"You're going on a marvelous adventure," said Ian.
"I guess so. But you're supposed to be here for my darkest hours. Is something going to go wrong?"
"No, but the sights you shall see, they will be upsetting ones, Lili. I am here."
"I'm glad. I can't do this without you."
And on the shuttle, because they were all sleeping cheek by jowl, José heard Lili say in her sleep, "I can't do this without you." He smiled and covered her feet with his blanket, as her own blanket had slipped a little.
=/\=
"Phnom Penh, dead ahead," José reported a few hours later, "I guess I should put on that uni, eh?"
"Yep," Lili agreed, "It's almost show time, General Torres."
One of the blankets was pressed into service as an impromptu dividing wall, with men on the right, and women on the left. There was otherwise no privacy on the Ikaaran shuttle.
José put on the unfamiliar uni as Hoshi and Lili also changed. Frank and Gary put on jackets that Sekar had made to match the time period, but otherwise they just wore what they had.
Hoshi and Lili took turns holding a little hand mirror for each other as they fixed their hair. Then Lili turned and ran a comb through José's remaining hair. "Thanks," he said.
"Well, I'm your wife, I guess. So I'd better start acting the part, and pretending to take care of you."
"You look good," he told her.
"Eh, I look like a rich, spoiled hausfrau," she complained. But it was true. Her clothing appeared more finely tailored but it was a little faded, as if it had been elegant once, but was out of style and could not be readily replaced. It was a little sky blue suit. She also had white flats and a matching frame purse. "Give me gloves and a pillbox hat and I could be Jackie Kennedy's long-lost descendant, I suppose."
"It's fine," José assured her.
She adjusted his nametag. "General Slocum, eh? Wasn't that a ship, or something?"
"I dunno," he mumbled, a little nervous, and then added, "uh, Mrs. Slocum."
"Egad, I rejected Chef the last time around, and I woulda rejected him again if he'd asked me out," Lili confided, "It just felt weird to be even thinking about going out with my boss."
"Does, um, does anyone feel, er, not so weird to you, Lili?"
She shook her head. "Not right now, no."
=/\=
The Ikaaran shuttle touched down on a small rice paddy outside Phnom Penh. The ground was spongy, but it held. They opened the hatch and got out. Kerna said, "If I see anyone coming, I will take off, and will return to the other side of your moon. Contact me if you do not see me."
"Right," Hoshi told her, "and thanks for doing this."
"It is a fascinating challenge. And while it is ill-advised for me to step outside, I am still the first of my species to see your planet so close. It is a great honor." She closed the hatch and the shuttle was completely invisible to the outside world.
"The city is over there," Frank pointed, after checking his PADD, "It's less than half a kilometer away."
"Let's go," Hoshi commanded.
=/\=
Phnom Penh in 2038 was bustling with activity. Unlike other Asian cities, it had not been bombed too extensively, although there were some ruined spots. The radiation levels were also fairly low. Compared to Lagos, Nigeria – which had been the first casualty of the Third World War, in 2026, when Colonel Green and his forces had dropped a stolen nuclear warhead on it – Phnom Penh was a virtual Garden of Eden.
"The info I checked said the live market was in the older part of the city," Gary informed them as they walked. He and Frank were carrying phase rifles, but Sekar had created covers for them that made them look like firearms of the time period. They could still be used.
Hoshi stopped the next person she saw, and asked him, an old man, for the directions in Khmer. The old man eyed the other four of them, pointing and gesticulating as he spoke to her in an animated fashion. He left, shaking his head.
"What the hell was that all about?" asked Frank.
"He said I shouldn't be working so closely with you Yankee Imperialist dogs, and that you'd all rape me in my sleep. I pointed out the general's wife, and he said she probably liked to watch."
"Egad," Lili made a face, "did you at least get some useful information out of him?"
"I did, despite all of that," Hoshi reported, "he probably just wanted to vent. Down this way."
They walked, and people stared, but they were at least left alone. Eventually, the homes began to appear more worn-down, and the street signs were bent or made of wood rather than metal, and then they were nonexistent. Children stepped by in dirty rags and stared at them, their faces covered by filthy surgical masks.
"What are the masks for?" José asked.
"Well, the live market'll probably reek," Lili explained, "but this looks like more than all that."
"It is. Public health systems are breaking down," Gary explained, "and people can't get their kids vaccinated any more. So they do this, to try and stem the tide of infectious diseases. It's got mixed effectiveness."
A man passed by, pulling a cart laden with dead chickens. "Let's follow him," José suggested.
The live market was, as Lili had predicted, a smelly place, and extremely loud. Vendors shouted in Khmer, telling of their wares, much as they probably had two or three hundred years or perhaps even a thousand years before. "I'm picking up, well, it's not just Khmer that's being spoken," Hoshi explained, "It's also Lao, Cantonese and Korean."
"Anybody selling dog?" Frank asked.
Hoshi listened to the cacophony for a moment. "Over there."
The stall was large. The dogs were mainly silent, scared, although there was a lot of whining at times, as one would start and the others would join in, perhaps in solidarity or sympathy.
They were crammed into cages, five or six or seven to a far too small wooden or bamboo cage. Lili bent down to a cage on the ground. A tan muzzle poked through and its owner licked her finger. She straightened up. "Tell the vendor I want to inspect the contents of this cage."
Hoshi translated the request to the vendor, who was a middle-aged woman. "She's asking me," Hoshi said after the woman had replied, "What you're thinking of cooking."
"Stew," Lili replied, "so they can be more muscular and," she swallowed at the thought, "chewy."
Hoshi translated again, words like Preap and ch'kae were said a few times. "Mrs. Preap here," she reported, gesturing to the vendor, "says she wants to see our payment first."
Frank and Gary were holding two containers of tin. José motioned to Gary to open his. Mrs. Preap peeked inside and nodded vigorously. She spoke to Hoshi again. "She says it's okay to look," Hoshi reported.
Gary put down a container and then put his foot on it so that it wouldn't be taken. He helped Lili open the cage a little. The dogs rushed at the opening a bit, but she put her hand up, palm facing them and they seemed to understand not to make a break for it.
The dogs were weak and thin, with their ribs sticking out. Except for one, which Lili realized was the owner of the tan muzzle who had licked her before. That one had a little bit of a belly. Lili touched the dog's belly – it was a female – and was a little surprised to feel movement. For a second, she cringed, wondering if the dog had some sort of awful parasite. But then she put two and two together, and understood that no, it wasn't that. The dog was pregnant, and there was at least one living puppy.
"These will be good," Lili decided. She and Gary got them back into the tiny cage. The dogs were so weak they did not object, and made nearly no noise. "But they aren't worth one of these containers of tin," Lili affected a haughty air, "Tell Mrs. Preap that we will take two cages full for each container of tin," Lili decided on the spot. Conditions were just so deplorable.
Hoshi started translating. José grabbed Lili's sleeve. "Are you outta your mind? We are very nearly done here. We're memorable enough as it is. Don't make this any worse."
"Trust me, husband," she emphasized the last word, "this woman is desperate."
"So we don't need to cheat her," José cautioned.
"It's not cheating. Everything will be fine," Lili assured. She felt a tug on the hem of her skirt this time. There was a small boy with no shoes, no more than maybe four years old. Like all of the other children they had seen, he was wearing a filthy surgical mask. He looked up at her with big pleading eyes and stuck his hand out, begging. "Do you have maybe a small piece of that tin?" Lili asked Frank.
"I got something better." He produced a small pen knife. "Whaddaya think?"
"Maybe," Lili allowed, "let's see what the vendor says."
"She says," Hoshi reported, "that two cages per container of tin is acceptable to her, but you can't inspect any of the other cages quite so closely, although you can select them."
Gary lifted the cage they had already decided on. The pregnant female let out a bark when the cage passed close to another cage, and her bark was met by a bark emanating from in there. "Hey, I think they know each other," he speculated.
"Let's make that the second cage of the four," José decided. He looked around until he saw one with fairly large dogs in it. They were just as emaciated as the others, but their paws stuck out on all sides, as they just didn't fit. "This one."
"Agreed," Frank nodded. He and Hoshi glanced around. She gasped when she saw one of the cages. "What is it?" he asked.
"That one looks like Porthos."
It was true; the dog was some sort of little tricolored breed, with floppy ears. It, too, was crammed in with others and it was just as pitifully thin as they were. "Let's make this our fourth," José stated.
Hoshi communicated to Mrs. Preap, and the tin was exchanged for the four cramped cages. The little boy was still there. Frank knelt down to the kid's level and gave him the little pen knife and tousled his dirty hair a bit. "I hope you can sell this." He hoisted the cage with the bigger dogs in it onto one shoulder. José took the last cage as Gary took the two where the dogs seemed to know one another.
Whining and barking followed them as they left. "Don't look, oh God, don't look," Lili told Hoshi, "You don't wanna see what's hanging on hooks, freshly slaughtered."
"No," Hoshi whispered, averting her eyes and moving quickly.
Once they were a bit down the road, Hoshi clicked open her communicator. "Kerna?"
"A moment," Kerna replied, "I take it you were successful. I will open the hatch in five minutes, and then you'll be able to see me."
"Got it. Sato out." Hoshi looked down, as the little boy was back. He had followed them and, perhaps, had seen her communicator. He was now tugging on the hem of her skirt. Hoshi and he exchanged several words of Khmer, and he finally left.
"What did he want?" asked José.
"He said the general can come back to his mother's stall if you ever get hungry for dog again."
"Let's get out of here," Gary requested, "This place makes me shiver."
"Yeah," Lili agreed, "I can't wait to leave."
=/\=
José stripped off the general's uni as fast as possible and stuffed it into a bag which he then sealed. Left in just his own shirt and boxers, he quickly donned a pair of non-Starfleet regulation sweatpants, with the logo of William and Mary emblazoned on the side. "I hope I didn't get the uni dirty at all."
"Oh, thanks," replied Lili as they took off, "I'd rather not launder it. It still smells a little bit like Jay."
"I'm sorry," he told her, "but it might smell like me a bit, too, now."
"That's okay."
They had ten doses of a combination sedative and antibiotic. "Let's get two from each cage, the two worst-looking ones," Hoshi commanded, "and they'll get the doses, then two others. They'll sleep, so they can be out of their cages."
Gary spread a blanket down. They injected a huge white dog with black spots, far bigger than a Dalmatian, who seemed to be young – all paws and ears. There were two horribly thin retrievers, and others with what appeared to be mange. They also selected the pregnant tan female for an injection, and the dog who appeared to be her mate, a brindle male with a wide face. Those dogs were all out cold, sleeping on the spread-out blanket. The others were quiet. They all seemed to be infested with fleas.
"Next stop, France," Kerna announced, "Where to, specifically?"
"Paris," Hoshi commanded.
"No, if I may suggest something else," Lili interjected, "because Paris is too large. I fear we'd be spotted somehow. Let's go to Pérouges instead; it's near Lyon. It's an old walled city. We could set down near the wall and I think that would provide some cover."
"All right," agreed Hoshi, "You'll go with just one other person. You speak French, right?"
"Oui," Lili confirmed, "we spoke French and English when I was growing up. Gary, wanna get married for five minutes?"
"Uh, sure." José looked over but only for a second.
=/\=
The stop in Pérouges was a short one. They got in, went into a wine merchant and Lili grabbed two bottles of Grand Siècle Champagne. Gary showed the clerk a real silk scarf that Hoshi had given them for the payment. "Non, non, madame et monsieur!" enthused the clerk, "C'est pour trois bouteilles!"
"Pourquoi?" asked Lili.
"L'armée; c'est ma reconnaissance. Un cadeau."
"Ah, merci beaucoup, monsieur," she replied. They left with three bottles instead of two.
"What kind of a negotiator are you?" Gary asked in some admiration.
"The clerk offered the third bottle to me. He said it was a gift, in gratitude to the army."
"I see. How did you know about this town?"
"My mother's family is from here." They had arrived at the shuttle, and got inside.
=/\=
Once they were back on the Enterprise, an enormous amount of time was spent in decon. The dogs had multiple issues, and Phlox wanted to be absolutely sure before letting any of them out. Plus there was the matter of some exposure to radiation, and the fleas. Lili had Phlox get Brian to bring over the metal mixing bowls from the galley and they were filled with water or kibble for the new crew members, who ate heartily, tails wagging.
Lili found herself napping a bit as they waited for decon to finish, her head resting on Frank's shoulder.
=/\=
"I see you've got your new friends," Ian remarked.
"You were right about it being troubling. I hadn't been to a place like that for years, but you never forget it. It's brutal."
"Those people are also starving," he commented, "but you did well. That Preap family will be all right. They'll survive the war."
"Oh gosh, did we change that?"
"No," he assured her, "hist'ry is considerably more durable than all that. T'Pol worries far too much. It's bendable and breakable, to be sure, but not as readily as she fears. This little jaunt hasn't changed anything in the grand scheme of things."
"Oh, good."
"That little tan dog – she'll be yours, you know. She won't ever want to leave your side."
"I'm glad someone will love me," Lili sighed.
"Someone else will, too," he assured her, "and not just the four of us here, but someone alive and on the NX-01 right now."
"Oh?"
"I can say no more. But you will be loved again, in life."
=/\=
Jonathan Archer's Personal Log, February eighteenth, 2038
I'm a little anxious to meet our new friends close up, but Phlox tells me it'll be a bit longer. Twenty-six dogs! We had thought we'd be lucky to get ten. This is fantastic! We'll have herders for the planet – and the procul. And children can have pets.
I'm happiest about Kerna. She did as expected, and did not betray us. I think the thing with Verinold was a fluke, and I have told him as much. We will do as he suggested, and he will live out his days on that planet, working the fields.
=/\=
Franklin Thomas Todd's Personal Log, February eighteenth, 2038
For me, this day was mixed and upsetting, for the most part. Sure, we saved a bunch of dogs, and we probably helped out that Preap family, big time. But there were so many others who we couldn't help.
=/\=
Gary Hodgkins's Personal Log, February eighteenth, 2038
I never went to France before. Who knew it would be in 2038? Nobody knows what we'll do with that extra bottle of Champagne.
=/\=
Hoshi Sato's Personal Log, February eighteenth, 2038
I missed Sekar. I never thought I'd say that. I guess I do care, and it wasn't just settling when we got together last time. I don't think it's settling now, either.
=/\=
Charlotte Lilienne O'Day's Personal Log, February eighteenth, 2038
We have our dogs. And our Champagne. What an odd few days this has been. The general's uni still, for the most part, smells like Jay. And when I put it back today, it was a little like a stabbing in my heart. But I know I'm also tired and emotionally overloaded.
We have seen the Third World War, and what it did to people, and it was not even the half of it, but it was more than enough. If the Xindi had bisected Florida and South America in 2038 instead of 2153, I swear I would almost be all right with letting them have us. We've grown since then. We've gotten better.