually is when the sun comes out. Unless this world is backward and they call it morning when it’s dark outside.” Nog padded over to the replicator, ordered up a root beer and collapsed on a chair.

  “Adrenaline must have kept me up,” Shar said. He closed the file he’d been working on and uploaded it to the Defiant.“Yesterday was a rather unique day for me.”

  “Don’t let it go to your head, Ensign. Even if you solve the universe’s problems, I still outrank you.” Nog winked and took a swig of root beer.

  “Noted, sir,” Shar said, suppressing a smile. “Do you want to grab breakfast here or wait until we return to Defiant?

  “What exactly is a Yrythny breakfast?”

  “Fish, shmshu cheese on kelp cakes, sea melons—”

  Nog’s face puckered. “I’ll eat on the Defiant, thanks. Grubcakes in slug sauce. That’s a meal.”

  The door chime sounded. Since Nog still sleepily nursed his soda, Shar figured he’d better see who their visitor was.

  “Keren—” he said. Her rumpled clothes and grayed complexion bespoke the stress she’d been through since they’d landed at Luthia. He hadn’t talked privately with her since they’d left for House Perian to hunt the raiders.

  “Try not to be so surprised, Ensign ch’Thane,” Keren said lightly. “Your feelings are showing.”

  “What? Oh, of course. My antennae.”

  “I wanted to tell you about the ruling before you heard it officially.” She peeked into Shar’s quarters and noticing Nog, said, “Can we go someplace to talk?”

  “The courtyard?”

  She nodded.

  As she sat down, Keren dropped a small backpack on the ground beside the bench. Both shifted uncomfortably, neither knowing how to broach the events of the previous days. Finally Keren said, “The panel issued their findings for Jeshoh and me. They let me off easy. When the first colonists leave Vanìmel I will be with them. They’ve decided exile is better than prison. I think they’re worried that I might be a martyr to whatever is left of the underground.”

  “You would have tried to go off-world anyway, wouldn’t you?” Shar asked. “Now that your people have a working defense against the web weapons—”

  “Yes. But I have to admit that being sent away and never being allowed to return is a sobering thought. Whether the colonies are successful or not, I will live out my life elsewhere.” Keren reached over, stroking the velvety petals of a trumpet flower. “This is still my home and I love it.”

  I wonder how I would feel if I could never return to Andor. The thought struck him as ironic, considering he’d been avoiding going back for over four years. The time has come. I’m ready for the shelthreth. And until the thought crossed his mind, Shar hadn’t known that he would choose the shelthreth when his current mission was over. In a few days, he’
d sit down with Commander Vaughn and negotiate the terms of his leave. The more he imagined making a life commitment to Anichent, Dizhei and Thriss, the more excited he became.

  “Understandably, Jeshoh’s sentence isn’t quite as lenient as mine,” Keren continued. “He will serve a prison sentence. The number of years will be decided after Tlaral’s hearing wraps up.”

  “After prison, isn’t he free? There aren’t any more restrictions imposed on him.”

  “Yes. At that point, he will join me wherever I am…” She gripped the edge of the bench, her shoulders tense.

  A sense of dread filled Shar. “What is it, Keren?”

  “With his position, with his involvement in the underground, the panel decided that they couldn’t excuse his relationship with me.” Closing her eyes, she whispered, “He’ll never be able to go into the waters.”

  Her bravery, her resolve in the face of these consequences, humbled Shar. After spending her life working for the right to take a consort and have offspring, she wouldn’t have the chance unless she chose someone other than Jeshoh. Having witnessed their devotion to each other, Shar couldn’t fathom that she would abandon Jeshoh now.

  “Of course I’ll wait for him, Shar,” Keren said. Seeing his puzzled expression, she clarified, “You’re wearing your feelings again.”

  “I’m sorry. I wish there was a way…”

  “We knew the risks.” With a distant look in her eyes, she said, “Jeshoh and I will have a home together someday. I know we will.” She patted his leg. “I have another reason for visiting. To say goodbye, yes, but I have a gift.”

  “But—”

  “No protests.” Reaching into her backpack, Keren removed a sealed container about the size of a dinner plate. “The eggs stripped from House Perian couldn’t all be saved. Most of them had been out of the water for too long under variable temperatures and became nonviable. The government destroyed them, but before they did I persuaded them to let me give you an egg pouch in thanks for your research.” Reaching out to take his hand, she turned it palm up and placed the container into it, smiling gently. “I know what you’re trying to do for your people, Shar. This way, you have proper samples to work with and not just computer models.”