Betazed
Chapter 2
To Boldly Go
I've been a nerd all thirty-nine years of my life. I get it from my Dad, who named me Aurigae because I was born on the day the last Star Trek episode aired, June 3rd, 1969. Aurigae Beta was where the Enterprise was headed on their last episodic mission. I asked him why he didn't name me Janice, since the female lead for that episode was Dr. Janice Lester. He smirked and said it was too mundane for a smart girl like me. That was my Dad for you. Most people call me Auri, which I prefer.
Obviously, I missed watching when the original Star Trek first aired, but I was glued to the set in September, 1987 when The Next Generation debuted. My Dad took me to my first Star Trek Convention in the early seventies. It was held in the old and tattered San Diego Hotel, downtown San Diego. The rooms were dark and dingy, quite small for a convention. But, in 1977, not too many people went to Star Trek conventions. Star Trek had been off the air for eight years and, although it did well in reruns, the conventions weren't exactly popular except among the faithful. Star Wars had just come out and it had blown most of us away with its special effects.
How did I get started on the history of Star Trek? Oh,that's right, I was going to tell you how I met Gregory Scott Furey. I wasn't going to go to the Star Trek Convention being held downtown San Diego. I hadn't been to a convention in years. I was scheduled to attend a lecture in the Convention Center early in the morning and, when I saw a group of Klingons shopping in the Gas Lamp District, I decided I would buy myself a one day pass. Then I discovered that both Bill Shatner and Leonard Nimoy were going to appear on stage Saturday, so I purchased a weekend pass. Besides, if I got tired of the Convention, there were plenty of restaurants, galleries and a shopping mall nearby. I could keep myself occupied.
I loved all the Sci Fi shows, but Star Trek held a special place in my heart because I shared it with my Dad. I buried him with a phaser by his side. I figured that way, if he found himself in hell, he could blast his way out. But Dad wasn't going to hell; he was my champion. My mother was a druggie and she practically threw me to him when I was born and was out the door in the next breath. But that was okay. My Dad and I were a good team. When he married Jane, I gave her a hard time for about a year (I was ten), but then I calmed down and realized she had a big heart, just like my Dad. I wasn't an easy kid to raise because I was different. My grandma had to move out to San Diego to teach me how to grow up sane while being different.
I didn't wear a uniform or costume to the convention; I never did. I had one, but I only wore it at Halloween. Friday night I made my way to the convention center which in San Diego looks like a large cement sail boat. It's a pretty building and is distinctive, but it is rather large meaning I had to past two conferences, one which was the Travel Goods Association and the other the Advances in Medical Technology Symposium. I was beginning to think I was lost, but relieved to see three Klingons as I turned the corner. They were talking to a Bijoran and a Romulan.
I saw the four lines in front of the reception tables, each with a set of letters over them. I got into the 'F-L' line. I was standing, reading the schedule when I heard a boy's voice.
I'm glad it's Dad, Uncle Jimmy would be polite and sit where he's suppose to sit. Dad will get us up front.
I looked up and didn't see anyone talking. Behind me were two teenage Ferengi. I smiled because that they were the best Ferengi I had ever seen at a Trek convention, their ears were so realistic. In front of me was a woman and her daughter apparently waiting for her son to return to the line from the bathroom.
"Look, I'm a cripple here...move this a little faster or let me move to the front of the line!" A crippled man with a cane standing next to a boy was making a fuss. He seemed to be capable of standing, but he went to the front of the line and yelled at the woman behind the desk, "I can't stand long hours, where's your boss?"
The boy stayed in line to hold their place, but the man motioned for the boy to join him.
Oh Dad, not this...wait until we get inside to play the cripple card, to get us up front.
I couldn't see who was talking, but I assumed it had to be the boy because he hung his head and shook it in embarrassment as his father continued to motion for him to come to the front of the line. The boy turned to look at the long line behind him. Our eyes met briefly and I was shocked by how blue they were. He looked so much like the man making a fuss at the front of the line that there was no mistaking they were father and son. The boy skulked to the front and within minutes they both disappeared into the Exhibition Room.
A half hour later I was registered and had my badge. I had purchased the Gold Package, entitling me to a reserved seat in the first five rows back from the stage. The first guest, Marina Sirtis was scheduled to start in fifteen minutes. I went to the bathroom and then made my way up to my seat. I found my seat, but it was occupied by the crippled man.
"Excuse me, you're in my seat." I smiled at him.
He looked me over without smiling. He was trying to sum me up, figure out what I might do. I felt a slight panic from the little boy, the man was just annoyed. Unfortunately, I could also see that his pain was unbearable sometimes, not the leg, the pain he felt from 'the loss.' I sensed that he was debating between standing his ground or giving in.
"Look, here's my ticket. Your son has my seat. If you'll show me your ticket, maybe we can find you your seat."
He said nothing, but he was clearly pissed at me for stirring the pot. I could tell that he didn't want to push it with me for some reason. I was tempted to listen in and find out what he was really thinking, but I resisted the temptation. He scooted over a seat, his son did too and I sat down next to them.
The father got up, "I'll be back; I've got to pee." He took off, his cane clacking across the floor and out the side exit of the large hall. The room sat over 4,000 people in lines of eighty chairs each. Only the last two rows of the auditorium had empty seats.
I could clearly hear his son.
Man, that was close, I'm glad he didn't make a scene or they might have made us move to the back where we belong.
I turned sharply to look at the boy. My seats had cost me an extra $150 over the seats in the back and I was pissed that this boy and his father were essentially stealing the seats. The boy's expression turned from eager anticipation to fear when he saw my eyes, wide open from his admission, staring at him.
"You don't have gold seats?" I asked, my mouth drawn and my eyes narrowed.
His eyes bugged out and he swallowed hard. He slowly shook his head.
I thought about it. I could feel his terror, the idea that if he had to move back now, he'd have to sit way in the back. "You know, if the people who have those seats come, you're going to have to move back?"
He nodded. He looked so worried and embarrassed, I took pity on him. He looked like he was ten, maybe older, maybe younger. His t-shirt was one of the older, "Search for Spock" shirts. They had been out of print for over fifteen years so I knew he must be a real fan.
I turned in my seat to face the front and heard him say, Oh man, I wish Dad had let Uncle Jimmy buy the seats.
"Why? Do you have Silver or Open seats?" I asked him. The silver seats started five rows back and the open seats, which were the cheapest, started ten rows back.
"We have gold seats, but they're in the fifth row. My Dad convinced the other guy who tried to get us to move that these were the handicap seats. He told him that his seat had been moved back to where ours really are. He cheated."
He was so worried that I was going to give him up that I smiled as warmly as I could, "Cool shirt. I bought it when it first came out. Mine's faded now."
He grinned and nodded, "My Uncle Jimmy bought it for me on Ebay. It's so rad."
"Yeah, it's not my favorite movie, but I enjoyed it." I looked up to see his father coming back to take his seat.
He smiled, "My favorite movie is "The Wrath of Khan."
I nodded, "Sweet, mine too!"
"I'm Greg." he said with the kindest voice I had heard come from a kid.
"I'm Aurigae Beta."
He cocked his head and stared at me as if I was playing a joke on him. "Like the planet in Star Trek? For real?"
I giggled, "For real. But you can call me Auri."
His father sat down and looked at the two of us. I had a chance to finally get a good look at him. He was tall, grayish brown hair with a long face. He had a short clipped beard and the nicest looking fingers I had ever seen on a man. I figured he was fifty, maybe more.
"My Dad plays piano." Greg said.
I turned my gaze from the father's fingers back to the little boy, "Cool. Then it hit me, pictures of the two of them playing piano together and then guitar. "Are you any good at playing piano Greg?"
I was surprised to hear the father respond, "I'm sorry, but he doesn't know you. I don't know you. You're a stranger." Then he looked at his son, "What did we tell you about strangers?"
I looked up at the father and opened my mind. The flood of noise in his head was incredible. Cute...what forty? And going to Star Trek Conventions by herself? Pathetic. And what is it with that kid? He'll strike up a conversation with anyone. He has to learn that you can't just talk to anyone. Still, she's got nice legs and perky breasts. I'd tap that. Too bad I'm not here by myself. I wonder if she likes one night stands? Maybe a quickie when Wilson takes over. Should I even bother striking up a conversation? Nah, there's that cute thirtyish Urologist I met this morning...she's young and hot. I'll work on her. This one would probably want to give me a Spock pinch and ask me to call her Bones while we're screwing. Besides, she's laughing to herself...probably bonkers.
I looked over quickly at him, laughing. I shook my head.
I heard his son, Don't believe everything my Dad thinks, he's not as bad as he sounds.
I glanced down at the boy, but he wasn't saying a word. However, he was looking at me and he had clearly communicated with me. Were you talking to me? I thought.
He smiled. I could feel his excitement, Then you can hear me! Right? You can hear me think, can't you?
I chuckled, it had been a long time since I had met someone like myself, especially someone this good at this age. Have you always been an Intuitive?
He nodded.
Has it been hard for you to learn how to control your talent?
He said outloud, "Sometimes. My Dad doesn't like it."
His father turned and looked at him, "I don't like what?"
He smiled at me and then turned to his Dad, "Star Trek Conventions."
"Well look at everyone? It's mass hysteria. They all have a common belief that this is real."
The little boy and I looked at each other and grinned. We said in unison, "It is!" and then started to giggle.
His father shook his head, but I could see him start to melt in the delight of his son's laughter. The show started and we stopped giggling, but Greg and I kept up our conversation.
She still looks good, doesn't she? I asked as Deanna Sirtis took the stage.
I like Betazeds because they're like us.
Yeah, me too. I thought it was cool that they could read emotions and minds. But I didn't like the way she always held her head and talked about, 'the pain' as if all anyone ever felt was pain.
He giggled and nodded.
We talked the whole way through the presentation and I found out that the boy was only eight. He sounded and looked several years older. He was brilliant and I could see his mind when he thought in abstracts. His mind formed images most of the time rather than words. They were clear, concise images B very logical in their patterns.
Where's your mother?
She died when I was a baby.
I felt a wave of sadness, a longing more for what he thought he was missing than what he actually was missing. That's a shame. So it's just you and your Dad?
And Uncle Jimmy. He's not really my uncle; he's like a second Dad.
My mind went off track. It didn't make sense, the thoughts coming from his father were very heterosexual. Yet this child was telling me that he had an "Uncle" Jimmy that was like a second Dad. He felt my confusion.
He was shocked when he realized I thought he was insinuating his father was gay. He didn't send me the thought, instead he shouted out, "My Dad's not gay!"
His father jerked his head around in shock to stare at the boy along with half the audience. Everyone who heard started laughing. His father stared down at his son, brow furred, nose wrinkled, "Thanks for that revelation, but where did that come from?"
The boy looked at me and then shook his head, "I just thought of something. Sorry Dad."
His father looked at me suspiciously and then shrugged. We all turned our attention to Marina Sirtis, who was still glancing occasionally in our direction, amused at the outburst. I smiled to myself.
Thanks for letting me know he's not gay.
You'd like my Dad.
I chuckled; I could see images in his head of his father and me holding hands walking by a lake during a sunset, him playing by us. It was like a Hallmark Card, a juvenile idea of what love is. This was an intuitive attempt at a setup. I wanted to hug the boy; he was so excited about the idea. I had to be gentle. I sent back images of his father, the boy and I having lunch, me shaking their hands and walking off, a sign of friendship. He looked up into my eyes with sadness and disappointment. I so wanted to hug the boy. I had unwittingly crushed his hopes.
The seminar ended and I got up to go into the dealer's room where the booths and tables selling Star Trek and Science Fiction Memorabilia were set up. I felt Greg behind me. I turned and saw him dragging his father by the hand towards the dealer's room or me, I wasn't sure. He slowed up as soon as he got close to me, tailing a few feet behind. I chortled, the kid was tenacious. I turned and smiled at him.
"Are you planning on buying anything exciting?"
He looked up at his Dad and then back to me, "It's my birthday today."
I smiled brightly, "Really? Oh, so you're Dad is going to buy you something from the dealers?" I glanced up at his Dad who was shaking his head.
He looked very soberly at me, "This trip was his birthday gift."
"Oh? Where are you from?"
"Princeton."
My mouth dropped open, "Wow! That's a long way to come for a Star Trek Convention!"
The little boy took advantage of the segue. He immediately transmitted a picture of his father in an office in a hospital, My Dad is a world famous doctor. People come from all over the world to be treated by him. You'd like him.
It was obvious that the little boy and I were staring at each other too long without saying anything and it was making his father both uncomfortable and suspicious. His Dad said, "His grandmother lives here in San Diego. It was a three-fer...I go to the Medical Technology Conferece; he goes to the Star Trek Convention and we see his grandmother."
"Well, that's quite a gift." I continued to walk into the dealer's room, Greg by my side.
The little boy looked up at me with those incredible eyes, "I want to buy the first edition Star Trek Compendium with money my Uncle Jimmy gave me."
"How much did he give you?"
"$20, but he also gave me a Chemistry set."
I looked closely at him, "Have you ever seen the Concordance with the wheel?"
He nodded, "On Ebay, not in person. But I can't afford it."
"Would you like to see one in person?'
The boy nodded enthusiastically. I motioned for him to follow me. We made our way past tables of fanzines, books, Hallmark ornaments, uniforms, bumper stickers, Fanfics, calendars, jewelry, masks, and other souvenirs for the Trekkie to take home to evidence their affection for the series. I found Trevor, my favorite dealer. Trevor was as much a Trekkie as I am and he was a fair dealer, charging fair prices.
"Hi Trev. This is my friend Greg and his Dad..." I turned and looked at the tall doctor.
"Greg. Greg House." He pointed to his son, "We're a pair of Gregs."
"I was going to show Greg the Compendium. Can you get it for me?"
"Sure." Trevor turned to find the Compendium.
I put a hand on the boy's shoulder, "Trevor emailed me that he found one. I have two at home, but he says this one is mint. I get first dibs on it."
Trevor handed me the Compendium in plastic. He also handed me a well-used one so that Greg could peruse the pages without disturbing the mint one in plastic. Greg handled it like it was the Book of Kells. His mouth was slightly open in awe as he turned the pages. His father stood behind him, interested at first, and then quickly bored.
"What do you think Greg?" I asked the little boy.
He looked up at me, his eyes big and his hands gripping the used one. "How much is it?"I could feel his father's disapproval right away. He knew that his son coveted the book.
Trevor said, "$75 because it's in mint condition."
I felt the little boy's hopes fade; he knew his Dad wouldn't fork out $75 after paying for the trip and convention. I saw him look around briefly, realizing he was looking for someone else. I opened the gate and saw that he was looking for Uncle Jimmy, but Uncle Jimmy wasn't around. He swallowed and looked up at his father. His eyes were sad; he could feel the resistance from his father like a brick wall. He didn't dare ask him to buy it for him, "Dad? Could you loan me $55? I'll pay you out of my allowance."
"No! You spend your money on stupid action figures. I'm not giving you $55 for a Star Trek Compendium."
I turned to his father, "To be fair, it's quite a collectible and will only go up in value."
A tall fat guy in his early twenties saw me holding the mint version of the Compendium and asked Trevor, "Is that for sale?"
Trevor nodded, "But these two have first rights to buy."
The guy eyed it greedily, "How much?"
"$75."
"I'll give you $85." The fat man said.
Greg looked at his father with his eyes wide open, as if to ask for his protection. He desperately wanted his father to change his mind so that he could have it. There was a long pause, but we could both feel that his father wasn't relenting.
I smiled, "Sorry, but I'm buying the book." As I pulled out my wallet, I felt disappointment radiate from little Greg. He was still upset that he couldn't have it, but little Greg was glad the fat guy didn't get it. I pulled out $85 and handed it to Trevor.
Trevor shook his head, "I told you $75 and I'll stand by that."
I shook my head back, "I tell you what, I'll give you $80. I want to do what's fair to you Trevor, you've been good to me over the years." I handed him $80 and he bagged it for me.
Greg the elder put his long fingers on Greg the Junior's shoulders, "Time to find Uncle Jimmy, I want to go to a presentation at 11:00 am."
Little Greg looked up at me, "Are you going to be here for the whole convention?"
I gave him an enthusiastic nod, "Off and on. Look, I want you to have this." I handed the Compendium to him and then thought, As one intuitive to another. I want you to see this and remember that your talent is a gift, not something to abuse or be afraid of, understand?
He nodded and took the book, "Thank you, Auri."
"You're welcomed Greg."
"Wait a second." His father said. We turned to look at him, "What's in it for you?"
I opened the gate and could feel both my mind and little Greg's searching to find out what he was thinking. The doctor was very suspicious of me, wondering if I was trying to kidnap his son or get something out of him. I was thinking through a response when I heard a very firm Get out of my head! I realized that Greg senior was screaming it in his mind. I was shocked that he could feel me. But he was looking down at his son with a firm scowl. I quickly realized he was chastising his son, not me. That didn't surprise me, non-intuitives can sometimes pick up on an Intuitive reading them if they're close to the person. They begin to get a "feeling" when someone's in their mind. My Dad and Grandmother knew, but not all the time. Usually, I got away with my scanning, I was very good at doing it without anyone knowing, but sometimes I got sloppy and they could feel me.
I realized that the father was very perceptive and might be somewhat Intuitive himself. Intuitives span the scale from people who are just a good judge (without knowing why) of others, to full blown telepaths and empaths. Little Greg was a full blown Intuitive like myself. I had only met four in my whole life. I wondered if it had been passed down by his father or his mother.
"Doctor, I have several of these Compendiums, I don't really know why I need another. I just want Greg to have something for his birthday from the Convention. Something he'll remember. I promise I'm not going to kidnap him or do anything devious. As cute as he is, I think he's too attached to his Dad to steal him away."
I felt his mind relax a little, but he was still concerned. Greg looked up at his Dad, "Can I keep it Dad?"
His father could see that if he said no, he'd be crushed. He sighed, "I guess."
Little Greg threw his arms around me and hugged me so hard the air escaped up from my diaphragm. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
I patted his back and glanced over at his Dad.
His father smiled slightly, the first time he showed any positive reaction, "He gets the smaltz from his mother. Come on Dude, let's find Wilson. Thank you for the book." He grabbed Little Greg's hand and pulled him into the crowd, the little boy staring intensely back at me.
We'll be back for lunch. Please don't eat lunch without us.
Thanks Greg, but you're Dad doesn't want to have anything to do with me. Good luck sweetie, bye, bye.
No! We'll be back, wait until at least one o'clock...please?
That was the last I heard, I closed the gate firmly so that he couldn't reach me. I smiled, but something in me was drawn to the little boy. He reminded me of someone. He looked just like his father, but there was something so kind, so gentle and I certainly didn't feel that from his father. I swore I wouldn't, but I didn't eat at noon, even though my stomach was growling.