Chapter 10 – 20.9914518
The following morning brought with it a fresh flurry of messages from Tamsin. There were several places where one could get sushi on Kreetassa, or at least where it could be the subject of a special order of some sort. It was as if she had done a generalized search and then simply dumped the unsorted results on Marty's desk.
Fighting the urge to lose all of his remaining patience with her, he finally just closed his eyes and pointed. This was much like how he had chosen her in the first place. But at least a decision had been made, although it was one less item of conversation. The evening promised to be a trying one, but there was no sense in backing out.
"I deserve it," he grumbled to himself as he got into the shower that morning, "I brought this upon myself."
At least she was on a separate ship. He would not have to face her after that night.
=/\=
Mack had her team up early, and they were able to shave another four minutes off their best time for a full game of Kreesta. The starters were becoming more obvious. There was no doubt in her mind that M'Belle, Xo, Tag and Cilla would be four of the six.
=/\=
Geordi checked the radiation band detector on himself again, after making some small adjustments, and got the exact same reading as before. "Well, maybe I'm a cousin, although God knows we don't look anything at all alike. Maybe we're really distant."
=/\=
When the Calafan, Yi'imspi, checked messages later that morning, there were a dozen from a Tellarite agent, among her other notes. She walked over to Grosk's quarters and hit the chime.
"Enter."
"Are you busy?" she inquired.
"Only recovering from Kreesta, so not too much. Are you in need of anything?"
"I don't know if you recall," she explained, "but I was asked to model. I admit that I am curious, but I don't want to go to any agency alone."
"I see. So you are requesting my company?" the tall Imvari asked.
"If it's not too much trouble, then yes."
"I am willing. When would this be?"
"Now."
The Tellarite modeling agency was a study in contrasts. A person – it was possibly a secretary? That person greeted them at the door. "You must be Yi'imspi." The voice was high in pitch, even though that person sported an impressive set of whiskers and had a mostly bald head. They were female? A juvenile? It was not entirely possible to say.
Grosk and Yi'imspi entered. Another Tellarite blew in, with a wheeled rack loaded with garments of various sizes, shapes and colors. "Ugly! Ugly!" complained the greeter, seemingly disapprovingly.
The person with the rack bowed and smiled. "My latest creations! Might almost be suitable for a Calafan. Or for a garbage heap!" That person – the designer – and the greeter then burst into uproarious laughter.
"Most interesting, most interesting," muttered the Tellarite who had greeted them. That person whipped out a PADD and hit a few keys on it. A magenta-colored beam then shot out of it. "Sizes, sizes," continued that person, who hit more keys. This aimed the beam directly at Yi'imspi. The pressing of a few more keys caused the beam to wrap around the Calafan. "Ah, fourteen and ninety-three and then by lights of a thousand times the sun that warms Tellar!"
The person with the rack must have been listening, for they began to rummage through the rack. A garment was found, and held up to Yi'imspi's body. "Ugly!" shouted the designer with the rack.
"Yes, yes, ugly!" agreed the other. There was more laughter.
The garment itself was either a long tunic or a short dress. Grosk and Yi'imspi exchanged a look. "Do you want me to put this on?" she asked, after a while.
"Of course!" roared the one who had greeted them, leering. "Unless you wanna do some nude modeling!" This was apparently an even more hilarious joke than the sight of the garment was.
"Nude! You'll put me out of business!" complained the one with the rack. "I couldn't possibly design anything uglier than a body!"
"Where should I change?"
"Oh, yes, yes," the greeter led her to a small room, off to the side. With nothing else to do, Grosk stood guard at its door.
The guy with the rack stared at him for a few minutes. "I wasn't told I would have to be outfitting an Imvari," that one complained.
"No, no!" clarified the greeter. "This one is the boyfriend!"
Grosk was very tall, like most Imvari, with bright blue skin and what were essentially orange and tan horns sticking out, all over and around his face. He blanched a little, at the designation of boyfriend. He wasn't even, technically, male.
"No, no!" disagreed the guy with the rack. He pointed to his own knees. "Incompatible!" The pair of Tellarites roared again, as Grosk's face visibly colored, for his knees were the site of his two-part genitalia.
Yi'imspi emerged from the side room, wearing nothing but the garment, which was very high indeed.
She was a Calafan in her thirties, so she was beginning to sprout silvery blonde hair on her scalp. Her arms and her legs, which had all started off as solid silver when she was born, were beginning to break down into a pattern. Currently, the silver color was a bit mottled and almost appeared wavy. Otherwise, she was indistinguishable from a human. "Well?" she asked.
The three other people in the room just stared at her. "Aha, uh," stammered the one with the rack, grabbing a matching pair of pants from the rack. "I, uh, better without the pants."
The other one finally snapped out of it. "Less, less ugly. Much, much less ugly." The PADD was attended to again. "Lights! Photographic illumination standard number seventeen! Stand back!" That last comment was directed at Grosk, who complied.
"How should I stand?" Yi'imspi asked.
The one with the PADD set to camera mode – who had also been the greeter – stared for a moment. The designer jogged an elbow. "Oh! Yes," the greeter said, "this, here, this is fine." Demonstrating, the pose was just about identical to how Yi'imspi was already standing. The elbow was jogged again. "Yes!" The PADD began clicking as the pictures were taken.
A slight gesture or a head tilt, this way or that, were the sole indicators that any changes of position were desired. The Tellarite love of insults seemed to have been all but forgotten, as image after image was taken. "Yes, yes, over more, this way, this way!" Arms flailed and Yi'imspi imitated the odd gesture, and yet more images were taken.
Standing behind, the guy with the rack now jostled Grosk's elbow. "Not so ugly, eh? I should design more like that, eh?"
Grosk had to admit that that was a very good idea, as silver legs with just a hint of a mottled pattern flashed in the studio's lighting and, much like the rest of Yi'imspi, served to bedazzle him.
=/\=
Mack got in a 5K jog around the perimeter running track, careful not to disturb Crita or her paints. The mural of the Grand Canyon was taking shape nicely, as bluish-violet hues gave way to warmer reddish tones in one direction, and cooler greyish-blues and forest greens in the other.
In the corner of her vision, another bit was also taking shape. It was a series of images, painted within old-fashioned trompe l'oeil framing that gave the illusion of the edges of a film strip, complete with rounded black edges and sprocket holes. Within each frame, there were the hints of color. It was difficult to determine just what that subject would be. However, as she had jogged past, Mack figured out the purpose behind it all. The frames would hold animation cels, and they would flicker as she jogged past.
Once she'd finished her second tour around the perimeter, she went over to Crita. "Wanna take a break?"
"Uh, sure, just a moment." A brush was set into a jar of thinner, and the area was tidied up as Mack assisted a bit.
"I understand your parents are coming," Mack stated as the two women strolled to the Cookie's mess.
"Yes. They, they have images for me to review."
"Artwork?"
"Would that it was," the Daranaean lowered her eyes. "It is images of men. I have been unmarried for too long as it is."
"Oh. How do you think that'll all go?"
"I do not know," Crita said, "but if I was to wed, I would have to leave."
They were both quiet for several minutes. "Well, I for one," Mack said, "would not want you to leave. But it's not my decision to make, now, is it?"
"Of course not. In the history of my people, there was a very long time when that would not have been my decision, either."
"Really?"
"I am a third caste female. Whoever I wed will already have two wives. One, the Prime Wife, she will rule the roost. The secondary will educate our children. The third caste wife picks up and cleans, mostly."
"What about you, Crita?"
"My traditional role would be to keep the home. I would clean and carry; it would be that sort of thing."
"Nothing intellectual?"
"Dana, it was not until first contact with the Federation that my people began to determine that allowing women like me to learn to read and write was a good idea."
"I see. At least, I think I do. Would every Daranaean man require you to be this way?"
Crita cocked her head at an angle, a sign of some confusion on her part. This also made her look particularly canid. It was a serious moment, but Mack did find the pose to be a bit amusing. "I mean, uh," Dana said, "that if there was a Daranaean man who liked your artwork, at least you could paint, right?"
"I, I am unsure. I do hope that would be so."
=/\=
On the Enterprise-E, Geordi, Marty and B-4 entered a private conference room near Engineering. Geordi had a pack and opened it, taking out a device which was really just a wand. He then began to make adjustments on his own PADD, clicking here or there, or sliding a finger along a display.
"Is that it?" asked Marty, picking up the wand.
"Yes, just, uh, put it down for a second, please. I need to finish calibrating."
"Oh, sorry." Marty put the wand down.
"Okay, um, and, let's see." Geordi picked up the wand. "Hold out your hand." Marty complied, and Geordi ran the wand over it. There was a faint confirming beep that the reading was concluded. "Ah, there it is," he stated, "20.9914518."
"Well, I'll be damned," Marty stared at his own arm for a second, as if that were the source of the discrepancy.
"By my calculations," B-4 said, "you have at least two cousin marriages in your past, Mister Madden."
"Excuse me?" Marty inquired.
"Your radiation band is lower than predicted. That indicates more than one genetic contribution from the Mirror Universe. After the Douglas Hayes generation, the figures are more difficult to ascertain. But the evidence is in the numbers."
"I scored on it, too," Geordi admitted, "but my number is higher than I would have expected. I'm thinking that means an extra non-Mirror generation in there."
"That is a reasonable guess," concurred the android.
"So we're related?" Marty asked.
"It would seem to be the case," Geordi said, "but probably not too closely. It might even be as far back as Hayes's children themselves. Wait, is that possible?"
"It is," Marty confirmed. "I had the book read to me. The author read it, actually. So I learned a lot about my – uh, our – family, at least as it was for the twenty-second century and down to as recently as 2212."
"What happened in 2212?" Geordi asked.
"The author got very sick, and she died," he stated succinctly. "But hang on; I'll get the notes from my PADD." Madden clicked around a bit. "Okay. Hayes was in the Mirror until late 2157. He comes over and he fathers five kids from two different women. His wife, Lili, she has a son, Joss Beckett, and the only daughter, Marie Patrice. But only Joss has any kids. Melissa, his, uh, well, I'm not so sure what to call Melissa, but she has three sons with him – Tommy, Neil and Kevin. Melissa is Madden, but her two older sons are Digiorno-Madden."
"Who is named Digiorno?" inquired B-4.
"The writer of the book was, actually. She and Melissa were together, so she – uh, the writer, that is – she adopted the two older ones. The youngest was sickly and didn't live long. His last name was Madden-Beckett. The only one of these three to have kids was Neil. There's a sixth child, Declan Reed, and he does have kids, but he's Lili's with a Starfleet pioneer named Malcolm Reed."
"Go on," Geordi encouraged.
"Anyway, far as I can tell, and far as the flag officers could tell, I'm one of Neil's own. Neil has two kids, Jenny Lee and, heh, Martin Kevin. Then it's five generations until I show up. My middle name is Douglas – I never realized it was a family name, but it seems there are a lot of repeating names. My father was Thomas, his father was another Doug, and before him was Pete."
"Where does Pete fit in?" asked the engineer.
"Oh, you mean in terms of names? That's Lili's father's name, apparently. I dunno if I'm related to her – it doesn't seem like I am, but with cousin marriages who knows? Before Pete was Dino, and Dino was the author, uh, Leonora, that was her own father's name. Dino was Martin Kevin's kid. Y'know this also means, since Pete is a common ancestor for my cousin and me, that's she's in this, this tribe, as well."
"Testing of the entire ship's complement would be a good idea," B-4 stated. "That is, the human crew members, and all part-humans."
"Right," Geordi agreed, "but after a while it gets intrusive. Plus how many people would be related and also serving on the same ship? The odds aren't so great."
"Would we test every single human?" Marty joked, "That's a few billion folks. You'd better build a few more of those things," he indicated the wand.
"Perhaps a less intrusive means of testing could be devised. Or, at least, a less obvious form." B-4 picked up the wand. "It appears to work via the application of a small dose of chi particle radiation which is then reflected back to the wand and then the information is passed to the PADD."
"Yes, that's right," Geordi confirmed.
"Therefore, if my own circuitry could be so modified, I could perform the same type of testing," B-4 offered.
"That's not a bad idea." The engineer worked on B-4 for a while, removing a plate under an index fingernail in order to directly access the circuitry. "Try it now," he suggested.
The android shook hands with him. "20.9999946. Is that the reading you got?"
"It is. So it looks like we can do this, and accomplish it surreptitiously. Try the commander, all right?" Geordi suggested.
The android shook hands with Commander Madden and said, "20.9914518. There is a match."
"All right," Marty said, "I'll get my cousin to come on board, and you can test her. In the meantime, might as well start testing our shipmates. But keep it on the QT, okay?"
=/\=
In the Cookie's mess, Crita and Mack sat together. "They have sent me three images, with descriptions, of men who are interested. Shall I read them?"
"Only if you want to," Mack said.
"It is all right. The first one – they are pushing for him, as he is the son of a Prime Wife – his name is Kytharis." She showed a picture; he was brown-furred. "He is; they say he is a merchant and so the household is wealthy."
"Okay. Who's Bachelor number two?"
"Oh, no, none of them are bachelors. They all have, already, two wives."
"Sorry, I forgot."
"The second is; his name is Varus. He is a business associate of my father's. I have known him a long time. But he always seemed to be so very old. I believe he is senior to my father." This picture was of a greyish-furred Daranaean.
"Let's look at number three, okay?"
"To be sure. He is a cousin to me." The image was of a red and white furred male; the colors were in large splotches.
"I like the patchwork coloring," Mack said, "how close a cousin is he? You know there's a law about those kinds of marriages."
"Yes," Crita confirmed, "and it has made some things more difficult in Daranaean society. For many generations, the leading families all intermarried. Now, because we cannot have great-grandparents in common, it means that the leading families have had to look outside their inner circle for mates for their daughters." She peered at her PADD a bit. "It says here that Senjarus is now a military man."
"Which one is Senjarus?"
"He is, you commented on his red and white patched face."
"Oh, yeah." Mack looked at the image again. "He's got a pink nose, too. He's kinda cute."
"Do you think so?"
"It's a lot more important if you think so, Crita."
"I will have to smell him first. That will really tell the tale." She sighed. "At least he is a fairly remote kinsman, so there are no worries regarding our familial relationship. His great-grandfather was younger half-brother to my great-grandmother. So we are all right."
"Do you know him?"
"Not well. It is so confusing."
"Are these the only guys for you to choose from?"
"For now," the Daranaean said. "But my parents will be very cross with me if I delay too much."
"Don't they want you to be happy?" Mack's PADD dinged, signifying the presence of a new message, but she ignored that for the nonce, in favor of listening to Crita.
"They want me to be situated well. Happiness, it comes later, they say. I must be certain that I get along with the two other wives. Or else my life will be miserable."
Mack patted her arm. "I don't know what to advise you."
"It is all right. But, you should check your PADD. It is flashing."
"Okay." There was one note from Hobie, but the more recent note was from Marty.
Mystic,
Come to the Enterprise, on the fifteenth like we said. Can't wait.
- Straight Arrow
Marty read her quick reply and smiled to himself.
Straight Arrow,
I am giving advice to the Daranaean lovelorn. Can't wait to see you either.
Sheep gotta fly.
His PADD chimed, indicating that he needed to leave in order to be on time for his evening with Tamsin. Sighing to himself, he departed.