Stardate 2260.230
Her limbs scrambled to make sense of her immediate surroundings, which had suddenly been inverted thanks to her feet getting hung up on the stairs. She was falling, twisting, groping blindly, then agony tore through her arm. Her head bounced off the stone floor, sending stars ricocheting through her field of view.
For several seconds, she was too stunned to think about anything, about the baby or Voris or Vaksur. All she could do was blink and try to figure out what had just happened. She had a feeling someone was talking and when she turned her head to see where the voice was coming from, reality flooded back.
She gasped and craned her neck to look at her stomach. Had she fallen on it? She tried to sit up but couldn't maneuver over the pain in her right arm.
Voices were whispering around her. "Is she ok?" There was more murmuring, followed by someone saying, "Please leave."
"Voris?"
Dagny snuck a look over her shoulder and saw Vaksur looking at her with a feigned look of concern. The pain drifted into rage and all that was left was the pounding of her heart. "Get out!"
"Dagny, please-" Voris began, reaching down to help her up.
"Shut up!" she spat at him. "Get away from me!"
She tried to stand again but it was all too much to manage. Her protruding belly, her injured arm, her rage and humiliation all conspired to keep her flailing around on the ground. Voris clapped a hand on her shoulder but she tugged it away from him. She tried hard to catch her breath but it suddenly seemed like the room was closing in on her.
"Please, Dagny, remain still," Voris said.
Pride and shame threatened to choke her. She took several ragged breaths and tried to cradle her stomach, but her right arm didn't seem to be cooperating.
"I want her to leave," Dagny hissed.
"She is leaving," Voris replied, nodding over his shoulder.
Dagny started to cry. "Is the baby ok?"
"I do not know."
She sobbed harder. What had she done? "No… no… please no…"
It took a few minutes for Voris to coax Dagny out of her hysterics and get her onto one of the biobeds. She listened to the beeping of the tricorder and tried to get her mind in order. Why couldn't she think straight?
"You have a broken arm."
She closed her eyes and canted her chin away from him. Had she felt the baby move since the fall? She hadn't thought about it. "Is the baby ok?"
"I can still detect a heartbeat. You do not appear to be bleeding, though I would ask you allow me to perform an internal exam."
She recoiled at the idea of his hands on her in such a way, even if he was a doctor and it was medically necessary. It struck her that maybe that was what upset her the most, the idea that he could touch her in such a sensitive place in such a neutral and unaffected way. But it wasn't like she wanted him to touch her in any other way, was it?
"Dagny?"
"What?"
"Will you consent to an internal exam?"
"No."
"I believe it would be wise-"
"Don't touch me," she whispered.
"Will you at least consent-"
"No!"
"To me correcting the fracture in your right arm?" he finished.
She scowled and took a breath. She knew she was acting like a child, but she felt like a child. Maybe she still was. "Do as you like: fix my arm, put your hands in me. I don't care."
She looked at the far wall and studied the rippled patterns in the rock harder than she probably should have. Voris shifted his weight. "I will need to set the limb."
"Whatever."
"I would recommend an analgesic."
Dagny swallowed. Thinking about her arm only seemed to make it throb harder. She gave the subtlest nod of her head and moments later, there was a sting in her neck and a cool sensation trickled down her chest and into her arms, muting her pain considerably.
He jerked her forearm hard and though it still hurt, it almost didn't register. Then she sensed a warm, vibrating sensation moving through her elbow. She hated the feeling of bone knitters in action, but it was followed by a feeling that made her immediately joyful. Whether it was the action of the bone knitter or Voris' proximity, the baby was once again wriggling around inside her. She bit her lip to keep from smiling.
"Is something the matter?"
"The baby is moving."
"That is an encouraging sign, however, you behavior seems rather altered. I believe you may also be suffering from a concussion-"
"Why did you kiss her?" She had no idea what had made her say it, but there it was.
Voris stiffened and she shut her eyes tightly against it. "That is irrelevant to-"
"It's not irrelevant," she interrupted.
"Why do you believe my interactions with Vaksur concern you?"
She nearly choked. "How does it not concern me?"
"You and I are not mates."
She dared herself to look at him. She tried to find words, any words, to describe how angry and betrayed she felt, and then like a lightning strike, they started to pour from her mouth. "Oh, right, you just got me pregnant! You just saved my life and got me pregnant and dragged me halfway across the galaxy and now I'm here and I depend on you and you act like it means nothing!"
Voris pulled back. "That it incorrect."
"Which part?"
"That it means nothing."
It should have been an intriguing thought, but she was too focused on his betrayal to let it sink in. She was shaking and she hated it.
"Why are you so troubled by the thought I would seek out another mate?"
Fresh tears pooled in the corners of her eyes. "I shouldn't have to explain it to you!"
"Why are you yelling?"
"Because I'm upset!"
"I am trying to understand why, Dagny."
The sound of her name rolling off his tongue almost broke her. If she didn't know better, she'd say he was exasperated, and the idea that she was making him feel that way was awful. But why did she feel badly? Shouldn't he be the one?
"I merely wish to understand why you would be so opposed to my seeking a mate when you are not and have no interest in being my mate."
"Who said I had no interest?" The admission took her by surprise. As the last syllable fell, she instantly wished she could take it back.
He was uncomfortable, and she knew it. He even seemed to be at a loss for words, which was somehow upsetting. "As I said, you may also have a concussion…"
Dagny's breath caught in her throat. If he was happy to pretend like she'd never implied she was interested in him, that was fine by her. Why would she have said such a thing?
The next thirty minutes felt like an out of body experience as Voris checked the range of motion in her recently repaired arm and performed a concussion screening. He administered a dose of taurelazine, standard treatment to prevent eventual protein aggregation in her brain following a blow to the head, and when he was done, they sat quietly, neither speaking nor looking at each other.
"I acknowledge your prior objections, but I feel it is my duty to encourage you to at least allow me to examine-"
"I know," she interrupted, closing her eyes. "You want to do an internal exam. Do whatever you have to do to make sure the baby is ok."
"Will you remove your trousers and undergarments?"
Her heart started to race. He'd done an internal exam before, the night she'd woken up bleeding from a subchorionic hemorrhage, but she had been too scared for the baby to really think about it and she had already been wearing clothes that had made an internal exam quick and easy.
He helped her down from the biobed. The moment his right hand touched her left and his left hand gently touched her waist, the baby started going wild. She couldn't help but smile, but given the bigger picture, he probably thought she was going crazy. Maybe she was. He'd said her behavior was "altered." Maybe the knock on her head really was more serious than she realized and she was saying all kinds of things she didn't mean. Maybe if she was really lucky, he'd chalk her earlier confession about being interested in him up to mental confusion due to a concussion.
He went to cleanse his hands in the sink, mercifully turning his back to allow her to get undressed without a captive audience, and she slid herself back onto the biobed, keeping her knees locked together. When he returned, neither of them were able to make eye contact.
"Can you slide to the edge of the biobed?" he asked, his voice even more monotone than usual.
All in all, it was relatively quick, but as far as Dagny was concerned, decades passed in the twenty seconds it took him to declare that everything seemed fine with the baby. She hated the vulnerability that came from lying flat on her back, legs wide open, while Voris of all people probed her most private areas. Her heart was pounding so fast her temperature monitor started to go off, almost as if it wanted to declare to the entire colony just how nervous and uncomfortable she really was.
"You may get dressed," he mumbled, tripping backwards to wash his hands in the sink.
It suddenly occurred to her that it had to be just as awkward for him as it was for her, and the blaring chant of her temperature monitor was only making things more tense. She nearly fell again, trying to hastily stuff her left foot into her pant leg, and she was just doing up the button of her trousers when Voris turned to face her.
Her mouth got away from her brain once again, and she said, "What I said earlier, I… I…"
Voris' face scrunched and he lightly sniffed the air. "Is something burning?"
Dagny blinked. "Oh no."
She raced toward the stairs, nearly tripping up them again. She had a sense Voris was calling out to her, pleading with her to slow down. She had been cooking dinner while Voris closed up the clinic, and she had left a pot of beans and rice on the stove.
Voris was on her heels. When she made it to the top of the stairs, she was horrified to discover thick smoke billowing throughout the tiny apartment and their dinner on fire. Voris raced back downstairs and returned with a fire suppression cylinder. "Wait downstairs."
"I'm sorry," Dagny choked. "I didn't mean to ruin dinner."
"Go downstairs," Voris repeated, giving her a stern, sidelong glance.
She suddenly felt like a little girl being admonished by her father and it made her angry beyond measure. Her temperature monitor continued to wail, but Voris was already stepping forward to tend to the small kitchen fire.
"Go, Dagny!"
He was angry. She had pushed him to the point of anger, and it frightened her such that she erupted into tears. She coughed from the smoke and sensing it would be pointless to keep trying to apologize for dinner or be mad that he was treating her like a child, she wandered downstairs and really let her emotions loose.
It was wild and chaotic. She cried until she started to hyperventilate and feel dizzy. She was so embarrassed and hurt and felt guilty about ruining the food. All that food and now it was probably little better than charcoal. She slumped down onto the ground and cried still harder. She was well into hysterical territory when she realized Voris was squatting before her, holding a hypospray.
"Dagny, please. Please attempt to calm yourself, otherwise I will be compelled to sedate you. You are overheating and it's posing a risk to both you and the child."
"I'm- I'm sor- I hate- why-"
"Dagny..."
She started to scream, then there was a pinch in her neck and she was swallowed up by darkness. When she awoke, she was freezing. She was lying in her bed, stripped down to her undergarments and covered in damp towels. Her head seemed to weigh a hundred kilograms, her right arm ached down to the bone, and her mouth was dry as a summer desert.
There was a soft beeping noise and moments later, the sheet that served as a privacy divider between their beds was peeled back, revealing Voris. Dagny groped for a sheet to cover herself and tried to sit up, but her head was in agony. What had happened? How had she come to be like this?
Voris sat down on the edge of her bed and turned on the tricorder, then it all came flooding back. The kiss, the fall, the broken arm, the very personal exam, the ruined dinner, the fire… Her chest started to tighten and she took several gasping breaths.
"Try to remain calm." His voice was soft and pleasant, but all it made her feel was shame. She had acted like a complete and utter lunatic, ruled by emotional mania. How could she ever look him in the face again? The longer she thought about it, the more panicked she started to become.
"Dagny, please look at me." Voris waved his hand in front of her face, but her cheeks started to burn and she closed her eyes and looked away.
"Dagny-"
"Am I going crazy?" she croaked.
"No, or at least, I do not believe so."
"Then what's wrong with me?" she squeaked, fighting hard against the tears that were soon to come flowing down her face. "This can't be normal, this… this way I'm feeling."
"I believe you are suffering from a phenomenon known as kohnar-shan."
"What does that mean?"
"It is extremely common among expectant Vulcan mothers. The child's brain has reached a stage in development where it is capable of telepathic transference. Little is known about the emotions a fetus may feel in the womb, but what is clear is that the child is capable of enhancing emotional stress within the mother."
"Huh?"
"Whatever you feel, the child also feels, and because the child is in constant contact with you and is now capable of primitive telepathy, it's amplifying your emotions. It is causing you to feel things much more intensely."
"Well, how do I stop it? I don't like being like this."
"Many Vulcan mothers find meditation alleviates many of their symptoms-"
"I don't know how to meditate!" She glared at him.
"Yes, you informed me of this the morning after… it is not important how I became aware of this fact. I am aware of your inexperience with centering your thoughts to overcome emotions. There are certain mood stabilizing drugs that have shown some efficacy in treating early symptoms of kohnar-shan, but as your pregnancy progresses, they will likely become less effective."
"So I'm just supposed to keep having meltdowns and being awful?"
"To achieve emotional stability, there is… another… a different means of…"
"Ugh, just say it," she barked, wondering why he was so bashful all of a sudden.
"If you cannot meditate for yourself, it is possible I could assist you through mind melding with you."
"Ok, what is that?"
"We have already initiated several mind melds before," he explained, looking away from her. "A mind meld can take many different forms and have many different functions. They can facilitate healing or memory transfer or…"
"Or what?"
"Or the bonding between mates."
Dagny gulped and looked away. "So, on the Sekla, when you grabbed my face, and then… all those other times in the hotel…"
"Yes," Voris replied.
"Oh."
She felt numb. "Are you- you're saying- we have to- you know- have sex?"
"No," Voris answered, probably much more quickly than he'd intended. "It would require no physical contact beyond my fingertips on your face. As I said, there are many different forms of mind melding and the kind I propose would be more therapeutic in nature, not…"
Dagny covered her eyes with her hand, suddenly very conscious of the fact that she was sitting up in her bed wearing a bra and underwear and damp towels. "So if it's not that, then… what is it you would have to do?"
"The type of mind meld I would perform would simply involve touching my hands to your face to access your mind and aid you in sorting through your thoughts."
"You would know what I was thinking?"
"I likely would not be able to discern every literal thought you were thinking, but-."
"No."
"When you say 'no,' do you mean to imply-"
"No," Dagny repeated. "It's bad enough that you can know what I'm feeling at any given time. You don't get to know what I'm thinking too. That's private."
"I appreciate your hesitation, particularly because such a meld would simultaneously allow you access to some of my thoughts."
Dagny finally peeled her hands away from her face and gave him a perplexed look. "You're willing to let me inside of your head?"
"I do not prefer it and if I thought there were a better option, I would propose it."
"You would do that to make me feel better?"
"It is not only you who suffers. We share a bond: it would be illogical to deny it. When you experience particularly powerful emotions, I experience them also and in recent weeks, I've found myself increasingly incapable of repressing my own emotions."
Dagny's jaw sagged open. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know. I guess I should have. I didn't realize how bad things were until now."
"Nor did I," he admitted. "Will you allow me to meld with you?"
She wanted to say yes, for both of their sakes, but she hated the idea of giving him free access to her thoughts. She recalled telling him she might be interested in him earlier that evening and groaned inwardly. She didn't know how she thought about Voris, or how she felt about him, and the idea that he might learn things about her that even she didn't know was certainly a strange one.
"I- I- couldn't we- there has to be some other way."
Voris' eyebrow twitched, if only slightly. The microexpression seemed like the tip of the iceberg, a small crack that had finally reached the surface of what was really an enormous, internal divide. He was exhausted and weary and it was largely her fault. She felt terrible.
"I'm sorry, I-"
"Do not apologize. I can prescribe the mood stabilizers; they should be somewhat beneficial."
Dagny nodded. "Thank you."
"It is late, but you should consume a meal. I prepared a stew and took some to Miss Dalal approximately one hour ago."
Even though she hated being taken care of, she was hungry. He left her bedside to allow her to dress, and then they sat down to a watery bean soup. Neither of them spoke, but what was there to say?
They went to bed shortly after and Dagny lie awake in the darkness, rubbing her aching right arm and wondering what the hell she was supposed to do. She hated feeling intensely emotional, but she just couldn't give Voris access to her thoughts—that was out of the question.
He would learn things about her that she had never told anyone. What if he learned she'd lost her virginity on a biobed to a guy who had just proposed to her? What if he learned about Erik and Pearson? Worse, what if he learned about… She swallowed hard. She didn't allow her mind to finish its train of thought, but it didn't matter: thoughts were thoughts and they were hard to control once they'd already started.
She touched her thumb to her chin and shuddered. How was she only just now figuring out she was falling in love with Voris? There had to be some way to avoid it. But did she want to avoid it?
She rolled her head on her pillow and stared at the sheet dividing their beds. She thought of falling asleep with him the night their baby had moved, of all the tender ways he'd taken care of her. She thought of Adelaide's advice and all the evenings they'd spent together as he'd taught her about medicine and his native language. How had she been so blind?
One thing was for sure, she could never submit to a mind meld now. She had to find some other way to get control of her feelings, or else he would certainly find out how she felt. Maybe he already knew. Now that she thought about it, he had to know. If he was feeling everything she was feeling and it was taking a toll on him, surely he knew how she felt about him, even if she'd been denying it to herself.
This realization put everything into a different perspective. She'd told him she might be interested in him and he'd just ignored her confession. It was a brutal punch to the gut. He'd also kissed Vaksur—another painful jab. She rolled onto her side to face the kitchen, clutched her belly, and tried to keep the tears from coming.
She wasn't successful.
"Do you require anything from the grocer?" Voris asked, collecting his cloak and tossing it around his shoulders.
"No."
He'd anticipated she would say that. It had been two days since her fall and emotional outburst and she had barely looked at or spoken to him since. She'd begun a regimen of mood stabilizers and her emotions were far more manageable, but he still sensed incredible conflict in her.
"There is little food remaining in the preservation unit," he reminded her.
"Oh."
"Is there anything else you require for the next several hours?" Voris asked, making a note to himself to speak with Zernon about delivering a parcel of food in the morning.
"No."
He nodded and left without bidding her goodbye, only because he doubted she would respond. The main tunnel was already full of people wandering toward the primary mining tunnel where there was to be a colony-wide meeting beginning at 1900 hours.
"How ye doin', Doc?"
"I am well.
"And the missus, how is she?"
Voris hesitated. "She is well also."
"Doctor, doctor!" a voice squealed from behind them. Voris wheeled around to see Zernon trotting toward them. "I've been meaning to come by all day but couldn't find the time. My arthritis is flaring up again."
"I had also meant to speak with you," Voris replied. "We require groceries."
"Doesn't everybody," Zernon sighed, a soft, porcine squeal escaping his lips. "The greenhouses just can't keep up with demand. The strawberries they brought me are the size of marbles. It's truly shameful."
"We do not require anything specific," Voris replied. "The standard grocery delivery will be acceptable."
"The standard's been cut by a third until further notice," Zernon said. "Not my rules. I guess the people in charge have decided we have too many mouths to feed and not enough food to go around. And people have been yelling at me all day, as though it's my fault."
"People do strange things when they think they'll be goin' hungry," the constable replied, looking around nervously as the crowds of people zooming around them.
"They're going to want Sam's head on a pike," Zernon added. "I'm amazed she has the nerve to show herself in front of the whole colony."
"If there were ever a woman with more nerve than Samantha Bergeron, I'd eat my hat," Constable Kilpatrick insisted.
Voris cocked his head. "You are not wearing a hat, though if you were, what would consuming it accomplish?"
Zernon and Kilpatrick exchanged smug looks. "They blame her for the quarantine, for the Gorn and Klingon incursions, for the outbreak, and now people aren't eating as much as they used to. No one's on the verge of starving, mind you, but it certainly hasn't made her any more popular."
"Who is 'they' then?" the constable asked.
"Everyone. All I'm saying is, there are a lot of people out for her blood right now so maybe it's a good thing the colony doctor and the head of the police force will be in attendance."
They fell into the back of a large group and entered the primary mining tunnel, the only place underground large enough to comfortably fit all the colonists. The primary mining tunnel had been tapped out nearly a year ago, but engineers had come behind and cut terraces into the rock to create an amphitheater that could seat up to 6,000 individuals.
Many of the seats near the stage had already been claimed, but few people were sitting. Most milled around, some leaning against the walls with crossed arms while others were speaking in hushed, conspiratorial voices. Occasionally, the cry of a child or raucous laughter would ring out and the acoustics of the underground amphitheater amplified the sound.
He saw many people he knew, including some who took the opportunity to solicit medical advice or request an exam, but he had grown strict in his policy to only treat patients during duty hours, unless it was an emergency. Beyond the requests for medical service, he found himself greeted by person after person who wanted to thank him for his previous work. He saw Sora, who had visited him a month and a half ago with a pulmonary embolism, and her husband, Gaz. Sora began asking him questions about Tellarite fertility when a static hum echoed off the walls. He glanced at the stage below to see Samantha Bergeron waving her hands to settle people down.
"Excuse me," Voris said, wandering toward the back where Zernon and the constable were standing.
He caught sight of a lone, haggard man slumped on one of the benches carved into the rock and nearly thought he was ill, but it was difficult to tell behind the patchy beard. He stared at the man, tempted to approach him and ask if he was feeling well, then realized it was Pearson Schoenbein.
"Sad story, that," the constable whispered, realizing what Voris was looking at.
"Explain."
"The usual. Young man comes to a colony world, takes a fondness fer drink. He's been down in Jester's nearly every night, until Old Man Blakely finally had to throw him out. It's like the kid thinks he can drink all the booze on the colony."
"This must have been a fairly recent development," Voris said. "He appeared healthy when last I spoke to him."
It occurred to Voris the last time he'd spoken to Mr. Schoenbein, it had been the day of Adelaide Proctor's funeral, when he'd vaguely hinted to the man that Melana's child had been his. Pearson coughed and looked around, then noticed Voris was watching him and quickly looked away.
"I want to thank you all for coming this evening," Sam began, summoning Voris to turn his attentions away from Mr. Schoenbein.
"Like we had a choice!" shouted someone on the left.
"You did have a choice," Sam retorted firmly. "This wasn't mandatory."
"We'll be starving outside of six months and she says this isn't mandatory!" cried someone else.
"We've faced tougher times than these," Sam replied.
"Yeah, back when there was just a few hundred of us!"
The auditorium erupted into shouts and accusations against everyone from the Orions to Samantha Bergeron. Voris was nearly tempted to return to the clinic and prepare to receive mass casualties from the riot that seemed certain to ensue, but a loud horn shrieked several notes, and people settled down.
"I get it," Sam growled. "You're angry. And you think I'm not doing a good job-"
"That's 'cause you-" someone started to interrupt, but Sam's head snapped in the man's direction and she said, "Shut up, Amos!"
There was a bit of laughter and some grumbling, but no one followed the man's example of insolence. Sam took a deep breath and continued. "The truth is, this colony has grown so much bigger than it was ever supposed to. I never wanted us to be the sort of place that turned people away and I certainly don't want to be the sort of place that turns on each other, but I've been seeing a lot of that lately."
Some heads nodded in agreement.
"It was naïve of me to think we could get by on the golden rule. It's becoming clear we need some kind of government, some basic laws, just to remind us that we can do better than finger-pointing and silly tribal politics."
"And who's going to be in charge of this government?" a woman called out. "You?"
"A lot of you have called me a dictator in the past couple weeks," Sam began, her words nearly drowned out by the colony's reaction. "But I want everyone to know I'm stepping down."
That statement caused an uproar that lasted for nearly ten minutes and from the nearby grumblings he could discern, it seemed that though the colony was dissatisfied with Samantha Bergeron's recent performance, few people had any idea of who should succeed her.
Sam was eventually forced to sound the horn again to quiet everyone down, but she was unable to achieve total silence. "Listen, I want to establish a council. An elected council. One that will establish a constitution. I've spoken to several of you over the past few days and you've given me good advice. We need an elected government—it can't just be me anymore."
"Who's gonna be on this council, then?" asked a man near the front, sending a wave of murmurs and nodding heads through the assembled group.
"Starting tomorrow morning, we're going to open up three polling stations around the colony for people to begin a nomination process. Everyone over the age of thirteen—or anyone considered a legal adult according to their respective culture—will be able to nominate up to three other people they think would be a good fit for our new council. After a week, we'll tally the votes and notify the top nine people they have been selected to sit on the council."
Voris glanced around the amphitheater, sensing more optimism radiating from the populace than there had been in weeks. The debates continued on for nearly another hour as people shouted questions about how they were going to ensure fairness and whether it would be a better idea to have a representative from each of the most populous races. The Andorians and Romulans were particularly leery about electing a government of humans.
The conversation went in circles and several changes were made to the nominating process, such that each voter would be biometrically scanned to ensure they couldn't vote twice, but also to ensure that at least one of the three people they nominated was of a different species than themselves. Then arguments began about how to achieve the kind of diversity that would satisfy everyone, as most of the Orions refused to accept a council dominated by men and most of the Andorians didn't want anyone under the age of sixty to sit on the council, which the handful of Suliban colonists found offensive, given the average lifespan of the Suliban was only fifty-eight Standard years.
Voting would not begin until tomorrow but it was clear that certain people were already well-positioned to become clear favorites to win a seat on the new council. Kor'la, a Klingon woman in charge of one of the mining shifts and Anja, Aisla's aunt, were garnering a lot of attention. Someone shouted out the constable's name and many people turned to look, but upon seeing Voris standing next to Constable Kilpatrick, several dozen people shouted in unison some version of, "What about Dr. Voris?"
"I have no interest in governing," he tried telling the people in his proximity. "I have no experience and I stay quite occupied with the clinic."
His protestations were drowned out by enthusiasm. It seemed Samantha Bergeron had been correct in her assumption that people trusted Vulcans, not only because they were viewed as dispassionate and intelligent, but because as one of only two Vulcans on the colony, people seemed to think he would be impartial and not have any vested interest in supporting any one group over another.
He heard someone argue, "But his wife's human!" to which someone else responded, "She's not his wife, stupid. She just works in the clinic."
It was nearly 2100 hours and as Voris sensed the conversation wasn't bound to become more productive, he started moving toward the exit. He had no interest in serving on the council and if he were elected to it, which seemed likely, he could simply refuse the position. Other people were already leaving too and just as he turned the corner to head toward the main tunnel, he encountered Jon and Ann Svendsen, along with their brood of four children.
"Good evening, Dr. Voris," Jon smiled.
"Yes. I trust you are well?"
"As well as can be, I guess," Ann replied. "How's Dagny?"
He wasn't sure how to answer and Ann evidently detected something amiss from his hesitation. "Why don't you get everyone home?" she said to her husband, kissing him. "The children have school tomorrow."
Voris bid goodbye to Jon and their children and when they were out of earshot, Ann turned and started walking with him to the clinic. "Is something wrong with the baby?"
"Both Dagny and the child are healthy," he explained. He was uncomfortable discussing his and Dagny's private situation, but Ann was an old friend and relation of Dagny's.
"She must be going a bit stir-crazy, cooped up in that clinic until the baby's born," Ann replied.
"She will not need to be confined for the duration of her pregnancy, only until approximately the eighth month of gestation."
"I'm really sorry I haven't stopped by more to see her ever since the outbreak. We've been so busy, trying to get the Oglethorpe landed and settled for the quarantine. Now that it's done, I've got too much time on my hands. I could probably come by for a visit."
"I am confident she would welcome you," Voris replied. "I believe she is… lonely."
Ann grimaced and swallowed hard. "I feel so bad. Dagny's like a daughter to me, but sometimes… it's hard to explain. She looks so much like her mother. Sometimes being around her makes me think of all the people I'm never going to see again. That must sound so selfish."
Voris thought it was rather illogical, but he was also well enough acquainted with loss to know there was no logic to it. He nodded and said, "You are welcome in our home whenever you like."
"It's so weird to think of Dagny being grown up and having a home and family of her own," Ann sighed. "It seems like just yesterday she was missing her two front teeth, wearing her hair in pigtails, and running around with the Karlsen sisters. Or maybe that was Frida. Anyway, I've known her since she was born and it's hard not to think of her as a little girl but the truth is, she hasn't been a little girl in a long time."
Voris often did his best to ignore the fact that Dagny was as young as she was and perhaps he had been doing her a great disservice because of it. He expected quite a bit from her because she had proven herself capable of so much, but perhaps that was unrealistic.
"Of all the kids on the Albret though, I never imagined she would be one to settle down and have a baby."
"She seems quite fond of children."
"Well, she helped her mother raise enough of her brothers and sisters, not to mention she was something of a mother hen to most of the other kids on the Albret, but I never got the sense she wanted any of her own. She always so focused on going to medical school."
"She still intends to receive her education."
"It'll be hard with a baby though, not to mention no matter what any of us wants, we're stuck here for the next year."
"There are many challenges and impediments to consider but she is capable, if she wants it, and I will assist her in any way I can."
Ann smiled. "I'm not going to pretend like I understand the situation between the two of you—there's enough colony gossip about it anyway—but thank you for taking care of her, after everything that's happened. She's a smart girl but she was forced to grow up way too fast and she's never known life beyond a salvage ship. She could have easily gotten lost in some kind of bureaucratic maze or met the wrong people and been taken advantage of or worse. You're a good man, Dr. Voris. It's why everyone on the colony wants you on the council."
As they approached the clinic, Voris spied a figure hunched over by the door and lengthened his stride. "I must go. Thank you, Mrs. Svendsen."
"Take care, Dr. Voris."
After several more paces he was able to identify the person on the clinic's doorstep as a Gorn, and after several more steps, he realized it was Apras' son, Eury, who only had one eye and had bitten him hard enough to puncture his radial vein.
"Is something wrong?"
Eury wore one of the Gorn's cumbersome universal translators around his neck, but he didn't say anything, he merely pointed down the tunnel toward the stairs leading up to the surface. He repeated himself, but as Eury remained silent, he opted for a different tactic.
"What do you need?"
Eury looked around and so did Voris. There were about a dozen people milling around, whether on their way to their homes or somewhere else, but his mother and brothers were nowhere to be seen. Eury pointed toward the stairs and moved in that direction, giving Voris the impression he was expected to follow.
Eury picked up speed when he started to scurry on four legs and Voris nearly had to trot to keep on pace. Rather than turn up the stairs, they passed Zernon's closed grocery and down a narrow side tunnel Voris hadn't noticed before. It was incredibly dark—just meters away from the main tunnel, Voris couldn't see his hand in front of his own face.
He extracted his PADD from his breast pocket and turned on the small light, but Eury was far ahead of him. Gorn had exceptional night vision and even in total darkness, they were capable of moving through a form of echolocation, but Voris was quickly disoriented. Suddenly something pulled at his pants leg and he was stunned to find Eury had come up behind him.
Then he saw why the boy had brought him here. Tucked into a pocket in the rock was a pile of five dead rats and an emaciated Harold lying on his side with his back facing them. When had Voris last seen the cat, or even thought about him? He could not remember. Harold had been fairly independent when he'd lived on New Vulcan, but since relocating to Bergeron colony, he'd become virtually feral, spending longer and longer periods of time away from the clinic.
Eury squatted down, picked up one of the rodents, and tried to feed Harold, but the cat didn't make any effort to eat it. Voris took a knee and stroked Harold's back and though the cat's skin reflexively twitched at the contact, he didn't otherwise move.
"Have you been feeding him?"
The nictitating membranes of Eury's eyes flicked and he seemed to think to himself for a long time before shrugging and saying, "Friend."
"He is very sick," Voris tried to explain, wondering if Eury could comprehend. Though he wasn't sure how much he could do for the feline, he also added, "I want to take him to the clinic."
Eury took nearly a minute to think it over, wringing his front claws and stamping his feet, but eventually he seemed to consent and allowed Voris to pick up Harold, the Terran cat he'd called his "friend." Eury began bouncing and scrambling around in the narrow tunnel, driven to motion by some instinctive impulse.
Harold was little more than skin and bones. Voris cradled him in his arms and he let out a soft "mew." He started back down the tunnel, doing his best to follow his young Gorn guide. Out in the light of the tunnel, he looked over Harold, but it was difficult to make a diagnosis. He had been old when Voris had inherited him from Mrs. DePaulo, and more than two years and two different planets later, it was unsurprising that Harold might be approaching the end of his life.
Eury was running laps around Voris on all fours, clearly excited someone was helping his feline companion. It was peculiar that two social misfits should have forged such a bond but Voris was grateful to Eury. "Does your mother know where you are?"
Eury crouched at the clinic door and shook his head. Voris supposed he was obligated to escort Eury home but he also supposed another five minutes would matter little, and he would prefer to stabilize Harold first. They entered the clinic and he set the cat on one of the biobeds. The clinic wasn't set up for veterinary practice and Voris had little knowledge of Terran feline physiology, but he was well-practiced in interspecies medicine. Harold wasn't humanoid, but for all intents and purposes, Voris biologically shared more in common with the mammalian cat than he did with Eury.
Before Voris could begin a scan, he was stopped in his tracks by a loud crash. Eury had upended one of the shelves of the pharmaceutical cabinet and dozens of hypospray canisters littered the floor. Voris decided there was no value in attempting to be polite. "Sit down."
Eury complied immediately, pushing his tail out of the way and plopping down on the floor. Voris had intended him to sit in a chair, but he saw no need to alter the current situation.
Harold was in very poor shape. In addition to being very underweight, he was dehydrated and appeared to have lost most of the vision in his good eye. He started him on fluids and ran a quick scan, but he stopped counting at thirteen tumorous masses. He set the tricorder down and gently scratched Harold between the ears.
He wasn't particularly confident about his ability to correct the cancer that had taken over Harold's body. He couldn't decide whether he had neglected Harold or whether Harold had neglected him, but perhaps it was a bit of both. Harold had never really been his cat: they had only forged an informal relationship in the wake of the loss of their respective families.
In the early weeks after Vulcan's destruction, they had been very close, but as time went on and they'd both healed, they'd come to the unspoken agreement that neither of them really needed the other anymore. How foolish he'd been. Powerful sadness washed over him as he stroked Harold's torn ear.
Then his reverie was broken by a piercing scream coming from upstairs. Without stopping to think, Voris flew up the stairs four at a time and tripped over Eury, who came bursting out of his quarters. He slid halfway down the stairs and blinked several times, trying to catch his breath.
"What was that?" Dagny screeched. "Voris?"
He hoisted himself to his feet and glared at Eury, who was huddled into a ball at the base of the stairs. Apparently in the split second Voris had been distracted over his sadness for Harold, Eury had taken it upon himself to go wandering into his quarters. Dagny appeared at the top of the stairs and was wrapping a robe around herself. "What's going on?"
"Harold is sick," Voris said, wincing from the pain in his right side. "Eury brought this to my attention."
Dagny glided down the stairs to meet him. "Are you ok?"
"I believe so."
She furrowed her brow, clutched her chest, and glanced over Voris' shoulder. "Sorry to disturb you, I guess. I just wasn't expecting to be woken up by a little Gorn boy jumping into bed with me. Anyway, what's wrong with Harold? I don't feel like I've seen him in over a month."
"He has cancer. I do not expect him to live much longer."
Dagny clasped her hand over her mouth and pushed past him. When he met her at the base of the stairs, he saw that Eury had climbed up on the biobed with the cat and was petting him, quite roughly by any normal standard, but what was probably quite gently to a Gorn.
"Hi, Eury," Dagny cooed. "Sorry if I scared you, but you scared me too."
Eury continued to stare at the cat, then mumbled something that sounded like, "Friend?"
"I'm afraid there's nothing I can do for him," Voris said, approaching the bed. "I can make it so he doesn't hurt anymore."
"Hurt?"
"No hurt. No pain."
"Is there really nothing you can do?" Dagny croaked.
"I can try to prolong his life by several days, but I believe palliative care would be the kinder option."
Dagny sniffed and turned back to Eury. "Have you been taking care of him?"
Voris thought of the rats in the tunnel and suspected Eury had been catching them to feed to the sickly cat. Eury nodded. Dagny continued to smile even though tears trickled down her cheeks. "Thank you so much for helping him."
"It is growing late and his mother does not know his whereabouts," Voris said. "I had thought I would take him home."
"I can stay with Harold," she said, her voice cracking as she started to cry openly. Her despair was adding to Voris' and for a moment even he felt compelled to join her.
It was difficult, watching Eury say goodbye to his feline friend, but after a brief scuffle, he agreed to follow Voris out of the clinic into the main tunnel. It took fifteen minutes to reach the Gorn settlement, and he got several curious looks from several Gorn men as they passed.
Apras seemed unsurprised to see that her son had been wandering around unsupervised in the main tunnel, but as two of her other boys, Calo and Echin, were snapping at each other's throats, he supposed she had been too occupied to notice.
The tunnels were filling up and it seemed that the colony meeting had officially concluded. Many people nodded or waved to Voris as they passed, which gave him the distinct impression they knew something he didn't, but he had no current interest in making inquiries. The closer he got to the clinic, the more intense his grief over Harold's impending loss became.
When he opened the door, Dagny was clutching him to her chest and sobbing. "He stopped breathing and I couldn't get him to come back to me."
Voris approached her and peeked under her arm at Harold's face. His eyes were half open, but the light was gone from them and it took enormous concentration to prevent himself from joining Dagny's emotional display. Death was the natural conclusion of life. Death came for everything eventually. It was logical. But watching Dagny squeeze Harold to her chest and bitterly weep into his fur made him intensely distressed.
She took a stumbling half step forward, and some ancient instinct compelled Voris to reach forward and the next thing he knew, he had Dagny caught in a tight embrace. She sobbed and he held her, and he resolved to continue holding her until she no longer needed him to.