by Diane Duane
"Meantime, once they've handled what they have to do aboard ship, they're most welcome to our facilities," Mr. Tanzer said. "In fact, Commander, if I may say so, a lot of the people in here are rather hoping your crew will join them. They're incredibly curious. None of us have ever had the chance to talk to a Rihannsu before."
Ael noticed, to her considerable surprise, that the translator was not merely rendering it from the Basic 153 word "Romulan"; the man was actually saying "Rihannsu"—and with a tolerable accent. "If they wish to," she said, looking more carefully at Mr. Tanzer than she had at first, "they certainly may, and thank you kindly. Will you excuse me? I need to talk to them."
"Certainly."
The Doctor and the Recreation Officer and the rock all went off together, leaving Ael with her little group. With their usual cool discipline they all sank down together, sitting cross-legged on the strange, soft floor as they would have after workout in Bloodwing's little gym.
"What of it, my own?" she said. "Are you well, or will you shortly be that way? And can you hold to your oaths in this place, under the eyes of strangers and under these circumstances? For surely none of us have ever been this sorely tested, or will be. Anyone who thinks that he or she might be tempted to do our old enemies evil in an unguarded moment, say it now. I will not hold it against you. You will go back to Bloodwing in honor for a bitter truth told, and courage in telling it."
They all looked at her soberly, her faithful group—the many familiar faces that had followed her into battle so many times before. Fair little N'alae with her placid eyes and deadly hands, silent Khoal, great lanky Dhiemn with his farm-child's hands and his swordsharp mind; Rhioa and Ireqh and Dhiov and Ejiul and T'maekh, and many another—they all watched her, quite silent, and no one moved. "Be certain," Ael said softly. "This is to our everlasting shame and my own dishonor should we fail. Poor tattered rag that my honor will be, once Command finds out what we're up to—yet I would not tear it any worse."
Dhiov, who was always timid except when it came to slighting herself, or killing said abruptly, "Those things with the tentacles—"
"Are people," Ael said. "Never doubt it. They look horrible to me too, but I make no doubt that their gorge rises somewhat at us." There was soft laughter over that. "They have their own version of the Passion too; they will defend their ship and their shipmates as brilliantly and as bravely as you will. The same for the blue people and the orange ones and the brown ones and the ones who look like hlai."
"And the rock?" said Dhiemn, with his usual dry humor.
"Especially the rock, I think. Elements, my children, what a start that one gave me. May I be preserved from seeing any more of that kind of thing; if Air or Fire should walk up and speak to me, I doubt I could bear it."
More laughter. They were relaxing, and Ael was glad to see it. "So, we're merry. Have you learned your duties well enough to be sure of them?"
Various heads bowed "yes." "It's not hard, khre'Riov," said Ejiul. "Most of the positions we're being taught involve only communications. Any consoles we need to read have been reprogrammed for Rihannsu, and the instructions usually coach you along."
"Be certain, now. There will be no room for mistakes once Javelin and Rea's Helm and Battlequeen get here."
There was a sound of indrawn breath. Ael looked over at little dark Nniol, who was suddenly staring at the carpet. "O Air and Earth, khre'Riov," he said. "My sister was serving on Javelin last I heard."
Ael looked at him. "Nniol, that's hard. Will your oath hold?"
He looked up, stricken. "Khre'Riov—I don't know."
"Who must we ask to find out?" she said, very softly.
He stared at the carpet again. "We were close," he said. And after a long pause, he said, "I think I had best go back."
She looked at him, then nodded swiftly. "There's mnhei'sahe indeed—painful, but pure. Stay with us for the moment, Nniol: I'll speak to the Captain. Anyone else?"
No one spoke.
"Very well. Shall we work out? We haven't had time to stretch as yet today, and we'll need to be limber tomorrow." Ael grinned at them. "Let's show them how it's done, shall we?"
There were answering grins all around, even from Nniol. They rose again, all together, and after reverence done toward ch'Ríhan, in the Elements' direction ("That way," Dhiemn said, pointing at the floor; he always knew), Ael led them through the preliminary stretches and focusing. By the time they had gotten through the first few throws and choke-breaks and had broken into small freestyle groups to work out, some of the Enterprise people had drifted over, very casually, to watch them. Ael stepped away from her people as a cheerful free-for-all was starting among them—N'alae and Khoal dominating it as usual, everyone leaping at them and being thrown halfway to the horizon for their pains.
Ael wiped her brow and looked, under cover of the motion, at the Enterprise people. They were maintaining very carefully their pose of casualness; but Ael saw plainly enough that some of them wanted to dive into that fight too and try their luck. At least some of the hominids did; there was no telling what that tall purple-tentacled thing with all the writhing eyes might be thinking about—or, for that matter, young Ensign Rock, who was standing next to it. None of the hominids, at least, looked hostile. They looked hopeful, like children waiting to be asked to play … though their faces pretended mild interest and their conversation was calm.
She felt eyes on her, looked up. Enterprise's Captain was coming toward her, along with Lieutenant Tanzer. The Captain was in fact looking slightly past her, at the free-for-all, and if she was any good at reading Terrans, Ael thought she caught a kind of itchy expression on his face that indicated he, too, would like to get in on it But there was regret there, too. Poor man, Ael thought, he doesn't have the leisure either. . . .
"Commander," said the Captain, and paused beside her, watching the madness going on in the corner, as little N'alae picked up Dhiemn bodily and tossed him at Lhair and Ameh. They caught him, barely.
"Captain," she said. "Just a workout; 'llaekh-ae'rl,' we call it."
"'Laughing murder'? Very apt … My people tell me that yours have been picking up the parts they'll play very fast indeed."
"I have no time for slow learners, Captain," Ael said. "And to tell you truth, few of them survive long on Neutral Zone patrol, or on our frontier with the Klingons.—I'm glad you came now; for I have a problem. My crewman Nniol t'AAnikh has kin on one of the incoming ships, Javelin. I cannot allow him to be at or near a combat station when we engage that ship. I am sending him back to Bloodwing."
He looked at her narrowly. "Certainly, Commander. Is it a matter of trust?"
Ael restrained herself from frowning at him, though it annoyed her that he should instantly think the worst of one of her people. "Yes, it is," she said. "He trusts me enough to tell me that he does not know whether he can trust himself in such a situation. It is my responsibility to guard his honor, just as by speaking he guards mine."
Perhaps the Captain got a sense of how nettled she felt, for his face changed quickly. "Of course, Commander. Do as you think best. When he's ready to go back, just send him down to the Transporter Room; I'll see to it that they expect him."
"Thank you. Oh, now, see that. . . ." She had glanced away from the Captain at a sudden lull in the scrapping behind her. There were several of the Enterprise crewpeople among her own—a couple of hominids, one blue-skinned and one fair like the Captain—and one of the strange violet-tentacled things with all the eyes. The fairer of the two hominids, a small slim man, was making gestures that approximated N'alae's last throw, evidently asking her something about it; and Ael smiled as N'alae reached out to the man with that demure little expression of hers. The crewman set himself as well as he could to prevent her, Ael gave him credit for that; but all his preparation did the poor fellow no good. He went flying, came down hard and slapped the floor—then bounced up again, none the worse for wear but looking downright delighted.
"Can you all do th
at?" the Captain said from beside Ael, watching the business with the same rueful delight as his crewman.
"No," Ael said, not without some rue on her own side. Many a time poor N'alae had tried to teach her some of the finest points of llaekh-ae'rl, the delicate shifts of balance that required a mind that could root itself in earth, or the metal of deckplates. But Ael had too much fire and air in her, and could not root. She had become resigned to defending herself with a phaser, or her mind. "N'alae is our specialist in the art."
"Uh-oh," said the Captain, a sound that Ael's translator refused to render. Nevertheless, she understood it, for the tall purple sheaf of tentacles glided over to N'alae and was saying something to her, gesturing with liquid grace and many arms.
"That's a Sulamid," the Captain said. "Mr. Athendë from Maintenance. Hand-to-hand combat is one of his hobbies. . . ."
That joke Ael understood, and she laughed hard for a few seconds, enjoying the sensation immensely. How long had it been since she laughed for pure merriment, not out of bitterness? She saw various heads turn among her crew; evidently it was a sound they were glad to hear, too, and some of the stiffness and formality seemed to fall away from them on hearing it. N'alae laughed also—that dangerous sound Ael knew very well—and held out her arms to the Sulamid, which obligingly wrapped numerous of its tentacles around them like thickvine running up a tree's branches. There was a moment of swaying and straining, long seconds when nothing seemed to happen; and then with startling suddenness N'alae was standing all by herself again, and Mr. Athendë was sailing through the air, eyes and tentacles waving and whipping around. He hit the deck without a sound—evidently the tentacles made good shock absorbers—and bounced up again.
All Ael's people were cheering N'alae, who looked flushed and surprised. But, surprisingly, the Enterprise people standing around—and there were quite a lot of them now—were cheering her too; and Athendë swayed and bent double in a deep bow to her, saying something Ael couldn't quite catch, but something that made N'alae laugh.
Ael glanced sideways and saw the Captain's look, thoughtful and impressed. "We could learn a lot from her," he said. "None of us have ever been able to pull that on Athenë—not even Mr. Spock. After we finish our business at Levaeri, would you consider lending that lady to us for a little while? …"
"I am not sure we would want to give up the advantage," Ael said soberly. "I shall ask her, however."
The two of them turned away from the rapidly growing group in the corner, strolling away across Recreation. "Your people have been very kind to ours since we came here, Captain," she said.
The Captain raised his shoulders and let them fall again in a careless gesture. "Simple interspecies amity," he said. "The spirit of brotherhood."
The translator made little sense of the last word; but Ael understood why—it having been one of many oddities she had noticed long ago when working on her own translator program. "There is a question you might answer for me," she said. "Why does the word imply male siblings and not female as well?"
"It's an old word," said the Captain, looking slightly embarrassed. "'Kinship' would be closer to the meaning."
"But a word's true meaning, its intended meaning, is always implicit in its structure," Ael said. "Evidently there were those who thought, when your language was forged, that only men were capable of that brand of kinship—and that by implication it was impossible between two women, or between female and male. How did they justify that in the face of evidence otherwise? Or did they simply wish half your species to think that it could not set back to back and fight for life and the things that mattered?"
He said nothing, and there was something about his silence that troubled Ael, so that she pressed her advantage to see what lay under the silence. "What about it, Captain? How is it that only brothers may fight, be valiant, persevere, defy deaths great and small—while judging half your race outside of that burden, that privilege, from the beginning?"
"I have no answer for you," the Captain said, all tact, refusing to be drawn.
"Indeed. One wonders why the other half of your species put up with yours for so long."
"Perhaps they got their revenge," the Captain said, "by letting my half of the species think it was right about them—and letting it go to Hell as a result."
Ael's eyebrow went up in surprised and pleased acknowledgment of the Captain's shot across her bows. He looked oddly at her, as if even through his anger seeing something familiar in her, though Ael had no idea what and at the moment didn't care. "Besides," the Captain said, "there's one characteristic of being a brother that you didn't mention. Liking. Brothers have that for one another, generally. I'm not sure I could have that much of that kind of liking for a woman."
Ael briefly considered the steady, sure relationship she had sensed between the Captain and Uhura—the flashes of humor, the utter trust—and realized with wry amusement that she was being insulted. Why, she wasn't yet sure; so for the moment she put the matter aside and merely considered the Captain's premise. "Liking. Well. Brothers may certainly develop it. It may make living with one another easier. But it's hardly necessary to brotherhood proper. Say my brother and I quarrel; then he falls in danger of his life. Do I let him lie there, because I no longer 'like' him? Or do I save him—simply because he is my brother, because I have said that he is forever someone important to me—and I'm bound by what I have said?"
"I'm not sure that's what I meant."
"Neither am I. But in any case it is mnhei'sahe. The bondage beyond reason, beyond hope or pain or escape. The bond that not even betrayal can break—only snarl around the heart until the betrayer's heart scars. The bond of word, of choice. Unbreakable."
"Death—"
"Death avails nothing against it. Your parents, your own brother who is dead—oh, yes, we know. What use is intelligence but for the knowing of one's enemies? Have you come to love your relatives any less for their being dead? Or perhaps more?"
The Captain said nothing.
"So you see the nature of this bondage between beings who fight the same fight," Ael said. "A going in the same direction, for a little while, or for a life, that's all that's needed. The decision to go in company. Liking—" Ael shrugged one shoulder. "What need have allies of such a thing?"
"None," the Captain said, "I'm sure."
They walked along in silence a moment longer. Then Ael paused by a curious thing—a table with a holographic projection above it of a cube divided into many smaller cubes, eight of them to an edge. "What is this?"
"Four-dimensional chess," said the Captain. "Are you familiar with the game?"
"No."
The Captain smiled at her, and a very odd smile it was, one that made Ael curious. "If we have time—"
"I would be delighted to learn. Now, if you like; I dare say I can spare a few minutes to learn the rules."
That smile got wider, and the Captain pulled out one of the chairs that stood by the table, offering it to her. But neither of them had time to sit down; that infernal whooping began again. Heads went up all over the room, and a lot of the people who had been talking to Ael's folk excused themselves hurriedly and ran out.
"Red alert," the Vulcan's calm voice said, made gigantic over the ship's annunciator system. "Battle stations, battle stations. This is no drill."
The Captain slapped one hand down on a switch on the game table. "Kirk here."
"Captain, we have a Romulan vessel at extreme sensor range. K'tinga-class vessel, ID'ing as Romulan ship Javelin."
"They're early," Ael said, alarmed.
"Have they hailed us?" said the Captain.
"Not as yet, but they will soon be within range to do so."
"We're going to need some more of your people up on the Bridge, Commander. Mr. Spock, are Antecenturions Aidoann and Hvaid up there?"
"Affirmative, Captain."
"Have them handle any communications that come in. No visual until everyone on the Bridge is covered by an armed Romulan. Transfe
r control to the Auxiliary Bridge immediately and send Mr. Sulu and Mr. Chekov down there to handle things."
"Done, sir."
"Good. Give me allcall. Commander—"
"This is t'Rllaillieu," Ael said, astonished at how her voice echoed in this flying cavern. "Rihannsu, report at speed to your assigned posts. Helmets all, and make sure any distinguishing insignia of Bloodwing about you are removed. If in doubt about any necessary action, consult with your 'prisoners.'" She allowed herself a slight laugh on the word; the Captain looked grim, but his eyes danced all the same. "Remember, you are Cuirass crew; do nothing to attract attention to yourselves when we are monitored! Honor to you—and mnhei'sahe. Out."
The Captain was looking at her quizzically. "I wished them luck," Ael said.
He shook his head. "I thought that word meant 'love.'"
Ael quirked half a grin at him. "What use is a word that means only one thing? Besides, in this context, they are nearly the same. . . ."
He looked bemused, but only for the instant; then he was all officer again, hard and ready. "You may have something there. In the meantime, I think you'll be needed on the Bridge. Mr. Spock," he said to the intercom, "our presence has been requested at a little theatrical. Would you care to join me in the brig?"
"My pleasure, Captain. Bridge out."
The humor in the Vulcan's voice was so little concealed and so dry that Ael had to laugh again; but the laugh lasted for only a breath, fading at the Captain's look. "Madam—" he said.
"I will care for your Bridge," said Ael. And she turned and was off, hurrying, and feeling his eyes in her back like the points of spears.
Very strange, it felt, to sit there in that soft chair at the heart of airy openness, staring at the big screen and Waiting. Ael's heart pounded and her hands were sweating, as they always did before an engagement. She cursed them, as she always did, and rubbed them on her breeches. Around her, her own people failed to notice this business, as usual, and made themselves useful at strange consoles and odd instruments. The only thing missing was Tafv, but he was on Bloodwing, lying low for the moment; after all, Cuirass was not a place where he belonged. Aidoann was on Bloodwing, pretending to be commanding it in Ael's absence; the Commander, Aidoann would be telling Javelin, was aboard Enterprise making it secure and supervising the tapping and recording of its computer library. Hvaid and N'alae sat at the helm console; Khoal manned the science station, and Lhian the communications board. How cool they all looked, how very competent … a shadow of the look they had been wearing down in the Recreation deck, while the Enterprise people had been watching them. And how I sit here and twitch like a broody hlai, Ael thought. Fire burn it, we can build a device that can cloak a whole starship, but we can't find a way to keep people's hands from sweating—