Chapter 25

The Identity of Countess Kyrth

Plormot shared a table with Mr. Douqh and the doctor.

The passengers assembled and sat scattered in their respective seats. Though no one had eaten in a long time, no one seemed to be hungry. Everyone was very subdued and even the gregarious Mrs. Valy'r was unnaturally quiet. Her usually shrill voice kept up a running, whispered commentary as she ate:

"I don't think I could eat a single bite," she would say before sampling a bit of everything. "Truly, I don't feel as though I can eat very much," she would say before digging into second helpings.

Dr. Suric kept quiet when he noticed Plormot catch one of the attendants by the sleeve and whisper into his ear. The Count and Countess were always served last, and there was a delay bringing out their bill. Consequently, the result was that the Count and Countess were the last left in the restaurant quarters.

When they finally received and paid their bill, they rose to leave. As they drew nearer to their table, Plormot sprang up and gabbled in English:

"Forgive me, Countess, but I believe I have recognized you."

"Pardon, sir?" The Count made a sudden movement, but Plormot ignored him. He kept his eyes fixed on the Countess's face.

"Having seen only your diplomatic passport, I did not immediately see it, and you are older now than you once were. But I am a fool. Of course it is you. I recognize you from a tabloid of admittedly ill-repute. You are Talla Shran, the daughter of Commander Shran and of the Archer family."

There was dead silence for a minute or two. Both the Count and Countess had gone stalk still, their antennae at full attention, and the Countess's pale blue face had blanched into an icier hue. Plormot began again in English, this time in a gentler tone:

"It is no use denying it. It is true, isn't it?"

The Count burst out in furious Axanarian:

"I demand, sir, by what right do you-"

His young wife interrupted him, putting her small hand on his shoulder.

"No, Dolru. Let me speak. It is useless to deny what he says. It will come out when we reach Pordd, anyway. We had better sit down and talk it out."

Her voice had changed. It was still just as rich in tone, but it had suddenly lost it's breathy, indecisive quality. It was, for the first time, a definitely unaccented, Americanized English voice. The Count seemed to deflate when he looked at her, and he obeyed her gesture. Once they settled into seats opposite Plormot, she continued:

"You are correct, sir. I am Talla Shran, the foster daughter to Captain Archer and Hernandez."

"You did not acquaint me with that fact this morning, Countess."

"No."

"In fact, all that you and your husband have told me is a string of lies." The Count built up to challenge Plormot, only to be waylaid by Talla again.

"Don't be angry, Dolru. Mr. Plormot has worded it brutally, but what he says is true."

"I am glad you admit it so freely. Will you tell me your reasons for your deception?"

"It was my idea, my doing entirely." The Count added.

"Surely, Mr. Plormot," Talla said. "Surely, you can guess my reason, our reason? This man who was killed is the man who murdered my baby sister. Who killed my mother, who broke my uncle's heart. The three people I had left and loved the most. They made up my home, my world!" Her voice had started off quietly, and grew to ring out at the end. Plormot was not surprised she had spent her formative years watching the quadrant's best actors performing feats of emotive arts.

"Of all the people on this ship, of all the people in the galaxy, I think only I would have had the best motive for killing him."

"And you did not kill him, Countess?"

"I swear to you, sir – and my husband knows this, and will also swear – that as much as I may have wanted to kill him, I never lifted a hand against that man."

"I, too, gentlemen." The Count added. "I give you my word of honor that last night, Talla never left her bed. She took a sedative exactly as I said. She is entirely innocent."

Plormot looked back and forth between them, then he shook his head.

"Your word of honor. And yet you took it upon yourself to deliberately hide your wife's identity?"

"You never asked," he responded simply. The Count was perhaps unduly young to be a diplomat, but he now openly displayed his skill in political maneuvering.

"And yet you knew it would be pertinent to the case." Plormot was not amused.

"Nevertheless, you never asked." Count Kyrth gave a small, self-deprecating smile. "I knew she was innocent, and I have no intention of having her put through some sham investigation just to prove what I already know. She never left our rooms last night.

"Consider my position. Do you think I could stand the thought of my wife dragged through a police case run by the Nivaluzian region police? She is innocent, but with her connection to the Archer family, she would have been immediately suspected. She would have been questioned every which way, arrested, perhaps. Yes, I lied by omission to you. But I will remain consistent on this fact: My wife never left our rooms last night."

Plormot considered the now earnest man across from him. He spoke with such forthright passion.

"I do not say that I disbelieve you, sir," Plormot said slowly. "Your family is, I know, a proud and ancient one. It would be a bitter thing for you to have your wife dragged into an unpleasant police case. I can sympathize with you there. But why carry on this charade once the case ran deeper?"

"Again, there was no charade," the Count answered. "A lie by omission, made easier because you didn't ask earlier."

"You have a very cool head about all of this," Plormot commented. "You have the makings of a fine criminal, Count. A great natural ingenuity and an apparent remorseless determination to mislead justice."

"Not mislead justice." The Count replied. "Justice had been done. I simply didn't want my wife to fall as collateral damage." Talla leaned in to end their back and forth.

"Mr. Plormot, he's explained to you how it was." Her American English pronunciation grew more pronounced. "I was scared – just scared – you understand. It was so awful, that time. And to have it all raked up again like that. And the possibility of being suspected and maybe thrown into prison. I was terrified, sir. Can't you understand at all?" Her deep, rich voice tugged at the soul. Plormot regarded her gravely.

"If I am to believe you, Countess – and I do not say that I won't believe you – then you must help me."

"Help you?"

"Yes. The reason for the murder lies in the past. In that tragedy which broke up your home and saddened your young life. Take me back into the past, so that I may find the link – the missing piece that fits the whole thing together."

"What can I tell you? They are all dead." She blinked her giant, orb-like eyes towards the phal. "All dead. Jonathan, Erika – and Daisy.

"She was so sweet, and so happy. She had this wonderful, curling hair. I wasn't used to human development at first, so I was confused when her hair turned from that pale, pale yellow into a darker blond. Then I found out her hair was likely to turn even darker, like her parents. The whole thing fascinated me, and beneath all her color-changing hair, she was always giggling and laughing. We were all just crazy about her."

"There were several other victims, as well."

"You mean Uncle Trip and Aunt T'Pol?" A fresh wave of grief passed over her face. "They died trying to arrest that man. Jon turned into a shadow of himself after that. That man escaping was just the final straw."

"There was another victim. An indirect victim, you might say."

"You mean poor Zia? Yes, the police questioned her. They were convinced that she had something to do with it. Maybe she did, but if so, it would have only been an accident. She was about my age now, at the time, maybe younger. Eighteen? Nineteen? She was young and we were in upstate New York, Schenectady, so what worries did any of us have? Maybe she let slip something about Daisy's general schedule. Anyway, Zia was questioned nonstop by the police." She gave an involuntary shiver.

"She threw herself out of an airlock. As I understand it, they had decided to question her further at a station orbiting Earth. She was already horribly stressed and ashamed over it all. I suppose she couldn't see that it would ever end for her, so she decided to end it."

"What nationality was she, Countess?"

"She was Xindi. It made it all that much worse for her."

"What was her last name?"

"I – I don't know that I can remember it. I only ever called her Zia. She was such a fun, girl. In retrospect, she was very young to be taking employment so far from Xindi space. She seemed like such a cool, adventuresome grown up to me at the time."

"She was your and Daisy's au pair – a nanny, yes?"

"Yes, especially since Erika was pregnant again, Zia was needed even more."

"And Captain Archer's former colleague, Dr. Phlox, was her pediatrician?"

"I'm not sure whether it was official or not, but he certainly came by often enough. I think one of his wives may have been the pediatrician, actually, but I can't be sure."

"What was his wife's name? The pediatrician?"

"Feezal. She was also devoted to Daisy, and to Jon and Erika."

"Now, Madame, I want you to think carefully before you answer this question. Have you, since you were on this ship, seen anyone that you recognize?" She stared at him.

"I? No, I don't think so."

"What about Princess Nehn?"

"Oh, her! Well I know her, of course. I thought you meant anyone – anyone from – from that time."

The Count unobtrusively let his hand fall onto Talla's shoulder and he gently squeezed it.

"So I did. But think now, carefully. A few years have passed. So everyone from that time has also aged. Do you recognize anyone else? They might have altered their appearance, or aged more so than you might expect."

Talla was silent for a minute or two.

"No, there is no one."

"You were perhaps fifteen or sixteen towards the end, before the whole affair. Did you have no one to check into your studies? Anyone to help you advance your English and keep up your Andorian?"

"Why, yes. Uncle Jon's colleague."

"He hired her from Starfleet? How often did she check on your studies?"

"I don't know exactly what arrangement they had. I think they were friends and she wanted to help out. She would visit quite often. At first it was just whenever she could make it, but I suppose I wasn't progressing as much as she liked, so she started to come by all the time."

"She dropped by starting when?"

"I would have been around eight or nine when I first met her."

"What was her name?"

"Well," she hesitated. "It's been so long and I've tried to block out everything from that time. I-" She shut her eyes for a minute, deep in thought. Finally, she opened them, having come to an answer. "Hoshi Sato. She worked with Jon at Starfleet. And during the war."

"Describe her."

"She was rather tall. Quite loud, and really nice."

"Anything else?"

"What else can I say? She was my tutor. She taught me languages and helped me and Daisy with our subjects."

"You say she was tall. How tall were you then?" Talla smiled when she realized Plormot's point.

"Even for a human, you mean? Yes, she was big. She sort of took after the large-chested, motherly type."

"Young or old?"

"She seemed pretty old to me."

"Yes, but how old was she? How old was she in comparison to the Xindi au pair, Zia?"

"She would have been a bit older than Zia, I suppose. At least three or four years older? It's difficult to tell with her."

"And were there any other members of the household?"

"No, not really. But Jon and Erika were busy people, so it wasn't uncommon to have periods of higher traffic. Mostly, though, they tried to give me and Daisy a quieter life. I can't think of many closer than that."

"And you are certain, Countess, that you have recognized no one else on this ship?"

Her giant, orb-like eyes threatened to entrance any who stared too long.

"No one, sir."